‘Please yourself,’ Charles snapped nastily. ‘I’m going. Anything for a bit of fun.’
‘You might even meet another heiress,’ she taunted, slamming out of the dining room.
The thought of that little packed suitcase was never far from Rosie’s mind. But how could she possibly walk away from her marriage after only five months? And pregnant at that? What a fool she’d look, apart from anything else. And how humiliating; everyone would guess Charles had married her for her money.
But was she going to ruin the rest of her life, married to someone who made her deeply unhappy?
A week ago something had happened that had rocked the establishment, shaken Britain to its roots, and sent a message around the world that personal happiness comes before responsibility, and romantic love is all.
King Edward VIII, as yet uncrowned, and determined to marry Mrs Simpson, had been forced to abdicate because of the government’s objections to a twice-divorced woman taking her place beside him as his Queen. So he’d given up his throne, his family, his country, and his duty, for ‘the woman he loved’, as he described her.
Unlike the rest of her family, Rosie was inspired, and felt deep sympathy for the King, as she’d listened to his speech on the wireless. Edward VIII hated his life, and wasn’t afraid to run away from all his obligations. If a King could do it – why couldn’t she? Who would really care if she did? Only Charles, her family, and a bunch of shallow socialites. She’d actually started composing a letter to Charles when Liza phoned. Rosie could tell her mother was crying.
‘Isn’t this a terrible calamity? Did you hear his farewell speech?’ Liza wept.
‘He didn’t want to be King, Mummy. He’s in love with Mrs Simpson.’
‘Love?’ Liza stopped crying, she was so horrified. ‘What’s love got to do with it? It was his duty to stay. Rosie, don’t be so naive, darling. That woman is a dominatrix, and their’s is a sadomasochistic relationship. No good can come of it.’
But Rosie wasn’t listening. The way her mother put it did make the new King’s action seem very selfish; but does anyone deserve to be unhappy? Even if it is in the line of duty?
Later though, Rosie started reading about the new King and his sweet Scottish wife, and how they were going to have to leave their own lovely home and move into Buckingham Palace for a life devoted to the country.
Gradually Rosie began to see that there was something very noble in doing one’s duty. She felt inspired. As much as it was their duty to take their places on the throne, so was it her duty to stand by Charles, and bring up their child.
Like the new King and Queen, she must somehow make the best of it, she told herself.
Juliet arrived at Claridge’s with her parents for the Duke of Kincardine’s cocktail party. The lobby leading to the ballroom, where it was being held, was already filled with people, milling around and talking to each other, whilst a long line of guests waited to be received.
‘Everyone’s here,’ Liza murmured, adjusting the folds of her sable-edged wrap.
Henry nodded. He’d already seen several members of parliament and the lords that he knew, and some of his old cronies from White’s.
At that moment, Colin Armstrong came rushing up to Juliet.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked laughingly. She leaned forward, her cheek pressed to his while she whispered, ‘Have you gatecrashed?’
He shook his head. ‘Have you …? Oh, I suppose not, if you’re with your parents. Who is this duke? I’ve no idea why I was invited.’
‘I’ve no idea why any of us were invited,’ she replied, succinctly. ‘It looks as if he’s invited a very motley crowd, of all ages.’
They joined Henry and Liza in the line to be received.
Colin continued, ‘Maybe he wants to launch himself as a politician?’
‘But what good would people like us be to him?’
‘I haven’t the faintest. Let’s just enjoy the champagne; what are you doing afterwards?’
‘Nothing, actually.’
‘Fancy supper at the Berkeley?’
‘Divine idea! Yes, please.’
The master of ceremonies was announcing the names in a loud voice. ‘Lord and Lady Lonsdale. Sir Geoffrey and Lady Armstrong. Mr and Mrs William Wakeley. Lord Doughty. Lord and Lady Eastham …’
In a moment her parents would be announced. Suddenly Juliet’s heart gave a great lurch as she saw the back view of their host, as he turned to have another word with the Easthams. It was Daniel …! She’d recognize that thick dark hair anywhere, those broad shoulders … but something was wrong. Daniel was taller than this man, with longer legs. Her spirits swooped down in disappointment as she realized she’d been mistaken.
‘Mr and Mrs Henry Granville, and Miss Juliet Granville,’ boomed a sonorous voice.
The man she’d thought was Daniel was greeting her parents with delight, almost as if they’d been old friends. Then he turned to her, his brown eyes sharp and drilling, the only features in an otherwise bland face.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ he said, his voice filled with sincerity; not the wonderfully deep voice of Daniel, she thought, but pleasant enough. She liked his firm handshake. His appearance was immaculate.
‘Thank you for inviting me.’ She smiled, looking up into his face. ‘We haven’t met before, have we?’ she asked bluntly.
Cameron Kincardine smiled back, showing even white teeth. ‘No, we haven’t, but I’ve heard a lot about you; all nice things, I have to say.’
‘Well, that’s lucky, isn’t it?’ she joked.
A waiter holding a tray offered her a glass of champagne. She moved forward to join the melee, as more guests were announced.
‘May I introduce myself?’ A small white-haired man had popped up by her elbow. ‘My name’s Hector Mackenzie. I’m a neighbour of the duke’s, and an old friend. It’s very nice to meet you.’
Juliet sipped her drink. Her parents had been swallowed up by the crowds, and Colin had also vanished.
‘It’s nice to meet you, too.’ She moved closer to Hector Mackenzie. ‘Can you tell me something?’ Her voice was low and confidential. ‘Is this a special occasion? Is it the duke’s birthday or something?’
Hector’s bird-like head tilted to one side. He rose on his toes, as if to take flight. ‘Cameron is thinking of spending more time in London. He’s been so busy looking after his estate since his father died that he feels he’s rather neglected his social life. This party is to … well, help him get back into circulation,’ he added with a chuckle.
‘I don’t think he’ll have a problem,’ Juliet remarked drily, eyeing the large dishes of Beluga caviar, resting on crushed ice, being offered to guests.
‘The duke is probably going to buy a house in Park Lane. There are still a few nice ones left which haven’t been pulled down to make way for new hotels like the Dorchester,’ Hector Mackenzie continued, in a chatty voice.
‘We live just off Park Lane, in Green Street.’
‘Is that so?’ The tone was surprised, the Scottish accent soft, as if he didn’t know; but hadn’t it been he who’d drawn up the invitation list, after doing some assiduous research? ‘A very nice part of London,’ he added.
He continued to keep Juliet in conversation, and bored. She looked around, and saw several of her friends bunched together in a corner, as if they were having a private party of their own.
Just as she was about to make her excuses and join them, her mother came up to her. ‘Ah, there you are, Juliet!’ She looked questioningly at the Scottish lawyer.
‘Mummy,’ she said, seeing a way of escape, ‘You must meet this delightful gentleman. This is Mr Mackenzie.’ She turned to Hector. ‘And this is my mother, Mrs Granville.’
They shook hands and started talking, and Juliet slipped away, bumping into Edward Courtney, who was tucking into foie gras canapes.
‘This is the strangest party I’ve ever been to,’ she whispered.
He grinned. ‘
It’s the first time I’ve ever been to a party where no one knows the host,’ he chortled. ‘And no one knows why they’ve been invited. Do you know why you’re here?’
‘No idea at all,’ Juliet replied. ‘At least we all seem to know each other, and the champagne is flowing, so who the hell cares?’ She helped herself to another glass from a passing waiter.
‘Have you noticed there aren’t many girls, though?’ he sounded disconsolate.
‘That’s true,’ she agreed, looking around, suddenly consumed with a longing for Daniel to be here. Shocked to realize he still had the power to arouse her, even though she hadn’t seen him in weeks. A wave of sick desire shot through her at the memory of his love-making. ‘I think I’m going to leave,’ she murmured, Suddenly feeling miserable.
‘But you’ve only just arrived! Colin told me you’re having supper with him afterwards.’
Her brow wrinkled. ‘I’ve got a headache coming on.’
Edward looked at her strangely. ‘I thought you’d be setting your cap at this duke none of us have ever heard of,’ he whispered, drawing her behind one of the square pillars that stood in the four corners of the ballroom. ‘He’s single, you know. And fearfully rich. He’d be perfect for you, Juliet.’
She leaned against the pillar, and looked up at one of the art deco chandeliers. There was a long pause before she spoke.
‘I’m in love with someone else,’ she said slowly, as if the thought had just occurred to her.
Edward’s eyes widened. ‘Not that married chap you went to Paris with?’
‘Oh, God, does everyone know about that?’ she groaned.
‘Gossip travels, sweetie. You’re a star turn on the social scene, you know. Everyone wants to know what you’re up to.’
‘Have you got a gasper?’ As she spoke, she reached for the long jade holder in her handbag. Edward snapped open his cigarette case and held it out to her.
‘Thanks. If only he hadn’t been married. I was so angry with him when I found out, but …’
‘He was good under the covers, was he?’ Edward gave her a knowing wink as he struck a match.
Juliet looked at him, brazening it out. ‘Don’t be so vulgar, Edward,’ she chided, crossly.
‘But you regret chucking him now?’
She shrugged, appalled at this sudden rush of emotion that was edging towards tears.
‘It might make you feel better to know he’d never have married you even if he’d been single,’ Edward suggested.
She straightened up, eyes flashing, their pale blueness cold as ice. ‘Why do you say that?’ she asked sharply.
Seeing her hurt, Edward immediately said, ‘Oh, darling, not because he wouldn’t think you were marvellous. Not because he wouldn’t be attracted to you; but because he’s a Jew. They can never marry Gentiles. You know that, don’t you?’
Juliet shook her head, astonished. ‘I never thought about that. I just know he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met. You’ve no idea … and he had so much soul. So much feeling, and yet a wonderful vibrancy and zest for life.’
‘You sound like my eldest sister.’ Edward looked rueful. ‘The love of her life was a Jewish man. She told me all her girlfriends found Jewish men more attractive.’ He shrugged. ‘She’s thirty-five now, and I don’t think she’ll ever marry.’
‘That’s terrible.’ The colour had drained from Juliet’s face now and she looked drawn.
‘Sorry, sweetheart. But isn’t it better to know that, apart from being married, Daniel’s unattainable? And through no fault of yours?’
Juliet drew a last drag on her cigarette, before stubbing it out. ‘I’m off, Edward. God knows where Colin is, but could you give him a message, please? Tell him I’ve gone home because I’m feeling rotten.’
Edward kissed her gently on the cheek. ‘Yes, I’ll tell him. And try to forget all about Daniel Lawrence. You could have anyone you wanted, you know.’
‘Thanks.’ She nodded, her eyes cast down and her mouth tight. Anyone; except the one man she loved.
At that moment her mother came trotting up to her, eyes blazing with excitement. ‘The duke has invited us to stay on for dinner,’ she whispered, as Edward slipped away. ‘You, me and Daddy.’ Her manner was conspiratorial. ‘Don’t tell anyone; I don’t believe he’s invited many other people.’
‘I’m on my way home, Mummy,’ Juliet protested, wearily. ‘I’ve got a headache.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Juliet.’ Liza spoke sharply. ‘You must stay.’ The unspoken implication hung over them, like a tantalizing prize.
‘All right,’ she said reluctantly. If she couldn’t have what she really wanted, and at that moment wanted desperately, then she might as well go back to her original plan of making a brilliant marriage.
They dined in the high-ceilinged restaurant of Claridge’s. Cameron had invited two other couples, but Liza was very gratified by the seating plan. He’d placed her on his right side, and Juliet on his left. Henry had been seated beside Cameron Kincardine’s mother, the dowager duchess, a strange-looking woman with a mass of black hair, a white face, and the dark, darting eyes of a knowing child. Dressed in a long white floaty dress, like an elderly Ophelia, there was a doomed whimsicality about her that jarred with the modern world. And yet, beneath this ingenious manner, Henry detected a steely core.
Cameron engaged Liza in affable conversation during the first course, as etiquette required, and then turned to talk to Juliet during the main course.
‘So tell me about yourself,’ he asked, his manner easy and relaxed. ‘Do you spend all your time in London? Or are you mostly in the country?’
‘Weekends and the summer in the country, but I need London, during the week, like an anaemic person needs a blood transfusion,’ she replied crisply, determined to lay her cards on the table from the start.
Cameron laughed as if she’d said something amusing. ‘And what do you do when you’re in town?’
She raised her plucked eyebrows provocatively. Her eyes smouldered. She felt so unhappy she didn’t care if she appeared fast and reckless. ‘That depends. What do you do?’
‘That’s the problem,’ he confided, as if he wasn’t aware of her flirting. ‘It’s so long since I’ve been down here, I’m out of touch. That’s why I’m looking for a house to buy.’
‘Near where I live, I believe?’ Her body was turned towards him, her elbow resting on the arm of her chair, her hand cupping her chin in a kittenish fashion. Her dress revealed a perfect cleavage, her crossed thighs looked slim beneath her dress. Leaning forward, her face was close to his as she gazed into his eyes.
‘Park Lane,’ he replied. ‘Are you near Park Lane?’ He dabbed his mouth with the damask napkin. ‘That’s where I’m looking.’
‘Very near,’ she breathed in a low voice.
‘Right! Well then, we shall no doubt see a lot of each other,’ he replied, gazing down at his plate.
Juliet smiled her sweetest scarlet smile. ‘Oh, I do hope so.’
Iona Kincardine was watching Juliet closely, through narrowed eyes. ‘What makes you think she’s suitable?’ she mouthed to Hector, who was sitting on her left.
‘She’s sophisticated,’ he replied, sotto voce. ‘Worldly. We don’t want some romantic little fool. That girl has her head screwed on, and I’d say her head rules her heart.’
Iona nodded, in silent approval.
‘It’s my belief,’ Hector continued in a whisper, ‘she also knows which side her bread is buttered. Look how thrilled her mother is that Cameron is paying her attention. She’ll encourage this match, I’m certain.’
‘Her mother looks a fool to me.’
‘So much the better, don’t you think?’ He gave a sly smile.
‘What do you make of the father?’
‘A nice man. Straight as a die. Very honorable. The less he knows the better, though.’
‘Deal with the mother then, Hector. I think she rules the roost in that family. Funny how stupid women can have
such a hold over intelligent men.’ Iona Kincardine gave a puckish smile.
‘Yes.’ But Hector wasn’t looking at Liza, he was studying Juliet, as she directed her charms towards Cameron. There was nothing stupid about Juliet, though, he reflected. She knew exactly what she was doing.
As the dinner party broke up shortly before midnight, Iona Kincardine went to say goodbye to Juliet, her arms outstretched as if to embrace her.
‘It’s been lovely to meet you,’ she gushed, sounding like a young girl who had just made a new chum. ‘You will come and stay with us, won’t you? Do you fish? Never mind,’ she continued swiftly, seeing Juliet’s look of surprise, ‘there are lots of other things to do.’
‘Thank you,’ Juliet replied with a radiant smile. She’d drunk far too much, and at that moment she was prepared to go anywhere, meet anyone, do anything, as long as this warm floaty feeling continued.
Iona was holding both her hands now, in a firm grip. Much shorter than Juliet, she gazed up into her face. ‘You are so beautiful, my dear, but I expect everyone tells you that. And such a lovely dress.’ She held Juliet’s hands out to the sides, to see more clearly what she was wearing. ‘Exquisite, my dear,’ she said with satisfaction, as if she was studying a great work of art.
‘What a success!’ Liza chirruped, as they were leaving Claridge’s. She was a bit tipsy too, but her elation came mostly from the heady realization that Cameron was seriously interested in Juliet.
‘He seems a nice enough man,’ Henry remarked cautiously, helping Liza into their waiting car. ‘Odd mother, though,’ he added.
Juliet, sitting in the back, said nothing. She was tired and sleepy, filled with alcohol and wanting only Daniel. Tomorrow, she would wake up sober, knowing she had to try and get through another day without him, and wondering if she’d be able to.
‘He’s perfect, Juliet. In every way,’ her mother murmured.
‘Ummmm …’
‘There is something I can’t make out about him, though,’ Henry observed.
‘I think he’s shy,’ Liza pointed out in a hushed voice, as if it were a sad disability.
The Granville Sisters Page 15
