‘It’s not the ideal way of winning, I must admit,’ Lord Childhays confessed to Portia as his retinue of servants began to lay the tables for tea. ‘But then rules are rules and of course if one does pass the wrong side of a marker then one can make up a good two or three lengths, sometimes even more depending on how wide the other yacht sails.’
‘I heard a member of your crew when he came aboard a few moments ago saying the Belvedere was a good three lengths clear at the turn,’ Portia said. ‘He was certain you would have won by that margin had the Americans not made that mistake.’
‘Good,’ Lord Childhays returned. ‘That makes me feel considerably better. I haven’t actually had a chance to talk to the crew yet other than congratulate them, but then perhaps I have no real need if you have gathered a full report, Miss Tradescant.’
‘I have a certain trouble with you, Lord Childhays, if you do not mind my saying so, and that is with knowing when to take you seriously,’ Portia said.
‘Always take me seriously when you think I am jesting,’ Lord Childhays told her. ‘And vice versa. That is, Miss Tradescant, if you wish to take me seriously.’
‘I doubt if I should be here did I not, Lord Childhays.’
‘But what of your interest in yachting, Miss Tradescant? Is that not what brought you primarily to Cowes?’
‘I am not yet prepared to answer that, sir. I think that is what they call a leading question.’
Lord Childhays laughed, throwing his head back to stare momentarily up at the skies high above them. Then he turned to Portia and looked at her, with open affection.
‘Would you perhaps like to see over the Belvedere?’ he asked.
‘I should like that very much, Lord Childhays,’ Portia replied. ‘Is it possible?’
‘I don’t see why not. If you are willing then I shall ask your aunt’s permission to ferry you across and you may inspect her at your leisure.’
‘Are you coming, Lord Childhays?’
‘I am not sure whether that would be altogether proper, Miss Tradescant. Even though there will be others in the party. I might well set sail and abduct you to the Balearics.’
Portia laughed but remained looking into his eyes. ‘I doubt that very much, sir,’ she said.
‘Even so, Miss Tradescant, I think it safer if I stay on board here with my other guests. Just in case. As you have no doubt heard, I am not always the best fellow to be confronted by the devil.’
Instead he had Portia rowed across to the magnificent eighty-foot schooner which now lay at anchor not half a mile distant. She was accompanied by Lord and Lady Elcho who had also never been on board the famous racer but not by Aunt Tattie who said she would rather stay on board the Medici. As the oarsmen rowed the party away from their host’s yacht Portia waved to her aunt who was standing on deck with Mr Shore by her side and it was only at that moment Portia realized whom he resembled. Mr Patrick Shore was a handsome (and altogether more prepossessing) double of her brother’s late and unlamented tutor Mr Swift.
* * *
On their return from the Belvedere Lord Childhays was immediately anxious to find out what Portia’s impression of his racing yacht had been.
‘I am at a loss for words,’ she said. ‘I have only ever seen such a yacht in photographs. For instance I have seen plenty of photographs of the famous American schooner, the America, but it isn’t until you actually get on board a craft such as yours that you realize the sheer beauty of her lines and imagine how she must ride the seas.’
‘Not being a sailor of any great experience myself, Miss Tradescant, I can only go by what I am told,’ Lord Childhays replied. ‘But my skipper and crew tell me that they know of no better vessel in her class, and none faster. Under full sail and with the wind behind her I hear is an unclassifiable experience.’
‘Yes,’ Portia said thoughtfully. ‘I can well imagine.’
Lord Childhays put both his hands on the polished rail in front of them and stared out across the Solent to where his yacht lay. ‘Would you like to sail her, Miss Tradescant?’ he asked after a moment, still staring across the water.
‘I have the feeling you know the answer to that full well, Lord Childhays,’ Portia replied, also keeping her eyes on the yacht.
‘Let me put it another way, if I might.’ Lord Childhays cleared his throat before continuing. ‘You would probably like to sail the Belvedere as much as I would like you to be my wife.’
Even though she had been half expecting a proposal from the man beside her, it still took Portia by surprise, not by its timing but by the effect it had on her. For one long moment she was falling soundlessly through space without a heartbeat and without any knowledge of who or what she was.
‘I didn’t know that you wanted me to be your wife,’ she replied on her return to earth.
‘Oh, I think you did, Miss Tradescant,’ Lord Childhays replied, with a light laugh. ‘I think you might have suspected it. But whether you did or you didn’t, would you consider my proposal?’
‘Which is, sir?’
‘That you become my wife.’
‘I shall certainly consider it, Lord Childhays. I shall give it every consideration. But I feel I may have to refuse, lest you think I might be marrying you for your yacht.’
‘Yes,’ Lord Childhays said, nodding agreement. ‘I thought you might come up with something along those lines. Very well, if I said you may never sail the Belvedere, then would you marry me?’
‘No,’ Portia replied, ‘because that is not the sort of man you are. I don’t think you would impose conditions on someone whom you wished to marry, nor would I think it fair if you felt you had to do so.’
‘So do you have any suggestions, Miss Tradescant? Because I have the feeling we could be reaching an impasse here.’
‘Yes,’ Portia said, now turning to look at him. ‘I do have a suggestion, because I would very much like to learn how to sail the Belvedere. And that is this. I suggest that you let me buy her.’
‘And if I do?’ Lord Childhays said after a moment.
‘I might indeed marry you.’
‘Very well. I will let you buy the Belvedere. For one hundred pounds.’
‘For whatever she is really worth,’ Portia corrected him.
‘That was not a stipulation, was it? Doesn’t the vendor have the right to set his price?’
‘Of course he does. I stand corrected. Very well, Lord Childhays—’
Lord Childhays interrupted her with a laugh, only to earn himself a frown from Portia and a quick reprimand. ‘I am being serious, Lord Childhays.’
‘So am I, Miss Tradescant,’ Lord Childhays replied. ‘I warned you earlier. You know when I am being serious because it is when you think I am in jest.’
‘I remember what you said, sir. So now please hear me out. I will buy the Belvedere. Agreed?’
‘Agreed. For one hundred pounds.’
‘I will buy the Belvedere for one hundred pounds—’
‘Splendid!’ Lord Childhays exclaimed. ‘Shall we shake on the transaction?’
‘I will buy the Belvedere for one hundred pounds but if I do I will not marry you,’ Portia finished. ‘However, if you let me buy her for what she is really worth, then I will marry you.’
Now Lord Childhays frowned and stayed frowning. ‘Have you the slightest idea what a yacht like that costs to build, Miss Tradescant?’
‘I can only hazard a guess, Lord Childhays. However, I have to tell you that when I am of age I stand to inherit a small fortune, enough I imagine to secure the purchase of your yacht.’
Still Lord Childhays frowned. ‘And if I agree? If I let you have the Belvedere at your valuation and granted the consent of your father, you will be my wife?’
‘Yes,’ Portia said. ‘Most certainly.’
‘I see. May I ask you why you would like to be my wife, Miss Tradescant?’
‘Of course you may, Lord Childhays. I would like to be your wife for the selfsame reason I hope that you would wis
h me to be so.’
‘And that is?’
‘I think it is for a gentleman to tell a lady such a thing first, do you not, Lord Childhays?’
‘Of course.’ Lord Childhays smiled and took one of Portia’s hands in his. ‘I would like you to be my wife, you perfectly charming creature, because ever since the first day I saw you on the stairs at Medlar House I have loved you with all my heart.’
‘And I would like to marry you, Lord Childhays, because ever since I first saw you on the selfsame stairway I think I too have loved you.’
‘Think is not anywhere good enough, Miss Tradescant,’ Lord Childhays replied. ‘I know I love you.’
‘And I know I love you too, Lord Childhays,’ Portia admitted. ‘Although I have to say it was not my intention to do so.’
‘No, by George – nor mine either!’ Lord Childhays agreed. ‘But none the less I feel it is the best decision I have made in my life. It will be yours too, my dearest, I promise you that. For as I hope you will soon find out, there is no more satisfactory marriage to be made than to someone who has totally reformed his ways.’
‘Do you know, I think there well may be a great deal of truth in that?’ Portia returned, taking the arm that was proffered her and smiling back at the tall handsome man with the dark and twinkling eyes who was now to be her husband. ‘Just as one would hardly sail the Belvedere around the world with a novice skipper at the helm.’
‘Indeed one would not, Miss Tradescant,’ Lord Childhays agreed and then laughed. ‘Although in truth it would not be much fun even sailing across the Solent with such a fellow!’
He then began to walk Portia along the deck so that they might first break the news to Aunt Tattie and then the assembled company. As he did, Portia sneaked a quick look over her shoulder at the beautiful yacht which still lay anchored nearby and in which she imagined she would soon be making the first of many intrepid voyages. Then she smiled and turned her full attention back to the man she was to marry, hardly able to believe in her good fortune.
* * *
Naturally Lord Childhays and Portia attended the great ball held at Petworth Castle at the end of Goodwood week. Everyone attended Daisy Evesham’s costume party, everyone who was anyone that is, even those who came from rival houses such as the Medlars and the Donegals. Such is the demand made by being in Society. As the man who at this very moment stood on the brink of his own personal tragedy wrote in one of his comedies of manners, to be in Society is merely a bore. But to be out of it is simply a tragedy. Such indeed it was deemed to be if one was not summoned by the Eveshams to the event of the decade. There were even rumours of invitation cards which were forgeries, and many people who were considered of a certain eminence and respectability but who had not received a summons tried nevertheless to gatecrash, much to their humiliation because Daisy had hired a cohort of policemen to check each and every invitation against her original guest list.
Since the party was being held in a castle security in fact was easily achieved, as those who arrived without an invitation soon found out to their cost. Some of the more rowdy elements of Society, their courage already fortified by copious amounts of champagne, attempted at one point to storm the drawbridge but were easily repulsed by the constabulary who threw most of them into the moat, much to the delight of the vast throng of onlookers who had gathered outside the ramparts to watch the guests arriving and to boggle at their apparel and jewellery. No expense had been spared on their costumes by those fortunate enough to be invited, most of the guests going to the trouble of dressing up their coaches and footmen in medieval attire and even arriving not in modern equipages but in transport which was also in period, pulled by teams of horses tacked up in the correct harness. Each coach or cart load of guests was cheered to the echo by the crowds, as were the younger members of Society who chose to arrive on horseback, their carriage horses miraculously transformed into medieval chargers by the addition of wonderfully colourful hoods and cloths. Daisy had even gone to the length of hiring locals to play the roles of prisoners whom she had shut up in dungeons which were visible across the moat, as she also had imprisoned several beautiful and fair maidens in the turrets of the front towers.
Inside as planned the rooms of the castle in which the party was to be held had been totally refurbished in the style of the Middle Ages. There were groups of strolling players playing ancient instruments and singing madrigals, court jesters, tumblers and acrobats, and even a Gypsy with a dancing bear. The tables in the main banqueting hall were set as the traditional hollow E, with a shorter table as the head and two long tables groaning with food and wine running at right angles each side. In the centre of the top table there were four throne-like chairs, the centre two being the largest and reserved of course for the Prince and Princess of Wales, but since this was a costume party or masque (which was Daisy’s preferred term) Daisy had thrown away the etiquette book as far as the placement was concerned and instead of seating herself and her husband on either side of their royal guests she had reserved those places for Harry, who was costumed as a prince, and for May who it had been agreed would come dressed as a princess, ‘Prince’ Harry to sit beside the Princess of Wales with his mother the other side of him, and ‘Princess’ May to sit beside the Prince of Wales with the Earl of Evesham on her other side. All the servants were wearing period costume and every detail of the banquet was correct down to the last detail, so much so that as soon as the first guests began to arrive and circulate around the castle they knew at once they were indeed in for the event of the decade.
Naturally there had been much careful research on the part of the hostess as to what her royal guests were intending to wear so that no-one would clash with them, which was just as well since the prince decided to costume himself as Henry VIII and the princess as Catherine of Aragon, the former costume having been pencilled in by countless of the more corpulent and less originally minded members of Society. On learning of the prince’s choice the Earl of Evesham elected to dress as Cardinal Wolsey, suitably enough, while Daisy finally decided after much deliberation to appear as Joan of Arc, the idea finally attracting her when Jenkins suggested that the highlight of the evening – after the announcement of the betrothal of Prince Harry to Princess May – should be the execution of the Maid of Orléans on a mock bonfire in the centre of the castle courtyard. This sold the idea entirely to Daisy, who saw some sort of vague allegory in her being apparently burned at the stake in front of her ex-lover and future king, while her now thoroughly disenchanted maid went around telling everyone else’s maids that if it was up to her she would make certain that both the fire and the faggots were real.
Everything went completely according to plan up to and including the arrival of the royal party who declared themselves highly delighted and amused as soon as they had set foot inside the castle by the costumes, the décor, and the period detail. In fact long before the banquet was due to begin the prince was seen publicly to congratulate Daisy on her inspired imagination and her faultless organization. Yet although it seemed that nothing could now go wrong, already there was a rumour abroad that all was not well and that Daisy Evesham was about to receive some of her very own medicine.
The rumours were put about by those well positioned in high places, such as Lady Patrycia ffitch-Heyes and her closely knit coterie. Naturally with the princess present Lady Patrycia was required to be in attendance as the princess’s most senior and favoured lady-in-waiting, so she was ideally situated to start the rumour-mongering, particularly since she was known to be a woman of the very utmost integrity. Thus if she let it be known to another trusted confidante that she gathered all was not as it might be, that was sufficient to start to ignite the tinder which in turn would spark the trail of powder which in its turn would finally blow up the entire arsenal.
She had let it first be known that something was amiss only minutes after the arrival of the royal party. She mentioned it en passant to another courtier as if it was something she had jus
t learned.
‘There is speculation that Lady Evesham is to suffer a rebuff,’ she murmured as a line of guests was drawn up to be presented to the Prince of Wales. ‘I know no more. That is all. Simply that someone has it in mind to repay a debt.’
‘But who?’ the courtier had wondered in return. ‘And how? How can she be slighted now that their Royal Highnesses are present? No-one here surely would dare to make any such gesture in front of members of the royal family.’
‘No,’ Patrycia ffitch-Heyes replied. ‘No-one here would. But then one does not have necessarily to be present in person to effect a coup.’
Of course the word spread like wildfire, just as the originator of the rumour knew it would, so much so that even Daisy herself felt a distinct change in the atmosphere, as if the buzz of excitement had now changed to one of anticipation and for the life of her she could not imagine what else her crowd of guests might be expecting now that the royal party had arrived and the picture so to speak was complete.
Not quite. Almost, but not quite and the missing pieces would not be seen to be missing until it was time for everyone to take their places at dinner, which in answer to a clarion trumpet call from a corps of uniformed heralds everyone then began to do, sorting themselves out in line with the directions they had noted from several enormous seating plans which had been spread out on the tables in the ante-chamber.
It was during the five minutes it took for the assembled gathering to find their rightful places that Daisy began to sense the possibility of a calamity. At first she was unable quite to pinpoint the cause for her unease but then when the royal party settled themselves in their seats at the centre of the top table and Daisy herself, her husband and her son went to take theirs she realized with a jolt of horror exactly what was wrong. There was no Princess May.
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