When Vance had disappeared through the long French windows Mrs. Ashmore patted the gaily-coloured cushions piled beside her. ‘Do sit down here, my dear, and we’ll have a cosy gossip. I’ve all sorts of questions to ask you.’
‘That means that Mother intends to pump you, Eric said acidly.
‘Now, Eric, you’re in one of your tiresome moods,’ his stepmother smiled tightly. ‘If you can’t be civil you should go about your own affairs and leave us frivolous females to gossip in peace.’
‘And what exactly would my “affairs”, as you call them, be?’ Eric enquired caustically. ‘Since Father misguidedly left the Company to Vance it doesn’t leave me very much to do, does it?’
‘Your father knew best,’ Mrs. Ashmore said in a low angry voice, ‘and I do wish you’d stop airing our dirty linen in front of visitors.’ An angry flush appeared on her cheekbones.
‘Surely you don’t consider Esther a stranger? After all, is she not sister to Vance’s probable future bride? Sooner or later she’s bound to find out that Vance and I hate each other like poison, and on my side at least, with very good reason.’
At this point Vance returned and Eric lapsed into a brooding silence.
Mrs. Ashmore reached towards a small round table on whose marble surface stood a silver cigarette box and lighter. She offered the box to me, and when I refused, lit up and smoked in silence for a moment, her eyes narrowed in thought. ‘How convenient that you were able to take on Rodney at such short notice!’ she began casually. ‘Averil didn’t tell us quite what you did—some sort of social work, I gathered!’
I stared at her in astonishment. How typical of Averil that she should have put me in such a false position. I was aware of Vance standing behind me and I knew he was listening for my answer. As far as Mrs. Ashmore was concerned I felt the question was simply her first salvo. She was determined, I felt sure, to find out if I was as accommodating as Averil and as aspiring to play the sycophant. But then Averil had a very good reason for her deceptive docility. She was determined to win Mrs. Ashmore’s approval and have her as a firm ally in her campaign to secure Vance as her husband. But I had no such intention, I told myself grimly. In fact, the man who was standing behind me, on his granite features a barely concealed air of mockery, was the last man on earth I would consider in such a role. ‘I worked in a stockbroker’ office,’ I said abruptly.
‘An office!’ Mrs. Ashmore repeated. For once her glossy poise seemed to desert her. ‘Somehow I got the impression from Averil that you more or less gave your time to some sort of charitable work!’
I heard Vance give a bark of laughter. ‘Good heavens, Mother, you don’t think the modern girl gives her time to what you call charitable work, like a Victorian miss distributing flannel and port wine!’
Mrs. Ashmore laughed a little artificially. ‘No doubt I misunderstood dear Averil, but I distinctly got the impression—’ she stopped abruptly and seemed to welcome the diversion the elderly uniformed maid caused by appearing on the terrace pushing a tea-trolley.
Her patrician features looked frowningly on as the servant arranged the tea-things on a silver tea-tray on the marble-topped table and I guessed my admission had come as an unpleasant revelation to her. It was easy to see what words had been on the tip of her tongue. She had got the impression; she had been about to say, that Averil had come of a wealthy and leisured family. Now that she knew I was a working girl she would have to reconstruct her attitude towards me.
But with the smoothness that years of practice had perfected, she chatted pleasantly as she poured from the big silver teapot. ‘We were so lucky to get Averil as a tenant for the cottage. I mean, some completely impossible person might have taken it, and after all, Cherry Cottage is so near us and so much a part of the estate that it would have been awkward if someone incompatible had moved in.’
I could guess what she meant by incompatible. By marrying Clive Etherton, Averil had entered a circle acceptable to the socially prominent Mrs. Ashmore. I realised now that her preliminary question was an effort to find out details of our life. Averil, in spite of her vivacious and outspoken manner, was fundamentally too cautious to jeopardize her place in Mrs. Ashmore’s esteem by any embarrassing disclosures.
‘But then Vance knew Averil would make an eminently suitable tenant,’ Eric said. ‘After all, you knew her for a fairly long time, didn’t you, Vance? You appeared such old friends when she came here first. It was obvious that you knew exactly what you were taking on when you gave the cottage to her.’ Like most of his remarks it seemed to hold a suggestion of malice, I could almost feel the tension that Eric’s words had created between the two men.
Vance was standing beside his mother and for a moment I glanced up at him as he took a teacup from his mother and handed it to me. What Eric had said only confirmed what I already suspected concerning the relationship between Vance and Averil. After all, it had appeared so clearly in the photograph that showed them in an unguarded moment.
He caught my glance and held it with a sardonic expression that made me look away in embarrassment. I wondered if those dark penetrating eyes had guessed my thoughts.
‘If you mean I knew Averil was a charming and intelligent girl, you’re perfectly right. Even a misanthrope like yourself must have realised that!’
‘I’m anything but a misanthrope,’ Eric snapped angrily, ‘but I flatter myself I can spot a scheming little gold-digger a mile off even if she does happen to be devastatingly pretty!’
There was an appalled silence, then Eric swung his wheelchair around with a furious gesture and propelled himself along the side of the terrace.
‘You must forgive him, my dear,’ Mrs. Ashmore said hurriedly. ‘My stepson is inclined to show his jealousy too obviously. But then I’m afraid my menfolk are a trifle uncouth.’
It was an attempt to cover over Eric’s outburst, but I knew by the softening of the glance she gave to Vance, the inheritor of the Ashmore fortune and what went with the position, that he held a very different place in her life from the crippled and ineffectual Eric. And at that moment I disliked Vance even more than I had previously.
‘Just to show you how wrong you are to describe me as uncouth, I propose to show Miss Carson over the garden. Isn’t that the correct procedure when a lady calls to tea?’
He was deliberately making fun of me, I realised. It was a suggestion that I was censorious and straight-laced.
“I’ll show her the apple of your eye.’ He turned to me. ‘Mother was on a visit to Italy recently and she returned with a beautiful fountain. I’m sure she’d like to have your opinion on it.’
I was on the point of telling him I’d prefer to stay on the terrace and chat with his mother. It would let him see, I thought with satisfaction, that here at least was one girl who had no intention of jumping at the chance of a tete-a-tete with the wealthy Vance Ashmore.
His mother frowned. ‘But, Vance, it hasn’t been connected yet. Besides, I’ve all sorts of things I want to talk to Esther about.’
I suspected these queries would include a close look at my family background.
‘Nevertheless, Miss Carson must get the opportunity to consider your treasure and admire your taste in sculpture,’ Vance said pleasantly, but there was an inflexibility about his intention that his mother evidently recognized.
She shrugged resignedly. ‘Oh, very well, but you’ll only bore her.’
‘Nonsense, anyone named Esther Carson must take an interest in artistic matters.’ Suddenly and without warning he reached down and, catching my hands, pulled me to my feet and before I could protest, he was marching me down the terrace steps.
‘You make me sound frumpish and blue-stocking-ish,’ I said resentfully.
‘But that’s exactly what I intend to do,’ he admitted cruelly.
I stared at him in amazement. ‘But why?’
‘Because, I was interested to see how you react. You were sitting there carefully hiding your reactions to our displays o
f Ashmore temperament. Very cautious and reserved. I thought it might be interesting to see if I could make the sparks fly.’ So by my outburst I had fallen straight into a trap!
Tight-lipped, I walked by his side until we reached a formal garden enclosed by ilex trees. Severe paved walks bordered a rectangle of mirror-smooth water that caught and reflected in a gleaming pool the statue of translucent green marble. It depicted the crouched figure of a young girl, holding an ornately carved pitcher of the same clear marble and as though on the point of pouring its contents into the pond.
‘It’s not permanently in position, but when it is the water will pour from the pot in a sort of cascade.’
Yes; the sun sparkling on the gushing water and making the marble figure iridescent certainly would be very beautiful, I decided.
‘Well, do you like it?” he asked.
I nodded, then, without thinking, ‘I only wish I could see it when it’s in operation.’
He looked puzzled. ‘But why shouldn’t you?’
‘You forget I’m only here on a temporary basis. When Averil returns I’ll have to go back.’
‘To the job in the stockbrokers’ office that you speak of with such enthusiasm?’
Had I been so obvious, then, that he had guessed how glad I had been to leave Wentworth and Judd? But I didn’t trust him enough to make an admission. ‘Well,’ I replied cautiously, ‘if I must work, I suppose Wentworth and Judd are as good as any.’ But even the very mention of the name made my heart sink.
I had a quick vision of Miss Palmer’s face pinched with anxiety at some minor office crisis. The atmosphere in the old-fashioned room on a wet afternoon. The smell of damp coats and the whole grinding monotony of my life. It was a far cry from this beautiful garden with its classic beauty and the tall chimneys of Ashmore House against the soft blue sky. However, I had no intention of letting Vance see how I loathed the idea of leaving Cherry Cottage. And with a dry smile he listened to me make small talk about the beauty of the grounds.
It was as we were returning to the terrace that he said abruptly, ‘By the way, if it’s convenient, I’ll call on you one of these days to discuss details of the annex I’ve promised Averil to build on to the cottage.’
‘An annex on to the cottage!’ I repeated. ‘But Averil didn’t mention it to me!’
‘No doubt her mind was already on the cruise,’ he remarked dryly.
Somehow the idea of the perfection of Cherry Cottage being marred by an annex dismayed me. But of course I was in no position to object.
‘You don’t approve of the idea, then, Miss Carson?’
‘I didn’t say that I disapproved,’ I said hastily.
‘Perhaps not, but you certainly gave that impression.’
‘I can’t imagine what difference my attitude makes,’ I said stiffly. ‘After all, it’s your property to do as you like with.’
‘My dear good girl, I’ve no wish to destroy the Cottage. However, Averil is keen on one of those large rooms with picture windows and lots of light, modern furniture. She finds it too pokey when it comes to entertaining her friends.’
‘But it will completely spoil the cottage,’ I exclaimed. It was typical of Averil that she was prepared to destroy serenity by the addition of a hideous gleaming glass structure. Suddenly I felt faintly protective towards the little jewel of a cottage, with its warm nut-coloured woodwork, its dreamy old-world charm and its high stepped roof. ‘Oh, but you mustn’t do it!’ I exclaimed impulsively.
He looked amused. ‘I’m afraid it’s already been arranged.’
‘But it’s not,’ I said heatedly. ‘After all, the final decision rests with you. And if you put your foot down she can do nothing about it.’
‘You sound very vehement. I didn’t realize that the cottage had such a loyal champion.’
‘You know how it is,’ I said lamely. ‘One suddenly falls in love with a house—’
‘No, I do not, Miss Carson. I’m a business man. And I am not the least emotional about quaint old cottages. Averil needs more room. We shall take in part of the orchard and that’s all there is to it. As I mentioned, I shall call down one of these days with the architect.’
He was summarily dismissing both me and the subject: my insistence had begun to irritate him. Besides, to a man in love, Averil’s wishes would naturally come first. My opinions were of no interest to him: I was being brushed aside as he might any other troublesome and importunate stranger, and I was rather relieved to have Mrs. Ashmore claim my attention as we reached the terrace once more.
‘I must show you the frock Averil was to wear at a pageant of famous women we’re holding in aid of the Ashmore Youth Centre,’ Mrs. Ashmore said animatedly as she led me into the house and we began to ascend the wide oak stairway. ‘I was so disappointed when Averil decided to go on the cruise, for it means of course that she’ll miss wearing the wonderful gown Monsieur Lacroix designed especially for her.’
As she spoke she ushered me into a large room lined with cupboards and sliding back the doors displayed rows of elegant gowns complete with wigs and accessories. She fingered a stiff brocade, heavily encrusted with seed pearls and crystals. ‘This is for the girl who is to model Elizabeth the First. You’ve heard of Andre Lacroix, I’m sure?’ she added casually.
I smiled. ‘I think most people have. Isn’t he considered one of the leading designers for the stage?’ It would have been hard not to have heard of him, for his eccentricities had kept him well in the forefront of the news!
‘The man is a perfect genius,’ Mrs. Ashmore said effusively. ‘As soon as he set eyes on Averil, he immediately suggested she model his Josephine gown.’ She took down a gown of diaphanous ice-blue chiffon over an underdress of a deeper blue silk, satin-bordered: the high-waisted bodice and tiny puffed sleeves of the period were outlined by braid encrusted by silver and gold beadwork. ‘Such a pity she won’t be able to wear it! However, I suppose I’ll simply have to get someone else.’
She laughed deprecatingly as she slid the cupboard doors closed. ‘Not of course that there is any dearth of candidates! There was great competition amongst our Warefield girls when the idea was mooted. The occasion will of course be one of our social highlights,’ she said complacently. ‘And Ashmore House will make an excellent background. I may say I have made a few changes for the better since I came here as a young bride. It was so terribly dismal then and my husband simply wouldn’t agree that we get rid of the furniture. However, I insisted that everything be re-upholstered. You have no idea how ghastly things looked then; pea-green velvet and hideous long maroon velvet curtains.’
As we went downstairs again and entered the drawing-room I could see that she was making polite small talk: her mind was obviously on something else. She stood in front of the chimneypiece, her thin figure outlined by the white marble, twisting the gold and jade bracelet restlessly on her wrist. ‘And now, my dear,’ she began with an air of casualness that was belied by the wariness about her eyes, ‘I do hope that you did not let Eric upset you. He can be extremely trying and say the wildest things when he is in one of his moods. He has been most indiscreet and spread the most outrageous stories concerning Vance. Poor Eric, I’m terribly fond of him, of course, but when the accident put an end to his prospects of inheriting, he became dreadfully bitter and unjust towards Vance. It’s all so unfair, too, for his father left him well provided for, but the responsibility of running our affairs rests with Vance. Of course, it was a dreadful tragedy for poor Eric, especially when he was so confident of stepping into his father’s shoes, but then life doesn’t always turn out as one expects, does it?’ In spite of her efforts to appear sympathetic to Eric’s tragedy she could not help the note of satisfaction that crept into her voice.
‘It was a shooting accident, wasn’t it?’ I ventured.
She nodded and her lips tightened warily. ‘We won’t go into it,’ she said shortly. ‘It happened some time ago and it’s all too painful. Vance and Eric had gone out together an
d Eric stumbled while going through a gap and somehow or other the gun went off. I can assure you it was an accident. But people talk. In a small town like this I suppose it was inevitable. They resented Vance, and Eric, of course, kept the whole wretched business on the boil by his horrible insinuations.’
She paused for a moment and I wondered what exactly Mrs. Ashmore was so carefully leading up to.
‘What I mean, dear, is that I feel sure that should you hear gossip of that kind you will firmly discourage it. After all, in loyalty to Averil it should be your duty to do that. I suppose you know that your sister and my son will probably marry fairly soon. Of course Vance has always been fairly reticent about his affairs, however, it’s easy to see that they’re very much in love. And I must admit that there is no one I’d like better than dear Averil as a daughter-in-law. However, there is a little matter that I think we should settle up. I feel sure you will agree it would be much more suitable if your sister was not married from your family home. I feel sure that if you spoke to your mother she would understand our point of view. I mean, under the circumstances it would be quite a big wedding.’ She laughed disarmingly. ‘What we call in these parts an important social event. From what I’ve gathered I really do feel that your background might not be quite suitable for such an occasion. Don’t misunderstand me, my dear,’ she added quickly. ‘I mean nothing offensive, of course, but one must be sensible about such matters. We have so many friends, Ashmore would be a much more suitable venue—’ she tapered off as though reluctant to be more explicit. But at the same time there was no mistaking her meaning. Our background, she had concluded, would not be sufficiently splendid to entertain the Ashmores and their friends.
‘I feel sure you will agree it would be by far the best plan,’ she ended decisively.
It was obvious that she expected no opposition from me, and her face stiffened in shocked surprise when I said, ‘I’m afraid I don’t agree with you, Mrs. Ashmore, but of course Averil is entitled to make whatever arrangements she wants to. But personally I feel that a bride should be married from her own home even if it isn’t particularly opulent.’
Sister of the Bride Page 7
