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Authors: Margaret Addison

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Chapter Sixteen

 

When looking back over the next few weeks, at the tragic events of that
weekend, Rose felt with hindsight that it had been almost inevitable that the
tension that had appeared on the Friday and steadily built up would eventually
explode, although few of those present, she felt sure, could have anticipated
such disastrous consequences.

At the time, Rose was aware only that the arrival of the others at the
croquet lawn for luncheon had brought to an end what, up until then, had been a
bright and relaxed day. It was difficult to identify what exactly had marred
the day, how the atmosphere had become strained for, despite the sunshine and
the sumptuous banquet served by Lady Withers’ attentive servants, gone were the
tranquillity and laughter. Lord Sneddon was positively scowling, Lavinia was
sulking and Cedric looked only worried.

It seemed to Rose that it must be due to the presence of someone in the
party and that if that were the case, it was likely to be only one of two
women. Reason told her that it must surely be the countess with her ill
temperament, bullying manner and sour expression, but at the same time she
could not help but remember the illicit conversation that had passed between
Edith and Sir William, or the hurt expression on Lady Withers’ face and the
look of fear on her sister’s when each encountered Edith. It seemed too
far-fetched that someone as nervous, timid and insignificant as Edith was,
could cause one strong woman anguish and the other to be afraid. And it was
because Edith appeared almost pathetic and yet seemed to yield so much power,
that Rose found herself regarding the woman warily, tempted herself to give her
a wide berth.

Even so, she found herself drawn to sitting next to Edith, as if the
woman held some strange fascination that she could not resist.

‘I feel that you and I are alike, Rose,’ said Edith, ‘watching on, so to
speak, looking at the way people who are titled and have money live. See how
many servants they have to look after their needs, doesn’t it make you envious?
Wouldn’t you like to change places with Lavinia instead of going back to work
in your shop? They were always lucky, they always got exactly what they wanted,
even then.’ Edith bent her head to Rose’s and lowered her voice. ‘They were the
Bellingham sisters, you know?’

‘Bellingham sisters, you mean Lady Withers and Lady Belvedere?’ enquired
Rose, somewhat confused.

‘Yes, I still think of them as that, silly isn’t it?  It dates back
to when we were all at school together. We used to spend the school holidays
together too. We were quite inseparable, although I always knew I was different
from them, the poor relation, I mean.’

‘That must have been quite hard.’

‘As a small child it didn’t seem to matter, but as we got older, it
became more apparent. They became more aware of their wealth, I think, and what
it could get them. Did you know that their family made its money from coal
mining? It both owned and operated the collieries, that’s to say, their family
owned both the mineral royalties and the coal, which isn’t usual; it put them
in a very strong position. I’ll say this for the Bellingham’s though, they had
a good record in ensuring the safety of their workers as well as providing them
with good housing. Theirs was one of the pits that the King visited during his
Royal Tour of the North in 1912. Anyway, it was obvious that with that amount
of wealth behind them, both sisters were destined to make good marriages. They
had looks too; they were considered the most beautiful debutantes of their
time. Yes, they had everything going for them.’ A touch of bitterness had
entered Edith’s voice, which Rose resented. How could Edith just sit there and
berate their wealth while at the same time enjoying Lady Withers’ hospitality
and engaging in an illicit liaison with her husband?

‘You and Lady Withers are obviously close. Lavinia says you often come to
stay at Ashgrove.’

‘Yes, as much as anyone can be close to Constance.’

‘And Sir William, you must be close to him too given that he’s the
husband of your old school friend?

Edith looked at Rose suspiciously for a moment, and then looked away.

‘They seem a very devoted couple, don’t they, Lady Withers and Sir
William?’

‘Do they? Yes, I suppose they do, I’ve never really given it much
thought.’

‘Well, perhaps you should,’ Rose blurted out before she could stop
herself.

‘I –.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean ….it’s … oh, I don’t really know what I mean,’
Rose said helplessly. It was not any of her business after all.

‘It’s all right, it’s the atmosphere here. You feel it as I do. You can cut
it with a knife. It’s because of her you know.’ Rose followed Edith’s glance.
She was staring intently at where Lady Withers and Lady Belvedere stood,
engaged in conversation. Rose was pleased to see that Lady Withers’ servants
were at the other end of the lawn, loading up the hampers with the used
cutlery, glasses and crockery and so were unlikely to overhear their
conversation.

‘I am about to do something that I am loathe to do,’ said Edith, and Rose
saw that she had tears in her eyes. ‘It will break Harry’s heart, of course,
but I’ve got to do it, I’ve got to.’

‘Must you really?’ asked Rose. She felt a sharp stab of guilt. Not once
had she thought about the effect the discovery of his wife’s affair might have
on Edith’s husband, Harold. Her thoughts had only been with Lady Withers and
Lavinia and Cedric and how they would be affected. Now she thought about the
man she had never met. Surely he had suffered enough with the death of his only
son; it would be too cruel to hear that his wife had been unfaithful with the
husband of her old school friend.

‘Don’t do it, Mrs Torrington…. Edith,’ Rose implored. ‘No good can come
of it, after all. You’ll hurt so many people. Is it really worth it, just to
free your conscience?’  

‘But I’ve got to. I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself if I
don’t. Don’t you see,’ Edith turned to look at Rose beseechingly, ‘I might
never get another chance. The truth must come out, it must.’

Edith was right in thinking that she might not have another opportunity,
Rose acknowledged, for now that Lady Withers had suspicions about her husband’s
relationship with her old school friend, it was highly unlikely that Edith
would ever be invited to stay again at Ashgrove. 

‘But please don’t.’ Rose took a deep breath. Edith appeared so adamant
that there did not seem anything for it but to let on that she had overheard
their conversation on the croquet lawn. ‘Sir William doesn’t want you to, does
he?’    

‘William? Oh, oh, no ….’ Edith stared at her and then realisation must
have dawned, because her face seemed to collapse.

‘Please,’ said Rose hastily, looking around afraid that the others would
notice Edith’s distraught state. She was relieved to see that everyone, other
than Lord Belvedere, who Rose thought was unlikely to say anything or draw it
to anyone else’s attention, appeared to be too engrossed in their own
conversations to have noticed. ‘I didn’t mean to listen to your conversation,
really I didn’t, but if Sir William doesn’t want you to, why do it?’ She wanted
to add, but thought it mean to do so, so didn’t, that if Sir William did not
want Edith to say anything, then surely that meant that he had no intention of
leaving his wife to be with her.

‘Don’t you see, I’ve got to.’

‘But why?’ Rose felt as if she wanted to shake Edith. ‘Why must you do
it?’

‘She’s got to pay, don’t you see that? She’s got to pay for what she did
to me, to us?’

Rose felt herself becoming cold towards Edith. Why should Lady Withers
pay? What could she possibly have done to Edith, compared with what Edith had
done, and was about to do, to her? Edith was thinking only of herself. Perhaps
she felt that if she could not have Sir William, she would make sure that he
and Lady Withers were not happy.

‘When are you going to do it?’

‘Today sometime, before dinner, I must do it today.’

‘Why must you do it today? Can’t you leave it to the end of the weekend,
when everyone’s about to leave?’ She wondered if Edith could arrange to stay on
somehow, so that Lady Withers was not told the truth until her guests had all gone.

‘No, I want to get it over with. Besides, there might not be time
tomorrow.’

‘Do you really think so little of her that you would cause her so much
pain while everyone is still
here?’             

‘Think so little of her?’ Rose was alarmed to find that Edith had raised
her voice. ‘I don’t just think little of her, I loathe and despise the woman!
Why, I positively hate her, didn’t you hear me say as much to William? As far
as I’m concerned, she should die for what she did, she certainly doesn’t deserve
to live. I’m half minded to kill her myself and to hell with the consequences!’

Rose was visibly shocked. It was not just the vehemence with which Edith
had said such awful things which led her to believe that she truly meant every
word, it was that she had managed to disguise her feelings so well so as to
appear friendly towards Lady Withers. Why had she been chatting idly with Lady
Withers as they made their way towards the croquet lawn for lunch if she
despised her so?

‘But she’s your old school friend –‘

‘Pah! She and I have never been friends. She never liked me then and she
dislikes me even more now.’

‘But if that’s the case, why do you come to Ashgrove? If you hate Lady
Withers so much, why do you accept her hospitality?’

‘Lady Withers?’ Edith looked at Rose in amazement. ‘I’m not talking about
Constance
. Whatever put that idea into your head? No, I’m talking about
Marjorie, the Countess of Belvedere.’

Chapter Seventeen

 

Before Rose had an opportunity to question Edith further and ask her what
she meant, Lady Withers had whisked her friend away on some pretext about
seeing some gown or other that she had a view to wear that evening. In the few
brief minutes before she herself was persuaded to play another game of croquet,
Rose, although deeply puzzled at how she could have misunderstood everything so
completely, felt a deep sense of relief that Edith was not about to tear apart
the lives of her host and hostess. That Edith had some personal grievance
against Lady Belvedere was obvious, but it was not her concern.

The rest of the day was spent playing yet more croquet, and with Cedric
as a capable teacher, Rose felt by the end that she was becoming quite a master
at the game and was even able to croquet Lavinia. The activities of the day,
however, were constantly disrupted by Lady Belvedere summoning one or other of
them to her presence. The first to be summoned was Lord Sneddon, much to the
young man’s surprise, who was followed first by Lavinia and then by Cedric.
Lord Sneddon, Rose noticed, returned distinctly out of sorts, not wishing to
speak to anyone and smashing the croquet ball with such force that Rose was
surprised that it did not split in two. Lavinia returned in a sulky mood, every
so often looking daggers at Rose, as if her friend had upset her in some way
rather than her mother. When Cedric returned he was quiet and withdrawn, as if
he had much on his mind but, when he happened to catch Rose’s eye, he smiled
shyly. Rose half expected to be summoned herself to appear before the countess,
but was relieved to find that this was not to be the case. Even so, it had put
a distinct dampener on the afternoon, casting a shadow that lasted until
dinner.

 

Lavinia, Rose knew, planned to wear her gold lame dress that evening, cut
on the bias and pleated on one side, complete with fishtail. While she herself
considered that such a dress was more suited for wearing to a banquet, it put
her black dress to shame, particularly as she had already worn it to dinner the
night before. She had also completely forgotten to select a rose from the
garden to wear as a corsage. Just as Rose was resigning herself to wearing her
mother’s pearls again, hoping that no-one would notice that her outfit was
exactly the same as the one she had worn the night before, there was a gentle
tapping at her door.

‘Excuse me, miss,’ said Martha, coming in. ‘I hope you don’t mind, I know
it’s taking a liberty, like, but I couldn’t help noticing when I was hanging up
your things that you’d only brought the one evening dress with you.  I
hope you won’t take offence, but I happened to mention it to Miss Crimms, she
who’s her ladyship’s lady’s maid and who’s also seeing to Lady Belvedere while
she’s staying with us, and a more demanding and ungrateful woman I can’t
imagine, the countess that is not Miss Crimms, begging your pardon, miss. But
Miss Crimms suggested you might like a fabric flower to make your dress look a
bit different, like. She’s ever so good at needlework and sewing is Miss
Crimms, makes all her ladyship’s smalls she does, and her mending is invisible,
makes outfits look as good as new. You should’ve seen what she did with her
ladyship’s blue, silk chiffon dress after her ladyship accidently caught her
sleeve on the door handle. Almost ripped the sleeve in two did her ladyship,
but Miss Crimms mended it so it looked better than before, so she did. Well,
anyway, miss, here you are, with Miss Crimms’ compliments.’

Martha handed Rose a large fabric flower made out of raw gold silk,
decorated with beads.

‘Oh, Martha, it’s beautiful but she shouldn’t have,’ exclaimed Rose, ‘it
must have taken her ages to make. ‘

‘Miss Crimms is awful quick with a needle, miss. It took her no time at
all. And to tell you the truth, I think she enjoyed it. She don’t get much call
to try out her needle skills making new things, not here, she don’t. She
suggests as you should wear it on one shoulder. If you sit still there one
moment, I’ll just fix it before I go back downstairs. There now,’ Martha stood
back to admire the effect, ‘now don’t you look a picture, miss.’

‘That maid looked awfully pleased with herself,’ said Lavinia coming into
the room and lounging on Rose’s bed while trying not to mess up her hair. ‘I
say, I like that flower, it totally transforms your dress.’

‘Yes, it’s lovely, isn’t it?’      

‘Mother wouldn’t stop bending my ear about you this afternoon.’

‘Oh?’ Rose, seated at the dressing table and in the act of powdering her
face, paused and looked at her friend’s reflection in the mirror.

‘She says that you have designs on Ceddie, that you only became my friend
so as to get the opportunity to meet him.’

‘What rot,’ said Rose, blushing furiously and swinging around in her seat
to face her friend, ‘surely you don’t believe her, Lavinia? Why, I didn’t even
know that he’d be here.’

‘I don’t know, Rose. I don’t want to believe her, of course, but you and
Ceddie have been getting on rather well and besides there’s another thing.’

‘What?’

‘Well, Hugh agrees with Mother; in fact I think he might have put the
idea into her head. But that’s not all,’ Lavinia added quickly as Rose made to
interrupt. ‘Hugh told me that you had made a bit of a play for him too.’

‘Did he now; how dare he? I think you’ll find that the opposite’s the
case, Lavinia. If you want to know the truth, he made a drunken pass at me last
night.’

‘What absolute rubbish.’

‘It happens to be the truth. But if you don’t believe me,’ replied Rose
coldly, ‘then I suggest you talk to Stafford. He witnessed it all and rescued
me from what was a very unpleasant situation. Ask him.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Lavinia, ‘I’ll do no such thing. I think
you’re just jealous about me and Hugh. Well, you can jolly well make your own
way down to the drawing room; I’m not waiting for you.’ And with that she
stormed out of the room banging the door shut behind her, with Rose left
wondering how it had come to this.

  

Not surprisingly, it was a very subdued party that met for dinner that
evening. Rose and Lavinia were clearly not talking to each other, with Lavinia
taking every opportunity to glare at Rose when she happened to catch her eye
across the table. While she was making a great show of finding everything Lord
Sneddon said to her highly amusing, that gentleman in turn, although acting
totally enthralled with Lavinia, every now and then allowed himself to smirk
unkindly at Rose when he was sure of not being seen by anyone else. Turning to
her dinner companion, Rose found that she could not even find solace in his
company, for Cedric  looked distinctly unhappy and hardly spoke, picking
at his bread roll miserably.  On her other side, the earl was as quiet and
uncommunicative as he had been the previous night and Edith’s face was
positively ashen; indeed she looked as if she might faint any minute. Rose shot
a glance at both Sir William, who was clearly concerned about the state Edith
was in, and Lady Withers, who, while watching them forlornly, was talking
loudly about nothing in particular to try and hide the fact. Only Lady
Belvedere, Rose noticed, looked unperturbed by the tension in the room. She
would even go so far as to say that the countess appeared to glow, as if it was
something that she positively enjoyed. There was a cruel gleam in her eye and a
curl of her thin lips which seemed to spell out victory, as if she had been
anticipating a fraught and unpleasant battle that she had now
won.          

‘I’m afraid that I don’t feel very well,’ Edith said suddenly, clutching
her head. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go to my room.’

There was the noise of chairs being pushed back as the men stood up.
Edith on rising to her feet appeared about to swoon. But it was a sharp intake
of breath from the countess that made Rose turn her attention to Lady
Belvedere. Afterwards, Rose wished that she had remained looking at Edith and
not let her attention be diverted; then she might have had an inkling of what
would happen later. But she had been transfixed by the expression on Lady
Belvedere’s face, her eyes wide open, her lips parted and formed into the
letter ‘o’; it was unmistakeable; the countess was in shock.

 

It was apparent to Rose that Lady Withers did not relish the prospect of
having to entertain her sister in the drawing room after dinner with only
herself and Lavinia for company, particularly as it was obvious that the two girls
had had some disagreement.

‘I say, darling, don’t leave it too long before you join us, will you?’
she said somewhat desperately to her husband. ‘I know that you men like to
enjoy your port and cigars and talk about things we women don’t understand, but
I think everyone is rather done in this evening. It must be all that sunshine,
don’t you think? Makes one jolly tired.’

‘Of course, my dear,’ replied Sir William, catching on straightaway and
Rose found she liked him even more because of it. ‘I say, you chaps,’ he said
turning to address the other gentlemen, ‘what say we abandon convention and
join the ladies in the drawing room now?’

The earl and the two younger gentlemen concurred and they all made their
way to the drawing room to take their coffee and liquors. The atmosphere,
however, did not improve, if anything, it seemed more strained.

‘I say,’ said Sir William, just as Rose was thinking that she could bear
it no longer and must think up some excuse to escape to her room, ‘I’ve just
bought a jolly nice pair of antique, Queen Anne, flintlock duelling pistols. I
expect you’ll want to see them, won’t you, Henry, you’re interested in that
kind of thing, aren’t you?’ The earl nodded, looking keen at an opportunity to
leave the room. ‘They’re by Delaney. You too Lavinia, Miss Simpson; they’re
pretty attractive things and they’ve got something fun on the butt caps that I
think you’ll find amusing.’      

In the end everyone followed Sir William to his study, with the exception
of Lady Withers and Lady Belvedere who, feigning tiredness, retired to their
rooms. Sir William went to an alcove at one side of the room and, pulling back
a thick velvet curtain, revealed his gun cabinet, which he proceeded to open
with a key that he took from the breast pocket of his jacket.

‘I say, Sir William,’ exclaimed Lord Sneddon, ‘that’s quite a collection
that you’ve got there. You wouldn’t want them getting into the wrong hands.’

‘Indeed you wouldn’t, which is why I always keep it locked and carry the
key around with me on my person.’

‘Do you keep the ammunition in the cabinet as well?’

‘Yes, I keep it all together under lock and key, can’t be too careful
these days. Right, here we are girls, what do you think of these?
Silver-mounted they are, but what I want to show you is this.’ He pointed out
the butt caps. ‘What do you make of these, they look like some kind of
grotesque mask, don’t they?’

‘Oh, I think they look just like the face of a King Charles spaniel,
don’t you, Daddy? Do come and look too, Ceddie. Do you remember Bouncer? They
look just like him.’

 

Rose made her way miserably up the stairs to her bedroom. She had been
totally humiliated. Not only was Lavinia not speaking to her, but the countess
had taken her aside to tell her that she wished Rose to take a walk with her
after breakfast the following morning. Lady Belvedere had spoken none too
quietly, so that, without a doubt other members of the party had overheard.
With a heavy heart, Rose had shortly after made her excuses to Lady Withers and
left the drawing room. Lavinia was flirting with Lord Sneddon and Cedric had
appeared so deep in thought that she doubted whether either had noticed her
departure. She wondered, not for the first time, how the weekend, which had
started off so perfectly, could have deteriorated so completely. How were she
and Lavinia going to be able to work together on Monday? Perhaps Lavinia would
decide not to come back to the shop, in which case Madame Renard would surely
hold her to blame. Or perhaps, worse still, Lavinia might only agree to come
back to work if Rose was sacked.

‘Well, well, quite deep in thought little Rose and looking so dejected.’
Rose froze. She recognised the voice immediately and it sent a chill through
her.

‘What are you doing here, Lord Sneddon and how did you get here so
quickly? You were busy talking to Lavinia when I left the drawing room.’

‘Yes, you did rather sneak out, didn’t you? But I saw you go and
followed. You stopped to powder your nose, so I took the opportunity to come up
the stairs and wait for you. It’s awfully deserted on this landing, isn’t it?
Only you and Lavinia have your bedrooms on this floor, don’t you?’

‘Lavinia will be wondering where you are,’ said Rose, trying to keep the
fear from her voice, ‘hadn’t you better be getting back to her?’ 

‘All in good time, we’re going to have a little fun first. As to Lavinia,
she won’t notice I’m gone for ages, her mother has collared her for yet another
one of her jolly little conversations.’

‘If you come any nearer to me, I warn you, I’ll scream.’

‘Scream all you like, my dear, there’s no-one to hear you. If you think
that tiresome butler’s going to intervene on your behalf again, then I’m afraid
you’re sadly mistaken. He’s in the housekeeper’s sitting room talking over the
day with a glass of sherry, I checked; a cosier picture you couldn’t imagine.’
He moved out of the darkness and advanced towards her. 

‘No, please don’t –.’ Rose turned and looked down the stairs. She would
never be able to outrun him, he would catch up with her before she was halfway
down. She wondered if she had the courage to throw herself down the stairs,
surely it would be a better fate than the one that awaited her. She clutched
the banister, hesitating; she was afraid she hadn’t the nerve. This gave Lord
Sneddon the opportunity to grab her arm and twist her around to face him.

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