“But I couldn’t. What if he didn’t answer?”
“My lady, if you care, it doesn’t matter how much you risk. Risk everything if only you are honest with your heart.”
“You don’t understand, Céline. I must have hurt him as badly as he hurt me. I do not know if he will even come for Ada’s wedding tomorrow. I do not know if I will ever see him again at all.” Rose put her hands to her face as she realized again just how badly she had mistaken her own heart. “Oh Céline, I am such a fool!” She began sobbing again, and Céline’s hand on her shoulder could not comfort her.
London
Georgiana paced up and down in front of the window. It was late at night and she had not slept, but she did not feel her exhaustion. Her nails were bitten to the quick. Mrs. Cliffe stood by her, arms folded, an anxious, serious look on her face. Both were listening for any sound from inside the room, but there had been nothing but a deadly silence.
“I can’t bear it,” Georgiana spoke brokenly. “I should have stayed with Michael. I am such a coward.”
Mrs. Cliffe reached out and clasped her hand. “You are no such thing. You are a brave, brave girl, my lady, and I am proud of you. It was my responsibility to care for the staff, and how much more so when the girl was young, and from a foreign land. But my lady, have you forgotten that your sister’s wedding is tomorrow?”
“Oh my goodness!” Georgiana exclaimed. “You are right, and I am bridesmaid. I cannot let Ada down.”
“Of course you cannot!” Mrs. Cliffe exclaimed. “Never you worry, dear. Michael and I can look after Priya. You have a sleep now, and tomorrow early my man will drive you to the station and you can catch the first train. Collins, my maid, will go with you.”
“There’s no need,” Georgiana protested.
“Nonsense.” For an instant Georgiana was reminded of Mrs. Cliffe as the housekeeper of Somerton Court, not the successful author. “No Averley daughter shall travel unchaperoned, not if I have anything to do with it!”
Somerton
Charlotte hurried after her mother as she swept through the reception rooms, Cooper and Mrs. McRory at her heels.
“I don’t like that wreath there at all, it obscures my portrait,” the countess announced, pausing in the drawing room.
“I’ll have it moved at once, your ladyship,” Mrs. McRory replied.
“Good. For the rest, this room is charming. Is everything in order for the breakfast? The guests will be arriving very soon, and we don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“Everything is perfectly in order, your ladyship,” Cooper stepped forward to say. “We are ready to serve as soon as you give the word.”
“Excellent.” The countess led them on, back through the drawing room, into the blue room and the Chinese room, and out into the hall.
“My lady, Lord Fintan has arrived,” Cooper announced. “He is in the conservatory.”
“Already!” the countess exclaimed. “I hadn’t expected him for an hour at least. Charlotte, go and meet him and tell him that Ada will be there as soon as she can.” She swept toward the door.
Charlotte stood where she was.
The countess glanced back. “Well, go on, girl.”
Charlotte turned and allowed Cooper to lead the way. Her heart was beating uncomfortably fast. A tête-à-tête with Laurence was exactly what she had hoped to avoid. It was going to be difficult enough to conceal her feelings as it was. She steeled herself as Cooper opened the door of the conservatory and announced, “Miss Charlotte Templeton.”
Laurence looked around, startled. He was as handsome as ever, dressed in his morning coat. She was reminded of the first time she had seen him.
“Charlotte.” He came closer to her as Cooper withdrew. “You truly can’t help yourself, can you?” he said softly, and raised his fingers to touch her cheek.
Charlotte jerked her head away. She was not sure she would be able to hold back tears.
“Ada is just dressing and will be down as soon as she can.”
“I see. You’ve made certain we would have ample time to say good-bye, then,” he said with an air of contempt. Yet he moved forward, wrapping his hands around her waist possessively. They wandered upward, but she pulled out of his grip.
“I don’t want to say good-bye,” she whispered.
Laurence made an impatient noise. “I’ve told you. I won’t keep on with this—with us—after I’m married.”
“That’s not what I mean. I don’t want to say good-bye the way you want to.”
Laurence stepped back, frowning at her.
“Just a few weeks ago…”
“I know.” Charlotte pressed her hands together, desperate to explain and yet not sure how to find the words. “But things are different now. I feel…I have been unfair to Ada.” She spoke hastily, awkwardly. Suddenly it seemed important to tell the truth. “What happened in the past happened, but let us end our relationship here.”
He smirked. “Righteousness doesn’t suit you, Charlotte.”
“What does it matter? Laurence, we are both to begin new lives now. You with Ada, and I—alone. But I would like us to be friends. You know, as we used to be.” She held out her hand to him, meaning him to shake it.
Laurence moved forward, more gently this time, and she thought he was going to take her hand. He did, but then he pulled her toward him and kissed her on the mouth. Charlotte tried to protest, but she realized she had not the strength.
It was a strange kiss, gentle and affectionate. It reminded her of their first kisses, before their relationship had become a competition, twisted out of its natural shape by the constant scrutiny and demands of the world they lived in. She closed her eyes upon the tears she hadn’t shed and suddenly it was three years ago, and she was so much younger, so much stronger, and light as a feather. She surrendered and gave in to his embrace.
“Where has Charlotte disappeared to?” the countess exclaimed as she reentered the hall. She pointed at Ward, who had just come up from the servants’ quarters. “You. Go and find Miss Charlotte. She should be in the conservatory. Remind her that there is no time for idle chitchat, she is needed to help me.”
Stella hesitated. She was ready to refuse; after all she was no longer in the countess’s service. But, seeing the countess’s commanding finger, she didn’t quite dare. She turned away, annoyed with herself, and walked with quick irritation to the conservatory.
She was glad, though, she thought, that she was no longer working at Somerton. Downstairs, two kitchen maids were in tears, and the first footman was threatening Mr. Cooper with his notice, all because of that slave-driving Mrs. McRory. No, Stella was certainly better off where she was. She made her way through the palm trees, following the rippling of water and the rustling of leaves. The path led her around corner after corner, until she came to the fountain, and saw—
She gazed in astonishment at the sight. Lord Fintan she did not recognize immediately, not until she saw Miss Charlotte’s golden hair, and then it all rushed upon her with the cold clear shock of a wave of fresh water. Lord Fintan was kissing Miss Charlotte Templeton!
She let the leaves fall back at once. She was almost trembling in shock. So it was still going on! The horrible knowledge rushed upon her that she had had a chance to destroy Miss Charlotte entirely, if she had only realized it. If she had only realized that the information she held was live, was current, instead of old news!
Her mind raced. They had not seen her, and as a result there were many possibilities. She chose the simplest and most effective one. Going back out to the hallway, she caught the arm of a maid who was rushing by with armfuls of tulle wreaths laced with orange blossoms.
“Go upstairs,” she told the girl, “and tell Lady Ada that Miss Charlotte wishes to see her urgently in the conservatory. Never mind those garlands—I shall take them to Mrs. McRory. Go on now. Hurry up.”
She gathered in the bundle, and watched as the maid scampered off upstairs. Then, the white garlands held carefu
lly so as to prevent them dirtying on the floor, she went off to find Mrs. McRory.
Ada hurried downstairs, shaking loose a pin that seemed to have become tangled in her hem as Céline was fitting her dress. What could Charlotte want now? she wondered. There was so much to do. The veil was not to Céline’s perfect liking, and now there was a footman in tears over something Mrs. McRory had said or done—and the guests would begin arriving any moment.
Only six hours left, said a small voice in Ada’s heart. Tonight, you will be a married woman—married to Laurence.
She pushed open the glass doors to the conservatory, wiping away a strand of hair in the heat. Half running, she went through the conservatory, looking for Charlotte. She caught a glimpse of white muslin through the green fronds and headed toward it.
“Yes, Charlotte,” she began, brushing the palm leaves out of her way, “what is it—”
She stopped dead. The words froze on her tongue. An unbelievable sight met her eyes. Charlotte, in Laurence’s arms. Laurence kissing Charlotte. A moment later she would register the gentleness with which Laurence cradled Charlotte’s body, the soft helpless way in which Charlotte seemed to melt into him. But for now, all she saw was the man she was to marry—in just a few hours’ time—kissing her stepsister.
Laurence saw her first. He gave a horrified, strangled gasp and released Charlotte. Charlotte’s eyes focused on Ada, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a shriek.
Ada broke the silence. She looked at Charlotte. “Is this what you meant by being a better sister to me?”
The color drained from Charlotte’s face. “I am sorry—I never meant—” she gasped. She turned and ran from the room.
Ada heard Charlotte sobbing as she went. Ada looked back at Laurence. He was standing very still, a frightened expression on his face. She suddenly realized how very frightened he was, all the time. The fear had always been there beneath his veneer.
“I can explain,” he began.
Ada laughed shortly. “Please do. It seemed quite straightforward to me, but perhaps…”
“I love you.” He advanced gingerly.
“Please,” Ada said coldly. “Spare me. Simply explain why you were kissing m-my bridesmaid. My sister.”
Laurence took a deep breath. A politician’s voice rolled out of him. “I will admit I was kissing your sister, but Ada, you have kept me at arm’s length. If only I had been able to satisfy my natural urges through the…normal channels, I would never have fallen for Charlotte’s persuasion.”
Ada stepped back as if he had dealt her a physical blow. Her hand flew up as if to ward his words off. “Laurence!” she exclaimed. “I could forgive anything but this. Are you truly trying to blame me for your lack of self-control?”
“I love you, Ada, and you never let me near you. Who’s to wonder if I stray?”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Ada turned away and walked toward the house with quick, nervous steps. “Tell me you love her, tell me you find me unattractive, tell me anything honest, but not this!”
“Ada!”
“No, I can’t hear another word.” She half ran from the conservatory. Laurence ran after her.
He was desperate, she could hear it in his voice. “Ada, please, forgive me! Ada, this makes no difference to us, does it?”
“I don’t know. I must think!” Ada left him at the bottom of the stairs. Her head ringing with the shock of what she had seen and heard, she raced up to her room, and shut the door behind her.
Georgiana clasped her hands together to stop their trembling as she sat in the pony trap, rattling up the drive toward the white cliff of Somerton Court. Of all her many escapades, she was sure this was the one that would land her in the most trouble. Breaking a window was one thing, climbing the oak tree at the end of the drive and getting stuck up there was another, but going to the worst parts of London with no warning, in a stolen car, and staying away a whole night? She felt faint at the thought of the reaction that awaited her. But she had had no choice. The longer she looked at it the more certain she was that she and Michael had done the right thing.
“Do you think my father is home yet?” she asked the groom anxiously.
“He is, my lady. Back an hour ago,” answered Jevins.
Georgiana swallowed. As they came up the drive she could see that not only was her father’s Rolls there, but several other cars as well. The wedding guests had begun to arrive. Ada would be under immense stress already, on the eve of the most demanding day of her life, and she had made it worse. She wondered how she would face her.
The pony trap drew up in front of the doors and Georgiana hopped down. The groom gave her an understanding grimace.
“Good luck, miss,” he said.
“Thank you Jevins. I’ll need it.” Georgiana turned miserably toward the house and walked up the steps. To her surprise there was no one in the hall. In the distance she could hear shouting voices, and a moment later recognized them as her father’s and Lord Fintan’s. A door slammed, and she caught a snatch of their words.
“…Never, as a father, have I ever been so enraged.…”
Georgiana stood stock-still, confused and nervous. What could be going on? As she listened, the servants’ door flew open and Cooper came out, almost at a run.
“Oh my lady, is it you?” he exclaimed, clearly flustered. “I thought James would be up here, and when I realized there was no one to receive visitors—”
“It’s quite all right, Cooper. I can see that everyone is under a strain.” Georgiana handed him her hat. “What is going on? Have the guests arrived?”
“They have arrived, indeed, my lady, but the family are—are occupied and not able to see them.” Cooper’s stammer told Georgiana he was hiding something. She frowned.
“Cooper, what has happened? You must tell me.”
“Well—to be honest, my lady, it’s all of a kerfuffle.” Cooper’s eyes bloomed with tears. “Things were proceeding in an organized manner, though that Mrs. McRory is a Tartar, and one or two of the staff have told me in confidence they’ll be giving notice as soon as the wedding is done, for they weren’t happy about what happened to Priya—and in all honesty neither am I entirely confident in my conscience about that young lady—but now there seems to be some disagreement between Lord Fintan and His Lordship.”
“Disagreement!” Georgiana was shocked, and at once conscious of how embarrassing this was, in front of her guests. “The settlement was arranged a month ago—but I shouldn’t be speaking of this to you, Cooper.” She remembered herself quickly.
“No, indeed my lady, and certainly not in the public hallway,” Cooper reproved her.
“Georgiana!” came Rose’s voice. Georgiana turned quickly. Rose was standing on the landing, and she came down the stairs with hasty steps as she spoke. “There you are at last.”
Cooper melted discreetly away. Georgiana steeled herself for a telling off, but Rose hurried on, speaking in a low voice as she reached her. “Have you any idea what is going on? Ada is locked in her room, Céline says she won’t even allow her in to dress her. Charlotte is locked in her room, and I am certain I heard her sobbing through the door. Father and Laurence seem to be having a dreadful argument in the library, the countess is beside herself, and I have been desperately trying to entertain two bishops and a lord, all of whom are most offended that Lord Westlake has not yet arrived to welcome them.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I just don’t understand what is going on.”
“Neither do I!” Georgiana was astonished—it seemed no one had even realized that she and Michael were gone, and no wonder, if things were in such a confusion.
“We must see Ada. If she is having doubts—” Rose hesitated. “I don’t know what is in her mind, but we must go to her. She needs us now more than ever before.”
“Of course we must!” Georgiana exclaimed. She took Rose’s hand and together they ran up the stairs to Ada’s bedroom.
Céline was standing by the door, tapping
gently. “My lady,” she called softly. She looked up in relief as Rose and Georgiana came toward her.
“Thank you, Céline, you may leave it to us now.” Georgiana stepped past her to tap at the door. Céline retreated.
“Ada,” Georgiana knocked. “Ada, dear, it’s us—Georgie and Rose. Your sisters. Please let us in? We want to help. Whatever it is, we want to help.”
She listened to a long silence. Her heart trembled. What if Ada didn’t reply? What could be making her behave so strangely? But then she heard a soft footstep, and the sound of the door being unlocked.
She breathed a sigh and glanced at Rose. Together they opened the door and walked in.
Ada was standing by the window. She seemed to have been looking through some old letters, for she had a small wooden box, of Indian make, open before her on the dressing table. She closed the box and turned to face them. Next to her, the wedding dress on its stand, a massy, delicate cloud of ivory, seemed like a ghostly mirage, a headless version of Ada. She stood to one side of it, slight and pale. She looked as if she had been weeping.
Georgiana raced across the floor. Rose was right behind her.
“My dear Ada,” Georgiana exclaimed as she put her arms around her sister. “What can be the matter?”
Ada’s smile fluttered on her face for a moment.
“Dear Georgie,” she said. She sounded washed out as a day after rain, but she didn’t cry. “I suppose nothing is the matter, really—everything has worked itself out. At least, I understand a good deal now that I didn’t before, and I suppose that is for the best.”
“What do you mean?” Rose asked.
Ada shrugged. “Only that Laurence doesn’t love me. He loves Charlotte. I found them kissing in the conservatory.”
Georgiana was speechless. Then she gasped. “What! Oh no, it can’t be—it can’t be. He loves you dearly. I know he does.”
Diamonds and Deceit (At Somerton) Page 25
