The Cavendon Women

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  As for Mark Stanton, he no doubt wanted to speak to her about Lavinia. She couldn’t help wondering how serious that relationship was. And she was curious, too, about Howard Pinkerton’s visit later in the afternoon, eager to know what he had found out.

  Glancing around the room, she was pleased to see that her housekeeper had a fire blazing in the hearth and had put fresh flowers in the vases. The parlor was her favorite room. It had a handsome Georgian desk, overflowing bookshelves, and comfortable overstuffed sofas and chairs. A mellow room, with its antique pieces set against deep rose walls; this was the most predominant color, repeated in the heavy brocade draperies at the tall windows, and in the fabrics used for the sofas and chairs.

  Since it was a gloomy, overcast day, Lady Gwendolyn went around turning on the pale pink silk-shaded lamps, and then sat down to wait for Dulcie, who was usually on time. As the carriage clock on the mantelpiece struck ten, the doorbell was ringing.

  A few moments later Dulcie came rushing into the parlor, a huge smile on her face. “Good morning, Great-Aunt Gwendolyn!” she cried, kissing her aunt on the cheek.

  “Hello, my dear. The parlor is very cozy on this dull morning. In a moment Mrs. Fontaine will bring us tea. Or would you prefer coffee?”

  “Tea is fine, thank you,” Dulcie answered. She sat down on the opposite sofa, and said, “I came to test the waters with you, Great-Aunt Gwendolyn. Before I speak to Papa. I don’t want to go romping around on a project of mine, and then find out I’ve blundered into a bog like a blind bull, and am sinking fast.”

  Lady Gwendolyn shook her head. “My goodness, Dulcie, your language does get colorful at times. So what is it you wish to discuss? A project, you said.”

  Leaning forward, clasping her hands together, Dulcie fastened her eyes on her great-aunt, and said, “I will be finished with my art history course at the end of November, and I know what I would like to do. But I wanted to pass it by you first, because Daphne said you wouldn’t approve. Which means Papa might not either.”

  “And what do you wish to do, my dear?”

  “I want to open a shop. Oh, dash, I shouldn’t call it that, Cecily said. Let me correct myself. I want to open an art gallery. What do you think?”

  “Cecily’s correct, it is certainly better to call it that. A ‘shop’ resonates of tradespeople, don’t you think?”

  “I do now.”

  Lady Gwendolyn was about to say she thought Dulcie was a bit young to start a business, then instantly changed her mind. Telling an Ingham they were too young to do something was always a mistake. They were headstrong. Anyway, Dulcie would be nineteen soon. She said, “Do you have a business partner? Someone who will run this gallery with you?”

  “I have a financial partner, and that’s Ceci. She’s putting up a good deal of money, and will advise me.”

  “That’s very admirable of her. And she does have a good head on her shoulders. She must believe you can pull this off.”

  “I can. But I need your help with Papa. You see, I think he will object to another aspect of my project.”

  “What is that?”

  “I want to sell a lot of the paintings, antiques, and objects of art stored in the attics of Cavendon Hall and the Grosvenor Square house. It would all be my inventory.”

  “Good Lord, Dulcie, that’s rather a startling proposition! I don’t know how to answer you. I can’t second-guess Charles.” She paused, shook her head. “I have a feeling he won’t allow you to do that.”

  “I believe it’s economically impractical to store all those things nobody uses or needs, when they could be sold. I would like to support myself, but I also want to help Daphne. She works hard at keeping Cavendon afloat.”

  “I know, and I also realize what a great help Hugo is, and Paul Drummond. Also, Miles is learning fast, and he is helping to put the estate on a good footing.”

  “Cecily told me Cavendon should be run as a business, and not as a family home only.” Dulcie sat back, waiting for the explosion.

  Lady Gwendolyn did look startled, and exclaimed, “What on earth does she mean? It is a family home. Ours.”

  “Yes, and she doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be that. However, she thinks Cavendon should earn its keep.”

  “How? What else did she say?”

  “To answer your first question, she thinks my gallery would be a good start, getting rid of all the things stored away. Now, here’s another thing. She’s heard that some aristocratic families are thinking about opening their stately homes to the public. You know, inviting people to tour the house, and charging an entrance fee—” Dulcie stopped abruptly when she saw the shock sweeping across her aunt’s face.

  After a moment, Lady Gwendolyn said in a somewhat tremulous voice, “Have the public tramp around Cavendon Hall? That’s outrageous, Dulcie! And what if they steal something?”

  “They can’t very well carry out a Hepplewhite table, now can they?” was Dulcie’s rapid response.

  “There are all sorts of small objects of value around on tabletops, like the Fabergé collection of snuffboxes, things like that,” Lady Gwendolyn pointed out, sounding anxious. Her face had paled and her hands were clasped tightly.

  “Yes, I know, and we did talk about that. Cecily said certain areas, mostly the rooms where the family actually live, should be closed off. And other more general areas could be roped off, but made easy to view. We have so many treasures, I think other people would enjoy seeing them. Learning about our history, the history of Cavendon.”

  “I understand. Still, I’m afraid you’ll have to let me get used to the idea of having strangers roaming around Cavendon Hall and Cavendon Park. It’s rather a lot to take in, Dulcie.”

  “I know. However, Cecily suggested that the public must be accompanied by a guide, a person to explain the house, talk about the paintings, the family portraits by such famous artists as Gainsborough, Lely, and others. They would be led on a guided tour.”

  Dulcie paused for a moment, finally finished. “I know it’s shocked you, Great-Aunt. But I do think we have to look ahead, to the future. In the coming years there will be death duties, and other taxes, as well as the cost of upkeep and repairs to the house.”

  Lady Gwendolyn sighed, knowing that Dulcie spoke the truth. She endeavored to adjust her mind to the thought of allowing the public to come into Cavendon. The rooms where Charles and his family lived were sacrosanct, private. Yet deep down, she was genuinely convinced that Cecily Swann was the most brilliant woman she had ever known. Her extraordinary talent and successful business proved that.

  After a moment, Lady Gwendolyn broke the silence. “Let me think about this suggestion, Dulcie. Perhaps then I can help you with your father. First, you must win Charlotte over to your side. She has the greatest influence with him, and always has.”

  “So you do think it’s a good idea?” Dulcie raised a blond brow questioningly.

  “Perhaps. But I must adjust to it. And certainly your father will have to be convinced. By the way, what about strangers wandering in the park?”

  “Cecily thought of that, too. She said we would have to use some of the outdoor workers as sort of … wardens. That’s what she called them. She said they would have to wear a uniform, and a badge that said ‘Cavendon Hall’ on it. She also told me of an idea Harry had. I think that’s brilliant too.”

  Lady Gwendolyn’s ears pricked up when she heard the name of her favorite. “What is Harry’s idea?” she asked, sitting up straighter.

  “As you well know, we have a carpentry shop at Cavendon. They make many things, such as tubs for plants and flowers, garden seats, buckets for logs, and a variety of smaller things. Harry thought people might want to order some of those items. If there was a shop selling them.” Dulcie smiled. “Harry is awfully clever, don’t you think, Great-Aunt Gwendolyn?”

  “He is, and he’s a truly talented gardener. I miss him,” Lady Gwendolyn said. “So it would be an actual shop? On the grounds?”

  “I’m
not sure. Cecily said orders could be taken and the work fulfilled by their uncle, Ted Swann, who is head of carpentry and maintenance at Cavendon, as you know. Say something, Great-Aunt, you’re looking shell-shocked again.”

  “Not so much shocked as impressed. As the saying goes around here, ‘Whatever would the Inghams do without the Swanns?’ Let’s face it, they’re invaluable.”

  Dulcie noticed that this had been said in a more lighthearted way, and she felt certain her great-aunt would in the end be her ally. She prayed she would. Now she said, “Oh, and by the way, Cecily has agreed to let me work at the main shop in the Burlington Arcade. Just to learn the ropes, and also to understand what it’s like to deal with the public. I hope that doesn’t upset you, Great-Aunt Gwen?”

  “On the contrary, I think it is quite remarkable, laudable on your part, Dulcie. Your devotion to Cavendon and its future is most impressive.”

  Lady Gwendolyn rose, went to sit next to her great-niece, and took hold of her hand. “I am very proud of you, and your initiative. Ingham women before you, and before me, actually, have always stood tall. As you do in my eyes today. As for Cecily Swann, I shall telephone her myself and thank her personally for her immense loyalty to this family.”

  “Thank you for those lovely words,” Dulcie murmured, leaning closer, kissing her aunt’s cheek. “Ceci will be so happy. She loves you too.”

  * * *

  A short while later, Mrs. Fontaine brought in the tea tray, and departed. Lady Gwendolyn liked to pour the tea herself, and did so now, then said, “Mark Stanton’s coming to see me in a short while, and I’ve not an inkling why. Have you heard anything about Lavinia? Or them? On our grapevine.”

  “No, nothing. But she got cut off by us. You know that. She was sent to Coventry. Because of the way she spoke about Charlotte. Everyone was furious with her. She’s no longer a member of the inner circle.”

  “But she’s not cut out of the family,” Lady Gwendolyn asserted.

  “That’s true. On the other hand, perhaps she decided she’s better off without us.”

  Thirty-three

  Lady Gwendolyn was full of admiration for Dulcie, and impressed with her determination to work, and help Cavendon in doing so. Her great-niece had also given her a lot to consider, and on a very serious level.

  She sat in front of the fire, thinking about a number of matters, including her will and the attics at Little Skell Manor in Cavendon Park, where she lived. They were full of discarded items, all valuable, that could be sold. She would have them sorted when she was next in Yorkshire. Something told her Dulcie would indeed have her art gallery, and in the not-too-distant future.

  Standing up, she went over to the Georgian desk, sat down and took out her notebook, jotted in it a few important things she had to do.

  Lady Gwendolyn now knew she must change her will, and to do so she must go and see her solicitor next week. She must also telephone Charlotte in Zurich to ask about their return to England. When they were coming home. And she must visit Cecily at her Burlington Arcade shop, not only to thank her personally for giving good advice to Dulcie, but to buy the Kimono Set she had so admired on Daphne. Cecily would tell her the truth … whether it suited her or not. Ceci Swann. True blue. She would trust Cecily with her life.

  A moment later the doorbell was ringing, which told her that Mark Stanton had arrived. Mrs. Fontaine brought him into the parlor just as Lady Gwendolyn was walking across the room to greet him.

  After shaking hands, she asked him if he would like any refreshments; he thanked her and said he would not.

  “Let’s go and sit in here, by the fire,” Lady Gwendolyn suggested, smiling at him. She liked Mark, and always had; he reminded her of Hugo, not only in appearance but in his manner. She had watched the cousins growing up together as young boys.

  “It’s a good day for a fire, Lady Gwendolyn,” Mark said. “Very gloomy outside, and I’m afraid it’s going to rain later.”

  The two of them sat down on the sofas facing each other. Mark began to speak immediately, knowing that Lady Gwendolyn liked to get right to the heart of a matter, and at once. He said, “You must have guessed I’ve come about Lavinia.”

  “Yes,” Lady Gwendolyn answered. “I haven’t seen her since the wedding in July. How is she?”

  “Doing quite well, actually. My reason for being here is because I would like your advice. Also, I want you to intervene in a particular situation. So it’s twofold.”

  “I will do anything I can to help you, Mark; I have been very fond of you for years. And of course, I love Lavinia. Please tell me what’s on your mind. I must admit, you do look worried, and a little weary, if I might add.”

  Mark nodded, settling back against the sofa. He said quietly, “I want you to know that I have been in love with Lavinia for years. But she was married to Jack, and there was no way I would approach a woman with a husband, however much I cared about her. Not my style.”

  “So you loved her in silence, and she never noticed you. Am I right?” Lady Gwendolyn gave him a speculative look.

  Surprised by her words, Mark exclaimed, “How did you know that?”

  “I just made a guess. That’s often the way it is in life. Someone can love from afar, hoping and praying the object of their desire might one day notice them, and see it all very clearly.”

  “It was something like that. And then Jack died. I don’t wish anybody ill, and I was sorry he had passed away. He was a nice man, very entertaining. Anyway, as much as I loved her I believed it would be inappropriate to make any kind of approach. Lavinia was in mourning. So I just got on with work, hoping.”

  “I understand,” Lady Gwendolyn murmured. “Do go on.”

  “It was at the wedding in July that I finally decided the time was right. I saw her standing alone, admiring the indoor garden which Harry Swann had made, and I just took my courage in both hands and went over to her. She seemed happy to see me, to talk to me. We spent the evening together. And I knew I was going to pursue her, no matter what. No one, nothing was going to stop me now. And so I did do precisely that.”

  Lady Gwendolyn studied him for a few seconds. “That night she understood, and succumbed to you?”

  Mark shook his head. “Not exactly. But she realized how much I loved her, because I told her everything. My yearning for her over the years, the longing I felt whenever I saw her. And how I couldn’t stay away from Cavendon when Hugo invited me and I knew she would be there. I told her that was why I’d never married. I love her with all my heart, you see.”

  Lady Gwendolyn believed him, recognized his passion and sincerity. “Does Lavinia love you, Mark?”

  “Yes, she does. The problem is she won’t marry me. And it’s destroying me. I want to live with her, take care of her, provide for her. But she won’t say yes, won’t give in.”

  “That’s extremely odd, if she cares about you.” Lady Gwendolyn scowled, puzzlement in her eyes. Throwing Mark a keener look, she asked, “You want me to advise you. But perhaps you think I can persuade her to marry you? That’s what you really mean. Why is that?”

  “Because she respects you. She will listen to you.”

  Lady Gwendolyn shook her head. “I simply don’t understand what’s holding her back. Why won’t she agree to become your wife?”

  Mark took a deep breath. “She doesn’t want anyone in the family to know this, but she is ill, Lady Gwen, very ill. She says she doesn’t want to be a burden to me.”

  “I knew it!” Lady Gwendolyn exclaimed, her chest tightening. “I just knew it, Mark, at Charles’s wedding. She didn’t look well. Lavinia seemed so drained, and I asked her if she was all right, but she kept saying she was, that she was just tired. I felt instinctively that she was poorly. Oh why didn’t I pay more attention?” Tears glistened in Lady Gwendolyn’s eyes.

  “It wouldn’t have done any good; she’s very stubborn and awfully independent.”

  “It’s serious, isn’t it?” Lady Gwendolyn’s voice trembled
as she spoke.

  He nodded. “She has a tumor in her lung. It’s small. The cancer was caught in the early stages. I found her the best specialists, the best doctors in the world. And the finest treatment. I’m hoping she will get better. I pray for her. But what do you think I should do?”

  “I don’t know. However, do you want me to see her? Is she in hospital? Or at home?”

  “Not in hospital now, although she has been. She’s at home. And actually she’s looking so much better.” He leaned forward, focused on her. “Even if Lavinia has only a year or two left, I want to be with her—”

  His voice broke and he cut off his sentence. Sitting up, he blinked and took control of himself. “I love her so much, you see.”

  “And she’s very lucky that you do, Mark. I will make a great attempt to get you both to the altar.” Her smile was a little quavery, but she took herself in hand, pushed back her flaring emotions. She said, “What else did you wish me to do? You said it was twofold?”

  “I want you to talk to the family. It’s broken her heart that they sent her to Coventry, cut her out of the inner family circle. She did apologize to everyone at the time, and tried hard to make amends. But it didn’t work. Please, Lady Gwendolyn, you are the matriarch of this family. Tell them they must allow her to come back. She does not have all that long left on this planet. It would be so cruel to keep her at arm’s length as they’ve been doing.”

  “It would, most especially under the circumstances. I will talk to them, I promise. If necessary, I will telephone Charles in Zurich. I will speak to Daphne tomorrow, and she rules the roost, so to speak, at the moment, with her father away.”

  “Thank you so very much, Lady Gwendolyn. I can’t tell you how relieved I am that I confided in you.”

  “There’s just one thing, Mark,” Lady Gwendolyn said, shaking her head, letting out a small sigh. “I will have to tell them she’s ill, you know. Otherwise, they may not agree to forgive her and bring her back.”