The Midnight Rose

by Lucinda Riley

  Rebecca only had to read another two entries before she knew for certain that ‘A’ was Anahita. She glanced upwards and gave an ironic smile to the heavens.

  ‘You led us both here, Anni, and I found it,’ she whispered as she made herself comfortable and let Donald’s words pull her back into the past . . .

  Donald February 1919

  30

  1 February

  A left today on the ship that will take her to India. I’m so completely miserable I can’t explain. She’s so wonderful in every way – so warm, and wise, unlike any other girl I’ve ever met. How I’ll cope without her in the next few weeks I don’t know. And tomorrow I must return to Astbury to try and tell Mother that we have to sell the estate. Dreading her reaction, quite frankly.

  19 February

  At Astbury. Mother still refusing to leave her room, saying she’s dying of some terrible sickness, but the doctor can’t diagnose anything physically wrong. The entire household knows that she’s still sulking about Selina’s marriage to Henri. Received a beautiful telegram from A, who turned nineteen on-board ship three days ago. Her words of love keep me going. She arrives in Calcutta in two weeks’ time. I can only hope she’s back home soon. Have sent telegram back telling her how much I love her. Anyway, whether she likes it or not, I’m going to speak to Mother today. We can’t go on like this any longer.

  Bracing himself, Donald knocked on the door of his mother’s bedroom. He heard the clatter of china, and finally, a weak ‘Enter’.

  ‘Hello, Mother, could I open one of the curtains? It’s so dark in here I can’t even see you.’

  ‘If you must, but the light hurts my eyes,’ Maud answered in a quavering voice.

  Donald pulled back one of the curtains and walked over to his mother. ‘May I sit down?’

  ‘Pull up a chair beside me.’ She indicated with a laboured movement of her fingers on top of the sheets.

  Donald did so. ‘How are you?’

  ‘No better.’

  ‘At least you have some colour.’

  ‘That’s probably the rouge I asked Bessie to put on my cheeks this morning,’ replied Maud abruptly. ‘I feel worse every day.’

  Donald took a deep breath. ‘Mother, I understand you’re not well, but there really are some things we must discuss.’

  ‘Like your sister marrying that ghastly little Frenchman? Your father would turn in his grave.’

  Donald thought back to his warm, loving father and knew how happy he would have been that Selina had found someone to share her life with after suffering such tragedy.

  ‘What’s done is done, Mother, and there’s nothing either of us can do to change it. Selina is an adult and must make her own decisions.’

  ‘If you don’t approve, then why will you attend their sordid little wedding?’ Maud retorted. ‘No one in London society is going, and that’s a fact.’

  ‘She’s my sister, Mother. And as a matter of fact, I happen to like Henri. I think he loves Selina and will take good care of her and Eleanor.’

  ‘In that case, what is it you wish to discuss with me?’ Maud changed the subject.

  He steeled himself to tell her what he must. ‘Mother, the estate is in the most dreadful financial mess, and if I don’t do something about it soon, the house will literally fall down about our ears. The bank may even decide to repossess it, we’re in such debt.’

  His mother did not respond, so Donald ploughed on.

  ‘Tragic as it is, the only thing I can do is sell up. I must pray I can find a buyer who has enough money to see its potential and take it on.’

  At this, Maud’s eyes darted to her son. Even in the dim light, Donald could see they were full of abject horror.

  ‘Sell the Astbury Estate?’

  He watched as his mother threw back her head and laughed.

  ‘Donald, although I recognise the house is in need of some renovation, I think you’re being a little overdramatic. Of course we can’t sell it! It’s been in the family since the sixteen hundreds!’

  ‘Well, Mother, I’ve spent the past month talking to our bankers, the accountant and the estate manager, who all sing to the same tune. The estate is bankrupt and there is an end to it. I’m sorry, but that’s how it is.’

  ‘Donald –’ Maud’s voice rose suddenly from the depths of her debilitating illness – ‘I can countenance many things, but I will never, ever agree to sell the Astbury Estate.’

  ‘Mother,’ Donald answered as calmly as he could, ‘you may remember that three months ago, when I came of age, it was legally handed over to me. Therefore, it’s my decision as to what is best to do. However sad or distasteful this situation is to all of us, sell we must. Or face the bailiffs coming in to forcefully remove us.’

  At this, Maud fell back onto her pillow and clutched at her heart.

  ‘How can you be so cruel? I’m a sick woman, and you bring me this news! I have a terrible pain in my chest; please, call Bessie, call the doctor . . .’

  Donald looked down at her and saw that her face had indeed turned a ghastly pale colour.

  ‘Mother, please, I don’t mean to upset you, but really, we simply have no choice.’

  She was panting now, trying to catch her breath. Donald stood up. ‘I’ll call for Dr Trefusis. I’m sorry to have distressed you like this.’ He sighed and left the room.

  Dr Trefusis came immediately. He examined Maud and found Donald waiting nervously outside.

  ‘She’s suffering from some form of nervous attack. I’ve given her a sleeping draught, and I’ll be back in the morning to see how she is. However, for all our sakes,’ he said firmly, ‘I suggest you leave whatever it was you said to her earlier well alone for now.’

  10 March

  Received a telegram from A to tell me that the boat docked safely in India and that she is en route to Cooch Behar Palace. Mother is still refusing to leave her bedroom or allow me entry to it and I rattle round the Hall in a constant state of anxiety and despair. Spent this afternoon writing a long letter to A at the palace to comfort myself. The pall of gloom that’s presently cast over Astbury is palpable. Servants are always the first to smell trouble, and I think they all know something’s up. This morning, I had a property agent call round. The estate has been valued and amounts to precious little, considering what it contains. But at least it will be enough to service the debt and buy myself and A a much smaller country house. And enough, too, so my mother can afford similar.

  April arrived and Donald was glad of the bright spring days which brought the garden to life and caused the gorse on the moors to begin to turn a vivid yellow. But as he trotted Glory out of the stable one morning, a nagging fear assailed him. He hadn’t heard from Anni for almost a month, not since she’d arrived at the palace in Cooch Behar. As he urged Glory to pick up speed and cantered out across the moors, small demons began to tap holes in his confidence.

  Had she returned to India and met someone else? After all, she was a beautiful, accomplished woman – not a princess, no, but aristocratic with the sort of upbringing, grace and intelligence that any man would find attractive. He was a lord of the British realm, yes, but a penniless one who, as soon as Astbury was sold, would be without a kingdom to rule.

  In the past month, Donald had begun to realise his education had only fitted him to become a member of the gentry and to run his estate and his staff. Unless he returned to the army – a thought which horrified him – what would he do with his future if the estate were sold? Dismounting by the brook where Anni and he had talked together that first summer, he lay down in the grass to think.

  After his experiences in the war, a life lived in leisure with no purpose seemed pointless. And he felt guilty – guilty because it was he who would be the one to erase so many hundreds of years of the history of the Astburys at Astbury Hall. He found himself trying to think, yet again, if there was a way that the estate could be saved, but no plausible ideas revealed themselves. He knew that if there were a way, he would wan
t to take it, not only because of the family history, but also because at least then he’d be doing something worthwhile by giving the two hundred or so local staff and tenant farmers a livelihood – not to mention his mother, who, despite her current histrionics, was genuinely devastated about having to leave.

  Donald stood up and remounted Glory. He told himself he would simply have to accept it and concentrate his energies on his new future with Anni, and through that discover a new purpose to his life.

  15 May

  Yesterday (at long last), Mother emerged from her bedroom. But no word from A for almost ten weeks. I’ve written numerous letters to the address she gave me at the palace, but have heard nothing in reply. Where can she be? Never felt so damned low. Perhaps she’s forgotten me. Perhaps she, too, like her friend Indira, has met an Indian prince and has run away with him . . .

  Donald threw down his pen, stood up and gazed sullenly through his bedroom window. The sun was high in the sky and the day was beautiful, but he couldn’t appreciate it. Dreadful thoughts about Anni and reasons for her not replying to him filled his mind constantly. Or perhaps, he reasoned, it was as simple as her letters not getting through. The post between England and India was notoriously difficult. But he knew he wouldn’t settle until he’d heard from her.

  Downstairs at breakfast, he found his mother eating her way through a plateful of bacon and eggs.

  ‘I’m pleased to see you looking so much better, Mother.’ With an effort, he conjured up a tight smile.

  ‘Well, you know how the winter affects me. But summer is almost here and there’s much to do.’

  ‘Really?’ said Donald, wondering what on earth she meant.

  ‘Yes.’ Maud passed him a letter across the breakfast table. ‘Some old friends of your father’s have suggested they might like to come and visit us. Of course I have said yes.’

  Donald perused the letter, which had a New York address. ‘It says they’ll be arriving in about seven weeks’ time. Who are the Drumners anyway?’

  ‘Ralph Drumner is head of one of the oldest and, might I add, wealthiest families in New York. I believe he owns a bank, and his wife, Sissy, from what I remember of her, is delightful. They also have a daughter, Violet, who’s about the same age as you. She’s apparently on her European tour, but will join her parents here at some point during the summer.’

  Donald was surprised at her apparent enthusiasm. Maud regarded most Americans as ‘common’.

  ‘Well, as long as you’ll be well enough to entertain them, Mother, I’m happy the thought of old friends visiting has perked you up.’

  ‘Yes, I do believe it has.’ Maud smiled happily at her son.

  As she was in such a good mood, Donald decided to tackle the Selina question. ‘Perhaps, whilst your visitors are here, you might consider having Selina down to visit. I know little Eleanor is missing her grandmother, and Astbury.’

  ‘As you well know, Donald, so long as she is married to that man, Selina will never be welcome here in this house. Have I made myself clear?’

  Donald sighed, knowing that as Lord Astbury and the legal owner of the estate, he was perfectly entitled to overrule her and invite his sister to visit whenever he chose. However, the inevitable aftermath of upsetting his mother again when she seemed so much brighter was not a situation he felt he could currently stomach.

  9 June

  Been to London to see the bank manager again. More bad news – time is running out now and I must make plans to put the estate up for sale soon. I also went to visit Anni’s matron at The London Hospital in Whitechapel, who told me she hasn’t heard a word from her either. Saw Selina briefly and she said she met Indira and her new husband in the South of France. Anni had told Indira she was returning directly to England when she left Paris in May. I really am beside myself with anxiety. Without her, what is there left?

  14 July

  Ralph Drumner and his wife, Sissy, arrived to stay at Astbury a week ago. They seem sweet enough and, despite the dilapidated state of the house, are charmed at staying in a real stately home with an English lord present. Sissy actually curtsied to me when they arrived! I think that Ralph Drumner is far shrewder than he pretends. He’s obviously as rich as Croesus; Sissy is in all the latest Paris fashions and is dripping in diamonds. They’re here for two months, ‘doing England’, as they put it, and tomorrow their daughter Violet arrives. Still no word from A. My heart slowly turns to ice, as really I can think of no good reason why she hasn’t contacted me, except for one.

  ‘The Drumners will be back here at three-thirty, in time for afternoon tea,’ announced Maud. ‘I suggest we take it on the terrace. You know they went to London to collect their daughter? She arrived last night from Paris.’

  ‘Yes, Mother,’ Donald answered distractedly over breakfast.

  ‘As you’re of a similar age to her, it might help if you joined us and entertained her.’

  Donald folded The Times and stood up from the table. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be on parade.’

  That afternoon, Donald took a ride around the estate. The tenant farmers he visited at least seemed cheerful, having had the perfect weather conditions for a bumper wheat crop, which would be harvested within the next few weeks. This was news they thought would please him; little did they know of the fate about to befall them.

  A prospective buyer for the estate had been found. Mr Kinghorn, a Cornish man by birth, was a businessman who’d done extremely well in tin during the war. He seemed a decent enough fellow and was eager to buy his way up the social ladder by acquiring the Astbury Estate. He was purchasing it for a song simply because there was no competition for it in the financially grim post-war years. Donald was yet to give his final handshake on the sale. But at least, he thought, comforting himself as he handed his mare over to the groom and walked back towards the Hall, he knew that the estate would probably be run in a far more efficient and businesslike way under the new owner’s watchful eye.

  Walking into the garden, Donald spied the Drumners and his mother sitting on the terrace taking tea and realised he was late. They would have to suffer him in his riding breeches rather than him face his mother’s further displeasure. He strode up the steps and as he did so, the young woman at the table caught his eye. The masculine in him recognised immediately that Violet Drumner was a beauty. Her slender body was enclosed in a pretty tea dress, her blonde hair cut into a modish bob. As he drew closer, he could see that she had vivid brown eyes and perfectly shaped bow lips set in flawlessly pale skin.

  ‘Good day to you,’ he said as he arrived on the terrace at the table. ‘Mother, Ralph, Sissy, my apologies for being late and, Miss Drumner,’ Donald said, turning to the young woman, ‘welcome to Astbury. May I call you Violet?’

  ‘Yes, please do.’ She smiled, revealing a glimpse of her perfect teeth.

  ‘I’m delighted to make your acquaintance,’ he said as he sat down and the maid hurried to pour him a cup of tea. ‘How was your journey down here?’

  ‘Extremely pleasant,’ Violet answered. ‘I haven’t really seen outside London before. All the dances I attended here in England at the beginning of the summer were in town.’

  ‘And, of course, Violet made her debut in New York last year,’ said Sissy.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Maud, with a barely perceptible raise of her eyebrow.

  ‘Did you enjoy the Season here too?’

  ‘My, yes! I met so many interesting people. I simply adore England,’ Violet added in her chirpy New York tone.

  ‘Violet was quite the belle of the London Season by all accounts,’ said Ralph. ‘Had a heap of titled young men chasing after her. And don’t say you didn’t, Violet.’

  ‘Oh really, Pa.’ Violet blushed prettily. ‘All the girls were popular.’

  ‘Was there one young man in particular who caught your eye?’ asked Maud.

  ‘I think I’m too young to settle down just yet,’ she answered diplomatically.

  ‘Do you ride, Violet?’ Donald a
sked, changing the subject.

  ‘Oh yes, in Central Park, quite often, and when we go to our summer cottage in Newport, I have my own horse there.’

  ‘Then whilst you’re here, you must allow me to take you out for a ride across the moors.’

  ‘I’d like that very much, Donald.’

  24 July

  Took V riding again this morning. She’s technically proficient but rides like a girl, whereas A rode like a man. Still, she is sweet, bright and well educated and her pleasure at being here in England makes me smile. She’s also very pretty and I look at her sometimes, thinking how her pale skin and blonde hair could not be more in contrast to A’s exotic, sultry looks. At least her being here has helped me take my mind off A, as her natural energy is infectious.

  Donald realised that at least he’d been walking with a little more of a spring in his step in the past two weeks. With their typically American enthusiasm, the Drumners had lifted the atmosphere of gloom that had hung over Astbury of late. His mother had roused herself and invited some local gentry round for a rare dinner party a few days ago. Even the servants seemed genuinely appreciative of the additional work they had to do because of the visitors. Maids hurried up and down the stairs preparing baths for the two American women and caring for their enormous wardrobes. The guest bedroom corridor smelt permanently of Violet’s perfume, light and summery, like herself.

  Their bright faces greeted him at the breakfast table that morning, as Ralph extolled their plan to ‘take in Cornwall’ in the next few days.

  ‘Mother,’ Violet said, ‘would you mind if I don’t accompany you? Amy Venables is having a dance in London and has written to ask if I can attend. It would be lovely to see some of my English friends from the Season one more time before we leave for New York.’

  ‘I’m sure it would, my dear, but you can’t possibly go to London alone. It’s simply out of the question,’ replied Sissy.