He strolled around the room, looked out of the windows at the rolling lawns and the stand of trees near the rose garden. And then went into the bathroom to freshen up.
He was just about to go downstairs when there was a tapping on the bedroom door. He strode across the room and opened it, and gaped in surprise. Standing before him was the most beautiful child he had ever seen. A Botticelli angel. She was gazing up at him with great curiosity.
Crouching down to her level, he found himself staring into saucer-sized blue eyes that were very serious indeed.
“Hello,” he said gently.
“I didn’t speak on the teffalone because Papa said you were in a hurry,” she explained earnestly. “I’m sorry.”
For a moment he was baffled, but said, “Well, now we can speak in person. I am Hugo.” He held out his hand.
She took it, and answered, “And I am Lady Dulcie Agatha Ingham. Pleased to meet you.” She made a small curtsy, and went on in a solemn tone, “Am I the first of the sisters to meet you?”
Hugo swallowed a smile, and standing up, he opened the door and said, “Please come in, Lady Dulcie, and yes indeed, you are the first one to meet me.”
Her face filled with radiance and then she giggled. “I like to march a steal on them.”
“Steal a march,” he corrected, enjoying this unique little girl, who followed him into the room, looking him over, obviously assessing him.
“Oh dear, I got that wrong. I sometimes do get things wrong. But DeLacy says it doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it doesn’t.”
“There you are!” a female voice cried, and a moment later a young woman who was obviously the nanny arrived in the room.
“Please do excuse Dulcie, Mr. Stanton. I’ve been looking all over for her. I’d no idea she had found you so easily.”
Hugo began to laugh. “That’s all right,” he answered, still laughing, finding the situation amusing.
“She was longing to meet you first, before her sisters,” the nanny explained. “And she did, I do believe.”
“That is correct. And she wasn’t a nuisance. On the contrary she was rather … charming.”
Dulcie flashed him a big smile. “I shall have to go, Hugo.” She bobbed another curtsy and left with the nanny.
He stood there, shaking his head for a moment, and then he chuckled to himself. The child was beautiful and charming; obviously competitive with her sisters, and a go-getter. I’d better keep an eye on her, he thought to himself, still chuckling as he went out into the corridor. That child’s going places.
Twenty-five
As Hugo strode into the library a moment later, Charles immediately stood up and walked around his desk. “There you are, Hugo. Come on, let us sit near the fire, and chat for a while. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.”
Hugo nodded, and stepped over to the fire, suddenly remembering how this room was always cold, even when there was a heat wave outside, and that there was a fire blazing whatever the time of year.
Turning to Charles, he asked, “Did you ever discover what makes the library so cold all year round?”
Charles shook his head. “Never managed that, old chap, although there are all sorts of old wives’ tales … that Cavendon is built on an ancient druid cemetery; that far below Cavendon, in the bowels of the earth, there are hidden wells of water left over from the Ice Age … you name it, we’ve got it. But nobody really has an answer.”
Once the two men had settled down in the armchairs, Charles said, “You mentioned your property in Yorkshire, in your letter to me from Zurich. Which particular house were you talking about, Hugo?”
“All of them. Well, not exactly. I mustn’t include Endersby House, where Major Gaunt lives. That’s his home for as long as he’s running the yard. But my father left me Beldon Grange in East Witton, which I believe I’m going to sell, and then there’s Little Skell Manor, here on the estate. I was—”
“You do know that Aunt Gwendolyn still lives there, Hugo,” Charles cut in. “And she has for as long as I can remember.”
“Oh yes, I do know. And I must set her mind at rest as soon as I see her this afternoon.” He looked across at Charles and raised a brow. “She is all right, isn’t she? She is coming to tea?”
“Oh yes, wild horses couldn’t keep her away. She can’t wait to see you, and she hasn’t stopped talking about your visit since I informed her you were coming to see us.”
“And perhaps to make my home here,” Hugo said. “But getting back to Little Skell Manor, I want to reassure her that she can live there for as long as she wants. Until the day she dies, in fact. After that, I’ll give it back to you. I know it has to stay in the family, and that it usually passes to a girl. And you have four daughters … one of them might need a roof over her head sometime, Charles, and it’s really your call.”
“But your mother left Little Skell Manor to you in her will, Hugo. And now you’re telling me you don’t want it?” Charles was surprised, but pleasantly so.
“Not for myself, to live in, no, I don’t. It’s not really large enough or grand enough. I aim to find a potential stately home, if there’s one available around here, Charles, and I’m going to need your help to find it.”
“I’ll do the best I can,” Charles replied, so filled with relief he would do anything to help Hugo acquire a grand property. How thrilled Aunt Gwendolyn would be, and Charlotte as well, that Little Skell Manor was safe. He was pleased an old lady wasn’t going to be turfed out of her home, and also genuinely happy that the South Wing would remain unoccupied, so that they could use it themselves from time to time.
Charles said, “I’ve opened up the South Wing, by the way, Hugo, and you’re going to get a thrill seeing it again. It’s perfectly beautiful, and we’re holding the supper dance there tonight. The first of the season.”
“That’s great to hear. I always thought it was one of the best parts of Cavendon. And I’m delighted I’m here for this event, so pleased you were able to accommodate me, that you agreed to the change in dates.”
“No problem, Hugo, none at all. Getting back to homes, are you planning to keep your villa in Zurich?”
“Oh yes, for the moment. I might give it up, if there’s a war, but even then it would be safe, since Switzerland is a neutral country.”
Charles was frowning, his eyes tight on Hugo’s face. “Why do you mention war? Everything has been peaceful for a long time now. England is safe; we are the greatest empire the world has ever known, and the richest. London is the center of the world, of the universe really. Prosperity reigns, don’t you think?” His eyes remained riveted on his cousin.
Hugo said carefully, somewhat slowly for him, “Yes, there is a lot of truth in what you say, Charles. The Empire with a capital E is the greatest there has ever been, no question about that. But I think this is the last summer … the last summer we’re going to enjoy for a long time. There is trouble in the world. Trouble afoot.”
Noting the seriousness of Hugo’s voice, the solemnity of his face, Charles felt a shiver run down his spine. “Tell me more, Hugo. No one I know in London has spoken to me like this.”
“Nor would they. They don’t want to face reality, or perhaps they don’t know what I do. Remember, I live in Zurich and New York, I hear things, I’m told things.”
Hugo let out a long sigh, and settled back in the chair. He made a steeple out of his hands and brought the point to his mouth. After a moment or two he said quietly, “Germany is rearming. They want to rule the world. Kaiser Bill is on the march, or about to be. And quite soon. There’s a heaviness in the air in Europe, and it spells war, trouble, problems. Russia is in danger. Nicholas hasn’t ruled well, too much influence from his queen. Alexandra is not the best advisor. The country is divided … the aristocracy and the serfs. Too many inequities. And then there are the Bolsheviks … watch out for a revolution in Russia. It’s almost unavoidable, inevitable.”
“And it will affect us, won’t it?”
“It will. That’s one of the reasons I must go to Zurich for that meeting I mentioned. I can’t miss it … the gnomes of Zurich more often than not call the tune.” Noticing the bafflement on Charles’s face, Hugo felt bound to explain. “The gnomes of Zurich are the international bankers, and they are frequently considered to be the puppet masters of the world. However, I wouldn’t swear to that. They are most powerful though, and I never miss a meeting. Also, I always listen without saying too much. Remember what my father used to say?”
“I do indeed. A still tongue and a wise head,” Charles was quick to say.
“Exactly.”
There was a knock on the door, and it opened immediately. A young woman came in, exclaiming, “Papa, about tonight, I’ve—” She stopped when she saw that Charles was not alone, and paused waiting in the middle of the floor.
Hugo stood up and turned around. All speech left him. He felt as if he had been punched in the belly. The young woman he was staring at was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Breathtaking. She appeared to shimmer, from the top of her golden head filled with sunlight, to the hem of her satin dress. It was an unusual color, not yellow, not peach, more like apricot. And it made her cornflower blue eyes seem even bluer.
She came toward him, smiling, her hand outstretched. “Hugo, I presume. I am Daphne, the second daughter.”
Hugo still could not speak, and his legs felt weak. He took her hand in his, and felt its silkiness, and he said, “I’m pleased to meet you again, Daphne. When we first met you were only twelve months old.” To his total surprise his voice sounded normal.
Daphne merely smiled, and managed to extricate her hand from his, and walked across the room to her father.
Hugo watched her, noticing her grace and fluidity, the swirl of the clinging satin dress against her long legs, the proud set of her shoulders, the elegant tilt of her head.
He wanted her. Not for a night, not for a week, not for a month. Forever. He wanted to possess her. Keep her next to him. He had to have her, had to make her his entire life. And he would.
Sapphires, he thought. I want to drape her in sapphires that match those wondrous eyes. Sapphires around her neck … on her ears … encircling her arms. Sapphires, and diamonds, and anything else she wants … I will give her the world.
Clearing his throat, Hugo managed to say, “Will you excuse me for a moment, Daphne, Charles.” He inclined his head to them both, smiled, and hurried out.
Once he was in the Blue Room he took off his jacket and threw it on a chair, then went into the bathroom, where he soaked a towel in cold water. This he held against his burning face for a good few minutes. He noticed, later, as he looked in the mirror, that his shirt was damp. He had broken out in a cold sweat downstairs.
After a moment, he went and lay down on the bed, and closed his eyes. Schoolboy, he chastised himself. You’re behaving like a silly schoolboy. It was true, he was, but he couldn’t help himself.
He had never seen a woman who was as beautiful as her. Nor had he ever wanted a woman as much as he wanted Daphne. What was he going to do?
Hugo was startled by his reaction to Daphne. He had just met her but she had affected him most forcefully. He believed he was decidedly too old for her. She was seventeen; he was thirty-two, and a widower, a man of experience. A big age gap. Also, they were second cousins, although he knew that had no legal bearing on anything in England. Still, the fifteen-year age difference was a stumbling block.
Then there were her feelings. He had fallen instantly for her … love at first sight. She was hardly aware of him, had been polite, pleasant, and that was all. There had not been a flicker of interest.
She was probably in love with some dashing young man. Probably not, come to think of it. For it was more than likely that Charles had plans for her. She was, after all, a great beauty, and was obviously set to make a brilliant marriage.
Her father would want nothing less than an earl’s son. Perhaps Charles already had his sights set on a duke’s son. That was the way the Inghams thought and acted. Onward and upward. Ambition was endemic.
Hugo sighed to himself. Lady Daphne Ingham was beyond his reach. It would be best if he put her out of his mind, concentrated on buying a fine house and estate in Yorkshire, and focused on his business interests. Yes, that would be the thing to do. And money eased the pain.
* * *
There was a lot of excitement in the yellow sitting room. When Cecily arrived it was already half full, and anticipation was high. Everyone wanted to meet Hugo, either for the first time, or to become reunited with their long-lost cousin.
Cecily was thrilled to have been invited by DeLacy, who had been given permission to ask her by the countess, and Alice had been invited by the earl.
She looked across at her mother, who was seated next to Daphne. The latter looked as lovely as always; this afternoon she was wearing a delphinium-blue silk afternoon dress, made by Alice, and it matched her eyes.
Automatically, Cecily glanced at Lady Gwendolyn, who was staring at her. Great-Aunt Gwendolyn winked, and looked at Daphne, then shook her head.
Cecily had to swallow the laughter rising in her. Lady Gwendolyn was forever chastising the Ingham women for wearing dresses to match their eyes. Cecily thought it was funny, and always had to suppress her laughter when Lady Gwendolyn was on the warpath.
Diedre was sitting with Lady Gwendolyn; DeLacy was standing with Guy and Miles, near the doorway, waiting for Hugo. They had all been anxious to meet him, but he was still absent.
A moment later, the earl entered the yellow sitting room, holding Dulcie’s hand, and the countess followed, accompanied by Charlotte Swann. Everyone had arrived. Only Hugo, the guest of honor, was missing.
Suddenly Dulcie broke free of her father’s hold, and ran across the room. She came to a standstill in front of Diedre. “I met Hugo first!” she announced proudly. Although she was afraid of her eldest sister, Dulcie was brave, and could be defiant at times; she was oddly combative for a little girl. Also, she enjoyed making announcements which were challenging.
Diedre merely raised an eyebrow eloquently, murmured off-handedly, “As if anybody cares.”
Dulcie was instantly offended, and flounced away on her plump little legs, making for Daphne, whom she adored. “You are the most beautiful of the big sisters,” she exclaimed in a very loud voice.
Daphne reached for Dulcie, her face soft with love for her little sister, and she embraced her. “And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” Against her hair, she whispered, “I’m going to give you one of my jewelled tortoiseshell hair slides later, and a new lace hankie.”
“Ooooo, thank you, Daphne.” Lowering her voice, Dulcie confided, “Diedre’s angry because I met Hugo first.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, darling. Just because he chose to meet you first is not your fault.”
Dulcie frowned for a second, and then laughed. “Oh! I must tell Mama that, and—”
The earl reclaimed Dulcie, and said, “You’d better come with me to say hello to Great-Aunt Gwendolyn. You know she enjoys talking to you.”
“Oh yes, let’s do that. I have a present for her, Papa.”
The earl glanced down at Dulcie, frowning. “Where is it?”
“In my pocket.” She patted the side of her flounced organdy frock, and walked sedately across the room with her father.
“Ah, here you are, Dulcie, and in such a nice party frock, blue, of course,” Lady Gwendolyn said, smiling at her, thinking how lucky Charles and Felicity were … the four Dees were all lovely, and the two boys were handsome. “I can understand why everyone says you’re like a Botticelli angel,” she added.
“With a will of steel,” Diedre murmured, and got up, went to talk to her mother, who was standing with Charlotte and Cecily near the bay window overlooking the lawns.
The earl, surprised by this comment, raised a brow and glanced at his aunt. He shrugged, shook his head. “She just can�
�t resist making that kind of nasty remark,” Charles murmured, sounding slightly put out.
“I know what you mean,” his aunt responded, and wondered if Diedre had inherited that trait from her.
Dulcie said, “She doesn’t like me. I’m a nuisance, the little madam, that’s what she says.”
Both Charles and Lady Gwendolyn were taken aback by these comments from the child, and simply stared at each other.
Drawing closer to her great-aunt, Dulcie now gave her a huge smile, and announced, “I have a present for you.”
“Oh how nice, you’re such a darling child. I like presents, you know. I suppose everyone does.”
Reaching into her pocket, Dulcie took out a barley-sugar hard sweet, and handed it to her great-aunt.
Lady Gwendolyn took it gingerly, gazing at it curiously for a moment, detecting bits of fluff and lint stuck to it. The candy looked to her as if it had been around for days without its paper wrapper. And who knew where, since it was decidedly grubby. “How kind of you, Dulcie,” Lady Gwendolyn said at last, and smiled at her. She put the candy in her handbag. “I’ll save it for later,” she explained. “I don’t want it to spoil my afternoon tea.”
“But don’t forget the sweetie, will you? I saved it specially for you, Great-Aunt Gwendolyn.”
“I won’t. And thank you again. You’re very generous.”
Amused, Charles grinned at his aunt, then escorted his youngest child over to her mother, now sitting on the sofa in the bay. He wondered where Hugo was, when he suddenly appeared in the doorway of the yellow sitting room.
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Hugo exclaimed, glancing around the room, taking in everyone. Some he knew, others he didn’t. He went on, “Well, here I am at last! Hello, everyone!”
They answered, “Hello,” in unison, and laughed, and a few clapped as he strolled forward, greeting those he knew with a kiss, or a shake of the hand, and introducing himself to those he didn’t know with ease and charm.
He was pleased when he saw Alice Swann, and stopped to speak to her for a few moments. He smiled at Daphne, who was seated next to her, and murmured, “You look exceptionally beautiful, Daphne.”
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