The Legacy (33 page)

‘Freddy, or His Lordship, as he is now, wouldn’t stand up in court because of the possible scandal, but the gossipmongers would like to know just how familiar he is with David’s wife. I saw him, saw him with Lady Primrose, she doesn’t love David …’

Sir Charles replaced his monocle and sat down, interrupting Evelyne’s bitter tirade. ‘Lady Primrose Boyd-Carpenter? Getting me rather confused, my dear. Now repeat what you just said with a little logic so I can piece it all together.’

Evelyne felt as if Sir Charles’ magnified eye was boring into her as she repeated her story yet again. He threw back his head and roared with laughter, which took her completely off guard.

Dewhurst carried in the telephone from the study, trailing the long cord. ‘Mr Smethurst for you, sir, I apologize for interrupting but it is long distance and rather urgent.’

Smethurst was very pleased with himself, so far the story Freedom Stubbs had told him was checking out. The killings that had taken place in Cardiff could not have been committed by their client. In each case he was in another town, and in two instances he was actually in a boxing ring. Sir Charles replaced the receiver. It was more’important than ever that Evelyne’s story checked out one hundred per cent. ‘Now you are sure, absolutely sure, that David Collins’ wife is having some sort of liaison with Lord Freddy, yes? Am I right, yes?’

Evelyne bit her lip. Never one to gossip, she hated the sound of her own voice saying it. ‘Lord Freddy was engaged to Lady Primrose before David. After the war, when David came home, they married and had a son, but David had changed, and Freddy and Primrose were friendly even then. Now, well, I have seen them being very familiar actually in the tea room here at the Grand.’

‘Good God, the tea room, well, well.’

She felt he was laughing at her primness, but the next moment he opened his wallet. ‘I want you to purchase a very special evening gown. It’s essential that you look absolutely stunning. Off you go, and remember, a stunning creation, I think something green to go with your colouring.’

He didn’t even look at the amount he had given her, just handed her three notes. They were five-pound notes, and Evelyne didn’t know what to say. Dewhurst ushered her out of the suite, and Sir Charles got to work immediately, making calls to Lady Primrose and to Freddy Carlton.

Ed rushed in, looking crestfallen. ‘Gor blimey, I just ‘eard, not one of them toffs will admit to even being at the fight, that’s our defence up the spout, ain’t it?’

Sir Charles covered the telephone with his hand. ‘Ed, my old chum, don’t be such a defeatist, do you really think I would give up so easily? You know the Wheeler family has relatives all over England, rather distant, of course, but I intend to pull family strings.’ He listened to the telephone. ‘Yes, dearie, I’m still here … oh, thank you.’

Ed sat on the edge of his seat.

‘Hello, my dear gel, is that Primrose? Why, it’s Charlie, yes, I am in town … oh, only just arrived; goodness, it must be so many years … how’s your mother? Oh, she is? So sorry …’

Sir Charles appeared to be in the throes of one of his usual social calls so Ed made for the door, but Sir Charles stopped him.

‘Ed, pass the word to Miss Jones that she is to be here in my suite prompt at nine o’clock, not a minute before, thank you … Hello, Primmy? You still there?

Ah, now then, I know it’s short notice, but could you make it this evening? Oh, splendid, splendid.’

Finding no answer at Evelyne’s door, Ed went down to reception and left a message for her - nine o’clock sharp, not a minute earlier or later. They were to dine in Sir Charles’ suite. Just as he was licking his lips at the thought of a nice, frothing beer, he was called back to the desk. Sir Charles wanted him to collect a small package from a local jewellery store.

Freda had not been one hundred per cent certain about the gown, and nearly fainted at the price tag, but Evelyne was sure, and she bought it.

‘Oh, Evelyne, I could make it for a quarter, no a tenth of the price, I could, I really could.’

The pair returned to the hotel, exhausted, and Evelyne collected her keys. As she read the message she turned to Freda in horror. ‘It’s tonight, the dinner’s tonight. Oh, Freda, I’ll never be ready!’

As tired as she was, Miss Freda worked on Evelyne like a little beaver. She laid out the long satin gown, the white gloves and the tiny, embroidered handbag. Evelyne sat in front of the dressing-table mirror in a pure silk underslip, and Miss Freda began to brush her hair, which fell to below her waist. Freda had to get down on her knees to brush out the ends. They had shampooed and scrubbed the hair until, when dry, it shone like gold.

A tap on the door sent Evelyne rushing this way and that as she was nowhere near ready. ‘Who is it? I’m not dressed!’

‘Miss Jones, it’s me, Ed, I got somefink for yer from Sir Charles, it’s just for ternight, ‘e says, but for you ter use it.’

At Evelyne’s nod Miss Freda opened the door, peeked round it and took the parcel from Ed. As she shut the door he tapped again.

‘It’s Miss Freda, ain’t it? Evelyne said you was helping her, like, are you available ternight for a few drinks, there’s a good dance hall wiv a band?’

Blushing and tittering, Freda said she would be delighted.

‘Oh, Evie, I have a date myself, now I have to rush … Oh, my hair, oh, my dress … Oh, can you manage without me, darling? Oh, he said to give you this, for tonight, from Sir Charles.’

Not two minutes ago Freda had been too exhausted to move. Now she leapt about like a young girl.

Evelyne was delighted to be left alone. She opened the brown paper and looked at the leather case, then inched open the lid and gasped. It contained a necklace of diamonds and emeralds with matching bracelet and drop earrings.

At eight o’clock sharp Dewhurst ushered Lord Frederick Carlton into Sir Charles’ suite, accompanied by what Sir Charles at first presumed was his mother, only to discover it was his wife. The short, squat, dumpy woman wore a frightful dress, and more diamonds than the royal jewels.

‘Freddy, old boy, how delightful to see you, come in, come in, and Dewhurst, champagne immediately.’

The champagne, well chilled and in tall, fluted crystal glasses, had just been served when Dewhurst announced David Collins and Lady Primrose. Freddy blushed, not expecting to see them, and quickly rose to his feet. David was obviously slightly drunk, but even so he looked as handsome as ever. He wore the new-style dinner jacket, but then he would, he had always been obsessed with fashion. Lady Primrose wore the latest fashion, a very short sequinned dress with a small cloche hat to match. The sequins on her dress were rose pink at the top, shading down to almost plum colour at the hem. She wore dark velvet slippers with a small heel, and fine silk stockings. She looked stunning, more beautiful than Freddy had ever seen her. His heart lurched inside his chest, and he had to gulp champagne to stop himself shaking.

Sir Charles went straight to Lady Primrose and called her ‘Primmy’, kissing her affectionately on the cheek, then took her hand and guided her into the room.

‘Do you know my cousin Lady Primrose? Yes, I’m sure you do, and her husband, David Collins?’

Dewhurst slipped in and out serving champagne and then passed a trayful of tiny squares of crisp brown toast topped with caviar. He squeezed the lemon himself to ensure that none of the guests had to get their fingers sticky. Tiny lace napkins were placed on knees, everyone smiled and gradually the atmosphere relaxed.

Lady Primrose gave David a slight warning look as she saw him accepting another glass of champagne. They had had the most awful row earlier about his drinking. If it wasn’t his drinking, it was his erratic, often violent moods. He had even accused her of telephoning Freddy when it was Sir Charles on the phone. He was jealous, and with such tantrums he exhausted himself. He had become more like a child than ever. She hoped he would behave himself this evening, Sir Charles being her mother’s sister’s son, and so immensely rich. She wanted at all costs to keep on the right side of his family. Their own finances were being depleted fast. One day she might have to turn to Sir Charles for assistance.

David leaned back on the velvet sofa and crossed his legs. He always felt a flicker of irritation when he was announced as Mister David Collins. He was, after all, a captain, not that anyone ever remembered or gave him his rank. How he would have loved a title; still, he hadn’t done too badly, he was married to one. He gave Freddy a shifty look. Rather be married to Lady Primrose without a lot of cash than be married to the homely Heather, fortune or no. He could see that Heather was wearing a couple of hundred thousand pounds around her squat neck.

Sir Charles was the perfect host, giving his complete attention to his guests. He made each one feel like the most important person in the room, but somehow he seemed to ignore David, laughing and joking intimately with Primrose, chatting about the times they had met as children. ‘Remember, Primmy, the day I beat up that stable lad? Gawd, it was funny, even funnier now to think I am so closely associated with boxing. Do you ever go to any of the matches? Jolly good sport, not that the ladies enjoy it of course, it’s very much a man’s game.’

Sir Charles caught a slight look of panic passing between David and Freddy. He gestured to Dewhurst to refill the glasses and stood with his back to the fireplace. Freddy still sat about ten inches away from his dumpy wife, his eyes constantly straying to Primrose, who was being delightful, telling a witty story about the time when she drove to London to be presented at court. As she spoke her head shimmered and glistened with sequins. She took a cigarette and placed it in a long holder, and Freddy leapt to his feet with his lighter. He touched her hand slightly and she quickly withdrew it, promptly moving across the room to stand closer to Sir Charles who took out his fob watch and told them they were waiting for his special guest and then they would dine. He had ordered dinner to be served in his rooms, if that suited everyone. They could adjourn to the ballroom for more champagne and a twirl round the dance floor after dinner. Lady Primrose began to giggle and display her new dance steps. Her movements were beautifully co-ordinated as she danced the Charleston.

Sir Charles took the opportunity to cross the room and stand by David looking down at him and murmuring that he must get his tailor’s name, he liked the cut of David’s trousers. He studied this handsome man, noticing the slight, nervous tremor of his hands. ‘You were cavalry, weren’t you, Captain? Yes?’

David’s hand tightened on his champagne glass and he pursed his lips.

‘Your chaps had a bad time of it, heard your regiment was one of the first up front, dreadful carnage. I was lucky, they started bringing in the vehicles by the time I made it over there. Bit of shrapnel in the eyes, that’s why I have to wear this, but I was one of the lucky ones.’

Primrose could also see the signs - David’s face had paled, and his whole body was shaking slightly. She danced over to Charles and tried to change the subject. ‘When are you going to get yourself married, Charlie? You’ve been on the society lists as a catch from the early days.’

Sir Charles laughed his wonderful, infectious giggle. ‘Never found the right one yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still huntin’, ya know.’

Primrose sat next to David and gripped his hands, whispering for him to hold on, not to start it here, not tonight.

‘Good heavens, Charlie, aren’t we ever going to dine?’

As if on cue there was a tap on the outer door, and Sir Charles checked his watch. Exactly nine o’clock.

‘My last guest, and then dearest we will dine immediately.’

Dewhurst opened the door. The whole party turned expectantly. Sir Charles took a fraction of a second to realize that this really was his little Miss Jones before he leapt to attention and bowed, his hand out to draw Evelyne into the room.

Dewhurst had not given her a second glance when he opened the door, which deflated her a little. ‘Miss Evelyne Jones, Sir Charles.’ Sir Charles greeted her with his arms open wide. ‘Well, my dear, do come in, I am so thrilled you could come … now, let me introduce you … Lord and Lady Frederick Carlton … my cousin Lady Primrose … and her husband, Captain David Collins.’

Freddy had the most awful sick feeling in his stomach, but he swallowed, forcing a smile. He should have known something was up, but all he did was bow and gesture for his wife to step forward.

Heather was so nervous she didn’t recognize Evelyne immediately, but as she came closer to shake hands her piggy eyes widened in amazement. ‘Oh, but we’ve met before.’

Sir Charles gave one of his infectious laughs, and turned to Primrose and David. ‘Isn’t she stunning? Quite beautiful, absolutely beautiful, my dear. Now, give me your hand and I think if you don’t mind Evelyne dearest, we shall go in to dine straightaway.’

David bowed low over Evelyne’s hand, she could smell his lavender perfume and his silky hair was the same as ever. He had not recognized her.

‘Where on earth did you find this stunning gel, here in Cardiff?’

Already guiding Evelyne towards the dining room, Sir Charles was holding her hand tightly, giving her great comfort. ‘Oh, I thought, dearest, you said you had once stayed with David, in his father’s house, am I wrong?’

She looked directly at David and saw awareness dawning. For a moment he looked panic-stricken, flicking nervous eyes towards his wife, but she was laughing with delight at the elaborate dinner table.

‘Oh, Charlie, you are so clever, what a delightful table … oysters, too! Oh, you are such a delicious man, you really are.’

Sir Charles seated everyone, putting himself at the head of the table and David on Evelyne’s left. He still held her hand. Suddenly Sir Charles leaned so close she could feel his breath. ‘My dear, you have surpassed yourself, you look like a queen. I shall not leave your side. Quite, quite lovely.’

David could not take his eyes off Evelyne, he was confused, trying hard to collect the jagged pieces of the picture which were gathering like a storm in his head. She was dazzling; could it be that funny girl, could it really be that girl he had taken to the fight that night? Her cheeks were flushed, the rest of her pale skin translucent. Her dark eyes, like the sea, looked even more green because of the rich colour of her satin gown. The emeralds and diamonds glittered, but it was her hair that outshone everything, like gold, so simply done, a single braid to below her waist.