‘Really, Lavinia, you do talk a lot of old rot,’ retorted Rose, relieved that Lavinia seemed to be her old self again. ‘I happen to think they’re very fond of each other, and just because you’re obsessed by clothes and your appearance doesn’t mean every woman has to be.’
‘Good old Rose,’ said Lavinia smiling. ‘Putting me in my place. I’ve missed you, you know, I really have. We had some fun times together in that dress shop, didn’t we? I would never have been able to have stuck it out for as long as I did if you hadn’t been there. Are those two awful girls still there? Now, what were their names … let me think … Oh yes, Sylvia and Mary, such horrid girls. Anyway, enough of reminiscing, I’m rather more interested in hearing about what you’ve been up to lately. I read about all that dreadful business at Dareswick Hall. It had me enthralled, of course, but the poor Athertons. I say, Rose, murder and death and all that do seem to follow you around, don’t they?’
‘Or Cedric,’ put in Rose. ‘He was there too, you know.’
‘I do. You’ve been seeing rather a lot of my brother recently, haven’t you?’ Lavinia said suddenly, catching Rose off guard. ‘Awfully good of you to be there for him when I wasn’t, but really I’m back now.’
Rose felt herself blush, but Lavinia was still smiling sweetly, as she adjusted her hair.
‘Do you wish me to leave, Lavinia?’ Rose said somewhat coldly, feeling nevertheless obliged to offer to go given the circumstances, even though it was the last thing in the world she wanted to do. To leave Cedric now, when she had only just arrived at Sedgwick, it was almost more than she could bear … She took a deep breath and tried to ensure that her voice remained steady. ‘Really, I would understand it if you did, Lavinia. I can quite see how you might just want to have a quiet Christmas this year here with your brother.’
‘And leave me with Vera and her beau?’ Lavinia gave a look of disdain.
‘I’m sure they’d leave too. They wouldn’t think you rude if you were to ask them to. Why, I think Vera’s likely to suggest it given everything.’
‘Yes, I suppose she might. It would be just like her. She’d consider it the right thing to do and then no doubt complain about me to Theo all the way home. But no, I don’t want any of you to go. Really, there’s no need. I was dreading this first Christmas, you know, Cedric and me alone in this vast place, rattling around. So I did something about it. I’ve invited some friends I made on the Continent to come and stay. Actually they should all be arriving tomorrow.’ Lavinia turned in her seat so she could face Rose. ‘So you see, we’ll be quite a house-party. It will be great fun, see if it isn’t.’ She smiled sweetly.
Somewhat apprehensively Rose returned her smile. While her heart leapt at the prospect of not having to leave Cedric, she could not rid herself of a somewhat irrational feeling that the next few days were likely to be anything but fun. She acknowledged also that the sense of foreboding that she had experienced earlier had returned, only now it was more intense.
Chapter Three
On leaving Lavinia to finish her ablutions, Rose came across Vera Brewster in the hall. She happened to look over the great oak banister and glimpse her from the staircase before she herself was observed by Vera. To her surprise the young woman was pacing the black and white tessellated floor below in a seemingly agitated manner, which immediately awakened Rose’s curiosity. From what little she had seen of Vera, Rose had taken her to be a calm and collected sort of person. Her interest was further piqued as it became clear that Vera had been waiting for her. The woman’s face adopted an eager but anxious expression as soon as she spotted Rose, and she stopped her pacing abruptly, as if she had been caught doing something of which she was ashamed.
‘Oh, there you are, Rose,’ the woman began, wringing her hands. ‘Tell me. Is it true? Has Lavinia really returned?’
Rose nodded. The woman’s manner was definitely restive and now that she was standing up close to her Rose thought her forehead looked moist and clammy. As if suddenly aware of her appearance, Vera put a handkerchief to her brow, but if anything it seemed to make matters worse. Yes, she was definitely on edge which seemed, from Rose’s limited knowledge of her, out of character. Try as she might, she found it difficult not to think of Lavinia’s less than flattering description of the girl, which was still ringing in her ears.
‘Of course I always supposed she must one day, it’s just that …’
‘Yes?’ Rose said encouragingly, intrigued by the woman’s manner. Cedric had indicated that Vera Brewster was a longstanding friend of both himself and his sister. And yet Lavinia had spoken disparagingly of her and Vera in turn seemed on edge about Lavinia’s return.
‘It’s just that I happened to pass the housekeeper just now,’ Vera was saying. ‘She was muttering angrily to herself under her breath. From what little I could make out it was something about more guests and heiresses at that. I just wondered what it all meant, that’s all. Did Lavinia say anything to you about it?’
‘No,’ Rose said carefully, watching the woman’s expression closely, ‘not exactly. She did mention she’d invited some acquaintances to stay, some new friends she’d made on the Continent, but she didn’t say who they were. I suppose one or two of them might be wealthy. After all, only the rich seem to be in a positon to travel for pleasure these days. But all she actually said was that it was going to be something of a house-party.’
‘Oh, so I didn’t mishear. I hoped I had.’ Vera’s voice had fallen to little more than a whisper and the colour had quite drained from her face.
To Rose’s eye Vera looked distraught, as if her greatest fears had just been realised, which seemed ridiculous in the extreme. All her reactions appeared to Rose wholly disproportionate and she could not help feeling some resentment towards her. Sedgwick was Lavinia’s home after all. Why shouldn’t she invite guests to stay if she wished? Why should Vera be so crestfallen? To make matters worse, she could not help but notice that the hem of Vera’s skirt was indeed coming down in one place, and the jumper she was wearing was both shapeless and a particularly unpleasing shade of brown. She fought the urge to try and persuade her to change her jumper for a fitted blouse, and to offer to mend her skirt before Lavinia caught sight of her.
‘Oh, it’s nothing, really it isn’t.’ Vera spoke hurriedly, as if she had become aware that Rose might think she was behaving rather oddly. ‘It’s just that I was so hoping that it would be a small house-party, well hardly a house-party at all given that it was just to be the four of us. I’m not very good at dealing with lots of people. I never know what to say. I’m always putting my foot in it or else I get nervous and say the most boring, inane things, one wouldn’t believe.’
Rose nodded sympathetically although she was not convinced by Vera’s explanation for her agitated manner. It seemed to her that a woman in Vera’s position, heavily involved in arranging church events and good causes as she was, would be well versed in dealing with large gatherings to say nothing of handling the members of the nobility who were persuaded to open her father’s church fetes and bazaars.
‘Oh, I know I’m not explaining myself very well. And you probably think I am being very unreasonable. Why shouldn’t Lavinia come home and bring any number of friends with her? It’s just …’ Vera faltered and looked away into the distance apparently lost in her own thoughts.
Rose was just wondering whether Vera had forgotten she was there when the woman turned to her, her face now flushed.
‘Tell me, Rose, have you ever been in love, really in love, I mean? So much so that you feel you would die if it wasn’t returned?’
Rose, taken aback, was for a moment lost for words. Whatever she had expected Vera to say, it was not this. Perhaps it had been a rhetorical question, for Vera did not wait for an answer, did not seem to expect one even, but ploughed on.
‘I was wondering whether you and Cedric felt that way about each other. Oh, I know it’s none of my business, but it’s always so hard to analyse other people’s r
elationships, isn’t it?’
‘I suppose it is.’
‘From a distance the people concerned might appear quite contented, but scratch the surface and one might find all sorts of things wrong. I’m so afraid that we might be like that, Theo and me, I mean. I know that if one were to scratch away at our surface, I’d be perfectly happy underneath, just as happy as I am above. But it’s Theo I’m concerned about. I’m so desperately afraid that he might be unhappy with his lot. With his current life as much as with me. We’re not enough for him you see, even if he’s not aware of it yet.’ Vera smiled sadly. ‘It would be just like him not to know. He’s so wrapped up in his work, you see, that he might not feel anything yet, not see the wood for the trees.’
Rose certainly did not see. What was more, she was startled that Vera should see fit to confide in her, a relative stranger. Should she apologise to Vera and say that she didn’t quite understand what she was saying? But she would feel uncomfortable doing so, afraid that to be voicing such a sentiment would awaken Vera to the fact that she had made Rose privy to her most intimate thoughts. Sooner or later she felt sure Vera would come to her senses and bitterly regret confiding her inner most fears. But what to do now? Rose looked around the vast hall helplessly, seeking a chance of escape or a diversion of some sort. But the hall was strangely empty of everyone, even the servants, and her mind had gone unhelpfully blank of ideas.
‘Don’t you think I’m right?’ continued Vera, apparently oblivious to Rose’s discomfort. ‘I suppose I’m rambling on a bit, but I thought it all made perfect sense, at least to me it does. But, no, I suppose for you it’s different. And I don’t suppose for a moment that it would matter so very much to Theo and me if it wasn’t for her.’
‘Whom?’ Rose could not help herself from asking, despite her good intentions not to become involved in what appeared to her essentially a private matter.
‘Why, the heiress, of course,’ answered Vera, as if that explained everything.
‘Oh, there you are, Cedric,’ Rose said, coming across him at last in the formal gardens giving some instruction or other to the head-gardener. ‘I wondered where you were.’
‘Torridge wanted to talk to me about the arrangements for Lavinia’s guests, you know, whether they were bringing their own maids and manservants and that sort of thing. Couldn’t help him one jot, of course. Mrs Farrier really needs to talk to Lavinia about it, but my sister was far too busy talking to you. I say, how is she?’’
‘She seems quite well. Almost back to her old self, I’d say.’
‘I’m awfully glad she’s returned and all that,’ said Cedric, ‘but it’s a pity she saw the need to bring a lot of friends with her. She’s only just made their acquaintance, hasn’t she? I hope they won’t be too frightful.’
‘I was one of her friends, in case you’d forgotten,’ teased Rose. ‘If she hadn’t seen fit to bring me on a visit to your aunt’s, we’d never have met.’
‘True. And she’s almost her old self, you say?’
‘She appears to be on good form. Prepared to let bygones be bygones, I think, but she doesn’t want to talk about what happened at Ashgrove. So I wouldn’t mention it if I were you, not yet. I’m sure in time she’ll want to talk to you about it all, but for the moment she’d rather not go over it. I don’t believe she thinks it would do any good.’
‘Righto. It’s just good to have her back.’
‘I also wouldn’t mention what happened at Dareswick. She’s read about it, of course. She seems to be under the impression that I attract murder wherever I go. ’
‘What absolute rot,’ said Cedric, tucking her arm through his, as they set off idly back towards the house. ‘She could just as easily say that about me. But I’m awfully glad to hear that she’s all right. I was afraid that she might never come back, you know, make her home on the Continent or in America. I was afraid that Sedgwick might hold too many sad memories for her.’
‘I think it has something to do with the time of year,’ Rose said, ‘you know, with Christmas approaching. It made her think of family and so, of course, you.’
‘Well, whatever Lavinia’s reasons for coming back, I’m just jolly pleased she’s here. And if she doesn’t want to talk about what happened at Ashgrove, well, that’s fine by me. Let’s concentrate on the here and now, shall we? Did she happen to mention who her new friends were whom she’d invited to come and stay? Torridge mumbled something about her mentioning to him a foreign count of some sort.’
‘Vera said that the housekeeper was grumbling about an heiress. I say, Cedric,’ Rose stopped walking and clutched at his arm, ‘Vera was behaving very oddly just now. She seemed jolly put out that Lavinia had returned and that she had invited some guests to stay.’
‘Vera has always been rather jealous of Lavinia and very possessive of that doctor of hers. For all I know she might have good reason, but I don’t know how Theo puts up with it sometimes. Usually she’s fine but – ’
‘She kept going on about unrequited love and how she loves Theo more than he does her.’
‘Did she? Oh dear, that must mean that she’s … I thought she’d stopped all that.’
‘All what?’ But before Cedric had a chance to answer, Lavinia was upon them, her hair expertly arranged, her face exquisitely powdered.
‘Oh do come inside, you two. It’s cold as anything out here. And I want you to see my new dress, Rose. It’s from one of those famous houses in Paris. I forget which one, because I visited quite a few while I was there and bought ever so many gowns. I want you to see the one I’m going to wear to dinner tonight.’
‘I’d like to see it,’ said Rose.
‘It was frightfully expensive,’ continued Lavinia, ‘but absolutely divine. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Ceddie. You don’t understand how important fine gowns are to a girl like me. You might like going around in faded tweeds or plus fours or whatnot, and I daresay it’s very different for a man, but I’d simply die if I had to go around in the sort of get-up Vera wears. How she expects to keep a man like Theo interested in her, I can’t imagine ...’
Too late Rose and Cedric became aware of Vera Brewster emerging from behind a rosebush a few feet from Lavinia. There must have been something in the expression on their faces, for it caused Lavinia to stop her incessant chattering mid-sentence. She looked behind her, turning around as she did so. At once she spotted Vera and moved a step or two backwards towards her brother as if seeking out his protection. There was a silence relieved only by the faint sound of digging, by one of the under-gardeners, in a far distant part of the gardens. The three stood there staring, wondering how much of Lavinia’s speech Vera had actually heard. It was possible, Rose thought, that she might have caught none of it, or just the odd word, although the look of mortification on Vera’s face indicated that if nothing else she had caught the general gist of what Lavinia had been saying.
But before Lavinia could even attempt an apology of sorts, Vera had turned on her heel and was half running, half stumbling, back to the house. There was nothing any one of them could do but look on in horrified silence at the retreating figure, with its shapeless jumper and sagging skirt, moving further and further away from them as if in flight.
Chapter Four
It seemed to Rose that the additional guests arrived in dribs and drabs. First to arrive had been the heiress, Emmeline Montacute, with her companion, Jemima Wentmore. The former had been exquisitely turned out: her clothes good, make-up skilfully applied and hair well-dressed, the overall effect being one of a young woman of beauty, although how much of this was due to the girl’s own natural prettiness and how much to art and fine clothes was hard to tell. What could not be concealed however, was her enthusiasm. Her face beneath its carefully applied powder and rouge was animated, and excitement flowed from her, seeming to light up and warm the winter’s day. And there was something delightfully infectious about her mood. Even Rose felt the apprehension she had initially felt at the prospect of th
e arrival of such illustrious guests begin to lessen and ebb away.
In comparison Jemima Wentmore appeared a much more insignificant character, a shadow even, the portrait of a woman sketched in grey. But this initial impression, Rose thought, was somewhat misleading. Jemima was prettier than on first glance she appeared to be. But, unlike Emmeline, she had not tried to accentuate her looks, rather the reverse was the case. Her clothes were well made but quite plain and a little drab, as if her intention had been to deliberately make herself look dull and less interesting than she might have looked had she been decked out in clothes that were of a brighter hue.
‘Did you oversee the packing of my things, Jem?’ asked Emmeline over her shoulder. Embedded as she was in ermine, she was in the process of allowing the footman to take her luxurious fur coat and hat.
‘Yes, of course, Emmie, there’s no need to worry,’ Jemima answered, unbuttoning her own dull coat, innocent of any fur trimming. Standing behind Emmeline, she appeared immune to the infectious qualities of her friend’s presence, if anything she looked rather exasperated.
Poor thing, thought Rose, I suppose it must be rather trying looking after an heiress. Less charitably Lavinia whispered to her a little while later: ‘Detestable girl. It’s a pity she has to be here to spoil things. And the situation’s made all the worse in that one simply doesn’t know what Jemima’s role is. I mean to say, is she some dependant of the Montacute household or Emmeline’s paid companion? And of course I can’t possibly ask Emmeline. But the way Jemima speaks to her; calling her “Emmie”, if you please! But that does suggest that they are relatives of some kind, doesn’t it? And Emmeline will insist on calling her “Jem”, not “Jemima”, which really is all rather confusing and over familiar, don’t you think? I mean, what is one expected to do? Especially as Jemima will insist on fading into the background at any gathering and suffer being talked to as if she is a lady’s maid.’
03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court Page 3
