by Sandra Heath
Jennifer leaned over to put a reassuring hand on her arm. “Mrs. Hollingsworth is right, you simply cannot fail, for there will be enough talk and interest to carry you through those all-important six months.”
“Maybe. Or maybe the whole thing will prove to be a nine days’ wonder. We all know that a hotel is nothing at the moment unless it offers the finest in French cuisine; the Lexham cannot do that.”
“Yet,” replied Jennifer firmly.
“I will need to find another Gaspard Duvall. And not only for the everyday cooking—what of your wedding? At the moment, it seems inevitable that we will have to approach Gunter’s, and that will mean, providing exactly the same feast as countless other fashionable weddings. There will not be anything memorable about that, will there? So, when the nine days of wonder are over, the Lexham will be judged on its own merits, and will be found wanting.”
Mrs. Hollingsworth inspected the toast and then held it to the fire again. “Your hotel will only be found wanting in that one respect, in all the others it will be superlative, of that you may be quite sure. It will offer the most elegant accommodation, the most exclusive address, and the finest service—I will personally see to the latter. As to using Gunter’s, well I agree that it is not ideal, but they are caterers of the highest quality and can be as French as need be—which should certainly be the case as they charge five guineas for the services of one of their man cooks and one guinea each for his eight attendants. I know these figures because the late earl employed them from time to time.”
The housekeeper paused for a moment, her expression suddenly very thoughtful, and then she lowered the toasting fork, looking directly at Caroline. “This Mr. Duvall is the finest French chef in London, is he not?”
“So I believe.”
“And he is dissatisfied at the Oxenford on account of the kitchens?”
“Yes.”
“Lure him here then.”
Caroline stared.
Mrs. Hollingsworth smiled. “I’ll warrant this house boasts the very best kitchens in England—excepting the Pavilion in Brighton, perhaps. Steal him from the Oxenford, Miss Lexham, for you owe that establishment nothing.”
Caroline was nonplussed. “Are you serious?”
“Never more so in my life.”
“I would dearly like to think I could lure him here, but I cannot. He may be dissatisfied at the Oxenford, but he is at least very well paid there. I can’t offer him anything but an uncertain future and the finest kitchens in Town. Indeed,” she added almost as an aside, “I can’t afford to do anything at all unless Mr. Jordan manages to sell my necklace.”
Mrs. Hollingsworth was not to be defeated. “Perhaps it will not be necessary to offer him grand sums of money, Miss Lexham. If your enterprise is a success, at the end of six months this house and its contents will be yours. You could offer Mr. Duvall a valuable item from the house in lieu of payment; and if he has an eye for a good bargain, he’ll see the benefit of such an arrangement. In my experience, madam, those who get to such eminent positions as he has reached do not do so without being shrewd men of business as well as masters of their chosen field.”
Jennifer had been listening with great interest, and now she smiled approvingly. “Mrs. Hollingsworth is right, and you must at least try. And just think what a sweet revenge it would be upon that horrid Mr. Bassett!”
Caroline looked from one to the other, and then slowly she smiled. “Very well, I will approach Monsieur Duvall.”
At that moment they heard a loud knocking echoing through from the front doors of the main house, and all three fell silent with surprise. Mrs. Hollingsworth got up and went to the window, peering out into the darkness, and then she smiled. “It’s Mr. Jordan, I recognize his chariot!” She hurried out and a moment later ushered the lawyer into the little parlor.
He bowed immediately to both Caroline and Jennifer. “Good evening, Miss Lexham. Miss Seymour.”
Jennifer smiled. “You do not seem surprised to see me here, sir.”
“That is because I already knew what had happened, Miss Seymour. Word of your actions has begun to spread already, and there is quite an upset at the Oxenford, as you can well imagine, for your—er—defection is not good for its reputation.”
“Excellent.”
He smiled a little. “My sentiments precisely. However, I will not beat about the bush and will come directly to the point of my visit. Miss Lexham, I have sold your necklace.”
Caroline stared. “Already?”
“It was most fortunate. This afternoon a gentleman from Scotland had an appointment with me, and he happened to see the necklace. On learning that its owner wished to sell it, he immediately offered me a most handsome price, saying that it was just the thing to present to his future wife. The transaction was completed there and then.”
He placed some documents in her hands. “I took the liberty of depositing the money in a very reputable bank, that of Messieurs Coutts, and now you may conduct your business through them, using their checks—a much safer proposition than keeping too much money in the house. There are so many rogues and thieves about, Miss Lexham, and it would not do at all for you to lose anything at this delicate stage.”
She gazed in wonder at the very handsome price her necklace had fetched. “Did he really pay this?”
“Certainly.”
“But who was he?”
For a moment the lawyer hesitated. “Oh, no one you know, my dear, and perhaps it would be best to leave him as a stranger, for the necklace meant a very great deal to you.”
“Yes, I suppose you are right. Oh, Mr. Jordan, I can hardly believe all this is really happening.”
“No,” he said with some feeling. “Nor can I.”
She smiled. “You must forgive me for so unsettling you, Mr. Jordan.”
“My dear Miss Lexham, you haven’t merely unsettled me, I fear you have quite taken my breath away. However, no doubt the novelty of it all will do me good. Now I must leave you, for I have a dinner to attend and shall barely be in time for the final speech. Good night, ladies.”
“Good night.”
Mrs. Hollingsworth showed him out, and Jennifer turned to Caroline. “There is something I have been meaning to mention to you.”
“Yes?”
“When I departed from the Oxenford today, Mr. Bassett went to great lengths to dissuade me, imploring that it was not his fault, that he had been in no position to defy three such eminent persons when they were intent upon having you removed.’’
“Oh.”
“You let me believe that the Earl of Lexham was the only person involved, but I now know that Lady Chaddington and her brother were too.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I believe you know why.”
“Because she is to marry Hal?”
“Yes.”
Jennifer lowered her eyes. “I have always loathed Marcia Chaddington, and now I loathe her more than ever. She is everything that is wrong for my brother, and yet he does not seem able to see it. She will make him very unhappy, and I cannot bear the thought, for I love him very dearly. I will tell him what she did to you, for he should know the depths to which she is capable of sinking.”
“Please, don’t.”
“Why?”
Caroline couldn’t answer, for she could hardly say that she thought Hal already knew full well what Marcia had done, and more, that he approved.
Jennifer was firm. “I mean to tell him. It isn’t as if I am breaking a confidence, for Mr. Bassett informed me, did he not?”
“I would still rather you said nothing.”
“His happiness is too important to me. I feel I must do all I can to make him see sense about her. Forgive me.”
Caroline smiled. “There is nothing to forgive, Miss Seymour.”
“Please call me Jennifer; after all we can hardly remain so formal when we are about to share slices of toast which resemble doorsteps!”
Caroline laughed
then. “Very well, provided you call me Caroline.”
“Naturally.”
Chapter 17
Nearly two weeks passed and February gave way to March. Preparations at Lexham House went on apace, but although Caroline expected some sign of further action on the part of her enemies, nothing happened. She learned that Dominic had been called away suddenly to his County Durham estate, which explained his silence, but Marcia Chaddington and her brother were very much in Town, and yet they appeared to be ignoring her continued presence.
She had written a brief note to Gaspard Duvall, asking him to call upon her at his earliest convenience, but as yet she had not received a reply. In the meantime she and Mrs. Hollingsworth had searched in vain for another chef, but as Mr. Jordan had said, such persons were not two a penny. The matter of a chef caused Caroline more and more anxiety as time went on, for the hotel was set to open in one week’s time, on the ill-starred Friday, the thirteenth of March. She had thought twice about tempting providence by choosing this particular date, but to wait another week would have clashed a little with Jennifer’s wedding, and to bring the date forward would have meant opening before the house was completely ready. So, with her fingers crossed, she had set the date for the thirteenth.
When she had taken up residence in the house, she had immediately met the first condition of her uncle’s will, and the second condition was met when the army of nearly thirty servants Mrs. Hollingsworth engaged opened up the rooms and lit fires in all the hearths.
It was good to be in the house when it was warm and welcoming. The dust sheets had been removed from the furniture, the brown paper taken down from the paintings, the carpets unrolled and put in their allotted places, and the crystal chandeliers glittered brilliantly on being released from their dull holland prisons.
Plate gleamed on the dining room’s handsome sideboards, and the mahogany table was a highly polished mirror in which shone perfect reflections of the silver-gilt candelabra standing upon it. The red saloon was also magnificent again, its beautiful furniture and paintings showing up to perfect advantage in the fresh spring sunlight which daily poured in through the tall windows.
Throughout the house the story was the same, and in the grounds gardeners tended the lawns and flower beds where daffodils were now in bud. The greenhouses had been put to full use again, and evergreen shrubs had been purchased, complete with terra-cotta pots, to place at various points where their foliage added a welcome contrast of color against the red brick of the house. They looked especially well upon the grand balcony overlooking the courtyard, as Caroline noted with approval each time she returned to the house after an expedition to the shops of Oxford Street or to the inexpensive dressmaker Mrs. Hollingsworth had found for her.
Caroline knew that she was in dire need of new clothes, for the mistress of the Lexham House could hardly appear alternately in gray wool or turquoise lawn. The thought of paying for such apparel, however, seemed dreadful, for it drained her resources, but so far her expenses had been minimal.
Jennifer now occupied gracious apartments at the front of the house, and she declared herself to be very well pleased, especially as it was so much more peaceful there than it had been at the Oxenford, where the noise of Piccadilly had intruded until well into the night.
After much deliberation, Caroline had been persuaded to take the private apartments on the ground floor. Her first instinct had been to take some rooms at the top of the house, but both Mrs. Hollingsworth and Jennifer had been appalled at such a suggestion, pointing out that already society was talking about the new venture, and about Caroline in particular—she would be expected to conduct herself as the mistress of the house, and would therefore have to play the part to the full. Eventually she was persuaded, but she felt ill at ease in rooms which had until fairly recently been occupied by her uncle, and she hated climbing at nights into the huge, canopied bed.
As preparations continued in Mayfair Street, society discussed the piquancy of the situation, for the Lexham will had intrigued many people. Dominic’s absence from Town caused a little disappointment, but the appearance one morning of an item in The Times assured onlookers of his imminent and furious return. The article detailed the goings-on at Lexham House, and was worded in such a way as to fan the flames of the family feud which had glowed steadily since the very day Philip Lexham had run away to marry Catherine Marchand.
Caroline had read the newspaper that morning too, and she could well imagine the effect its appearance at the breakfast table would be having upon her prideful, vengeful cousin. That edition of The Times would appear on the table at Selford too, which prompted her to sit down and write a lengthy letter of explanation to Richard, who was bound to be most alarmed when he realized what she was doing. She intended her letter to soothe his worries if at all possible, but when she read it through afterward, it seemed to show up the faults and hazards of her plan rather than conceal them. There was nothing for it but to dispatch the letter, however, and trust that it would serve the purpose for which it was intended.
Of Hal Seymour Lexham House saw nothing. He had remained firmly entrenched at the Oxenford, much to the annoyance of his sister, who was determined to show her disapproval by staying away from him. She wanted him to call upon her, but as yet he had not shown any inclination so to do. Unlike his future brother-in-law, Lord Carstairs upheld Jennifer on every count, declaring himself to be appalled at the conduct of the Oxenford, Dominic Lexham et al, and to be totally mystified by Hal’s refusal to join in the condemnation.
Hal appeared to be supremely unconcerned, continuing as if nothing had happened. He supervised the arrangements for the banquet, dined every night at the Oxenford, inspected the progress on his house in Hanover Square, and was seen absolutely everywhere with Marcia Chaddington on his arm. As far as Caroline was concerned, he could not have expressed himself more clearly had he placed a notice in a newspaper, but she hid her feelings so well that no one could have guessed that Sir Henry Seymour even crossed her mind.
As the day of the opening approached, Caroline wondered what she would have done without the help of Mrs. Hollingsworth. Having decided that Caroline’s plan for Lexham House offered it salvation from Dominic, the housekeeper did all in her power to help. She seemed to have an endless capacity for seeing simple solutions to problems that seemed enormous to Caroline. Every hotel should have two footmen to parade up and down outside, but that meant livery. Caroline could hardly array her footmen in Dominic’s livery, but to provide them with entirely new clothes would have been exorbitantly expensive.
The housekeeper produced some black braiding from a trunk in an attic room and set some housemaids to remove the silver lace and rosettes from the dark red coats and tricorn hats, replacing both with the braiding. The result was a transformation which Dominic would not be able to complain about with any justification. The housekeeper also solved the less important matter of the lack of hair powder for the footmen, advising the use of ordinary household flour instead. Thus, the two handsome fellows were all ready for their first day of duty on the pavement of Mayfair Street.
If Caroline felt indebted to the housekeeper, she was similarly obliged to Jennifer, for there was no doubting the considerable fillip the forthcoming wedding was giving to the new hotel’s fortunes. The mere fact that Jennifer and her future husband were staunchly in favor of marrying at the Lexham had already produced several tentative inquiries from people who wished to hold functions there, from a reunion of old soldiers to a fund-raising subscription dinner for the widows of Trafalgar. But in spite of her delight at these signs of society’s interest, Caroline was horribly aware of the Lexham Hotel’s one great failing: its lack of a French chef.
This problem had still not been solved when one morning Hal Seymour paid his first call upon his sister. Wearing a wine-red coat, his full cravat ruffled by the breeze, he drove smartly up to the door in his cabriolet. As he drew the vehicle to a standstill, the tiger jumped down from his perch behind a
nd took the reins from his master, who alighted and then paused to tip his top hat back on his dark hair for a moment. He gazed around the elegant courtyard, his expression thoughtful, and then he ascended the steps to the door, which was opened immediately by the vigilant porter.
Caroline was in the vestibule, but she was unaware of his arrival, for she was supervising the surprisingly difficult task of arranging the various sofas and tables to best advantage. The men moving the furniture were becoming harassed, and she was confounded by the seeming impossibility of achieving a suitably balanced and elegant arrangement.
Hal handed his hat and gloves to the porter, watched her for a moment more and then approached, smiling a little. “It would seem to me, Miss Lexham, that everything looks quite well as it now is.”
She whirled about. “Sir Henry!”
“The same.” He bowed.
It was a shock to see him again so unexpectedly, and his smile confused her, for when they had last faced each other he had been anything but smiling and friendly. “You startled me,” was all she could think of saying, and it sounded very lame.
“So it seems,” he replied. “Which is a dreadful admission from the chatelaine of such an establishment. You are not permitted to be anything but alert and imperturbable from now on, Miss Lexham.”
“I will be sure to remember that in future.”
He smiled again, but there was something in his glance that told her he was aware of the reserve of her manner. “You would be wise to do just that, for I fear you may soon receive a very unwelcome visit from a certain titled gentleman.”
“My cousin?”
“He returned to Town yesterday, brought hot-foot by what he had read in The Times. He then spent a considerable time with his new lawyer, a very sly fellow who knows more about the curves of the law than the straight lines, after which he took himself to Watier’s where he lost a considerable fortune. So far your cousin has done nothing whatever to meet the terms of his father’s will, in fact he has not curbed his extravagance in the slightest. He now begins to see that you, on the other hand, are prepared to do a great deal, and that is something he will find unendurable. I feel I should warn you most earnestly to be on your guard from now on.”