‘I agree, Lady Vaughan. The rules on such a thing are archaic and I only hope that, in the fullness of time, women will have an equal right to both land and titles. However, I am afraid that this will now be a matter for your son to decide. I’m sad to say that neither of you have any jurisdiction over what happens to the High Weald estate. It is irritating indeed that your husband did not live to rewrite his will. You must now fall on the mercy of your son. And so must his sister.’
‘Thank you for your advice, Mr Saunders. No doubt you will be in touch with me and Teddy.’
‘From now on, all communication from me will bypass your good self and go directly to Teddy,’ replied Mr Saunders as he stowed away his papers in his briefcase. ‘Once again, my condolences for your loss. Your late husband was a very good man. Let us hope his son can be a worthy successor to his legacy. Good day to you, Lady Vaughan.’ With a deep sigh that indicated the gossip about Teddy must have spread across the neighbourhood, Mr Saunders took his leave.
Flora sat where she was, staring through the window into a garden that would no longer be under her watch. And realised that Archie, through noble intentions at the time, had as good as signed away Louise’s genuine claim through her bloodline. And despite his recent murmurings of Teddy’s unsuitability to the role of taking over High Weald as his heir, there was absolutely nothing to be done without exposing Archie’s original deception.
She was at least grateful that she had had the sense to keep the majority of her inheritance from her real father in secure investments, originally with the advice and help of Sir Ernest Cassel. In the years since, she had taken a knowledgeable interest in stocks and shares and her funds had weathered the ups and downs of the volatile financial markets well. In short, she was a wealthy woman.
And Home Farm itself was already in the process of being transferred into Rupert and Louise’s names. Archie had signed the authorisation for the transfer of deeds, ready for the young couple to move into after their wedding in August. Surely Teddy could not object to that?
Flora knew that the fact that she could even consider he might only underlined the gravity of the situation.
She sat down that night with Teddy and Louise and related the conversation she’d had with Mr Saunders. She watched Teddy’s expression carefully, and was comforted to see vestiges of both grief and relief.
‘Well, Rupert and I will be extremely happy over at Home Farm,’ Louise said brightly. ‘It’s a sweet place and I’m sure that we can make it homely.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you can,’ said Flora, loving Louise for her obliging and grateful nature. And, Flora supposed, her niece had expected nothing more, unaware of the true circumstances as she was. ‘So, Teddy, all this is to be yours.’ Flora swept a hand round the kitchen gaily. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Mother, I am only getting what is rightfully mine, am I not?’ he said with an air of entitlement.
‘Yes, but you know all too well that the High Weald estate takes a lot of work. As Mr Saunders will explain to you, there are scarce funds to maintain it. Especially the farm. You will need to employ a new farm manager,’ Flora added. ‘And some help in the house itself, what with Louise moving to her own home in the summer.’
‘You’ll be here with me to sort all that, Mother. That is, until I marry.’ Teddy smiled slyly. ‘And I may just have someone in mind.’
‘Really?’ Louise’s face lit up. ‘It would be wonderful if we both had children of a similar age who could grow up together. Wouldn’t it, Teddy darling?’
‘I’m not sure she’s the motherly type, but I’m certainly very keen on her.’
‘What a dark horse you are, Teddy. What is her name?’ asked Louise.
‘All will be revealed in time. She’s not from round here.’
‘Well, of course I shall move out as soon as you have a wife,’ Flora said. ‘I can always go to the London house temporarily until we can perhaps refurbish the dower house? It hasn’t been lived in for many years.’
‘The London house will be for my use only from now on. Perhaps when you go up to town, you could stay with your own mother in Albemarle Street? Now,’ Teddy said, checking his watch, ‘I must be off. The London train leaves in half an hour. I shall drive myself to Ashford station in Papa’s Rolls-Royce.’
‘But he hadn’t used it for years, Teddy. It eats up too much petrol and we need the coupons for the farm machinery,’ said Louise, casting a nervous glance in her mother’s direction.
‘I am sure that my estate can afford it just this once. I’ll be home in a couple of days.’ He stood up, pecked both his mother and sister on the tops of their heads and left the kitchen.
There was a stunned silence.
‘Don’t worry, Mother.’ Louise turned to her. ‘There will always be a place for you with us at Home Farm.’
In the following month, Flora steeled herself to say goodbye to High Weald, while Teddy was conspicuous by his absence, up in the London house for most of the time. Flora and Louise struggled to move on from their grief and run the estate between them. Mr Saunders had written a letter to Flora – out of diplomacy rather than need – to advise her that the transfer of the High Weald estate, the London house and the peerage into Teddy’s name was proceeding smoothly and should be finalised by November at the latest.
If Flora and Louise had thoughts on the subject of Teddy’s inheritance, neither wished to admit their doubts. And at least June brought with it a burst of fresh spirit, due to the success of the D-Day landings in France. Flora did her best to focus on Louise’s forthcoming wedding, deciding that she would present her gift to them when Rupert arrived for the weekend to discuss pre-wedding plans. She was gratified to see the delight on their faces as she told them about Arthur Morston Books.
‘Good grief!’ Rupert took out a handkerchief and wiped his eyes. ‘And there was me worrying about how I can keep your daughter in the style to which she is accustomed. Well now, you have just given me the answer. I can never thank you enough. I am . . . quite overwhelmed.’
Tears came to Flora’s own eyes as she watched the young couple – so happy and in love – embrace each other. And she knew for certain that she had done the right thing.
‘There is also a small flat above it, which can be modernised to use when you need to stay in town,’ she said. ‘Although I’m sure your brother will offer you the use of his London house.’
‘I doubt it, Mother,’ said Louise. ‘And even if he does, I think the rooms above the bookshop – whatever state they may be in – would suit us far better.’
A few days later, Flora received a telegram from Teddy:
MARRIED DIXIE AT CHELSEA REGISTRY TODAY STOP VERY HAPPY STOP OFF TO ITALY FOR HONEYMOON STOP SEE YOU SOON FOR CELEBRATIONS STOP TELL LOUISE I BEAT HER DOWN THE AISLE STOP TEDDY STOP
Louise read the telegram in silence, her face betraying everything she felt. ‘Oh dear,’ she said.
‘Do you know this girl?’
‘Not well, no. But I certainly know of her. The whole of London does. I was introduced to her briefly by Teddy at New Year.’
‘Who is she?’
‘Lady Cecilia O’Reilly. She’s Irish by birth, and from a good but rather . . . bohemian family. She is without a doubt a head-turner. Every man in the room became silly the second she walked into the Savoy on New Year’s Eve. She has waist-length red hair, and a temperament that is apparently just as fiery. Teddy was mad for her that night, and I reckon that’s why he’s been spending so much time in London lately,’ Louise added. ‘They’ll certainly make an . . . interesting couple.’
‘I see.’ Flora read between the lines of Louise’s comments and her spirits sank even further.
‘Forgive me, Mother. As you have always said to me, one must never judge a book by its cover. Or its reputation. Dixie may be regarded as “fast”, but she might also be a good person. And she’ll certainly liven up High Weald and keep Teddy on his toes.’ She smiled wanly.
That night, Flora l
ay in bed, her heart aching for the warmth and comfort of the body that used to lie next to her. As she lay back on her pillows, she began to make plans for her own future – and wondered how she could salve her guilty conscience about Louise.
A month later, the new heir to High Weald brought home his equally new bride. Contrary to her expectations, ‘Dixie’ was a young woman Flora liked immediately. With her throaty laugh – engendered, Flora was sure, by the endless strong French cigarettes she smoked – and her gorgeous milky white complexion and willowy frame, she was certainly a force to be reckoned with. She was also ferociously bright, judging by how she proceeded to tear a strip off Teddy for any disingenuous comments he made.
After a viciously alcoholic evening of celebration, where poor Louise turned to wallpaper as Dixie aired her opinions loudly on everything from the Irish situation to the war, and shared her ‘insider’ knowledge of Churchill’s depressive personality, Flora said her goodnights and walked up the stairs to bed. She was at least comforted by the fact that Archie would have appreciated his new daughter-in-law’s vivacious company.
The following day, Flora called Teddy into her study. She kissed him warmly, and bade him sit down.
Before he could begin to speak, she took the lead.
‘Congratulations, Teddy. I think Dixie is perfectly adorable. You have made a good choice and I am sure that the two of us will become firm friends. I simply wished to tell you that I am happy to pay for the necessary refurbishments to the dower house myself. And I would like to know if you are prepared to sell the two hundred acres of farmland that surrounds it to me? Being on the other side of the lane, the land also abuts Home Farm. I am prepared to take it on and farm it in your stead. I have consulted a local land agent and can offer you a fair price, which would then provide you with some funds for the upkeep of High Weald and the London house.’
‘I see.’ Teddy’s expression showed his surprise. ‘I’d have to discuss it with Dixie and my solicitor first.’
‘You do that. I shall move out of High Weald after Louise’s wedding.’
‘Of course.’
‘That is all I have to say.’
‘Right.’ Teddy stood up. ‘Please feel free to take anything you wish from the house.’
‘My needs are few, and I am very good at starting again. All I will say is that you have been handed a beautiful legacy. High Weald is a very special place and I hope that you and Dixie treasure it as your father and I have done.’
And before Flora burst into tears, she swept from the room.
On a sweltering August day, Flora watched Louise marry Rupert Forbes in the church where she had so recently buried her husband. As she prayed for the couple, she could only beg the higher powers to bring the peace that had been promised so often. Both in her own life and the world.
In late autumn, Flora wandered around High Weald, feeling ridiculous for saying goodbye to a house that she knew she would visit many times in the future, but would no longer be hers. But then, she thought sadly, it never had been, as it had never been anybody’s. It simply belonged to itself, as old houses did. And it would stand into the future, long after the present incumbents were dead.
She looked through the kitchen window at the walled garden, remembering the many happy times she and Archie had shared there.
‘Moments of happiness . . .’ Flora quoted to herself. Nothing lasted forever, she mused, even though human beings expected it to. All one could do was to enjoy the moments while they could.
The pony and trap stood outside, piled high with her most precious possessions. She let herself out through the front door and climbed up onto it.
‘Goodbye . . .’ She blew High Weald – and Archie and all the memories – a kiss. Then she turned her head away and, taking a moment to forgive herself for all the mistakes she had made, gave the pony a light tap on its flanks and rode off down the drive into another new future.
Star
November 2007
Rosa x centifolia (cabbage rose – Rosaceae family)
40
The chimes of the grandfather clock brought me out of the past with a jolt. I looked at my watch and saw it was four in the morning. Opposite me, Orlando’s eyes were closed, and he looked grey with exhaustion. I tried to focus on all he had told me, but I knew I needed sleep before I could make sense of it.
‘Orlando?’ I whispered, not wishing to startle him. ‘It’s time for bed.’
His eyes shot open, looking glazed. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘We shall discuss what I have told you on the morrow.’ He stood up and staggered to the doorway like a man drugged, then turned and looked back at me. ‘You do see why I thought it best to keep these away from my brother, don’t you? He was so very bitter. And knowing for certain that our side of the family had been cheated out of High Weald could only have made him feel worse.’
‘I think so.’ I indicated the journals. ‘Shall I put them away somewhere?’
‘Take them with you. My paltry attempt at recounting such a complex story has only given you the bare bones. Those can fill in the detail. Goodnight, Miss Star.’
‘But I still don’t understand why this story is relevant to me?’
‘Good grief,’ he said, eyeing me speculatively. ‘I am surprised. I would have thought that your able mind would have deduced exactly how. Tomorrow.’ He waved his hand at me and left the room.
It was past eleven the next morning before Orlando appeared in the kitchen.
‘Today, I feel every one of my thirty-six years, plus another two score and ten,’ he said as he sat down heavily in a chair.
I too was weary, having spent what was left of the night tossing and turning. Managing to fall asleep only half an hour before my alarm went off, I was up at seven to make Rory breakfast and drive him to school.
‘How about brunch? Eggs Benedict and smoked salmon?’ I suggested to Orlando.
‘I can think of nothing more perfect. We can pretend we are at the Algonquin Hotel in New York, having tipped up there from a speakeasy where we have danced until dawn. And how are you today, Miss Star?’
‘Thoughtful,’ I replied truthfully, as I prepared the eggs.
‘I am sure that feeding the digestion will ease the ingestion of facts.’
‘What I don’t understand is why Mouse gave me the impression that Flora MacNichol was a devious person. I think she was rather wonderful.’
‘I agree entirely. If it hadn’t been for her injection of funds to restore the house and gardens after Great-grandmother Aurelia died, not to mention the work she herself put in by restoring and then steering the estate through the Second World War, no Vaughans or Forbes would be resident today. She also left the farmland she had purchased from Teddy to Louise and Rupert on her death. That land generates the main income for Home Farm today.’
‘She did her best to make amends to Louise,’ I mused.
‘Yes, and how. During the difficult post-war years, my father said Flora held the family together. She did the accounts for Arthur Morston Books, and was there to help Dixie bring up her son, Michael, and assist in the running of High Weald. As you can imagine, Teddy wasn’t much use in either role. She lived a long and fulfilled life.’
‘How old was she when she died?’
‘She was in her late seventies. My father told me that she was found sitting under the rose arbour in the afternoon sun.’
‘I’m glad her later years were happy. She’d earned it. How could Mouse feel it was she who was to blame for all of it? After all, it was Archie’s decision to register Teddy as Louise’s twin on the birth certificates.’
‘And out of understandable altruistic reasons,’ Orlando added. ‘In his own way, he was honouring all those who had died around him in the war. Please remember that Mouse only heard the bare bones of the story from our father when he flew to see him in Greece before he died. He came home distraught – if you remember, I told you our father died only two years after Annie. And that was when I removed the rele
vant journals to the bookshop. The worst thing, I felt, was for Mouse to wallow even further in the past.’
‘He felt he’d been cheated out of everything,’ I murmured. ‘His wife, his father and his rightful inheritance.’
‘Yes. Depression is a terrible thing, Miss Star,’ Orlando sighed. ‘And at least one affliction I don’t seem to have been blighted with.’
‘Perhaps he should read them, Orlando, and discover what really happened. I feel it was Flora herself who lost the most.’
‘Agreed, although it is a crying shame the estate wasn’t passed to Grandmother Louise in trust, waiting on any children she may have had in the future – namely, our father, Laurence. And Rupert, my grandfather, was a smashing fellow.’
‘Maybe love for a child blinds us all.’
‘In many cases, yes,’ Orlando agreed. ‘Flora was a sensible and pragmatic woman. She knew that Archie, and subsequently she herself, had been culpable in the lie concerning Teddy’s birthright. He had been brought up to believe he was the natural heir. Hardly his fault, after all. If she had tried to deny him the inheritance, chances were she would have lost him forever to the fleshpots of London, spending the rest of his life indulging in wine, women and song. Which, from what her journals recount, he did anyway at High Weald. It was his wife Dixie who saved the day. She gave birth to Marguerite’s father, Michael, and kept the estate going while Teddy drank himself to death. It strikes me that High Weald has always been saved by generations of strong females.’
‘And now, Rory will inherit the title and the estate through Marguerite,’ I added as I placed the breakfast on the table and sat down.
Orlando picked up his knife and fork, and began to eat. ‘Ah, the perfect restorative. Personally, I am overjoyed that Lady Flora bequeathed the bookshop to Rupert and Louise. He managed it carefully through the bleak post-war years and I was eventually handed down a wonderful legacy. Mouse tells me the property is almost certainly more valuable than what is left of High Weald.’
The Shadow Sister Page 44
