Cavendon Hall

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Cavendon Hall Page 26

by Barbara Taylor Bradford


  The house was virtually deserted, since the entire staff had gone to the wedding. Hugo took hold of her arm and led her into the library. Once inside the room, Daphne put down her bouquet and looked at the piece of bone. On it were tied little bits of silver and white ribbon, and there were carvings down one side. “They’re little hearts,” Daphne said after a moment, showing it to Hugo. “Genevra’s strange, but she’s harmless.”

  Hugo studied the bone, and murmured, “Seven hearts altogether. What do they mean?”

  “Lots of love perhaps,” Daphne said, turning to him.

  “Then keep it safe.” Putting his arms around her, Hugo brought her close to him. “I love you, Daphne, with all my heart, now and forever, as long as we both shall live. I meant those vows I just made in church, I truly did.”

  “And so did I,” Daphne answered, standing on tiptoe, kissing his cheek. “And it will be all right. Don’t worry.”

  “Oh Daphne, I know that, my darling.”

  “I meant tonight. You and I together, starting our honeymoon here at Cavendon. It must begin tonight … our married life, I mean. I want it to be that way.”

  Hugo’s face was full of love for her as he handed her the bouquet of white roses, and led her out of the library.

  “We must go to the pink drawing room,” Daphne explained. “For the family photographs. And then after that we can relax and dance the night away.”

  “Not the whole night, I hope,” Hugo murmured, his smile suddenly flirtatious.

  “Don’t be a silly boy, I’ve better plans than that,” Daphne answered. And the look in her deep blue eyes told him everything he needed to know.

  Part Three

  FROST ON GLASS

  January–December 1914

  I’ll break and forge the stars anew,

  Shatter the heavens with a song;

  Immortal in my love for you,

  Because I love you, very strong.

  —Rupert Brooke

  We are dancing on a volcano.

  —Comte de Salvandy

  Forty-two

  Daphne gave birth to a baby girl in the South Wing of Cavendon Hall on Thursday, January 29, 1914, at three o’clock in the afternoon.

  The baby had a small pouff of blond hair on top of her shapely little head, and she was healthy and perfect in every way, very much to the relief of the mother.

  Daphne had been in labor for ten hours, and her silent but constant prayer had been for the safe delivery of a baby without any deformities or the slightest blemish. And her prayers had been answered.

  Now, two days later, on Saturday afternoon, Daphne was seated on the sofa in the pale green sitting room of the South Wing, holding the baby in her arms.

  She couldn’t stop looking at the little girl, constantly moving the lacy cashmere shawl slightly in order to study her small, delicate face, her tiny hands with those perfect minuscule nails. What a miracle the child was. Daphne overflowed with enormous love for this tiny creature who was hers.

  As she had recognized months ago, she would have never been able to give her away for adoption. This precious little bundle, all silky and pink, was part of her and always would be. There was an unbreakable bond between them that would last forever.

  Daphne was relieved she was a married woman with a wonderful husband who had claimed the baby as his own. Because of Hugo, the baby would be forever safe as his child, under his protection and bearing his name.

  The story given out was that the baby was premature, and everyone accepted this, whatever they actually believed. And Daphne and Hugo kept a cool front, turned a blind eye to any hint of gossip, and just kept on smiling serenely. As they were doing this afternoon.

  Hugo was sitting next to Daphne on the sofa, being charming to everyone, but occasionally giving his total attention to his child. He kept peering at her sweet face, love reflected in his eyes, and in his demeanor in general.

  Felicity was sitting in a chair next to Daphne, accompanied by Olive Wilson. The countess had been suffering from exhaustion, and was only now more like her old self. The arrival of the baby had brought smiles to her pale face, and a new lightness of spirit was evident in her.

  The Earl of Mowbray, the baby’s grandfather, was equally as happy as his wife, genial and outgoing today. Like Hugo, he kept glancing at the child in his daughter’s arms. He was fascinated by the new arrival, his first grandchild, who was the start of a new generation of Inghams.

  “You look positively radiant, Daphne,” Charles remarked at one moment. “You did have a bit of a rough time, I realize that. But you came through so well. I’m proud of you.”

  “And so am I,” Hugo interjected. “You’re a real trouper, darling.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “I wonder what’s happened to everyone? They were invited to come at three o’clock to see the baby, before afternoon tea is served.”

  The words had hardly left his mouth when Hanson appeared in the doorway, and announced, “Lady Gwendolyn has just arrived, m’lord, and so has Miss Charlotte.”

  “Thank you, Hanson. Do show them in, would you please.”

  “I will, Lord Mowbray. The footmen are helping them with their outerwear. I’m afraid it’s started to snow again, m’lord.”

  Charles nodded, glanced out of the window, and saw that the snow was indeed falling, and somewhat heavily.

  Charles and Hugo immediately stood up when Lady Gwendolyn came sweeping in, looking her usual elegant self. This afternoon she wore a gray wool suit and a blue silk blouse.

  After greeting her, Daphne couldn’t help chuckling. “I love the blue blouse, Great-Aunt Gwendolyn.”

  Lady Gwendolyn, acerbic and outspoken, also had a great sense of humor, and had the good grace to laugh when she said, “I chose it in order to reflect the baby’s eyes, don’t you know? And I do want her to feel at home, since you all wear blue most of the time.”

  “Oh, she does feel that, Aunt Gwen,” Hugo exclaimed. “In fact, she really is at home here in the South Wing. The other day Charles offered us the South Wing as a place to live, and we’ve happily accepted. We shall reside here permanently. I’ll not be buying Whernside House.”

  “You’ve made a wise decision, Hugo, and I like the idea of the three of you being here under one roof at Cavendon. And in walking distance for me.”

  As she was speaking, Lady Gwendolyn had glided across the room and she was already peeping at the baby in Daphne’s arms. “An Ingham through and through,” she announced. “I can tell from her thin wrists and delicate hands. They’re aristocratic.”

  “And so are her ankles,” Felicity interjected. “Slender and neat.”

  Charlotte came into the room, greeting everyone, then adding, “The weather is bad. I think we might be in for a snowstorm.”

  “Perhaps,” Charles said. “But don’t worry, Charlotte, Gregg can drive Aunt Gwendolyn and you back to the village later.”

  “Thank you, that’s very kind,” Charlotte replied, and went to join Daphne on the sofa.

  “Isn’t she sweet,” Daphne said, smiling at Charlotte, and moving the shawl. “Look, her mouth is like a little rosebud.”

  Charlotte could only nod, suddenly choked with emotion. The baby was beautiful, and she was safe, as was Daphne herself. How different things might have been if not for Hugo. Thank God he had decided to come to Cavendon at exactly the right time. What is meant to be is meant to be, she added to herself, believing this.

  Charles helped his aunt to sit down in a chair next to him, and then he swung around as Hanson appeared once again, announcing the arrival of Mrs. Alice, Cecily, and the earl’s three other daughters, Diedre, DeLacy, and Dulcie.

  Of course it was Dulcie who came bouncing into the room, as usual in a hurry to be the first, although she was obviously trying to be a bit more restrained than she normally was.

  When she came to a stop in front of Daphne, she said, “I want this baby, Daphers. Will you give her to me? Please.” She offered her favorite sister her biggest
smile.

  “I’m afraid I can’t, Dulcie dear. However, you can be her best friend. Yes, that’s a good idea, I appoint you her best friend. That’s a very special honor, and it means you can spend a lot of time with her.”

  “Ooooh, thank you, Daphs. YOU’RE THE SWEETEST OF THE SISTERS.” She shouted these last few words in a loud voice, then reverting to her normal speech, she added, “I’ll look after her careful.”

  “Carefully,” Daphne corrected, and smoothed her hand over Dulcie’s blond curls lovingly. “And when you’re grown-up and married, you will be able to have a baby of your own, just like mine.”

  “I’ll marry Hugo.” Dulcie looked across at him and smiled.

  He winked at her.

  “That’s not possible, darling, but I will find you a second Hugo, just for yourself,” Daphne promised.

  “Oh thank you,” Dulcie responded, and leaning forward she looked at the child and asked, “Why is her face all crumpled up like an old apple?”

  “Because she’s just two days old. Tomorrow she will be … uncrumpled, you’ll see,” Daphne murmured.

  Dulcie said, “I’ll come and check.” She ran across to her father, and climbed up onto his knee, settled against his broad chest.

  Daphne said, “Come along, Mrs. Alice, and you too, Cecily, come and see the little one.”

  They did as she asked, and admired the child, and exclaimed what a beautiful baby she was, and then DeLacy joined them. Immediately she cried, “She’s got a rosebud mouth. You should call her Rosebud, Daphers. Or Rose. Or Rosalie. Or Rosamund or Rosemarie.” DeLacy continued to laugh, as she added, “There are so many rose names. But what are you going to call her?”

  “I’m about to tell you,” Daphne replied.

  Diedre crossed the room in a sedate fashion, came to a standstill in front of Daphne, and looked down at the baby. Quite suddenly, unexpectedly, she moved the shawl away, revealing the baby in her long nightgown. “Lovely child, Daphne,” she said. “And quite a good size for a premature baby, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Quite the normal size for a premature baby,” Hugo cut in swiftly, his voice controlled. Being protective of Daphne, he was annoyed. He had discovered Diedre was a sourpuss with a mean streak, and it was obvious she was envious of all her sisters, and not just his wife.

  He fully understood why Dulcie didn’t like her and was afraid of her. Since they had been living in the South Wing, Hugo had befriended Dulcie, who was neglected by her mother, in his opinion. But then Felicity was recovering from a bout of exhaustion. He thought she looked on the edge today, and there was a faded air about her. Sometimes she seemed distracted, he thought, and acted very strangely at times. She had changed a lot lately.

  Once everyone was seated, Daphne handed the baby to Charlotte, and stood up. She walked across to the fireplace and beckoned for Hugo to join her.

  Together they faced the room and their guests, and Daphne said, “We’ve been calling our daughter Baby, as everyone else has, but we have been considering names for her. And now that we’ve settled on them we thought this afternoon was as good a time as any to reveal them to you.”

  “She has four names,” Hugo told them. “And lovely names they are, as far as we’re concerned. And very meaningful to us.”

  Daphne looked across at Alice Swann. “Baby’s first name is Alicia, and she will be called that. She is named in honor of you, Mrs. Alice. Because you have been so wonderful to me all my life, and especially lately.”

  Alice was so startled and touched she couldn’t respond, and her eyes filled with tears. After a moment, she said, in a trembling voice, “Thank you, Lady Daphne. You too, Mr. Hugo.” She paused, unable to continue, then after taking a deep breath she finished, “I am very honored.”

  “Her second name is Felicity, for you, Mama, and for all the reasons you know. Hugo and I hope this pleases you.”

  “It does indeed, Daphne and Hugo, and I thank you with all my heart.”

  Hugo now spoke. “We come to Baby’s third name. It is Gwendolyn, and she’s called after you, Aunt Gwen, because of what you have meant to me, especially as a child. And also to the entire family.”

  Lady Gwendolyn’s eyes were moist when she answered in the most surprised voice, “Thank you, Hugo, and you too, Daphne. I’m afraid I can’t say anything else. You see, you’ve knocked the breath out of an old lady, who for once in her life has been rendered speechless.”

  Everyone laughed.

  When the room was silent again, Daphne spoke. “Finally, we come to the last name, but by no means the least. It is Charlotte, and she’s named for you, Miss Charlotte. For your devotion and wisdom. And the help you’ve always given me … and for being a fine example of true Swann loyalty to the Inghams.”

  Charlotte was genuinely moved, and she choked up for a second, was unable to respond. Finally, she said, “Thank you, Lady Daphne, for those kind words, and how lovely of you both to give your first child my name. I’m so very touched.”

  Charlotte looked down at the sleeping child in her arms. “As a Swann I will always be there for her, whenever she needs me. I will protect her always.”

  Forty-three

  Hugo stood at the French doors in the library, looking out at the terrace. Except that he couldn’t see a thing. Frost on glass had made an intricate pattern, was blurring his view. It was already March but snow had been falling for several days now, and it didn’t look like stopping.

  Outside everything was covered in a blanket of pure white, and the surrounding countryside was beautiful, but it was hard to get around the estate, and the weather was icy cold. Fortunately Hanson had fires burning brightly throughout the house and there was a cheerful atmosphere.

  How glad he was he had not bought Whernside House. They would have been isolated out there in weather like this. Daphne had suddenly understood that, and she had also pointed out that the house was far too large for them anyway. Shortly after this conversation, the surveyors he had hired presented him with a bad report about the roof and the foundations of the house. All needed extensive work. That was that, as far as he was concerned. He agreed with Daphne they should pass on the house.

  Charles had invited them to live in the South Wing, and they had accepted with alacrity. He and Daphne had enjoyed being there so much Daphne had eventually told her father they would prefer to live at Cavendon permanently, rather than seek a home of their own. Nobody had been happier than the earl.

  They had soon discovered that the unusually beautiful South Wing was also comfortable and easy to manage, and it was private whilst still allowing them to be in the midst of the family, and with the downstairs staff readily available.

  Hugo was genuinely happy about the arrangement, and one of the reasons was that he would have to travel soon. He must be in Zurich for several meetings, and also in London. He had been putting the trip off, but now he would be leaving tomorrow. It was imperative.

  Knowing that Daphne and the baby were with her family made him feel comfortable and at ease about them. He loved them both very much, and he was filled with the kind of happiness he had not thought possible. He knew he was a lucky man.

  Charles came into the library, breaking into his thoughts. “I had Gregg drive to Harrogate and back,” the earl announced. “And I’m happy to tell you the roads are clear. He’ll have no problems driving you to the station tomorrow, and the trains are running on time.”

  “Thanks for doing that, Charles, and it’s good to know,” Hugo answered.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the Mayfair house?” Charles now stood in front of the fireplace warming his back, and he threw Hugo a questioning look.

  Walking over to join him, Hugo shook his head. “Thank you, Charles, it’s awfully good of you to offer. But I’ll be in London for only two nights. It’s not worth opening up the house for such a short stay.”

  Charles nodded. “Whatever suits you best, old chap.”

  “The reason I’m going to Switzerlan
d via London is to see my former personal assistant, Jill Handelsman. She worked alongside Ben Silver first, and then became my PA after his death. She and her husband came to live in London about five years ago, and I’ve stayed in contact with her. I’m hoping she’ll agree to find and open a London office for me, and run it.”

  “She’s that good, is she?” Charles raised a brow.

  “One of the smartest women in business I’ve ever met,” Hugo replied.

  Charles sat down on the Chesterfield and leaned back, his expression thoughtful. He said, after a moment, “I don’t mean to pry, but I’m curious. Why do you need a London office?”

  “I need a proper organization to handle my private money, and personal investments around the world. In other words, what I made myself, as opposed to what I inherited from the Silvers. Which is the whole real estate company, by the way. This is run in New York by Leonard Peters, who has been president of the corporation for years, even when Ben was alive. I’ve no worries about him; he’s doing a superlative job. He likes me to visit New York from time to time, but basically he’s in charge, reporting to me every week.”

  “And when do you plan to go to New York?” Charles asked. “And do you plan to take Daphne with you every time you go? You did tell me you wanted to travel back and forth.”

  “I did want to do that, but not anymore. I don’t believe it will be possible, or, quite frankly, very safe. The high seas are going to be highly dangerous, in my opinion.”

  “War? You’re thinking of war, aren’t you?” Charles stared at his son-in-law intently.

  Hugo nodded.

  “So the kaiser is ready to march?”

  “I believe he is. He’s building up the German navy, for one thing. And thankfully, Churchill’s doing the same with ours. He’s been doing that since he first became First Lord of the Admiralty in 1911. He’s very aware of the kaiser’s aims. As the Germans build one new dreadnought battleship, Churchill builds two for the Royal Navy. Then when Germany builds two, Churchill builds three.”

 

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