Looking intently at Alice and then at Cecily, Alicia said, “I just wish my parents had been able to come. Especially my mother. She was always so close to Aunt Charlotte.”
“I know,” Alice responded. “And I agree with you. It was Charlotte who saved her life, who supported her through some difficult times—”
“And as you did, too, Mother,” Cecily cut in swiftly. “I haven’t forgotten what you did. You hardly ever left her side when she was … ill that time.”
Alice smiled at her daughter, nodded, then went on quickly, “Because of her closeness to Charlotte, I can only think that Lady Daphne was genuinely far too upset to travel, as Mr. Hugo said.”
There was a moment of silence. Alicia glanced at Cecily and threw her a knowing look. “Unless my mother is actually ill. By that I mean with some sort of real illness. I noticed things last year, before she went to Zurich with my father.”
“What things?” Cecily asked, looking surprised and frowning.
“Sometimes I noticed that her hands trembled. And she could be forgetful. I’d ask her about a date we’d made, and she seemed surprised. I could tell she was trying to remember, sorting through her mind, I thought.”
“You’re not suggesting she has the onset of dementia, are you?” Alice Swann asked, sounding alarmed, staring at Alicia. “Please don’t tell me that.”
“I am telling you the truth about my mother’s behavior, Mrs. Alice. But I’m not for a moment suggesting dementia, or Parkinson’s disease for that matter. Frankly, I just don’t know why she behaved like that. Charlie and I have discussed it several times and he thinks she was, very simply, truly stressed and exhausted when they left last July.”
“I hope to God you’re right!” Cecily exclaimed and sat back in her chair, a worried expression on her face.
Alice looked reflective for a few moments, and then she turned to Alicia. “I know how busy you are, preparing for the new film, but do you think perhaps you and Charlie should go and see your parents in Zurich? If only for a day? Find out for yourselves if Lady Daphne is genuinely ill. Might it not put your minds at rest?”
“I could go, I suppose, if Charlie is free. I wouldn’t want to go without him.”
Cecily said, “But what about Thomas and Andrew? I thought the twins went to see your parents all the time. Haven’t they said anything about your mother’s health?”
“They say she’s all right, just tired, glad to be in Zurich. And away from Cavendon. But they’re not a reliable source of information.” Alicia made a moue and finished, “Remember, they work for our father, run the London end of his company. They’ll say what he tells them to say.”
At this moment, Miles came in with Cecily’s father, Walter Swann, along with Miles’s eldest son and heir, David, and his younger brother, Walter. David, who was now twenty, had come home from Oxford for the funeral, as had eighteen-year-old Walter, who had just started at the university.
After greeting everyone, Miles said, “Let’s go to the dining room. I saw most of the others lingering in the great hall, talking with Diedre, Robin, and Will.”
Alicia fell in with her family as they left the sitting room, so glad to be alone with them. And she realized, at that precise moment, how much she had always been aware of Adam’s presence, monitoring what he did and said.
Once they were all seated, and Eric had poured the white wine, Miles raised his glass and said, “As we start our week of mourning for Aunt Charlotte, I want to say how pleased I am that this rule was made so long ago. Because it gives us a chance to comfort each other for a few days, come to grips with our sorrow, and remember Charlotte with love in our hearts. And then we can go back to our normal lives surrounded by that love of family, and we can be at peace.”
They all lifted their glasses, and Gwen said, “Can I toast with my water, Daddy?”
Smothering the laughter bubbling, Miles said, “Of course you can, Gwen. That’s most suitable.” He looked at her intently and added, “And you’re certainly not getting any white wine, so you can forget about that.”
The whole table laughed, and noticing that Gwen looked somewhat disappointed, Diedre, who was sitting next to her niece, asked, “How is your little cat, darling?”
Gwen beamed at Diedre. “She is better. When she sees the vet tomorrow I’m sure he’ll pronounce her fit. I’ve looked after her very well, Aunt Diedre.”
Cecily said, “Yes, you have.” Then she promptly changed the subject, started to speak about the turnout for the funeral yesterday, and what a tribute it had been to Aunt Charlotte.
Alicia was seated between Will Lawson, Diedre’s husband, and her younger brother Andrew. After chatting to both of them through the first course of smoked salmon, she fell silent.
Lost for a while in her many whirling thoughts, she responded when spoken to, but for the main part Alicia remained the observer. Eventually, as her eyes went around the table, she saw her family in a different way today. She was looking at them through extremely objective and critical eyes.
There was nothing much to criticize and so much to admire, she decided. As her eyes settled on Cecily’s father, Walter, for a split second, she saw Harry in him. And also in his namesake and grandson, Cecily’s eighteen-year-old. She smiled inwardly when her eyes settled on her favorite, her brother Charlie.
Although she knew there was a deep sadness inside him, he was being his usual cheerful self, chatting to every member of the family who was seated near him.
He looked good, she thought, rather handsome, in fact, with his soft wavy hair and sparkling eyes. He was wearing a black blazer and a white turtleneck sweater, a favorite ensemble of his. She often teased him about it, saying he looked like a German U-boat commander, and he always had the good grace to laugh.
Her eyes suddenly went to each of the men at the table in turn. Instantly she noticed they were simply dressed in their old tweed jackets and sports coats, some with woolen ties. Miles was dressed in a pale blue shirt with a darker blue silk ascot tied around his neck, and a navy blazer. There was nothing pretentious or slick about any of them.
Alicia suddenly remembered a remark Diedre had made on Friday night, a remark she had accidentally overheard. Now she made up her mind to ask her aunt about that remark, and her opinion of Adam Fennell later. After lunch.
Thirty-nine
Alicia caught up with Lady Diedre as she walked across the great hall with Gwen, holding the child’s hand, half bending, listening attentively to what she was saying.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Aunt Diedre, but I do need to speak with you, and rather urgently. If you’re busy with Gwen, could we make a time for later, please?”
Turning around, Diedre saw the worried expression in Alicia’s eyes, and she instantly looked down at Gwen and said, “Do you mind if I join you in the staff dining room in a few minutes, Gwen darling?”
“That’s all right, Aunt Diedre.” Looking up at Alicia, Gwen asked, “Will you come, too? To see Cleopatra, now that she’s so much improved.”
“’Course I will, darling,” Alicia agreed. “Fifteen minutes and then we’ll both come down, won’t we?” She looked at Diedre, who nodded in agreement.
“Are you all right, Alicia?” Diedre asked once the child had walked on, her eyes riveted on her other niece. “What’s this about?”
“I am all right, never better, actually. But I do need to make some decisions that are important and need your advice. And I really will come down to see the cat,” Alicia finished, and grinned.
Diedre smiled. “Well, where shall we go to be really private? The others have gone to the blue-and-white sitting room for coffee, as you know. But that doesn’t mean Miles won’t walk into the library if he needs something.”
“Would you mind coming up to my bedroom, Aunt Diedre? We can chat there.”
“Good idea, come on then, darling.” As she finished speaking, Lady Diedre headed for the staircase and the South Wing.
As she followed her aunt up the
stairs, Alicia couldn’t help thinking what great legs Diedre had and a wonderful figure. Not bad for fifty-six, she thought admiringly.
Once they were seated in the two armchairs in front of the fire in Alicia’s bedroom, Diedre said, “All right, let’s get down to brass tacks. Why do you need my advice?”
“I’ll get to that in a moment. First, I want to ask you a question. I heard you make a remark to Uncle Will on Friday. It was something about all Brylcreem and cologne and not much else. I wasn’t eavesdropping. I simply accidentally heard it. Were you speaking about Adam?”
For a moment, Diedre considered lying, saying it wasn’t about Fennell, then instantly changed her mind. It was her duty, as an older family member, to tell Alicia the truth, especially since it was about that ghastly man.
“You’re correct, Alicia. I was referring to Adam Fennell. ‘Brylcreem and cologne,’ indeed. In other words, he’s an empty suit. There’s not much else there.”
“I’ve always known instinctively that you didn’t take to him, that you don’t like him,” Alicia murmured, sitting back in the chair.
“No, I don’t, and neither does Will. He thinks he’s slick, an opportunist, and he’s asked me several times to tell you to be careful, not to rush into marriage. Very simply, Fennell’s not good enough for you. I would also question his character.”
“Thank you for being so honest with me, Aunt Diedre. He’s begun to irritate me a lot, and he is erratic—”
“In what way?” Diedre interrupted, a brow lifting as she sat up straighter, very alert.
“He seems to be in control most of the time, and then he goes off in an erratic way, gets flustered. It’s usually to do with his business. The financial part, losing a backer, or something like that. Anyway, to get to the point, I’m going to break off with him.”
Diedre let out a huge sigh of relief. “I’m so pleased to hear that and I know Will’s going to applaud this decision on your part.”
Diedre sat staring into the fire for a few seconds, and then turned to Alicia, took hold of her hand. “There’s so much at stake here, Alicia. Your whole life actually. You can’t get stuck with a man like that. And you certainly don’t need the hassle of getting a divorce and all that entails.”
“No, I don’t. I must admit I’ve only myself to blame. At first I was very taken with him; there was an enormous sexual pull—”
Alicia broke off, shrugged. “It was intense for both of us—” Again she stopped, shaking her head. “I’m not sure how to explain that overwhelming attraction.”
“You don’t have to, Alicia. I’ve experienced that myself,” Diedre replied. “And many years ago, just before the war, your aunt DeLacy became involved with a man called Peter Musgrove, who was similar to Adam Fennell. Film-star looks, snappy dresser, a bit of a dandy. I couldn’t stand him, but she was enamored of him. At the time, I believed it was that same sexual pull you’re talking about now.”
“And what happened to this man Aunt DeLacy was so attracted to?”
“She managed to extricate herself. Eventually. And then he was called up, went off to fight in the war. The thing is, Musgrove was from a very good family, went to Eton, all that stuff. He also helped DeLacy with the gallery. He was a great art dealer himself, sent her clients. But—” Diedre paused again, staring into the flames. She finally looked at Alicia and said, “He was common. As common as muck, a phrase often used around these parts by the locals.”
“Is that what you think about Adam Fennell?”
“I do. Common as muck, whatever his background, and wherever he comes from. You’ve made the right decision. Now, do you need my advice about something else?”
“I do, Aunt Diedre. Do you think Charlie and I should go to Zurich? To see our parents? To find out exactly what’s going on, especially with our mother?”
“I do think it’s a good idea. I’ve rung up your father several times in the last six months, and made it seem normal, just asking if Will and I could go and stay with them for a weekend. Hugo put me off by saying Daphne’s still shattered about what he calls ‘the mess at Cavendon.’”
Diedre took a deep breath, blew out air, then shook her head. “It’s like talking to a brick wall. You know as well as I do that your father blocks the way, hates my interference.”
“When Charlie or I have asked the twins what’s happening, they say everything’s fine, but they’re like trained seals, you know.”
Alicia said this in such a droll way, Diedre couldn’t help laughing. After a moment, clearing her throat, she said, “If you decide to go, don’t tell them you’re coming.”
“We won’t.” Alicia stood up. “Shall we go and see Gwen’s cat, as we promised?”
“Oh yes, we’d better do that. Otherwise we’ll never hear the end of it. If ever there was a true Ingham warrior woman, it’s Gwendolyn. Our nine-year-old has a rod of steel up her spine like the rest of us.”
* * *
Later that day, just before dinner, Alicia went along the bedroom corridor in the South Wing and knocked on Charlie’s door, calling, “It’s moi.”
A moment later, he flung the door open, pulled Alicia into his arms, and hugged her tightly. “I’m so happy one of our ancestors had this idea about a week of mourning. It really helps to be with kith and kin, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed it does,” Alicia said, following Charlie into his bedroom. She saw that except for his jacket he was ready to go down to dinner, as she was. “I came up to tell you something,” she began, and then hesitated, before saying in a firm tone, “I’ve decided to break off with Adam. I’ve realized I don’t want to marry him … that it won’t work.”
She sat down in a chair. Momentarily taken aback, Charlie stood staring at her.
“I’m surprised. And yet I’m not,” he said after a long, thoughtful pause. “I like Adam, he’s got a certain charm, and he’s well mannered. And rather clever in the film business. But in the last few days here, there were moments when I got an odd feeling about him…” Charlie let his sentence trickle away.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought that buried under all that charisma and bonhomie there might be a bit of a temper, and, occasionally, I wondered if his mind had drifted off somewhere. It was like he wasn’t paying attention to me when I was speaking, that he wasn’t focused.”
“All true. You know we had this hot-hot-hot love affair. But all that … stuff has begun to wane. I am going to tell him next week when we’re back in London. After that, I think we should go to Zurich to see what’s going on with our mother. I’ve been speaking to Aunt Diedre. She agrees.”
Charlie said, “What exactly did she say?”
Alicia told him, and then repeated Diedre’s opinion of Adam Fennell.
“I certainly trust her judgment about anybody. After her long career at the War Office.”
“You will go to Zurich with me, won’t you, Charlie?”
“Nothing could stop me. Of course I will.”
Forty
In his usual precise and efficient way, Adam Fennell had made special plans for his supper with Alicia. Her week of mourning had finished, and she had returned to London last night.
Since it was Friday, and needing to be totally alone with her, he gave his staff the weekend off, telling them they could leave at five in the afternoon. His housekeeper had assured him there were plenty of cold dishes in the refrigerator which he would enjoy if he was hungry.
He had come home very early from his office, showered, and changed into fresh clothes as usual. Now he sat at the desk in his library, thinking about their reunion. He had been angry with himself at different times this past week. How dumb he had been to quarrel with Alicia. And to lose his temper. That most especially had been ridiculous on his part. Control. I mustn’t lose my control. Not ever with her.
At the back of his head, he heard Jack Trotter’s voice: Play it nice, lad. Always nice. Tantrums never work.
And that was what he had done all week
. He had sent her flowers. Phoned her every day. His manner had gone from apologetic and contrite to warm and tender.
She had responded in a lovely way, had been nice as always. And it was she who had suggested that they meet tonight; she who had suggested their rendezvous should be early. Five o’clock.
Now he smiled at himself, full of confidence and self-assurance. He had managed to make everything all right. And she obviously couldn’t wait to see him. He also knew that within minutes of greeting her warmly, he could lure her into his bed.
Once there, she would be his. He would have complete control of her. He knew how to arouse her, how to tease her, how to withhold what she wanted until she was crying out, eagerly, begging him for it. Ah yes, Rosie, the barmaid at the Golden Horn, had taught him well. And so had Jack Trotter. The buzzing in his head started all over again. He wished it would go away.
Stay calm, he told himself. Stay calm. Be controlled. Don’t become erratic. Keep your temper. He took a deep breath, went across the hall into his bedroom, entered his dressing room, stared at himself in the mirror.
And smiled. He looked the best he had ever looked. She would not be able to resist him.
A few minutes later the bell rang, and he hurried through the hall, opened the front door, a smile on his face.
“Hello, Adam,” Alicia said, smiling back. “I’m afraid I’m a little earlier than I said I would be.”
“The earlier the better, darling,” he replied, taking her arm, drawing her into the flat.
As he did so he could not help noticing that she was wearing a tailored skirt and jacket and a silk blouse, not one of the clinging dresses he loved on her.
Then he reminded himself she had several of those here. And she wouldn’t be needing clothes anyway. He bit back a smile, thinking of the weekend ahead of him.
Adam pulled her into his arms in the middle of the foyer and kissed her on the lips. After a moment she gently drew away from him, and said, “Adam, can we go into the library for a moment or two? I need to speak with you about something rather important.”
Secrets of Cavendon Page 30