Roses and Champange

by Neels, Betty

  ‘Well, I wasn’t going to. As a matter of fact,’ she added carefully, ‘I’m not in the least interested.’ She uttered the lie in a matter-of-fact voice which didn’t deceive Lucius in the least.

  ‘Have you heard from Mrs Lovell?’ he wanted to know as they drank thencoffee. ‘Has young Lovell been to see you—or phoned?’

  ‘No.’ Katrina tried to look assured and failed. ‘Should I have?’

  ‘Why not ring Mrs Lovell? If Virginia wants this wedding when she says she does, there’s not much time to lose.’

  Which meant that, eagerly bidden to call that very afternoon by the mouselike Mrs Lovell, Katrina found herself in the Jaguar, being driven to that lady’s house.

  The Lovells’ home was of comfortable size in its own large grounds and furnished splendidly; there was no lack of money, indeed, Mrs Lovell had been left very well off and James had money of his own; Virginia would be able to indulge her every whim. Lucius stopped before the entrance porch and got out with Katrina. He glanced up at the front of the house. ‘Our Virginia has done quite well for herself,’ he observed, and rang the bell.

  Mrs Lovell was glad to see them. ‘I wasn’t sure if I should telephone you!’ she said worriedly. ‘James is putting the notice in the papers today, and he said there’d be nothing for me to do but attend the wedding.’

  ‘Guests?’ asked Lucius gently.

  ‘Yes. Oh well—perhaps we could make a list. It’s to be at Upper Tew, isn’t it? James says Virginia wants a big wedding; they’re coming here this evening, I believe—but the church won’t hold any more than two hundred, will it? And where will you hold the reception?’

  ‘At home,’ said Katrina composedly, her mind racing round in circles—buffet lunch, and Old John would be furious if he had to use all his precious plants from the glasshouse. ‘Could we make a quick list of guests now and ask Virginia and James to add anyone else this evening? Then we could get them away tomorrow—it’s very short notice, but it can’t be helped.’ She frowned. ‘I’ll get the caterers on to it tomorrow once we’ve a rough idea of how many there’ll be.’

  Mrs Lovell, smiling uncertainly, said: ‘It’s all quite a rush, isn’t it? I knew that James was fond of Virginia, of course...’ her eyes slid to Lucius and she went slowly red. He smiled at her. ‘But the best man always wins, doesn’t he?’ He didn’t appear in the least put out and in a moment she smiled too. ‘It’s all very suitable,’ she murmured.

  The lists were made over a cup of tea, with Lucius obligingly writing them down and totting up the names. ‘Sixty for Katrina, seventy for you, Mrs Lovell, which leaves seventy for the happy couple to split between them.’ He handed them each the lists of names. I’m going up to town tomorrow, if you like to draft out the invitation cards I’ll take them along to a printers.’

  Mrs Lovell was effusive in her thanks, Katrina less so. Lucius was behaving—for a man who had been treated as Virginia had treated him—in a most untypical manner, for all the world as though he were the brother or even the father of the bride. She threw him a suspicious glance and met his grey eyes, usually so cool but now gleaming with amusement.

  ‘You seem very anxious to get Virginia married,’ she observed as they drove back.

  ‘I like to clear the decks ready for action,’ was all he said. She sat and puzzled that one out, and came to no conclusion at all. He dropped her at her own door and drove back to his home, with the reminder that he would be back for her at half past seven.

  Katrina took great pains with her appearance, and was rewarded by Lucius’s ‘very nice’, when he called for her. He was wearing a dark grey suit and a rather splendid tie; he looked handsome, interesting, and wore the bland expression which told her nothing at all. As she got into the car beside him he observed: ‘There may be a little awkwardness, though I’m sure we can depend upon Mr Moffat to smooth things over.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘You look more than a match for anyone.’

  She wasn’t sure if he meant that or if he was just being kind. ‘Yes, but what am I going to say?’ she asked in a panic.

  ‘You’ll think of something,’ he told her comfortably.

  All the same, her head was empty as they went into the Rectory’s drawing room—an apartment of Victorian vastness which was only half filled by the eight people already in it. She knew them all, of course, and went around greeting them with the warmth of long acquaintance. It was Mrs Turner, the doctor’s wife, who drew her a little on one side. ‘My dear,’ she began, ‘Virginia told us such an extraordinary story—is it joke? Is she really marrying James Lovell—I quite thought...’ Her eyes swivelled round to where Lucius was standing. ‘You know she and Lucius—they’ve been in each other’s pockets for weeks.’

  Mr Moffat had sidled up to join them. Katrina took a breath. ‘Just good friends,’ she said calmly, ‘while she was making up her mind about James.’

  ‘But, my dear,’ chimed in Mrs Moffat, ‘she said such peculiar things! No one would believe them, of course—not that she wasn’t speaking the truth, but I daresay she was overwrought...a young girl,’ she added vaguely.

  ‘But of course it’s nonsense,’ declared Mrs Turner. ‘I mean, you and Lucius—you’ve known each other since you were in prams!’

  Katrina couldn’t quite see why two babies in their prams shouldn’t grow up and fall hi love and marry if they felt so inclined, but she didn’t say so because that might have put ideas in her companions’ heads. She remembered with a spark of rage that Lucius had other ideas, and wondered what he was saying. It was impossible to find out, he was at the other end of the room, talking to Dr Turner.

  The evening seemed to go on forever. The wedding was the main topic of conversation, of course, at least among the ladies. ‘You’ll find that house of yours rather large when Virginia’s gone,’ observed Mrs Moffat kindly, and Lucius, standing close by, had turned his head and said pleasantly: ‘Probably she won’t be there very long, Mrs Moffat.’ He had smiled brilliantly at Katrina as he spoke and she had blushed scarlet. If looks could have killed, he would have dropped dead where he stood!

  It was on their way home that she demanded furiously: ‘Why did you have to say that? Now everyone is wondering...’

  His tone was infuriatingly matter-of-fact. ‘But we want them to, don’t we? If Virginia amused herself spreading wild rumours about us, we might as well give them credence.’ He came to a halt outside her front door and turned to look at her. ‘And there’s no need for you to be so peevish about it—I told you I was going to court you.’

  Katrina tried to open the door and couldn’t. ‘You are impossible,’ she told him. ‘All this silly talk!’

  ‘I rather like the term myself—it has a nice honest ring to it, like walking out. Which reminds me, you’d better come up to town with me tomorrow and get clothes. You’ll have to live to a tight schedule from now on.’ He got out of the car and opened the door for her. ‘Do you suppose your Mrs Beecham will have any of her soup lying around in the kitchen? Mrs Moffat is a dear soul, but I never get enough to eat when we go there to dine.’

  Katrina said crossly: ‘Oh, come inside, do,’ and swept past him into the hall where Lovelace was advancing to meet them. ‘Lovelace, Mr Massey is hungry—he wants some soup.’

  Lovelace beamed at them both. ‘There now, miss, Mrs Beecham left a saucepan of her special mushroom soup on the stove, seeing that it’s such a cold night. I’ll fetch it along.’

  Lucius had flung his coat on to a chair. ‘Let’s have it in the kitchen.’ He looked at Lovelace. ‘We can help ourselves—you were locking up, I expect.’

  ‘Well, really,’ said Katrina coldly as they went to the kitchen, ‘anyone would think this was your house—the cheek of it!’

  She swept to the old-fashioned dresser and got two soup bowls with a good deal of noise.

  ‘My dear soul, I’ve been in and out of your kitchen since I could toddle, but since you insist, I’ll just sit at the table and you shall serve the soup.’
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  ‘Oh, be quiet, do!’ said Katrina abruptly. ‘You seem to find everything so amusing—it was a beastly evening, and you made it worse. And you can get your own soup!’

  ‘Better than that, I’ll get yours as well. Where’s the bread?’

  He called for her at half past eight the next morning; she had told herself that she had no intention of going with him, but he had coolly worn her down and here she was, sitting beside him once more, warmly wrapped up against the cold morning. She hadn’t seen Virginia, although Lovelace had told her that she had come in very late on the previous night. She left a message that she would be back that evening and begged Virginia to add the names of any guests she wanted to the list she had left on her desk. In the car she said worriedly: ‘I wonder why Virginia was so late home? It was past two o’clock, Lovelace told me.’

  Lucius laughed. ‘My dear Katrina, if you were engaged to be married, with the date fixed and a large diamond ring on your finger, where do you suppose you’d be?’

  She said huffily: ‘You’re just guessing. Besides...’

  He slid past a slow-moving van. ‘The young today have rather different ideas from us older ones.’ His voice was bland and held a hint of laughter.

  ‘Don’t make me sound middle-aged!’ said Katrina indignantly. Tm not thirty yet.’

  ‘Exactly, that’s why we’re on our way to buy your outfit for the wedding—left to yourself you would come home with something hi excellent taste, beige or grey and guaranteed to dun your radiance.’

  She was uncertain about the radiance, but in bed that night she had to admit that if she had been shopping on her own, she would never have bought an outfit in old rose silk, nor would she have chosen a wide-brimmed hat of leghorn straw trimmed with pink roses. ‘I shall be so conspicuous!’ she almost wailed at Lucius as they travelled back to Upper Tew.

  And all he had said was: ‘You’ll look exactly as you’re supposed to look.’

  She looked at the outfit, hanging beside the new ball dresses the next morning before she started to dress; they looked out of place beside the sober garments about them. Not knowing why she should do so, she chose a pleated skirt in a sensible shade of brown and topped it with a cream silk blouse and a thick sweater just as sensible.

  The Hunt Ball was at the end of the week, and beyond one or two committee meetings in the village, planning Christmas parties for the school children and an outing for the very elderly, Katrina had nothing much to do. Which was as well, because organising the wedding was taking all her spare time, although it was wonderful what money could do, she thought. The invitation cards were printed with speed, the caterers had everything tied up within an hour or so, extra help was found in the village, the bridesmaids agreed with heartening speed about their dresses, and the florist at Chipping Sodbury was only too glad to provide the flowers.

  Virginia had wanted them sent down from London, but Katrina had been firm about this. ‘Suppose there’s a hitch and they don’t arrive?’ she wanted to know. She had spoken sharply because Virginia spent so much time away from home and expected all the arrangements to be made at the drop of a hat and with no trouble to herself. She had hardly spoken to Katrina, and certainly went out of her way to ignore Lucius. Which wasn’t surprising; both he and Katrina had had their fill of veiled questions and friendly jokes.

  The weather turned bitterly cold and there was a thin icing of snow on the morning of the Hunt Ball. Katrina hadn’t seen anything of Lucius for two days and supposed him to be away and Virginia and James, who had come to lunch had driven off again, presumably to his home. Katrina had been there again, this time driving herself, to confer with Mrs Lovell, and that lady had been to lunch with her, but any help Katrina might have expected from her wasn’t forthcoming. Beyond waffling on and on about her wedding outfit, Mrs Lovell had nothing constructive to say. Katrina had wished heartily that Lucius had been with them to help the conversation along. Alone in the house, she washed her hair, then wrapped herself up and took Bouncer for a brisk walk. As she came back down the lane she could see lights shining from Stockley House and the Jaguar was standing on the sweep before the front of the house. Lucius was home.

  The green dress, so unlike anything she had ever worn before, certainly became her. She stood in front of the pier glass, studying her image, and for once was satisfied. True, she wished for curling hair, regular features, several inches more height and tapering white hands instead of the small capable ones she possessed, albeit beautifully kept, but since she had none of them, she decided that Lucius had been right; the dress suited her.

  She picked up the coat her father had given her for her twenty-first birthday, checked her purse, and went downstairs. Lovelace had brought her car round to the door for her and she got in and drove the short distance to Stockley House.

  Cobb admitted her, took her coat and led her to the drawing room where Lucius was entertaining his dinner guests. The room was fairly full despite its size and he was at the farther end of it, but he excused himself as she went in and crossed the carpeted floor to meet her. Which meant that everyone there stopped their chatter to look at her.

  Lucius bent to kiss her cheek. ‘Quite an entrance, my dear,’ he said softly. ‘That’s an enchanting dress.’

  She was conscious of disappointment because although he had admired her dress he hadn’t actually admired her. There was, she considered, quite a difference—but there was no tune to split hairs. She began a leisurely tour of the room, greeting everyone there; she had known most of them all her life.

  Lucius could be very grand when occasion demanded. The table sparkled with family silver and magnificent glass; the Spode china echoed the colours of the centrepiece—gold and bronze and white. Ka-trina found herself near him between Sir William Jer-myn, who owned most of the land on the other side of the village, and young Peter Crawley, who lived for his hunting and had little interest in anything else. Katrina, who disliked it very much although she was keen enough on riding, listened politely to the latest news of the hunting field and then applied herself to her elderly partner on the other side, who collected Fulda figures—they were rare enough to cause him to travel in their search, and since he was just back from Fulda where he had acquired a specially fine piece, he had a good deal to say. Katrina listened to him as politely as she had to Peter Crawley and at the excellent dinner Lucius had provided, but she was glad though to go into the drawing room with the other women and have her coffee, although she hadn’t expected quite so much interest in herself.

  She had been prepared to answer questions about the wedding, because everyone there had been invited, anyway, but after several pleasing comments upon her appearance the questions became a little more difficult to answer. What were her own plans for the future? Would she be spending Christmas at home or perhaps at Stockley House? Someone had seen them dining at La Sorbonne and wanted to know, rather archly, if she and Lucius enjoyed going out together. It was a good thing that the men joined them very shortly and everyone dispersed to drive to Mau-dell House, ten miles away, where the ball was to be held. She did her best to make herself inconspicuous as they all gathered in the hall, offering lifts to each other, but Lucius caught her arm and said loudly: ‘Of course you’ll come with me, Katie,’ giving her a smile so full of charm that several of the older ladies standing near sighed sentimentally and exchanged meaning glances.

  The ball was well attended. It took Katrina some time to discover Virginia and James dancing together. They made a splendid couple, and Virginia’s dress was stunning. Katrina danced with Lucius and then with a succession of men, all of whom complimented her on her appearance, some of them with faint surprise in their voices, and when she danced with Lucius again he observed: ‘You’re going down very well, Katie—even stealing some of Virginia’s thunder.’

  ‘I don’t want to do that,’ she protested. ‘She’s the bride-to-be!’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Ah, yes, but everyone here expects you to be the next one.
’ He grinned suddenly. ‘Several of our more elderly friends have expressed the opinion that we shall make a very good match, you and I.’

  ‘You never let them think that? Just to annoy Virginia? Lucius, how could you?’

  ‘Easily, especially as it’s true. Really you are the most unresponsive girl, Katie! Here I am, courting you for all it’s worth, and you refuse to take me seriously.’ He tightened his hold on her. ‘And don’t look so furious—do try to remember that I’ve been completely won over by your brains, elegance and knowledge of the world.’

  Katrina giggled, then said: ‘But it’s not funny really. I’m not any of those things and it’s absurd to suggest it.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He stared down at her, his eyes amused although he looked serious. ‘In any case I prefer you as you are, just Katie.’

  He didn’t dance with her again for quite a while. The noise and crush of people, indicative of the success of the evening, got worse and worse and finally ended in a wild gallop round and round the ballroom. Katrina, who had been partnering Peter Crawley, suddenly found that he had gone and that Lucius was there instead—a great improvement, she decided, whirling along at a great rate. Lucius was large, heavily built and acted nicely as a buffer between her and wildly rushing dancers round her. The whole thing ended with everyone almost too breathless to sing ‘God Save the Queen’.

  ‘The best ball we’ve had for a long time,’ remarked Katrina, being edged towards the ladies’ cloakroom— a converted bedroom at the top of the wide staircase. The Frobishers were struggling to the top too.

  ‘And next year I suppose you’ll be married,’ said the eldest Frobisher girl. ‘It’s all very romantic, Katrina. We should never have guessed about you and Lucius—I mean, Virginia told us all that she and...’

  To Katrina’s relief someone pushed between them and she edged away. It was two o’clock in the morning and she was far too tired to give the right answers. Bother Lucius, she thought crossly, searching for her coat in the huge piles around the room. She found it presently and went back to the hall and saw him waiting goodnaturedly while his party sorted themselves out for the drive back to Stockley House. When the last guest had squeezed into the last car he took her arm, settled her in the Jaguar, waved a final goodbye to their host and hostess, and drove off. It was a cold clear night with a thick frost. Katrina could see the tail lights of the cars ahead of them going up the hill outside the village; they made the sleeping country around them seem lonely.