“I’m an old fool, Ro, dear. A very old fool.”
“What?” Ro shook her head. “Of course you’re not! What is this all about? Do tell me, Uncle Henry.”
“Yes, I must. The thing is … you see … oh, dash it, I must simply say it—I’m afraid I’ve lost all my money in an investment scheme. I must sell Halesworth Hall to settle my debts. It’s as I told you. I’m an old fool.”
Wide-eyed, Ro stared at her uncle for quite some time. At first she thought he was playing a trick on her—how could it be true? They had never worried about money. They had never spoken about it, but Ro had been vaguely aware over the years that Aunt Charlotte had made several wise investments and that, financially, they were quite secure. “But, Aunt Charlotte…,” Ro began.
“I have undone all her good work, my dear. And then some. It seems the certain thing I invested in was not so certain after all. Suggested by a friend, you know.”
“Oh,” Ro replied, dumbly, for what else was there to say? Uncle Henry was not one to play games. If he told her he had lost all his money, then he had lost all his money and that was the end of it.
“I have made a terrible mess of things, I know that. Oh, what would your Aunt Charlotte think?” He shook his head before her as he stared at the floor.
Ro knew what Aunt Charlotte would think—she would be furious. She sighed. “Uncle Henry … I’m sure … I’m sure everything will work itself out.” She remembered something then. “Is that why you didn’t want me to order those clothes? When we were staying at Claridge’s?”
Mutely, Uncle Henry nodded.
“You didn’t forget to pay the bill the last time I had made an order. You couldn’t pay the bill.”
Another shamefaced nod.
“Oh, dear.” Ro sighed again, bending forward and placing her head in her hands. “Oh, no.”
Seeing this, her uncle reached forward to touch her knee. “Now, I don’t want you to worry, Ro. Your Aunt Alice has offered to take you in and…”
“Aunt Alice!” Ro looked up quickly. Aunt Alice was Aunt Charlotte’s awful sister who altogether despised Uncle Henry and his scholarly ways. She lived in Norfolk, in the middle of nowhere, with her equally ancient sister-in-law (her husband had died years ago) and far, far too many dogs that she refused to admit smelled terribly. Living with Aunt Alice would be … unthinkable.
“I know it is not ideal…” Uncle Henry grimaced. “Of course, your Aunt Hestia has also said that you are most welcome here.”
Ro shook her head, speechless.
Uncle Henry prattled on for a few more minutes, while Ro sat in stony silence, running over her now very few options in life. She had been hoping to study medicine at a university (either in England, or abroad—she and Uncle Henry had discussed both options). Obviously, that would not be possible now. She simply could not land on Hestia’s doorstep and ask to be sent away for an expensive course of study. The trip with Harriet’s family over the coming summer was also, obviously, cancelled. These thoughts went unspoken and, eventually, Uncle Henry made movements as if to leave and, automatically, Ro stood up, kissed him good-bye on the cheek, and wished him well.
* * *
Ro wasn’t sure how long she sat, alone, in the drawing room with her thoughts. It was only when Thalia, Clio, and Haggis McTavish reentered the room that she looked around and realized Uncle Henry had gone.
“Are you ready to try on your costume now?” Thalia bounded across to the sofa to stand next to her. “The maid told me your uncle had gone. Oh, and while you were talking to your uncle, Hestia came home. I asked her about Dr. Hollingsworth’s mistress comments,” Thalia said. “She swears that she doesn’t know anything about anyone else being in the house that day. Though, as she said, it was a very large house. There could easily have been someone in another room and she would never have known about it. It made us all feel quite sick thinking about Charles’s mother in that situation. Imagine carrying a child and being a part of what went on at our birth. It wouldn’t half put you off, would it?! Why, whatever’s the matter, Ro? You’ve gone quite pale. I didn’t take you as squeamish.”
“Me?” Ro woke up to herself with this. “No, it’s not that. I’m fine.”
“Your uncle said he had news?” Clio stepped forward, looking concerned. “I hope everything is all right?”
Quickly, Ro nodded and tried to compose herself. She could not let them know. Especially not Thalia. “No. It was nothing of importance. He has taken a teaching position and I will need to stay here, if Hestia will have me. Well, either that or go live with my Aunt Alice and that is certainly not an option I am willing to entertain, even for a moment.”
“Now you know how I feel,” Thalia replied.
“Yes,” Ro agreed, in a half whisper. “I suppose so.”
“Now, come on.” Thalia took one sister under each arm. “You must try on your costume as well. Clio’s looked quite nice, but we will need to look absolutely top shelf tonight. Everyone will be going to a great deal of trouble and I will not have us outshone.”
Behind Thalia’s shoulder blades, Clio shot Ro a look and Ro managed to return what she hoped looked something like a bright smile that implied everything was fine. As the three girls made their way upstairs, Thalia continued to prattle on, though Ro found she could not hear a word her sister was saying. Instead, her sister’s words from the other day rang loud and clear in her ears …
You need money, Thalia had said to Clio, I need money. And you need—she had turned to Ro herself at this point—I’m not sure. The truth, a family, but eventually you’ll discover you need money. Everyone does.
How awfully, stingingly right she had been.
* * *
“Clio! Do hurry up!” Thalia called from the bottom of the stairs. “The motor will be here at any moment! I hope you have that lipstick on that I gave you!”
“I’m coming,” Clio said, turning to take a final look at herself before she headed downstairs. She had to admit it was a much nicer outfit than she had hoped for. She had expected Thalia to order her some sort of awful bodiced contraption that would have her displaying her wares in a manner she would be uncomfortable with. Instead, she was wearing something altogether the opposite—a simple, long, creamy white sheath with silver details around the neck, wide cuffs and hem, a long silver tasseled belt that cinched the outfit neatly in at the waist, and some sort of round silver headpiece with a veil attached. With a sigh, Clio adjusted the headpiece, wondering how on earth she was going to keep it on all night. The headpiece forced her hair from her face and Clio had to wrestle with it in order to cover the small scar on her right temple. She knew no one else ever noticed it, but she was aware of it and, thus, liked her curls to cover the small imperfection. Being teased as a small child in the schoolyard tends to bring out the vanity in all of us, she reckoned.
Hopefully, Thalia would not force them to stay out too late. Clio had tried every excuse already in the hope of being allowed to stay in this evening to no avail. Thalia would hear nothing of it. The thing was, every moment that she spent with her sisters was torture, having to remember what she knew and what they didn’t know. She ached to tell them what Hestia had told her the other day, and to show them the memorial portrait, but the fear of Thalia using the information against her held her back. She must have that money for her mother. And soon. She wasn’t sure how this would be possible, but she was hoping that clever Ro would work out a way to make it so, finding out something or other that would convince Charles the money should be theirs. Thankfully, the breathing exercises the Oxford doctor had instructed her mother to do, as well as the medicine that had been ordered for her, seemed to be making some difference. For now, Clio had a little more time.
“Clio! I said, do you have that lipstick on?”
“Yes, yes!” With a huff, Clio picked up her skirt with one hand and made her way from the room. “I’m here!” She stomped down the stairs. As she did, she saw that both Ro and Thalia were waiting in
the hall. Ro was dressed in an equally modest burgundy bell-sleeved, full skirted dress, with a cone-shaped headdress and short veil. Thalia was wearing something entirely different—a low-cut dress of satin scarlet with a tightly pulled, laced black bodice. On her head, a headband held back a short veil.
“Oh, Clio, you do look lovely!” Ro said, appreciatively, as Clio descended the stairs. “Almost like you’re about to be married! And the lipstick really does suit you. It doesn’t look like lipstick at all—you look as if you’ve been eating blackberries all afternoon! It’s very fetching!”
Clio shrugged slightly. She had only been trying to apply the lipstick as lightly as possible and, in doing so, had rubbed it in, then tried the same procedure on her cheeks, rather than wear the garish rouge that Thalia had supplied her with.
Thalia did not look entirely pleased that the white dress was quite so becoming, or the makeup. “Do come on, the motor’s waiting! You can admire each other all you like once we set off.”
* * *
“Goodness!” Ro said, patting the leather seat beneath her. “How luxurious! Is Haggis McTavish not coming? And don’t tell me that’s…” She eyed the small wicker basket on the floor of the vehicle.
“Yes,” Thalia replied, as the driver snapped shut the door of the Crossley, now that the three girls had all squeezed into the backseat. “It is. And, no, he’s not. It’s well past his bedtime.”
“What is it?” Clio asked, trying to make out its form in the half dark. “In the basket, I mean.”
“It’s a picnic hamper!” Thalia told her. “From Fortnum and Mason. I thought we could picnic as we drive. After all, we wouldn’t want to become hungry.”
Ro peeked inside the lid of the hamper. “Or thirsty,” she said, her eyes widening. “I think there’s more champagne in here than food.”
“Which is just as it should be, for a party, don’t you think?” Thalia added, as the car pulled away sharply from the curb. At this point, Ro went to open her mouth again, but Thalia cut in before she could speak. “Please, no more tiresome talk about money and its origins. It’s all becoming rather dull. I do believe there should be some caviar and some little sandwiches and shortbread and all kinds of treats in there. But first, let’s open a bottle of champagne. Should we let Clio do us the honor?” Thalia gave Ro a look.
“But I’ve never—” Clio started.
“All the more reason to learn how,” Thalia cut her off. “This will be a night of firsts for you, Clio, I’m going to make sure of it.”
It didn’t take long before Clio found herself grimacing as she held the top of the bottle of champagne away from her face. “Now just ease it out with your thumb,” Thalia instructed, glasses at the ready. “It’s quite simple when you know how.”
“But I don’t—”
There was a resounding pop! and Clio opened her previously closed eyes to see Ro with the cork in her hand, which she had instinctively caught.
“Topping catch!” Thalia nodded, expertly holding one glass under the now foaming bottle. Within no time, she had Clio fill each of the three glasses to the brim.
“But—” Clio started again.
“Do stop fussing, Clio.” Thalia shook her head. “You will drink at least one glass of champagne and you will eat at least one of everything in this hamper and you will enjoy the party.” And, with this, Thalia passed Clio a glass and took a long sip from her own. “Perfectly divine,” she said.
* * *
“Are you all right, Clio?” Ro asked as Thalia poured them a third glass of champagne each. Or was it a fourth? Things had grown a bit … fuzzy.
Clio started. “Oh, yes, I was just thinking…”
“About?” Thalia eyed her sister.
Clio flushed. “Oh, I don’t know. Everything, I suppose. About secrets. And lies…” She glanced away with this. “About the past. About how things used to be, compared to how they are now.”
With Clio’s mention of the past, the threesome began to talk about their former lives. Ro admitted she was not entirely missing boarding school, having been there for what felt like forever, but she was missing her friends, especially Harriet. She had written to her last night, but it wasn’t the same as their midnight chats.
“Perhaps you can visit Harriet when school is finished,” Clio told Ro.
Ro nodded. “I’m sure I will. I’d love to take you with me. She has the most brilliant family. They live on a large estate and she has all these older brothers … it’s so much fun.”
“Lots of older brothers? It does sound brilliant,” Thalia drawled, taking a sip of champagne.
“I just hope she doesn’t forget about me,” Ro said.
“Of course she won’t!” Clio replied.
There was a moment’s silence, which Thalia rushed in to fill. “How about you, Clio?” she asked, rather uncharacteristically, Ro thought. “Are you glad you returned to London?”
It took Clio a moment or two to answer. “Things are certainly … different here. I’m not sure what I think right now.”
“Are you missing your friends there?” Ro asked.
“There aren’t a lot of young people in the village,” Clio admitted. “They tend to move away. Either for work, or upon marriage.”
“And beaus?” Thalia inquired.
Clio laughed at this. “Hardly! I’ve never had one of those! Well, that’s not quite true. There was one, once. For a few minutes. Nicholas, his name was.”
“Do tell!” Thalia sat up in her seat, suddenly interested in where the conversation was headed.
“Oh,” Clio said, and caught up in remembering the past, a drop of champagne spilled from her glass. “There isn’t much to tell. I’m afraid you’ll only be bored.”
“Too late now,” Thalia told her. “Get on with it. As chaste as the whole affair might have been, it’s more action than Ro and I saw at home, I’m sure of it.”
Ro nodded. “I’ll say.”
“All right, then.” Clio laughed again, sitting forward slightly on her seat. “He was the son of the vicar from the neighboring village. He was studying history at the university, so he lived away from home, but when he was back on holidays, my father and his father conspired to have him take me for a walk. I was actually quite excited, because I’d seen a photograph of him and he was rather good-looking.” Clio paused here, as if remembering.
“And?” Ro urged her onward.
“Don’t stop now!” Thalia encouraged, taking a long drag on the cigarette she had just lit. “What happened on the walk? Did he try to ravish you?”
Clio burst out laughing now at the very mention of this. “Goodness, no. In fact, the first time we met I thought he was the most boring person who ever lived. All he spoke about was his university. He droned on and on about how Cambridge really was far superior to Oxford.”
Thalia snorted here. “What rot! Everybody knows Oxford is superior to Cambridge. You go to Eton and then Oxford and that’s all there is to it.”
“I think that was the problem,” Clio replied. “He had rather a chip on his shoulder because he hadn’t done exactly that. Anyway, we walked, he talked, and when he took me home, he had the audacity to say he’d had a marvelous time. I was furious when my father told me I should give the man a second chance and see him again! But the funny thing is, he was right. The second time Nicholas called for me, well, things went rather differently. We spoke about other things and…” Clio blushed now. “He might have kissed me.” She scrutinized her sister’s expressions. “See? I knew you wouldn’t think much of it.”
Thalia sighed. “It’s a shame when good looks are wasted. I would have loved a story with a ravishing in it.”
Clio’s expression turned wistful. “I haven’t seen him since then. He moved to Kenya a while ago, to farm coffee, I believe. I would have liked that. Not to mention, it would have been so good for my mother’s health. He did write to me a few months ago…,” she continued. “But I didn’t really know what to say to him. Perhaps I
should write back now?”
Ro spluttered into her glass. “What? You’d consider marrying him because of one kiss and where he lives?”
Clio shrugged slightly. “I’m sure others have done so before me. Is it really so shocking? I have to marry someone, don’t I? And my mother’s lungs won’t get any better by themselves. I could do worse than Nicholas, I assure you!”
“You make him sound so awfully appealing,” Ro replied.
Clio frowned as she stared into her champagne glass. “Nicholas isn’t awful.”
Thalia shuddered. “And he’s not that exciting, either. I can’t believe you’d want to go to Kenya. All that dust. And those huge animals with gigantic teeth. Horrible, really.”
“I think it would be lovely,” Clio said. “I really do. I wish I could move my mother there.”
“Edwin went to Oxford, you know.” Thalia changed the subject badly.
“Edwin?” Clio frowned once more, returning from her African daydream to the rattle of the car as it jolted along the country roads.
“Edwin the truncheon thief?” Ro asked. “Well, it’s good to know that Oxford is producing quality men these days.”
Thalia reached across and flicked Ro playfully on the arm. “I’ll have you know he’s stolen far more interesting things than that,” Thalia told her. “He has a policeman’s helmet in his collection as well.”
“A gentleman does need an occupation, you know,” Ro told Clio, with a grin. After a moment she turned back to Thalia. “You do sound quite smitten with this Edwin fellow.”
Thalia stubbed out her cigarette. “He is rather fabulous. And in all the papers, you know. All the girls think he’s amazing, though I’m not sure anyone will win him. He’s probably untameable. Some things shouldn’t be tamed, though, should they? Still, he’ll be at the party tonight and one never knows one’s luck.”
* * *
By the time they reached the grounds of the castle (really more like a tall stone tower, Clio thought), an hour and a half had passed and Clio found herself rather drunk, tripping slightly as she exited the car. To be truthful, she was glad of her inebriated state, which she found helped her to forget her terrible deceit. She was sure she could not hide her findings from her sisters for much longer, being awfully unaccustomed to lying. If only she could trust Thalia.…
The Heiresses Page 14
