“An arms race, obviously.”
“Correct. That’s why Winston is always endeavoring to squeeze more and more money out of Parliament for his naval budget. I guess he drives them mad with his demands, but by God he’s right, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Asquith likes Winston, I’m told by my friends in the know,” Charles said. “And that’s good enough for me.”
“I’d go as far as to say that the prime minister admires Winston Churchill and likes Lloyd George. There are some good men in Asquith’s government and they’ll cope with a war. It’s a bloody awful thing to think about, though.”
“I trust Churchill’s judgment. He has enormous potential,” Charles remarked.
“I wish we could avoid a conflict, but unfortunately England promised France that we would come to their aid if they were invaded,” Hugo pointed out.
“I know. If push comes to shove, that’s what we’ll have to do, I suppose.”
“And God help us all.” Hugo shook his head, and looked off into the distance, as if seeing something only visible to himself. After a long moment, he said in a low voice, “Bad times are coming, and the world will never be the same again.”
Forty-four
“Thank you so much, Hanson, the room looks elegant yet nicely masculine,” Daphne said, smiling at the butler.
“It was a pleasure to help you, Lady Daphne, but I can’t really take credit for this. It’s all your doing.”
Daphne and Hanson were standing in the doorway of a small sitting room in the South Wing, which together they had redecorated as a library.
In the three days Hugo had been away, most of the furniture had been removed to the attics, and other pieces brought down. The room now boasted a mahogany bookcase, a small Georgian desk and desk chair, plus the sofa and an armchair which had stayed in place.
“It’ll be very comfortable for Mr. Hugo,” Hanson said, his eyes sweeping around the room. “And I’m glad we found those hunting prints, they look well in here, m’lady.”
“They do indeed, Hanson. Now, I just have to go and borrow a few books from the library to fill the bookcase.”
Hanson pondered for a moment, and said, “I do believe there are some boxes of leather-bound books in the attics above the East Wing, Lady Daphne. Mrs. Thwaites always stores things very well, and I’m certain they are in perfect condition. Shall I have them brought down for you to look at?”
“Certainly, Hanson, thank you very much. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must pop into the nursery to see the baby.”
“Yes, my lady, of course, and the books will be here and unpacked in a jiffy.”
She smiled and thanked him again, and the two of them went their separate ways; Hanson to the East Wing, Daphne to the nursery farther down the corridor.
Miss Jane Willis was the baby nurse, and she had arrived at Cavendon a few days before the baby was born. She was in her midtwenties, young, energetic, and very caring of Alicia, and Daphne was pleased with her.
Miss Willis had trained at Norland College, where baby nurses and nannies were schooled in the best tradition. Daphne was glad she had listened to her mother.
It was Felicity who had suggested she hire a baby nurse for the first six weeks, to help get on her feet and also to create a proper routine for the child. Daphne thought of Miss Willis as a godsend.
Miss Willis held her fingers to her lips when Daphne appeared in the doorway of the nursery, and then smiled, beckoned her into the room. Alicia was fast asleep in her cradle, and Daphne looked down at her child, marveling at her yet again. “I’ll come back later,” she mouthed silently, and slipped out, made her way to the lavender room she shared with Hugo. He had a dressing room next door, which had a French daybed in it. “But that’s just for show, I hope,” Hugo had said when he had seen it. “I’ve no intention of sleeping alone. I want you next to me in bed always.” And that was the way it was, and always would be.
Daphne smiled to herself when she thought of Hugo’s comments, not only about their sleeping arrangements but many other things as well. He was very modern in his way of thinking, and forthright, and spoke to her openly about a variety of subjects.
Opening the wardrobe door, Daphne glanced at the dresses hanging there, wondering what to wear that evening for dinner. Something simple, she thought, since she and her mother would be the only two people dining. Unless Great-Aunt Gwendolyn had been invited to join them. She would ask Hanson about that later.
It seemed to Daphne that the house was deserted and quieter than usual today. Guy was at Oxford, Miles at Eton; Diedre had gone to Gloucestershire yesterday, to stay with Maxine Lowe at her house near Cirencester; and her father had driven to Northallerton this morning. He was to be a pallbearer at the funeral of one of his oldest friends. He had insisted Felicity stay at Cavendon, pointing out that there was no need for her to go. And Hugo was off on his business trip, and would be arriving in Zurich tonight. In particular, she missed his cheerful and loving presence, felt lost without him, and couldn’t wait for him to get back.
There was a knock on the door, and it opened at once. Peggy Swift looked into the bedroom, and said, “Could I speak to you for a minute, Lady Daphne?”
“Of course, Swift, come in,” Daphne answered with a warm smile. Peggy Swift had become her lady’s maid after her marriage, and Daphne liked her, favored her. She was a good worker, took wonderful care of Daphne’s clothes, and was efficient. And she had a nice disposition.
The young woman stepped into the room, closed the door behind her. Daphne looked across at her and frowned. “What is it, Peggy? You look upset.”
“No, I’m not really, m’lady, but something has been preying on my mind a bit, and I wanted to … well, get it off my chest. But first I must ask you not to repeat what I tell you.”
Daphne sat down in a chair and said, “I promise I won’t break your confidence.”
Peggy Swift liked and admired Lady Daphne, and genuinely trusted her, knowing her to be a good person, caring and compassionate. There was a sweetness about her that touched Peggy. Yet she now found she couldn’t speak out.
Daphne said, “It’s very private here, Peggy, as you well know. You can speak freely.” When still Peggy hesitated, Daphne said, “You’re not ill, are you?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that, Lady Daphne. It’s just that I don’t know how to begin.”
“Just blurt it out. I’ve found that’s the only way,” Daphne advised, smiling encouragingly.
“It’s about Gordon, and me too, and I don’t want to get him into trouble. Will you keep my secret, m’lady?”
“I said I would, Peggy, and I mean it. So come along, tell me.” As she spoke Daphne couldn’t help wondering if Peggy was pregnant, but then dismissed this thought. Peggy wouldn’t fall into that trap again. Leaning back in the chair, she waited patiently.
“Well, you see, it’s like this. Sometimes Gordon and I sneak out at night. After our supper, and the cleaning up is finished. Gordon likes to go for a little stroll and have a cigarette. When the weather’s nice. And well, last summer we went out for a bit…” Peggy paused, took a deep breath, and said in a low voice, “Several times I think we were being watched.”
“What on earth do you mean?” Daphne sat up straighter in the chair, focusing on Peggy at once, concerned by this comment.
“When we were in the bluebell woods, having a little kiss, a cuddle, I heard noises. Like someone was there in the bushes, watching us. Rustling noises, twigs snapping. So we ran back to the house. And then another time, we’d gone to have a walk round the lake.”
Peggy shook her head, rested her hand on a chest of drawers. “I know we shouldn’t have been there—” She broke off, looking worried.
Daphne said, “Continue. Peggy, I’m not going to tell Hanson you were outside when you should have been indoors.”
“We went into the old boathouse, Lady Daphne. It was filled with moonlight and Gordon saw a stub of a candle and lit it. So
we could see. I don’t like the dark. We were just having a cuddle … you know we’re going to get married when we can.” Peggy bit her lip, and after a moment, she continued. “A bit later the candle died, then the moon went behind the clouds, and Gordon lit a match. So we could see our way out. And I was facing the window and there was a man staring in, watching us.”
“Oh my goodness! That must have been upsetting!” Daphne exclaimed.
“It was, my lady. Gordon and I, well, we rushed outside. And we saw the man, he was running away.”
“Who was it?” Daphne asked, more concerned than ever.
“I don’t know, Lady Daphne. But it was a funny feeling, knowing somebody was watching us. Like a Peeping Tom. We came back to the house. And we didn’t go for strolls again.”
“And you’re sure it wasn’t anyone you know?” Daphne probed.
“Well, it was always dark, but who’d do that? Not anybody who works here, I don’t think.”
“That’s true.”
Peggy said, “Don’t give us away, Lady Daphne. Gordon doesn’t want to get sacked. I don’t either. I’m telling you this because it’s sort of … well, it’s worried me that someone is lurking around Cavendon.”
“I promise I won’t involve you and Gordon, Peggy, but I can’t just leave it like this. I’ve got to say something to someone.”
“But not Hanson or Mrs. Thwaites. Please, Lady Daphne.”
“I suppose I could speak to Miss Charlotte, and she in turn could have a word with Percy Swann. As the head gamekeeper he’s basically in charge of the estate. At least it would alert him.”
Peggy nodded, and after a moment’s hesitation, she said slowly, “There’s just one other thing, m’lady. Now that she’s left to go to another job, I can tell you that Mary Ince was once surprised by a man. He jumped out of the bushes and tried to grab her. But she was quick, and ran. He ran after her, but the minute she left the bluebell woods he stopped chasing her.”
Daphne was now genuinely alarmed by these stories, but she kept her expression neutral when she said, “I shall definitely confide in Miss Charlotte. She will know the best thing to do.”
“Will you keep us out of it, m’lady?” Peggy asked nervously.
“I will have to tell her about you and Gordon, Peggy. There’s no other way. But she won’t bring you into it, I promise you. On my word of honor.”
“I’m glad I told you, Lady Daphne, it’s really been bothering me. We can’t have trespassers lurking around Cavendon, now can we?”
“We certainly can’t … Leave it to me, Peggy, and in the meantime, let us decide what I might wear for dinner.”
Forty-five
“You look so well, Mama,” Daphne said, sounding surprised, staring at her mother’s reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. “Better than I’ve seen you for a long time.”
“I feel better, Daphne,” Felicity answered, and smiled back at her daughter’s reflection.
Daphne moved away, went and sat in a chair, so that Olive Wilson could finish doing Felicity’s hair, and within minutes the maid had put in the last hairpins and, as a finishing touch, a diamond-and-tortoiseshell comb.
“There, that’s it, your ladyship,” Wilson said, stepping back, checking the countess’s hairdo from various angles, nodding to herself.
“Honestly, Wilson, you’re quite brilliant with hair!” Daphne exclaimed. “I love these fancy curls, and the way you’ve then swept one side back with the comb. Just lovely.”
“Thank you, Lady Daphne,” Wilson answered, and helped Felicity up out of the small chair.
“For the first time in months, I feel like going downstairs and having a lovely dinner with you, Daphne. It’s been ages since I’ve even felt like getting dressed for dinner, never mind eating it.”
“You look elegant, Mama, I must say, and the burgundy dress is certainly flattering.”
Felicity laughed. “It’s one of my old Paris frocks, revamped by Cecily. I don’t know how she does it, but that clever girl can make anything look brand new. And chic.”
“I know, and Charlotte says her own designs are complex, she calls them engineered. I do know Mrs. Alice has a devil of a time sewing them. But there’s no question Ceci’s got a huge talent.”
“A little genius, I’d say,” Felicity murmured, and turning to Olive Wilson, she said, “Thank you, Olive. You’ve outdone yourself tonight with my hair.”
“It’s my pleasure, my lady.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you need help down the stairs, Lady Mowbray?”
“I don’t think I do, thank you. I believe I can navigate the corridors of Cavendon without any assistance tonight.”
As they went downstairs, Daphne made sure her mother’s right hand was on the balustrade, and she kept her watchful eyes on her as they descended. Once they were in the grand entrance foyer, Felicity turned to her daughter, and half smiled. “You see, I did well, didn’t I?”
Daphne nodded and took hold of her mother’s arm, walked with her into the sitting room next door to the dining room, where they always assembled.
“Just the two of us tonight, but I think that’s rather nice. We haven’t had a chance to talk alone together for a long time.”
“I know, and it’s silly when you think about it, Mama, since we do live in the same house.”
“The same big house,” Felicity corrected. “Your grandfather always said you need a bicycle to get around it, and I think he was right.”
“I hadn’t realized Papa wasn’t coming back tonight, until Hanson told me. Or that Great-Aunt Gwendolyn wasn’t going to be with us for dinner either.”
“It’s very slushy outside apparently, all that melting snow, and, of course, Gregg and the motorcar are with your father in Northallerton, so there’s no way to send him to get her. Your father had to stay because a dinner was arranged for the family and closest friends.”
“I understand. Anyway, it’s cozy, just the two of us, and I’m especially glad that you’re doing so well.” Daphne threw her mother a pointed look, and said, with a hint of laughter in her voice, “It’s all because of Baby. She’s given you a new lease on life, Mama.”
“You’re laughing, and I’m happy to laugh with you, Daphne. But it just so happens you spoke the truth. I’ve felt so much better since Baby’s arrival, and we’ve got to stop calling her that or it will stick, and she’ll hate us when she grows up.”
“I agree. We must call her Alicia from this moment on.”
“I’m sorry, Daphne, sorry I’ve been so absent in your life for such a long time. I’m afraid I’ve neglected you, and all of my daughters. However, it was you who needed me the most, and I let you down most dreadfully.”
“Oh, Mama, please don’t say that,” Daphne cried, and rising, she went and sat next to her mother on the sofa. “I know how worried you were about Aunt Anne, and frustrated that you couldn’t change the course her life had taken.”
Felicity reached out and took hold of Daphne’s hand, and held it tightly in hers. “You see, she brought me up from the age of three, she was ten years older than me, as you know. It was like losing a mother as well as a sister when she died. A double loss, in a sense.” Felicity grimaced, and gave her daughter a knowing look. “I was frustrated, you’re correct about that, and especially annoyed with Grace and Adrian. After all, Grace was her only child, and she should have returned immediately when Anne became so seriously ill. I’ll never know why they lingered in Cairo.”
“I agree, but as Papa would say, that’s water under the bridge.”
“I’m happy you married Hugo when you did, and that you insisted on an early marriage. And I’m glad I wouldn’t let you spoil the honeymoon and come back for the funeral. There would have been no point, and Anne had made me promise I wouldn’t allow that. She understood, and she knew you loved her, and that was good enough for her.”
Hanson appeared in the doorway and said, “Dinner is served, my lady.”
* * *
Daphne fo
und it hard to sleep that night. She had far too much on her mind. Her foremost worry was the news Peggy Swift had given her about a trespasser on the private grounds of Cavendon and in the bluebell woods and park.
When Peggy had mentioned the bluebell woods she had felt the gooseflesh rising on her neck and arms, and instantly she had thought of Richard Torbett. But surely he wasn’t lurking around the woods, being a Peeping Tom, or attacking young women, was he? But he had attacked her, hadn’t he?
She pushed the thought of him away. That she had vowed to do on her wedding day, when she had seen him standing on the other side of the road, across from the church. She had looked again, and discovered he wasn’t there. Had he ever been there at all? Perhaps she had imagined it.
Until today he had been gone from her thoughts. Not even when she had given birth to her daughter had she thought of him. Because by then she had been loved by Hugo in the most passionate and tender way, and she had loved him in return. And it was Hugo who was the father of her child, as far as she was concerned.
Turning in the bed, holding on to the pillow, Daphne suddenly remembered her wedding night. Here with Hugo. Slowly, tenderly, and with infinite patience, he had aroused her, and in the most sensual way. She had discovered desire and passion, and had become his.
Later he had said to her, “If you weren’t pregnant already, I’d have made you pregnant tonight, my darling. I’ve never made love to any woman like this … with such fervor, love, intensity, and passion.”
And she knew that he spoke the truth. Their nights of lovemaking continued, and as always when he took her to him she experienced ecstasy and joy.
She let these thoughts of desire and passion slide away. They were too tantalizing. And she turned her thoughts to Charlotte.
She would meet her tomorrow and tell her Peggy’s stories, and perhaps something could be done about the Peeping Tom. If there was one, that is. Maybe it was not a Peeping Tom at all, but another man intent on doing damage to a young couple. Or a girl.
This thought sent a shiver through her, and she calmed herself, and finally she fell asleep. It was not a dreamless sleep. Nightmares hounded her all through the night, and she was relieved when daylight broke.
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