Violet and one of the maids filled the crystal goblets with white wine, while another poured the water into silver beakers.
Natalie was seated on James’s right. When the food had been served, she touched his arm. She said, ‘I’m going to Hull on Friday. I wondered if you could come up. I have an idea.’
‘What do you mean?’ he interrupted, staring at her intently.
‘Have you ever thought about Hull? As a way to start out, I mean. With a little shop, a beginning …’
He was startled and, for a moment, he couldn’t answer. Then he shook his head. ‘Aren’t you the one? Looking out for me all the time—’
‘As you do for me,’ she cut in.
‘Because you deserve it, Natalie. With Alexis gone to darkest Kent, you’ve really managed to fill the gap. Even more than that. I appreciate your efforts, and so does Mr Malvern.’ He let out a deep sigh and a sudden look of sadness crept onto his face.
‘Let’s not go there this evening,’ Natalie whispered softly. ‘Anyway, I want to tell you something else. I’m going to create … a posse … for you.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t understand you.’
‘A sort of … team, but let’s say no more for the moment. And I think you should tell my aunt about … your dream.’
‘Why?’ He shook his head. ‘She wouldn’t be interested.’
‘Yes, she would. She’s a great believer in ambition, drive, and determination – all that motivates you. Tell her you enjoyed the book she gave you. She’s got another one for you, I think. So go on, speak to her, James. Aunt Cheska can be useful.’
As the first course was cleared, she engaged Sandro by saying, ‘James says he feels he can walk right into your gardens. He’s very impressed by your talent, which I call your “genius”.’
Her brother laughed. ‘You’re the best flatterer I’ve ever met, my sweet girl. Anyway, it was nice of him.’ Leaning closer, he asked in a low tone, ‘Are you interested in Peter Keller? You can confide in me. I’ll keep it a secret.’
Natalie gave him a long, cool stare. ‘I think he’s a little shy. Inviting him tonight was a way to get him into my orbit. I needed him to see me out of the office and in a different light. I hope he has.’
‘I know it. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you, although I must say he’s been rather discreet, not too obvious. You’d better make the first move, though, or it might never happen.’
‘I’ve thought of doing that. On the other hand, I don’t want to look pushy, or like some of those predatory women we both know.’
‘You can do it in your lovely ladylike manner. He won’t take offence or misunderstand you. Actually he might be glad – relieved – if you make the first move. I can guarantee that he is interested in you; I think he just doesn’t know how to go from here. A lot of men I know are a bit afraid of rejection.’
‘Yes, I realize that. Maybe I’ll take Aunt Cheska into my confidence …’ Natalie broke off and bit her lip; gazing at her brother, she dropped her voice as she abruptly changed the subject. ‘Don’t you think Michael has been away rather a long time? His trips to New York have always been fast – two to three weeks and then back here. He once told me it was like a quick skip and a jump. And he always seemed glad to be back.’
‘You’re right.’ Her brother frowned and straightened a spoon in front of him. ‘They haven’t been getting along, from what I understand.’
‘Oh no!’ she stared at Sandro. ‘How do you know?’
‘I picked up on one or two things.’
Natalie looked across at her aunt, who was deep in conversation now with James Falconer. Surely her aunt’s long marriage was not in danger?
It was a jolly evening. Everyone appeared to get on well, enjoying the company and the delicious food. James relaxed and, as he talked to Natalie and glanced across the table, he reflected how his life had changed. Only five years ago he had still been working on the market. Now, he was dining with the descendants of the Russian ambassador.
TEN
Although he liked to converse and exchange ideas and viewpoints at social gatherings, James Falconer was also an observer by nature.
Now, after the lovely supper, he sat in a chair near the French doors in the drawing room, enjoying his surroundings. And watching the other people present. Discreetly.
Coffee, tea, lemonade, cognac and water had been offered. He had taken a silver beaker of water, always wanting to be absolutely in control of himself. He rarely drank more than a glass of liquor or wine.
As he sipped the water, James focused his attention on Aubrey Williamson, standing at the other end of the drawing room, thinking again what a good-looking man he was. He was certainly dressed in the height of current style. The black suit he wore was so impeccably cut it could only have come from one of the great tailors of Savile Row. In his mind’s eye, James could easily imagine Williamson in his flowing black gown and grey-whitish wig, holding forth in a court of law. Commander of all he surveyed, no doubt.
Francesca Lorne had told him quietly, during supper, that he was a much sought-after barrister, and that prosecutors were loath to confront him when he was defending a client. Williamson rarely lost a case. Francesca had chuckled then, and explained that the name of his firm was Saunders, Thompson and Browning and that the initials spelled stab. Which he was prone to do. Verbally.
James had laughed with her and paid attention to him for the rest of the meal, catching everything Williamson did and said when he could do so politely. The man had great charisma, an outgoing personality, and was extremely eloquent as well. No wonder he won so many cases.
Williamson’s wife was an elegant woman, and quite pretty in a cool, blonde way. She smiled a lot, nodded and joined in when engaged by her dinner partners, Peter Keller and Sandro. But she was obviously in total awe of her husband. James could see that; he noticed her deference. He was fascinated by the blend of personalities here – different, he knew, to the aristocratic visitors at the house in which his grandparents worked.
‘Can I join you?’ Irina asked, walking up behind his chair.
‘Of course!’ James exclaimed, jumping up, delighted to see her.
She laughed as she sat down.
‘I looked around for you,’ he explained, lowering himself into the chair. ‘But you had disappeared.’
‘I went to see Cook to thank her for the superb food, and especially the crab.’
‘That was very nice of you,’ James said, placing the beaker he was still holding on a small side table.
‘Great cooks are hard to find,’ Irina said. ‘And Mrs Milligan has been very loyal and devoted to Aunt Cheska. But then my aunt is not a difficult woman. She also installed a gas range years ago. Those charcoal-fuelled stoves kill cooks. Their fumes are perilous. All cooks hate them.’
James exclaimed, ‘Naturally they do! My grandmother is the head housekeeper for Lady Agatha Montague and she insisted those gas stoves be installed in all the Montague homes. I’m sure you know that the charcoal fumes cause lung disease.’
‘Aunt Cheska was aware of it. And aside from saving lives, the gas stoves are cheaper and cleaner.’ Irina leaned closer to James and said, ‘To change the subject, I promised to explain the Shuvalovs to you.’
He nodded, his smile warm. ‘I would love to hear about them.’
‘They were … well, I suppose I should say they were like landed gentry back in Russia, but basically, they were a family who were loyal and devoted to the Romanovs. They were diplomats and ministers at the Romanov court through many generations. They were very taken with the English – Anglophiles – and many of the boys were sent to Eton. That’s how they knew the language. My great-grandfather Konstantin was an ambassador here for many years. So my grandfather Nicholas came with his parents in 1850 and grew up here.’
‘So your grandfather is still alive?’
‘Oh yes, and so is my grandmother. Anastasia is her name. They are the parents of my mother and her siste
r Olga. But my aunt is living in Russia at the moment. They were born here. My grandfather only ever went back to Russia for visits. On the surface, he became very much the traditional Englishman.’ She laughed. ‘At least, I think that he is. He’s Russian deep down, of course. He’s a lovely man, and he was rather successful … in publishing. And that’s all of it, more or less.’
Her laughter echoed once more. It was light, lilting, and James felt drawn to her. There was something entrancing about Irina, who he knew was twenty-two. The bloom is on the rose, he couldn’t help thinking as he sat gazing at her, her translucent eyes holding his.
A moment later Natalie joined them, bringing Peter Keller with her. James immediately stood up, offering his chair to Natalie. Thanking him, she sat down and announced, ‘Our colleague Keller will be part of your posse—’
‘I still don’t quite know what you mean by that,’ James exclaimed, cutting across her.
‘It means team, group … supportive friends. And we’ll help you with your first shop.’
‘I don’t have one,’ James shot back swiftly.
‘You’ll have one sooner than you think, I suspect,’ Natalie assured him.
Peter Keller, grinning, interrupted. He said, ‘I asked the driver to come back at ten o’clock. I think he might be outside. We have to go, I’m afraid.’
When they went outside, both James and Keller were surprised how bright it was, almost like daylight. The lamplighter had been around, attending to the gas lamps in the street. There was a full moon riding high in the star-littered sky that was as black as ink. It was this summer moon that gave the evening its beauty and brilliance.
‘What a sight!’ Keller exclaimed, turning to James as they walked down the front steps of the house into the street. ‘And such a gorgeous evening.’
‘It is indeed,’ James agreed, glancing up at the golden orb, and then looking at Peter pointedly. ‘Did you invite Natalie to have supper with you? Or accompany you to the theatre?’
‘No, I didn’t really get a chance,’ Keller answered, as he walked towards the carriage.
The driver was standing by the horses and tipped his cap. ‘Evening, guv’nors,’ he said to Keller and James, and they both greeted him in return.
Once they were settled in the carriage, the driver mounted his seat and set off at a slow pace down the side street. When they were on the wider road, he increased his speed, heading towards Mayfair.
It was James who broke the silence when he looked at Keller, a reflective expression on his face. ‘I’m going to speak to Natalie tomorrow and invite them all to supper, at a restaurant. And that includes you. By all, I mean her sister Irina, Aunt Cheska and her husband, if he’s returned from America. It will be reciprocation for tonight’s lovely do, and you’ll be in Natalie’s company once again – socially, I mean. I know you occasionally run into her at the office, but that doesn’t mean a thing. I know she likes you, and I’m going to bring the two of you together.’
When Keller did not respond, James probed, ‘Aren’t you glad I’m doing this? Or shall I stop interfering in your business with Natalie?’
Keller laughed. ‘I don’t have any business with Natalie – at least not yet. But with your help, perhaps I just might.’
ELEVEN
As the carriage turned into the long, tree-lined avenue which led up to Courtland Priory, Alexis Malvern opened her reticule and took out Claudia’s note again. She reread the most worrying line: I have a problem that totally overwhelms me. I need your help. Please come to Courtland earlier than planned. I beg you. Love, Claudia.
All the way here she had worried and wondered what had befallen her dearest friend, the woman who had introduced her to Sebastian in the first place. She had asked Yates, the driver of Claudia’s carriage, if everything was all right at the house. He had said it was.
‘We’re almost there, Miss Alexis,’ Tilda said, interrupting her thoughts.
Alexis looked across the carriage at her maid. ‘Thank you, Tilda, for managing to get the rest of the packing done so quickly.’
‘Since we were coming here for a week anyway, I had done most of it, Miss Alexis,’ Tilda responded. ‘I like this place.’
‘I know you do. It’s much more interesting than Kent. I realize how dull it is there for you.’
Tilda simply nodded, not wanting to upset her employer. But Miss Malvern was right. There was much more going on at this great stately home which belonged to the Trevalian family. It was a huge house on a great estate, one of the grandest houses in England.
Servants galore and guests most weekends. Claudia – or, more correctly, Mrs Cornelius Glendenning – owned it now. She had inherited it from her father in his will. She had been trained to become the chatelaine years ago, after her mother had died, one of the cooks had told Tilda.
The maid thought of it as a fun spot to be, with plenty of footmen and male servants to flirt with. She usually enjoyed her visits with Miss Malvern.
The tree-lined avenue led into the cobbled courtyard of this truly beautiful house, Palladian in style. It was on a slight rise above green lawns which rolled down to a large artificial pond. Reflected in this pond was an image of the house. Not far from the house were the ruins of a priory. Monks had lived there centuries before. It was from this priory that Courtland, which had been built in the 1700s by early Trevalians, took its name. Nearby the priory was the village of Courtland, built for those who worked at the house. It was a charming little village, with a schoolhouse, a church and even a post office for the area. The villagers kept it pristine and pretty with flower-filled gardens.
Even before the carriage came to a halt, Claudia was out on the front steps, waiting anxiously for Alexis. She ran forward to greet her friend as Alexis alighted with the help of Yates, the driver. Tilda stepped out after her and followed the two women, who had linked arms affectionately, into the entrance hall.
Turning to Tilda, Claudia said, ‘Miss Malvern has her usual room, Tilda, and you have yours on the floor above. No changes.’
Tilda smiled, thanked her, did a small bob, and looked at Alexis. ‘Shall I go upstairs now, Miss Alexis, and wait for the luggage?’
Alexis nodded. ‘And I’m sure Cook will have a little something for you in the kitchen, if you’re feeling hungry.’
‘Yes, of course she does,’ Claudia said. She then glanced at Alexis. ‘I’m certain you need to freshen up. I’ll wait for you in the conservatory.’
‘I won’t be long,’ Alexis reassured her, and hurried towards the wide staircase which led to the bedroom floors.
Claudia made her way to the conservatory which opened onto the gardens. It was a lovely sunny June day, and brilliant light flowed into the windowed room, where a collection of flowering plants brought a sense of the outside indoors.
It was a comfortable room, with cream-coloured sofas and chairs and a flagged floor of terracotta tiles. On a table was a collection of the latest magazines and novels, and set against the one interior wall was a small mahogany desk that her father had put there years ago. He had liked to do paperwork in the conservatory in the summer, and so did she. Like father, like daughter, she thought.
Walking over to the sofa, Claudia sat down, smoothed the silk skirt of her long lime-green dress, thinking once again how relieved she was that crinolines were not so popular these days. They were rarely worn now, except for a dance or a ball. Madame Valance, who was still her favourite couturière, had led the way, pronouncing the crinoline outdated.
‘Here I am,’ Alexis exclaimed, hurrying into the room. She had shed her hat and her travelling coat and was wearing a light day dress, made from a muted mauve colour that was often chosen for half-mourning, but which did little for her complexion.
Claudia stood up and went towards her best friend, pushing aside a thought about Alexis’s appearance. Her friend had put on weight, and was showing none of her usual elegance. The two women embraced for a few seconds, and then they stepped apart. They stared at eac
h other intently.
It was Alexis who spoke first. ‘I’ve been so worried since Yates arrived yesterday afternoon. There was no way we could leave immediately. I’m sorry, but Tilda was still packing for the week I’ll be here.’
‘I knew that you wouldn’t be able to join me until today. Anyway, Yates did need to stay the night. Two trips would have been too much for him in one day.’
‘Tell me what’s happened, Claudia darling. Why are you so troubled … there’s nothing wrong between Connie and you, is there?’
‘No, not at all. In fact, this is not about me, but someone else. Let’s go outside for a few minutes, and then we’ll have afternoon tea. You must be hungry after the long trip.’
‘No, I’m fine at the moment,’ Alexis assured her.
Claudia opened the French doors and they went outside, following the gravel path that led towards the main lawn. Taking hold of Claudia’s hand, Alexis asked, ‘Why did you want to come outside?’
‘Privacy. There’s no one here … we can’t be overheard.’
Frowning, Alexis stared at her. ‘Whatever is it? You sound so very troubled.’
‘I am.’ Biting her lip, frowning, looking as if she was on the verge of tears, Claudia leaned into her friend. In a voice that was low, shaky, she said, ‘I am certain that … that … Marietta is … expecting a child.’
‘Oh no! Oh my God! How can that be?’ Alexis was dumbstruck, stood there shaking her head at this shocking news about Claudia and Lavinia’s younger sister. ‘When has she been around any men? Why do you think she’s got herself into trouble?’
‘Lavinia told me last night that she has heard Marietta vomiting. Morning sickness, Lavinia suggested. And I have noticed a change in her body. She’s put on a bit of weight, but it’s mostly her breasts. They look enlarged to me, and also to Lavinia.’
‘Has Lavinia confronted her? Have you?’
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