‘I thought that it was best to present it as a fait accompli, simply because I know your honest heart and mind. And that you would have talked me out of it. Please remember, it is me who has handed my title and the estate to Teddy on a plate. One day, the son of a Lakeland shepherd will be the next Lord Vaughan.’ Archie smiled grimly. ‘And I cannot think of a better way to honour a man who fell in the trenches than by making his son a lord.’
Flora remained silent, finally understanding Archie’s reasoning. More and more, she had become aware of his guilt over surviving when so many had fallen. This was his gift to atone for all those lives lost. And he had given it to Teddy.
She knew there was nothing she could say. The deed was done. For better or for worse. And Flora realised that now, she too was culpable in the deception.
Archie and Flora finally announced their engagement the following autumn, in 1920, planning to be married three months later at Christmas.
After much agonising and gentle persuasion from Archie, Flora had decided to invite Rose to the wedding. Rose had recently returned from India, having gone out to stay with a cousin after her husband’s death. On her arrival home, she had sold the house in the Highlands and rented an elegant flat on Albemarle Street in London. She had written to her daughter on receipt of the wedding invitation, entreating Flora to pay her a visit. And there, Rose had wept, apologising to her for the deception and the difficult childhood Flora had endured. And for her subsequent lack of support after the King had died.
‘You do understand that, just like Mrs Keppel, I had to stay away? Any contact with you, given the suspicion you were already placed under, not to mention Alistair’s continual bitterness towards the situation . . . I felt that it was for the best. Also, I was frightened of seeing you again, the terrible things you might say. Can you forgive me?’
And eventually Flora had forgiven her – in her blissful state, she could have forgiven anyone anything. At least the two of them had been able to share their grief over Aurelia’s loss.
‘I did not even know she had died until two months later. The post in Poona is so very unreliable,’ Rose said. ‘I could not even attend my own daughter’s funeral.’
Even though her mother had initially questioned the fact that Archie had only mentioned Louise in the letter informing her of Aurelia’s death, she had put it down to an oversight due to his grief at the time. And once Rose arrived for the wedding celebrations and saw the ‘twins’ at High Weald, crawling and playing together, any lingering doubt had been washed away.
‘Dear Teddy looks so very like his mother,’ Rose had commented, dabbing away her tears as Teddy sat on her knee, his innocent blue eyes reminding Flora too of her sister’s.
‘Who would have thought it?’ Rose had murmured as she’d helped Flora into her cream wedding dress on the day of her marriage. ‘We all thought you loathed Archie Vaughan. I am sure Aurelia would be happy if she could see what has happened since. Her babies thriving under your care.’
The wedding took place in the old church where Flora had last watched her new husband marry her sister. It was a small but intimate service, out of respect for Aurelia. And the look in Archie’s eyes as he had finally placed the ring on her finger was one she would hold with her forever.
‘I’ll love you always,’ he breathed as he kissed her.
‘I love you too.’
It was only on their wedding night that Flora saw the damage the Great War had wreaked on his body. Both of his legs were a mass of scars caused by burns from the Bristol 22 that he’d crash-landed. He had struggled to release himself from the burning wreck, but his co-pilot had perished a few minutes later when the plane had been consumed in a blaze of fire.
Flora could only love him more for his courage and bravery, as he gently made love to her for the very first time.
During the first year of their marriage, Flora often wondered that her body could contain the joy she felt with Archie by her side, and Teddy and Louise growing up at a High Weald that was filled with positivity and love.
Louise was gentle and sweet, just like her mother, yet she had also inherited her father’s sharp intelligence and natural air of authority. And despite Teddy’s more volatile nature, Louise not only tolerated, but adored and defended the boy she – and everyone else – believed to be her twin.
Over dinner one evening, Archie told Flora of how he’d taken two-year-old Teddy to the stables, and sat him up with him on his horse.
‘Do you know, he did not cry once, even when we began to trot. He kept shouting, “More, Papa! More!”’ Archie said proudly.
Flora was happy to see the bond between the two of them grow and deepen. And thought that perhaps Archie’s decision to lie about Teddy’s true birth had been the right one.
The Vaughan family settled down to enjoy the golden years between the wars in the paradise of their beautiful home. The ‘twins’ grew and flourished, their closeness remarked upon by everyone in the household and all who came to visit.
However, when they reached the age of ten, Flora’s discomfort over lying about the fact she was their blood mother became too much for her.
‘I feel like a fraud,’ she said desolately to Archie. ‘Louise at least must know that Aurelia was her real mother. Besides, someone from the village is bound to mention her as they grow up. But that means we must lie to Teddy about his own mother.’
‘As we have discussed many times before, surely it’s a small price to pay for his safety and comfort here with us?’ Archie countered. ‘Although I agree: we must tell them about Aurelia.’
Subsequently, Teddy and Louise appeared hand in hand in the drawing room a few days later, looking for all the world like little cherubs, freshly scrubbed after their bath. Flora and Archie sat them down and told them of their real mother, a pang in Flora’s heart as she looked at Teddy’s trusting expression. Both of her children looked shocked and uncertain.
‘May we still call you “Mother”?’ Louise asked timidly, her dark brown eyes fixed on Flora.
‘Of course you may, my darling.’
‘Because you’ve always been our mother,’ added Teddy, his own eyes filling with tears.
‘Yes, I have.’ Flora drew them both to her. ‘And I will always love you and care for you both, I promise.’
As Teddy grew to manhood, Archie taught him all he knew about country pursuits. Teddy, being a child of the Lakes, had taken to them like a duck to water. But when he reached thirteen, Archie insisted he followed in his footsteps and – against Flora and Louise’s fervent wishes – sent him to Charterhouse, a boarding school nearby. It was there that Teddy began to rebel against academia and the routine such an establishment insisted on. Flora tried to tell Archie that Teddy was happiest out in the open air, that it was in his blood to wander across the land, but he would have none of it.
‘He must do as any young man of his class does and learn how to be a gentleman,’ he’d insisted.
Teddy’s misery and continued rebellion was the only thorn in Flora’s side. She knew that, just like everyone else at High Weald, Archie had forgotten who Teddy really was.
37
December 1943
BEATRIX IS DEAD!
Lady Flora Vaughan, no longer able to see the page in her journal, put down her ink pen and wept. The telegram had arrived only a few hours ago and she could hardly believe that, amidst all the renewed death and destruction of war, and the telegrams that arrived regularly to the villagers of High Weald, she herself had received one.
‘My dearest, dearest friend . . .’ It seemed almost inconceivable that such a force of nature – the woman and the writer, and the kindest, cleverest person she knew – would never walk again across her beloved fells.
‘Darling, what is it?’
Archie leant over her to read the telegram. ‘I’m so very sorry. I know what she meant to you.’
‘What she meant to us. Beatrix was the one who encouraged me to come here to you and Louise. Not to
mention bringing Teddy to my door.’
‘Yes, it’s a terrible loss. Would you like me to stay with you today? I am due at the Air Ministry for a meeting, but I can always cancel it.’
‘No.’ Flora kissed the hand clasping her shoulder. ‘As Beatrix always said, when someone dies, life must go on. But thank you for offering. Will you be back for supper tonight?’
‘I hope so. The trains are terrible at the moment.’ Archie gave his wife a tender kiss on the cheek. ‘You know where I am if you need me.’
‘Is Teddy taking you to the station?’
‘I’ll drive myself,’ Archie said abruptly. ‘I will see you later, darling.’
He left the study and Flora stared out at the walled garden the two of them had rebuilt. Currently, a thick layer of frost shielded its glory, reminding her of that December day thirty-four years ago when Archie had kissed her under the yew tree. Now, both Louise and Teddy were older than she and Archie had been then. And another Christmas was approaching.
Knowing she scarcely had time to grieve today, Flora sent up a small prayer for her dear departed friend, then consulted her to-do list. At five o’clock, the pre-Christmas celebrations would begin with a party for the Land Girls, and she would help Mrs Tanit set out the homemade cider to go with the freshly made mince pies. Flora wanted an evening of fun for the girls, who had arrived a year ago to replace the men away fighting, and who had worked so hard on the High Weald estate. They would be departing early tomorrow morning on a specially chartered bus, which would take them back to their families for Christmas.
And then, on Christmas Eve, her mother would arrive to spend the festive season at High Weald. Flora marvelled at how her relationship with her mother had changed. Rose was a welcome guest at High Weald, and a more regular one now that rationing in London was hitting hard. Flora thanked God for the chickens that laid their eggs, although the fattest chicken would be missing from the coop by this evening. Over time, she’d had to give in to her family’s demand for meat and ‘Dottie’ was this year’s sacrifice.
To cheer her spirits, she counted her blessings that her family had not suffered during the war as other families had; neither of her beloved men had left to fight: Archie because he’d been invalided out in the Great War and was too old to enlist, and Teddy due to the ridiculous miracle of his flat feet. Flora still did not know how this could possibly have hindered him as a soldier, especially as he was so energetic on them, but neither did she care. The condition had saved her son from possible death.
The news had caused Archie some concern – after all, the young squire of the village was meant to be an example – but it was hardly Teddy’s fault and he had sworn that he would play as active a role from home as he possibly could.
Sadly, his attempts at doing so were continually curtailed. Her husband cited lack of discipline, but Flora put it down to the high spirits of a young man who had come of age during a war. With his friends from Oxford leaving to join up, her son’s enthusiasm for his studies had waned, and after a term of what the head of his college had called ‘unsuitable behaviour for an Oxford undergraduate’, Teddy had been sent down.
Since then, he’d tried the Home Guard, but had found it difficult to take orders, calling the local guard ‘crusty old fuddy-duddies’. Flora then acquiesced to Teddy’s request to manage the farm when Albert, the farm manager, had joined up. But Teddy’s inability to get up at dawn had irritated the handful of long-serving farm staff under his command.
Archie had then secured Teddy an administration job at the Air Ministry on Kingsway, where he himself worked, but that hadn’t lasted long either. Flora wasn’t sure of the details – a grim-faced Archie had merely said it had been decided Teddy should leave to find other employment. Reading between the lines, Flora had surmised it was something to do with a girl.
It was hardly surprising that women swooned over him. With his height, strong build and blond, blue-eyed looks, not to mention his charm, he could hardly fail to attract attention from the female sex. Teddy would be twenty-five soon, and was yet to settle down. Flora was certain that, when he did, all the wrongs would be righted and her darling son would become worthy of the title and the estate he would one day inherit.
Flora walked down the icy passageway into the warm, steamy kitchen, where Mrs Tanit was conjuring up something that smelt like mince pies but were cleverly made from all manner of alternative ingredients.
‘How are you doing?’ Flora asked her.
‘Very well, thank you, ma’am. What would you like for dinner later? I was thinking I could use the leftover pastry to make a savoury pie for the others. I have some spinach, mash and eggs I can fry for you,’ she said in her softly accented voice.
‘Goodness, a pie! Now that would be a treat. As long as we can find something to put in it.’
‘Mr Tanit has found some beef shin going spare in the village. I thought I could use that.’
Flora knew better than to ask its provenance. The local black market for meat was rife. And just this once, she wouldn’t resist. ‘You can indeed,’ she agreed, grateful once again for the Tanits’ presence. The young couple were not afraid of hard work. Mr Tanit not only drove, he also assisted Flora with the never-ending jobs in the gardens and the orchard, such as collecting the windfall apples, as well as helping to tend the menagerie that Flora had gathered under her protection over the years.
‘Can you also make up my mother’s usual room?’ Flora asked Mrs Tanit. ‘Oh, and of course, we will need mulled wine for the villagers’ drinks tomorrow at lunchtime. Take some red wine from the cellar, but we’ll have to make do without the oranges.’ Even the thought of an orange made Flora’s senses tingle with longing.
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘And tonight, Louise is bringing the Land Girls up at five sharp,’ she added in afterthought. She left the kitchen, and then went back to her study to write a letter of condolence to William, Beatrix’s husband. Flora had just put her pen down when there was a knock on the door.
‘Come.’
‘Hello, Mother, am I disturbing you?’ Louise popped her head round the door, her shoulder-length auburn hair neatly held back with two combs, her dark eyes so like Archie’s.
‘Of course not. Although I have just had some very sad news. My friend Beatrix died yesterday.’
‘Oh Mother, I’m so terribly sorry. I know how fond of her you were. And such a talent lost to us too. I remember you used to read Teddy and me her animal stories.’
‘The world will certainly be a lesser place without her.’
‘It’s so sad that she didn’t live to see peace. I am sure it will be coming soon. Or at least, I hope it will,’ Louise corrected herself.
‘What is it you wish to see me about, darling?’
‘Oh . . . it’s nothing. It can wait for another day. The girls are all very excited about tonight’s party,’ she continued brightly.
‘And we will do our best to make it as cheerful as we can.’
‘I have sewn them lavender bags to take home as a gift,’ she said. ‘And we are all dressing up!’
‘Wonderful, and please do not think that I will be sad this evening. Beatrix would not have wanted any of us to mourn.’
‘Nevertheless, any loss is a difficult one, and I know that you are simply being brave.’ Louise walked over and kissed Flora on the cheek. ‘I will see you at five o’clock.’
‘Is Teddy coming this evening, do you know? I have asked him to attend.’
‘He said he’d try, but he’s very busy today.’
Doing what? Flora asked herself as Louise left the room. And then put away the thought. He was her son and she had to trust him.
The Land Girls gathered later that evening in the drawing room, drinking cider and eating Mrs Tanit’s excellent tribute to mince pies, made from dried plums and apples gathered from the orchard earlier in autumn. Louise was encouraged onto the piano, and they sang Christmas carols with gusto, before ending with Vera Lynn’s �
��We’ll Meet Again’.
As Louise ushered the girls out to the lobby to collect their coats and return to the two cottages they occupied near the stables, Flora saw a look of concern on her daughter’s face.
‘Is everything all right, Louise?’
‘One of my girls – Tessie – seems to be missing. Never mind, I’m sure she’ll turn up sooner or later.’ Louise pecked Flora on the cheek. ‘If you don’t mind, I won’t join you and Papa for dinner. I’d like to spend the rest of the evening with the girls.’
‘Of course. No sign of Teddy then?’
‘No. Goodnight, Mother.’ Louise herded the girls outside and Flora watched from a window as she marched them down the drive by the light of a lantern. She thought fondly of what a huge help her daughter had been, running the Land Girls single-handedly in a calm and friendly manner, with not a hint of snobbery about her. Flora knew they all adored her.
She headed to the kitchen and, checking inside the range, she saw the meat pie keeping warm along with the mashed potatoes and cabbage Mrs Tanit had left before returning to her own cottage.
Thinking once more how her solitary, servantless existence in the Lakes had prepared her so perfectly for the war years here, she carried a tray of empty cider glasses through from the drawing room and began to wash them up while she waited for Archie – and Teddy – to return. These days, they ate at the table in the kitchen. It was the warmest place in the house, and even though there were trees suitable to be chopped for firewood, both Flora and Archie had agreed that they must not live above those who were suffering deprivation across the world.
Archie arrived through the back door twenty minutes later, his face worn with exhaustion, but his eyes alight. ‘Darling, how are you?’ He kissed her warmly. ‘And how was the party? Forgive me for missing it, but I was in a meeting. And I have some good news.’
‘It was very cheery.’ Flora donned an apron and began to serve up supper, thinking that they would not wait for Teddy or the pie would be spoilt. ‘What is your news?’
The Shadow Sister Page 41
