The Heir's Proposal

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by Maggi Andersen


  Addie waited at the door as Diana approached the bar. A man in a corporal’s uniform, who had been looking at them, spoke to her. Addie expected Diana to ignore him, but they talked for several minutes.

  She came back and took Addie’s arm. “Come on Duck. Let’s get home. I’m hungry. And I see you have brought eggs and cake and one of Cook’s pork pies!”

  Back at home, they settled in the parlor in front of the fire with a slice of pie, a slab of cake and a pot of tea, while Diana talked about life in London.

  Addie was so pleased for her. She had never seen Diana so animated and committed. It brought her alive. She couldn’t help but get caught up in it. “It sounds so exciting. I can’t wait to start work.

  A cautious expression crept into Diana’s eyes. “I’ll take you in tomorrow. You can meet the girls. And Joe, he’s our one fella who runs the printing press.”

  “I have much to learn. What jobs do you have in mind for me?”

  Diana dropped her gaze to the tea tray. “While I’m pleased as punch to have you here with me, perhaps you should look for more appropriate work.”

  Hurt by her friend’s bluntness, Addie stared at her. “Appropriate? You surely don’t believe because of my circumstances, I’m incapable of working?”

  “Don’t be daft. You are. You could do many things.” Diana frowned and poured boiling water into the teapot. “You are good at organizing events. You can drive and that alone makes you valuable to the army. And you’re a bit of a mother hen. What about nursing?”

  She watched Diana add tea leaves to the china teapot from a caddie. “I would like to know why you don’t want me to join you.”

  Diana frowned. “The last time I saw your father…” she paused while she poured out the tea and placed the cup and saucer before Addie. “A few weeks before your father passed away, he made me promise not to invite you to be part of any enterprise I decided on.”

  “He made you promise?” Addie searched her friend’s concerned eyes. “You know why. It was because he wanted me to marry Bryce. He’s always wanted it. And I disappointed him.” She took a sip of tea to wash down the lump in her throat. “But as I’m not marrying Bryce, you shouldn’t feel you must keep that promise. I know Papa would understand.”

  Diana poured herself a cup. “It must have been his reason. I’d hate to think it was purely male prejudice.”

  “My father wanted the best for me. It would horrify him to have upset you. You must realize he was not himself in those last weeks.”

  Diana put a hand on Addie’s arm. “I understand that, Addie. I really do.”

  “Papa came from a world which was fast disappearing. It frightened him.”

  “I believe it has already gone,” Diana said.

  “So that’s it?” Addie swallowed her disappointment with another sip of tea. She put the cup down feeling lost. “You don’t want to break the promise you made to him?”

  “I’m not at all sure he wasn’t right.”

  Addie scowled. “Not you too!”

  “Not for that reason.”

  “What reason then?”

  “Bryce. You care for each other.”

  “He’s my dearest friend, apart from you. But I’ve always suspected he feels for you as a man should for a woman he wishes to marry.” Their kiss beneath the mistletoe one Christmas. She’d never forgotten how enchanted Bryce was with Diana.

  “Where did you get that idea?” Diana shook her head. “I’m not in love with Bryce. There’s been nothing between us.” She drank the last of her tea from the chipped china cup and stood up. “Anyway, this conversation is irrelevant. They’ll send Bryce to France or Belgium into a danger zone. Who knows what might happen?”

  “Oh, don’t, please!” Addie bit her lip as tears filled her eyes.

  When she looked up Diana studied her face. She was cool, Diana, Addie realized. Tougher than her. “I promise I won’t mention it again. Have you finished your tea?” Diana went to the door with the tray. “We’ll tidy this away then I’ll give you our magazine. You can read it in bed.”

  Addie lay on the bed. It creaked alarmingly but seemed stable enough. She picked up the magazine and read eagerly. It was professional. She was proud of Diana. What an emancipated, clever woman she was. Modern women would lead the way after this war ended.

  An hour later, her eyes grew heavy. She put down the magazine and turned out her light. As she settled down, she heard a door shut below. It must have been the neighbors, she thought, yawning and drifted off to sleep.

  She woke up two hours later to hear footsteps on the stairs. A little frightened, she lay still, listening. Diana’s door opened and closed. Then Addie heard her light snap on. Diana. She must have gone down to the lavatory. Addie turned over and went back to sleep.

  Chapter Four

  Addie felt quite at home after working at the Venus Star Publishing House in Greenwich for three weeks. She and Diana rose early and took the bus every morning, their conversations always centered on the magazine. Diana often disappeared in the evenings. At first it had unnerved Addie, but then she decided it was Diana’s business who she saw and when.

  The Publishing house comprised two smallish rooms on the first floor of a dingy brick building on a busy road which had none of the glamor of Fleet Street. The fragrant smell of baking bread from the bakery on the ground floor wafted through the floorboards of the utilitarian gray-painted rooms, making them all complain of hunger. Coal had become expensive and heating a luxury, so they dressed in many layers of warm clothing. It was impossible to tell what shape anyone was underneath. Constant cups of tea helped keep them warm, and they held the cups clumsily in fingerless gloves. Every Friday for a treat, they took a hat around and threw in whatever they could afford toward jam scones and currant cakes from the bakery.

  There were three women at the publishing house, not counting Diana and Addie. Only Florence Grey was educated past grammar school, the other two having had to leave school to help their families. But there was nothing lacking in their eagerness to see the magazine do well. Marian Keith, a small bird-like woman, was the only one married. Her husband grudgingly allowed her to work. She went home at the end of each day to cook and clean before falling into bed. She admitted to being constantly tired. “But I wouldn’t give it up if the King told me to,” Marian said. “And my Horace doesn’t complain when I bring my wage home, small as it is!”

  At thirty-six, Florence appeared to be a practical, rather stoical woman. A widow from Clapham, she left her two young children in the care of her mother during the day. With no man to support her, and as she thought it unlikely, she’d marry again, Florence wished her daughters to have better opportunities in life than when she was young. “I married while the old queen was alive,” Florence said over their morning cuppa. “Sour old thing I thought her. We were told a woman should marry, and so I did. Ran a strict ship, my Ralph, even when home from the sea. He was a bad-tempered brute. He almost killed me once. I was glad when the sea took him.”

  Pretty Fran Brightmore was just sixteen. She’d lost her parents in a house fire six months ago. Everything she owned went in the fire and she had no relatives to take her in. Diana found accommodation for her before necessity forced her onto the streets. Fran was clever and learned quickly, Diana told Addie. She deserved a chance at life. Fran helped Joe with the typecasting. Her face was often a study of smudged ink and eagerness, and it did Addie’s heart good to look at her.

  Diana claimed them to be one for all and all for one, like the musketeers. They had regular meetings. Addie’s role in the business was an easy one to decide upon, her good education meant she was better qualified to write articles and edit any manuscripts that came their way. Many arrived in the post every day: reams of poetry, fiction and articles filled with social comment.

  Bryce still had not left England. It was some weeks before Addie saw him again. There had been some polite business discussions on the telephone concerning Langley, but there was no me
ntion of what had passed between them before she moved out.

  As Addie tidied up her desk, preparing to go home on Friday, Diana joined her. “We’re invited to a club tonight.”

  Surprised, Addie looked up, her hand paused over the open drawer. “What sort of club?”

  “A private one in Soho. The armed forces patronize it. There’s a popular musical group performing tonight. Brian Wells, an associate of mine, has offered to escort us.”

  Addie grinned. “How exciting. What will I wear?”

  “Something that shows off your charms,” Diana said. “Can it not be black?”

  Addie shrugged. She’d intended to wear black until a year had passed since her father died. But the whole of the country was in mourning.

  It was in one of the new nightclubs which had sprung up in London, catering to the soldiers on leave and Londoners determined to push the grim news from the war away.

  Addie came downstairs in her evening gown to find Diana dressed in blue patterned harem pants and a beaded top.

  “What do you think?” Diana turned slowly for Addie’s inspection.

  “You always said you would break new ground in fashion,” Addie said, impressed. “You look fabulous.”

  Diana studied Addie’s short sleeved lace dress. She’d added a long string of pearls to the cream satin bodice trimmed with black lace. “Well, black suits you, at least.”

  “Oh, you don’t like it?”

  Diana chuckled. “You could wear a sack and look good, Addie.”

  “Really?” Pleased, she donned her velvet evening wrap.

  Diana’s friend, Brian Wells, was a hearty man with ginger hair who worked for a Fleet Street newspaper. His gaze lingered on Diana and he whistled softly. He entertained them with amusing stories and had them laughing all the way to the club.

  The club was in the basement of a building in a back street, its walls covered with murals. An artist’s depiction of various Biblical scenes. They descended into the noisy depths.

  “Through there,” Brian yelled about the din. They entered a room crammed with people enjoying the band playing on a small stage. The air smelled of smoke, sweat and perfume. They fought their way over to a table and ordered champagne from a waiter.

  Sipping her straw-colored fizzy champagne, Addie watched the dancers performing a tango. Through the crowd on the other side of the room, she spotted Bryce dancing with a girl. She gasped. Her reaction surprised her. Why should it bother her that a part of his life was unknown to her? That he had never thought to mention his friends, or have her meet them? Addie knew nothing about his life now, apart from their conversations concerning Langley. How irrational she’d become. After she’d rejected his offer of marriage and as good as told him to get on with his life, she had no claim on him. She felt off kilter when Bryce spied her. He widened his eyes and nodded.

  The dance ended. He said something to his partner, then made his way over to her with a smile of greeting. How handsome he was with that shock of wavy black hair and his deep blue eyes! Had she never really seen him? And how strange, that in this unfamiliar environment it was as if she’d met him for the first time, that their relationship was on a different footing. But perhaps it was only she who thought it.

  Bryce pecked her on the cheek. “Addie, here with Diana?” She found his raised eyebrows provoking. He was obviously as surprised to find her here as she was to see him.

  “And Brian. They are over there.” She gestured to where they stood talking.

  “Not the place I’d expected to find you,” he said, confirming her thoughts.

  “Why ever not?” she asked nettled.

  “Not to your taste, perhaps.”

  “I love to dance,” she said pointedly.

  “I’m not fond of the tango. I prefer a waltz.”

  “Don’t be so stuffy. Your partner seemed to enjoy it.”

  “I prefer a dance where I can hold my partner close,” he said, lifting his brows. “I find the rest a bore.”

  She gave him an arch look. “Everyone is having fun. And so were you when I first came in. How often do you come here?”

  “First time tonight. Someone brought me.”

  “The lady you were dancing with?”

  “Some friends.” He frowned. “They’re selling drugs in the bathrooms.”

  “Gosh, I must rush in and get some before it’s all gone.”

  He shook his head. “You always were stubborn.”

  “And you always treated me as if I can’t think for myself,” she said heatedly.

  Bryce’s blue eyes widened. “Addie, that’s not true. I’m sorry if—”

  Diana appeared beside them. “Bryce.” She kissed him on both cheeks. “It’s good to see you.”

  Bryce raised his eyebrows. “And you, Diana. You’re the first woman I’ve seen in evening pants. I hope to see more of it.”

  “They’re called harem pants and many women will soon wear them,” Diana said. “How are things at Langley?”

  “Big and empty.” He glanced at Addie. “I confess I’m finding it a little lonely. You are welcome to visit anytime. I would be grateful if you would bring Addie. I still have many questions which need answers.”

  Addie had cooled down and regretted her temper. She was about to say she would come to see him next week when the woman Bryce had danced with came to stand at his shoulder.

  “Miss Allen, allow me to introduce Lady Adelaide Sherringham and Miss Stavely,” Bryce said. “Addie, Diana, meet Julia.”

  Miss Allen was a small brunette with sharp, but not unattractive features, and a curvy figure well displayed in the pink silk gown. She took hold of Bryce’s arm. “Bryce has told me so much about you, Lady Adelaide. You are cousins, I believe.”

  “Somewhat distant, but yes. Please call me Addie,” Addie said.

  “Then you must call me Julia.” She gazed up at Bryce with an appealing smile. “We had a lovely game of tennis this afternoon at Langley, didn’t we, darling? And then we lay about drinking gin. It was heavenly.”

  Bryce looked uncomfortable but said nothing.

  Diana registered her disgust at the woman’s insensitivity, turning her back and returning to Brian. Addie watched her go. Diana hated crafty woman and she felt for Addie. But Bryce was perfectly entitled to go out with whoever he wished. He was a free man.

  The other man in Bryce’s party appeared at his elbow. Bryce introduced Montague Standford. Mr. Standford took Addie’s hand and bowed over it. “Two lovely women? You are greedy, Bryce. And you have kept this charming lady to yourself. Why have we not met before?”

  “I didn’t wish to offer you any encouragement,” Bryce said, his smile strained.

  “Bryce tells me you’re a working woman, Lady Adelaide,” Mr. Standford said.

  “Yes, but only for the last few weeks,” Addie said, “Do you work with Bryce?”

  “Monty works for the government,” Bryce said in a flat, dismissive tone designed to put a stop to further questions.

  Monty was several inches shorter than Bryce and around thirty years old. He had a powerful build, his auburn hair slicked back from a broad brow. His eyes were black. Brash eyes that appraised her, making no secret that he liked what he saw. He stood erect, and the way he held himself, as if always on the alert, made her suspect there was much more to him than a rakish man about town. Army perhaps? But not in uniform.

  He kept hold of her hand while his smile transformed his face into one of dangerous charm. Beware, she warned herself. She returned his smile and attempted to pull her hand from his grasp. Monty pressed a kiss to the back before releasing it.

  Addie wondered what Bryce would think of such an act, but turning, found he had left Julia and gone over to Diana. They were speaking earnestly, his head bowed close to hers. She watched them for a moment, an odd tugging over her heart harking back to the times when she expected them to become a couple. Whatever they discussed; they didn’t agree on. Diana shrugged and Bryce scowled.

&nbs
p; “Have I lost your attention? I must be losing my charm.” The rich tone of Monty’s voice brought her back.

  “I’m sorry. You were telling me where you were from?”

  “Was I? The family came originally from Romania. It’s not a very interesting story.’ He smiled. His black eyes were impossible to read. He was a little unsettling, this man, she thought. She had never met his like before. What did he do for the government? She doubted he’d be in the diplomatic service. She would ask Bryce, although he probably wouldn’t tell her.

  “You look good in black, Lady Adelaide. Few women do. Chantilly lace?” He gestured to her black skirt.

  “How knowledgeable you are about fabrics, Mr. Standford.” She suffered an urge to step back, expecting an oafish attempt to touch her, but he made no move toward her. She suspected Mr. Standford knew rather a lot about women.

  “My sisters are fond of couturiere fashion. They love to display their finery at the races. Are you attending Ascot next week?”

  “Yes, Diana and I never miss it. Horses are a passion of mine,” she said.

  “Life offers many passions, Lady Adelaide. I am in a party with Lord Lungren. You know of him?”

  “Yes. He was a friend of my father’s.”

  “I was sorry to hear about the earl. Very sad. You must miss him.”

 

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