The Cavendon Women

THIRTEEN

The house was still. So quiet that Cecily was alarmed. She stood in the small entrance foyer, her head cocked, listening for sounds of life.

Nothing stirred. This worried her. Her aunt had not looked well earlier; rather tired, worn out, actually. She hoped Charlotte had not collapsed, taken to her bed.

Cecily had come over to her house to help her try on the last of the clothes she had brought from London. That was an exhausting exercise, fitting frocks and outfits, and she hoped Charlotte was up to it.

Cecily walked towards the sitting room when she heard noises on the floor above and stopped. ‘Are you up there, Aunt Charlotte?’ she called, and immediately began to climb the stairs.

Charlotte appeared on the landing, looking down at her great-niece.

‘Cecily! I didn’t expect you until later.’

They hugged when Cecily stepped out onto the landing, and then they went into Charlotte’s bedroom together.

Cecily noticed the photograph in the silver frame at once. It was of David Ingham, the 5th Earl, for whom Charlotte had worked from the age of seventeen until his death. She had been his personal assistant.

Over the years their relationship had grown much more personal, although they had been so discreet that nobody knew for certain if they had been lovers or not. Except for the Swanns, who were aware of everything that went on at Cavendon.

The frame on the bed was next to a number of leather-bound notebooks and a pile of legal documents. And instantly Charlotte noticed a peculiar look on Cecily’s face, and followed the direction of her gaze. She asked, ‘Why are you so interested in David’s photograph?’

‘I was wondering why you have it in your bedroom? After all, your fiancé might find it strange, having his father’s image staring back at him all the time.’

Charlotte burst out laughing. After a moment, when her hilarity had subsided, she said, ‘It’s usually locked up in a drawer. But I’ve been making a special list for you, and the code number for my main safe is on the back of his picture. That’s why it’s here.’

As she was speaking, Charlotte took the photograph out of the frame, and showed Cecily the number neatly written on the back. ‘This is the combination for the big safe, where I keep my jewellery and those documents.’

Reaching for the list on the bedside table, she gave it to Cecily. ‘I just added the number here. And, by the way, those are some of the record books. They are kept with many others in the second safe. I’ve been rearranging them, putting them in order.’

Cecily nodded, glanced at the list. ‘And what are these other numbers?’

‘I’ll explain the list later. I want to tell you something else. When I die, you will take my place and keep the record books. Until you die. Before that happens, you must designate the person who will replace you to keep the records.’

Suddenly troubled, Cecily asked, ‘What’s wrong, Aunt Charlotte? Are you ill?’

‘No, I’m not, don’t be so silly.’

‘Then why are you talking about wills and dying, when you’re about to get married?’

‘You of all people should know how practical I am. I want my affairs in order before I marry Charles. Also, we are going abroad, we’ll be travelling, and I am fifty-eight years old. So, just in case—’

‘Just in case what?’ Cecily interrupted sharply.

‘Don’t get het up, Ceci dear. I’m perfectly well, and fit, and sound of mind. However, I do have quite a few possessions, such as this house, jewellery David bought me over the years, certain investments he made for me. I just want everything to be quite clear to you. I’m not going to die for a very long time, I promise you.’

‘I’ll hold you to that.’

‘I won’t let you down. Nobody knows what’s going to happen from one day to the next. We are not in control of life. Life controls us. We have to handle what befalls us the best way we can. And hope and pray that it comes out right in the end. Remember this, Ceci.’

‘I do take what you say seriously. I do listen to you,’ Cecily reassured her.

Picking up one of the notebooks, Charlotte opened it at a certain page, handed it to Cecily. ‘Please read this particular entry.’

Staring at the page, Cecily read the words which had been penned in a beautiful copperplate handwriting.

Still holding the book, Cecily gazed at her aunt. ‘That’s so sad … they lost a child.’ Her voice was thick with emotion. ‘Do you know who the person was? The man who wrote it? The Swann?’ She was intrigued, curious as well as touched.

‘I think so, but only because of the date. I believe it was Mark Swann who wrote it, the father of Percy and Walter. He was head of the family at that time. Obviously I have no idea who the Ingham woman was. For obvious reasons, he didn’t write her name in the notebook. Protecting her. At least that’s my opinion.’

‘Why did you show me this entry?’

‘For the same reason I told Charles about it a few years ago. I wanted him to understand that there is something mysterious, yet inevitable, about the Ingham men and the Swann women being together. I wanted you to understand that, too.’

Cecily’s dark brows drew together in a frown. ‘I’m not sure I’m following you. What do you mean?’

‘I have been involved with two Ingham men. One died. The other I am about to marry. And what about you and Miles?’ Charlotte paused for a second, and gave Cecily a penetrating look. ‘You and Miles have been extremely close since you were children. And I know you love each other.’

‘Yes, it’s true,’ Cecily admitted, having denied it for years.

‘And there hasn’t been another man in your life, has there?’

‘No. I’m far too busy working. I don’t have time.’

Charlotte bit back a smile. ‘You’re in love with Miles,’ she said again. ‘Other men don’t interest you, hold no attraction for you.’

When Cecily was silent, Charlotte asked, ‘Am I not right?’

‘You are,’ Cecily answered in a low voice.

‘And he’s in love with you. I believe that’s one of the reasons his marriage failed. Clarissa played a role, of course. She wasn’t a good wife. And she never conceived. Anyway, this is the point … he’ll come after you, Ceci. Be prepared. That’s the way the Ingham men are. With us. They just won’t let go.’

Cecily sighed. ‘He told me this morning that he is going to ask for a divorce. He said he hoped we could be together once he was free, because he loved me.’

‘And how did you answer?’

‘I told him I didn’t know how I would feel. I really meant that, Aunt Charlotte. I don’t believe I can go back to him. Ever. He hurt me so much. I can’t forgive him. Or ever forget his treachery.’

‘Oh darling, it wasn’t treachery,’ Charlotte said softly, her heart aching for Cecily, knowing how she had suffered. ‘He had to do his duty as the heir. Whatever his feelings were for you, he had to put them aside. He had no alternative.’

‘You’re defending him!’ Cecily pursed her lips and gave her aunt a hard and knowing stare.

‘No, I’m explaining to you what Miles Ingham faced. It was his duty,’ she emphasized again. ‘He had to marry her, produce an heir.’

‘And, once he’s free, he’ll have to do his duty again! Marry an aristocrat, beget an aristocratic heir. The Earl will see to that,’ Cecily shot back vehemently.

‘No, no, that won’t happen,’ Charlotte replied. ‘I promise you. Very recently, I reminded Charles about that entry you’ve just read, which fully illustrates how long these liaisons have gone on. Over a hundred years. I told him he had to agree that Miles must seek a divorce. That is an imperative. I also explained that he could not interfere in the relationship which Miles would likely have with you later. And the world has changed radically, which Charles accepts.’

Genuinely surprised by this statement, Cecily just sat there, gaping at Charlotte, rendered speechless for a few moments.

And then it hit her. ‘You did this, didn’t you? You put us together this weekend. It was you who told the Earl that Miles and I worked well with each other, that we should handle everything. The events. Any problems or trouble that might arise. It was you, Aunt Charlotte. You manipulated all of us.’

Charlotte shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t. What I did was arrange a situation in which you and Miles would be helpful to us if anything went amiss. And at the same time I knew it would give you both a chance to connect again.’

‘You’re splitting hairs.’

‘Maybe I am. But I’ve watched Miles in his awful misery for six years. Very painful to witness. And I’ve seen how you work and work and work. To counteract your own sorrow and loneliness. You’re both broken. I hoped I could help to mend the two of you somehow.’

When Cecily remained silent, Charlotte went on quietly, ‘Well, I suppose I am guilty as charged. Still, there’s no getting away from the fact that Miles must produce an heir for Cavendon. And the only woman he wants in his bed is you. And that’s that.’

‘You’ve put me in a terrible position!’ Cecily protested.

‘No, I haven’t, and actually you are holding all the cards, if you think about it. I really do believe you have the winning hand. However, let’s move on. I need to continue to explain about my will. You are my main heir. Harry is my only other heir. I’ve looked after him, so there’s nothing to worry about. I’ve left my house to the two of you. However, I have also left all of my shares in Cecily Swann Couture to you. It is your business, and you should own it fully.’

‘Thank you, thank you very much, Aunt Charlotte. But what about Aunt Dorothy? She has some shares.’

‘Not many. I’m going to buy her out, and she’ll be happy to sell. You don’t need any partners. Always remember that. Anyway, they’re a nuisance in the long run.’

‘You’ve never been a nuisance,’ Cecily pointed out softly, having regained her composure.

‘Thank you for saying that. I’ve tried to stay in the background.’

There was a moment of silence, and then Cecily said, ‘You have some dresses to try on, you know.’

‘Let’s lock up the record books and the documents, and then I will concentrate on my trousseau, I promise.’

FOURTEEN

Diedre enjoyed her early morning walk to Little Skell Manor, which took her through the park at Cavendon, past the lake where the two snow-white swans floated together in contentment.

She paused for a moment, watching the swans, remembering that they mated for life. If only she had been able to do that … She pushed sorrowful thoughts to one side, and moved along the path at a steady pace. Put the past behind you, she reminded herself.

At one moment, she lifted her head, glanced up at the sky. It was a clear blue on this sunny Saturday morning, and she hoped the good weather would last. She wanted it to be a perfect day tomorrow for her father’s marriage with Charlotte.

How glad she was he had taken this step at long last. There was not a single doubt in her mind that Charlotte would be a wonderful wife … she had actually been exactly that for many years, without the benefit of a legal document.

Diedre had felt the warmth and love of her father, Miles and her sisters last night at the family dinner. It had been like old times, and she had realized how much she had missed everyone.

Funny, she thought now, how we become so entangled in our everyday doings, consumed by our worries and problems. Selfish really, not giving a thought to others.

She aimed to make amends, to stay in touch with her sisters, most especially DeLacy. It struck her last night how fragile DeLacy was – nervous, on edge. At one moment after dinner she had asked Miles if their sister was all right. Miles had said DeLacy was unhappy about the divorce, yet could not live with Simon. Their married life had been full of terrible quarrels and violent upsets that had inevitably torn them apart in the end.

Diedre focused on Miles, who had also been unlucky in love. If he’d ever loved Clarissa, that is. Duty had been at the root. What rotten luck that Clarissa had not produced an heir. On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. Miles had confided to her that he was going to seek a divorce. Far better in this situation that there were no children involved.

Daphne’s been the luckiest, Diedre thought, her mind suddenly settling on her sister’s adorable and beautiful children. As for Dulcie, she has her life ahead of her. I’m going to take her under my wing; I’m determined to make up for the way I treated her when she was a child, she muttered to herself. Deep inside she was still ashamed of the way she had behaved.

As she walked up the garden path to Great-Aunt Gwendolyn’s house, Diedre managed to empty her mind of these thoughts, and tried to concentrate on what she had to say.

One thing she did know, she could not waste her great-aunt’s time. She wouldn’t sit still for small talk, always needed to get to the heart of the matter. And immediately. Gwendolyn Ingham Baildon was blessed with great intelligence and practicality. Diedre thought she had the most wisdom of anyone in the family.

Lifting the brass hand-knocker on the front door, she banged it once. Almost instantly the door was opened to reveal Mrs Pine, Lady Gwendolyn’s long-time housekeeper, standing there.

Smiling, greeting her warmly, Mrs Pine led her through the front hall and into the parlour. This attractive room, filled with mellow antiques, comfortable sofas and chairs, had two large mullioned windows which overlooked the gardens. The gardens were beautiful; they had been lovingly cultivated by Harry Swann until he had become Miles’s right-hand man, learning estate management with him.

Her great-aunt was sitting on a sofa, waiting for her. ‘There you are, my dear,’ Lady Gwendolyn exclaimed. ‘Punctual as always. I do like that characteristic in people. Those who arrive late are thoughtless. They’re stealing one’s time, don’t you know.’

Diedre nodded. ‘That’s correct. And thank you for agreeing to see me this morning.’ She bent over and kissed her aunt’s cheek.

‘I’m happy to have a little private visit with you, Diedre. Do sit down, my dear, don’t hover.’

Taking a chair next to the sofa, Diedre said, ‘I’ve been informed by a very good friend, a trusted friend, that I have an enemy at the War Office. I was stunned when I heard this. My work has been excellent, and I’ve had promotions over the years. My friend said this enemy could prove dangerous to me.’

Lady Gwendolyn sat up straighter on the sofa and gave Diedre a penetrating look, her eyes narrowing slightly. ‘I don’t like the use of the word “dangerous”, Diedre. Dangerous in what way?’

‘I’m not sure. I think that whoever is against me wants me to be dismissed – pushed out, in other words.’

‘What exactly is it that you do at the War Office? No one seems to know, and you’ve been very wary about discussing it over the years. Which leads me to make the assumption you are in Intelligence. Is that so?’

Diedre leaned forward slightly and said in a low voice, ‘I am not allowed to discuss my work, Great-Aunt. But let me just say that I have never known you to be wrong about anything, and most especially in your assumptions.’

A twitch of a smile crossed Lady Gwendolyn’s face, and she nodded. ‘Now, do you have any indication who this enemy might be? Were you given a name? Or do you suspect anyone of wanting to harm you?’

‘The answer is a definite no to all of your questions. I was rather dumbfounded, actually, when I was told I had an enemy, someone who was out to make trouble for me. I’ve wracked my brains, and I haven’t been able to pinpoint anyone.’

‘Who was the person who informed you, may I ask?’

‘A very old friend, Alfie Fennell,’ Diedre answered. ‘And he was so sincere I believed him.’

‘Is he any relation to Sir Hubert Fennell?’ Lady Gwendolyn asked.

‘Yes. That’s his uncle.’

‘How did young Fennell get to know about this so-called enemy of yours?’ Lady Gwendolyn now asked.

‘Through Johanna Ellsworth. They are cousins. Neither have anything to do with the War Office. Alfie is a barrister, and Johanna does not work. She has a private income.’

‘It seems that your friend Johanna knew about this first and passed it on.’

‘She told Alfie she had heard a strange rumour about me, and she wanted him to alert me, even though she said it was only a rumour.’

‘I think you have to find out who told her.’

‘I did do some probing, and I know the right questions to ask. I gathered that it was just … out there.’

Lady Gwendolyn was silent for a moment before remarking, ‘You say you can’t think of anyone who might want to cause you trouble. But maybe it’s not someone … highly visible. Have you ever offended anyone, without realizing it? Have you rejected a would-be suitor who you didn’t know was a suitor? Is someone in competition with you?’

‘None of those things. At least, not that I know of. I just plough into my work every day and keep my head down.’

‘Have you told any of your colleagues at the War Office about this rumour?’

‘No, I haven’t. I thought it better not to say a word to anyone except you. Obviously, I know people there, and we’re friendly as colleagues, but I don’t have any bosom chums. Actually, I’m baffled at the mere idea of an enemy.’

‘How can I help you, Diedre?’

‘I’m not sure. Being able to talk to you about this helps a lot, because now I don’t feel so alone, coping with this problem.’ Diedre let out a small sigh, shook her head. ‘I thought you might know someone at the War Office, or in the government. But now, as I’m saying that, I know you can’t just start asking your friends who my enemy might be, now can you?’ Diedre began to laugh at her own absurdity, and so did Lady Gwendolyn.

After a few moments, Diedre added, ‘I suppose all I can do is just wait and see who tries to make trouble for me.’

‘That is true, my dear, in one sense. But I’m afraid I can’t just leave it at that. Let me think about this. I am going up to town next week. I have several engagements to fulfil, and who knows what I might find out as I circulate in Mayfair and Westminster with my friends.’

‘Thank you, Great-Aunt Gwendolyn, I do appreciate your help. I love my work …’ Diedre broke off as her voice started to quaver unexpectedly. She was on the verge of tears. Swallowing, promptly taking hold of herself, she continued, ‘The War Office is a huge part of my life, as you know. I’ve been there twelve years, and I love what I do. Without it I would be lost.’

‘I truly understand,’ Lady Gwendolyn murmured sympathetically, having always been aware that Diedre found great fulfilment in her work, and was dedicated to her professional life.

FIFTEEN

It was a weird and dubious story at best, and if anyone else had told her this strange little tale, Lady Gwendolyn would have doubted its veracity.

Since it was Diedre who had related it, though, she believed it was the truth. Her great-niece was honest and dependable, not given to flights of fancy.

Leaning back against the iron garden seat, gazing out at the flower garden, she relaxed, let her mind wander.

She knew nothing about Diedre’s work, other than that she was well thought of by the powers that be. Only today had Diedre strongly implied she was in Intelligence, which Lady Gwendolyn herself had long suspected but never mentioned to anyone. She was always cautious when it came to such things.

As the daughter of one of the foremost earls in the land, with a title in her own right, her niece mixed in the best of circles, was genuinely popular, and was on the invitation lists of everyone that mattered in London society.

There had never been any gossip about Diedre … no Chinese whispers. Lady Gwendolyn sat up with a start, frowning to herself, suddenly recalling Maxine Lowe, one of Diedre’s closest friends. She had been found dead in suspicious circumstances at her house in Mayfair, four years ago now.

At the time, Lady Gwendolyn had been annoyed when Diedre had been interviewed by Scotland Yard. But her worries immediately vanished when her great-niece told her that all of Maxine’s friends had been questioned by the police.

Diedre had then gone on to explain that the big boys at the Yard thought they might be looking at a murder; some agreed with this theory, others focused on the idea of suicide.

Then a different verdict altogether was announced by the coroner at the inquest. Maxine had indeed died from poisoning, and the substance ingested was arsenic. But the manner of death was declared to be undetermined. Leaving the verdict inconclusive in this way meant that the case was open to speculation; there had been a lot of talk about Maxine’s sudden death in the circles she had moved in – mainly high society and the artistic world. In the end, nothing ever came of the police investigation. Her death remained a mystery to this day.

Now Lady Gwendolyn focused on Diedre’s present problem, and her razor-sharp mind told her one thing … the rumour about Diedre being pushed out by the War Office had nothing to do with her personal life. She believed it had been started by a colleague with a grudge against Diedre.

Nothing else made sense, actually. Obviously there was someone who wanted Diedre out of the way. Jealousy, envy and ambition. A fatal combination. Malice, she said to herself. It’s driven by malice aforethought.

If you wanted to punish a person, the only way to do it without causing them bodily harm was to attack whomever or whatever they loved the most. Hit their vulnerable spot hard.