“Should you like to play cards, Miss Beacher?” Miss Milburn said. “We may all play vingt-et-un, or you and Mr Leatham might play piquet or backgammon, if you wish.”
“Thank you, but I never play games of chance,” Mildred said.
“Oh… but piquet and backgammon are more skill than chance, I should have thought. What about chess or—?”
“Thank you, but I have no wish to play any game.”
“Of course. Then let us sit over here and you can tell me something about yourself, Miss Beacher.”
“Thank you, but I usually spend Saturday evening reflecting upon the text for tomorrow’s services. I have my Prayer Book with me, as you see. Do not let me keep you from Charles’s company. I can see how eager he is to draw you into some amusement or other. I should not wish to interfere with his pleasure, I am sure.”
So saying, she snapped open her Prayer Book, and commenced to read.
“What is it to be, Mr Leatham?” Miss Milburn said.
“Piquet,” he said at once, “although I have a strong suspicion that I would be best advised not to play for money, not against you.”
“I thank you for the compliment, but you are safe from me. We usually play for buttons here,” she said with a smile. “Let me fetch the bag.”
And so they played piquet for buttons, and he was right to be cautious, for she won handily, by more than one hundred buttons. Somehow, he did not mind at all, and as the carriage rattled homeward shortly before midnight, he reflected that the evening had not been half so dull as he had feared.
~~~~~
The day of Dowager Lady Elland’s birthday party was drawing near. Mrs Leatham had warned the sisters to wear their best for the occasion, in compliment to the old lady, and this had caused some flutterings of alarm at Bursham Cottage. Caroline had her Valmont outfit, and Poppy was content to wear an old summer gown of Lin’s with a newly refurbished bonnet, but Lin would not be satisfied until Mama’s box had been raided and an entirely new, and highly fashionable, outfit created.
“I am an engaged woman now, so I must be more particular in my choice of clothing,” she said, her chin lifting defiantly. “I must not bring discredit to my future husband.”
“You’re not married yet, Lin,” Caroline said. “You should still look… maidenly. This fabric will make you look as grand as Mrs Leatham.”
But there was no convincing Lin and so the gown was made, complete with matching bonnet and a Tyrolese cloak derived from a fashion magazine, although Caroline refused absolutely to trim the cloak with lace.
The day appointed for the Dowager Lady Elland’s birthday party dawned fair and warm, and by the time they set off it was becoming very hot. They walked slowly up the long drive to Corranwater, trying to keep to the shade of the trees and being periodically coated in dust as the carriages of grander attendees bowled merrily past them. One carriage stopped, and Mrs Leatham’s befeathered head peered out.
“Good day to you, Miss Milburn, Miss Elinor, Miss Penelope! We have room to take up one of you, if you should care to ride with us. Miss Milburn? Will you join us? Charles will make room on the seat for you.”
Before Caroline could answer, Mr Charles Leatham’s head appeared and the carriage door opened.
“I have a better idea,” he said, with a grin. “I shall walk alongside Miss Milburn, and that way the younger Miss Milburns may both ride. Is that not a clever scheme?”
His mother agreed that it was, and as Lin and Poppy scrambled directly into the carriage without further ado, Caroline had no option but to acquiesce with as much grace as she could muster.
“There!” Mr Leatham said smugly. “Now I may discuss with you a passage I encountered this morning. It is in the chapter entitled ‘Knowledge of the World’, and it reads… wait a moment, for I have it written down, in the hope of being able to talk privily to you. Here it is. ‘Observe the operations of your own mind, and you may, in a great measure, read all mankind.’ Do you think that is so? For it seems to me…”
He talked for the rest of the way, and Caroline had very little to do except to listen or to say ‘Very true’ from time to time. They came eventually to the house, and were admitted and led right through it and out again into the garden. In the midst of the parterre was a stone pavilion constructed in the Roman style, with many pillars and a domed roof. There, on a large, ornate chair, sat the dowager, smiling serenely like a queen enthroned. She wore an exquisitely embroidered brocade, a fabric of the last century, but in the style of the present one, and a wig of incongruously dark curls. To one side, as if he were a courtier, stood Lord Elland. To the other side, the two sons, wreathed in smiles as they bowed and bowed again to new arrivals. Behind the dowager’s chair, his face inscrutable, stood her personal footman, Lucien.
As they entered the pavilion, the butler announced them formally. Caroline made her curtsy and expressed her congratulations, and the old lady smiled and nodded. Then she reached into a box brought forward by the footman.
“En fête, je vous fais un cadeau,” she said. Then she reached for Caroline’s hand and placed something into it.
With a shock that rendered her speechless, Caroline recognised it. The gift was a netted purse, with a very distinctive tassel. It was exactly like the ones found at the cottage, holding five hundred pounds apiece.
18: A Birthday Party (August)
Caroline froze, staring uncomprehendingly at the purse in her hand. It was not exactly the same as any of the ones they had found, for they were all different in colour and pattern, but it was indubitably made by the same hand.
A nudge under her elbow brought her back to awareness.
“Shall we move on?” Mr Leatham murmured. “We are holding up the line.”
Caroline bobbed a hasty curtsy to the dowager, nodded to Lord Elland, who was watching her quizzically, and allowed Mr Leatham to steer her out of the pavilion, across the parterre and into a much larger canvas pavilion where somebody thrust a glass of white wine into her hand. Then out of the pavilion into the blazing sun again, and onward to the shade of a massive fir tree, where Lin and Poppy came dashing towards them.
“Did you get one too?” Lin said. “She makes them all the time, apparently, in different colours and patterns. Then she gives them away on her birthday. There must be hundreds of them all over the county.”
“Yes, of course,” Caroline said, feeling stupid. “It doesn’t mean anything, because everyone for miles around will have several of them.”
“Exactly!” Lin said. “Although at first I was astonished, just like you. I think—” She stopped abruptly, throwing Mr Leatham a quick glance.
Caroline understood. “We can talk about it later.” She gulped at her drink, and almost choked. Spluttering, she said, “Whatever is this?”
“Champagne,” Mr Leatham said. “Try not to drink it too quickly. It is so hot today that lemonade would be more appropriate, but Aimée, Lady Elland insists on champagne, and Heaven only knows how Lord Elland got hold of it, or what he had to pay for it.”
“Will there be anything to eat?” Lin said.
“Later,” he said. “Once everyone is here, there will be a special cake, and then the footmen will move about with platters of those tiny pastry things and little balls of something or other. Very tasty but not exactly filling, unless one is so ill-mannered as to scoop them up four at a time. After that, there are games on the lawn, and finally, ice cream.”
“I have never had ice cream,” Poppy said wistfully. “It sounds wonderful, and I am so hot.”
“I’m thirsty, too,” Lin said. “Let’s go and get another drink.”
~~~~~
The two ran off, and Charles found himself left alone with Miss Milburn. Gazing determinedly into the distance, he said, “I have no wish to pry, Miss Milburn, but if ever you want to talk about the purses that do not mean anything, you may be sure that I will give the matter my full attention. I see my step-mother waving at us. Shall we go and brave Mildred’s d
isapproval?”
“Does Miss Beacher disapprove of you? Or of me, perhaps?”
“Mildred disapproves of everyone and everything,” he said. “It is very lowering to know that one will never, ever meet her exacting standards. She herself is perfect, so the rest of us must necessarily fall short.”
“No one is perfect,” Miss Milburn said. “I am sure Miss Beacher herself makes no such claim.”
“She does not, but she is such a very good person.”
“Is she?” Miss Milburn said. “I bow to your superior knowledge of her, but I’d have said myself that she’s a sanctimonious prig.”
He burst out laughing. “She is, of course, but then Ben was, too, so they were well suited. She would have made an excellent parson’s wife, harrying the parishioners into harmony and plenty, or at least into silence, for it is impossible to disagree with her without appearing childish or unChristian. Lord, who are those two frights on the arms of the Alsager brothers?”
She turned to look, and laughed. “How uncharitable you are! I imagine those are they ladies they are to wed.”
“Oh, excellent. I could not have wished for more suitable matches for them.”
“Do you dislike them so much?”
“I do, because they have all the social graces that I so patently lack. If I had but a tenth of their charm, I should resent them far less, I assure you.”
“You have your own charms, I am sure, Mr Leatham,” she said. “Imagine how tiring it would be to live with all that… that bounciness. And as for the matching curricles, one with black horses and one with white… words fail me. Do you have a curricle, Mr Leatham?”
“If I lived in town, perhaps I might, but on country roads a horse is more sensible.”
“How very prosaic of you,” she murmured. “I do not think you can avoid Miss Beacher any longer. She is coming this way. You will excuse me, Mr Leatham. I must find my sisters.”
Charles watched her go with some regret. Miss Milburn could be tolerable company sometimes, when she was not provoking him. Better company, at all events, than Mildred. He looked at his step-mother, champagne glass in hand, and Mildred, whose hands were empty, and sighed inwardly. Forcing a smile, he said, “Are you enjoying yourselves?”
His step-mother patted his arm. “Oh, indeed, never was there such a charmingly arranged celebration, and the weather so much kinder than last year. You will not believe it, Charles, but it rained all day last year, and not merely a fine drizzle, such as one does not much mind, but that heavy, drenching type of rain, where one is soaked through instantly. There were umbrellas, of course, but that never keeps one entirely dry, does it? So we huddled in the pavilion and told each other how much we were enjoying the occasion. Such a shame, to have so much rain.”
“It was the Sabbath,” Mildred said. “God disapproves of frivolity on the Sabbath.”
“Oh, indeed, but one must celebrate a birthday on the proper day,” Mrs Leatham said. “We had all been to church beforehand, so I do not quite see… but still, I am sure you are right, Mildred dear.”
“Excuse me, I must just have a word with Mr Christopher about his text for next Sunday.” She dipped a curtsy and strode away.
Mrs Leatham sighed. “She is helping him with his sermons now,” she said. “Poor man!”
“She likes to be useful,” Mr Leatham murmured.
“True, but she is very wearing,” Mrs Leatham said. “I wish we could find her a husband. Oh, not you, dear, for you would suit her no better than poor Alfred would have done.”
“Why ever did he offer for her?” Mr Leatham said. “I never understood that. With Ben, one could see the reasoning, for they were of like mind, but Alfred was no more suited to Mildred than I would be.”
“You are quite right.” She sighed again, more heavily. “Yet you must appreciate the position we were in. Your father had three sons, and there was not the least concern for the succession, for Ben was on the brink of matrimony, he had finally obtained a good living and Mildred would give him sons. The inheritance was secure, and Alfred could have taken his time to look about him for a wife. But then Ben died so suddenly, and you were away in the army and — forgive the indelicacy in mentioning such a thing, Charles, but there was no guarantee that you would survive. Indeed, we were in hourly expectation of receiving the news of your death. All depended on Alfred, and you know what he was like — all heart. He saw Mildred in distress, he saw his duty and he saw a way to relieve both. It was a generous act, but they were so different. He would not have been happy with her, any more than you would, and that is why I do not press you with regard to Mildred.”
“It would do no good,” he said. “It matters nothing to me whom I marry, except for Mildred. She is a very good sort of person and I wish her well with all my heart, but I shall never make her my wife, for I should surely murder her, or else kill myself. I wonder sometimes if Alfred—”
“Hush! It was a fever that killed him, both the physicians said so, and the coroner agreed. Poor, poor Alfred. My poor, dear boy!”
“I beg your pardon, Mama,” he said gently, passing her a handkerchief for her tears. “It was a foolish thing to say. Naturally there is no question of… of anything other than the fever.”
“No, indeed! A dreadful thing to suppose, and so cruel to poor Mildred. Alfred never wavered in his resolution to marry her, not for a moment. Poor girl! What a dreadful time of it she has had! She is not, perhaps, the most comfortable companion, but one must be kind to her, after all she has been through. We owe her that.” She blew her nose. “Thank you for the handkerchief. When one cries, a man’s handkerchief is so much better fitted for the purpose than the little scrap of lace we ladies are supposed to carry. You are such a comfort to me, Charles, and you seem to be getting along so well with Miss Milburn now. Is there…? Are you…?”
His answer was cautious. “I believe that her opinion of me is somewhat improved.”
“There now! That is excellent progress, and she is to come to Narfield Lodge with us, I understand, so you will have the opportunity to improve her opinion of you even more.” She laughed merrily. “We might even have you married by Michaelmas.”
Charles saw no reason to disabuse her of the notion that he might yet marry Miss Milburn. Narfield Lodge would bring him within the orbit of a selection of suitable young ladies, and he could go about his courtship unhampered by his step-mother if she believed him already well along the road to matrimony. It was very satisfactory.
~~~~~
Caroline would have liked to walk down to the end of the reflecting pool and admire the fountain, but she felt she ought to stay close to Lin and Poppy. Lin, perhaps, no longer needed watching, for she would soon be a married woman, but Poppy was barely sixteen, and unused to company. So she abandoned the surprising champagne which got up her nose, handing her glass to a footman, and meandered about here and there, talking to this one and that one, but never straying far from her younger sister. She watched her talking to the Christophers, champagne glass waving about. She watched her grab another glass from a passing footman, only to spill half of it almost at once. She watched her say something to Lady Elland, who gave her a tight smile and moved away. And she saw the exact moment when the excitement caught up with her, and she went pale, swaying ominously.
Caroline was there in three quick strides. “Poppy? Do you want to sit down?”
“So hot, Caro. So… so…”
“Shade, that’s what you need. A little sit down in the shade, under that tree there, where Mrs Leatham is. Come along.” Taking her arm, she gently steered Poppy towards the tree, handing the now empty glass to a passing footman. “Almost there now. Just a few more steps.”
Poppy stopped, swayed and then collapsed in a heap. Caroline was able to break her fall, but Poppy lay in a swoon on the lawn, her face as white as her gown.
“Stand aside, Miss Milburn.” Mr Leatham loomed over them, his voice commanding. “Let us move her under the tree for now, shall we?�
��
Without further ado, he scooped Poppy into his arms and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. A few quick steps brought them beneath the spreading branches of the tree, where he gently laid down his burden.
“May I remove her bonnet?”
Caroline nodded, and with deft fingers he unfastened the ribbons, lifted her head and slid the bonnet off. “Your shawl, Miss Milburn, if you please. Can you bundle it up into a pillow? Good, good. There, now she will be comfortable. Where is Mama? Ah, there you are… your smelling salts, if you please.” She already had the vial in her hand, passing it to him without a word. He waved it under Poppy’s nose, and at once she coughed and moved her head.
“Oh, thank God!” Caroline cried.
Mr Leatham turned to her with a little smile. “She will do very well, Miss Milburn, never fear. It is only the heat, and perhaps the champagne also. The only danger with a swoon of this nature is that a lady may hit her head as she falls, and your quick thinking prevented that. Have you a fan with you? That would help.” He looked round at the little crowd which had begun to gather, as crowds always do when there is some spectacle to be observed and talked about. “Where is a footman? Hoy! You there! Bring water, will you!”
“Monsieur?”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake! De l’eau! Vite, vite!”
“Oui, monsieur. Immediatement.”
“Damned Frenchy!” he muttered under his breath. “He has been here long enough, you would think he would understand a civilised language by now.” Then, in his usual voice, he went on, “Well done, Miss Milburn. Your fanning is having some effect. It is bringing a little colour to her cheeks.”
Gradually, Poppy began to come round, although she was very confused at first to find herself lying on the ground with Mr Leatham bending over her. Caroline was able to reassure her, while Mr Leatham gave orders to servants and onlookers alike, moving the assembled crowd further back to give Caroline room to bathe Poppy’s face with the cool water Lucien eventually brought. Lin arrived, and immediately elbowed Caroline aside to take over the position of senior nurse.
The Lacemaker (Silver Linings Mysteries Book 2) Page 19
