A Sense of Belonging

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘What are the three of you whispering about now?’ Grandmamma demanded to know.

  ‘We are discussing the best way to style Miss Latimer’s lovely hair,’ Mary said, holding up the thick tresses and twisting them thoughtfully into different styles. ‘Would you mind if I cut a few strands so that they dance around your face, Miss Latimer. It will make all the difference and then any style that we settle upon will seem less severe.’

  ‘Do whatever you think best. I confess I have never given the subject much thought before. Vanity of any sort was actively discouraged in my father’s house.’

  ‘Pah!’ Grandmamma snorted.

  ‘It is not vain, wanting to look one’s best, Miss Latimer,’ Emma pointed out. ‘Personally, I find attention to my appearance helps give me confidence.’

  ‘You don’t look as though you lack confidence, Lady Emma.’ Miss Latimer cast an unconcerned look in the direction of the long locks of hair that fell to the floor as Mary snipped away. ‘In fact, you cannot, since I hear you are arranging the party and acting as your brother’s hostess.’

  ‘Oh, there isn’t much arranging to do. The servants have everything in hand. Mrs Kemp and I went through the menus that Mama prepared for the last party before…’ She paused, swallowing several times until she had her emotions under control. Seeing her mother’s handwriting and the neat comments she had written in the margins after the various menus had been served, noting which dishes had been best received, had been both upsetting and fortifying. It was as though her mother had been speaking to her from beyond the grave, advising her. Encouraging her. ‘Well, the last party. We have adapted them slightly, which was all we needed to do. And as for standing beside Luke, on the few occasions before now when he’s been unable to avoid returning invitations he’s told me amusing stories about the grand people being presented to me. Being aware that they have foibles like the rest of us helped no end to steady my nerves.’

  ‘There, that’s much better,’ Mary said, standing back to examine the results of her trimming and adopting a pensive expression. ‘Now then, a chignon at the nape, I think, and then a top bun done loosely.’ Mary’s nimble fingers set to work. ‘With those natural curls framing your face, it will look simple and elegant.’

  ‘Come along, Grandmamma,’ Emma said gently, untying the scarf from around her head and running the expensive silk through her fingers. It very likely had come from India but whether it had been a gift from a lover Emma had yet to decide. It certainly wouldn’t surprise her. Her grandmother’s often outrageous behaviour had long since lost the ability to shock.

  ‘What do you think?’ Mary took a pace backwards, allowing Miss Latimer to stand and look in a mirror.

  ‘Good heavens, is that me? I had no idea a hairstyle could make so much difference. I look almost attractive.’

  ‘I’m glad you approve. It’s an easy style to maintain, just so long as you don’t go charging about on horseback. I’ll show you how to do it, if you like.’

  ‘Thank you, yes. I would like.’

  ‘Told you so,’ Grandmamma said, sounding smug.

  ‘Never let it be said that Grandmamma is gracious in victory,’ Emma said with a smile.

  ‘Gracious, be damned. The girl’s too stubborn for her own good.’

  ‘Well, we had best go and change for dinner,’ Mary said, glancing at the long clock in the corner of the room as it chimed the half hour.

  ‘Mr Watson is here,’ Emma added in a negligent tone.

  ‘Ah, that scoundrel’s arrived, has he?’ Grandmamma said, fixing Emma with a gimlet gaze that made her blush. ‘What does he want this time? As though I couldn’t guess. Your brother’s brandy supplies are greatly diminished when those three get together.’

  ‘He is almost part of the family,’ Mary explained. ‘He was at school and then university with our brother and Paul Dalton. You’ve met Paul, I expect,’ she added, to which Miss Latimer nodded. ‘He was destined for some important post in the city but Luke persuaded him to come here and work for him instead. No one knows precisely what he does for Luke, but they are more or less inseparable, and when Mr Watson joins them it seems as though the years fall away and they’re running riot all over Oxford again. Luke seems less worn down with his responsibilities when Mr Watson is around, that much I do know.’

  ‘You will dine downstairs with us today, I hope, Grandmamma,’ Emma said. The old lady had taken to her room for over a week and had refused to budge from it.

  ‘I shall do as I please.’

  ‘Good.’ Emma kissed her cheek, relieved to see improvements in her beloved grandmother’s spirits, which had been low for a long time.

  Miss Latimer stood and rang the bell for Sandwell. ‘I will make my own preparations and call back for you later, ma’am,’ she said. ‘I shall not be long.’

  She left the with the girls, smiled at them and slipped into her adjoining room.

  Chapter Five

  Luke felt cautiously optimistic about Miss Latimer’s ability to control his grandmother’s excesses. His elderly relation responded well to unconventional people, and Miss Latimer certainly qualified in that regard.

  Alvin Watson strode into the room, his outstretched hand still dusty from the road, and Luke put Miss Latimer’s potential abilities to the back of his mind. Paul followed close on his heels as Luke greeted their friend warmly. The years fell away and Luke felt carefree, nothing more taxing on his mind than the latest escapade the four of them had planned for that evening. More than likely a revenge raid upon an adjoining college.

  ‘Good journey?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Tolerable.’

  ‘It’s only twenty miles from that crumbling pile you’ve inherited, Alvin,’ Paul pointed out as he went to the sideboard and poured four glasses of whisky, leaving one where it was and handing the others round. The three men stood in a semi-circle and raised their glasses to the one that remained untouched—and always would.

  ‘To absent friends,’ Luke said sombrely.

  ‘Absent friends,’ the other two echoed.

  All three men downed the contents of their glasses and Paul supplied refills. They then sat down and the conversation became general.

  ‘So, the time has come to tie the knot, I take it,’ Alvin said, not without sympathy ‘which is why you need me here to run interference.’

  ‘The party has to end sometime,’ Luke replied with a casualness he didn’t feel.

  Alvin frowned. ‘Seems a bit drastic though. We did all agree that none of us would take the plunge until we reached thirty.’

  ‘He has a selective memory,’ Paul said, shrugging. ‘You know what he’s like, Alvin. When he gets an idea into that thick skull of his, there’s no shifting it.’

  ‘Only two years to go,’ Luke said. ‘What difference will it make if I decide to jump the gun? Besides, I have responsibilities now that I never imagined I would be required to assume so soon. It changes one’s perspective. I’ve had to grow up, damn it!’

  Alvin laughed good-naturedly. ‘It had to happen sometime.’

  ‘The girls, they deserve…’

  ‘You won’t talk him out of it,’ Paul said with a world-weary sigh. ‘He can be as pig-headed as his grandmother when he makes up his mind about something. You know that.’

  ‘What is it, Luke?’ Alvin asked, the laughter abruptly fading from his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me the prospect of the fragrant Lily is that discomposing?’

  ‘Actually, it’s not that.’ Luke paused to take another healthy swig of his drink. ‘I’m sorry to land this on you the moment you arrive, but I’ve only just learned of it myself and I’m afraid we need to talk about it. I could use your advice.’

  Alvin exchanged a look with Paul, who spread his hands and shrugged.

  ‘I received a letter from a person I never expected to hear from again,’ Luke said, his expression grim.

  ‘Who?’ his two friends asked simultaneously.

  Luke took a deep inhalation. ‘Magda Sim
pson.’

  Paul’s expression darkened as he let forth a string of expletives.

  ‘What!’ Alvin choked on his drink. ‘She’s got a damned nerve, I’ll say that for her. What does she want?’

  ‘To meet me. She’s here in Swindon.’

  ‘Don’t go, Luke,’ Paul said, his jaw rigid with tension as he glanced at the still untouched glass of whisky. ‘It can only mean trouble.’

  ‘I wouldn’t, but for the fact that she’s here, in my part of the world. On my damned doorstep!’

  ‘Even so,’ Alvin replied. ‘She cannot get to you here at Beranger Court.’

  ‘But she can make trouble for me, spread unsubstantiated rumours, that sort of thing.’

  Alvin waved the suggestion aside. ‘There’s nothing she can do to harm you, not without committing perjury.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn what she says about me.’ Luke grimaced. ‘But I must think of my sisters. Anything that tarnishes my reputation will reflect badly upon their chances of making good marriages.’

  ‘I take you point, although I suspect that you are worrying unnecessarily,’ Alvin said with a thoughtful nod. ‘You never fell victim to her dubious charms, despite her best efforts to lure you in.’ Three heads bowed in remembrance of the one amongst their number who had given way to temptation, and who paid the ultimate price for his obsession with the woman. ‘You’re aware that her husband died about a year ago?’

  ‘No, I didn’t know that. I haven’t kept tabs on her. In fact I wanted to forget all about her.’ He glanced at Paul. ‘Sorry,’ he added. ‘This must be especially painful for you.’

  Paul gave a grim nod. ‘If you insist upon meeting with her—and I can see why you think that you should—then you can’t go alone. Where is she?’

  ‘She’s staying with the Chiseldons.’

  ‘Do I know them?’ Alvin asked.

  ‘I doubt it. They made a fortune when the canals around these parts were the main form of transportation. The trains have taken over now, but Chiseldon made a mint and had the sense to diversify when he saw the way that the wind blew.’

  ‘I see.’ Alvin gave a mirthless chuckle. ‘A bit of a comedown for Magda then, to be associating with such people. She always spoke very poorly of self-made men.’

  ‘It rather suggests that Simpson didn’t leave her as well provided for as she would have liked,’ Paul said speculatively.

  ‘I shall soon know,’ Luke said with a heavy sigh.

  ‘When will you go and see her?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Now. This afternoon. Get it over with.’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No, Paul. Thank you, but she has damaged you quite enough.’

  ‘You’re not going alone,’ Alvin said with determination. ‘If you do there’s no telling what tricks she might pull in order to compromise you. I’ll tag along.’

  ‘Very well. If you think you can stand it.’ Luke drained his glass and stood up. ‘Come on then, let’s do this.’

  A short time later the two men rode down the driveway, the familiarity of a long friendship rendering words superfluous. They arrived at Chiseldon House half an hour later. Alvin let out a low whistle as he took in the extensive manor house and pristine grounds surrounding it.

  ‘Time are changing,’ he observed.

  Luke nodded. ‘It used to belong to a titled family. Men like Chiseldon are taking advantage of the upper class’s propensity for living beyond its means. Can’t blame them for that, I suppose.’

  ‘Our lot will close ranks against them, though. I’ve seen it happen.’

  ‘Beats me why they’d want to join a society that doesn’t welcome them. They’d be better off acquiring as much money as possible so that they become the ruling class by default. Then they can set their own standards.’

  The conversation brought them to the front of the house, where two smartly attired grooms ran to take their horses.

  ‘Ready?’ Luke asked, as they ascended the steps and the door was opened by a butler before either man could wield the knocker.

  Luke handed his hat and card to the butler simultaneously, informing him that he had called to see Mrs Simpson.

  ‘If you would be so kind as to wait in here, gentlemen.’ The butler opened the door to a small ante-room. ‘I shall ascertain whether Mrs Simpson is at home.’

  Luke could have told him not to bother. She would definitely be at home for him. Neither man sat. Instead they prowled around the small space liked caged tigers, examining the ornaments, the pictures and furniture—all of which, Luke suspected, had been sold to the Chiseldons with the property. Instant gentrification.

  ‘Mrs Simpson will see you now, my lord.’

  ‘I’ll just bet she will,’ Alvin said sotto voce. ‘She’ll get a bit of a shock to see me as well.’

  Luke nodded, having asked Alvin not to present his card for that very reason. Magda Simpson was not the type to play fair, and since he had no intention of repeating this call, he was determined to get it out of the way once and for all. The butler led them into a large over-furnished drawing room, the décor of which was a little too ostentatious for Luke’s taste. But he wasn’t here to criticise the Chiseldons’ living arrangements and so forced himself to turn his attention to Magda.

  ‘Luke, how very kind of you to…’ Her smile faltered. ‘Oh, Alvin. They did not tell me you were here too.’

  ‘And yet here you find me.’

  Alvin stood with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. He made no attempt to greet the woman who had caused them so much collective grief with anything other than an attitude of bland indifference. Luke took a moment to study Magda. She had always been quite exquisitely beautiful, and the passage of time had been kind to her. Five years older than Luke and his friends, she was now at the height of her beauty, much as a toxic flower is at its most deadly when in full bloom.

  ‘Sit down, gentlemen. Would you care for tea?’

  ‘This is not a social call, Magda,’ Luke said crisply. ‘Tell me what is so urgent that I must drop everything to wait upon you. Then we can go our separate ways and never see one another again.’

  The butler hovered, awaiting her instructions. When it became obvious that neither of them had the least intention of drinking tea with her and chatting about old times, she waved the man away with a careless flip of one wrist.

  ‘I had hoped for an opportunity to converse with you alone, Luke,’ she said into the ensuing silence that neither man attempted to break. ‘The matter is somewhat delicate…’

  ‘Don’t play games, Magda. There is nothing delicate about our relationship, such as it is, and nor has there ever been. Anything you have to say can be said in front of Alvin.’

  ‘Very well.’ She paused, wringing her hands together in her lap as she gathered her thoughts. ‘You will have heard that my husband passed away a little over a year ago?’

  ‘My condolences. I dare say you recovered quickly from your loss.’

  She winced. ‘I suppose I deserved that.’ Luke and Alvin both failed to issue the denial she probably expected. ‘I have decided to close the London house. It is…well, too expensive to maintain. My late husband suffered considerable losses on his stocks and shares shortly before his passing, leaving me less well placed than I had anticipated.’

  ‘And this concerns me because…?’ Luke fixed her with an impatient look.

  ‘Because I am considering purchasing a smaller establishment in this part of the country and I thought you should be aware of my plans. After all, our paths are bound to cross and I didn’t want you to be taken unawares.’

  ‘How very considerate of you,’ Alvin muttered in a scathing tone.

  ‘Why? In all of England, why choose this county?’ Luke struggled to contain his temper. ‘You must be aware that my family is the principal one in the district and that others follow our lead.’

  ‘Yes, which is why it seems sensible for us to put the past be
hind us.’

  Luke glanced at Alvin, totally affronted by her gall. Alvin seemed similarly outraged. ‘If you settle here you will crave admittance to local society,’ Luke said through gritted teeth. ‘So let me make my situation crystal clear, just so that there is no misunderstanding between us. You will not be welcomed by me or admitted to Beranger Court. If you asked me here thinking you could persuade me otherwise then you have a very short memory.’ Luke fixed her with a look of unmitigated dislike. ‘And once others see that you are ostracised by me, you will find few invitations making their way to your door. That being the case, you might think it prudent to relocate elsewhere.’

  She fixed her gaze on her folded hands. ‘I didn’t imagine that you were the type to bear grudges, Luke.’

  ‘You think we lack just cause to want nothing to do with you?’ Luke shook his head. ‘Even someone as self-centred as you are must realise how much damage you—’

  She sighed, tilted her head and flashed the susceptible smile that used to captivate Luke, forcing him to fight the attraction he’d once felt towards her. It now left him cold. ‘No one regrets more than I do what happened, and if I could change it I would do so in a heartbeat but…’ She spread her hands and tried another helpless smile. ‘I knew you would hear that I was here sooner or later and I didn’t want you to think that I had come with the deliberate intention of inflicting myself upon you.’ She looked away, giving a convincing display of vulnerability and regret. Luke saw straight through it. ‘The fact of the matter is that the Chiseldons have been a great comfort to me. Their son was a junior officer in my husband’s regiment and helped me to recover from my devastation when the news of his death reached me.’

  ‘I can well imagine,’ Luke said, disgust almost choking him.

  ‘I was invited to stay here. I arrived last week and have already decided it will be a perfect area to settle. Close enough to London to make returning to the capital easily manageable, and yet far enough away to be tranquil. The area is thriving, there are no end of entertainments if one is so inclined. I confess that since Simpson’s demise I have not been, but perhaps that will change.’