by Dilly Court
‘Your mother used to spoil me when I was a child. She was the most amazing cook and used to bake my favourite dishes.’ Caroline stepped over the threshold, taking in the serene ambience of the old building with its aura of peace and contentment. It felt like coming home, even though she had never lived here for longer than a few weeks at a time. She could almost feel the house wrapping its arms around her and suddenly she was fighting back tears. She had pushed all thoughts of her old home to the back of her mind, but now they came flooding back and threatened to swamp her.
Jenifry ushered them all inside. ‘Ma decided to give up work a few months ago. She’s got rheumatics and this old place is a bit damp in the winter, so she stays at home in the cottage and sits by the fire, knitting and generally making a nuisance of herself by telling me what to do.’
‘That sounds lovely,’ Maria said wistfully. ‘I’m Maria Colville, by the way, and this is my mama.’ She indicated Grace, who was hanging back, gazing round as if she could hardly believe her eyes.
‘What a beautiful house,’ Grace murmured. ‘I never thought to see the like again.’
Jenifry gave her a cursory glance. ‘You’re very welcome, ma’am. I’ll tell the master that you’re here. We don’t get many visitors these days, so you’ll have to excuse the fact that your rooms won’t be ready for a while.’
‘That’s quite all right. We turned up unexpectedly and I’m sure we could share a room if that would help.’ Caroline glanced round, half expecting to see her uncle materialise. ‘Where is Mr Dorincourt?’
A wry smile curved Jenifry’s lips. ‘Where he be always – in his studio. I’ll show you to the drawing room and get Cook to make up a tray of tea for you. Dinner will be at eight.’
‘Don’t put yourselves out for us. We’re truly grateful for anything,’ Caroline said hastily.
‘If you leave your luggage there I’ll get Dickon to take it up to your rooms.’
‘Dickon?’ Caroline followed Jenifry across the entrance hall. ‘He’s new, I think.’
‘Not so very new, Miss Caroline. Dickon is my son.’
‘I didn’t know you were married, Jenifry.’
‘My husband is a seaman, miss. He sailed away more years ago than I like to remember and never returned. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Thank you, miss. Anyway, I’m known as Mrs Grimes, just like Ma, so everything changes and everything stays the same, as they say.’ Jenifry opened the drawing-room door and they filed into the oak-panelled room. ‘I’ll be back dreckly.’
Caroline breathed in the scent of wax polish and the perfume from a vase filled with garden roses set on a low table in the middle of the room, but that was the only feminine touch visible. Books were scattered on every available surface and a pair of leather slippers had been abandoned in the empty grate. The padded leather sofa and armchairs would not have looked out of place in a gentleman’s club, and a pair of shotguns were propped up against a wooden settle. It was every inch a man’s room and Caroline stood on the red Turkey carpet, wondering whether to sit down and try to make herself comfortable, or to stand there in readiness to greet her uncle.
Maria looked equally uncomfortable and Grace had begun, as if out of habit, to tidy up the piles of books and periodicals that had fallen on the floor.
‘There’s no need to do that, Grace,’ Caroline said hastily. ‘I’m sure the servants will see to it.’
Grace straightened up, standing to attention. ‘I’m sorry, miss. It’s force of habit.’
‘It’s Caroline. You’re not a servant. You’re a guest in this house, Grace.’
‘I’d be happier below stairs. It looks as though they need help.’
Caroline was saved from answering by her uncle, who burst into the room, bringing with him the aroma of linseed oil, turpentine and cigar smoke. Frederick Dorincourt came to a standstill, looking from one to the other with an appreciative smile.
‘Well then, Carrie, my love. What a wonderful surprise.’ He enveloped her in a hug that almost squeezed the breath from her lungs, then held her at arm’s length, taking in every detail of her appearance. ‘You are a sight for sore eyes. You get more beautiful every time I see you. In fact, I must paint you. I insist upon it.’
Caroline looked him up and down. It was several years since they had last met, and he must be at least forty-five, but he had not lost his youthful zest for life and his face was unlined apart from laughter lines at the corners of his blue eyes, which were set beneath straight black brows. The only sign of ageing was the streaks of silver in his long, dark hair, which curled around his head giving him the appearance of an elderly angel, which Caroline knew was far from the truth. Uncle Freddie had a reputation with women and she could see that his roving eye had fallen on Maria.
‘May I introduce my friend Maria Colville?’ Caroline said, remembering her manners. ‘And her mother, Mrs Grace Quick.’
Freddie released Caroline, bowing to Grace and Maria with a courtly gesture. ‘Delighted to make your acquaintance, ladies. It’s a pleasure to have such charming company.’
Maria bobbed a curtsey, but Grace remained aloof, eyeing him suspiciously.
Caroline cleared her throat, sensing the underlying tension in the room, although Freddie seemed totally oblivious to anything other than the fact he was surrounded by pretty women.
‘I’m sorry to descend on you like this, Uncle. It’s a long story, I’m afraid.’
‘Then save it until we are relaxed over a bottle or two of wine at dinner,’ Freddie said, beaming. ‘It was getting devilish dull here and to tell the truth I couldn’t be more pleased to see you. I am in desperate need of models to paint and here you are, lovely ladies descended from artists’ heaven.’
‘Really, Uncle.’ Caroline shook her head. ‘The things you say.’
‘I only speak the truth.’ Freddie took a step backwards, gazing thoughtfully at Grace, who looked away. ‘You, madam, are the most interesting in my eyes. I see pain and suffering etched onto beauty. Come with me now and I’ll start making a few sketches.’
Caroline laid her hand on the sleeve of his velvet smoking jacket, which was splashed with paint. ‘No, Uncle Freddie. I’m sure that can wait until morning. We’ve been travelling all day and we’re all exhausted.’
He sighed and shrugged. ‘Oh, well, I suppose you’re right, but we’ll start first thing in the morning. Do you rise early, Mrs Quick?’
‘I’m a farmer’s wife, sir. I rise at dawn and my name is Grace.’
Freddie took her hands in his, turning them palm upwards. ‘Such lovely hands, worn and calloused by hard work. They tell a story in themselves.’ He raised them to his lips. ‘I should call you Graziella – it suits you much better than Grace, which is a name for serving maids.’
Grace snatched her hands free, giving him a suspicious look. ‘If you’re laughing at me, sir, I don’t think it’s very nice.’
‘I never joke about the serious things in life.’ Freddie sauntered over to a table set with cut-crystal decanters and glasses. ‘Will anyone join me in a tot of the best Armagnac? Or do you ladies prefer to coddle your bellies with tea?’
‘Uncle Freddie, you are impossible,’ Caroline said, chuckling. ‘I can only speak for myself but I would prefer tea.’
‘And I,’ Maria added.
‘I’ll take brandy, sir.’ Grace crossed the floor to join him. ‘After the day I’ve had I think I need something stronger than tea.’ She accepted the glass he proffered and tossed the drink back in one. ‘Thank you.’
Freddie stared at her in amazement and a slow smile lit his eyes and curved his lips. ‘By God, a woman after my own heart. I knew it the moment I saw you. I love a challenge.’
Caroline was beginning to think that coming here was a serious mistake, but Maria was laughing and the colour had returned to Grace’s pale cheeks. Freddie was refilling her glass when the door opened to admit a boy carrying a tray of tea and cak
e. The aroma of warm saffron buns reminded Caroline of previous visits to Devonshire, and she moved swiftly to clear the table.
‘So they’ve got you doing women’s work, have they, Dickon?’ Freddie said, laughing.
‘I don’t mind, sir.’ Dickon placed the tray carefully on the table. He straightened up. ‘I remember you, miss,’ he said, grinning at Caroline. ‘You don’t remember me, though.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not. You’re Jenifry’s son, but I didn’t know she had any children.’
‘Just me, miss. I’m the one and only.’
‘And a cheeky young scamp to boot,’ Freddie said casually. ‘Be off with you, boy. Go and help your mother.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Dickon left the room, chuckling to himself.
‘That boy has the cheek of Old Nick,’ Freddie said, topping up his glass with brandy. He raised it in a toast. ‘Welcome to Starcross Abbey, ladies. I hope your stay will be a long one.’
The door opened and Dickon bounced back into the room. ‘I nearly forgot to say that Ma has made your old room ready, Miss Caroline. The others will be ready soon.’ He retreated before anyone had a chance to comment.
‘Why do you allow him such freedom, Uncle?’ Caroline asked as she poured the tea. ‘I can’t imagine Mama allowing a servant to behave like that.’
‘He’s my son,’ Freddie said calmly. ‘Illegitimate, of course. I’m sorry if that offends you ladies, but these things happen.’
Maria’s hand flew to cover her mouth and her eyes widened in horror. ‘No, really?’
Freddie smiled. ‘You’ve led a sheltered life, Miss Colville. We will have to broaden your education.’
‘You men are all the same.’ With a flick of her wrist, Grace tossed her drink in his face. ‘Touch that girl and you’ll be facing the wrong end of one of those shotguns, and I’m no mean shot, believe me.’
There was a horrified silence. Caroline sat with the teapot poised over a cup and Maria sank down on the nearest chair, staring at her mother in a mixture of shock and amazement. Freddie was the first to recover and he threw back his head and laughed.
Grace glared at him, her lips tightened into a pencil-thin line and her eyes flashing angrily. ‘You are old enough to be her father,’ she hissed. ‘I suppose you think that seducing a servant is your right – well, it isn’t.’
‘Madam,’ Freddie said humbly, ‘I apologise for my coarse remark, and I apologise for being a mere male. I’ve done many things to be ashamed of, but I’ve never forced myself on a woman. I can assure you that Dickon’s mother and I had a passionate relationship that gradually burned itself out. She has my total respect and she will never want for anything. In fact it was she who tired of me, and for that I cannot blame her.’
Grace turned her back on him and went to sit beside Maria. ‘Don’t imagine that I’ll apologise, because I won’t.’
‘I respect your decision.’ Freddie placed his empty glass back on the tray. ‘I will return to my studio, but I will join you for dinner.’ He was about to leave the room, but he hesitated in the doorway. ‘I hope you will still sit for me, Graziella. I long to capture the fiery spirit that you’ve just demonstrated. I knew you were a powerful woman the moment I set eyes on you.’ He left them, closing the door softly behind him.
‘Well!’ Caroline said, sipping her tea. ‘Who would have believed it? You are a dark horse, Grace Quick.’
‘I’ll never use that name again as long as I live,’ Grace said firmly. ‘From now on I am Grace Colville.’ She raised her head to give Maria a long look. ‘You see where uncontrolled passion leads you. Men like Freddie prey on young innocent women.’
‘I don’t think that’s fair,’ Caroline protested. ‘He has stood by Jenifry, and he said that it was she who ended their relationship.’
‘But she’s still a servant.’ Grace stood up. ‘I would like to rest. Would you allow me to use your room until they find somewhere for me to sleep?’
Caroline put her cup and saucer down and rose to her feet. ‘Of course. It’s a long time since I last stayed here, but I think I can remember how to find my old room. Come with me, Grace.’
‘Would you like me to go with you, Mama?’ Maria asked anxiously.
‘No, but thank you anyway. I need to be on my own for a while. I have to think and decide what I ought to do next. I can’t remain here indefinitely.’
Maria jumped to her feet, holding out her hand. ‘We’ll work it out together, Mama.’
‘You don’t understand; neither do you, Caroline. If the truth came out it would be a disaster for all concerned.’
Chapter Eleven
Satisfied that she had done everything she could to make Grace comfortable, Caroline left her lying down on the four-poster bed in her old room. She hesitated on the landing, wondering whether to venture to the kitchen and offer Jenifry some help, or return to the drawing room. Freddie’s casual acknowledgement of his former relationship with his housekeeper had come as a shock, as had his announcement that Dickon was his illegitimate son. Caroline did not consider herself to be a prude, but she realised now that she had led a sheltered existence, and knew little of the world outside the elegant walls of the house in Finsbury Circus. What secrets Grace had yet to divulge were still a mystery, but Caroline had a feeling of foreboding, and she suspected that what had happened in the past had something to do with the rivalry between the Colvilles and the Mannings. She decided to leave the domestic arrangements to Jenifry and hurried back to the drawing room.
Maria looked up from the copy of Punch magazine she was reading and replaced it on the table. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Your mother is resting. We need to give her time to adjust to simply being free from that hateful man. She’s been through a lot, Maria.’
‘I might not know the identity of my father, but at least it wasn’t that person,’ Maria said, shuddering. ‘But what will we do if that horrible man comes looking for her?’
‘Grace is safe here for the time being, but we need to think carefully about what to do next.’
‘I’m afraid she offended your uncle, Caroline. She has quite a temper.’
‘I think he was more amused than angry,’ Caroline said, smiling. ‘Uncle Freddie is a dear, if a little eccentric, but we can’t stay here for ever.’
‘I suppose we must return to London, but I can never go back to my grandmother’s house.’
‘I’ll visit Daumerle tomorrow and see Mama. I hope she’s recovered her spirits by now – she was brought so low after my father’s death. I really thought she might die of a broken heart.’
‘Do you think she will be able to help? After all, you said your family has lost everything. It seems to me that we’re all in a terrible fix.’
Caroline went to the window, gazing out at the sweep of lawn surrounded by tall trees, and a glimpse of the sea, gleaming like a silver ribbon laced between the branches. ‘I will find a way, Maria. I just don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I refuse to be beaten.’
‘If all else fails I’ll ask Phineas for help.’
‘Let’s hope it won’t come to that. He made it perfectly clear what he thought of me and my family. Heaven knows what he would say if he saw your mother now, and I don’t think he’d approve of the goings-on here at Starcross Abbey either.’
A gurgle of laughter escaped from Maria’s lips. ‘I’d love to see Grandmama’s face if confronted by your uncle.’
‘He would probably charm her into sitting for her portrait. Uncle Freddie has had a colourful past, including several years in exile in Italy, as well as gold mining in Australia. We must get him talking about it at dinner – that will cheer everyone up.’
At eight o’clock Caroline took her seat at the dining table next to Maria, but Grace had refused to leave her room. What was even more surprising was the fact that Jenifry and Dickon were apparently going to join them for the meal. Jenifry served the soup and then sat down at the far end of the table with Dickon on her left
.
‘Where is Graziella?’ Freddie demanded, gazing round as if expecting to see her lurking in a corner of the candlelit room.
‘She begs to be excused,’ Caroline said tactfully. ‘She has a headache and is very tired.’
‘Nonsense. I don’t believe that for a moment.’ Freddie leaped to his feet. ‘Don’t start until I return.’
He left the room and everyone sat still and silent, as if in a tableau, until he returned minutes later, carrying Grace over his shoulder. He dumped her unceremoniously in a chair on his right.
‘I told you I don’t want any food,’ Grace said angrily. ‘I won’t be treated like this.’
‘You will sit and eat, if only to please my excellent cook, who will be mortified if this soup goes to waste.’ Freddie shot her a sideways glance. ‘You need meat on your bones, woman.’
Caroline glanced at Jenifry and Dickon, but neither of them seemed to be upset or even surprised by Freddie’s unconventional behaviour.
‘Eat and enjoy,’ Freddie said, picking up his spoon. ‘Tomorrow morning I will make a start on your portrait, Graziella. I’ve already made a preliminary sketch, from memory, of course, but I have a feeling that this will be my masterpiece.’
Grace gave him a stony stare. ‘If you call me Graziella once more I’ll empty the damn tureen over your head. Do you understand me?’
Freddie shrugged and blew her a kiss.
‘I thought I might go to Daumerle tomorrow,’ Caroline said tentatively. ‘I’m quite a good rider, Uncle Freddie, so I wonder if I might borrow one of your horses.’
‘Of course you may. Dickon will accompany you. I can’t allow you to roam the countryside on your own.’
‘I’ll be glad to,’ Dickon said cheerfully. ‘I’ll get all the gossip from the stable lads at Daumerle. Ma enjoys a bit of tittle-tattle from the big house.’
Jenifry shook her head, smiling. ‘Hush now, Dickon. Your pa isn’t interested in such nonsense.’
‘That’s right,’ Freddie said airily. ‘My mind is on higher things.’ He turned to stare at Grace. ‘Have you anything less ragged to wear, my dear? Something a little more revealing, perhaps?’
