by Mary Nichols
Diana looked about her. The room was on the corner of the house which was covered in the ancient wisteria. It had windows on two sides, one of which looked out over the front drive. From the other Diana glimpsed a terrace and a lawn with colourful flower beds and beyond it the park with walks and trees. She noticed two men walking in the park. ‘Richard’s friends,’ Alicia said, following her gaze. ‘They live in the dower house on the other side of the grounds.’
So these were the so-called disreputable friends! They looked perfectly normal to Diana.
‘My mother should be living there,’ her guide went on. ‘But my brother, Lord Harecroft, will not let her live there with only servants for company.’ She chuckled suddenly, a sound that reminded Diana of Richard. ‘He thinks she would get into mischief.’
Diana turned back from the window. ‘Do you know if my father has arrived?’
‘Oh, how remiss of me. You must be concerned about him. Yes, a message arrived about an hour ago that he had arrived and been made comfortable. I am told he is very tired, but otherwise well. You will no doubt want to see him as soon as possible but I should leave him to sleep tonight. Now, I will leave you to wash and change. Come down to the drawing room when you are ready.’
After she had left, Diana sank on to the bed with a head that was reeling with the sights and sounds she had experienced, and her whole body felt as if she was still swaying in the coach. For two pins she would have dropped back on the bed and gone to sleep, but she could not do that if she was expected to put in an appearance at supper. When her water came she washed and changed into one of her mother’s altered gowns, a rose-coloured silk trimmed with cream embroidery and matching lace and had just finished brushing and arranging her hair when she was startled by a knock on the door and Mathilde entered and said her ladyship wished to see her in her boudoir.
Lady Harecroft was dressed to go down to supper in a gown of purple silk, a black widow’s cap on her white hair. There were diamonds at her throat and on her fingers. She looked Diana up and down. ‘Charming,’ her ladyship said, appraising her. ‘Do you not think so, Richard?’
Diana had not noticed Richard in the shadow by the window, but now he came forward with a smile. He was dressed for dinner in a black evening suit, white waistcoat and mulberry-coloured cummerbund. ‘Yes, indeed. Miss Bywater has excellent taste,’ he said, the intensity in his blue eyes causing Diana to glance away, hoping she was not blushing.
‘Did you have a good journey?’ the old lady asked her. ‘Did Richard look after you?’
‘Yes, thank you, my lady. The journey was very comfortable and Mr Harecroft arranged everything beautifully.’
‘Good. Do you like your room?’
‘Yes, very much. I can see some of the gardens and grounds and the woods from the windows.’
‘We will explore tomorrow,’ Richard said.
‘Tomorrow I shall have to learn my duties and also I want to go and see my father.’
‘As she is so fond of telling us, she is an employee,’ Richard said, addressing the dowager. ‘And is determined we shall not forget it.’
‘Fustian! There will be time for everything.’
The sound of a gong in the distance alerted them to the fact that supper would soon be served. Richard picked the old lady up with easy grace and carried her from the room, followed by Diana. ‘I could walk,’ the old lady said, laughing. ‘But I like to keep my grandchildren and great-grandchildren on their toes.’
At the bottom of the stairs, he set her down and offered his arms, one to the old lady and one to Diana, and thus they entered the drawing room. Everyone had already assembled and so their entrance was dramatic. Diana stood erect and proud in the doorway, her mother’s gown shimmering about her feet, her red-gold hair piled into a becoming coronet with a few wayward curls about her ears. It was a moment before anyone spoke. ‘Richard, do the honours,’ the dowager commanded.
He led Diana forward to a couple who could only have been the master and mistress of Borstead Hall, Lord and Lady Harecroft. ‘Grandfather, Grandmother,’ he said. ‘May I present Miss Diana Bywater?’
‘How d’e do,’ Lord Harecroft said, smiling as she bobbed a curtsy. He was white-haired, his face lined, but his carriage was upright and his way of speaking clipped as if he had other things on his mind than making polite conversation.
‘Miss Bywater, you are welcome,’ the younger Lady Harecroft said, coming forward to take both Diana’s hands and look at her with arms extended. She was dark and petite and dressed in lemon yellow trimmed with green. ‘How pretty you are. No wonder Stephen sings your praises. I am sorry he is not with us, but my son keeps his nose to the grindstone, though I imagine you know all about that, working as you do in the business.’ She gave an embarrassed little laugh. Ladies who worked were a complete mystery to her.
‘You have already met my Great-Aunt Alicia,’ Richard said, moving on.
‘Yes, indeed. Good evening, Miss Harecroft.’
The butler came to announce supper was ready and they all moved off in file to the dining room. ‘Miss Bywater, sit here, beside me,’ the younger Lady Harecroft said. ‘Then you can tell us all about yourself. I believe your father was a sea captain, but what about your mother—did she come from a good family?’
‘I have always thought so, but she never told me she did. She was always very genteel and ladylike and knew how to conduct herself in every kind of situation. She and Papa were devoted, which is why her death hit him so hard. You see, he had no family. He does not talk about his childhood very much, but he told me he did not remember his parents and was brought up in an orphanage.’ She paused as she saw the dowager’s eyes widen in surprise. It stiffened her spine; she was not going to be cowed. ‘If you are looking for a pedigree, my lady, I am afraid I must disappoint you.’
‘Do not be so prickly,’ Richard said. He, too, had seen the effect Diana’s words had had on the dowager. But surely, if the girl was up to no good, she would have invented a background that would satisfy the family? He was leaning more and more to the conclusion that she was genuinely who she said she was and it would all end in tears.
She turned sharply towards him. ‘I am simply stating facts. I have nothing to hide.’ And then blushed furiously, thinking about her father’s affliction, which she was most definitely trying to hide. As far as she knew, only Richard was cognisant of that and, for all his haughty ways, she trusted him. She turned back to Miss Harecroft. ‘I will tell you anything you want to know about my own childhood, but cannot enlighten you about my father’s or my mother’s, simply because I know so little.’
There was silence after this and then the conversation picked up again when Richard, to change the subject, asked his grandfather about the chances of North Wind, a horse belonging to the dowager, winning at Ascot races later in the week.
‘Good, I think,’ his lordship said. ‘Depends on the ground.’
They talked a little about the horse and after that the conversation ranged from the coronation and the Queen’s rift with her mother, to the likely yield of corn in the coming harvest and the tension was eased. Diana, who was sitting opposite Richard, was acutely aware of him. Whenever she looked up from her plate she found him looking at her, a quizzical look on his face.
When the meal was finished, the ladies retired to the withdrawing room to take tea, but were soon joined by the gentlemen. After a few moments’ polite conversation, Richard carried the dowager back to her room and then returned to bid them all goodnight. Diana assumed he was going home to the dower house. She was left with Lord and Lady Harecroft and Miss Harecroft, who talked about the old lady’s party and how the arrangements were coming along. ‘I sincerely hope she does not overtax her strength with it,’ Lady Harecroft said. ‘But there is no gainsaying her.’
‘Oh, Mama is tough as an old boot,’ Alicia said. ‘But she is up to something, I know she is, but whenever I ask, she simply taps the side of her nose and says, “Wait and see.”’
/>
‘Then that is what we must do,’ William said, getting to his feet. ‘I have work to do in the library, so I will leave you ladies to your gossip. Goodnight, Miss Bywater.’
‘Goodnight, my lord.’
After he had left, the conversation became desultory and it was not long before the ladies also said goodnight and Diana made her way to her room.
Lying in the huge canopied bed, with the curtains drawn back so that she could see the star-filled sky, she mused on her day. Richard had been a thoughtful and courteous companion, not talking too much or too little, but she had learned enough about him to feel sympathy for the small boy he had been and the reserved adult he had become. Beneath his sombre exterior beat a heart full of compassion. Why did his father not understand that? Why did he assume that the exterior was all there was to his elder son? How close was Richard to Stephen? She realised with a start she had hardly given Stephen a thought all day. Soon she would have to give him an answer. What was she to do?
Chapter Six
‘You’ll soon get used to everyone,’ Alicia said, after they had been to early morning service with Lord and Lady Harecroft and she was conducting Diana round the house. The dowager had not attended church and neither had Richard or his friends.
The servants occupied the back of the house, working in the kitchens and usual domestic offices. There was a strict hierarchy among them, from Mr Catchpole the butler, Mrs Shaw the housekeeper, Mrs Evans the cook, two footmen, chambermaids, parlour maids, kitchen maids, a tiny skivvy called Milly and an even smaller backhouse boy who cleaned the boots and shoes and ran errands. Diana wondered where she fitted in. She could not imagine why they needed her.
‘The servants have their allotted tasks in the running of the house,’ Alicia said when Diana voiced her doubts. ‘The help I need from you is with the organisation, making suggestions and reminding me if I have forgotten anything. The invitations have all gone out and almost every one has been accepted.’ She gave a light laugh. ‘Being entertained at Borstead Hall is considered a rare treat.’
‘I am sure it is,’ Diana murmured, still bemused by the situation in which she found herself.
‘There will be two parties,’ Alicia went on. ‘One for the staff, tenants and villagers to be held in the barn of the Home Farm and the other for family and close friends which will naturally take place here in the Hall.’
‘Won’t the servants be needed to help in the house?’ ‘They will for the preparations, but the hired staff will take over from them when everything is ready. I have made a start on the menus and arranged for musicians to play for dancing, but the details have yet to be decided upon. Then there are flowers to be arranged, extra chairs and tables to be brought in, temporary servants to hire and bedrooms to be readied for those of the family staying the weekend, so you see how invaluable your help will be. You and I will meet each morning to decide on what is to be done that day. I do not expect it to be too onerous, so you will have plenty of time to explore and visit your father. Now I will take you to see my mother. She is anxious to see you again and satisfy herself that you are being looked after.’
The old lady was sitting in the window of her boudoir dressed in a dark blue silk peignoir. Her white hair was piled up on top of her head on which was perched a tiny black cap. She beckoned Diana towards her and indicated a chair placed facing her. ‘Sit there, child, where I can see you. Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, very well, thank you.’
‘What do you think of Borstead Hall?’
‘It is a lovely house.’
‘So it is. My husband’s grandfather had it built at the beginning of the last century, when he was given a baronetcy for some favour he had done the crown. My husband came to it through an uncle. But enough of that. Let us talk of the party. John and Stephen will come down on Friday and the rest of the family on Saturday morning. Other guests, some ninety in all, will arrive after dinner. There will be dancing in the ballroom and supper in the large dining room and cards in one of the drawing rooms for those who do not dance. And we shall round it all off with fireworks. I am sure you will enjoy it.’
‘I came here to work,’ Diana reminded her. Even though it was a Sunday, she had put on one of her grey business dresses in order to let everyone know she had no pretensions about what her role was to be.
‘Oh, I know that. How else could I get you here when you were so determined to decline the invitation?’ It was said with a smile bordering on mischievous.
‘You are expecting me to accept Stephen…’
‘That is up to you. I will bring no pressure to bear.’
It was all very well for the old lady to say that, but the very fact that she had been persuaded to come was pressure of a kind and she was still mystified. She would have liked to ask questions, but did not think her curiosity would be satisfied; the old lady liked her mysteries.
‘How is your father?’ her ladyship asked, ‘Did he have a comfortable journey?’
‘I believe so, my lady, but I have yet to visit him. If you would allow me a little time…’
‘Goodness, child, take all the time you want. Go and see him now and convey my best wishes for his speedy recovery. I shall hope to meet him soon.’
‘Thank you, my lady.’
Diana rose and left her to find her way to the stables to fetch Toby and ask directions to the nursing home.
The sun was shining from a cloudless sky, the air was redolent with the scent of cut hay and hawthorn blossom. Toby scampered ahead of her, sniffing in the hedgerows, dashing backwards and forwards, enjoying the change from urban streets and grimy pavement. Diana followed a path through the wood which she had been told would lead her to the village.
She had not seen Richard since the previous evening and was curious about the occupants of the dower house. She could not go calling, it would not be polite without an invitation—besides, Mr John had warned against going—but if she should see anyone in passing, surely she could pass the time of day? Particularly if it were Richard. She realised quite suddenly that she was looking forward to seeing him again.
She left the trees and joined a carriageway and there was the dower house, a sturdy square brick-built building with neat gardens laid out with lawns and flower beds. At first she saw no one, then she heard a child’s squeal of happy laughter and a little boy ran round from the side of the house, chased by a young woman who was also laughing. She scooped him up in her arms. ‘Dick, you little terror. I’ll teach you to tease the cat,’ and she pretended to spank his bottom, which only made him laugh the more.
Diana was transfixed. The woman was lovely, dark-haired, dark-eyed, with an enviable figure, but it was not the woman who grabbed her attention, but the boy. About two years old, he had soft red-gold hair and bright blue eyes and features so like Richard’s, she was in no doubt in her mind he was Richard’s son and the woman was the child’s mother. That was what Stephen had been trying to tell her about his brother being a black sheep and why Mr John had warned her to stay clear of the dower house. It must have been hard to know one’s son and heir was living with his mistress only a mile away. Richard was obviously not ashamed of his affair or he would not have installed the woman in his home, so close to his family.
He ought to have told her when they were chatting so amiably in the carriage about his friends, then perhaps she would not have been so shocked. And she was shocked, shaken to the core. She thought she was getting to know him, that they might be establishing a rapport, but now she realised she did not know him at all. Disappointed and disillusioned, she hurried away and found the road to the village.
The nursing home was easy to find. It had been converted from a substantial villa and stood facing the village green with its pump, ancient stocks and a bench where an old man sat enjoying the sun. The house had a small well-kept garden and a neat signboard announcing it to be ‘The Borstead Convalescent Home for Recovering Gentlefolk’. Diana made her way up the drive and rang the bell.
‘Papa,’ Diana said, going forward to drop a kiss on his forehead as the matron withdrew. ‘How are you?’
‘Grand,’ he said. ‘A few weeks here and I shall be as good as new.’
‘Oh.’ She pulled a chair forward to sit beside him. A few weeks, he had said. What had he been told about the length of his stay? Once the week was over, she could not afford to keep him here. She had no idea what it was costing, but, looking around her at what could only be described as luxurious surroundings, she realised it must be very expensive. And what could she offer as an alternative? Another place like St Thomas’s, which was all very well for someone who was acutely ill, but not conducive to real recovery? Or cheap lodgings with someone coming in to look after him while she went to work? He would start drinking again and they would be back to where they were before she walked into the Harecroft Emporium on that momentous day just over a year before. She could not let that happen. Did it mean she was destined to marry Stephen? Could they have a happy life together?
‘That young fellow of yours has done me proud,’ her father went on. ‘You’ve done well for yourself there, my girl.’
