Fragile Blossoms

by Dodie Hamilton

  Dorothy nodded. ‘I could stay with Reg’s mum and dad.’

  ‘And that is Reg?’ Julia nodded toward the lad.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Your intended?’

  ‘I’d like to think so, madam.’

  ‘Then put on your coat and go back with him and have a wonderful Christmas. You’ve been a great help to me today. Take this,’ she pressed a pound note into her hand, ‘and regard the next two days as leave.’

  Luke didn’t want to eavesdrop but the house so quiet it couldn’t be helped.

  Anxious, he watched the cart roll away into the night and thought it time he said something. ‘So what have you decided? You surely can’t be planning to stay here alone. We’ve cleaned up but it’s a cheerless place.’

  ‘Yes but as I said it’s my home and I can’t abandon it.’

  ‘Come to the Nelson! A night away will do you good. I’ll sort the walls. You see a lick of paint and it’ll be as good as new.’

  She gazed about. ‘That’s what Nan said when we first came here, a lick of paint and it will be good as new.’

  ‘And it will, you see.’

  Then she was weeping tears making runnels in the soot.

  ‘Oh don’t!’ He drew her close. ‘You’re alright, my lovely. You’re perfectly fine. No one came to harm. All are safe.’

  ‘It’s Kaiser,’ she said. ‘He could’ve have been killed, burnt to death.’

  ‘But he wasn’t. He was with the cats in the laundry room.’

  ‘Yes, and I forgot they were there,’ she sobbed her tears wetting his shirt. ‘I was in such a rush. I never gave them a thought.’

  ‘Yes you did.’ Luke held her tight her silky curls tickling his nose. ‘The cottage told you they were best moved and you moved them.’

  ‘You think so?’

  ‘I do. So don’t cry, lovely girl. It hurts me to see it.’

  Eyes like great watery pools she looked at him, and then she said it, just came straight out with it and blew him, heart and soul, to smithereens.

  ‘I love you, Luke.’

  Twenty Five

  Many a Slip

  It is the day before Christmas. Luke plans to be at St Bedes for the seven am service. He woke, bathed, and was ready by six. An important day he took a while trying to decide what to wear finally choosing the dark broadcloth overcoat and soft black hat. A good hat he bought it in Milan, the tubby little shopkeeper bouncing all over the place, Il Principe tra gli uomini! A prince among men is going a bit far but it is a good hat. He’s never been a topper man though there were times with Eve when topper and tails were required, the Royal Enclosure at Ascot for one and dining at the Cafe de Paris. There’ll be no more Ascot nor is it likely he’ll dine at the Cafe de Paris. Such trips to fairyland were of Russell Square and not regretted. Of course Anna has her places too that merit a white tie but not to worry, all things will be met as they occur.

  When he looks in the mirror a man looks back with a smooth jaw and clean profile. You might say a dashing man. Beyond the dash you see a steady chap, a bit of a misanthrope at times, resentful of old hurts and one who would not give in, and who where the love of his life is concerned kept on hoping. Today this dashing fellow, this Prince among Men who owns half a street in Manchester, goes to church to hear the vicar calling the Banns.

  Four weeks from today Luke is to wed the most beautiful woman in the world, Mrs Julianna Abigail Passmore nee Dryden.

  ‘I didn’t know you had a second name,’ he said to her the night the stove caught fire. ‘It’s my mother’s name,’ she said. He’d kissed her hand, pressing his lips to her knuckles, poor bruised things smelling of soot. She’d asked if he had a second name. He said it was Claude. It came to him then to tell of his father and Italy. He held back. When he was with Eve Carrington he did few good things and many foolish. Telling of Lucca Aldaro was wrong. Guilty of trying to make his beginnings romantic rather than ordinary it was why Eve treated the secret with contempt. She knew it is not his to tell. It was his mother’s. She reckoned he should’ve had more respect for Nan, and for Albert who all these years has endured in silence. ‘Why are you telling me this?’ she’d said. Luke made some reply. She’d tapped his chest with her fan. ‘Be glad it is me you told and no one else. I’m good at keeping secrets. Your mother will not learn of this from my lips. She should never learn of it from yours.’

  Luke tied his tie. Nervous he struggled. Then he smiled and his reflection smiled with him. Will she tie this for me, he thought. Will I look in the mirror to see my wife’s arms clasped about my neck? Will she say, ‘Oh let me, darling, you’re hopeless at doing this,’ a note of exasperation in her voice?

  Crazy! He laughed outright. Just the thought of being married long enough for Julianna Roberts to feel exasperation is a source of joy.

  No he won’t speak of Italy not while Nan is alive. There are other secrets he can share with the best beloved perhaps on their wedding night as they lie together in the sheets. ‘I want to love you so much,’ he’d said as they stood on the step white blossoms of snow falling about them. ‘I want to kiss every little bit of you from top of your head to the sole of your foot.’

  ‘I know,’ she’d said, ‘and I want it to.’

  At that he’d dropped down on his knees. ‘So will you really do it?’ he’d said. ‘Will you marry me?’ She’d reached down. ‘Yes and gladly.’ Closely pressed against her body he’d breathed her in, a million gossamer blessings falling on his upturned face. This woman! How long had he thought on this moment?

  ‘This is real,’ he’d said. ‘It’s not me making it up in my head.’

  Arms wrapped about him she’d nodded. ‘It is real.’

  ‘You did say you loved me?’

  ‘I did and I do!’

  ‘Then kiss me.’

  Luke closed his eyes. He can’t dwell on that kiss. He must think ahead and not take in haste what she would offer. Three years he’s waited. He can wait a little longer. In this particular wooing patience really is a virtue. They’re not wed yet and as they say there’s many a slip between the cup and the lip. He must allow his brain to lead his body. Had his body held sway the other night and good sense given way to passion then but for a church service they would already be wed. Surreptitious sex is not what he wants of Julianna. He wants a wife promised in the name of God to love as long as they both shall live.

  Where Julianna is concerned his memory is precise. One word sticks out of the years like a jagged nail the word can’t. He remembers meeting her off the Cambridge train when she said she couldn’t love him. Now she says she does. He accepts that and rejoices but keeps his feet firmly on the ground. The four weeks ahead is going to feel like forever but it will pass. He needs to be busy and as such, Christmas Eve or not, he’ll visit Mrs Masson this afternoon and look at the main drains in the North Wing.

  This morning he and Anna will see the vicar. They’ll sit through the service and all that that means. One trial over they’ll go to the Nelson and Nan and Albert. That over he’ll drop Anna and Matty back at the cottage and proceed to Greenfields. There’s nothing brings a man back down to earth quicker than the stink of blocked drains.

  Julia sat waiting for Luke. She spent most of the last two days fidgeting. The china on the shelves is none of the worse for the fire but not willing to take a chance, and unable to sit, she washed every piece. Now other than the smell of fresh white-wash you might think there hadn’t been a fire, or that nothing had changed, when in truth her whole world has changed.

  It continues to snow a dusting of powder covering the last of the soot trails. How foolish! Had she raked the stove back properly it wouldn’t have happened. There wouldn’t have been a mess, Matty wouldn’t be staying at the Nelson, and she wouldn’t be marrying Luke Roberts.

  ‘I do love him. I do!’

  Julia clenched her fist. She does love
him utterly and overwhelmingly. She’s known from the first but afraid to acknowledge such a feeling fought to put space between them. Today they call the Banns for the first time and their commitment becomes public property. Needless to say it is already known. News reached Sandringham Village and brought Hugh Fitzwilliam yesterday morning in what can only be described as a towering rage.

  ‘You can’t do it, Julianna!’ He’d rapped his cane on the table. ‘Good fellow though he is you cannot marry him.’

  ‘How news travels!’

  ‘Your news isn’t news! I heard it yesterday from the green-grocer who heard it from his wife, who’d heard it from a maid whose sister is under housemaid to my intended wife, Lady Charlotte Walbrooke. You cannot marry him.’

  ‘It sounds to me as though I’ve little choice.’

  ‘You have a choice. You can deny the rumour.’

  ‘I can’t deny it. I don’t want to. I am promised to Luke.’

  ‘But it’s wrong for both of you.’

  ‘How is it?’

  ‘He’s too far down the scale.’

  ‘What scale?’

  ‘The scale that allows me to meet with you and you to dine with a King.’

  ‘I’m not aware of any such scale.’

  ‘Nonsense, you’re perfectly aware. You were born aware. Your father knew a fellow from a chap as your mother knew who to call friend and who to call maid. He’s not the right sort. You must forbid the Banns.’

  Julia had laughed. ‘What forbid my own wedding?’

  ‘Yes. You must call halt or suffer the consequences.’

  ‘And what consequences are those?’

  ‘Every door beyond your own will be closed to you.’

  ‘Do you mean Marlborough House?’

  ‘Of course, although HRH being so very liberal with you it’s likely that door will be the last to close.’

  ‘Luke Roberts is a respectable man.’

  ‘I dare say he is but I can’t see him leading a quadrille at Kensington Palace with quite the same air as Daniel Greville Masson.’

  Furious, Julia had protested. ‘What’s wrong with Luke? Wasn’t it you who only recently said he was a charming man?’

  ‘And charming he is but that doesn’t mean I’d have him at my dinner table. He’s in trade and lowly trade at that. Alright he’s climbing a ladder and the way he’s going will soon be at the top but it’s his ladder not ours. His work is to do with cisterns and sewers. It is about the conveying of human shit, dear Julianna, in a time when most ladies, and a few men, have the vapours when referring to a piano leg! He is not for you. You weren’t born with name enough to lift him higher and he’s not yet moneyed enough for it not to matter!’

  ‘This is nonsense! You are surely talking nonsense, Hugh.’

  ‘I am not. I’m trying to make you understand how this will affect your life. It won’t do your business any good.’

  ‘What the Nannies? What has my marriage to do with a tea-room?’

  ‘Nothing at first. In fact for a while you’ll do good business. People will come just to take a look at you.’

  ‘They do that already.’

  ‘Yes an admiring look! They want to know who you are and how you wear you hair and what you eat for breakfast. They see a woman beloved of Royalty. Marry Luke Roberts and you won’t be admired. You wouldn’t even be Mrs Roberts. You’ll be the woman who wed Milady Carrington’s cast off.’

  ‘Ah! And that’s a reason isn’t it?’

  ‘It has a lot to do with it. When Luke was with Eve he was invisible. A lap-dog, an artist’s whim, she could take him up and discard him without harm to herself or him. The beautiful Ju-ju Dryden takes him up and he is for the whole world to see a fortune hunter and a rogue.’

  ‘Luke won’t be fortune hunter with me. I have no fortune to hunt.’

  ‘Yes you do. You have the Prince of Wales’ favour. Marry Luke and he’ll be seen seeking the same and you aiding him.’

  ‘I never sought anyone’s favour. I would hope any such favour was given in friendship. It was certainly returned so.’

  ‘You are a person of note, Julianna. What you do affects us all.’

  ‘You exaggerate, Hugh. My position in Court, if I have one, is slight, my comings and goings of no value to anyone. If as you suggest I should drop into the shadows no one would miss me. I would share the shadows with my husband and I wouldn’t be lonely. As for Luke seeking favour if you knew him you’d know he scorned such things. And if you really knew me you’d know I would never seek to do harm to anyone.’

  ‘I do know Luke and I know you and I speak from the bottom of my heart when I say any accusation levelled at you will not be of my lips. I am disappointed you should choose to bear his name sooner than mine but I understand. I am not here out of chagrin. l am here to try to make you see any hope of maintaining a position here in England ceases with this marriage.’

  ‘Who sent you?’

  ‘No one sent me. I did have a call from Eve and mentioned the situation.’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘Nothing, not a word, but then she’s another who cares less about consequence. It’s only people like me and Charlotte who care enougb to try establishing order. All this swapping sides it’s no good. You see, a hundred years from now there’ll be chimney sweeps marrying countesses, and Lords made out of tin-men, and maybe even a bugger on the throne, although that won’t be new. The sad fact is the country’s going to the dogs.’

  When Hugh left it was with a sad smile. ‘I’ll say goodbye then. It’s not likely we’ll meet. I too plan to marry and can’t afford to maintain suspect connections. I am a poor man and getting poorer. I must consider my old age and my rustic joints. Give Matty a kiss from me.’

  The church was full. Usually it is the nine o clock service that sees a full house. Today at seven there’s another item on the menu. Luke helped Julianna down from the cart. It’s likely he should have brought her by carriage but pride made a stand. He came as he is, Luke Roberts, builder and plumber.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he said.

  Julia brushed snow from her cape. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you think you can manage this?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes.’

  Nothing more to be said he offered her his arm and in they went.

  The early service is for farmers and workers of the field and kept brief. Usually there’s a bit of preaching followed by communion for those that want to take it. Today it seemed longer and the vicar red of face. They sang the hymn Fight the Good Fight which Luke thought appropriate and then everyone sat. The vicar got to his feet and rattling a piece of paper called for silence. He needn’t have bothered the woodworm in the pews made more noise than the congregation.

  It seems Christmas is a time for weddings. Four couples were named, three in St Bedes and one at St Marks over by Tey Bridge. The vicar read the Banns in such a solemn tone you’d think he was telling of a tragedy at sea rather than forthcoming weddings. ‘It is my duty,’ he said, ‘to call the banns.’ When he got to the bit about ‘anyone knowing impediment should speak up’, someone the back of the church coughed and Julianna trembled.

  Undercover of a bible Luke took her hand. Their names were called, Luke Claude Roberts and Julianna Abigail Passmore. Hearing them coupled together the blood drained from his face. It was Julianna then that held onto him.

  They left the church in bright sunlight. Collecting Matty from the Nelson will be a greater trial. Nan’s thoughts on the marriage matter more than any vicar. When he told her the night of the fire he left no room for manoeuvre. ‘She said she’ll be my wife so accept it and be glad.’ Nan had looked at him. ‘Why should I not? I learned a long time ago not to rail against a storm.’

  Albert popped a bottle of champagne. ‘Will you take a glass of something in celebration, Mrs Dry... er...Julianna
.’

  ‘Thank you, Albert.’

  Nan was uncomfortable with the situation as was Albert. Julia was sorry for them both. Had their son brought home a stranger they would have been happier. Things said and done over the years have made a divide that will never quite be bridged. Julia sipped from the glass, watched the clock, and searched for things to say but there was nothing. As yet no one has asked where the happy couple plan to live. Julia thinks it cannot be Bakers End.

  Luke called yesterday evening. He arrived at five and left at five-thirty. ‘I’ll not stay. It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow you have things to do.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll collect you tomorrow for church.’

  ‘I shall be ready.’

  ‘May I come and see you here tomorrow? I’ve a couple of presents for Matty I’d like to bring.’

  ‘Oh do come! We shall be glad to see you.’

  A kiss of her hand and a tip of his hat and he left. So formal and polite if Julia didn’t understand him she’d be shocked at the seeming distance yet she does understand and is moved by his sensitivity. It is because of Stefan Adelman and Daniel Greville Masson and maybe even the Prince of Wales. It is because of possibilities attached to them that he sets himself apart. Luke has given himself, and Julia, a new page on which to write. ‘You are to be my wife, my one and only, and I am to be yours. Use this time to be certain of what you do and if you are not certain then set yourself free.’ Though no word of this passes his lips the message is clear not least from his body and his kiss.

  One kiss but such a kiss! In that first touch of lip to lip she knew why she’d kept a distance and why he now did the same. The kiss was so sweet she’d clung to him. It burned. It burns still, and he knows it so and stares across his mother’s table arms folded and mouth set.

  Heat in her cheek Julia looks away. She’ll not go against him. His patience soothes her soul. And this is the man Hugh Fitzwilliam would not have at his dining table, a man in trade too far down the scale to be lifted higher.