The Shadow of Langley Hall

by Dilys Xavier

  When she returned to Langley Hall, Catherine found a message waiting for an urgent reply. She glanced at the phone number, and recognised immediately that it was from Monica Swift-Jones, who was one of those people who did not take no for an answer. She had hovered on the fringe of society for years without being accepted and then quite unexpectedly she had met and married a brigadier. Since then she had devoted her time to promoting various charities.

  As she gazed at the note, Catherine realised she had completely forgotten about the annual fund raising dinner. The venue had been held at the manor for the past six years and they had used the same suppliers and caterers during that whole period. They were aware of what was required so would only need a verbal confirmation to go ahead. Of course Monica may have already made other arrangements, but surely she would be aware that Richard was now the rightful owner of the estate. By the time she had picked up the phone Catherine had convinced herself that Monica just wanted to wish her well for the future.

  ‘Hello, daahling,’ the woman gushed. ‘I do hope I haven’t inconvenienced you, but you didn’t reply to my letter and I wondered if you had forgotten we only have a few weeks until the big day.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t forgotten it,’ Catherine lied glibly, ‘it’s just that things have been in a bit of a turmoil lately and I haven’t been able to give it my full attention.’

  ‘Good, when shall I pop over to work out the details? Will ten o’clock tomorrow be all right?’

  Catherine vacillated for a moment and then agreed. After the woman had said goodbye, she rang the solicitor to tell him about the property she wanted to buy. Then she spent the next half-hour trying to find suitable temporary stabling for her three horses. When she drew a blank every time, she decided to ask Richard if she could to leave them at the manor in the short term.

  Monica Swift-Jones breezed into the manor the following morning and air kissed Catherine’s cheek. She still effected the same plumy accent that she had cultivated when she began to make her way up the social ladder. Everyone knew it was faked, but they accepted it as just another one of her idiosyncrasies. As always she looked around the hall, taking in every detail and sighing as though she had never been inside the place before. Again it was all just part of her act.

  ‘You are so fortunate to have such a lovely home, dahling,’ she effused, and then she stopped and involuntarily put a hand to her mouth. ‘Oh dear, I’d forgotten that it’s not yours anymore.’ When Catherine remained silent, she looked crestfallen. ‘Oh dear, I should have tried to make some other arrangement this year. Oh dear, I am sorry, really I am.’

  ‘Never mind, we’ll work something out,’ Catherine said quietly. ‘It’s probably too late to change things now, anyway.’

  ‘But what about the new owner, won’t he object?’ Monica pursed her lips.’ Maybe we could involve him somehow and if he sees how important it is to the charity, we’ll be assured of our welcome next year.’ She paused and looked questioningly at Catherine. ‘What do you think?’

  This is absolutely crazy, Catherine thought. It’s bad enough that I have to honour my promise to stage the charity dinner, under the circumstances, but now I’m expected to include Richard Carlisle as well. She was about to say it was impossible when something made her stop. Yes, of course, he should take some of the responsibility now that he had established his birth right and connection with the manor. A small smile played around the corners of her mouth.

  ‘Leave it with me, Monica.’ She started shepherding the woman towards the door. ‘I’ll ring you as soon as I’ve confirmed things. In the meantime go ahead with everything as planned.’

  She returned to the sitting room, picked up the phone and put it down again. No, she thought, I’ll write him a letter; make it official. That would be far more effective. She folded the letter and slipped in into an embossed envelope bearing the family crest and then rang a local courier to have the letter delivered immediately to Richard’s office or, failing that, to his home address.

  Before replacing the receiver she dialled her cousin’s phone number in Ireland.

  ‘Aah, Catherine I was just thinking about you,’ Louise cried, excitedly. ‘I was wondering what you were doing. Have you completed the hand-over yet?’

  ‘No, but it’s all been settled. I had intended to visit you again soon, only I’d forgotten about the charity dinner we host each year, so I’ll have to wait until that’s over before I can leave.’

  ‘And have you found another property yet?’

  ‘I’ve put in an offer on one, but I don’t know if it’s been accepted.’

  ‘Well, now take care of yourself and pop over as soon as you’re free.’

  ‘Thanks, Louise. I’ll ring you in a couple of weeks.’ She was about to say goodbye, when she added, ‘Oh, and say hello to Liam from me.’

  Richard phoned that evening.

  ‘You’ve caught me by surprise,’ he began, ‘I didn’t expect anything like this.’

  ‘You’ll have to get used to being in the public eye from now on,’ Catherine said, trying to keep a chuckle out of her voice. ‘Langley Hall hosts a number of functions during the year and you’ll be expected to carry on the tradition.’ She waited until he had absorbed what she had said and then continued, ‘I think we had better get together as soon as possible and discuss what has to be done.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I can come this evening if you’re free.’ When she agreed he added, ‘I can be there in about an hour.’

  He parked the Saab outside the manor and looked around slowly before making his way to the door. Pippa greeted him when he rang the bell and showed him into the sitting room. Catherine studied him as he slumped down on a nearby chair; it was a complete contrast to his vibrant demeanour on the night he had attended the dinner party.

  ‘You look tired. Cecile tells me that you’ve been very busy.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘Apparently she’s feeling a bit neglected. She says that your business interests appear to be more important than she is at the moment.’

  ‘I don’t think she has too much to complain about, really,’ Richard said, with a touch of irritation in his voice. ‘But everything has snowballed over the past few months and I need to keep on top of things.’ Then he gave a brief smile. ‘However, that may change in the near future because I’ve received a very good offer for the business, and I’ll probably accept it in the near future. I’ll have time on my hands then.’

  ‘Cecile likes to be the centre of a man’s attention, but I suppose you’re aware of that. If she feels ignored she has a tendency to start looking the field over again. You’ll need to keep her amused, otherwise ...’ Catherine left the sentence unfinished.

  Richard mentally compared the two women again. The dark, voluptuous woman to whom he was engaged, and this almost willowy, sophisticated blonde. Once again he wondered what would have happened had he not fallen for Cecile’s obvious charms, and pursued Catherine instead. Of the two, she was the obvious one to be mistress of Langley Hall, with her natural grace and poise, as well as her background. But of course right now he shouldn’t even be entertaining such thoughts; it was too late to consider what might have been. He coughed nervously before speaking.

  ‘Before we discuss the reason for my visit, I’d like to speak frankly to you about something that is weighing on my mind.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘When I discovered that I was related to Sir Hugh, my first reaction was one of exuberance. I saw myself as lord of the manor, a voice in local affairs and a genial host, but over the past few months I’ve had time to reassess my feelings and I’ve come down to earth again, one could say.’ Richard coughed nervously again. ‘I’m feeling somewhat embarrassed by your honesty and goodwill towards me. You haven’t made me feel like an interloper who has usurped your position or deprived you of your home, and I feel overwhelmed by your attitude.’

  Catherine felt her eyes prick with tears as she listened to his sincere words.

  ‘I don’t k
now that I could have been so ... so noble.’ He stopped and looked beseechingly at her. ‘I suppose what I’m really trying to say is - thank you - for making it so much easier than I expected. And I want you to know that had I met you under different circumstances, and come to understand what all this means to you, I might have acted differently.’

  ‘What are you saying, Richard?’

  ‘If I had known you better, and understood your relationship with Langley Hall, I might not have pursued the matter with such urgency or enthusiasm. I might even have left things as they were.’ He sighed. ‘I’m pretty well positioned financially, so I don’t have a desperate need for the inheritance, but unfortunately it’s a bit late to change things now.’

  Catherine looked at him in amazement.

  ‘I don’t know what to say Richard; I’m dumbfounded. I won’t try to comment on what you’ve just said, but I thank you for your consideration of my feelings.’

  A comfortable silence engulfed them for a few minutes until Richard’s mobile rang. He answered the call, told the caller that it was an inconvenient time to talk and that he would ring back as soon as possible.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said, ‘but it’s the price of success.’ He put the phone back in his pocket. ‘Now, tell me about this charity business.’

  Over the next half hour, Catherine outlined what was expected of them as hosts. Then at his insistence she explained in detail the catering arrangements, the siting of the marquee and a range of other things that needed addressing. He wiped a hand wearily over his brow as she concluded with the words, ‘There’s a lot more to this place than meets the eye. It’s a big responsibility.’ She handed him a manila folder. ‘This contains all the information regarding the logistics of the event and a few notes regarding my ... er … your role in the proceedings.’

  Richard looked concerned as he scanned the contents of her hand written letter.

  ‘You mean, I ... do I have to ...’ He stopped and looked at her beseechingly. ‘You don’t expect me to remember all this do you? I’ll never ...’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t throw you to the lions, I’ll be on hand to help you out.’

  By the time he had said goodnight, and made his way out of the manor grounds he had an even greater appreciation of Catherine Lowestoffe. She could have just handed the whole problem over to him, but she had graciously offered to ensure he did not make a complete fool of himself in front of the people he would have to associate with in the future.

  He mentally tossed up whether he should drive straight home or call on Cecile first. Turning left at the next intersection he took a short cut through the village and headed for her apartment. Catherine’s comment about her came back to taunt him: ‘She likes to be the centre of a man’s attention. If she feels neglected she has a tendency to start looking the field over again.’ He was already well aware of Cecile’s need for attention and had noticed her flirting openly with men on more than one occasion.

  They can flirt with her as much as they like, he had said to himself at the time, but I’m the one who takes her to bed. Nevertheless it disturbed him and so had the phone call from Jacques. It was quite obvious that she still enjoyed the man’s attention, even if he were miles away on the end of a telephone line.

  Cecile’s greeting was rather subdued when she opened the door.

  ‘You look as if you could use a drink,’ she said, leading the way into the sitting room. ‘I was expecting you much earlier.’ There was a hint of sarcasm about her tone. ‘You might as well put a camp bed in the corner of your office; it would be easier than driving back and forth all the time.’

  ‘Hopefully, it won’t be for much longer,’ Richard said, ignoring her cutting remarks. ‘I’ve agreed to sell the operation to that European consortium. It will be all cut and dried in a few weeks – if everything goes to plan.’

  ‘And then what?’

  ‘And then we’ll be able to spend a bit more time together. Maybe take that trip to Lisbon we’ve put on hold. When we get back we can go to Langley Hall and decide where we are going to put things.’ As Richard replenished his glass he glanced at Cecile. ‘That’s a strange look to give me. What’s the problem?’

  ‘Let’s get this straight, Richard. I never said that I’d go to Langley Hall with you,’ Cecile said, softly. ‘I have no intention of going back to the manor once Catherine is gone.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because it’s Catherine’s house, that’s why, and it will always be hers to my mind.’ Cecile sniffed pointedly. ‘I won’t want to go near the place.’

  ‘But I thought we’d live there when we were married,’ Richard said, looking at her closely. ‘I thought you knew that. I can’t leave the place empty. There’s not much point in accepting the inheritance and not living at the manor.’

  ‘I was totally unaware that we’d come to that arrangement,’ Cecile said, frostily. ‘I’m sorry if you misunderstood things, but that’s it. It’s a definite no; I won’t live with you at Langley Hall.’

  Richard wearily wiped a hand over his eyes. He was finding it hard to understand what was being said. He felt as though Cecile had suddenly pulled a rug out from under his feet. He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted time to consider what she was implying.

  ‘I think we need to talk about this some more, but I’m too tired at the moment.’ He climbed wearily to his feet, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘I’ll ring you in the morning, okay?’

  But as he slipped behind the wheel he had the distinct impression that she was about to play games again, so instead of driving straight home, he turned off and headed for Crickleburn.

  ‘Hello, my dear,’ Agnes Frobisher said, with a welcoming smile and brushing aside his apology for calling so late. ‘You’re always welcome you know that. I’ll make a cup of tea shall I?’ She watched him slump down on a kitchen stool. ‘You look tired. Have you been overdoing it lately?’

  ‘You’re the third person to say that this evening.’

  ‘Well, it shows.’ Agnes peered at him closely. ‘I know you’ve been under a lot of pressure at work, but is there something else worrying you? If you want to get anything off your chest, I’m a good listener.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I’m not easily shocked, and I promise I’m the soul of discretion. You know that nothing you tell me will go beyond these four walls.’

  Richard sighed deeply. Where should he begin?

  Agnes patiently coaxed him to reveal all that he had bottled up inside and not admitted even to himself. He was already aware of his genuine concern for Catherine, but it sounded strange to be expressing it again so soon. He pointed out that he had some regrets about signing away his business, even though he knew it was the best thing to do under the circumstances. And finally he spoke about the new worrying development in his relationship with Cecile.

  When he eventually said goodnight, Richard felt a great deal better. Agnes had listened attentively and had made no comment except that should sleep on it.

  ‘Give yourself a chance to find out what’s right for you.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘You’re always welcome to come and talk, you know that.’

  As he let himself into the house, he noticed the red light blinking on his answer-phone. It was message from Cecile, but the words were garbled as if the lines were crossed. He looked at the time and decided to ring her in the morning.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Richard tried Cecile’s number when he reached the office the next morning, but there was no reply and once again he wondered if this the way she normally ended her relationships. His thoughts were interrupted by Nicole with a message from his solicitor concerning the take-over; James Farleigh wanted to arrange another meeting as soon as possible.

  The day seemed to finish before it had started and he did not have time to think about Cecile until he closed the office door behind him that afternoon. He pulled out his mobile and tried her number again, but to no avail. Determined to find out what was going on he call
ed at her apartment on the way home, but there was no response to his knock.

  Later that evening he rang her mother’s number.

  ‘No, Cecile’s not here,’ Liselle said, haughtily. ‘I don’t know where she is just now. She doesn’t usually tell where she going.’ She gave shrill little laugh. ‘I daresay she’ll ring you in due course.’

  It was quite obvious that she was not willing to disclose her daughter’s whereabouts, so he said goodbye and turned on the television. The main game was just about to start so he settled down to watch it with a few beers and the dregs of a bottle of Calvados. He finally went to bed well aware that he had drunk too much.

  He stumbled into the bathroom the next morning and glared at his reflection in the shaving mirror. That was stupid, he thought. I don’t need to prove how much I can drink in a night. As he scraped off the whiskers, Richard thought about Cecile’s reaction to his suggestion that she should help him settle into his new home. The rebuff had caught him by surprise. Her empathic statement that she had no intention of setting foot in the place after Catherine moved out left no room for argument. Maybe she just wanted an excuse to break off the engagement; after all she had been complaining for weeks about his lack of attention. Well, so be it he thought, but why not just say so instead of ignoring him?

  Then he smiled. Farleigh had all but completed the deal with the consortium that had purchased his company and they expected to sign the final agreement by the end of the week. He had promised to make himself available for another week in case they needed any help, which was unlikely, and then he was free. What would he do with his time? Well, the first thing on the agenda was the charity do at the manor. And after that? He would have to start thinking about moving into his new home.

  ‘I’d better put this place on the market,’ he murmured, wiping his face dry and switching off the bathroom light. After all there was no reason to hang onto it any longer.