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Authors: Margaret Addison

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‘This is your room, Rose,’ said Lavinia stopping at the door to one of
the bedrooms, ‘it’s called the Snug, because I’m afraid it’s rather small, but
it does have the advantage of being next to mine. My room’s called the Silk
Room and I always stay in it when I visit, even though normally there’s plenty
of room for me to have one of the bedrooms on the first floor if I wanted, but
I love having a floor to myself and there’s a great view of the gardens.
‘Hopefully we won’t be bothered too much by my mother. She and Daddy are bound
to have been given rooms on the first floor next to Uncle William’s and Aunt
Constance’s. I expect that they’ll put Cedric and Lord Sneddon on that floor
too; the bedrooms are far grander than the ones on this floor and they’ve all
got dressing rooms.’

Rose was surprised to find that not only had her suitcase been brought up
to her room, but it had also been unpacked and her clothes hung up in the
wardrobe, and her toiletries laid out on the dressing table. Lavinia had
followed her into her bedroom and had opened her wardrobe and was leafing
through her clothes with interest. Lavinia paused when she came to Rose’s
black, silk velvet evening dress and scrutinised it; Rose had wondered at the
time whether her friend considered it too plain, later she thought Lavinia had
just been relieved that it had not outshone her outfit.   

‘Of course, it’s an awful bore Mother being here,’ Lavinia said finally,
perching on Rose’s bed. But I’m jolly well going to make Cedric keep her
occupied. I don’t know how he could have been so stupid as to let her know that
we’d be coming to Ashgrove this weekend. He must have known what she’d do.’

‘I don’t think she likes me very much,’ Rose sighed and sat down on the
bed beside her friend.

‘My mother doesn’t like anyone very much,’ admitted Lavinia with surprising
conviction, ‘not even me, her own daughter. You mustn’t take it personally,
Rose. I would be far more concerned if she liked you. Why on earth my father
ever married her, I can’t imagine, although she was very beautiful when she was
young, and rich, of course, both her and Constance. But Daddy and she have
absolutely nothing in common. They hardly see anything of each other, he’s
always shut up in his library with his books or in his study tied up with
estate affairs and my mother’s busy with her fund-raising efforts and lecturing
our poor vicar on how he should be dealing with the poor, most of whom she
thinks are quite undeserving. If only Daddy had married Aunt Connie instead.
I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded a bit about me working in a shop for a bet,
she would have seen it as a bit of a lark.’

‘You’re fond of your father though, aren’t you, Lavinia?’ Rose, who
adored her own mother, could not bear the idea that Lavinia should not be fond
of at least one of her parents.

‘Daddy’s an absolute sweetie, what Cedric and I see of him anyway, but
that’s not much as he always shuts himself away. I think he’s a bit of a
recluse. How on earth my mother managed to persuade him to come down to
Ashgrove, I can’t imagine. Oh, if only he wouldn’t let my mother walk all over
him all the time, if only he’d stand up to her once in a while. I’m sure if he
did, she’d be so much more bearable, she’s too used to getting her own way.’

Rose suppressed a grin; the same could be said of her friend.

‘Oh, I suppose we can’t put it off any longer, we’d better go down.
Hopefully Aunt Connie will be there and Daddy, of course. I’d like you to meet
him.’

 

‘Oh, there you are at last, Constance. Wherever have you been, you can’t have
spent all that time dead heading roses,’ Lady Belvedere sounded quite annoyed.
‘And do tell me you’re going to change. It really would be too much if you come
to luncheon dressed liked that.’

‘Naturally I’m going to change,’ retorted Lady Withers, looking quite red
in the face, whether as a result of her efforts in the garden or because she
was put out by her sister’s comments, it was hard to tell. ‘But may I remind
you, Marjorie, that this is my house and if I choose to lunch in my gardening
clothes, then I will.’

‘Now, now,’ said Sir William trying to smooth things over. ‘Stafford will
be in here any minute with the sherry and he tells me that Mrs Palmer has put
on a very good spread for lunch, quite excelled herself, I believe.’

‘Well, that wouldn’t be difficult,’ replied Lady Belvedere, ‘her
cooking’s not up to much at the best of times. If she’s excelled herself this
time, it will just mean that it’s just about acceptable, certainly nothing to
write home about.’

Unfortunately, while Lady Withers just stood there gaping in amazement
and Sir William chose to ignore this slight on his cook’s culinary skills, his
butler chose this very moment to enter the room; although his face remained as
impassive as ever, the faintest of twitches revealed to Sir William that he had
heard Lady Belvedere’s unkind remark and Stafford, he knew, was not a man to
take insults to the staff lying down.       

 

Lunch was something of an uncomfortable affair for Rose as she was faced
with a vast array of cutlery and courses. Rather to her surprise, she noticed
that the women, in particular, tended to eat only small amounts of each course
and she followed suit, determined not to look out of place.  She wondered
what happened to the food that was left on the plates, whether it was thrown
away, or resurfaced in the servants’ meals or even in later dishes for the
household. Fortunately, she had found herself next to the kindly Sir William
who asked, with what appeared to be genuine interest, after her work in the
dress shop. He in turn gave her a potted history of Ashgrove House and also
described the grounds. Lady Belvedere, she was relieved to see, was seated at
the other end of the table so Rose was subjected only to the odd contemptuous
look from the countess, who clearly disapproved of her presence in the house.
Lavinia, who was seated next to her mother and so was suffering the full force
of her conversation, was looking distinctly irritated and miserable in equal
amounts, and trying with much endeavour to ignore what Lady Belvedere was
saying, by concentrating her attention on playing restlessly with her napkin.

The Earl of Belvedere had joined the party very late, just as they were
about to receive their first course. This in itself did not seem to surprise
anyone other than Rose. It appeared that Stafford had been sent to prise Lord
Belvedere out of the library and he had entered the dining room looking
slightly disorientated, as if his mind had been left behind in the books. He
had seemed surprised to see his daughter, as if he had forgotten that she would
be there, but equally he looked pleased in a quiet, reserved manner. Following
introductions, he had acknowledged Rose with a smile and Rose had felt kindly
towards him, perhaps more so than was strictly warranted, because of the relief
that she felt at his appearing to be nothing like his wife. In appearance, he
was very similar to Sir William, in that he had similar colouring, was about
the same age with the same style trim moustache and like Sir William was
wearing a tweed suit. It was only after the meal, when the two men had risen,
that Rose saw that the earl was taller than Sir William by a head or so, and
somewhat slighter in build.

After lunch, it appeared that Sir William had important correspondence to
deal with in his study and that Lord Belvedere was keen to return to his books.
Lady Withers made a half-hearted attempt to engage all the women in
conversation, but failed spectacularly as Lady Belvedere cut her dead with a
glance and demanded the use of her morning room for half an hour or so in order
that she could continue her one-sided conversation with her daughter. Lavinia
initially looked minded to refuse to go with her mother, but then seemed to
think better of it, as if it was best to get it over and done with as soon as
possible so that she could get on with enjoying the weekend. She gave Rose a
resigned look and followed her mother out of the room.

‘My sister really is too bad,’ said Lady Withers, looking after the
retreating figures, ‘if only she’d leave poor Lavinia alone and stop trying to
dictate to her all the time. Then the poor girl wouldn’t feel so obliged to
constantly rebel. I do so feel for Lavinia. William and I, not having been
blessed with children of our own, have always rather thought of Lavinia and
Cedric as our son and daughter, rather than as our niece and nephew. Oh, I was
so hoping that we’d all have a nice quiet weekend together. We do so like
meeting Lavinia’s friends, but I’m afraid my sister does have a tendency to
spoil things. She was just the same when we were children, always bossing
everyone around, determined to get her own way.’

‘I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time, Lady Withers,’ replied Rose
feeling rather awkward that Lady Withers had spoken to her so frankly. ‘Sir
William was just telling me over luncheon all about your lovely gardens. It
would be so wonderful to see them, if you don’t mind, of course. It’s so nice
to be out of London and such a wonderful sunny day.’

‘Of course, my dear, I don’t suppose you’re used to seeing such things,’
replied Lady Withers, looking relieved and proceeding out of one of the French
windows. ‘I expect that you live in a ghastly little house with absolutely no
garden to speak of. If we just go along the terrace here we’ll get to the rose
garden and then I’ll take you to see the other gardens. They are rather
beautiful I can tell you, although, of course, I know absolutely nothing about
flowers or gardening really. We’re so fortunate to still have Bridges; you
won’t believe how many families around here have lost their gardeners. They
went off to war and never came back, or those who did decided that domestic
service was beneath them. Yes, I suppose we are lucky, really, what with having
Bridges and Stafford and Mrs Palmer. Perhaps it’s going to be all right after
all. Perhaps I was wrong when I thought that something dreadful was bound to
happen this weekend.’

Chapter Seven

 

‘It’s no use, Mother, I’m not going to -,’ began Lavinia, as she followed
Lady Belvedere into Lady Withers’ morning room and closed the door behind her.

‘Oh, do be quiet, Lavinia,’ said her mother impatiently, turning around
and giving her daughter such a glare that the words froze on Lavinia’s tongue,
and she was forced instead to give her mother her full attention. ‘I am tired
of this. In my day girls were always obedient to their parents’ wishes.
Nowadays young people seem to think that they know best; in that, I can tell
you, they are very much mistaken. You are not going to go back to that awful
little dress shop and that is that; there is no discussion to be had on the
matter. If necessary, I’ll  see to it that your father stops your monthly
allowance and that you remain a virtual prisoner at Sedgwick until you learn
some sense and do as you are told.’

‘Father would never allow -.’

‘Oh, don’t talk nonsense, Lavinia, you know full well that your father
will do exactly as I say. We both want to do what is best for you even if you
yourself are quite determined to ruin all your chances. But enough of this,
we’ll talk about all this shop nonsense later. What I really want to talk to
you about now concerns a chance to redeem yourself.’

‘What do you mean, Mother?’ Lavinia found that she was curious despite
herself.

‘Constance tells me that Cedric is expected down this weekend. And if he
comes down, it’s highly likely that he’ll bring Lord Sneddon with him. You must
make the most of this opportunity, Lavinia, while their friendship is still
strong. When else are you going to find yourself the only eligible woman at a
house party where the heir to a dukedom just happens to be present? You know as
well as I do, that even for a woman like you with every privilege and beauty,
the only way to true freedom is through an advantageous marriage. If you
continue to behave in the way you have been, shut away in your dress shop and
attracting all sorts of the very wrong kinds of people, you will deter any
appropriate suitors. This weekend you will act demurely and do everything in
your power to secure Lord Sneddon’s affections. It can’t be a hardship for you
after all. Why, there must be a hundred aristocratic young ladies who would
give anything to be in just such a position. And besides, Lord Sneddon has the
additional benefits of being young and handsome. What more can you ask for,
Lavinia? Do not disappoint me.’  

‘Very well, Mother,’ said Lavinia, secretly very pleased that for once
her mother’s wishes mirrored her own. For, ever since she realised Lord Sneddon
might be joining them, she had been busy planning how to secure the marquis’s
affections in the snatched moments between being lectured to by her mother and
entertaining Rose.          

‘It is a pity that you brought that girl with you,’ Lady Belvedere was
saying, ‘she’s bound to be an unnecessary inconvenience and an absolute embarrassment;
her sort of women always are, they always think they are above themselves but
they don’t know how to behave in our sort of company. Did you see the way she
simply stared at the dishes we had for luncheon? She’s probably never seen so
much food, for one moment I thought that she was going to try and eat it all
and then lick the plates clean!’

‘You’re being very unfair, Mother,’ replied Lavinia, suddenly feeling
defensive of her friend, not least because she was feeling rather guilty having
been half wishing herself that she had left Rose in London this weekend so that
she could give Lord Sneddon her undivided attention. ‘She knows exactly how to
behave in company, or I wouldn’t have brought her with me. Her family has
simply fallen on hard times, that’s all. Why, if her father was still alive,
she wouldn’t be forced to go out to work at all.’

‘Even so, she’s hardly from our class. However, it could prove to be a
blessing in disguise,’ admitted Lady Belvedere rather grudgingly. Seeing the
bewildered expression on her daughter’s face, she went on to explain. ‘Well,
fortunately she is a very plain creature which by comparison will only help to
accentuate your looks. And I expect, if her present attire is anything to go
by, that her clothes will be cheap and a little vulgar. What a pity you didn’t
know Lord Sneddon was going to be here and then you might have packed some of
your finest gowns and diamonds.’

‘Well, actually, I did, Mother’, admitted Lavinia rather sheepishly. ‘I
wanted to impress Rose; she’s only seen me in those awful shop clothes.’

‘Excellent, that’s my girl,’ said Lady Belvedere grinning with obvious
delight; it was not a pretty sight.

‘It’s a pity Edith is going to be here,’ said Lavinia more to herself than
to her mother, ‘although I suppose Aunt Connie will keep her occupied. She’ll
probably wonder about in the gardens daydreaming and go to bed early, thank
goodness, her sort always do. I just hope that she doesn’t behave all silly
over Cedric again, it was too embarrassing last time. If you had been there,
Mother, you’d have been absolutely horrified.’

‘Edith?’ said Lady Belvedere sharply. ‘Edith Settle, that was? Edith
Settle is coming to Ashgrove
this
weekend?’

‘Yes, but she’s Edith Torrington now, Mother. I think she married a bank
manager or someone like that. She quite often comes to stay with Aunt Connie. I
think Aunt feels sorry for her, you know, after everything that’s happened to
her. It is rather sad, after all. I suppose we should be charitable….’

‘Edith is coming
here
?’ Lady Belvedere repeated the question
slowly to herself and seemed suddenly oblivious to her daughter’s
presence. 

Lavinia eyed her curiously, somewhat alarmed, for she was not used to
seeing her mother behave in such a way.

‘What is it, Mother? I know it’ll be a bit awkward and we’d both rather
she’d not be here. But she is an old friend of Aunt Connie’s and Aunt’s bound
to occupy her and keep her away from Cedric. I bet Constance’s as worried as we
are that there might be a repeat performance of Edith’s behaviour the last time
she laid eyes on Cedric. I’m sure she’ll do everything in her power to prevent
it from happening again. She’s probably roped in poor old Stafford and Uncle
William –.’

‘Be quiet, child, let me think,’ snapped Lady Belvedere.

‘What about, Mother? I’m sure everything will be all right. I know Aunt
Connie is a bit absentminded and flaps around a bit, but I expect between her
and Uncle William they have got everything sorted out. I know you’ve never
liked Edith very much and I have always wondered why, what with you all being
at school together when you were young and everything.’

‘What makes you think I don’t like Edith, Lavinia?’ the countess said
sharply, eyeing her daughter suspiciously, as if she thought she might have an
ulterior motive for saying what she had done.

‘Well, I don’t know exactly, I just well assumed you didn’t, Mother,’
replied Lavinia, beginning to feel uncomfortable under her mother’s unflinching
gaze. ‘I mean you never speak of her, or ask her to stay, even though she is
some sort of distant relative of ours and quite poor in comparison to us. Why
else would she have married a bank manager of all people?’

‘You’re right, Lavinia,’ said her mother, noticeably relaxing a little.
‘I didn’t like her very much when we were children. Her family hardly had two
pennies to rub together and yet she was always going about giving herself airs
and graces and saying as how we were all related and so must be friends. You
know what Constance is like. She was totally taken in by her. I think she felt
rather sorry for her even then, even before … but I could see right through
her, I can tell you, I knew exactly the type of person she was and what she was
after right from the start.’

‘And what was that, Mother?’

‘What?’ Lady Belvedere looked up quite startled.

‘What did she want? What was she after?’

‘Oh … em, well nothing, nothing important anyway,’ replied the countess,
hurriedly and she started to change the subject, reprimanding Lavinia again for
working in the dress shop and bringing ridicule on her family. But her
reactions had not been quick enough, for Lavinia had caught a look on her
mother’s face, and although it had been there very briefly, seconds at most,
she recognised it for what it was. It was a look that she had rarely, if ever,
seen before on her mother’s face. And as she tried to take in its significance,
for she was both shocked and surprised in equal measure, she was sure of one
thing. The look she had caught on her mother’s face, brief and fleeting though
it had been, had been one of fear.

 

‘Well, Miss Crimms, do we know what the situation is with regards to our
guest’s dress?’ enquired Stafford accosting the lady’s maid once the dishes and
the remains of food had been cleared away from the dining room, and the
presence there of the butler and the footman was no longer required. ‘Has
Spencer had time to unpack the luggage and go through Miss Simpson’s wardrobe?’

‘Indeed she has, Mr Stafford, and I made sure that I was on hand to look
through Miss Simpson’s clothes with her myself. Martha, as I’m sure you’re
already aware, Mr Stafford, is going to have to act as lady’s maid to both Lady
Lavinia and Miss Simpson on top of her usual duties as upper housemaid; I
myself am going to have my hands full, I can tell you, standing in for Lady
Belvedere’s lady’s maid. Why the countess couldn’t bring her own lady’s maid
with her, I can’t imagine.’

‘I’m sure you’ll manage very well, Miss Crimms, although I know Lady
Belvedere can be very exacting. It’s probably just as well that none of the
guests have brought their servants with them, as there may have been a shortage
of accommodation and certainly it would have been very cramped in the servants’
hall, to say nothing of all the additional cooking the kitchen and scullery
maids would have been required to do on top of helping Mrs Palmer prepare the
dishes for the household. It’s unlikely Lord Sedgwick will bring his valet with
him, or Lord Sneddon, if he accompanies him; Albert will have to double up as valet
to both the young lords and Briggs will have to valet for Lord Belvedere as
well as for Sir William.’     

‘It does seem an awful lot of additional work, Mr Stafford, if only we’d
been given a bit more notice, we could have brought in some help from the
village.’

‘I am sure her ladyship feels the same,’ replied Stafford, ‘she was given
very little warning herself.’

‘Oh, and I almost forgot Mrs Torrington, I suppose I’ll have to act as
lady’s maid to her too, although perhaps Martha and I will be able to do her
between us, because if I remember rightly, she’s very undemanding.’

‘We were talking about Miss Simpson’s wardrobe, Miss Crimms,’ reminded
the butler, feeling that the conversation had been allowed to digress somewhat.

‘Oh, indeed,’ replied Miss Crimms, enthusiastically. ‘Well I’m pleased to
say that it won’t be necessary to raid her ladyship’s wardrobe or bring a hot
iron into play, Mr Stafford. Miss Simpson’s wardrobe seems quite appropriate,
very proper; in fact one might even go so far as to say it’s a little boring
for one so young. Why, I could see her ladyship wearing Miss Simpson’s evening
gown, black silk velvet, it is, a little old and a trifle worn in a couple of
places, I’ll admit, but it’s quality dressmaking all the same.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Well, that’s one less thing to worry about, Miss
Crimms. Right, I think we’d better get back to our duties, we have more than
enough to be getting on with.’

 

Lavinia left her mother on the first floor landing and made her way down
the grand wooden staircase. Lady Belvedere had claimed to be tired after her
journey and wanted to have a rest before Cedric joined them, although her
daughter thought it more likely that she had wanted to be alone so she could
think.

Lavinia pondered over the look that she had seen on her mother’s face. It
had crossed her face only fleetingly, but Lavinia was sure that she had not
been mistaken, that for one brief moment Lady Belvedere had revealed she was
afraid. And if her mother was frightened, then so was she. Much as she disliked
her mother and was constantly anxious about causing her displeasure due to the
inevitable unpleasant consequences of such an action, she was confident of her
mother’s authority, which conversely she found rather reassuring in that, by
association of being her daughter, she felt herself comfortably safe.

It seemed to her incredible that her mother could be afraid of Edith
Torrington, a mere distant relation who was poor in comparison with the
Belvederes. She led a different life from them and mixed in different, lesser
circles; not only that, she was so pathetic, so insignificant, and yet it had
been the mention of her name that had caused the look of fear to cross Lady
Belvedere’s face, Lavinia was sure.

It occurred to her then that she did not really know very much about
Edith. She had met her occasionally at Ashgrove if their visits happened to
coincide. However, Edith had tended to keep herself very much to herself on
those occasions, withdrawing from the body of the group to sit on the edges.
Then Lady Withers would whisper, none too quietly Lavinia always thought, and
cringed least Edith heard, that they must be kind to her after everything she
had been through, after her great tragedy. And even Lavinia, who always tended
to think of herself before others, was hushed into obeying because it all
seemed so awful somehow, that something so terrible could have happened to
someone so insipid.

As she entered the drawing room where she had expected to find Rose, she
looked out of the French windows and saw that her friend was walking amicably
through the formal gardens with Lady Withers who, every now and then, was
pointing out a flower-bed or shrub that she thought might be of interest to her
guest. Even from where she was standing well inside the room, Lavinia could
just make out her aunt’s vague, rambling words as they carried on the wind. It
seemed to be very much a one-sided conversation with little opportunity given
to Rose to contribute, for Lady Withers did not pause for a moment for breath.
Lavinia laughed. How very typical of dear old Connie, she never changed,
nothing ever seemed to at Ashgrove. With that thought she ran to join them and
forgot all about her mother being afraid. It was only later that she
remembered.

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