What would have happened then, whether Lady Belvedere would have dismissed her or ignored her completely so that she could continue to berate Lavinia, Rose was not to know because at that moment the door opened and a middle-aged man in a tweed suit and trim moustache walked in. There was something very self-assured about the way that he entered the room, a quiet self confidence that revealed him to be the owner of the house. More importantly, there was a jovial, good humoured air about him that had the effect of making Lady Belvedere pause and hesitate as if, for the first time, she was suddenly aware that she had an audience and that admonishing her daughter in front of it might not be entirely appropriate.
‘Uncle William!’ Lavinia ran over to the man and hugged him warmly and Rose wondered how Lady Belvedere must feel to see her daughter look so pleased to see her sister’s husband and yet so disappointed to see her own mother. Looking over at her, it was hard to tell what the woman was thinking because the sour look on her face, which appeared to be her usual expression, remained intact. Despite the breath of fresh air that Sir William had brought with him into the room, Rose was aware of a certain coldness that radiated from Lady Belvedere which made her shiver. For the first time, she felt afraid, but of course that was ridiculous, for there was nothing to be afraid of. It was true that Lady Belvedere’s stay at Ashgrove was likely to put a bit of a dampener on the weekend, but that was all. Rose still intended to enjoy herself and Sir William seemed most welcoming. As if on cue, Sir William disentangled himself from his wife’s niece and introduced himself.
‘How do you do, Miss Simpson? You are most welcome. Lavinia has told us all about you. You must forgive me for not being here to welcome you when you arrived. I had a few important telephone calls to make, I’m afraid, which just wouldn’t keep. I can’t think where my wife’s got to. It’s not like her not to be here to greet our guests. I say, Marjorie, is anything wrong?’
‘William, entertain Miss Simpson, will you. I’d like to have a private word with my daughter.’
‘Oh, Mother, not now, surely. We want to go and freshen up before lunch, and I want to show Rose her room.’
‘Better get a move on girls, Stafford will be in here shortly with the sherry.’ Sir William watched as Lavinia and Rose made their escape. ‘Don’t worry so, Marjorie, you’ll have ample time to talk to Lavinia after lunch. We’re not expecting Cedric until mid-afternoon.’
‘Ah, Cedric, at least it will be a joy to see him, although I fear he is rather neglecting his studies. I suppose it’s what young men do nowadays, or perhaps they always did?’ Lady Belvedere, still seated, looked about the room. ‘Where is Constance, William? She barely stopped to say hello to me when we arrived before she disappeared out through that window mumbling something about having to prune the roses. Stuff and nonsense! Since when has Constance known anything about gardening, I ask you. You’d better hope that that head gardener fellow of yours doesn’t catch her chopping bits off his rose bushes, they can be awfully possessive about their gardens and Constance is bound to make an awful mess of the pruning.’
The two girls ran into the hall and up the stairs giggling, almost colliding as they did so, with one of the housemaids, who had emerged from a bedroom carrying fresh linen. On the first floor, in addition to Lady Withers’ morning room and the linen room, there were six principal bedrooms and dressing rooms and two bathrooms and lavatories overlooking the hall. Lavinia did not stop on this floor, however, but continued up to the second floor where there were a further six secondary bedrooms, one of which had formerly been a nursery and another a schoolroom. Two rooms, which had also previously had other uses had been made into a small bathroom and lavatory.
‘This is your room, Rose,’ said Lavinia stopping at the door to one of the bedrooms, ‘it’s called the Snug, because I’m afraid it’s rather small, but it does have the advantage of being next to mine. My room’s called the Silk Room and I always stay in it when I visit, even though normally there’s plenty of room for me to have one of the bedrooms on the first floor if I wanted, but I love having a floor to myself and there’s a great view of the gardens. ‘Hopefully we won’t be bothered too much by my mother. She and Daddy are bound to have been given rooms on the first floor next to Uncle William’s and Aunt Constance’s. I expect that they’ll put Cedric and Lord Sneddon on that floor too; the bedrooms are far grander than the ones on this floor and they’ve all got dressing rooms.’
Rose was surprised to find that not only had her suitcase been brought up to her room, but it had also been unpacked and her clothes hung up in the wardrobe, and her toiletries laid out on the dressing table. Lavinia had followed her into her bedroom and had opened her wardrobe and was leafing through her clothes with interest. Lavinia paused when she came to Rose’s black, silk velvet evening dress and scrutinised it; Rose had wondered at the time whether her friend considered it too plain, later she thought Lavinia had just been relieved that it had not outshone her outfit.
‘Of course, it’s an awful bore Mother being here,’ Lavinia said finally, perching on Rose’s bed. But I’m jolly well going to make Cedric keep her occupied. I don’t know how he could have been so stupid as to let her know that we’d be coming to Ashgrove this weekend. He must have known what she’d do.’
‘I don’t think she likes me very much,’ Rose sighed and sat down on the bed beside her friend.
‘My mother doesn’t like anyone very much,’ admitted Lavinia with surprising conviction, ‘not even me, her own daughter. You mustn’t take it personally, Rose. I would be far more concerned if she liked you. Why on earth my father ever married her, I can’t imagine, although she was very beautiful when she was young, and rich, of course, both her and Constance. But Daddy and she have absolutely nothing in common. They hardly see anything of each other, he’s always shut up in his library with his books or in his study tied up with estate affairs and my mother’s busy with her fund-raising efforts and lecturing our poor vicar on how he should be dealing with the poor, most of whom she thinks are quite undeserving. If only Daddy had married Aunt Connie instead. I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded a bit about me working in a shop for a bet, she would have seen it as a bit of a lark.’
‘You’re fond of your father though, aren’t you, Lavinia?’ Rose, who adored her own mother, could not bear the idea that Lavinia should not be fond of at least one of her parents.
‘Daddy’s an absolute sweetie, what Cedric and I see of him anyway, but that’s not much as he always shuts himself away. I think he’s a bit of a recluse. How on earth my mother managed to persuade him to come down to Ashgrove, I can’t imagine. Oh, if only he wouldn’t let my mother walk all over him all the time, if only he’d stand up to her once in a while. I’m sure if he did, she’d be so much more bearable, she’s too used to getting her own way.’
Rose suppressed a grin; the same could be said of her friend.
‘Oh, I suppose we can’t put it off any longer, we’d better go down. Hopefully Aunt Connie will be there and Daddy, of course. I’d like you to meet him.’
‘Oh, there you are at last, Constance. Wherever have you been, you can’t have spent all that time dead heading roses,’ Lady Belvedere sounded quite annoyed. ‘And do tell me you’re going to change. It really would be too much if you come to luncheon dressed liked that.’
‘Naturally I’m going to change,’ retorted Lady Withers, looking quite red in the face, whether as a result of her efforts in the garden or because she was put out by her sister’s comments, it was hard to tell. ‘But may I remind you, Marjorie, that this is my house and if I choose to lunch in my gardening clothes, then I will.’
‘Now, now,’ said Sir William trying to smooth things over. ‘Stafford will be in here any minute with the sherry and he tells me that Mrs Palmer has put on a very good spread for lunch, quite excelled herself, I believe.’
‘Well, that wouldn’t be difficult,’ replied Lady Belvedere, ‘her cooking’s not up to much at the best of times. If she’s excell
ed herself this time, it will just mean that it’s just about acceptable, certainly nothing to write home about.’
Unfortunately, while Lady Withers just stood there gaping in amazement and Sir William chose to ignore this slight on his cook’s culinary skills, his butler chose this very moment to enter the room; although his face remained as impassive as ever, the faintest of twitches revealed to Sir William that he had heard Lady Belvedere’s unkind remark and Stafford, he knew, was not a man to take insults to the staff lying down.
Lunch was something of an uncomfortable affair for Rose as she was faced with a vast array of cutlery and courses. Rather to her surprise, she noticed that the women, in particular, tended to eat only small amounts of each course and she followed suit, determined not to look out of place. She wondered what happened to the food that was left on the plates, whether it was thrown away, or resurfaced in the servants’ meals or even in later dishes for the household. Fortunately, she had found herself next to the kindly Sir William who asked, with what appeared to be genuine interest, after her work in the dress shop. He in turn gave her a potted history of Ashgrove House and also described the grounds. Lady Belvedere, she was relieved to see, was seated at the other end of the table so Rose was subjected only to the odd contemptuous look from the countess, who clearly disapproved of her presence in the house. Lavinia, who was seated next to her mother and so was suffering the full force of her conversation, was looking distinctly irritated and miserable in equal amounts, and trying with much endeavour to ignore what Lady Belvedere was saying, by concentrating her attention on playing restlessly with her napkin.
The Earl of Belvedere had joined the party very late, just as they were about to receive their first course. This in itself did not seem to surprise anyone other than Rose. It appeared that Stafford had been sent to prise Lord Belvedere out of the library and he had entered the dining room looking slightly disorientated, as if his mind had been left behind in the books. He had seemed surprised to see his daughter, as if he had forgotten that she would be there, but equally he looked pleased in a quiet, reserved manner. Following introductions, he had acknowledged Rose with a smile and Rose had felt kindly towards him, perhaps more so than was strictly warranted, because of the relief that she felt at his appearing to be nothing like his wife. In appearance, he was very similar to Sir William, in that he had similar colouring, was about the same age with the same style trim moustache and like Sir William was wearing a tweed suit. It was only after the meal, when the two men had risen, that Rose saw that the earl was taller than Sir William by a head or so, and somewhat slighter in build.
After lunch, it appeared that Sir William had important correspondence to deal with in his study and that Lord Belvedere was keen to return to his books. Lady Withers made a half-hearted attempt to engage all the women in conversation, but failed spectacularly as Lady Belvedere cut her dead with a glance and demanded the use of her morning room for half an hour or so in order that she could continue her one-sided conversation with her daughter. Lavinia initially looked minded to refuse to go with her mother, but then seemed to think better of it, as if it was best to get it over and done with as soon as possible so that she could get on with enjoying the weekend. She gave Rose a resigned look and followed her mother out of the room.
‘My sister really is too bad,’ said Lady Withers, looking after the retreating figures, ‘if only she’d leave poor Lavinia alone and stop trying to dictate to her all the time. Then the poor girl wouldn’t feel so obliged to constantly rebel. I do so feel for Lavinia. William and I, not having been blessed with children of our own, have always rather thought of Lavinia and Cedric as our son and daughter, rather than as our niece and nephew. Oh, I was so hoping that we’d all have a nice quiet weekend together. We do so like meeting Lavinia’s friends, but I’m afraid my sister does have a tendency to spoil things. She was just the same when we were children, always bossing everyone around, determined to get her own way.’
‘I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time, Lady Withers,’ replied Rose feeling rather awkward that Lady Withers had spoken to her so frankly. ‘Sir William was just telling me over luncheon all about your lovely gardens. It would be so wonderful to see them, if you don’t mind, of course. It’s so nice to be out of London and such a wonderful sunny day.’
‘Of course, my dear, I don’t suppose you’re used to seeing such things,’ replied Lady Withers, looking relieved and proceeding out of one of the French windows. ‘I expect that you live in a ghastly little house with absolutely no garden to speak of. If we just go along the terrace here we’ll get to the rose garden and then I’ll take you to see the other gardens. They are rather beautiful I can tell you, although, of course, I know absolutely nothing about flowers or gardening really. We’re so fortunate to still have Bridges; you won’t believe how many families around here have lost their gardeners. They went off to war and never came back, or those who did decided that domestic service was beneath them. Yes, I suppose we are lucky, really, what with having Bridges and Stafford and Mrs Palmer. Perhaps it’s going to be all right after all. Perhaps I was wrong when I thought that something dreadful was bound to happen this weekend.’
Chapter Seven
‘It’s no use, Mother, I’m not going to -,’ began Lavinia, as she followed Lady Belvedere into Lady Withers’ morning room and closed the door behind her.
‘Oh, do be quiet, Lavinia,’ said her mother impatiently, turning around and giving her daughter such a glare that the words froze on Lavinia’s tongue, and she was forced instead to give her mother her full attention. ‘I am tired of this. In my day girls were always obedient to their parents’ wishes. Nowadays young people seem to think that they know best; in that, I can tell you, they are very much mistaken. You are not going to go back to that awful little dress shop and that is that; there is no discussion to be had on the matter. If necessary, I’ll see to it that your father stops your monthly allowance and that you remain a virtual prisoner at Sedgwick until you learn some sense and do as you are told.’
‘Father would never allow -.’
‘Oh, don’t talk nonsense, Lavinia, you know full well that your father will do exactly as I say. We both want to do what is best for you even if you yourself are quite determined to ruin all your chances. But enough of this, we’ll talk about all this shop nonsense later. What I really want to talk to you about now concerns a chance to redeem yourself.’
‘What do you mean, Mother?’ Lavinia found that she was curious despite herself.
‘Constance tells me that Cedric is expected down this weekend. And if he comes down, it’s highly likely that he’ll bring Lord Sneddon with him. You must make the most of this opportunity, Lavinia, while their friendship is still strong. When else are you going to find yourself the only eligible woman at a house party where the heir to a dukedom just happens to be present? You know as well as I do, that even for a woman like you with every privilege and beauty, the only way to true freedom is through an advantageous marriage. If you continue to behave in the way you have been, shut away in your dress shop and attracting all sorts of the very wrong kinds of people, you will deter any appropriate suitors. This weekend you will act demurely and do everything in your power to secure Lord Sneddon’s affections. It can’t be a hardship for you after all. Why, there must be a hundred aristocratic young ladies who would give anything to be in just such a position. And besides, Lord Sneddon has the additional benefits of being young and handsome. What more can you ask for, Lavinia? Do not disappoint me.’
‘Very well, Mother,’ said Lavinia, secretly very pleased that for once her mother’s wishes mirrored her own. For, ever since she realised Lord Sneddon might be joining them, she had been busy planning how to secure the marquis’s affections in the snatched moments between being lectured to by her mother and entertaining Rose.
‘It is a pity that you brought that girl with you,’ Lady Belvedere was saying, ‘she’s bound to be an unnecessary inconvenience and an absolute emb
arrassment; her sort of women always are, they always think they are above themselves but they don’t know how to behave in our sort of company. Did you see the way she simply stared at the dishes we had for luncheon? She’s probably never seen so much food, for one moment I thought that she was going to try and eat it all and then lick the plates clean!’
‘You’re being very unfair, Mother,’ replied Lavinia, suddenly feeling defensive of her friend, not least because she was feeling rather guilty having been half wishing herself that she had left Rose in London this weekend so that she could give Lord Sneddon her undivided attention. ‘She knows exactly how to behave in company, or I wouldn’t have brought her with me. Her family has simply fallen on hard times, that’s all. Why, if her father was still alive, she wouldn’t be forced to go out to work at all.’
‘Even so, she’s hardly from our class. However, it could prove to be a blessing in disguise,’ admitted Lady Belvedere rather grudgingly. Seeing the bewildered expression on her daughter’s face, she went on to explain. ‘Well, fortunately she is a very plain creature which by comparison will only help to accentuate your looks. And I expect, if her present attire is anything to go by, that her clothes will be cheap and a little vulgar. What a pity you didn’t know Lord Sneddon was going to be here and then you might have packed some of your finest gowns and diamonds.’
01 - Murder at Ashgrove House Page 6