‘No, of course not Lady … eh ... Connie.’ In truth, it was the last thing Rose wanted to do, as she could already imagine the uncomfortable silence that would ensue between herself and Mrs Torrington as they both sat there waiting for their tea to be brought up, wondering what on earth to say to one another. However, it was the ideal opportunity to find out once and for all about the cause of Edith’s fascination with Cedric, and why seeing him brought her so much pain.
Rose chose an easy chair covered in glazed chintz positioned at an angle to the settee on which Mrs Torrington had previously been half reclining, but on which she was now sitting very upright, her hands firmly balled as if she were willing herself to be calm. Both women looked at each other every now and then and when they happened to catch each other’s eye, they smiled shyly. It occurred to Rose that, notwithstanding her long friendship with Lady Withers, Edith felt as much a fish out of water at Ashgrove as she did herself.
‘I feel I must apologise to you, Miss Simpson, for your being called upon to keep an eye on me when I’m sure you’d much prefer to be outside with Lavinia and the others taking in the splendours Ashgrove has to offer, to say nothing of this glorious sunshine,’ Edith said, at last. ‘You must think my behaviour just now very strange; I feel I owe you an explanation least you think too badly of me.’
Rose looked up expectantly. It was hard to know what to say, so she said nothing, just smiled, but it appeared that a response was neither required nor expected from her.
‘Tell me, did Constance and the others say how I might behave if I saw Lord Sedgwick?’
‘They inferred that you were likely to be very upset, that you had encountered Lord Sedgwick a couple of years ago when you had been down at Ashgrove, and that the encounter had left you distressed.’
‘Did they say why?’
‘No, and I thought it impolite to ask.’
‘What a sweet child you are. Lavinia is lucky to have you for a friend. Will you pass me my handbag please, it’s to the right of you.’ Rose did as she was bid. ‘Thank you. Look at this, and tell me what you make of it?’ Edith passed Rose a black and white photograph that was severely creased. The subject matter was a young man with blonde hair, dressed in an army officer’s uniform of the Great War.
‘It’s Cedric,’ said Rose, confused, ‘but no, it can’t be. He’d have only been a child when this photograph was taken, but it must be him, it looks exactly like him.’
‘It’s not him,’ said Edith, quietly, ‘although it does look a lot like him, doesn’t it? I’m sure though, that if you were to put them side by side, you would be able to see a number of differences, but we’ll never know now.’
‘Who is he?’ Rose noticed that Edith’s eyes were filling with tears.
‘He was my son, Robert. He was killed in the war, not long after his eighteenth birthday. It was near the end of the war. If only he’d been born a few months later, he’d have been spared the fighting altogether and he’d be alive now. He’d probably be married with a family of his own.’
‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Torrington.’ Rose leaned forward in her chair and half stretched out her hand to Edith.
‘Thank you, my dear, that’s very kind of you. I know that I’m not the only one to have suffered because of the war. I know that there’s probably not a family in Britain that’s not lost someone. But you see, Robert was my only child and I loved him so much. I’ve tried and tried for the sake of my husband to get over it, but I just can’t. Part of me doesn’t want to get over it, you see. It would seem disloyal somehow, as if I never loved him. I’m so afraid of forgetting what he was like, the way he wore his hair, even the sound of his voice.’
‘I understand,’ Rose said gently, moving to sit next to Edith on the settee and taking her hand in her own, ‘it must be very hard, especially when it must seem that everyone else has moved on.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Edith sobbing quietly. ‘I’ve only just met you, and here I am making a complete fool of myself, and pouring out my life story to you. But you seem so very kind and I find it all so difficult at home. I don’t really have anyone to talk to about it, you see. I’ve tried and tried to talk to Harold, my husband, but he just doesn’t want to know. He likes to keep his emotions buttoned up, you see, you know, stiff upper lip and all that. He thinks it best if we both try and be strong. It’s tearing my marriage apart.’
‘I can understand how hard it must be to see Cedric. He must remind you awfully of your son and what you have lost.’
‘Yes. When I saw Cedric here a couple of years ago, he was the same age as my son was when he went off to war, just a couple of months before he was killed. I found it all too much. I convinced myself somehow that he was Robert come back from the grave. I made a frightful scene, I’m afraid, I blush even now to think of it. I must have frightened Lord Sedgwick dreadfully, but I’m better now. It was an awful shock to see him just now because I wasn’t expecting to, but I’m sure I’ll be alright at dinner. You never know, my dear,’ continued Edith, drying her eyes on her handkerchief, ‘this might be exactly what I needed.’
Without warning, the door opened. Both women looked up expecting to see the house-parlour maid coming in with the tea. It was something akin to alarm then, when Rose saw that the newcomer was not the maid but the Countess of Belvedere. Both women scrambled hastily to their feet, but not before Edith had snatched the photograph of Robert back from Rose’s hand, almost tearing it in the process as she stuffed it into her bag.
‘Hello, Edith, Constance said you were expected.’ Lady Belvedere had followed Edith’s actions and turned her gaze to Edith’s handbag as if she thought it held some wild animal.
‘Hello Marjorie. It’s been a long time since we were all together, hasn’t it? It’s hard to remember that we all used to be inseparable.’ There was an icy coldness to Edith’s voice which made Lady Belvedere look wary and, Rose was sure she had not imagined it, afraid.
‘I’ll see you again at dinner, Marjorie. Rose and I are having our tea in here. We must catch up later, I’ve so much to tell you.’
Lady Belvedere looked for a moment from one to the other, nodded and then retreated, closing the door softly behind her. Rose looked at Edith in awe, there was obviously more to this old school friend of Lady Withers than met the eye.
Chapter Eleven
‘Oh, there you are, Rose, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ Lavinia said as Rose came out onto the terrace. ‘Aunt Connie said that you’d kindly offered to look after Edith and have your tea with her in the morning room, but that was ages ago. It really is too bad Edith making another scene. Poor Cedric, it quite shocked him, you know, although he tried not to show it. It was awful for Daddy too; he wasn’t there last time it happened so he had absolutely no idea what to expect and so was very shaken by it all. He was as white as a sheet when he and Cedric came out to join us, you’d have thought he’d seen a ghost.’ Lavinia sighed. ‘I do hope Edith’s not going to ruin the weekend, it really is too bad of her. I mean, it’s awful enough having Mother here lecturing me all the time, without having Edith having hysterics.’
‘Mrs Torrington’s been through a lot, Lavinia, losing her only son in the war. It can’t have been easy for her. She showed me a photograph of him and he did look jolly like Cedric, you know. It must be hard for her when she sees him. It must remind her of what she’s lost.’
‘Aunt Connie said that they didn’t really look that much alike, that it was just in Edith’s imagination,’ said Lavinia dismissively. ‘You know, just two young men of approximately the same age with a similar build and the same hair colour.’
Rose blushed as a thought suddenly struck her. Was it possible that in her own mind she had exaggerated the extent of the resemblance in the photograph between Robert and Cedric, because her thoughts were on Cedric at the time?
‘But anyway, that’s enough about her,’ Lavinia was continuing, ‘we’ve come here to enjoy ourselves and we jolly well will, we won’t let
Edith spoil it. The boys have gone for a walk to the village; I said I’d wait for you. What shall we do now? We could follow them or go for a walk around the grounds; you haven’t seen it all, there’s parkland and a lake and woodland, but we’ll probably explore that all tomorrow with Hugh and Cedric, they were talking about taking a picnic. Or we could go to my room and have a good old gossip and decide what we’re going to wear tonight for dinner,’ Lavinia looked distinctly excited at this prospect, ‘we never really get the chance to have a good old chat at work, do we, and I’m always so exhausted by the end of the day to go out, that I’m no good to anyone.’
Rose would have preferred to go for a walk for she felt she had been cooped up inside enough, but she could tell that her friend wanted to talk to her about Lord Sneddon. So instead they returned to the house and went to Lavinia’s room which, Rose noticed, was decorated far more extravagantly than her own. For one thing, Lavinia had a canopy over her bed made from a soft glazed gold chintz, with the curtains looped over wooden arms fixed in the wall. At the windows, there were curtains in a floral chintz of regency pattern, complete with covered, shaped pelmets and the dressing table, considerably larger than the one in Rose’s room, was kidney-shaped with a drapery of muslin over chintz complete with a three-sided, gilt-framed looking glass fixed on the wall above, originally intended, Rose felt sure, for use over a mantelpiece in a small drawing room rather than in a bedroom.
‘What a lovely room.’
‘Yes it is, isn’t it? I always have this bedroom when I come to stay; it has great views over the garden and parkland, being so high up, as your does too, of course. I say, I hope you’re finding your room alright, I know it’s pretty small and not quite as lovely as this one, but I thought it would be such fun if our rooms were next to each other and we’re far enough away from Mother. It would be just so awful if her room was next to mine, she would be coming in all the time telling me how to behave and what to do and how to dress. Honestly, she treats me just like a child sometimes, you wouldn’t think I was twenty-two the way she goes on. I really think she thinks Cedric and I are still in the nursery. Poor Daddy, she treats him rather like that too. Still, he can always seek refuge in his library and I don’t think he listens half the time to what she’s saying to him. Oh, but enough about Mother. I want to talk to you about, Hugh … Viscount Sneddon,’ Lavinia giggled, ‘what do you think about him? Isn’t he gorgeous, just about the most handsome man you have ever seen?’
‘He is very good-looking,’ admitted Rose, ‘but I didn’t really get a chance to talk to him much. You two seemed to be getting on like a house on fire though’, she laughed.
‘Yes, he really couldn’t have been more attentive to me if he tried. And he is so fascinating; he knows lots and lots and has an opinion on simply everything.’
‘Do you know him well?’ enquired Rose curiously.
‘Not really,’ Lavinia flung herself down on her bed. ‘Cedric and he haven’t been friends that long, but Cedric’s brought Hugh to Sedgwick a couple of times when I’ve been there, but there’ve always been other guests there too. Before that I had seen him at the round of parties during the season, of course, but he was always surrounded by loads of people that I never really had the chance to make his acquaintance. This really is proving to be an unexpected opportunity. I just thought it would be a quiet weekend, just the two of us and Aunt and Uncle and Aunt’s dull old school friend. But I must say, I’m going to try and make the most of it. For once Mother and I are in perfect agreement; she’s desperate for me to marry someone like Hugh. Oh, to be a duchess. Just think, I could even lord it over Mother.’
Rose looked at her friend with some concern. It would do no good though, she thought, to tell Lavinia of her feelings of uneasiness when she had first met Lord Sneddon. It was difficult to put her finger on exactly what had unsettled her and Lavinia certainly wouldn’t thank her for it, she’d probably think Rose was just being jealous and perhaps she was right. No, it was better to keep quiet. She’d probably discover that she was being very unfair to the gentleman and he couldn’t really be that bad, not if he was a friend of Cedric’s.
Cedric. The name definitely had a certain ring to it. A few hours before it had been a very ordinary name which meant absolutely nothing to her; now it meant everything. Lavinia had spoken frequently of her brother and Rose, having seen his photograph in the society pages, had been interested to hear about his latest exploits. But everything was different now, now that she had actually met him. She couldn’t think or imagine any other man but Cedric. His presence seemed to fill the house and she knew that, whenever she thought back on this weekend, it would not be Lavinia that she would remember or Sir William or Lady Withers, or even the splendours of Ashgrove House itself and being waited on by servants; no, she would remember it as the moment when she had met Cedric. Her life would forever be split into two parts, the time before she met Cedric and the time after. Right now she did not feel that she could ever be interested in any other man. It was so silly, of course, and so very unlike her. She was being totally irrational and idiotic, for she knew that nothing could ever come of it, even if he happened, unlikely though it was, to feel the same way about her as she did about him. Suddenly she wanted desperately to be alone so that she could give herself up fully to her thoughts. So strong was the urge that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from leaving the room with Lavinia, totally oblivious to her internal turmoil, still in mid conversation.
‘…. so you see, Rose,’ Lavinia was saying, ‘I say, are you alright? You don’t look quite yourself, you’re all flushed.’
‘It’s nothing, I’m just a bit tired that’s all. I thought I might have a quick lie down before we have to dress for dinner.’
‘Jolly good idea, I might do the same. We’re bound to stay up late with Cedric and Hugh being here. We’ll be sharing Martha, who’ll be acting as our lady’s maid. She’s a house parlour maid really, but quite good; she’s acted as lady’s maid for me before when I’ve not brought Eliza with me. Do you mind if she sees to me first? My dress is a bit fiddly to do up and I need her to arrange my hair. I’m desperate to look my best tonight. I want to make the right impression, after all. You’re used to dressing yourself anyway, aren’t you, although I dare say you don’t usually dress for dinner?’
When Rose got to the door she hesitated and turned back.
‘Your brother’s awfully pleasant, Lavinia.’
‘Yes, he is, isn’t he?’ Lavinia had now moved to sit in the chair in front of her dressing table and was scrutinising her face in the mirror. ‘He’s nice to simply everyone; he has an absolute knack of putting everyone at their ease, everyone’s always talking about it. Mother finds him a complete godsend when she has some awkward guest come to stay at Sedgwick and all my girlfriends simply adore him. They’re all quite sure that he’s in love with them, it’s an absolute scream. And the funniest thing is, Cedric has absolutely no idea the effect he has on women; he really is a complete innocent. Mother’s always convinced that some very unsuitable girl is going to take advantage of him.’
‘Goodbye, I’ll see you later, Lavinia.’
‘Yes, absolutely, I’ll knock on your door and we can go down together. The dinner-hour here is a quarter to eight because Aunt and Uncle are terribly old-fashioned, I’m afraid. They’ll want us all to meet beforehand in the drawing room before we go in to dinner. But Cedric and Hugh mentioned the four of us meeting twenty minutes earlier so we can have cocktails.
As the door closed behind Rose, Lavinia abandoned looking at her reflection in the mirror and looked instead at the closed door, her thoughts on her friend. She frowned, notwithstanding her constant fear that pulling such a facial expression might cause wrinkles. For one brief moment, the gesture obliterated her beauty.
‘My dear,’ said Sir William walking into his wife’s room while dressing for dinner that evening, ‘how is Edith now? Did she get over her shock?’
‘Oh, for goodness sake, W
illiam, how you men do fuss over her,’ replied Lady Withers, slamming her hairbrush down onto the dressing table. ‘Why, I think that woman’s got you all wrapped around her little finger with her helpless act. I appreciate it must have been a bit of a shock to see Cedric again, but really, she does make such a song and dance about everything. I knew she would, which is why I was so anxious about Cedric coming to stay in the first place, but when I told you, you didn’t seem that concerned about it. There’s no point worrying about it now, William, it’s far too late.’
‘You’re quite right, my dear, but even so I’d like to know she’s got over the shock.’
‘As far as I know, she has. I left Lavinia’s little friend to sit with her a while. According to her, Edith soon rallied and intends to join us for dinner.’
‘I see.’ Sir William sounded hesitant, even to Lady Withers.
‘Oh, do stop fussing, darling. She’ll have to do it sometime. If it’s not tonight, it’ll be breakfast tomorrow or lunch or dinner. She’ll have to get it over and done with sometime, so she might as well do so now. And Cedric will be quite sweet about it all, you know he will. The dear boy will probably go out of his way to be especially nice to her so that she doesn’t feel embarrassed.
‘And the precedence for dinner has all worked out rather well. Stafford’s sorted it all out for me, because you know how confused I get about who you as host should be escorting to dinner and who should go next and suchlike. He’s written it out for me, least I forget. Now let’s see.’ Lady Withers picked up a piece of paper from her dressing table and peered at it short-sightedly, ‘I really must have a word with Stafford about his writing, it’s much too small, one can hardly read it; now let’s see. Yes, you as host will take in Marjorie, because she’ll be the lady of highest rank present. Next I, as hostess, would have been taken in by the gentleman of highest rank, but unfortunately we are going to end up with a partnerless lady as there is an odd number of guests. I did try and think whether there was anyone among our acquaintance that we could ask to dinner as a stop-gap, who would also be a good conversationalist, but I could only think of Doctor Marsden and he is otherwise engaged. Next time I really must insist to Edith that she brings Harold. It really is most unfortunate because really the number of men and of ladies should be equal and Stafford told me that if the number must be unequal, it is better to have more men than women.
01 - Murder at Ashgrove House Page 10