Mistress of Greyladies (14 page)

After that, Corin changed the subject firmly and the noise of the car engine seemed to give them the privacy to chat about themselves.

They stopped once for refreshments and arrived at Bellbourne House Hospital in the early evening.

Corin told the driver to stay where he was and helped Phoebe out himself. ‘I shall know exactly where you are now.’

‘I’m hoping to get a transfer. But if I succeed, I’ll let Beaty know where they send me.’

He took hold of both her hands and pulled her to one side, where they were out of sight of the house and the driver.

He was going to kiss her, she knew he was, and she lifted her face to his without hesitation, sighing with pleasure as he pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t welcome it.

His lips were warm and it was heaven to be so close to him. She didn’t want the kiss to end … but of course it did. At least he was still holding her close. She nestled against him with a contented murmur.

‘Phoebe, dear Phoebe, this damned war means I can’t
even make plans to see you again, but I will manage it from time to time. You won’t forget to write to me?’

‘Of course not.’

‘You’d better send the letters care of Beaty. And I’ll get her to forward mine to you till you settle down somewhere else.’

He put one hand under her chin, and kissed her again. Then he sighed and glanced at his wristwatch, the time showing clearly by the light of the rising moon. ‘I’ve got to go now. Don’t forget me.’

‘How could I?’ She raised her hand to caress his cheek.

‘You don’t pretend, do you?’

‘No. It’s a waste of time.’

‘I don’t like pretending and playing silly word games, either. I’m afraid we won’t have much time for each other, though, till this damned war is over.’

‘We’ll do our best.’

‘Our very best,’ he echoed softly.

She stood at the door leading up to the VADs’ quarters until his car had turned off the drive on to the main road, then went up the rough wooden stairs to face her friends’ questions.

They knew her too well, said she looked like a woman who’d been thoroughly kissed, and wanted to know who the gorgeous officer in the car was.

She laughed at their teasing, feeling on top of the world. Surely Frank wouldn’t find her here. She’d taken great care to keep her destination secret from any but those close to her. He didn’t know Beaty or anyone in her circle.

That was such a relief.

But Corin would know she was here. And she’d be waiting for him.

At Greyladies the weeks seemed to pass slowly as the Latimers waited to hear when the longed-for changes would take place.

But when news came, it wasn’t anything to do with their home.

Joseph received another black-edged envelope and stared at it in dismay, reluctant to open it. Then he muttered, ‘It’s from my mother.’

He looked at Harriet, sitting across the breakfast table from him, waiting quietly. They both knew it could only be bad news.

He slit the envelope with slow care and pulled out the black-edged letter. After reading it quickly, he covered his eyes with one hand, shaking his head slowly from side to side, reluctant to believe what he’d read.

Harriet got up from the table. He felt her stand behind him and lay one hand on his shoulder. He reached up to grasp it, drawing strength from her silent support.

‘Who is it, darling?’

‘Thomas.’

‘Oh, no.’

‘Yes.’ He gulped but didn’t manage to hold back the tears. Well, if you couldn’t weep at the loss of a brother, what could you weep for?

‘How was he killed?’

‘Shot. Died instantly. Only, I’ve heard the patients here talking. The officers always tell the family that the man died instantly and didn’t feel any pain, but it isn’t necessarily true. I pray it was true for Thomas. He was a banker, not a soldier, poor chap. I remember what a demon bowler he was when the boys played cricket. He was a good shot, too, though he didn’t care for hunting. But his quick eye for a ball didn’t do him any good in the fighting, did it? Oh, hell! Thomas dead!’

‘Is there to be a funeral?’ she asked after a while.

‘No. Mother doesn’t even have that comfort. They couldn’t stop the offensive to retrieve the bodies, so had to bury the men where they fell. She’s holding a memorial service
faute de mieux
. I’ll have to attend. Harriet, darling, will you come with me?’

‘Will your mother want me there?’

‘Hang what she wants.
I
need you.’

‘Then of course I’ll come.’

Harriet was always there when he needed her. He had been so lucky to win her love. He kept hold of her hand for a few moments longer, then sighed and began to make arrangements to travel.

They left their sons in Miss Bowers’ care and hired a car to drive them across country, since trains tended to be full of soldiers and not run on time these days. It was only their position as owners of Greyladies, not to mention Joseph’s
problems in walking, that got them the car – with Dr Somers’ help.

‘When you come back, we may have some news for you,’ he said as he saw them into the vehicle.

‘I’ve almost given up expecting anything to happen, Dr Somers,’ Harriet said with a wry smile.

‘Oh, it’ll happen, believe me. Quite soon now, I gather. Definitely before Christmas.’ Dr Somers closed the car door and stepped back, waving goodbye.

When they arrived, Mrs Dalton, who had been staying at the big house with her eldest son to manage the memorial service arrangements, greeted them by bursting into tears and letting Joseph comfort her.

Thomas’s wife stayed in her room, emerging with puffy, reddened eyes and clinging to her own mother, who had come to support her.

They were driven to the village church in two old horse-drawn carriages. Even inside them, their breath clouded the frosty air and the ground seemed like iron. They were digging graves ‘in case’ these days, because there were too many deaths to allow a spell of icy weather to hold up the digging.

The grieving mother led the way inside, supported by her eldest son, who was showing some sense of family loyalty, for once. Selwyn had even refrained from acid remarks about his crippled brother this visit.

He was silent throughout the whole ceremony, not joining in the hymns or the responses, but standing with shoulders hunched, a scowl on his face. Watching him, Harriet thought he might have been handsome when younger, but his face
was now puffy with dissipation and his eyes were bloodshot, seeming deeply sad when he wasn’t being rude to people.

‘This fuss comforts Ma,’ he muttered to Harriet at one stage, waving one hand towards the minister holding the service, then turning to frown at the rest of the family and their friends, who were sitting in black-clad rows at the front of the church. ‘So I let her do what she wanted for today.’

She looked at him in surprise because he didn’t usually bother even to speak to her.

‘This fuss don’t comfort me, though,’ he went on in a low voice. ‘I didn’t get on with Thomas. We’ve hardly spoken a word to each other for years.’ He laughed, but it was an acid spurt of sound. ‘I don’t get on with any of my family, come to that, never have done, as you must realise. They’re a bunch of milksops. No fun at all.’

She didn’t allow herself to comment on that insult to her husband. What was the point with Selwyn?

‘But still … Thomas
was
my brother.’

‘Yes. But you still have two other brothers left.’

He shrugged, his eyes on the empty bier draped with a huge flag, then pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, sighing at what he found.

Once the ceremony was over and they were back at Dalton House, gathered in the drawing room, Selwyn took over Joseph’s wheelchair. ‘Excuse us, Ma. I need a word with Joseph.’

He didn’t wait for her to acknowledge that remark, but began pushing his brother out of the room.

‘Stop. I prefer to walk. I was merely using the chair to have a bit of a rest.’

Selwyn let go and watched Joseph get up and walk out of
the room beside him. ‘Never thought you’d manage to move about this much. Just goes to show: you can’t predict the future. Does it hurt to walk?’

‘It gets painful if I do too much. Which is why I was resting. But it’s just as painful if I do nothing, and let the muscles grow weak. So I walk as much as I can.’

‘Mmm. You never give in to it, I’ll grant you that.’ He led the way into the library, slammed the door shut by kicking it with one foot and gestured to Joseph to sit near the blazing fire. ‘I need a drink. Want one?’

‘No, thank you. Alcohol doesn’t agree with me.’

‘You drew the short straw in our family physically, didn’t you? Or perhaps you’re the lucky one, given this damned war. At least one of us will survive it.’ Selwyn half filled a cut-glass tumbler with whisky and swallowed it in two audible gulps, then set the glass down without refilling it, which surprised Joseph.

‘I haven’t told Ma and I shan’t do till tomorrow, but I’ve volunteered, joined Thomas’s old regiment, actually. I’m leaving tomorrow for training. I
was
in the officer corps at school, but that’s a long time ago.’

‘That’ll devastate her. She’s worried sick about Richard, and he isn’t even at the front.’

‘I know. But I
want
to go to the front. I want to kill Huns. It’s the only thing I can do for Thomas now.’ He looked longingly at the bottle of whisky but made no move to pick it up, going to stand at the window, swaying to and fro as he talked.

‘I haven’t got the brains for desk work. It bores me, anyway. But I’m strong, or I used to be. I’ve been cutting down on the booze for a while now, and I’m getting fitter again. Preparing to join up, d’you see?’

Joseph looked at him in surprise, then wondered why he was surprised. He could see Selwyn fitting into a wartime army. He listened as his brother spoke, sensing that for once Selwyn wanted to talk, to share something. Was that because of the war? Or was it because of the funeral, which had left Joseph feeling deeply sad.

‘I’m going to do my bit. It’ll be better than mouldering away here in the country, avoiding the debt collectors. They won’t dare foreclose on the property of a serving soldier, will they?’

‘I doubt it. What about your wife? Have you said anything to her about this?’

‘No. We were all set to go with the divorce, then she put it off. The idea of a divorce upset her family and they got at her. She agreed to postpone the divorce until after the war. She’s probably hoping I’ll be killed. It’ll save her a heap of money and trouble. A widow is so much more acceptable than a divorced woman, isn’t she?’

Joseph was startled. ‘Is she really that heartless?’

Selwyn shrugged, hesitated, then said in a burst, ‘Yes. But I wasn’t a good husband to her, either. Now, she’s met someone else. And he won’t have to fight. His family is involved in munitions.’

After another short silence, Selwyn looked at Joseph. ‘Thing is, I need your help. I’m leaving tonight, but Ma won’t know what I’ve done till tomorrow. I’ve written her a letter. It doesn’t say what I want it to, but it’s the best I can manage. I never was good with words.’

‘She’ll be upset.’

‘Yes. Can’t be helped, though. Anyway, you’ll be the only son left in England, so you’ll help her, won’t you? She’s not
good with money. I’ve had to slip her a bit extra a couple of times now.’ He let out another of his scornful snorts. ‘As if I’ve got any to spare. But I sold a couple of those mouldy old paintings and that put a bit in the coffers.’

‘I don’t have any money to spare, either. And surely Mother has more than enough to manage on, if she’s careful?’

Selwyn let out a crack of genuine laughter. ‘I’d like to be there if you tried to tell her that and ask her to economise.’ He made his voice go higher and mimicked her. ‘
My dearest, it’s our bounden duty to maintain standards at a time like this
.’

‘Yes. I can hear her saying it. Look, I’ll help her as much as I can from Wiltshire, but I’m not giving her money.’ He’d worked too hard to amass it and provide for his sons’ education and future. He still had only a modest amount by the standards of his parents but he and Harriet weren’t bringing up the boys to expect everything they wanted to drop into their hands. He’d help them train in suitable professions.

Selwyn grunted. ‘Don’t blame you. Anyway, I’ve told my lawyer he can sell more paintings or silver to help her, if he has to, so that’s not on your shoulders. You could move back here while I’m away, y’know. Keep an eye on the old place.’

‘Why? Greyladies is my home now, with Harriet and the boys. We’re still able to live in the old house.’

‘Strange business, that, changing your name. Still, you got a nice house and an adequate income out of it, didn’t you, even if you had to marry a servant to do it?’

‘If you say one word against my wife, I’ll leave this house and never speak to you again.’

Selwyn shrugged. ‘Didn’t mean to upset you. She’s all
right, really, your Harriet. She don’t look like a servant, either. Quite pretty. And got a bit of sense in her head. Don’t gabble on at you, like most females do.’

If this was meant to be a conciliatory speech, it wasn’t a good one. Joseph decided that his feelings towards this brother hadn’t changed: he disliked Selwyn as much as ever. ‘Is that all you want to talk about?’

‘Not quite. If I get killed, this place will go to Richard. If he hasn’t found someone to marry, you’ll have to nudge him into doing it and producing an heir. Pity
you
aren’t the next in line. You’ve already managed to father two sons who aren’t cripples. But we have to do this right, follow the traditions. Next son gets his chance and all that.’

He began drumming his fingers on the small table next to him. ‘Strange thing is: Richard don’t even seem to notice other women since his wife died. Ma says he’s grieving. What the hell for? His wife didn’t seem anything special to me. Colourless. Not even pretty, like yours. Damn! I can’t remember her name even.’

‘Diana.’

‘Yes, that’s it. She must have been good in bed, I suppose, for him to miss her so much. He only married her for money, after all.’

Joseph waited, biting back angry words because it never did any good to reason with Selwyn.

‘I’ve made a will. Left everything to Richard, as I said.
I
ain’t going to marry again, that’s for sure. It’s horrible to see the same female across the breakfast table every day, to listen to her nagging and going on about boring women’s stuff. So … if anything happens to me, you’ll nudge Richard into marrying again. All right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Promise.’

‘I promise.’

‘Good. That’s sorted out. We can go and join the others. Tonight will be my last time on duty as master of the house for a good while, and thank bloody goodness for it. What a bore living in the country is! Give me town life any day.’ He stared round with loathing.

Joseph waited, but Selwyn offered no more confidences.

This was as close as he’d ever come to understanding what motivated his eldest brother. What little there was to understand. Selwyn might have a big, strong body, but he didn’t have much of a brain.

Heaven help Dalton House if Selwyn survived the war. There would be nothing to leave to Richard.

That night in bed, Joseph went over his conversation with his brother so that Harriet would understand the situation.

‘Selwyn wasn’t here very often when I was a maid. He was nearly always in London. So I don’t know much about him. But the other maids didn’t seem nervous when he was around. When some people were staying, the housekeeper always reminded us to lock our bedroom doors at night.’

‘It was another world, that one, and my family acted as if it existed only for our sort of people, didn’t they? That’s changing quickly.’

‘Yes. Your mother was finding it hard to get servants even before the war. And talking of the war, I was reading a newspaper article prophesying that women will get used to working like men do, with weekly wages in hand, and every Sunday free. It said they won’t want to go back into
service. That’ll cause a lot of letters to the editor.’

He considered this, head on one side. ‘I think whoever wrote it was right.’

‘There was a man’s name, but it sounded more like the way a woman talks and thinks. I hope women do get better chances of education and jobs in future. I didn’t at all want to go into service. I was so excited when I won a scholarship to train as a teacher, but my father wouldn’t allow it.’

He reached out for her hand. ‘Well, you got me instead. I hope I make up a little for your disappointment.’