Quickly Daisy fetched her camera. She would have to trust Maud to press the button but she was determined to have a photograph of herself and her sisters together just before their very first grown-up party.
‘Line up,’ she said. ‘Poppy next to Violet, then leave a space for me and then you, Rose.’
She peered at them for a moment and then handed the camera to Maud and took her place between her sisters.
‘Derrington Sisters Take the Fashionable World by Storm,’ said Rose.
The stage is set, thought Daisy an hour later. It was one minute to six and everyone was gathered in the transformed dining room.
The telephone had been busy. Bateman’s friend the stationmaster had rung the house when the Duchess’s train was within ten minutes of the station and again when Morgan had left with Her Grace, so they knew almost to the minute what time she would arrive at the house. Daisy had arranged everybody in the dining room – young men in a group where candlelight fell on their starched snowy shirts, Great-Aunt Lizzie in an upright chair looking splendidly Victorian and sparkling with diamonds, Rose in her short velvet dress on a rug by her feet, Poppy on a chair by the window, her magnificent sheaf of bronze hair spread over the white silk and distracting attention from the frayed curtains, the table with colourful food spread on Lazarus’s winding sheet and Violet, all by herself, standing beside the branched chandelier whose light gleamed on her black hair while the firelight made her blue-green dress sparkle as if the beads were precious stones.
Encouraged by Sir Guy’s words, Daisy moved around the room, photographing the groups, keeping everyone in position until the big moment arrived.
‘Her Grace, the Duchess of Denton,’ announced Bateman and Great-Aunt Lizzie turned and smiled with such pure pleasure and slight surprise that Daisy thought she might be the best actor in the family.
‘Your Grace.’ Great-Aunt Lizzie got to her feet gracefully and Michael Derrington moved forward, just one step behind her.
‘So kind of you to allow to me to break my journey here.’ The Duchess was a small fat woman with an enormous bosom. She pecked the air somewhere in the vicinity of her hostess’s left cheek and announced, ‘I must say that I loathe staying in those hotels at Dover. Full of all sorts of riff-raff.’
Great-Aunt Lizzie did not blanch. Daisy’s eyes met the butler’s and he gave a tiny nod. He and Mrs Pearson could be relied on to have a fire lit in the purple room and clean sheets and bedding would be produced from the linen cupboard. In a moment, thought Daisy, I’ll slip out and help, but in the meantime she wanted to see the impression made by Violet who was just being introduced playfully as ‘the birthday girl’.
‘But my dear, you are so lovely.’ The Duchess craned up to kiss Violet’s cheeks, murmuring about how the years had passed and presenting her with a tiny box which Violet opened to reveal a small oval-shaped brooch . It was a pallid affair with a row of seed pearls interspersed with a few tiny chips of diamonds.
‘I must get to know you, my dear,’ she said graciously. ‘Goodness, I can’t believe that you are eighteen years old already. Tell me, what are the plans for your debut?’
‘What do you think?’ Rose whispered to Daisy with her eyes fixed discreetly on the floor and her hands clasped demurely in front of her. Daisy did not need to ask her sister what she meant. There was only one question in the minds of all of the Derrington females: would the Duchess sponsor Violet through the debutante season and the presentation at Buckingham Palace?
The whole of the staff at Beech Grove Manor waited at table when the party sat down to the birthday supper. ‘A small, informal affair for the children,’ Great-Aunt Lizzie informed the Duchess. Even Maud the scullery maid had been fitted out with a snowy white apron and cap and drilled by Mrs Pearson in the correct way to hand and remove dishes. Morgan had removed his chauffeur’s uniform and, wearing a ten-year-old suit of the Earl’s – too tight for its owner – proved to be very useful as a footman, pouring wine and serving the Duchess with an elaborate flourish which made the butler look at him with alarm.
Daisy leaned over and rescued her camera from under the chair.
‘Daisy, dear, do put away your camera,’ said Great-Aunt Lizzie, but not before the flashbulb had gone off three times.
‘Just a few birthday photographs, Great-Aunt,’ said Daisy. ‘Excuse me, Your Grace; I should have asked first, I know, but I didn’t want anyone posing.’
The Duchess smiled forgivingly at Daisy. ‘What a very pretty dress, my dear – that pink so suits you. And what lovely pearls. I must say that you have four very beautiful daughters, my lord – all so unalike, aren’t they? My two girls are like peas in a pod except that Catherine is eighteen and Paula is sixteen. No, no more, thank you.’ She put down her knife and fork and ranged them side by side in a determined gesture, turning to Baz with a sweet smile. ‘I hear you young people are going to have a little dance afterwards,’ she said. ‘Your chauffeur told me on the way from the station.’ Her glance ranged over the servants standing stiffly to attention at the side of the room and passed over Morgan without recognition.
Next the Duchess whispered to Simon, who had been sitting next to her, and he started to his feet, his fair-skinned face slightly flushing, and went up to Violet, politely pulling out her chair and escorting her to his place beside the Duchess.
Daisy stole a look at Great-Aunt Lizzie, who had looked slightly affronted at first to see her dinner arrangements upset but then smiled with satisfaction as she saw the Duchess plying Violet with questions.
Simon and Justin stared at each other with mutual annoyance.
‘All those boys are in love with Violet,’ Sir Guy remarked to Daisy. Great-Aunt Lizzie was talking so loudly to Justin and Poppy was laughing so much over Baz’s jokes, which seemed to be aiming at getting Morgan to laugh too, that Sir Guy’s quietly spoken comments only reached her ear.
‘Not Baz,’ pointed out Daisy. ‘He and Poppy have been friends since they were little and when they’re together they talk nothing but jazz. Anyway, none of those boys have a chance with Vi. You know she will settle for nothing less than a duke.’
‘What about you, Daisy?’ asked Sir Guy. ‘Got anyone in mind?’
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘I just don’t meet anyone except the jazz band boys and they seem a bit silly and young to me.’
He chuckled. ‘Your father and I were exactly the same when we were their age – racing around the corridors of this place getting into all sorts of scrapes.’
‘Did you meet Elaine Carruthers when you used to stay here?’ Daisy asked casually.
Sir Guy was eating devilled eggs when the question came. His fork slipped from his grasp and fell to the floor. Instantly Morgan was at his side proffering a clean one on a silver tray.
‘Thank you, Morgan,’ said Sir Guy solemnly.
‘Sir,’ said Morgan stiffly, and Daisy saw the butler give an approving glance from the corner of his eye.
‘He’s doing quite a good impression of a real footman,’ said Sir Guy, as the chauffeur withdrew. ‘You should use him in a film, Daisy. If he can act like that he would be a wonderful asset to you.’
Aware that he was trying to distract her, she tried again. ‘What did Elaine look like?’
Sir Guy shot her an uneasy glance.
‘Who’s been talking to you about Elaine?’
‘No one,’ said Daisy with perfect truth. ‘That’s why I am asking you. You know what Father is like.’ She glanced over her shoulder, but Michael Derrington was consulting with the butler about a port that he fancied might still be down in the cellar. The wine at supper had done him good. He face was slightly flushed and his eyes had lost that deep look of sadness that they normally wore. And now that the Duchess’s attention was fastened on Violet he was quite happy. ‘You know what he’s like,’ she repeated in low tones. ‘He hates to be reminded of Mother.’
‘Yes, yes, I know,’ said Sir Guy. ‘Well, to be honest, I don’t know much about
Elaine. I know that there was some sort of row, but I don’t know the details. Elaine was so much younger than your mother that no one would have taken them to be sisters. She was just a child when I used to visit here, before your parents went out to India.’
So she was her mother’s sister.
‘How many years were between them?’ asked Daisy casually, selecting one of the pike fishcakes and sending a smile across the table at Justin as she bit into it.
‘Let me see . . . she must have been a child of four or five when your mother was married. That’s the last time that I saw her, I think.’ He paused, obviously considering how much he should divulge. ‘That’s right, a little blonde girl. Never saw her again,’ he added. ‘Went out to India when she was about seventeen or eighteen, I think.’
‘That’s right,’ said Daisy. It was time to change the conversation. ‘What about Great-Aunt Lizzie, Sir Guy? How would she do in a film? Has she got an interesting face?’
‘She’ll do better when the talking films come in. Her voice is good and she can put a chap down very easily. I could see a role in the right sort of film, but only as a background in these silent films. Look at her face – it doesn’t show much. She’s a lady who keeps her thoughts to herself.’
She certainly does, thought Daisy. What could possibly have happened to make the family pretend that Elaine had never existed?
Chapter Eight
The ballroom looked wonderful. It was a long room, stretching from the front to the back of the house, with two windows at each end and two fireplaces made from fine white marble. Normally it seemed bare and rather dismal, but tonight, filled with dancing couples, it looked like something out of a painting. The colourful dresses worn by the girls, the rich splendour of the Duchess and even Great-Aunt Lizzie’s finery showed up well against the black and white evening dress of the men. The original chandeliers that had been put in over a hundred years before had been carefully cleaned by Daisy and Nora under the supervision of Great-Aunt Lizzie and they glittered wonderfully. Morgan had spent much of the day carrying logs upstairs and feeding the fires in the two fireplaces so by now the long room was quite warm. The tall vases of daffodils and fluffy pussy willow catkins were in the coolest corners of the room well away from the fires. Rose had collected cushions from every room in the house and heaped them on to the four windowsills, which would do for seats when people got tired. Two of the jazz band had carried an old spindly-legged sofa down from the attic as well. Disguised with a gold-tasselled bedspread from the linen cupboard, it made an acceptable seat for a duchess.
Daisy was dancing with Justin. She had not imagined that he would ask her to dance while Violet was in the room, but he had. He had walked straight past Violet and come over to her and taken her hand saying, ‘Can you foxtrot?’
‘A bit,’ she answered, her eyes sliding over towards Violet who was pretending to gaze into the fire, leaning on the marble fireplace and looking pensive.
‘That’s a bit more than I can,’ he assured her, but they managed passably well. Although only Morgan and George were playing at the moment, the music was fast and the beat was strong. Poppy danced with Baz, and Simon, having been rejected by Violet, asked Great Aunt-Lizzie to dance. Michael Derrington did his best with the Duchess, and Rose, who was the best dancer in the family, danced Edwin into the ground, leaving him breathless. Justin laughed and blew Rose a kiss and Violet glared at him.
Daisy wondered if Violet would be nicer to Justin if she were able to inherit Beech Grove Manor and didn’t have to worry about marrying someone rich – he was awfully attractive.
‘Justin,’ she said, ‘you’ve studied law. Explain to me about this entail business. If ever I ask Father he just gets all upset and says I wouldn’t understand. Why can’t Violet inherit?’
‘Entail?’ He had been gazing at Violet and now looked at Daisy, startled.
‘Yes, entail. You must know what entail means. You’ve been studying the law for years.’
‘Oh, entail,’ said Justin vaguely. ‘Sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said. Yes, entail. It’s actually called fee tail, which comes from the Latin feodum talliatum and—’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, Justin,’ broke in Daisy impatiently, ‘I don’t want a lecture. Just explain in words of one syllable about the entail, or fee tail, or any other kind of tail, on the Beech Grove Estate.’
Justin took his eyes from Violet and looked down at Daisy with a glimmer of interest in his eyes. ‘Strictly speaking, that’s fee tail male.’
‘Yes, I know,’ said Daisy. ‘Come on, Justin. A lawyer should be able to explain things to an ordinary person like myself.’
‘You’ve obviously never been in court,’ said Justin with a grin.
‘Well, anyway,’ said Daisy, ‘pretend you’re not a lawyer. Pretend you’re a teacher. Just explain.’
‘Look,’ said Justin, ‘I can’t think straight while you are doing all those flips and shakes and twirls around. You’re making me dizzy. Let’s go and sit on the windowsill and then I’ll explain everything to you. It’s actually quite an interesting case, Beech Grove Manor, come to think of it.’
‘Oh good,’ said Daisy. She felt somewhat annoyed that Justin could not think and dance at the same time; she adored dancing and they had all been practising the latest dances just for this one splendid evening. Still, she did want to understand the position about Denis and about Violet. The sacrifices I make for that girl, she thought. Most of her time these days seemed to be spent in planning a brilliant future for Violet.
‘As I say, it’s an interesting case,’ Justin continued. ‘I remember looking it up when I was a student at Gray’s Inn in London. It has been going on for a long time, the estate mostly transferring from father to son until the time of your grandfather who decided to put a stop to it. He and your father agreed – and you do always need the heir’s agreement to something like this – well, they agreed that the entail would only last through two more generations: your father and his heir.’
‘Except that Father didn’t have a son . . .’
Justin nodded. ‘Exactly,’ he said. ‘He didn’t have a son so now the estate will be for this very distant relation – I believe they had to go right back through the family tree in order to find him.’
‘So after Father’s death Denis will inherit; and not only will there not be a penny for us, we won’t even have anywhere to live.’ Daisy sighed. ‘I see. Now let’s go back and finish the dance.’
‘You and your sisters don’t go to school, do you?’ asked Justin as they took their places again on the well-polished floor. For years, on wet days, the four girls had been skating on this floor with pads of sheepskin tied to their shoes – one of Great-Aunt Lizzie’s more imaginative ideas – and it had only needed a quick burnishing to get it right for the party.
‘No, thank goodness,’ said Daisy fervently. ‘Though Rose should. She is the clever one of the family.’
‘Oh, I don’t know – waste of time, school. Better than those dreary governesses though, I suppose.’
‘We didn’t even have one of these – not even when we had more money.’ She added in an undertone and with a quick glance over her shoulder, ‘Great-Aunt Lizzie fancies herself as a teacher – mainly because she was once told that she had the most beautiful handwriting in the world.’
‘I loathed Harrow,’ said Justin haughtily. ‘It was the wrong place for me. There was never any interest in boys who had original ideas.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Daisy said. She was enjoying this party; she had visualized it completely as a setting for Violet, but Poppy and Rose also seemed to be having a very good time.
‘Harrow was just a bore,’ said Justin disdainfully. ‘Of course I tried to have as much fun as I could. I’m really good at annoying people when I want to and all the masters used to get into fearful bates with me. I nearly got thrown out, once. Myself and another boy went through all of the books in the library and every time we came across one that
said in the Foreword: “This should be obligatory for all young people” – or something like that, well, we just used to write in the margin: “’Tis his only chance of selling a boring book like this.” We were sent up before the beak and were nearly sacked, but I argued that a school like Harrow existed to encourage independent thought in its pupils and this so confused him that in the end we both got off with having to write a hundred lines.’
‘Perhaps that’s why you decided to become a lawyer – you found arguing suited you,’ said Daisy, hoping this dance would go on a bit longer. If he asked her again she would have to turn him in the direction of Violet. It was, after all, Violet’s party and they could not risk the Duchess thinking that she was a wallflower. The jazz band was playing fairly quietly – she had told Morgan that while the Duchess was there the music had to be kept fairly soft.
‘Don’t think so,’ he said, frowning. ‘Actually, I just wanted to make money. I have three elder brothers and there was nothing left for me by the time I got to be eighteen. I could have gone to Oxford,’ he added, ‘but I decided that the sooner I got to be in a position to earn money the better it would be.’
‘And are you?’ Perhaps he might do for Violet after all.
‘I shortly hope to be offered a very well-paid position,’ he said loftily and then laughed quite suddenly. ‘As a matter of fact, Daisy, I’m down to my last fifty pounds in the bank and am going on a tour of relations so that I no longer have to pay for my lodgings. I’m doing quite well at it. In fact, the Duchess has just asked me to her house party in London in two weeks’ time. That should be good – high living, and I’ll be on the spot if there are any jobs going in the big London law firms.’
‘Why on earth did the Duchess ask you to a house party? She’s never met you before, has she?’
DEBUTANTES Page 7