by Betty Neels
His cool ‘very nice!’ when he arrived was rather less than she had hoped for and his further: ‘The dress is pretty,’ although truthful, hardly flattered her, but she thanked him politely, tucked Waterloo up in his box and picked up the new fur coat. It was almost frightening how the touch of his cool hands on her shoulders as he held it for her sent her insides seesawing.
The evening was a great success; Clare, Miriam and Stacey had been fetched by the best man whose name Caro, in her excitement, didn’t catch, although she remembered afterwards that he had said that he had an English wife who had just had a baby, and Sir Eustace and his wife arrived a few minutes after them. They all looked very elegant, Caro considered, drinking champagne cocktails in the elegant room Radinck had taken her to; her friends did credit to the occasion and sadly seemed on better terms with their host than she did. Just as he did with them. It was strange, she mused a little cloudily because of the champagne, that he should want to marry her when she never amused him, but there again, she couldn’t imagine any of them allowing him to lead the quiet, studious life he seemed to enjoy. But her low spirits didn’t last for long; the ring was admired, as was the coat, and her friends’ pleasure at her change of fortune was genuine enough. And Lady Jenkins, under the impression that it was a love match and knowing that Caro had no parents, became quite motherly.
They dined late and at leisure at the round table set up in the Professor’s sitting room at the hotel. Iced melon was followed by lobster thermidor and rounded off with ices, trifle and charlotte russe. They drank champagne and over coffee the Professor observed that it hardly seemed right to have a wedding cake before the wedding, but he had done his best to substitute that with petits fours, covered in white icing and decorated with silver leaves and flowers.
It was almost midnight when the party broke up and everyone went home, cracking jokes about seeing them at the church in the morning. When they had all gone, Caro put on her coat once more and was driven back to Meadow Road, making polite conversation all the way. She only stopped when Radinck remarked: ‘You’re very chatty—it must be the champagne.’
He didn’t sound annoyed, though, only a little bored, so she said, ‘Yes, I expect it is,’ and lapsed into silence until they reached the house. He got out first, opened her door and went with her up the stairs, to take the key from her hand and open the door. The contrast after the spacious elegance of the hotel room was cruel, but he didn’t say anything, only gave her back her key, cautioned her to be ready when he came for her in the morning and wished her goodnight.
‘Goodnight,’ said Caro hurriedly, because she hadn’t thanked him yet and he seemed in a hurry to be gone. ‘It was a delightful dinner party, thank you, Radinck.’ And when he muttered something she added: ‘I’ll be ready when you come.’
She smiled at him and shut the door quite briskly, leaving him on the landing. She loved him so very much, but she mustn’t let that weaken her resolve to alter his stern outlook on life. She suspected that he was a man who had always had his own way, even to shutting a door when he wanted to and not a moment before. A small beginning, but she had to start somewhere.
She slept dreamlessly with Waterloo curled up in a tight ball on her feet and was up much earlier than she needed to be, and true to her word, she was dressed and ready when Radinck came for her. Waterloo and her luggage were to be collected after the ceremony. Caroline cast a look round the little room and followed Radinck down the stairs to the car. The drive to the church was a short one and they hardly spoke. At the door she was handed over to Sir Eustace waiting in the porch and given a small bouquet of rich yellow roses which the Professor took from the back of the car. He nodded briefly at her and just for a moment she panicked, staring up at him with eyes full of doubt, and he must have seen that, for he smiled suddenly and she glimpsed the man under the calm mask and all her doubts went. If he could smile like that once, he could do it again, and she would make sure that he did. She took Sir Eustace’s arm and walked firmly down the aisle to where Radinck, towering over everything in sight, waited for her.
She had no clear recollection of the ceremony. The best man had given her an encouraging smile as she reached Radinck’s side, but the Professor didn’t look at her at all. Indeed, he looked rather grim during the short service. Only as he put the ring on her finger he smiled slightly. She wanted to smile too, but she didn’t; she would have to remember to remain friendly and undemanding quite without romantic feelings; he didn’t hold with romance. That was something else which she had to alter.
There was to be no wedding breakfast. Everyone said goodbye in the church porch and Caro got into the car beside Radinck, not feeling in the least married and resolved to change his life for him. Indeed when Clare put her head through the window and exclaimed: ‘Good lord, you’re a baroness now!’ she started to deny it and then declared: ‘I’d forgotten that— Oh, dear!’ She looked so woebegone at the idea that Clare laughed at her.
The Professor didn’t intend to waste time; Caro’s luggage was put in the boot, Waterloo, in a travelling basket, was arranged on the back seat, and with a hurried word to Mrs Hodge, who looked aggrieved because it hadn’t been a proper wedding at all, Caro settled herself tidily beside the Professor. Afterwards, she had no very clear recollection of the journey either. They travelled by Hovercraft from Dover and although they stopped for lunch and again for tea, she had no idea what they had talked about or what she had eaten. The Professor had laid himself out to be pleasant and she had been careful not to chat, answering him when he made some observation but refraining from discussing the morning’s ceremony. It was he who asked her if she had been pleased with her wedding, in much the same manner as someone asking if she had enjoyed her lunch, and she told him yes, it had been very nice—a colourless statement, but she could think of nothing better to say. She did enquire the name of the best man and was told he was Tiele Raukema van den Eck, not long married to an English girl. ‘You must meet her,’ suggested the Professor casually. ‘She’s rather a nice little thing—they’ve just had a son.’
It seemed there was no more to be said on the subject. Caro sat quietly as they sped northward and wondered if Noakes and the other servants would be glad to see her. Radinck had said that they had missed her, but going back as the lady of the house was quite a different kettle of fish.
She need not have worried. They were greeted with wide smiles and a great deal of handshaking and when that was done, Noakes led them into the drawing room where, on a small circular table in the centre of the room, was a wedding cake. Caro stopped short and gave a delighted laugh. ‘Radinck, how kind of you to think of…’
She looked at him, still laughing, and saw at once that she had been mistaken. He was as surprised as she was—it must have been Noakes.
He was standing in the doorway with Juffrouw Kropp and Marta and the others grouped around him, waiting to be praised like eager children. Caro hoped that they hadn’t heard her speak to Radinck; she turned to them now. ‘Noakes, all of you—what a wonderful surprise! We’re both thrilled; it is the most beautiful cake. Thank you—all of you.’ She went on recklessly: ‘I’m going to cut it now and we’ll all have a piece with some champagne. We were going to have the champagne anyway, weren’t we, Radinck?’
She turned a smiling face towards him, her eyes beseeching him to act the part of a happy bridegroom. After all, it was only for once; every other night he could go to his study and spend the evenings with his books.
He met her look with a mocking smile she hoped no one else saw. ‘But certainly we will drink champagne,’ he agreed. ‘Noakes, fetch up half a dozen bottles and get someone to set out the glasses. And thank you all for this magnificent cake.’ He repeated it all in Dutch and there was handclapping and smiling and a good deal of bustling to and fro until the champagne had been brought and they went to cut the cake. Caroline, handed the knife by Noakes and alone with the Professor at the table for a moment, said softly; ‘I’m afraid it’s t
he custom for us both to hold the knife…’
His hand felt cool and quite impersonal and touched her only briefly. He was disliking the happy little ceremony very much, she knew that; perhaps it reminded him of his first wedding. He’d been in love then…
They ate the cake and drank the champagne and presently Juffrouw Kropp took Caroline upstairs to her room to tidy herself for dinner. It was a different bedroom this time; a vast apartment in the front of the house with an equally vast bed with a brocade coverlet to match the blue curtains and beautiful Hepplewhite furniture. A bathroom led from it and on the other side a dressing room, another bathroom and another bedroom, all leading one to another. Juffrouw Kropp beamed and smiled before she went away, and left alone, Caro explored more thoroughly; it was all very splendid but comfortable too. She tidied herself, did her hair and went downstairs again to join Radinck in the drawing-room, where they made conversation over their drinks before going in to dinner.
Marta had excelled herself with little spinach tarts, roast duckling with black cherries and a bombe surprise. Caro, desperately maintaining a conversation about nothing much, ate some of everything although she had no appetite, because Marta would be upset to see her lovely dishes returned to the kitchen half eaten, and she drank the hock Noakes poured for them, a little too much of it, which was a good thing because it made her feel falsely cheerful.
They had their coffee in the drawing-room and Noakes went away with a benign smile which drew down the corners of the Professor’s mouth so that Caro, now valiant with too much drink, said cheerfully: ‘You’ve hated every minute of it, haven’t you, Radinck? But I’m going to my room in a few minutes, only before I go I’d like to thank you for giving me such a nice wedding.’ She added kindly: ‘It’s only this one evening, you know, you won’t have to do it ever again. You asked me not to disturb your life, and I won’t, only they all expected…’She pinkened faintly. ‘Well, they expected us to look—like…’
‘Exactly, Caroline.’ He had got to his feet. ‘I’m only sorry that I didn’t think of the wedding cake.’ He smiled at her: it was a kind, gentle sort of smile and it held a touch of impatience. She said goodnight without fuss and didn’t linger. She thought about that smile later, as she got ready for bed. It had been a glimpse of Radinck again, only next time, she promised herself, he would smile without impatience. It might take a long time, but that was something she had.
She woke early while it was still almost dark. She had opened the door to the verandah outside her room before she got into her enormous bed, and Waterloo, after a long sound sleep on her feet after his lengthy journey and hearty supper, was prowling up and down it, talking to her. She got up, put on her new quilted dressing gown and slippers and went to join him.
The sky was getting paler every minute, turning pink along the horizon; it was going to be a lovely November day, bright and frosty. Somewhere Caroline could hear Rex barking and the sound of horses’ hooves and then Radinck’s whistle to the dog. So that was what he did before breakfast. She vowed then and there to learn to ride.
One of the maids, Ilke, brought her her early morning tea presently, and told her smilingly that breakfast would be at half past eight, or would she rather have it in bed?
Caro elected to go downstairs. She had never had her breakfast in bed, for there had been no one to bring it to her, and the idea didn’t appeal to her very much. She bathed and put on her suit and one of the Marks and Spencer sweaters and went down to the hall. It was absurd, but she wasn’t sure where she was to breakfast. When she had been staying in the house she had seen only the library, the drawingroom and the dining-room, but there were several more doors and passages leading from the hall and she had no idea where they led. She need not have fussed; Noakes was waiting to conduct her to a small, cosy room leading off the hall, where there was a bright fire burning and a table laid ready for her. Of the Professor there was no sign and she thought it might sound silly if she asked Noakes where he was, so she bade him a smiling good morning, and while she made a good breakfast, listened to his carefully put advice.
‘There’s Juffrouw Kropp waiting ter show yer the ’ouse, ma’am, and then Marta ’opes yer’ll go to the kitchens and take a look at the menu, and anything yer wants ter know yer just ask me. We’re all that ’appy that yer’re ’ere, ma’am.’
‘Noakes, you’re very kind to say so, and I’m happy too. When I’ve found my feet we must have some more singing—I still think we should do something about Christmas, don’t you?’ She remembered something. ‘And, Noakes, I want your help. Is there someone who can teach me to ride? I—I want to surprise the Professor.’
His cheerful face spread into a vast smile. ‘Now ain’t that just the ticket—the Professor, ’e rides a treat, great big ’orse ’e’s got, too, but there’s a pony as is ’ardly used. Old Jan’ll know—I’ll get ’im to come and see yer and I’ll come wiv ’im.’
‘Thank you, Noakes—it must be a secret, though.’ Caroline finished her coffee and got up from the table. ‘I’m going to fetch Waterloo and take him round the house with Juffrouw Kropp, then he’ll feel at home. Where’s Rex?’
‘Gone with the Professor. Most days ’e does, ma’am.’
It took all of two hours to go over the house. She hadn’t realised quite how big it was, with a great many little passages leading to small rooms, and funny twisted stairs from one floor to the next as well as the massive front staircase. She would have got lost if it hadn’t been for Juffrouw Kropp, leading her from one room to the next, waiting patiently while she examined its contents, and then explaining them in basic Dutch so that Caro had at least some idea of them. They were all beautifully furnished and well-kept, but as far as she could make out, never used. A house full of guests, she dreamed to herself, all laughing and talking and dancing in the evening in that lovely drawing-room and riding out in the mornings, with her riding even better than the best there. She sighed and Juffrouw Kropp asked her if she were tired, and when she shook her head in vigorous denial, preceded her downstairs to visit the glories on the ground floor.
The drawing-room she knew, also the library and the morning-room. Now she was conducted round a second sitting-room, furnished with deep armchairs, a work table from the Regency period, several lamp tables and two bow-fronted display cabinets. A lovely room, but not used, she felt sure. Well, she would use it. There was a billiard room too, a garden room and a small room furnished with a desk and chair and several filing cabinets—used by the secretary, Caroline supposed. There was a luxurious cloakroom too and a great many large cupboards as well as several rooms lined with shelves and a pantry or two.
She hoped she would remember where each of them was if ever she needed it, although she couldn’t think why she should. The first floor had been easy enough; her own room and the adjoining ones took up half the front corridor and most of one side, and the half a dozen bedrooms and their bathrooms on that floor took up the rest of its space; the smaller rooms and passages she would have to explore later.
She drank her coffee presently, concentrating on what she had seen, reminding herself that it was hers now as well as Radinck’s and he would expect her to be responsible for his home. She had no intention of usurping Juffrouw Kropp’s position, but it was obvious that even that experienced lady expected her to give orders from time to time.
The kitchens she already knew, but now it was a question of poking her mousy head into all the cupboards and lobbies and dressers while it was explained to her what was in all of them and then, finally, she was given a seat at the kitchen table and offered the day’s menu. Noakes translated it for her while Marta waited anxiously to see if she would approve, and when that had been done to everyone’s satisfaction, Noakes led her back to the smaller sitting-room, where she had decided to spend her leisure and where after a few minutes Jan was admitted.
Noakes had to act as go-between, of course, but Jan agreed readily enough to teaching her. The pony, he agreed with Noakes, was j
ust right since the Baroness was small and light. Caro, who had forgotten that she was a baroness, felt a little glow of pleasure at his words. They decided that she should begin the very next morning, and well pleased with herself, she got her coat and took herself off for a walk.
She lunched alone, since the Professor didn’t come home, and in the afternoon she curled up in the library and had another go at her Dutch. She would have to have lessons, for she was determined to learn to speak it as quickly as possible, but in the meantime she could at least look up as many words as she could. She and Juffrouw Kropp were to go through the linen cupboard on the following morning. She would make her companion say everything in her own language and she would repeat it after her; she would learn a lot that way. And tomorrow she would get Noakes to drive her into Leeuwarden so that she could buy some wool and fill her time with knitting. More flowers about the house too, she decided, and an hour’s practice at the piano each day. There was more than enough to keep her busy.
She went upstairs to change after her solitary tea; she put on her wedding dress again and then went to the drawing-room to wait for Radinck, taking a book with her so that it wouldn’t look as though she had been there ages, expecting him.
When he did get home, only a short time before dinner, she wished him a cheerful good evening, volunteered no information as to her day, hoped that he had had a good one himself and took up her book again. He had stressed that she wasn’t to interfere with his way of living and she would abide by it. She accepted a drink from him and when he excused himself on the plea of work to do before dinner, assured him that she didn’t mind in the least.
They met at the dinner table presently and over an unhurried meal talked comfortably enough about this and that, and as they got up to go into the drawing-room for their coffee Caro said diffidently: ‘Don’t come into the drawing-room unless you want to, Radinck. I’ll get Noakes to bring coffee to your study.’
