Roses and Champange

by Neels, Betty

  They came in a thin trickle to start with and then everyone at once, and at the very end, Lucius ushered his party in. Katrina knew them all, and went from one to the other, laughing and talking until she found herself quiet for a moment and Lucius beside her. He took her hand and looked down at it and smiled.

  ‘That’s a very becoming dress,’ he told her, ‘and how well it goes with the ring.’ He took two glasses from the tray Lovelace was carrying. ‘I’m going to tell everyone here that we’re engaged.’ He added: ‘With your permission, of course.’

  Which he didn’t wait for. He made the announcement quietly in his calm deep voice, still holding her hand, and the moment he started to speak the chatter died down, just as though everyone there had been expecting him to tell them something momentous. The minute that he had finished they all crowded round, congratulating, drinking healths, kissing and shaking hands. And the women all wanted to see the ring, of course. Katrina, caught off balance, smiled and murmured and smiled again, her hand held fast in Lucius’s firm grip. It was like being in a dream; she seemed to have lost all power to think sensibly; it couldn’t be happening to her—until now Lucius’s preposterous idea, brought to light from time to time, had still been vague enough for her to ignore it for most of the time, and even when she had thought about it, she supposed she had never quite believed it. All the same, he could have warned her. She was as surprised as her guests, probably more so.

  The news lengthened the party considerably, and it was well after eight o’clock by the time the last guest had gone home. She had had no chance to speak to Lucius and now, as Lovelace shut the door finally, Lucius said: ‘Run and get your coat, Katie. The others will be famished if we don’t join them at once. I bought some champagne for your people, you don’t mind if I let them have it now?’

  She shook her head; he seemed to have thought of everything. When she had had time to pull herself together she thought peevishly, running up the stairs to her room, she would call a halt to his nonsense. She got back in time to see a delighted Lovelace accepting several bottles of champagne. His elderly face creased into a smile as he saw her.

  ‘I’m sure we’re delighted, Miss Katrina—what a splendid piece of news, if I may say so! How pleased Mr and Mrs Gibson would have been—the families being so close, as it were, and you and Mr Lucius being so close too.’

  He went on his dignified way to the kitchen and Katrina said: ‘I should go to the kitchen with him and tell Mrs Beecham.’

  Lucius opened the door. ‘I told Lovelace that we’d both go when I bring you back after dinner.’

  She said quietly: ‘Aren’t you taking a lot for granted, Lucius? I’m not a child to be ordered about, you know.’

  He said gently: ‘You always left everything to me when you were a little girl—you trusted me then, I wish you would trust me now.’

  She shivered a little in the cold air seeping in through the open door. She said sharply: ‘I’m not a little girl, I’m twenty-seven. And I don’t understand why you’re doing this—I can’t believe it’s just to get even with Virginia. You said it was to make things easier for me here, and I suppose that’s true. Only I feel a fraud...’

  ‘No need.’ He took her arm and went into the night, shutting the door behind them, settling her in the car and getting in beside her. ‘But you still trust me?’

  ‘I can’t ever remember you letting me down. Yes, I trust you, Lucius.’ She added: ‘But I don’t see why you’re going to such lengths.’

  Lucius said harshly: ‘I don’t want even the gentlest snigger made at your expense, not even a small smile from your dearest friends. Virginia may not have meant to do harm, to hold you up to ridicule, get cheap laughs at your expense, but she could have succeeded. You’re liked—loved—by everyone who knows you, my dear, but we all have our human failings, and one is to enjoy another’s discomfiture even while one is sympathizing.’

  He started the car and they had made the short journey to his house before she answered. ‘I feel so ashamed—that I ever thought you were just getting the better of Virginia—to teach her a lesson.’ She turned to look at him. ‘Lucius, I think you must be the best friend anyone could wish for.’

  He didn’t answer, only dropped a casual kiss on the top of her head.

  Hours later, curled up in her bed, sleepily going over the evening, she concluded that it was one of the nicest of the year. Lucius’s family had been charming to her, they had toasted the pair of them in champagne, welcomed her warmly as a member of the family and urged a wedding as soon as possible. They had dined then, Lucius’s traditional Christmas Eve dinner: lobster soup, eggs en cocotte a la creme, roast sirloin of beef and horseradish, and a superb trifle by way of pudding. There had been Muscadet and claret, and brandy with the coffee, although she hadn’t had that; she hadn’t needed it either. She had been happy enough, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks.

  She was up early the next morning. Other Christ-mases, when Virginia had been at home, they had opened their presents together after breakfast, but the idea of sitting alone doing this didn’t bear thinking of. Lovelace and Mrs Beecham and Maudie and Annie, the second girl from the village, were going to join her in the sitting room and bring Old John and the boy with them. They came in ushered by Lovelace, chorused ‘A Merry Christmas’ to her, received their gifts, handed her a large square package and stood waiting while she opened it—a wooden fruit bowl, simple, well polished and eminently usable. ‘So you can take it with you when you go to Stockley House, Miss Katrina,’ explained Mrs Beecham, ‘and if only we’d known in time, we’d have got a little something for Mr Lucius. And we did appreciate him coming with you to the kitchens last night to tell us you’re going to be married. Having known you both for such a long time, me and Lovelace were fair honoured, as you might say.’

  ‘It’s beautiful, and I—we shall use it constantly. Thank you all very much. I haven’t had time to talk to you, but you’ll all stay on here, of course, if—when I go. We thought we might ask someone in the family to come and live here.’

  Lovelace gave a dignified nod. ‘A very suitable idea, Miss Katrina. I presume the house will stay in the family for future use?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right, Lovelace. But we’ll talk about that later—it won’t be just yet. Mr Lucius and I are going on holiday after the New Year.’

  ‘So we’ve been given to understand, Miss Katrina. Will you have coffee before you leave for church?’

  ‘No, thank you—or just a moment. Mr Lucius will be fetching me, if he’s early we might even have a cup together.’

  When they’d gone, Katrina turned to her own pile of gifts stacked neatly on the sofa table—any number of them. Like a child she opened the ones from friends first, putting the labels carefully on one side, admiring the handkerchiefs, the bottles of scent, the notepaper and boxes of soap; and then turning to the family presents; aunts and uncles she seldom saw but who exchanged a gift with her each Christmas. They had all done her proud this year—delicate figurines of porcelain, a charming vase, a silver photo frame, and the Massey family had, as they always did, clubbed together. This year it was a glass scent bottle with a delicate opaque flower stopper. There was nothing from Virginia and James, but she excused them instantly; they had been far too busy with their wedding preparations to have had time for Christmas presents. There were three packages left now, and she undid the first one with a glance at the clock. She would have to get ready for church. Lucius would be here in ten minutes or so.

  She was staring at the contents as the door opened and he came in.

  ‘Merry Christmas,’ he said cheerfully, and took the diamond and sapphire brooch from her and pinned it on to her dress.

  ‘Lucius, it’s gorgeous! Thank you very much, and a Happy Christmas.’ She lifted her face as unselfconsciously as a child and he kissed her cheek. ‘Do you want coffee? Is there time?’

  He went over to the brass wall bell and tugged it. ‘Ten minutes or more. They’ll
wait for us anyway.’ He said it without arrogance, accepting it as his right as lord of the manor. ‘Open the other two while the coffee comes.’

  An antique pearl-studded heart on a gold chain, thin as a spider’s thread, and in the third and last box a pearl studded gold bangle. Katrina put them both on and went to study herself in the great mirror hanging on the wall. ‘But Lucius,’ she protested hesitantly, ‘three things—I mean, the brooch is beautiful... You’re too generous!’

  Lovelace came hi with the coffee tray and he poured them each a cup. ‘I like giving you presents,’ he said quietly, ‘and I’m glad you like them.’

  ‘Oh, I do, I do, only I don’t feel I deserve them. I’m not even beautiful enough to do them justice.’

  He smiled. ‘You’ve got that round the wrong way, my dear. Drink your coffee and pop on a hat and coat.’

  The little church was crowded, and since the Mas-sey pews were at the front, they had to walk the length of the aisle. Katrina was very conscious of the smiling stares and more than thankful to have Lucius’s calm bulk beside her. The family pews were full, of course; the younger cousins had overflowed into the pew behind, but two places had been kept for Lucius and herself. Her own pew was empty. Singing the opening carol while the choir, in clean surplices, processed to their places, she thought busily. Hardly the place in which to arrange one’s future, she reminded herself, but she didn’t seem able to stop herself. She would have to persuade one of her elderly aunts to come and live in her home. She drew a breath. Here she was making plans, just as though she and Lucius were going to get married even though he had said that after a time they would let their engagement peter out...she wondered how you petered out an engagement without loss of dignity. Were they to come back from Greece disengaged again? And wouldn’t that cause people to gossip even more than they had done over Virginia’s wild statements?

  She frowned and sighed, unaware that Lucius’s eyes were upon her face, reading every thought there.

  On their way back in the car, he said: ‘You didn’t hear a word of Mr Moffat’s excellent sermon and half the time you forgot to sing. What’s troubling you, Katie?’

  There wasn’t time to tell him. She said brightly that there was absolutely nothing the matter and began to talk about the day ahead of them, wishing with all her heart that she was one of those clever women who always knew what they were doing and why, and had an answer for every problem—perhaps they were clever enough not to have problems.

  The day unfolded itself into the pattern of countless former Christmas days—drinks, while everyone thanked everyone else for their presents, a buffet lunch of delicious bits and pieces, a walk through the park for those who wanted while the elderlies dozed, and then tea round the fire in the drawing room; muffins in old-fashioned muffin dishes, paper-thin china, tiny sandwiches and the Christmas cake. It was a leisurely meal with everyone talking at once and a lot of laughter, and Katrina, sitting on the floor beside the oldest Uncle Massey’s chair, was content.

  Presently Lucius drove her back home to change for the evening. Dinner on Christmas night was something of an event at Stockley, and everyone was dressed accordingly. She had decided on the new pink dress, a happy foil for her new jewellery, but first she went along to the kitchens to see how Lovelace and his companions were enjoying their day. Splendidly, they assured her, while she approved of the table decked ready for their own meal.

  ‘Everyone’s coming for tea tomorrow, Mrs Bee-chain—could you cope? All the Massey family— that’s eleven—and me. I shall be at Stockley for lunch and dinner. We’re riding before breakfast and I expect Mr Lucius will have it with me here. Could you manage that? And scones for tea—Great-Uncle Tom loves them.’

  ‘You just leave it to me, Miss Katrina,’ Mrs Bee-cham beamed across the table, ‘and I’ll pop one of my chocolate sponges in the oven with them.’

  Katrina bathed and dressed slowly. There was time enough and she wanted to look her best. The rose-coloured silk was certainly delightful and gave her rather mousy looks a glow. She took pains with her hair and face, collected a purse and slippers, picked up her coat and went downstairs to wait for Lucius.

  He was there in the sitting room when she went in, leaning his weight against the drum table between the windows, reading a letter. He looked up as she went in, put the letter into a pocket and went to meet her.

  ‘You’re early,’ she observed matter-of-factly.

  I needed a few minutes’ peace and quiet.’ He studied her slowly. ‘That’s charming,’ he told her. ‘You know, Katie, given the right clothes, you’d be a pretty girl.’

  This from Lucius was praise indeed; she thanked him warmly and added: ‘You chose the dress.’ He took her hands and stood smiling down at her. ‘I’ve chosen the girl too.’

  She smiled, with the unspoken thought that it was only a temporary choice, after all. She dismissed it at once because it made her sad, and Christmas Day wasn’t meant for sadness; which meant that she took care to be a good deal more animated than she usually was, chattering away in a most untypical manner as he drove her back to Stockley House.

  The vast hall was quiet as they went inside. Cobb took her coat before Lucius waved him away, his footsteps hardly sounded on the thick carpet, just as the voices in the drawing room were muffled by old walls and heavy drapes. She had started to cross the hall, but Lucius stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  ‘There’s something...’ he began. ‘What’s on your mind, Katie? I thought we had everything settled, but you look as though you’re on the verge of making some great discovery.’ He smiled at her as he spoke, but she didn’t smile back; she was tonguetied, frozen into immobility, because that was exactly what she had just done. Made a great discovery—that she was in love with Lucius, standing there so bland and calm—like a brother, she thought furiously. She longed to shake that calm even while she admitted that she had no idea how to set about it.

  Chapter 6

  She thought of their conversation in the hall before they left. Katrina had found her voice; rather high and wooden, but still a voice. She said inanely: ‘Oh, yes— really? Well...’ and then: ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Lucius was looking at her very intently, his grey eyes thoughtful. ‘No, thanks. There’s punch waiting for us, Great-Uncle Tom’s own recipe, heaven help us all.’ He smiled then and she had smiled back at him carefully. On no account must he ever discover her feelings about him; she must remember to be the old friend, the girl from next door. Providentially Lovelace came into the room, and she turned away from Lucius to ask him if they had all they needed in the kitchen and to wish him goodnight. ‘Don’t wait up, Lovelace,’ she told him. ‘I shan’t be late, but I’ll lock up as I come in.’

  Lovelace preceded them into the hall and opened the door. ‘Very well, Miss Katrina. We all hope you both enjoy a good evening.’

  The echo of their combined thanks hung on the frosty air as they got into the car.

  ‘We’re riding in the morning?’ asked Lucius as he started the car. To refuse would make him ask why. ‘Yes, I’d like to. Would you like to come back to breakfast?’

  ‘Thanks. What are you doing for the rest of the day?’ He added slowly: ‘We ought to spend it together, you know.’

  Katrina said in what she hoped was a perfectly natural voice: ‘Oh dear—and I promised I’d go over to Mrs Lovell’s.’ Which was quite true in a way, she had, but she hadn’t said when. ‘Lunch,’ she added; she would have to take the car somewhere, have lunch at a pub, and stay away until teatime.

  ‘Dinner, then,’ said Lucius, and this time she had agreed meekly.

  Christmas dinner was as traditional as Christmas Eve’s had been: lobster patties, roast turkey with a vast assortment of vegetables, little sausages, and a huge baked ham, and then the pudding, aflame with brandy and borne to the table with ceremony by Cobb. There were trifles, jellies, fresh fruit salad, thick rich cream and brandy butter, and lastly Welsh rarebit and Stilton with the port.
The meal took a long time because everyone talked so much, but finally at Dora’s signal, Katrina, Jeremy’s fiancee, and Miss Porter, the companion, rose from the table and went back to the drawing room, where naturally enough and not at all to Katrina’s liking, the talk was of weddings; hers and Lucius’s in particular, of course. She reminded herself that they were all kindly disposed towards her, their eager talk of white satin, bridesmaids and whether to have the full choir was genuinely friendly, and it seemed to her to be positively unkind to contradict them in any way. She murmured in what she hoped was a noncommittal way and was relieved when the men joined them, but only briefly, for Lucius made no effort to divert the talk into other channels—indeed, he positively encouraged his guests to wallow in a lengthy discussion as to the exact happenings of previous weddings in the Massey family, with a great many asides as to whether he intended to follow them to the letter.

  She was rendered speechless when he said casually: ‘Probably Katie and I will get married while we’re in Greece, but if we do, I promise you we’ll have a reception here when we get back.’

  Which at least turned everyone’s thoughts to Greece. Great-Uncle Tom, who had spent several holidays there, had a great deal to say about its history, and unfortunately addressed most of his remarks to Katrina, who beyond a vague knowledge of the Acropolis, Delphi and the beauties of the Aegean islands, was quite unable to cope with a flood of information about Greek gods and goddesses, Atlanta and the golden apples, Poseidon, Hestia and Demeter; Athena and Dionysus. They sounded to her ears to be a bloodthirsty lot. It was when Great-Uncle Tom started quoting bits of Greek to her that Lucius took pity on her and started a discussion with the old man about classical Greek, quoting bits back at him, to his uncle’s great delight, and leaving her free to listen to Dora’s gentle dissertation on catering for a wedding. It seemed that she hadn’t taken Lucius’s remarks about getting married in Greece seriously.