Rags-to-Riches Bride

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Why don’t you go and ask him? We could wait on the green for you.’

  ‘Please do,’ Lucy said.

  Diana could not understand why Lucy was so friendly towards her; in her shoes she would have found it difficult. Was she so naïve she did not know that Richard liked to flirt or was she so sure of him that she did not mind? On the other hand, if she had been told Diana was destined for Stephen, why would she mind? ‘I will ask him,’ she said, wondering why she persisted in tormenting herself.

  When she arrived at the home, she was told her father was in the garden. She stepped outside and realised he was not alone; sitting on the bench beside him was Richard Harecroft and they were deep in conversation. She almost turned on her heel and went away again, but scolded herself she had no reason to avoid the young man. She walked forward, a smile on her lips. ‘Papa, you have a visitor, I see.’

  Richard turned at the sound of her voice. ‘Diana, are you well?’

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  ‘I feared the dampness in Staines had made you ill.’

  ‘It might have done if you had not done your best to prevent it,’ she said, colouring at the memory. ‘As it is I feel so much better, I decided to come and see my father.’

  ‘You did not go to London after all,’ James said. ‘Have you changed your mind about not marrying Stephen?’

  She caught Richard’s look of surprise and managed a ghost of a smile. ‘No, Papa, I have not.’

  ‘You did not tell me that yesterday,’ Richard exclaimed. ‘You let me think…’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Was there any reason why I should? Do you not keep back things about yourself you would rather not talk about? And it makes no difference, does it?’

  In spite of the flushed cheeks, she sounded cool and in control. It was as if she had used up all her emotion in Staines and had wiped out the happiness they had enjoyed in each other’s company and was determined to keep him at a distance. Had he imagined that coiled spring, a spring that drew them together with such devastating strength and could as easily fling them asunder, if they should let go of it? Had she let go? Was it time he did? ‘Not a mite of difference,’ he answered.

  ‘Pity,’ James said.

  They both looked at him, wondering if he meant it was a pity she was not going to marry Stephen or a pity it made no difference.

  ‘Your friends are outside,’ Diana told Richard when the silence became unbearable. ‘They are off to Ascot races and have asked if Papa and I would like to go with them.’

  ‘Capital idea,’ Richard said. ‘I wonder I did not think of it myself. What do you say, Mr Bywater?’

  James’s eyes lit up at the prospect and he shambled into the house to fetch his coat and tell the matron he was going out. It was only when they left the grounds by a side gate that Diana noticed Thunderer tethered and realised Richard had arrived on horseback and had always intended to go with them. It was too late to change her mind, Diana told herself, but in company, they would not be close to each other, certainly not close enough to feel warm breath on their cheeks, hear the other’s heartbeats as she had done coming back in the coach the day before, or look into each other’s eyes. Nor would they be able to taunt each other with barbed words. And it would disappoint her father if she changed her mind. It would be self-torture, she knew, but perhaps seeing Richard with his mistress and child might cure her of her affliction, for affliction it was. She could almost compare it with her father’s longing for a drink when he knew that giving in to it might be the death of him.

  The little cavalcade was waiting on the green. Diana and her father climbed into the trap with Lucy and Dick and they all set off in high spirits, even if Diana was a little subdued. It was not easy to make conversation while they were on the move, but once they had arrived in Ascot and found a good place to view the races, they were able to talk. Diana had stationed herself between Mr Somers and Mr Harris, leaving Richard to hoist Dick on his shoulders and stand beside Lucy.

  Freddie was enthusiastic about North Wind’s chances, considering the rain had softened the ground, and he was even more excited about the prospect of an exhibition of his work in London. ‘Can’t thank Richard enough,’ he said.

  ‘I did nothing,’ Richard put in. ‘I showed Mr Hatley the examples you gave me and they spoke for you.’

  ‘What about you, Mr Harris?’ Diana asked.

  ‘No luck, I am afraid. No one wants my work.’

  ‘Do not despair, my friend,’ Richard said. ‘You will make your mark, if you have patience.’

  ‘That is all very well for you to say, Richard, you have enough to live on without doing a stroke of work. I need to eat, and fame and fortune are a long while coming.’

  ‘Perhaps you should choose subjects a little less disturbing,’ Lucy said.

  ‘That would be a betrayal of my principles.’

  ‘What price your principles if you are starving?’ Freddie put in.

  ‘He is not starving, nor will he,’ Richard said. ‘He knows he is welcome to stay at the dower house as long as he likes.’

  ‘Supposing the dowager wants it back or you marry? You are bound to do so one day and then you and your bride will need the house to yourselves.’

  ‘I cannot see that happening,’ Richard told him. ‘I am a bachelor and likely to remain one.’

  ‘How can you? You are the heir after your father, you will be expected to marry and carry on the line.’

  ‘You are as bad as my parents, always worrying me to marry and settle down. I will choose my own bride and my own time. Let us say no more on the subject.’

  Diana listened with growing dismay. How could he talk of marrying or not marrying when Lucy stood beside him, faithful, uncomplaining Lucy, and his son was perched on his shoulders? She never imagined him being worried by society’s rules, but he evidently was. Unless it was Lucy who was holding back, to save him from the ignominy of being married to an actress. It was uncommonly unselfish of her if she was. And what about the child? Dick needed a father and in later years might he blame Richard for casting him in the role of bastard?

  She moved a little away from the group to sit beside her father in the trap. ‘I can see just as well from here,’ he had told them when they arrived.

  The crowds were thickening and noisy and Diana was caught up in the excitement. She watched the first race, picking her favourite from the line up and jumping up excitedly when it won. ‘I wish I had put a wager on it,’ she told her father.

  ‘See if you are clever enough to pick out the next one,’ he said.

  She studied the starters. ‘What about Greek Goddess?’

  ‘Very apt,’ he said. ‘It says here in the programme that her dam was Diana and her sire was Zeus, a winning combination if I ever heard one.’

  ‘I did not know that.’

  He took his purse from his coat pocket and extracted a guinea. ‘Ask Mr Harecroft to put this on her for us.’

  She took the money to Richard. ‘Papa says would you put this on Greek Goddess for him.’

  ‘Greek Goddess?’ he queried with a smile. ‘Why that one?’

  ‘It is Papa’s choice. He says her dam was Diana.’

  He laughed. ‘So she was. Perhaps I should back her myself. She has as good a chance as any.’

  She opened her purse and took out a second coin. ‘And will you back North Wind on the next race, too.’

  He took the money, handed Dick to his mother, and he and Freddie went off to find a bookmaker.

  ‘Greek Goddess is fifteen to one,’ he said, when he returned. ‘North Wind’s odds have shortened, he is only five to one. I do not know how that came about.’

  ‘It is because he is such a handsome fellow,’ Diana said. ‘And he looks all fired up to go.’

  Greek Goddess galloped home by a head and North Wind justified Lord Harecroft’s faith in him by romping home a clear winner. Diana was delighted, as was everyone in the party and Freddie, who had backed him heavily, decid
ed to celebrate. He went off and came back with a bottle of champagne and a handful of glasses. Diana tried to refuse the bubbly wine not only for herself but for her father too, but he would have none of it.

  ‘The young man wants to celebrate,’ he said. ‘And so do I.’

  ‘But Papa, you know it will make you ill.’

  ‘Nonsense. Champagne will not do me any harm. Come on, young fellow, pour a glass for me.’ James was suddenly jovial. ‘It is not every day I can toast my daughter’s success. And I am blowed if I am going to deny myself.’

  Freddie handed him a brimming glass and before Diana could do a thing to stop him, he had poured it down his throat and held out the glass for a refill. Luckily Freddie was busy filling glasses for everyone else and there was not much left in the bottle when he returned to James and poured what was left into his glass. Richard contrived to jog James’s arm and the wine was spilled.

  ‘Oh, I am sorry,’ he said, with a rueful grin at Diana. ‘Let me refill your glass.’ But there was none left in the bottle and Diana gave him a grateful smile.

  ‘Go and buy another bottle,’ James said, fishing in his purse. ‘Can’t celebrate with only one bottle, can we?’

  ‘I think it is time we returned home,’ Richard said. ‘Dick is nearly asleep. And we must not keep you out too long and overtire you. Matron will have something to say if we take you back the worse for wear.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Diana whispered to him as they prepared for the return journey. ‘I could not have made him come away, especially if the others were prepared to stay.’

  ‘Think nothing of it.’

  James grumbled, but Richard, who rode alongside the trap, kept him in good spirits and teased Diana about her win on Greek Goddess, so that no one else noticed, unless it was Lucy, who was driving the trap and could not but hear what was being said. If she guessed what the trouble was, she said nothing.

  When they arrived back at the green, Diana said she would see her father safely indoors and walk back to Borstead Hall. She was worried. Always before when her father had gone a long time without alcohol and then was tempted to have one, saying one would do no harm, it was like a dam bursting. One was never enough, and was followed by one more and then more until he was so inebriated he could not stand without assistance. She dreaded it.

  She was surprised that Richard had stayed behind as the others moved off and was walking on the other side of her father, his hand under the stump of his left arm. ‘I will see him safely in his room and then escort you to the Hall,’ he said.

  ‘There is no need.’

  ‘I think there is.’

  James, still sober, was annoyed that his enjoyment had been brought to an abrupt end; he called Richard and Diana his jailers, and when Matron appeared to take charge of him, he called her his prison warder.

  ‘Papa!’ Diana remonstrated. ‘It not like you to behave so discourteously.’ She turned to the matron, who was looking fiercely at him. ‘I am sorry. I think we must have overtired him.’

  ‘Is he drunk?’ the woman demanded.

  ‘No, of course he is not,’ Richard said. ‘He needs his supper and bed, that should set him right.’

  Diana kissed her father and Richard shook his hand and they left him to the mercy of the matron.

  ‘I hope she is not unkind to him,’ Diana said as they retrieved Thunderer from the hedge he was nibbling and Richard walked alongside her, leading the horse.

  ‘No, but she will be firm, firmer than you would be, I think.’

  ‘It is difficult…’

  ‘I know. He is your father and you love him, but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.’

  ‘He has been so good for so long. I hoped he would not slip back into his old ways.’ She paused. ‘Now you see why I must take him back to London?’

  ‘No, I do not. The temptation will be even greater there and you need someone to help you. A lady on her own, and a very young one at that, should not have to deal with him.’

  ‘Until he had his seizure, I was managing very well.’

  ‘I know and I admire you for it.’

  ‘I did not want anyone to know, I felt so ashamed, not because of what he does but because I could not help him. I would still rather they did not know. It is so humiliating for him when he is sober.’

  ‘No one will hear about it from me.’

  As they approached the stables, they saw grooms at work on a carriage standing in the yard. ‘Good Lord,’ Richard said. ‘I never thought they would be so early. They must have taken Great-Grandmama’s message to heart. Or perhaps Stephen was impatient to see you again.’

  Diana’s heart began to beat rapidly. Mr and Mrs Harecroft and Stephen had arrived and the moment she had been dreading was almost upon her.

  The family were gathered in the drawing room and had evidently been waiting for them to arrive. They had been talking, but fell silent and turned as one to face Richard and Diana when they entered. Diana felt uncomfortable under their steady gaze. It was as if they could read what was in her heart and thoroughly disapproved. The sooner she made her position clear, the better. ‘There you are, at last,’ Mrs Harecroft said.

  ‘I am sorry we were not here when you arrived,’ Richard said, kissing his mother’s cheek. ‘We did not expect you so early. I felt sure you would not leave before the end of the day’s business.’

  ‘You were the one to ask us to arrive early.’

  ‘Because I asked him to,’ the dowager put in. ‘I was afraid you might be held up on the road.’

  ‘Good afternoon, Mr Harecroft, Mrs Harecroft,’ Diana said, giving Mrs Harecroft a courteous bend of the knee. She turned towards Stephen, who stood in front of the hearth beside his father, and was struck by how like him he was. It was not only his physique, but his stance, the way he held his head, the slight lifting of the chin, which made him seem to be looking down on everyone, the way his hair was parted, the way he put his hands behind his back under his tail coat. In a few years’ time Stephen would be a mirror image of his father. ‘Mr Stephen,’ she greeted him.

  ‘Hallo, Diana. We left early so as to arrive in good time for dinner. I was disappointed you were not here when we arrived.’

  ‘I am sorry, if I had known what time you were coming, I would not have gone to the races. We went to see North Wind run…’

  ‘No matter, you are here now.’

  ‘How is your father?’ Mrs Harecroft asked.

  ‘He is progressing favourably. He came with us to Ascot. I think he enjoyed the day.’

  ‘Good. It sounds as if he is recovering well.’

  ‘I think so. He will be able to leave with me when I return to London after the party.’

  ‘I shall look forward to having you back with me,’ Stephen said.

  Diana stole a glance at Richard, who grinned ruefully at her. Now his parents and Stephen were here, he wondered how firm she would stand in her resolve to turn his brother down. They would undoubtedly bring pressure to bear on her to say yes. He wished Stephen would voluntarily withdraw his proposal, but there was little hope of it; to do so would cause no end of a scandal and he would never risk that.

  ‘You had better go and change for dinner,’ Mrs Harecroft said, addressing Richard and Diana. ‘We will have plenty of time to talk afterwards.’

  They turned to leave the room and Stephen sprang to open the door for Diana, catching her hand as he did so and raising it to his lips. Richard noted it and his heart sank; the pressure was beginning already. ‘Stephen, come and talk to me while I dress,’ he said. ‘We have some catching up to do.’

  Diana decided to wear the dress Richard had bought her in Staines; he had adamantly refused to take it back to the shop when she suggested it. It was only a gesture on her part; she had not wanted to part with it. She had just finished dressing when Mathilde arrived and told her Lady Harecroft wanted to see her.

  Her ladyship was wearing a blue dressing gown that matched the clear blue of her eyes and went w
ell with her snow-white hair. She looked Diana up and down in the same disconcerting way Richard had; perhaps he had learned it from her. ‘You look delightful,’ she said. ‘That gown is perfect for you. And your necklace is very pretty.’

  ‘Thank you, my lady. It was once my mother’s.’

  ‘Have you recovered from your headache?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. I took one of Mrs Evans’s remedies and it worked very well.’

  ‘Good. You are not thinking of disappearing again, are you?’

  ‘No, my lady.’

  ‘My daughter tells me you are set on refusing Stephen.’

  ‘Yes, I am. I am sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but he is not for me and I am not for him.’

  ‘I am not disappointed. The decision is yours and yours alone.’

  ‘I shall tell him at the first opportunity.’

  ‘But you will be at my party, won’t you?’

  ‘If you still wish it.’

  ‘Of course I still wish it.’

  ‘Then I will leave the day after. My father is almost fully recovered and we must find lodgings—’

  ‘Bring him to the party. I should like to meet him.’

  ‘That is kind of you, but I am not sure he is ready for company.’

  ‘You have just said he is almost fully recovered.’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  The old lady leaned forward and patted her hand. ‘Bring him, to please me.’

  Diana was in a cleft stick. If her father went to the party, could he be trusted to stay sober? If she said nothing to him, her ladyship would soon learn he had not even been asked and would want to know why. ‘I will see how he is tomorrow,’ she said. ‘If he is strong enough, perhaps he can come for a short time.’

  ‘Thank you. I admire the way you have protected him and worked for him—not many young ladies would have done so.’

  ‘But he is my father!’

  ‘Of course, but you are young and have your own life to lead and I do not believe the young should be hamstrung by the old. As you shall see tomorrow.’

  Before Diana could ask her what she meant, they were interrupted by the arrival of Richard. ‘Not going down to dinner, Great-Grandmama?’ he queried, seeing she was not dressed.