But he knew that his beautiful daughter should have her chance to appear in the Social world, which she would undoubtedly take by storm.
He had known that to leave home would disrupt the happiness he and his wife found together in the quietness of the country.
It was therefore with a sigh of relief he learned Lais could make her debut with her Godmother.
By the end of the season Lais had outshone every other debutante.
It was then she announced that she was going to marry Lord Barnham.
Mena had thought it all very exciting until she met the prospective bridegroom.
To her Lord Barnham seemed old and very pompous and somewhat tentatively she had asked her sister,
“Are you really in love with him, Lais?”
Lais, who had been regarding her reflection in the mirror, replied,
“He is very rich, has a very important position at Court and the tiara I shall wear amongst the Peeresses at the Opening of Parliament is absolutely dazzling!”
It was not an answer to the question Mena had put to her.
Yet she had known that no matter what the family might say Lais intended to marry Lord Barnham.
Lais had said before she left home that she felt they lived in ‘the back of beyond’.
She had been determined to marry somebody important.
Mena’s head on the contrary had been filled with romantic stories of love, which she associated with a Knight in Shining Armour. who slew a dragon to save a lovely Princess.
There were also gallants who climbed up the side of a house to reach the balcony where they could steal a kiss from a beautiful damsel.
She could not imagine Lord Barnham performing either of those exploits.
But if he was what Lais wanted, that was what she would have.
Lais’s wedding, which was spectacular, had taken place in London in the heart of Mayfair.
“I should have thought that Lais might have been married from here,” Mena had said to her father. “The garden is so lovely in the summer and Mrs. Johnson is so disappointed that she will not be baking the special Wedding cake.”
Instead they had travelled to London to stay with Lady Winterton.
She had already booked St. George’s Church in Hanover Square for the Ceremony and arranged for the Reception to take place in her house.
It had been one of the most prestigious Weddings of the year and every pew was packed with smart and distinguished people.
Lais had moved up the aisle on her father’s arm wearing a gown that Mena thought must have cost a King’s ransom.
She had thought that every woman in the congregation was looking at her sister either critically or with envy.
When they had returned to the country her father had said,
“Now we can get back to doing something really interesting. I have never listened to so much inane conversation and boring platitudes as I have these last few days!”
Mena laughed.
“You are being very censorious, Papa!”
“And with reason,” her father replied. “I find it extraordinary that any daughter of mine should tolerate anything so tedious.”
Mena did not answer.
She was thinking that her sister would not find her new life tedious, in fact very much the opposite.
The night before the Wedding, when she had gone to Lais’s bedroom to say ‘goodnight’, her sister had said,
“Think how important I am going to be, Mena, and think how rich George is. I can have the smartest gowns in the whole of London and, when we do have to go to the country, I will fill the house with George’s friends who are all as distinguished as he is!”
“Will you not – find them a little – old?” Mena had asked hesitatingly.
“I find them socially significant and that is all that matters!” Lais replied.
Mena had watched her sister drive away on her honeymoon with Lord Barnham.
She found, as she looked at him, that he made her shiver.
How could Lais, who was so lovely, possibly be in love with a man who looked old enough to be her father? And he was already beginning to go bald.
Mena could not help wondering if Lais would feel differently about him when she came back from her honeymoon.
But she never had the chance to ask her.
The extraordinary fact was that from the moment she married Lais, to all intents and purposes, disappeared.
She sent her father and mother presents at Christmas and there was also something small and rather trivial for Mena.
She wrote letters to them very occasionally and answered one out of a dozen they wrote to her.
Then Lord Mansforde died unexpectedly during a very cold winter in which he had developed pneumonia.
Mena had thought that Lais would at least come to the funeral.
Instead she sent a very large and expensive wreath and with it was a letter explaining that Lord Barnham and she had at that time been invited to stay Sandringham for a shoot.
She was sure that her mother would understand that she could not refuse to be a guest of the Prince of Wales.
And it was quite an affectionate letter.
At the same time Mena could not help thinking that Lais was relieved to have a good excuse for not coming home.
And yet incredibly, now, when she least expected it, Lais had appeared, looking, Mena thought, lovelier than she had ever seen her.
There was very little resemblance between the sisters.
Lais had taken after her father’s side of the family.
Her hair was dark, while her eyes were astonishingly blue, just like her mother’s.
The contrast startled everyone who saw her and any man who looked at her always looked again.
She was very elegant, taller than Mena, and she had a grace that might have been Greek.
Moreover, as if in sympathy with her father’s obsession, she had perfect classical features.
Dressed in the very latest fashion with jewels sparkling in her ears and at her throat Mena could only stare at her.
She found it hard to believe that she was real.
“If I have grown older, Lais,” she said, “you have grown even more beautiful than you were before.”
Lais smiled.
“That is what everybody says,” she replied, “and now, like you, I am out of mourning and I intend to enjoy myself.”
“Out of mourning?” Mrs. Mansforde repeated. “What are you saying?”
“Really, mother, do you never read the newspapers?” Lais asked. “Surely you are aware that George died just a month after Papa?”
“I had no idea of it!” her mother answered. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry.”
“Why did you not write and tell us?” Mena asked.
“There was no need for you to make a fuss about it,” Lais said sharply. “George was buried in Yorkshire where his family house is situated and it would have been quite unnecessary for Mama to travel all that way for the funeral.”
“I am sorry, so very sorry,” Mrs. Mansforde said gently. “You must have been very unhappy.”
“Yes of course,” Lais agreed quickly. “But there is no sense in drooling over the past and one has to look forward to the future.”
“I feel there is no future – for me,” her mother said with a little sob.
“I can understand that,” Lais said, “but as far as I am concerned, my future is very important and that is why I am here.”
She sat down in an armchair as she spoke.
Mena sat on the end of the sofa where her mother was lying.
“You will realise, I am sure, Mama,” Lais went on, “that now I am no longer in mourning I have to think about myself very seriously.”
Mrs. Mansforde looked surprised, but Mena asked,
“Where have you been since your husband died? If you could not entertain or go to parties – why did you not come home?”
“Come back here?” Lais asked in surprise. “Why should
I do that?”
“I just thought,” Mena said, a little abashed, “that you might have wanted to see us.”
“I had a better idea than that,” Lais replied. “I have some friends who live in France, so I went first to their Château in the country and then on to Paris.”
Mena gave a little gasp.
It was something that she had never thought of anyone doing when they were bereaved.
She realised from the way her sister spoke that there was no need for restrictions or for people to be surprised if she enjoyed herself.
“Now that I am back,” Lais was saying, “I have come to tell you that I intend to marry the Duke of Kernthorpe.”
Mena drew in her breath and her mother said,
“I am so glad, my dearest, that you have found somebody who will make you happy.”
“Very happy,” Lais nodded.
“And you are going to marry him – at once?” Mena asked.
She wondered as she spoke if it was not really too soon after the death of Lord Barnham.
There was a pause before Lais responded,
“Nothing is arranged yet. In fact to be honest the Duke has not yet asked me to be his wife.”
Mrs. Mansforde looked at her daughter.
“But you said – ”
“What I said, Mama,” Lais interrupted, “is that I intend to marry him and it is only a question of time before he proposes.”
There was silence before Lais went on,
“We have seen quite a lot of each other and where do you think I am staying at the moment?”
Mena thought quickly and then exclaimed,
“Kerne Castle!”
“Of course! And that is why I was able to drive here to see you.”
When making out her list of neighbours, Mena had not thought of Kerne Castle or the Duke of Kernthorpe.
He had never been a friend of her father’s, in fact she could not remember ever having met him.
Of course she was aware that Kerne Castle was only seven miles away.
And most people in the County spoke of the Duke with bated breath.
He was obviously very important, but he also, as people said ‘kept himself to himself’.
He played little part in County affairs as he was more concerned with his position in London and with his racehorses at Newmarket.
He also, she knew, had a Hunting Lodge in Leicestershire.
“It used to be different in the old days,” Mena had heard people complain. “The old Duke were a very congenial man and the Duchess always opened the Flower Show and gave a Garden Party in the summer.”
The present Duke was a stranger to them and Mena wondered if, like Lais, he found this part of the country dull.
Almost as if she had asked the question, her sister answered it.
“The Duke has not spent much time at Kerne Castle,” she said, “and now that I have seen it, I don’t blame him for preferring London and his other houses.”
“It would be delightful to have you living so near us, dearest,” Mrs. Mansforde said gently.
“Well, I am here now,” Lais went on, as if what her mother had said was immaterial, “to ask you. Mama, to come and stay at Kerne Castle and meet the Duke.”
Her mother stared at her in astonishment.
“But surely,” she said after a moment, “he can come here?”
“Don’t be stupid, Mama!” Lais exclaimed. “He has a large house party and I can hardly drag him away just to meet you! When I told him how old our house was and to what a distinguished family I belong, he said unexpectedly that he would like to meet my mother.”
“That is very kind of him,” Mrs. Mansforde smiled.
“Kind?” Lais questioned her. “It’s not a question of kindness, Mama. You have to understand that the Duke is making sure that his next wife is the right person for the great position he can offer her.”
“His next wife?” Mena exclaimed.
“Of course he has been married before!” Lais said sharply as if her sister was being very stupid. “He was married when he was quite young to a woman chosen for him by his parents because they considered her eminently suitable for their son. I gather, although he rarely speaks about it, that the marriage was not happy and his wife died having a miscarriage.”
Mrs. Mansforde made an expression of sympathy and Lais went on,
“Of course I can give him an heir, which is what he needs, and I am quite certain, having looked at the portraits, that I will be the most beautiful of all the Duchesses who have preceded me.”
“Of course you will,” Mena said. “At the same time it seems strange that Papa never knew the Duke. How old is he?”
There was a little pause before Lais replied,
“I suppose anyone can look it up in Debrett’s Peerage, but I think he is about forty-five.”
Mena stared at her sister in astonishment before she responded,
“But surely, dearest, that is rather old for you?”
“Really, Mena, don’t be so foolish! What has age to do with it? And William is still a very attractive man.”
She glanced at the clock over the mantelpiece and said,
“I must be getting back. The Duke has gone riding with some of the other members of the party and I must be there when they return.”
She rose to her feet and continued,
“I will send a carriage for you, Mama, at about two o’clock tomorrow afternoon so that you will arrive at The Castle in time for tea. Wear your prettiest gown and bring every jewel you possess.”
Mrs. Mansforde looked a little bewildered.
Then she asked,
“What about Mena?”
“Oh, Mena!” Lais exclaimed. “Surely she can stay here?”
“Of course she cannot,” her mother answered. “She would be alone and I am sure that you want her to come with me.”
The silence was so obvious that Mena said,
“I shall be – quite all right – here. How long is Mama going to – stay at The Castle?”
“I thought until Monday,” Lais replied. “That is when most of the guests will be going back to London.”
“I cannot come without Mena, dearest,” Mrs. Mansforde insisted.
She spoke in a firmer voice than she usually used and Mena looked at her in surprise.
“I will be all right, Mama,” Mena said again.
Mrs. Mansforde shook her head.
“Your father would not have allowed that and there is no time to find anyone else to stay here with you.”
“You are making it very difficult for me,” Lais protested. “I have not told the Duke that I have a sister, although I have often said how lonely I feel now that Papa is dead.”
There was silence.
Then because Mena felt that it was embarrassing she said,
“Perhaps I could – come with Mama to look after her – and no one need know that I am – your sister.”
She thought that there was a sudden light in Lais’s eyes as she went on,
“I could be her – companion – then there would be no need for me to eat in the dining room – but I could be with Mama when you did not – want her.”
“That is a splendid idea!” Lais said after a moment’s silence.
“I want Mena with me,” Mrs. Mansforde said, “and I cannot understand why you have not told the Duke that you have a sister.”
“It would take too long to explain it to you, and now I have to go,” Lais replied. “If Mena will act as your companion, then there will be no difficulties about her staying in The Castle.”
She walked towards the door and Mena followed her.
As they went into the hall, Lais said in a low voice,
“Mama does not understand, but I am playing my cards very carefully. I want to marry the Duke and I am determined to marry him. So please, Mena, help me and don’t make it any more difficult for me than it is at the moment.”
Mena’s heart melted.
“Of course I
will help you, Lais. I want you to be happy. And, as you have already said, you will be the most beautiful Duchess – there has ever been.”
Lais smiled at her.
“Thank you, Mena. I have a lot of clothes I can give you which I wore before I went into mourning. I might have thought of it before, but there was such a commotion, with George dying when he did and the family being unpleasant because he left me all his money.”
“So you are rich! Oh, dearest, how wonderful.” Mena exclaimed.
“It was only when I was shopping in Paris that I realised that because Papa was dead you might be hard up.”
“Things have been a little difficult,” Mena admitted, “but we have managed.”
“I will give you some money if you keep the Duke from knowing that you are my sister just while Mama is at The Castle. And I promise as soon as I get back to London I will send you the clothes.”
“Thank you, Lais. That is very kind of you.”
Lais put her hand on her sister’s shoulder and then as an afterthought kissed her cheek.
“You do understand,” she said, “that I have to marry the Duke. But I can assure you that there is a great deal of competition.”
“You will win, of course, you will win!” Mena said. “And I will be very very careful that no one guesses that I am your sister. After all we are not a bit alike.”
“That is exactly what I was thinking,” Lais agreed.
She walked towards the door.
Old Johnson was outside talking to the coachman.
Mena noticed that the four horses that drew the carriage that Lais had arrived in were perfectly matched and superbly bred.
She wanted to go out and pat them and talk to the coachman.
She thought, however, that it might be a mistake in case when he returned to The Castle he mentioned her to the other servants.
As Lais went down the steps and was assisted into the carriage by a footman, she moved back into the hall.
She knew that she would not be noticed and she thought that perhaps Lais would wave to her as the horses moved off.
But her sister merely leaned back against the cushioned seat and Mena watched the carriage out of sight.
Then she ran back into the drawing room.
Her mother was still reclining on the sofa where she had left her.
“You are going to Kerne Castle, Mama!” she said. “Is that not exciting?”
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