Just Fate

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Just Fate Page 3

by Barbara Cartland


  “I was just thinking,” Mrs. Mansforde replied, “how different I would feel if your father were with me. Oh, Mena, I do miss him terribly.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You cannot go to The Castle dressed all in black, Mama,” Mena declared.

  “What does it matter?” her mother asked. “I am only going to please Lais.”

  “Lais will be annoyed if you don’t look lovely,” Mena said sternly.

  She searched for the clothes that her mother had worn before her husband’s death.

  They had been tidily packed away and, when she found them, she knew that they were exactly what her mother should wear while she was staying at The Castle.

  Her father, being proud of his wife, had always been particular that she should look beautiful and he insisted that every gown she wore was not only becoming but also made of good material.

  Her afternoon and evening gowns were consequently just as fresh and attractive as they had been when they were new.

  Despite her mother’s protests, Mena had insisted on her trying on a number of garments that she had forgotten she had.

  When the carriage arrived, Mrs. Mansforde was looking ravishing in a gown she had bought for an important occasion.

  It was for a County meeting where her husband had especially wanted to show her off to the other guests.

  When Mena had re-trimmed her hat, she thought that Lais could not be anything but proud of her mother.

  “It is so ridiculous your coming with me as my companion instead of as my daughter,” Mrs. Mansforde kept saying.

  “Don’t worry about it, Mama,” Mena pleaded. “All I want is to see The Castle and, if possible, the Duke’s horses. And you know how disagreeable Lais will be if she does not get her own way.”

  Mrs. Mansforde sighed.

  “I am sure that is true, but when a woman is as beautiful as Lais, it is impossible for her not to believe that she is a Queen in her own right.”

  Mena laughed.

  “That is exactly what Lais is, so let her marry her King, even if he is only a Duke. Then we need not worry about her anymore.”

  She thought as she spoke that they had had little chance of worrying about Lais in the last four years and she knew that the way Lais had cut herself off from her family had distressed both her father and her mother.

  Mena was impressed by the carriage when it arrived.

  It was similar to the one that Lais had come in the day before, but had a team of almost white horses.

  “I feel like Cinderella going to the ball,” she told her mother. “All I need is a Fairy Godmother to wave her magic wand over me!”

  Mrs. Mansforde looked at her critically as if for the first time.

  “You look very lovely, my dearest,” she said, “but do you not think your hat is too plain?”

  “You have forgotten, Mama,” Mena said, “I am your companion. That is why I took off the flowers because I thought they were too frivolous.”

  Mrs. Mansforde looked upset and Mena said quickly,

  “Now don’t worry about me, Mama. Just make yourself charming to the Duke and, when we come home on Monday, we can laugh about everything that has happened to us.”

  There was silence for a few minutes.

  Then she said,

  “You must not forget, Mama, to refer to me, if it is necessary, as ‘Miss Johnson’.”

  “‘Miss Johnson’?” her mother exclaimed in astonishment. “Why should I do that?”

  Slowly and laboriously Mena explained that if anyone asked who she was she could not have the same name as her mother.

  It took her a little time to make her mother understand how important it was that no one should notice her.

  Then finally Mrs. Mansforde said,

  “But Johnson, why Johnson?”

  Mena laughed.

  “It was the first name I could think of that sounded dull and prosaic and I thought that, if the servants talked about Mr. Johnson, people might assume that I was a relation of his.”

  Her mother gave a cry of protest.

  “Of course they must not think that! Oh, dearest, why do we have to carry out this ridiculous charade of Lais’s? It is wrong quite wrong and I am sure that your father would be most displeased.”

  Mena knew that it was true.

  Her father had been very proud of his name and his antecedents. He would not think it at all amusing that his younger daughter was using the name of his manservant.

  Because she felt that it had upset her mother she said,

  “If it makes you feel happier, Mama, I will change it. What name do you suggest?”

  There was silence until her mother said,

  “Why not ‘Ford’? We will easily remember it because it is part of our name and it will not seem quite so wrong as using the name of one of our servants.”

  Mena though it was very clever of her mother to think of it.

  She therefore said,

  “Of course, Mama, I will call myself ‘Miss Ford’. But you may be sure that the Duke’s guests will not even know that I exist.”

  “It is wrong, I know it is wrong!” Mrs. Mansforde persisted.

  Because she did not want her mother to be upset Mena talked to her of other things as they drove on towards The Castle.

  She herself was very excited at the idea of seeing it for the first time.

  At breakfast her mother had said,

  “I remember now going with your father to The Castle soon after we were married.”

  “Oh, Mama, you did not say so to Lais!” Mena exclaimed.

  “It was a long time ago,” Mrs. Mansforde went on. “Your father had been asked to dinner to meet the Ambassador of Greece because the old Duke knew that he was interested in that country.”

  “I am sure Papa was thrilled,” Mena remarked. “Tell me what was The Castle like?”

  “I am afraid I can hardly remember it, but I recall driving there with your father and the lovely things he said to me when we were going home.”

  There was a note in her voice that Mena always dreaded.

  It meant that looking back into the past would inevitably bring on tears.

  “When we reach The Castle,” she said quickly, “you must try to find out why the Duke comes there so seldom and why he apparently has no interest in the affairs of the County. To me it seems rather strange.”

  “I know your father would think it most neglectful,” her mother replied. “He always said that absentee landlords were a great mistake and no one could expect workmen to do their best if their employers were not there to criticise or give praise when it is due.”

  Mena smiled.

  “That sounds just like Papa and it is what he did himself.”

  “He would be very upset if he saw the garden now,” Mrs. Mansforde said sadly. “I do wish we could afford another gardener.”

  “So do I,” Mena agreed. “But you know, Mama, it would be impossible to keep the horses too and I could not bear to have nothing to ride and you would miss dreadfully being able to go out in the carriage.”

  Mrs. Mansforde sighed, but she did not go on arguing.

  As Mena thought, she accepted things as they were because she felt too limp to suggest ways of improving them.

  Finally the horses turned in through two huge ornamental iron gates tipped with gold.

  They then moved down a drive bordered by ancient oak trees.

  And Mena craned her neck to have her first glimpse of The Castle.

  When she saw it, she realised that it was even more magnificent than she could have anticipated.

  With its huge Tower where the Duke’s standard was flying, it was exactly how she thought a Castle should look.

  The horses drew up with a flourish at the bottom of a flight of stone steps that led up to an impressive front door.

  As they came to a standstill, footmen ran down a red carpet before they opened the carriage door.

  Mrs. Mansforde stepped out and Mena, carrying her mot
her’s jewel case, walked behind her.

  At the top of the steps a butler bowed.

  “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he smiled. “I hope you had a pleasant journey?”

  “Very pleasant, thank you,” Mrs. Mansforde answered.

  “Her Ladyship’s waiting for you, ma’am, in the drawing room and the housekeeper will look after your companion, if she will kindly go to the top of the stairs.”

  Her mother gave Mena what she thought was almost a despairing look.

  With an obvious effort she followed the butler while Mena obediently went up the staircase.

  The housekeeper in rustling black silk with the silver chatelaine at her waist greeted her pleasantly.

  “I hope you’re not too tired after your journey. I always find travellin’ any distance gives me a headache.”

  “I enjoyed it,” Mena replied, “and the horses managed the distance surprisingly quickly!”

  “They go too quick for my likin’!” the housekeeper remarked. “It’s all too easy to have an accident in them narrow lanes.”

  She showed Mena into what she saw was a very pleasant room.

  But it was naturally not one that would have been offered to any of the Duke’s personal guests.

  “I think you’ll be comfortable here,” the housekeeper said, “and I’ll show you where your lady is sleepin’.”

  They walked for some distance to where an imposing and beautiful room had been allotted to Mrs. Mansforde and Mena found that it had a small sitting room opening out of it.

  “Lady Barnham suggested you’d like to have your meals in here,” the housekeeper said.

  “I hope it is not too inconvenient,” Mena said apologetically.

  “It’ll be quite easy to arrange,” the housekeeper replied, “though, as it happens, His Grace’s guests don’t often bring their companions with them.”

  Mena felt she ought to apologise for her mother doing anything so unusual, but the housekeeper went on,

  “Lady’s maids are, of course, to be expected, but I understand Mrs. Mansforde’s isn’t well at the moment.”

  Mena felt relieved and at the same time amused.

  She knew at once that this was Lais’s invention since her mother might not seem so important if she did not have a lady’s maid.

  “I can look after Mrs. Mansforde,” she said.

  “There’s no need for you to do that,” the housekeeper replied. “I’ve already arranged for one of the senior housemaids who I’m sure will give every satisfaction to wait on her.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Mena managed to smile.

  She looked into her mother’s sitting room, which she could see was lavishly furnished.

  There was a glass-fronted cabinet containing a number of books.

  They would be a delight, Mena thought, while she was staying at The Castle.

  She was also anxious to see The Castle itself and its contents as well as the grounds.

  The quick glimpse she had through the windows had already told her that the gardens were beautifully kept and she knew that her mother would be thrilled by them.

  The luggage was being brought up the stairs by footmen.

  She therefore went back to her own room to find that she too had been allotted a housemaid to do her unpacking.

  ‘Everything is certainly very comfortable here,’ she reflected.

  She hoped that her mother would enjoy it all.

  Mena had looked after her at home and the Johnsons did their best in a house that was far too big for them.

  She was sure that her mother would enjoy a household where everything ran on well-oiled wheels and there were well-trained servants to do everything that was required.

  She had taken off her hat and the light jacket she wore over her gown when a footman knocked on the door. He informed her that tea was waiting for her in her mother’s sitting room.

  She thanked him and found when she reached it that a delicious tea had been brought up.

  There were cakes that would have made Mrs. Johnson jealous and Mena ate quite a lot of everything that had been provided.

  She was standing looking out of the window when she heard her mother being shown into the bedroom next door.

  She waited until she was alone and then went through the communicating door.

  “Oh, there you are, Mena darling!” her mother exclaimed.

  It was exactly what Mena had been afraid she would say when the housekeeper was within hearing.

  “Be careful, Mama!” she warned. “You must not forget that I am ‘Miss Ford’.”

  “I had forgotten,” her mother said. “Oh, dear, why can we not just be ourselves?”

  “Tell me what is happening downstairs,” Mena asked.

  “There are already quite a number of people here,” Mrs. Mansforde said, “and they all seem very pleasant. One of them I did not catch his name said that he had known Papa.”

  “That was lovely for you!” Mena smiled.

  She helped her mother off with her hat and then undid the gown she was wearing.

  “I am going to rest before dinner,” Mrs. Mansforde then stated.

  “You have not yet told me what the Duke is like,” Mena reminded her.

  “He is out riding, so I have not met him. But Lais was very sweet and introduced me to all the guests who told me how much they admired her.”

  Mena helped her mother finish undressing and got her into bed.

  “Now try to sleep, Mama,” she said, “and I will wake you in plenty of time so that there will be no rush.”

  “Thank you, darling,” Mrs. Mansforde murmured and closed her eyes.

  Mena went into the sitting room and stood for a long time at the window.

  She wondered, if Lais became the Duchess, whether she would appreciate the beauty of the gardens, the woods that lay behind them and, of course, the great Castle itself.

  ‘I must see everything I can,’ she told herself.

  She then thought that when everybody was at dinner there would be time for her to explore the gardens.

  She wondered when she could expect her own dinner to be brought to her room.

  An hour later Mena woke her mother who had been sound asleep.

  All she could think of was making her look as beautiful as she had been in the old days when she had gone out with her father.

  She had chosen for the first night a gown that she had last worn at the local Hunt Ball. After it her father had declared she eclipsed every other woman present.

  Fortunately her mother had forgotten this occasion when he had been particularly proud of her.

  She allowed Mena to dress her hair and choose what jewellery she should wear.

  “I think it would be a mistake, Mama, to wear your tiara this evening,” Mena suggested. “I have always understood that the first night when people have just arrived is not the smartest evening.”

  “Yes, of course, you are right about that, dearest,” Mrs. Mansforde agreed. “And I would not wish to look overdressed.”

  It was at that moment that Lais came into the room.

  “Are you ready, Mama?” she asked. “I thought perhaps you would like me to come with you downstairs.”

  “Thank you, dearest,” her mother said. “I have never gone downstairs fully dressed without your father before.”

  Lais was not listening, but looking round the room to make sure that there was no maid present.

  “Are you all right, Mena? They are looking after you?”

  “Yes,” Mena replied, “and I know I have you to thank for it.”

  “I made it quite clear that you would have your meals in Mama’s boudoir,” Lais said.

  Mrs. Mansforde looked horrified.

  “Oh, but surely Mena can come down to dinner? I cannot bear to think of her sitting up here all by herself.”

  Lais frowned and Mena said quickly,

  “Of course that would be impossible, Mama. It has all been arranged and you know how uncomfortable I sh
ould feel with the guests looking down their noses at me because I am earning my living.”

  Mrs. Mansforde would have protested, but Lais said,

  “Now, don’t fuss, Mama. I have arranged that Mena will be very comfortable. All you have to remember is that she is your companion.”

  She turned to Mena to ask,

  “I suppose you have given yourself another name. I forgot about it yesterday when I came over to the house.”

  “I have thought of it,” Mena replied, “and Mama wants to call me ‘Miss Ford’.”

  “But, surely – ?” Lais began.

  “It will be easy for her to remember,” Mena pointed out, “and if somebody thinks I am a poor relation what does it matter?”

  “I suppose not,” Lais said reluctantly. “Anyway, if you keep out of sight, nobody is likely to ask who you are.”

  “No, of course not,” Mena smiled.

  Lais looked at her mother.

  “I like that gown, Mama. You look very pretty in it.”

  “That is what Mena said,” her mother replied.

  “I was just getting Mama’s jewellery out,” Mena said, “but I thought her tiara would be better left until tomorrow night.”

  “Good gracious, has she still got it?” Lais asked. “I thought it would have been sold by now.”

  Mena gave her a meaningful glance.

  “Papa saved for a long time to buy that tiara for Mama,” she said, “and it would break her heart to part with it.”

  Lais did not answer, she was looking in the jewel case and, Mena thought, disparaging its contents.

  “I thought I would put Mama’s two little diamond stars in her hair,” Mena suggested.

  “Yes, do that,” Lais agreed, “and she could wear her necklace, although it is not a very large one.”

  Mena remembered that as a child she had always thought it enormous, but knew it would be a mistake to say so.

  Finally, when she had finished and the jewel box was half-empty, Mrs. Mansforde was ready to go downstairs.

  She looked very lovely and very ladylike beside Lais who was as colourful as a peacock.

  Her gown was emerald green, which accentuated the darkness of her hair and the whiteness of her skin. And she wore a necklace of emeralds and a bandeau on her forehead of emeralds and diamonds.

  There were bracelets to match and earrings that glittered every time she moved.

 

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