To Heaven With Love

by Barbara Cartland

  This was the fourth day running that cook had sent up potato soup to the dining room.

  Mr. Shawcroft did not wait for Dorianna or her Mama to be served before starting his dinner.

  He was already spooning the soup into his mouth, whilst still perusing the racing pages and he did not seem to notice when a large drop of soup fell from his spoon and clung to his creased shirt front.

  Dorianna could scarcely believe how much he had changed since he had married her Mama.

  He had seemed so well-turned out and polite at the time of the wedding.

  *

  She let her thoughts turn back to that day almost a year ago now.

  She recalled it all so clearly as she slipped back in time to the final moments in her Mama’s bedroom as she and Marjorie helped the bride into her wedding dress.

  Dorianna had been her bridesmaid and as soon as Marjorie had helped her with her own pale blue gown, she had hurried to help dress her mother.

  She wanted Mama to look absolutely perfect on her special day, and did not like thinking of frail Marjorie struggling on her own with the big wedding gown and the flowing veil that the bridegroom had provided.

  The bride’s elegant wedding dress with a fashionably cut narrow waist was made from pale grey satin that was sewn all over with crystals.

  She gasped as Marjorie and Dorianna laced her into her corset.

  “It’s so very tight!” she had cried, “I will never survive the day!”

  “Mama, this hour-glass silhouette is so fashionable – you will look absolutely beautiful.”

  “I think it’s a fashion far more suitable for young girls,” she sighed, knowing that she would not feel comfortable all day.

  “But that is just how your fiancé must see you, my Lady,” Marjorie came in, “as his young and lovely bride.”

  And then the old lady and Dorianna helped Mama to step into the rustling skirts.

  They were just fixing the last hook at the back of the dress, when there was a loud rap at the bedroom door and Dorianna ran across to open it.

  “An urgent delivery for her Ladyship,” called out the garden boy, looking slightly shamefaced.

  Bemused by his obvious discomfort, Dorianna took the package from him. It was a long box covered in purple velvet and fastened by a silver clasp.

  There was a folded note pinned to the top.

  “It must be my dear Neville again,” sighed Mama. “It’s yet another gift, I am overcome with his generosity. I shall have to sit down while I open it.”

  Marjorie and Dorianna together smoothed out her satin skirts as she dropped down onto a sofa.

  Then she unfastened the clasp and lifted the purple velvet lid.

  “Oh!” she gasped and her face turned pale. “Why, this is undreamt of!”

  Lying in a nest of black satin inside the box was a heavy necklace covered in diamonds and a delicate curved tiara also covered with sparkling jewels.

  Mama put the box on the sofa and opened the note and read out,

  “For my beloved. Would that I had the means to change every tiny crystal on your wedding dress into gems like these – but my dearest – may these two small tokens suffice for now.

  Your most ardent and devoted,

  Neville Shawcroft.”

  “Oh, Mama! What a fabulous gift!”

  Her hands shook as she refolded the note and then she sat silently on the sofa as Marjorie hooked the diamond necklace around her neck.

  “I must fetch the veil, as, of course, the tiara will fit over the top of it,” suggested Marjorie, as she hobbled across the room.

  “Mama, are you all right?” asked Dorianna, while Marjorie was out of earshot. “You seem very quiet. These are such wonderful jewels. Aren’t you happy to be getting married again?”

  She took a deep breath and put her hands over her small tightly laced waist.

  “Of course, my darling. I am happy. But – perhaps it’s because I am older now, I don’t know – but I cannot help but think of your dearest Papa and how joyful I felt on our wedding day all those years ago.”

  Dorianna felt her eyes suddenly sting with tears.

  “Oh, Mama! I so want you to be happy. But you must not marry Mr. Shawcroft unless – unless you really love him!”

  She caught hold of her daughter’s hand.

  “I believe, my dear darling, that we have only one chance of true love in our lives. I have had mine and it was wonderful, not least in that it brought you into the world.

  “Mr. Shawcroft is kind and attentive and he is very well-off. He will do everything he can to look after us and provide us with everything we need. I ask no more.”

  There was no further chance to speak to her Mama, for Marjorie was coming back, the veil cascading from her hands like a sparkling waterfall.

  She laid the folds over Mama’s head and fastened them in place with the diamond tiara.

  Mama stood up slowly and walked across the room towards the door. Then she turned back to face Dorianna.

  Her face was invisible behind the clinging folds of the veil.

  If she had not known that Mama stood before her, she might have thought that the slender glittering bride was a stranger, a young and elegant woman she had never met before.

  Mama walked slowly up the aisle of the little stone Church in Ashburton, her heavy skirts rustling on the floor.

  Her kid-gloved elegant hand rested on the arm of old Mr. Bentley, who had been a family friend for many years, as she had no living male relatives to give her away.

  Mr. Shawcroft was waiting for her at the altar and beside him stood his Best Man, a heavily built youth with a shock of pale hair falling into his eyes.

  Dorianna had never seen him before, but she knew that his name was Lord Buxton – and that he was a good friend of Mr. Shawcroft.

  As Dorianna walked behind her Mama, carrying the hem of the long veil, she thought how well turned out Mr. Shawcroft was in his immaculate top hat and tails with a huge white gardenia in his buttonhole.

  And yet, at the same time, she could not but help thinking that he looked a bit like a fox.

  In her father’s old study, hanging on the wall beside his desk was a series of old comical prints, showing foxes dressed up as humans, drinking and smoking or lounging round a table playing cards.

  With his waxed moustache and long pointed nose, Mr. Shawcroft looked just like one of those russet-tailed, beady-eyed beasts as he waited for his bride to join him and become his wife.

  Dorianna noticed this resemblance again after the wedding, as the assembled guests were sitting down to the wedding breakfast.

  Mr. Shawcroft stood up to make a short speech and then began reading out messages of congratulations from the guests who had not been able to attend in person.

  As he held up the last telegram, he hesitated for a moment and Dorianna thought she saw his chest puffing up with pride.

  “Albert, Prince of Wales,” read Mr. Shawcroft, his little eyes gleaming, “sends us his heartfelt congratulations and regrets that due to certain important State engagements he is unable to be with us on this most special day.”

  Mr. Shawcroft looked up at the guests and smiled, looking, with his sharp eyes and pointed nose, so like a fox that had just stolen a fat chicken from the coop.

  “We shall look forward,” he added, “to welcoming His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales, to Ashburton Hall at his earliest convenience, shall we not, my dear?”

  And he turned to Mama, who nodded silently.

  The Prince of Wales had been an acquaintance of Dorianna’s parents, and there had often been talk of him visiting the Hall during the hunting and shooting seasons, although he had never actually come.

  Dorianna’s heart ached as she recalled her dearest Papa and how delighted he would have been to welcome ‘Bertie’, the handsome and dashing Prince, to the Hall.

  She did not like to even think that Mr. Shawcroft might be the one who would host his visit.

  The gentl
e voice of dear old Mr. Bentley, who was sitting beside her, roused her from her thoughts.

  “You look so pensive, my dear. I hope you are not feeling sad to see your Mama getting married again.”

  “Of course not! She has been lonely and unhappy and things have been very hard for us. Now we will be comfortable and Mr. Shawcroft will give us everything we need and more.”

  Mr. Bentley sighed and his pale blue eyes looked away from Dorianna and focused on Mr. Shawcroft, who was laughing and joking with his fair-haired Best Man and trying to push him onto his feet to make his speech.

  “But what is wrong, Mr. Bentley?” she asked him gently. “Something is troubling you.”

  The elderly gentleman shook his head.

  “I am quite sure that all will be well, my dear, but nothing is certain these days. The younger generation have no thought for care, thrift and hard work – ”

  And then he smiled at Dorianna.

  “What am I saying? It’s a joyful day for you and your dear sweet Mama. And Mr. Shawcroft has been an exceptionally lucky man so far – who is to say that his luck will not continue?”

  Dorianna wondered what he meant, but she thought that maybe he was just referring to Mr. Shawcroft’s good fortune in being married to her Mama.

  The Best Man then gave a loud honking guffaw of laughter and staggered to his feet.

  He began his speech, but it was hard to hear what he was saying, as he constantly looked down as he spoke and mumbled the words into his collar.

  After a moment or two he turned his round red face in Dorianna’s direction and muttered some words about a ‘charming bridesmaid’.

  Then he turned back to Mr. Shawcroft and gave out another great honk of laughter.

  Mr. Bentley sighed again.

  “I can’t hear a word he’s saying,” he whispered to Dorianna. “What a silly young goose he is.”

  She smiled to herself.

  The young man was exactly like a goose with his large round belly and his shock of almost white hair.

  They would make an amusing painting to hang on any wall – the fox and the goose, side by side, yapping and honking as they sat in front of plates laden with rich food.

  *

  Dorianna sighed inwardly at the memory and pulled her thoughts back into the present moment, where now she sat at the long dining table with just Mama for company.

  She looked down at the bowl in front of her.

  The last spoonful of potato soup was gone.

  Dorianna laid down her spoon and shivered, as she remembered how carefree and innocent she had been that first time she had seen Lord Buxton.

  He had seemed quite harmless and amusing at her Mama’s wedding.

  A clumsy, shy young man who could hardly get his words out – the silly goose, as Mr. Bentley had so rightly judged.

  She had had no idea then what an important part he was going to play in her life.

  How would she have felt on that happy day, if she had known that before the year was out that she would be engaged to be married to that very same goose?

  Margorie was creeping around the table, removing the empty soup bowls. Then she served the next course, a thick stew with small pieces of meat, swedes and carrots.

  “Gaargh! Rabbit again!”

  Mr. Shawcroft shoved his plate away, pushing it roughly across the polished table.

  “Thank goodness, we shall all enjoy a better dinner tomorrow when we arrive at Rouston Hall.”

  He now looked across at Dorianna and smiled his lopsided smile.

  “I trust you’ll mind your manners when we arrive,” he advised. “You may be pretty and a fair-haired woman is always a distinct bonus when it comes to match-making, but Buxton won’t stand for any nonsense.”

  Dorianna felt a chill run down her spine.

  “I am quite sure that I have never been anything but polite to Lord Buxton,” she retorted.

  “Ha!”

  Mr. Shawcroft’s foxy face creased into a frown.

  “That’s just the problem, Missy. You’re too chilly with him. Warmth, that’s just what a man likes. Buxton’s a shy, sensitive lad. You’ll frighten him off with your ice maiden act and we don’t want that now, do we?”

  “I am very sorry if that is how I appear. It is not my intention at all to be cold.”

  She tried to smile at her Step-papa, but her stomach churned as she tried to imagine herself being affectionate and warm towards Lord Buxton.

  Mr. Shawcroft rose from his place to stand behind Dorianna’s chair.

  He picked up a strand of her long fair hair and ran it through his fingers.

  “We’ve almost got him now. Just another thirty-six hours and he’ll be in the bag! And once you’re married, young lady, you can behave as you like!”

  He chuckled to himself and gave Dorianna’s hair a sharp little tug.

  He then strolled out of the dining room, banging the door behind him and leaving his food untouched.

  He did not speak a word to Mama or even look at her as he left.

  ‘He surely practices what he preaches,’ she thought to herself. ‘For his behaviour towards my dear Mama has completely changed and now he always does exactly what he likes without any thought for how she must feel.’

  Dorianna watched her Mama, eating her rabbit stew calmly, taking tiny elegant bites as if it was the finest French cuisine, and her heart ached as she recalled the evening of that wedding day, when all had seemed so hopeful and so exciting.

  *

  She let her mind run back to the last moments she had spent alone with her newly married Mama, now Mrs. Shawcroft, before she left on her honeymoon.

  Mr. Shawcroft had arranged for the honeymoon to be spent in the Channel Islands and Dorianna had gone upstairs to help her Mama change for the journey.

  The satin and crystal gown was laid aside and Mrs. Shawcroft gasped with relief as the corset was loosened and her daughter helped her into in a more comfortable travel costume of soft lilac velvet.

  “I am exhausted,” she sighed, as Dorianna hooked up her dress. “I would like nothing better than to stay at home and cuddle up on the sofa with Toby and Maria.”

  Dorianna fetched some lavender water and dabbed it on her Mama’s forehead with a silk handkerchief.

  “It will be an adventure, Mama!” she enthused. “It will be so exciting to travel to the Islands on a boat.”

  Dorianna almost wished that she could go too.

  She pictured the sun shining on white-capped waves and the green rocky islands of Jersey and Guernsey rising up out of the sea – and her heart beat faster at the thought.

  There were tears in Mama’s eyes as she reached out and caught Dorianna’s hands.

  “I shall not be gone too long,” she said, a quiver in her voice. “I hope you will not be too lonely without us, my darling.”

  “Mama, you must not worry about me!” Dorianna cried, “you must enjoy your honeymoon and be happy!”

  “Of course, of course. Yes, I am happy. Happy to think that all will be well now here at the Hall and that you, my dearest daughter, will want for nothing.”

  “We are so lucky, Mama! Just think of how hard our life has been. And now that is all over.”

  The garden boy had just arrived to carry the bags downstairs and Mama clung to her daughter’s arm as they followed him down to the entrance hall.

  Mr. Shawcroft was already waiting by the carriage and he helped Mama to climb up the little iron steps.

  “Come along, my love,” he called, as he guided her through the carriage door, “let Cupid speed our chariot on its way. We don’t want to miss the boat.”

  He climbed into the carriage after her and slammed the door shut.

  Then he pulled down the window and leaned out.

  “Be very good, young lady,” he said to Dorianna, showing his teeth in a sideways smile. “We’ll be back for Derby Day, never fear!”

  And then he closed the window and rapped on the roof and they rattle
d away down the long gravel drive.

  *

  Dorianna chewed on her rabbit stew slowly.

  It was tough and if she had not been so hungry she would not have been able to get through it at all.

  She recalled how puzzled she had been by what her Step-papa had said to her as he drove away.

  Why should a horse race be so important to him? Of course, everyone knew all about the Derby – it was the most famous race of the year – but why was he thinking about it on his wedding day?

  How could she have been so naïve, back then?

  Now everything was so clear and obvious, but even after Mama and Step-papa had returned from honeymoon, it was some weeks before the true situation emerged.

  *

  Mr. Shawcroft came back from the Channel Islands full of energy and enthusiasm.

  At once he began the task of interviewing servants for Ashburton Hall and found a new butler, McFadyean, and a whole bevy of parlour maids and footmen to bring the service at the Hall back up to a very high standard.

  “We can’t have anything second-rate, if we are to entertain the Prince of Wales here,” he counselled, winking at Dorianna.

  He also engaged builders, decorators and gardeners to refurbish the Hall, repairing, repainting and planting so that everything should look as good as new.

  He was most concerned with the front aspect of the Hall and the formal front garden with its neat flowerbeds and little box hedges.

  But he did not intend to stop there.

  “All that untidy woodland at the back of the Hall needs pulling up,” he commented to Mama at dinner one day. “That must be our next project.”

  Dorianna’s heart beat faster, as she thought of the shaded paths she loved to walk along with her Papa, and the secret statues hidden away under the trees.

  She did not want them to be discovered and maybe taken down and thrown away by Mr. Shawcroft.

  “Neville, my dear, surely we must not overstretch ourselves,” Mama advised gently. “We really are spending a fortune on all the works at the Hall. Would it not perhaps be wise to wait a little before we take on anything more?”

  Dorianna looked gratefully at Mama.

  Mr. Shawcroft was not deflected.

  His eyes shone with excitement as he reached over and seized his wife’s hand, pressing it to his lips.