Cavendon Hall Part 27

Peggy nodded, and after a moment's hesitation, she said slowly, "There's just one other thing, m'lady. Now that she's left to go to another job, I can tell you that Mary Ince was once surprised by a man. He jumped out of the bushes and tried to grab her. But she was quick, and ran. He ran after her, but the minute she left the bluebell woods he stopped chasing her."

Daphne was now genuinely alarmed by these stories, but she kept her expression neutral when she said, "I shall definitely confide in Miss Charlotte. She will know the best thing to do."

"Will you keep us out of it, m'lady?" Peggy asked nervously.

"I will have to tell her about you and Gordon, Peggy. There's no other way. But she won't bring you into it, I promise you. On my word of honor."

"I'm glad I told you, Lady Daphne, it's really been bothering me. We can't have trespa.s.sers lurking around Cavendon, now can we?"

"We certainly can't ... Leave it to me, Peggy, and in the meantime, let us decide what I might wear for dinner."

Forty-five.

"You look so well, Mama," Daphne said, sounding surprised, staring at her mother's reflection in the mirror on the dressing table. "Better than I've seen you for a long time."

"I feel better, Daphne," Felicity answered, and smiled back at her daughter's reflection.

Daphne moved away, went and sat in a chair, so that Olive Wilson could finish doing Felicity's hair, and within minutes the maid had put in the last hairpins and, as a finishing touch, a diamond-and-tortoisesh.e.l.l comb.

"There, that's it, your ladyship," Wilson said, stepping back, checking the countess's hairdo from various angles, nodding to herself.

"Honestly, Wilson, you're quite brilliant with hair!" Daphne exclaimed. "I love these fancy curls, and the way you've then swept one side back with the comb. Just lovely."

"Thank you, Lady Daphne," Wilson answered, and helped Felicity up out of the small chair.

"For the first time in months, I feel like going downstairs and having a lovely dinner with you, Daphne. It's been ages since I've even felt like getting dressed for dinner, never mind eating it."

"You look elegant, Mama, I must say, and the burgundy dress is certainly flattering."

Felicity laughed. "It's one of my old Paris frocks, revamped by Cecily. I don't know how she does it, but that clever girl can make anything look brand new. And chic."

"I know, and Charlotte says her own designs are complex, she calls them engineered. I do know Mrs. Alice has a devil of a time sewing them. But there's no question Ceci's got a huge talent."

"A little genius, I'd say," Felicity murmured, and turning to Olive Wilson, she said, "Thank you, Olive. You've outdone yourself tonight with my hair."

"It's my pleasure, my lady." She hesitated, then asked, "Do you need help down the stairs, Lady Mowbray?"

"I don't think I do, thank you. I believe I can navigate the corridors of Cavendon without any a.s.sistance tonight."

As they went downstairs, Daphne made sure her mother's right hand was on the bal.u.s.trade, and she kept her watchful eyes on her as they descended. Once they were in the grand entrance foyer, Felicity turned to her daughter, and half smiled. "You see, I did well, didn't I?"

Daphne nodded and took hold of her mother's arm, walked with her into the sitting room next door to the dining room, where they always a.s.sembled.

"Just the two of us tonight, but I think that's rather nice. We haven't had a chance to talk alone together for a long time."

"I know, and it's silly when you think about it, Mama, since we do live in the same house."

"The same big house," Felicity corrected. "Your grandfather always said you need a bicycle to get around it, and I think he was right."

"I hadn't realized Papa wasn't coming back tonight, until Hanson told me. Or that Great-Aunt Gwendolyn wasn't going to be with us for dinner either."

"It's very slushy outside apparently, all that melting snow, and, of course, Gregg and the motorcar are with your father in Northallerton, so there's no way to send him to get her. Your father had to stay because a dinner was arranged for the family and closest friends."

"I understand. Anyway, it's cozy, just the two of us, and I'm especially glad that you're doing so well." Daphne threw her mother a pointed look, and said, with a hint of laughter in her voice, "It's all because of Baby. She's given you a new lease on life, Mama."

"You're laughing, and I'm happy to laugh with you, Daphne. But it just so happens you spoke the truth. I've felt so much better since Baby's arrival, and we've got to stop calling her that or it will stick, and she'll hate us when she grows up."

"I agree. We must call her Alicia from this moment on."

"I'm sorry, Daphne, sorry I've been so absent in your life for such a long time. I'm afraid I've neglected you, and all of my daughters. However, it was you who needed me the most, and I let you down most dreadfully."

"Oh, Mama, please don't say that," Daphne cried, and rising, she went and sat next to her mother on the sofa. "I know how worried you were about Aunt Anne, and frustrated that you couldn't change the course her life had taken."

Felicity reached out and took hold of Daphne's hand, and held it tightly in hers. "You see, she brought me up from the age of three, she was ten years older than me, as you know. It was like losing a mother as well as a sister when she died. A double loss, in a sense." Felicity grimaced, and gave her daughter a knowing look. "I was frustrated, you're correct about that, and especially annoyed with Grace and Adrian. After all, Grace was her only child, and she should have returned immediately when Anne became so seriously ill. I'll never know why they lingered in Cairo."

"I agree, but as Papa would say, that's water under the bridge."

"I'm happy you married Hugo when you did, and that you insisted on an early marriage. And I'm glad I wouldn't let you spoil the honeymoon and come back for the funeral. There would have been no point, and Anne had made me promise I wouldn't allow that. She understood, and she knew you loved her, and that was good enough for her."

Hanson appeared in the doorway and said, "Dinner is served, my lady."

Daphne found it hard to sleep that night. She had far too much on her mind. Her foremost worry was the news Peggy Swift had given her about a trespa.s.ser on the private grounds of Cavendon and in the bluebell woods and park.

When Peggy had mentioned the bluebell woods she had felt the gooseflesh rising on her neck and arms, and instantly she had thought of Richard Torbett. But surely he wasn't lurking around the woods, being a Peeping Tom, or attacking young women, was he? But he had attacked her, hadn't he?

She pushed the thought of him away. That she had vowed to do on her wedding day, when she had seen him standing on the other side of the road, across from the church. She had looked again, and discovered he wasn't there. Had he ever been there at all? Perhaps she had imagined it.

Until today he had been gone from her thoughts. Not even when she had given birth to her daughter had she thought of him. Because by then she had been loved by Hugo in the most pa.s.sionate and tender way, and she had loved him in return. And it was Hugo who was the father of her child, as far as she was concerned.

Turning in the bed, holding on to the pillow, Daphne suddenly remembered her wedding night. Here with Hugo. Slowly, tenderly, and with infinite patience, he had aroused her, and in the most sensual way. She had discovered desire and pa.s.sion, and had become his.

Later he had said to her, "If you weren't pregnant already, I'd have made you pregnant tonight, my darling. I've never made love to any woman like this ... with such fervor, love, intensity, and pa.s.sion."

And she knew that he spoke the truth. Their nights of lovemaking continued, and as always when he took her to him she experienced ecstasy and joy.

She let these thoughts of desire and pa.s.sion slide away. They were too tantalizing. And she turned her thoughts to Charlotte.

She would meet her tomorrow and tell her Peggy's stories, and perhaps something could be done about the Peeping Tom. If there was one, that is. Maybe it was not a Peeping Tom at all, but another man intent on doing damage to a young couple. Or a girl.

This thought sent a shiver through her, and she calmed herself, and finally she fell asleep. It was not a dreamless sleep. Nightmares hounded her all through the night, and she was relieved when daylight broke.

The following morning, Daphne went to see Charlotte, who was now working for the earl in the office annex next to the stable block.

Bundled up in a warm coat and rain boots, Daphne glanced around as she made her way to the building. It had rained during the night, and the slush and melting snow had been washed away. The sun was shining, and even though it was cold, it was a nice day. The sky was blue, and the sun brightened the day.

More like March at last than the dead of winter, Daphne thought as she made her way along the path. Soon the daffodils will be blooming, as they should be.

"Lady Daphne!" Charlotte exclaimed, sounding surprised when Daphne walked into her office. "How lovely to see you. Good morning." She stood up, smiling.

"Morning, Miss Charlotte. I wonder if you can spare me a few minutes? There's something I need to talk to you about."

"Of course, please do sit down," Charlotte answered.

Glancing around, Daphne said, "I know that the estate staff are in the offices across the hall, and perhaps we ought to go out for a few minutes. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't, let me put my coat on." Charlotte was struggling into a heavy wool overcoat a moment later, and the two women went outside.

"Let's walk down to the stables," Daphne suggested. "I'd like to see Greensleeves."

Charlotte nodded and said, as they moved from the building, "You want to talk about something ... sensitive, shall we say?"

"I do, yes." Daphne immediately launched into the story of Peggy Swift and Gordon Lane, and repeated everything Peggy had told her yesterday.

She finished, "They're afraid of being sacked, because they broke the rule and went strolling around at night. They don't want Hanson's wrath coming down on them for being outside, when they should have been asleep. Peggy begged me not to tell anyone, and I did promise. Although I warned her I must talk to you."

"It's a strange story, Lady Daphne. You know there are a lot of estate workers in the grounds these days, but obviously they're not out late at night. Do you think we should have some of them patrolling after dark? Is that what you're saying?"

Daphne shook her head, answered vehemently, "No, not at all! I think that would really alarm everyone. It's not necessary, actually, because the staff are inside, to my knowledge." Daphne was silent, before adding, "I trust Peggy. She's down-to-earth, not at all imaginative. I'm certain she was telling me the truth."

"I agree. And why would she invent something like that?" Charlotte gave Daphne a pointed look, and asked, "I a.s.sume this was happening last summer, wasn't it? After you had been ... a.s.saulted in the bluebell woods."

"Yes, but I knew my attacker," Daphne was quick to respond. "And he's dead. So what shall we do?"

"Nothing," Charlotte answered in a firm tone. "I can't ask Percy Swann to put men out at night. He'll tell the earl, and how would I explain it without breaking Peggy's confidence?"

"I understand." Daphne was thoughtful as they went down to the stable yard, heading toward the stalls. "Perhaps you could just ask him to make sure the men are patrolling during the day."

"They're doing that already, Lady Daphne, and have been for months." Charlotte fell silent, wondering who could be loitering on the estate, and watching people. It didn't make sense.

Daphne went up to the stall, and Greensleeves moved toward her, whinnying, and she patted her, stroked her head. She had loved this horse since the first moment she had seen her, and suddenly her thoughts rushed back to the fire. "What a lucky escape Greensleeves had," Daphne remarked, looking at Charlotte. "I mean in the fire."

"Yes, indeed she did. Listen to me, Lady Daphne, I think what we ought to do is to say nothing. We should simply keep quiet. Apparently these incidents happened last summer, some time ago now. Just warn Peggy Swift not to go strolling with Gordon Lane late at night. Say that if she does, you'll have to tell Hanson everything."

"You're right, Miss Charlotte, and I don't really have any other choice, do I?"

"I'm afraid not. But do rest a.s.sured that there are plenty of estate workers out and about during the day."

"I know. I see them all the time."

Together the two women walked back to the office annex. On the way there, Daphne shared the news about the countess's improved health, and then with a laugh, she added, "It's all because of Baby. I'm sure of that, and Mama agreed. We also agreed to stop calling the baby Baby, because Mama thinks it will stick."

"And then she'll hate us all when she grows up," Charlotte murmured, also laughing. "So Alicia it is from now on."

Forty-six.

Alicia Felicity Gwendolyn Charlotte Ingham Stanton, a little baby with a very long name, was the star attraction at Cavendon Hall these days. Everyone wanted to see her, touch her, even hold her, although none of that actually happened.

Family and friends were only ever allowed to view her, and Nurse Willis made sure they did not break her rules. Daphne had been so taken with Jane Willis she had asked her to stay on permanently at Cavendon.

The Norland-trained baby nurse usually gave her "new baby" only six weeks, and then moved on to a new family. But she broke her rule for Alicia. Like everyone else, she had been captivated by this gorgeous infant with bright blue eyes, blond tufts of silky hair, and a peaches-and-cream complexion. All inherited from her mother.

Like Daphne, she had a sweet disposition, was a baby who rarely cried, forever smiled, chortled, and laughed.

Her parents and grandparents doted on her, as did her aunts. Except for Diedre, of course, who was always mumbling to herself that too much fuss was being made over "just a baby." For the last few months Diedre had been absent from Cavendon. She was traveling in Europe with her friend Maxine Lowe, an heiress of great wealth. Dulcie, in particular, was pleased she was away.

Dulcie adored Alicia and was forever making her small gifts; lavender sachets, cut-out paper tulips colored red and yellow, and ribbon bows for her tufts of blond hair. And DeLacy was truly proud when Daphne allowed her and Cecily to push the Silver Cross pram up and down the terrace.

DeLacy was doing that on this Sunday afternoon in May. The weather was lovely, and the rain clouds of earlier had blown away. DeLacy pushed the pram carefully, leaning forward, cooing to the baby, smiling and talking to her. The child simply laughed and kicked her chubby little legs in the air, as contented as always.

Daphne was seated at the round table with Jill Handelsman, who, with her husband, Marty, had been guests at Cavendon for the weekend. The two women were finishing their coffee before the Handelsmans took their leave. They were being driven to Harrogate by Gregg, and would take a late-afternoon train to London.

Daphne liked them, and she was impressed with Jill's business ac.u.men, appreciative of the way she had swiftly found a nice office for Hugo, and had it up and running within a couple of weeks. He went to London twice a month, for a couple of days, and always returned singing Jill's praises. Hugo felt he had everything under control because of her help.

After a few moments of silence, Jill said, "I want to thank you again for arranging for me to see Cavendon's collection of antique silver. Your father was most gracious and informative."

"Hugo told me you collected Regency and Georgian silver, Jill, and I knew you would enjoy seeing the Paul Storr pieces."

"I did, especially those gorgeous candlesticks, which were made in 1815. I have always admired his work. He was one of the great master silversmiths, wasn't he?"

"He was. I reminded Papa to show you the impressive silver bowl, that Queen Anne monteith by William Denny. He was another of the great English silversmiths, a century before Storr."

"I know. I made a note of that later. The monteith was crafted in 1702, your father told me. The earl is very knowledgeable about silver, probably more than anyone I've ever met."

Daphne smiled. "And just about everything else at Cavendon. My father considers himself the custodian of all this..." Daphne paused, swept out an arm, added, "The house, all of its contents, the land, the grouse moor. Everything as far as the eye can see. He always says he's keeping it intact, and in perfect condition, for the next generation, and generations after that. As for his knowledge, this was pa.s.sed down from his father, the fifth earl, and Papa will pa.s.s it on to Guy ... that's how it works. Father to son, the next heir, and so on-"

"Here we are!" Hugo exclaimed, interrupting Daphne, walking onto the terrace with Marty. "I'm afraid I've got to break this up, ladies. Gregg is waiting at the front with the Rolls-Royce, to whisk you off to the railway station."

Later that afternoon, as they were walking from the South Wing to the yellow sitting room in the East Wing, for afternoon tea, Daphne suddenly stopped and took hold of Hugo's arm.

He also came to a standstill, and looked at her. "What is it?"