Dishonored

by Maria Barrett

  “Yes, unexpected, definitely that.” The duke finished his drink and motioned for another. “It is my personal secretary, Phillip, Lord Balfont, who has resigned.” He swirled the ice around his second glass of whisky. “With this terrible illness his wife has suffered he’s found it impossible to divide his loyalties. His place is, quite rightly I think, by his wife’s side.”

  “Yes, yes absolutely.” Phillip felt his chest tighten.

  “So, I am in the position of having to find a replacement, not immediately of course but within a reasonable time span and it has been suggested to me that I should consider someone younger this time, someone with a little more…” he smiled, “verve! A little more life!”

  Phillip didn’t trust himself to speak. He gripped his glass and nodded, watching Sir David Pulling out of the corner of his eye.

  “Buckingham Palace is becoming more and more concerned with public opinion, Phillip,” Sir David said, “the public are becoming more and more interested in the royal family and we have to look after their image. Someone younger, with a wife and young family, would be ideal for Edward’s household. It would help to take the pressure off.”

  Both men nodded and Phillip sipped his drink. A single man would not be suitable, that much he realized, it would only add to the already speculative rumors about the duke’s private life. “Of course there are only a very limited number of people who would be at all suited to this position,” Sir David went on, “and obviously for the right person to be already married is more than we could have hoped for.” Sir David leaned forward. “Although at some future point it would of course be necessary.”

  He placed his drink on the sofa table and glanced over at the duke.

  “Phillip, I have been very pleased with your work as my equerry over the past two years,” the duke said, “very pleased with your reputation within our circles.” He smiled. “I have discussed the matter with a number of my advisors over the past few days and, Phillip, if you are agreeable, I would like to offer you the position of personal secretary when Lord Balfont retires at the end of the year.” He watched Phillip’s face and saw the open shock there. “Of course there are a great many things that you’ll want to ask and that we’ll need to discuss. I expect this has come as a bit of a surprise?”

  “Yes, yes it has, sir. I, erm…” Phillip coughed. “I don’t really know what to say.”

  “Well don’t say anything yet, Phillip,” Sir David interrupted, “let’s go on into lunch and discuss the matter at length. I’m sure you must have an awful lot of questions.”

  Phillip placed his drink on the table and glanced down at his hands, folding them quickly in his lap to stop them trembling. Of course a senior position in the royal household was what he had always aspired to, it was his lifetime ambition. But for it to come now, at his age, the opportunity of his whole career, it left him almost speechless! He cleared his throat. “You said Lord Balfont was leaving at the end of the year?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I would naturally expect you to finish the job in India, Phillip, and then of course to sort out your personal arrangements…” The duke broke off and glanced across at Sir David.

  “A family apartment here at Kensington Palace would be decorated for you ready for, say, January the first?” Sir David said.

  Phillip nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Right, well I think lunch is ready for us now.” The duke stood. “Why don’t we continue this discussion at the table?”

  “Quite.” Sir David waited for Phillip to follow the duke and pulled up the rear. The three men went into the dining-room, the doors were closed behind them and the details of the royal appointment discussed in complete privacy.

  Phillip stood on the pavement outside Harrods and looked at his reflection in the plate-glass window. It was four o’clock in the afternoon. He had left the palace at three and had wandered around for an hour, through Kensington Gardens, on into Hyde Park and the Serpentine to see if Jane was still there painting and had ended up in Knightsbridge, feeling flat, looking at himself in the glass and wishing he could see Suzy, that he had someone, anyone to share this incredible news with.

  He straightened his tie, his regimental tie, and slicked back his hair. He did have a nice tan, he decided; Edward was right. “Edward,” he mouthed silently. He was on first-name terms with the duke and would very probably be on first-name terms with other members of the royal family when he took up his appointment. When he took up his appointment! The job was already his; Phillip could think no other way. The details escaped him, marriage, a wife and family, they were unimportant, lost in the excitement of the moment. Suddenly Phillip let out a whoop and an elderly lady next to him tutted irritably. He shrugged and went into the shop. He wanted to buy something, something to celebrate today, and made his way through the crowds of people to the gentleman’s outfitters. He would buy a new suit, or maybe a sports jacket and some flannels, even a raincoat from Burberrys. Stopping by a row of navy wool blazers, he ran his fingers over the cloth and saw the sales assistant make his way over.

  “Jane!” he suddenly said out loud.

  “Sorry, sir?” The assistant shifted the jackets very slightly on the rack and smiled at Phillip. “May I help at all?”

  “No, erm, no thank you.” Phillip instantly made up his mind. He wanted to celebrate but not with a jacket, he had too many clothes already. He wanted an excellent dinner, an extremely expensive bottle of wine and a bloody good night out. I’ll ring Jane, he thought, hurrying toward the telephones; Jane was the perfect choice. Who else could he ring on a Saturday afternoon and expect to be free for the evening?

  Jane climbed out of the lift and pulled off her hat and coat before she went back for her things. The afternoon had warmed up considerably and she was sweating with all her gear on. Dropping them on the floor by the front door of the flat, she rang the bell and went back to the lift to fetch her bag, stool and easel. She was tired after painting all day and they seemed heavier now than when she had left this morning. She struggled, quite out of breath, and glanced up wearily as Clare darted out of the flat and ran across to her, yanking her bag from her hands.

  “Jane! There’s someone on the phone!” Her arm dropped visibly with the weight of the bag. “Hurry up, Janey! Quick!”

  Jane placed her easel and fold-up stool down by her feet and straightened. “For me?”

  “Yeeeess! Of course it’s for you! Go on!”

  “Oh!” She left the things there and walked toward the flat, stopping by the door. “Are you all right, Clare?” she called over her shoulder. Clare seemed very agitated.

  “Yeeesss!” Clare made frantic shooing motions. “Go on, Jane!” she cried, quite desperately and Jane shrugged, disappearing inside to take her call.

  “Hello?” The telephone was in the sitting-room and she slumped down into an armchair as she spoke, holding the receiver in the crook of her shoulder. “Ah!” she said, glancing up at Clare who had hurried in after her, and scowling at her. “Hello, Phillip.” The earlier desperation made perfect sense now. “Fine thanks. Yes, yes I did thank you. Yes, I’m sure the West Sommerton Water-color Society will be delighted, if they stay awake long enough to see all three!”

  Clare heard Phillip’s laughter down the line while she busied herself with rearranging the photograph frames on the bureau. She smiled reassuringly at Jane.

  “No, I hadn’t planned to do anything…” Jane rubbed her legs as she spoke and saw Clare inching closer to the phone. She swapped the receiver to the other ear. “Oh, I see. Well congratulations!” Her knees were aching from sitting on that ruddy stool for so long and she couldn’t wait to get in the bath. She stopped rubbing. “Well, that’s very kind of you, Phillip, but I honestly don’t think that I can tonight.” Jane turned away from Clare’s face, aghast with shock and horror. “Yes I am free but…” Clare had darted around to where Jane could see her and was hopping up and down nodding her head, and wringing her hands. “At your club? Yes, yes, I
do know it…” Jane suddenly broke off. “Could you hold for one minute please, Phillip?” She put her hand over the receiver and said, “For God’s sake, Clare, bugger off! If I want to go out with Phillip Mills I am sure I can make up my mind without your help!”

  “But, Jane! You can’t turn him down, you can’t…”

  Jane stood and one hand in the middle of her sister’s back, she propelled Clare out of the room with a sharp shove. “I can do whatever I like,” she snapped and slammed the door shut.

  “Sorry about that, Phillip,” she said, as calmly as she could manage.

  Phillip laughed on the other end of the line. “Clare’s right you know,” he said, “you can’t turn me down.”

  Jane blushed, cringing with embarrassment. “Oh God! I…”

  “Look, why don’t you let her back into the room and tell her that I’ll pick you up in a cab at seven. If we arrange to meet at the club you might not turn up!”

  Jane was flummoxed. She still had time to back out but she’d lost her nerve. “All right,” she said. “Thank you, I’ll be ready by seven.”

  “Good, I’ll see you then.”

  “Yes, see you then. Goodbye, Phillip.” Jane glanced over at Clare who had sneaked back into the room. “He’ll pick me up at seven in a cab,” she said, banging the receiver down. “He’s been offered some sort of promotion and wanted someone to celebrate with.”

  “And he rang you!” Clare clasped her hand to her breast. “He wanted to celebrate with you, Jane! Oh, I can hardly believe it…”

  “Well don’t then!” Jane snapped. She stomped off toward the door and turned, scowling over her shoulder at Clare. “He wanted to celebrate, Clare, that’s all! And I would imagine that at four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, he couldn’t find anyone else mug enough to be free!”

  It was still only very early spring and the night air was chilly. As Jane and Phillip left the Savoy Hotel to wait for a taxi, Jane pulled her coat in a little tighter around the dress that Clare had lent her and shivered.

  “Are you all right, Jane? Would you like to sit inside and I’ll call you when the taxi arrives?”

  Jane smiled. “No, thanks, Phillip, but I’m fine.” He placed his hand on her elbow as they moved forward down the steps of the hotel toward the doorman.

  ‘Taxi, sir?”

  “Yes please.”

  They stood for a few moments in silence.

  “You two off as well!”

  Both Jane and Phillip turned as an old friend of Jane’s father’s came down the steps toward them, his arm around his wife. They had met Colonel and Mrs. Graves in the Savoy Grill.

  “Yes, yes we are, Monty!” Jane said.

  “Good meal?”

  “Superb.”

  “Excellent, excellent!” He laughed heartily and his wife rolled her eyes at Jane. “Come on, dear,” she said, tutting. “We’ve interrupted quite enough of Jane and Major Mills’ evening already.”

  “Nonsense, nonsense!”

  Jane laughed as Monty’s wife cuffed him on the arm then leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you looking so well, Jane dear. We’re off! Come on, Monty!” she called over to her husband who had struck up another conversation with Phillip. “We’re walking back; hopefully the air will sober you up a bit!”

  Monty laughed again and shook hands with Phillip. “Love, honor and obey!” he said jovially. “We seem to have got it the wrong way round!” He kissed Jane. “Good night, Jane dear. Send our good wishes to your parents!”

  “I will, Monty, thanks! Good night, Sybil!” Jane called. The colonel’s wife waved as Monty joined her and they linked arms, walking off down toward the Strand.

  “What a nice couple!” Phillip faced Jane and turned the collar of her overcoat up. “Old friends of the family?”

  “Yes.” Jane blushed as he continued to hold the lapels of her coat. “I enjoyed meeting them,” he said.

  “Good.”

  He meant it but Jane didn’t really believe him. For Phillip, eating at the high profile Savoy Grill, a restaurant that was way out of bounds when he was with Suzanna, and being able to meet people without worrying about who would say what, was a refreshing change. “I enjoyed tonight,” he said. “Thank you.”

  Jane looked up at him. “So did I,” she answered, surprised even now that she had. Phillip was good company and if she had been second, or even third choice for tonight, she hadn’t felt it.

  “Can I see you again?”

  Jane looked away. Phillip was very attractive but she was getting past wasting time on flings or friendships that didn’t lead anywhere.

  “We could go to the British Museum,” Phillip added. “I could show you some of the pieces my family have donated.”

  “Give you the chance to show off you mean!”

  Phillip laughed. “Yes, all right. Please come out with me and let me brag to you all afternoon about how important my family were in India!”

  “Oh, go on then!” Jane laughed as well. “As it’s half-term this week and I’ve nothing else to do!” Besides, she thought, what was another friendship to add to her long list? At least she wouldn’t be under any illusions with Phillip; a friendship was all it would ever be, a man like him would never see anything in her. “Thank you, I’d love to come,” she said more seriously.

  “Tuesday?”

  “Yes, Tuesday. I can come up for the day.” A black cab pulled up at that moment and the doorman opened the door for Jane. “Kensington, Queen’s Gate and then Chelsea,” Phillip said to the driver.

  Jane turned around. “Oh, don’t bother to come all the way over to Kensington, Phillip! Please, I can see myself home, honestly!” She smiled. “Get another cab and go straight home.”

  He hesitated, not knowing what to do. “Are you sure?” It was very sensible but few women would have suggested it.

  “Of course I’m sure!” Jane pulled the door shut and pressed the window down. “Good night, Phillip,” she said. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

  He stepped back, making no attempt to kiss her and smiled. “Good night, Jane. It was a pleasure.” And tapping the roof of the cab with his fist, he watched as it pulled off and Jane settled down into the seat, waving briefly as she disappeared from view.

  9

  THE SECOND FLOOR OF SELFRIDGES WAS PACKED, IT WAS A SATURDAY afternoon and the ladies’ fashion department was doing brisk business. As Jane followed Clare up the staircase toward the throng of shoppers, she felt a pang of misgiving and wondered for the umpteenth time that day why on earth she had let Clare talk her into this. It was her birthday and the last thing she wanted to do was fight her way through a department store looking for a dress that Clare considered suitable for her date. She sighed heavily as Clare turned to her and said irritably, “Come on, Janey! Anyone would think that you weren’t in the slightest bit interested in doing this!”

  But she knew Clare had her best interests at heart, it was her and Teddy’s present to her, so she smiled and replied, “Sorry, but I’m not as young as I used to be!”

  “Ha ha!” Clare shook her head. “You shouldn’t keep mentioning your age, Jane! And certainly don’t mention it to Phillip tonight!”

  Jane burst out laughing.

  “What’s so funny?” Clare demanded, hands on her hips.

  “Oh, Clare, you are!” Jane stopped laughing and curbed her smile; Clare’s face was like thunder. “You surely don’t think that Phillip doesn’t know how old I am?!”

  “Well, I erm… I just thought it might, erm…”

  Jane smiled. “Might put him off, he? If he knows I’m an old spinster just dying to get married!”

  “Don’t make fun of me, Jane.”

  Jane climbed the three steps between them and kissed Clare on the cheek. “I’m not,” she said. Clare could be remarkably immature for twenty-one but Jane still adored her. “Come on, let’s go and buy that dress you promised me for my birthday.”

  “All right.” Clare linked her
arm through Jane’s as they climbed up to the second floor. “Where shall we start?” she asked, scanning the scene.

  “You choose.”

  “OK. How about over there?” She pointed to a part of the shop that had been done out like a boutique and a mannequin in a black minidress. Jane swallowed back her automatic response; it was far from her idea of a nice dress but she let herself be led over.

  Clare began her search.

  “So Phillip knows you’re twenty-seven today, does he?” she asked, rifling through a rack of minidresses like the one on display. She pulled one out in purple and held it up for inspection.

  “Yes he knows my age,” Jane answered, silently praying that Clare put the dress back. The last thing she wanted was to come to blows over the first choice.

  “Oh.” Clare did put the dress back. She moved on to the next rack. “I suppose if you’re really good friends it doesn’t matter.” Clare glanced up. “Does it?”

  “No, no it doesn’t.” Jane moved away and fiddled with a rail of skirts and matching tunics.

  “Is that what it is then?”

  Jane took a completely unsuitable miniskirt off the rail and held it up, avoiding the question. “Hmmmm?”

  Clare walked over to her and shook her head. She swapped the skirt for a dress she had chosen and hung it in front of Jane’s body. She looked at her sister. “Is it just friendship between you and Phillip?”

  Jane sighed, removed the dress from Clare’s hands and stuffed it back on the rail.

  “It’s just that you’ve seen an awful lot of each other in the past couple of weeks and I was wondering…”

  “Clare!” Jane snapped, a little more abruptly than she’d meant to, and moved off toward another section.

  “If it was more than that, if…” Clare hurried after Jane. “If it might be…”

  “To be perfectly honest with you,” Jane said, swinging around to face her sister, “I really don’t know what it is!” And she headed straight for the designer section, leaving Clare speechless behind her.

  Jane walked through the rails of cashmere and silk, the beautifully cut suits and dresses, and ran her fingers every now and then along the sleeve of a blouse or jacket, luxuriating in the fine quality of the fabric. She stopped, glanced at herself in a full-length mirror and sighed heavily. What she’d just said to Clare was true, although she’d been avoiding thinking about it for as long as she could. In all honesty she had no idea about her relationship with Phillip Mills. She had no idea at all.