A Death in the Wedding Party

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘How aristocratic?’

  ‘I told you my father was a vicar. That is true. My mother,’ I hesitated, ‘ my mother is connected to an important family, but there was an argument a long time ago, and the connection was broken.’

  ‘So you are a lady?’

  ‘I am a vicar’s daughter. Nothing more.’

  ‘Bertram, does he know this?’

  I shook my head. ‘The only people who know are my mother, my little brother and you.’

  ‘Well, that’s something,’ said Rory. ‘But when I saw you sitting with them you looked more at home than I have ever seen you among the servants.’

  I put my hand on his chest. ‘I can assure you that every moment I was sitting there I was wishing I was with you all at the kitchen table.’

  Rory bowed his head and covered my hand with his. ‘I do believe you, Euphemia, but we all are what we are. Blood will out. If you love me give up this scheme. It can only lead to trouble.’

  ‘But if I do them this favour they will be in my debt. They will have to agree to let us marry.’

  ‘You’ve said it yourself many a time the Staplefords will do what they want. We are nothing to them.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Give it up, Euphemia. I beg you. If you love me give it up.’

  Chapter Ten

  The Court

  I could find no way to do what Rory wanted. I even made so bold as to suggest to Richenda that she use her knowledge of her royal friend to make her agree to come.

  ‘That only shows how much you have to learn,’ said Miss Richenda scornfully. ‘My friend could never explain to her parents that she had a lover, but she could choose without repercussion to instruct her staff not to contradict any reports of her presence for the sake of not embarrassing an old friend.’

  ‘It won’t work,’ I said.

  ‘Stepmama will be giving you lessons every day until we depart for The Court. I have sent to London for clothes for you. Suzette will act as your maid. I shall take Merry with us as mine. Everything will go well.’

  ‘But the servants …’

  ‘Want to keep their positions. Accept it, Euphemia. For a short period in your dull, little life you will get to play at being a lady. You will always have those memories.’

  ‘Your brother …’

  ‘Thinks this is a great laugh and, before you ask, Tippy will do whatever I ask.’

  I was trapped. I could see no way out. Like Rory I had a deep foreboding this would not end well. Though I could never have suspected what was to happen.

  We arrived at The Court on a sharp summer morning that carried the breath of autumn on the wind. It was late in the afternoon and four days before the wedding. Dinners and rehearsals would take up the next three days.

  ‘The Court’ is, naturally, not its full name, but were I to give the rest of it many people who might wish to remain anonymous in these pages would be exposed. However, for the sake of readers less familiar with the naming conventions of the English great houses, let me assure you that The Court has nothing to do with the Royal Court. It is simply a familiar abbreviation of the house’s name – for example it could have been Dently Court or some such thing. By dropping the identifying name it is implied everyone in the conversation knows where it is and if you don’t then you shouldn’t be part of the conversation in the first place. The upper classes do love their nicknames. After all nicknames are one of the very best ways to exclude the socially inferior. By this I don’t mean the servants, for the true aristocrat cares nothing for his servants’ opinions7, but that awful growing group that is beginning to be known as the middle classes. The Staplefords before the award of their peerage were most definitely middle-class. Of course they knew this, and were among the most vehement in their hatred of the middle classes. But really, I fear I am becoming most radical. I apologise.

  In our little motorcade the family was all present. Merry came as lady’s maid and Rory as valet. None of the other servants the Staplefords had could be trusted with the full secret of my impostor charade and, perhaps more importantly, none of the others knew how to behave in such a grand establishment.

  As the motor entered the final stretch of the tree-lined drive, I saw Richenda blanch, and even Lady Stapleford appeared a little white about the mouth. I saw an Earl’s residence, much like the one my mother had grown up in as a girl. Before us lay a big sprawling house that needed hordes of servants to keep it working, and a building strictly divided by the green baize door. The life upstairs of the betters and the army of lowers working downstairs. The whole structure was like a giant swan with the aristocratic members living a life of ease and leisure and the servants working like devils from dawn to dusk to make their master’s world a better place. However, it did have a very pretty portico.

  The great house threw us into shadow as the car drew up. It was cold enough to make me wish I had chosen a winter dress. Some of the senior servants were lined up along the steps; after all, Richenda was joining the family, even if she would only be the Earl’s great-niece by marriage.

  The lady in question looked decidedly green around the gills. ‘There is a question of prescience,’ hissed Lady Stapleford. ‘As bride-to-be, Richenda, you must go first and I will follow.’

  ‘Actually, we can’t do that,’ I said. ‘If I am a member of a Royal family, even a European one, then I outrank both of you.’

  The colour came back into the cheeks of Lady Stapleford and her lips parted to no doubt utter a scalding response, but the butler was already at my door. He opened it and extended his hand. I gave it to him and he bowed very low. ‘Your Highness, Welcome to The Court.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, inclining my head a fraction. I descended gracefully and for the first time in my life felt grateful to my mother for the hours of deportment she had made me practice.

  ‘Indeed you are most welcome, my dear,’ said an elderly lady dressed in the very best fashion. This must be the Countess. No one else would dare be so informal with royalty. I decided to be gracious.

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You have a lovely house. It reminds me of one of our smaller winter palaces.’

  I heard a gasp of horror from Lady Stapleford behind me, but the Countess looked at me with a twinkle her eyes. ‘Shall we let Robbins see to your luggage? I shall take you up myself.’

  This, naturally enough, elected a gasp from Richenda, who had expected the Countess’s undivided attention. However, the rest of the family were left to the housekeeper, a Mrs Merion, while the Countess escorted me to my very large bedchamber and dressing room, apologizing frequently for the coldness of the house and the ‘rather temperamental’ hot water system.

  I assured her that the house was very lovely, my room extremely tasteful and if she could send my maid and a cup of tea up to me I would like a little time to recover from my journey before pre-dinner drinks.

  Nothing seemed too much and I had barely taken off my outer clothing before there was a tap at the door and Merry appeared carrying a tea tray. She closed the door behind her, carefully supporting the tray with one hand and made her way to an occasional table. Once she had set her burden down she collapsed onto the floor, her fist stuffed into her mouth, as she attempted to stifle the gales of laughter that over took her. Tears of pure joy ran down her face. I poured myself a cup of tea and waited for her to recover herself.

  Eventually Merry sat up and wiped her tears with the edge of her skirt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gulped, ‘but you should have seen Lady Stapleford’s face when the Earless greeted you first! And then Richenda nearly had a cow when you said the house was small.’

  ‘Countess,’ I said. ‘Not Earless.’

  Merry staggered to her feet and dropped me what she obviously thought was a deep curtsey, but looked unfortunately vulgar. ‘I am so sorry, Your ’Ighness.’ This set her off again. Although this time she managed to attain the dignity of sitting on a small sofa rather than rolling around on the floor.

  ‘Merry,�
�� I said seriously, ‘you’re right this whole escape is laughable. But it’s also very dangerous. I said what I did about the Court because the Countess didn’t give me my title. We were establishing our respective social standings. If I’d got that wrong I could have been exposed as a fraud.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What the Staplefords don’t understand is that every conversation I have here will be watched and analysed.’

  ‘You mean they are suspicious?’

  ‘I mean because the English are always sensitive about foreign royalty. They assume all other Royals are not as important as their own, but they are never quite sure where to put us in the social ranking when we visit.’

  ‘’Ow do you know all this?’ asked Merry, her head on one side. ‘Cos the way it looked when we arrived only you knew what to do.’

  ‘That’s how it should be.’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ said Merry. ‘Don’t dodge the question.’

  I sighed. ‘You know my father was a Vicar. Sometimes he had to visit the Archbishop’s Palace and there could be important visitors there.’

  ‘The Archbishop had a palace?’

  I waved this comment aside. ‘It’s just what the residence of a bishop is called. Most of them look nothing like palaces. Anyway Pa got one of these books on etiquette in case he ever met anyone important. I read it. That’s all.’

  ‘But the Staplefords hadn’t a clue.’

  ‘I’m sure they don’t think they are in need of reading etiquette books.’

  ‘Looks to me like they are,’ said Merry watching me very closely.

  ‘I don’t care if they make mistakes,’ I said. ‘I mustn’t. I’m not sure that what I’m doing isn’t illegal.’

  ‘Then why are you doing it? They’re tripling my wages for the time here. That’s my reason. What’s yours?’

  ‘You got a much better deal than me. They said they would fire me if I didn’t do it.’

  ‘Blimey,’ said Merry, ‘they really don’t like you, do they?’

  ‘Something to do with trying to get Lord Stapleford hanged for murder, I expect.’

  ‘That and seducing the younger son of the house.’

  ‘Merry!’ I cried. ‘I have never seduced anyone.’

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ said Merry. ‘You’ve never been one to take advantage of your position like a proper servant would. But you can’t deny Mr Bertram isn’t sweet on you.’

  ‘Honestly, I think Bertram’s feelings for me swing between intense annoyance and mild affection.’

  ‘I’ve seen the intense annoyance,’ said Merry with a grin. ‘Now come here, I’ve got to re-pin all your bloody hair for dinner.’

  ‘I have to have a bath first and change my dress and jewellery.’

  ‘Lord, what a bloody palaver!’ said Merry. ‘I’ll be glad when this is all over.’ I couldn’t help but heartily agree.

  ______________

  7 After all, he pays them not to have any ...

  Chapter Eleven

  Polite Conversation Before Dinner

  I doubt there are more dangerous situations than the English pre-dinner drinks. It is a time when reputations can be shredded, alliances forged or severed and all over a sweet sherry.

  None of the Staplefords had thought to collect me from my chambers, so when the gong went I made my way down the huge marble staircase trusting the noise of social exchange would guide me. The company was standing in the large entrance hall. On all sides ran a mistral’s gallery and the hall itself was the full height of the building. The gaping maw of a fireplace had been banked up with a small forest, but the warmth had not spread and the company were gently jostling for places close to the fire. Their voice mostly high pitched and nasal echoed unpleasantly. A frequent braying laugh betrayed Tippy’s presence. As I descended I saw him with his arm around Richenda’s waist talking to the Earl. A break in the conversation unfortunately carried Tippy’s comment up to echo in the hall, ‘I’m her birthday night surprise,’ he said and brayed again. The Earl’s face became even more stony. He looked much like a hawk who thinks he is swooping down upon a tasty rabbit, only to discover that it is an inedible toad.

  ‘He’s not doing himself any favours, is he?’ said a soft voice at my elbow. The voice had a faint West Country burr. I caught my breath and then turned to see Mr Fitzroy looking down at me.8 He was dressed a great deal more smartly than he had been in the Highlands when we had last met, but there remained something neat, tidy and forgettable about his entire appearance. He gave me a slight, wry smile. ‘Allow me to escort you over to the drinks,’ he said and offered me his arm.

  ‘Sir, have we met?’ I said in crisp English, but a low voice.

  Fitzroy’s answer was even softer. ‘Don’t be foolish, Euphemia Martins.’ I slid my arm through his and allowed his to escort me to a silent, stiff servant, who was holding out a drinks tray. He picked up one for us both and led me towards the window. We were now a little way away from the nearest guests, but clearly in sight of the whole hall.

  ‘I suppose if anyone would see through my disguise it would be you,’ I said taking my drink from him. ‘What do you propose to do?’

  ‘You mean will I give you up?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said swallowing and nodding slightly at a gentleman with a monocle.

  ‘You’re keeping remarkably calm,’ said Fitzroy maddeningly. ‘Tell me there is more to this charade than Richenda Stapleford’ s pride?’

  I gritted my teeth. ‘There is the small matter of keeping my position.’

  ‘I am disappointed,’ said Fitzroy, turning slightly to stare out of the window behind us.

  ‘So?’

  ‘If you had done your homework you would know that the lady you are misrepresenting and I have a history.’

  ‘This is a Stapleford plan,’ I said acidly. ‘Do you think they would have thought things through.’

  Fitzroy frowned. ‘Do you recognise anyone in this room. No, don’t look round, use the reflection.’

  ‘Apart from the Staplefords I now recognise the Earl and his Countess, Tipton, and that looks like Muller, but I doubt I know him in my new persona.’

  ‘You are very ill-prepared.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I doubt I will need to give you up. You’ll do that yourself in a matter of moments.’

  ‘If anyone here has previously met the lady I am misrepresenting then I am lost.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Fitzroy. ‘But she will have heard of many of the people here.’

  ‘Really?’ I asked, arching my eyebrow in a distinctly aristocratic manner.

  Fitzroy gave a low laugh. ‘She will have heard of Tipton elder brother. He’s over by the fireplace. The tallest man. He’s known as Tip-Top among the upper classes, and not ironically.’

  ‘And he’s related to Baggy Tipton?’ I asked astonished.

  ‘I’m here to recruit him. Lots of charm, bored with society and not enough money. All areas I can work with.’

  ‘Why are you telling me all this?’

  ‘I am trying to make conversation,’ said Fitzroy, ‘and I am not in the habit of doing that with people who know what I am.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘My dear girl, I am doing you a favour. I am well aware that the only way Richenda could ensure that the lady in question did not deny that she was ever present would be if she knew her secret.’

  ‘This has all been very interesting,’ I said, ‘but I think I should circulate before your exclusive attention attracts rumours.’

  ‘But that is what I am telling you, my dear. You and I are lovers.’

  ‘W-w-what?’ I gasped.

  ‘I was sent on a mission to gather information about certain areas of her country’s industry. Let’s just say I got rather more than that.’

  I could feel myself blushing horribly.

  ‘Excellent,’ continued Fitzroy. ‘Those in the know will certainly believe now you are who you say you are. Shall I expect you at midnight?’
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  ‘No, you will not,’ I hissed.

  Fitzroy chuckled. ‘You need to learn how to embrace your part.’ He turned away from me and caught the eye of an elder man, who came across to us. ‘My lady allow me to present the Earl of …’

  As he uttered that last word I felt my world rock. The man standing in front of me was no other than my grandfather.

  I fled.

  ______________

  8 See A Death in the Highlands for our last bloody encounter

  Chapter Twelve

  An Interesting Night

  Or I would have fled if Fitzroy’s fingers hadn’t pinched my elbow hard and held me back. I tried to focus on what my relative was saying. ‘… so if you would be so gracious as to allow me to escort you into dinner, your Highness. I’m afraid old Ratty rather feels he has to take in the bride-to-be. I appreciate she is a friend of yours, but she does seem to rather want a bit of a show, what?’

  Your Highness. He had no idea who I was.

  I heard my voice answering. ‘Of course not. I should be delighted to accompany you in to dinner.’

  My grandfather smiled and his face changed, softened. His whole visage was etched with lines and he had the deep complexion of one who had spent much of his life outdoors. He also had a very bristly moustache. I could see the echo of mother in his features. ‘Thank you, my de-your Highness. It will make everything much easier. I shall try very hard not to be too boring an old duffer.’

  ‘I’m sure you could never be that,’ I said. My mind was racing. Could this be my opportunity to discover why my grandfather still refused to acknowledge my mother, even though she was now widowed and thus free from the connection he despised?

  Mr Fitzroy bowed and withdrew. ‘Very charming man, that, Lord Milford’ said my grandfather. ‘Always thought there was something a bit cavey about him.’ He caught himself up with a cough. ‘My apologies. My wife used to be a terrible gossip and now she’s gone I seem rather to have taken up her role. That’s one of the problems of getting old, you don’t get to do things so much. Too creaky in the joints. You end up watching people, don’t you know.’