“I never thought that when he talked so eagerly to me on the ship about Papa’s collection, which, of course, he had heard of, that he would come in so useful. He was astonished when I told him what I required.”
“But he agreed – ”
“At once and with enthusiasm.”
But all Alena could think about was that her prayers had been answered and, although perhaps God had helped them in a strange way, at least they did not have to sit around and do nothing.
“What are you going to do about this house now?” Alena asked him.
“I will give the two old dears who are looking after us enough money to make them fat and happy. We cannot do everything all at once and Dunstead Hall in the country will have to wait until we have found our millionaires.”
Alena wanted to ask him what would happen if the millionaires never turned up and then she told herself she must not think negatively.
She just had to believe that this desperate effort of Robin’s would succeed.
And that somehow by a miracle they could each be married not just to very rich spouses but to one who really loved them.
‘Please God, please make it happen,’ she prayed in her heart.
She continued praying as she went upstairs to pack the few clothes she was taking with her to London.
*
They set off very early the next morning, catching what was called the ‘milk train’, because it was the train on which the farmers sent their fresh milk up to the City.
They travelled by third class and Robin said firmly that it would be for the last time.
When they reached Paddington Station, they took a Hackney carriage to Dunstead House in Park Lane.
Robin opened the door and Alena entered nervously.
She found that the large hall with its long windows was not in as bad a condition as she had expected, although the Greek Gods in the alcoves were thick with dust.
The great fireplace had not been cleaned out since there had last been a fire in it.
In the huge chandelier hanging from the ceiling the candles had burnt themselves out leaving black grease.
But there was no real damage.
They walked silently from the hall into the study – the room the family always used when they were alone, as the vast drawing room and the reception rooms on the first floor were kept for formal parties.
When Alena had last seen the house, it had seemed to her surprisingly pretty.
But now the blue curtains needed cleaning and the white panelled walls were dirty but not badly cracked.
The shelf of the exquisitely carved mantelpiece had been covered with beautiful pieces of china, but there was nothing on it now, not even the old clock ornamented with Dresden porcelain that Alena recalled so well.
She supposed that they had all been sold.
The large collection of family miniatures was still hanging on one side of the fireplace.
Robin pulled back the curtains and opened up the shutters and now Alena could see the famous collection of snuffboxes – some of the more ornate and bejewelled ones were missing.
What was most important was that all the pictures were intact.
They were mostly by French artists like Boucher and Nicholas Lancets, each one priceless in itself and they seemed to smile at them.
Alena thought that they would still impress, as they always had, anyone who visited the house.
Robin was watching her and, as she turned to look at him, he enquired,
“Well, what is your verdict?”
“It might be a lot worse and it would not cost much to buy new curtains and covers.”
“I think you will say the same of the drawing room, Alena, but the ballroom is a real mess.”
They went to inspect it, but in fact Alena was not as despondent as her brother.
The walls needed repainting and much of the glass in the tall windows opening into the garden was broken, but, as she pointed out, the ceiling was intact and the dance floor undamaged.
“Again I can only say it might be worse, Robin.”
“Alright, Alena, we will carry out your orders here and I will see to the stables and more vital than anything else, the kitchen.”
“We cannot acquire the reputation of having a dirty kitchen!”
She was rather appalled when she saw it.
Obviously the last servants working in the kitchen when the Baronet was ill had done little or nothing but feed themselves.
The floor was filthy and the walls were almost as bad. Most of the chairs were broken and there seemed to be an extraordinary shortage of pots and pans.
“They must have been a slovenly set of servants,” Alena asserted sourly, “and I think they stole everything they could get away with.”
And this included the cutlery, although the Trustees had checked all the silver.
Robin looked round and commented,
“Now I am going to talk to a firm to undertake the restoration of the house. Luigi has given me the name of one he recommends. They were working on the last house he visited that belongs to someone most distinguished.”
He smiled before he added,
“Naturally he would not confide in me the name of his client any more than he would reveal mine.”
“That at least is honest and I only hope he does not blackmail you.”
“I don’t think it will be worth his while. His patron, the Duc, gives him any money he requires to purchase the pictures he is collecting for him and being an Italian I am sure a considerable amount of it goes into his own pocket.”
“Which is only fair – ”
“Exactly!”
He left Alena and she went into the dining room, a most impressive room that could seat fifty or sixty people without any difficulty.
The tables needed polishing and the fireplace was as dirty as the others, but the furniture was outstanding.
She knew that if the room was cleaned and properly lit, it would be as beautiful as it was when she was a child.
Alena had been sensible enough to bring some food with her and now she set it out on the table.
Then, on an impulse, she found a key in the pantry that she thought must belong to the cellar.
She went down the stone steps, remembering how frightening the cellar had seemed when she was small.
Her father had sometimes taken her with him when he was choosing which wine he would drink at dinner.
Now, as she opened the door, it was not surprising to see that the cellar appeared empty – there were only empty bins where the wine had once lain.
Then she remembered that there was another cellar further on – it was fitted with a special lock that her father had invented and did not require a key.
He had shown her how to work the lock, telling her that it was a deep secret so that the servants could not steal from him.
There was a good chance, Alena reckoned, that the lock was still effective.
She twisted the dial just as her father had shown her and to her delight the door opened.
When she looked inside, she saw that there was at least two dozen bottles each of claret, champagne and port.
She picked up one of the bottles of champagne and closed the door of the cellar behind her.
She hurried upstairs to the kitchen and as there was no ice, she stood the champagne in a bucket of cold water.
Then she waited for Robin to return.
It was approaching two o’clock before he appeared and by that time she was feeling hungry.
She heard him open the front door and ran into the hall.
“I thought you were lost!” she cried.
“I have come back with good news, my dear sister, and I am feeling ravenous.”
“Luncheon is now served, my Lord,” Alena intoned mockingly, “but before I tell you my news that will please you, I want to know what has happened.”
“I have arranged everything,” Robin replied, as he put down his hat on a chair. “The men will
be arriving at dawn tomorrow morning and they have promised me I will have their best workmen and everything will be done at express speed.”
“That is splendid news, Robin. Now because you have been a good boy, you shall have your reward. A glass of champagne!”
“Champagne! Where did it come from?”
“I remembered Papa’s secret way into the back of the cellar and there are sufficient bottles there to keep you happy until the show begins.”
Robin chuckled.
“The show is going to begin sooner than I expected. You must sit down tonight and write your invitations to the ball, which will take place in exactly two weeks time.”
Alena stared at him.
“Are you quite certain it is now possible?”
“Absolutely certain, Alena. The man I went to see knows this house. In fact he has worked here in the past. I told him that it was dilapidated as I had been abroad and, as I don’t want you to miss the Season, I would employ a firm that would work the quickest and make it possible for your ball to take place before the end of May.”
“And he agreed?”
“He jumped at it. I explained that the house was in a bad state because my father had been ill for over a year, and he understood. It was not because I could not afford to spend money on it.”
“Will he be very expensive?”
“I told him that if he was successful here, I had a house in the country that was in a far worse state, but I was not going to place it anyone’s hands until I had seen what he could do for me.”
“That was very astute of you, Robin.”
“He is going to do his best as cheaply as possible and that is exactly what we need.”
“I think you really do deserve a glass of champagne and I hope it will be cool enough.”
Alena ran to the kitchen to fetch it for him.
As she did so, she thought how fortunate they were and so far everything seemed to be going so smoothly and without too many difficulties.
Once again she was praying that God would help them and that nothing would go wrong.
‘Please, God, please,’ she murmured as she carried the champagne into the dining room, ‘make Robin happy. He is trying so very hard and it would break his heart if he failed.’
When luncheon was over, Alena did as Robin had told her.
She sat down at the writing table that her mother had always used and with the address book in front of her, she copied out the names and addresses of everyone in it.
There were a large number and when Robin came back, she asked him,
“Just how many invitations have you ordered to be printed? I have written nearly four hundred envelopes.”
“Five hundred actually and some will obviously be unable to come. Some may even be dead, but at least Society will know we have arrived and are back on the stage!”
Alena smiled at him.
“Very much so, Robin, and if the drama turns out as you expect, they will all want to come.”
“They will all come, but what we have to do is to make our party somehow unlike anyone else’s.”
“What do you mean, Robin?”
“Everyone gives a ball for a debutante, but you are different. You are prettier than the average boring girl and I want you to do something that people will find amusing, exciting and unusual and will always remember it.”
Alena threw up her hands.
“You are asking far too much. What can I do short of walking in on my hands on the ceiling?”
“I have thought of that, but it’s not good enough! We must think of something that no one has done before and which will be the talk not only of London but of other countries, including America.”
“If you are still contemplating an American,” Alena stated, “I can tell you here and now I have no intention of marrying an American!”
He did not say anything, so she continued,
“There were two American girls at the school in Florence, and I thought that their brothers, when they called to see them, were very boring and did not seem in the least significant. Also the stories the girls told of what goes on in New York made me very glad I am British!”
“Of course it did, Alena, but sadly the British at the moment are not particularly famous for their wealth, while American riches are increasing year by year.”
He made a gesture with his hands.
“It was only just a few days ago that yet more oil wells were found in Dallas and the Yanks are indeed miles ahead of us British in their invention of new machinery, mechanical instruments and photography.”
“I suppose you are right, Robin, but that does not make their people more attractive.”
“Give them a chance. They are a young nation and that is why they have been clever enough to learn from us. Sooner or later they will not only produce what we need, but they will become more civilised in our eyes.”
It was quite a speech and Alena clapped her hands.
“Then three cheers for the USA!” she cried, “but you must forgive me if I prefer England and the English gentleman.”
“In which case I only hope he has something in his pocket,” Robin added sarcastically. “If you let him marry you thinking that you hold the cash, I have a feeling your marriage will not be as blissful as you hope.”
Alena did not answer him, as there was nothing she could say.
She knew that, if she deceived an Englishman by pretending to be a rich woman when she was penniless, he would never forgive her.
Therefore, unless she could meet someone who was different in every way, she would have to do what Robin had told her to do – and that was to marry an American or perhaps a wealthy European.
Then she remembered that the French and Italians, if they were anyone of importance, always had arranged marriages and she had heard her friends at school talking about it.
One of them had remarked wistfully,
“I hope I will be able to choose my own husband, but Papa already has someone in mind whose family is just as aristocratic as ours and who thus will have his marriage arranged for him as soon as he becomes of age.”
“Surely it must be so frightening,” Alena had said, “to have to marry someone because your father approves of him while you may think him horrible!”
The girl she was talking to had smiled.
“Papa loves me and I love him, so I know he will not choose someone who is repulsive. At the same time, as our family goes back to the twelfth century, I can hardly have a husband who cannot also boast of his blue blood.”
Alena had no answer to this, but she thought then, as she believed now that to marry any man without love, whoever he was, was wrong.
Yet she had to tell herself she had no alternative.
As Robin had said, they either had to sit down and starve or find someone who could keep them in the manner their father and mother had been accustomed to before all the money was spent.
As if he knew what she was thinking, he bent down and kissed her.
“Do stop worrying, dearest, luck is on our side and, who knows, the God of Love himself – Apollo – may drop down from Heaven and ask you to be his wife!”
CHAPTER THREE
Alena cooked breakfast for her brother and he then rushed off saying he had an idea about the servants.
“I was thinking of going to the Agency,” Alena had said.
“You can go this afternoon if I fail, but I have an idea that I know will please you if it comes off.”
He would not say anymore to her, but left his sister curious as he hurried out of the house.
Already the men from the firm Robin had engaged to begin the restoration of the house had arrived.
Alena insisted that they worked on the kitchen first.
“I absolutely refuse,” she thundered, “to cook any more in that dirty place. It only wants soap and water to make it usable even if it’s not very pretty.”
“It must all be renovated properly,” Robin agreed, “otherwise the servan
ts we employ will not think it good enough for them.”
Alena laughed.
“I will believe it when I see it. At present the only person you have to do everything is me.”
“And you do it very well,” he conceded, “but I have other ideas where you are concerned.”
He hurried away and she smiled as she washed up the cups and plates they had used for breakfast.
Then she went into the study and sat down again at her mother’s writing table.
First she took a long look at St. George killing the dragon and told him that he should help her in her task that was just as difficult as his.
Robin had not yet decided the exact date of the ball, so there was no point in her writing out the invitations that anyway ought to be printed or typed.
“I think actually,” he had said, “it might be more effective in the case of Mama’s friends if you put a little note inside. They would then feel obliged to help as Mama is dead – and sympathy and cooperation is something we need very badly at this moment.”
“Very well, I will do as you suggest,” she agreed.
She thought when he left her that what she could do now was to write the same letter to everyone in Robin’s name, explaining that he was giving the ball for his sister Alena, ‘as, having been in mourning and in the country for so long, I want her to meet her parents’ old friends.’
‘I think that will sound rather pathetic,’ Alena said to herself as she wrote out the letter for Robin to approve. ‘We certainly need all the kindness we can get!’
It was nearly one o’clock when Robin came back.
He burst into the room telling her before he spoke that he brought exciting news.
“I have done it! I have done it!” he cried. “And I know you will be delighted, Alena.”
“Done what?”
“I have engaged Burley to come back as butler!”
Alena looked at him blankly.
“Burley?”
“You surely must remember him. He was with us as a footman for years. He became the butler when Papa was taken ill and stayed until the Solicitors sacked him.”
“Oh, of course!” Alena exclaimed. “But I did not remember his name.”
“I suddenly recalled when I asked about him that he had gone on to White’s Club. I went there this morning to find he was one of the Stewards.”
Money or Love Page 4