The Marriage Wheel (15 page)

“
Oh, I don
’
t know.
”
Electra had caught sight of the flowers on the dressing-table in her room, and she dived on them and inhaled the perfume of the roses that Lucille had carefully picked for her, and a little of her criticism faded for the moment. She beamed at Lucille, and declared she always had loved those deep, mauvish-red roses that seemed to be dying out nowadays.
“
But you must admit it is Mr. Lestrode
’
s house, and as master in his own house he has the right to do whatever he thinks,
”
she could not refrain from impressing upon the housekeeper.

Lucille
’
s pale skin warmed, as if her resentment was getting slightly out of hand, and she made for the door and said in a muffled voice as she did so:
“
If there
’
s anything else you require you must let me know. We
’
re a little short on some things, but we
’
ve plenty of essentials,
”
and she descended to the kitchen regions with the flush still in her cheeks.

Frederica joined her as soon as she had seen her mother and sister settled. She was perfectly well aware that Lucille was upset, and she hardly knew what to say to soothe her.

“
Your mother is very attractive, and very
young
,”
Lucille emphasised.
“
But I hope she won
’
t be staying here long! I—I find her a little difficult to get along with!
”

Frederica said hurriedly that few people ever took a great deal of notice of what her mother said. For one thing, she didn
’
t always mean what she said herself, and could change her attitudes like the wind in an astonishingly brief space of time.

“
Besides, she
’
s rather excited at coming to stay here,
”
she added defensively.
“
It
’
s rather gone to her head.
”

Lucille, flitting about the kitchen preparing the lunch, paused long enough to send a sudden, rather curious glance at her.

“
You honestly think that?
”
she asked.
“
Knowing your mother
—and
your sister!—you honestly think it
’
s excitement and nothing else that is causing them to behave offensively?
”

“
What—do you mean?
”
Frederica asked, helping herself to a stick of celery and beginning to nibble it thoughtfully.

Lucille looked almost pitying.

“
You
’
re so nice yourself,
”
she said,
“
and so utterly unlike those relatives of yours. But it does seem that you
’
re a bit dense! Rosaleen is already as good as established here, and your mother knows it! Only last night Mr. Lestrode let me into a secret, and the secret is that he
’
s going to be married one of these days quite soon!
...
and one doesn
’
t have to have all one
’
s i
’
s dotted and all one
’
s t
’
s crossed before gathering that the lady of his choice is Miss Rosaleen Wells!
”

Frederica stared hard at her.

“
And you?
”
she asked.
“
How—what—do you feel about it?
”

The housekeeper looked even more surprised.
“
What am I supposed to feel about it?
”
she counter-questioned.
“
You
’
re not imagining that I
’
m terrified of losing my job, are you?
”

“
But isn
’
t this
...
rather more than a job to you?
”

Lucille smiled slowly, and then handed Frederica another stick of celery.

“
Chew that,
”
she advised.
“
It
’
s supposed to be good for quite a lot of things, including rheumatism. But what you
’
re suffering from at the moment is not rheumatism, but slightly muddled thinking. You
’
ve made up your mind I
’
m in love with Humphrey, and that I
’
m hoping one day he
’
ll take some real notice of me, and marry me! Aren
’
t you? But it so happens I
’
m not in the least in love with him, although I do hold him in very high regard
...
and I
’
d hate to see him make a mess of his life by marrying your sister!
”

Frederica studied her in disbelief.

“
But I was absolutely certain—
”
she began.

“
I know.
”
Lucille attacked the salad bowl with determination.
“
But I didn
’
t want to disabuse you, because it didn
’
t seem to me necessary—until your mother and sister arrived on the scene. Humphrey knows perfectly well that when I leave here I
shall
go and work for children, in some capacity or other, and I
’
m really only staying here until he gets married. I
’
ve often been afraid that it might be ages before he made up his mind, but now all at once his mind has been made up for him! The fair Rosaleen has worked swiftly, and possibly quite without subtlety, but she
’
s hooked her man nevertheless!
”

Frederica stood staring down into the salad bowl—such an attractive salad bowl, with rings of cucumber and tomato and lettuce and chives, that Lucille was arranging as if she was giving all her attention to a work of art—and for the first time in her life quite a shattering sensation of dismay took possession of her. She actually felt as if some personal disaster menaced her own life, and that no
thing
would ever be the same again because the world had turned upside down. All the highlights were low-lights, and there was a dreadful feeling of emptiness ... a quite extraordinary sensation of actual deprivation.

She lowered the remains of the stick of celery she had been chewing, and dropped it distastefully into the rubbish disposal unit. She eyed the array of cold cooked meats on the kitchen table, the potato salad, the fresh salad, the fruit salad that would be later served with ice-cream in the dining-room, the coffee-tray that was all ready to be carried into the dining
room, and the knowledge that it was her mother and sister for whom all these baked meats and trimmings were prepared—as well as, of course, Robert Rawlinson, whom she had not yet met—repelled her to such an extent that she actually felt physically revolted by the sight of so much food.

In addition she felt a burning sense of shame because her nearest and dearest were so blatantly out for what they could get.

“
I don
’
t want any lunch,
”
she said in a choked voice.
“
I
’
m going up to my room!
”

Lucille called after her in a kindly voice.

“
I
’
ll bring you a cup of tea.
”

“
No, thank you!
”
She raced out of the kitchen and up the back stairs, and very nearly collided with the elderly, urbane, comfortable-looking man who had come all this way to meet his old friend Electra once more, and spend a pleasant weekend with her, and successfully reached her own bedroom without having to submit to some obvious flatteries on the subject of her likeness to her mother—which didn
’
t really exist—and far more truthful comments on the lack of likeness between her and her sister Rosaleen, whom Robert Rawlinson had already met. For although she and Rosaleen shared the same colouring only one of them was a beauty—and that was Rosaleen!

And even the thought of Rosaleen was anathema to her at the moment.

She had already made up her mind that while her mother and sister were staying in the house as the guests of her employer she would refrain from joining them in the dining-room during meal times. After all, when they were not there she had her meals in the kitchen with Lucille
...
and what was good enough for Lucille was good enough for her.

But she hadn
’
t bargained with Humphrey Lestrode
’
s insistence that she joined them in the drawing-room after dinner. Apparently he accepted it that she felt happier in the kitchen with Lucille while the others lunched and dined in a fair amount of state in the dining-room, waited upon by Lucille, who didn
’
t seem to feel at all humiliated by the task. But like the children of a household who played in the nursery during the daytime she was to be invited down to the drawing-room when the others were relaxed and ready for her.

At first, she rebelled so forcefully that Lucille had some difficulty in persuading her she would draw more attention to herself, and make herself look rather foolish and obvious, if she sent back a message to her employer to the effect that she preferred her own room to his company, and the company of his chosen guests. So, declining to make any special concession to the occasion by changing into one of her prettier and more formal dresses, she went down after Lucille had argued with her for a full half-hour wearing one of her slim grey uniform dresses, which caused Electra
’
s eyebrows to ascend quite noticeably when she saw her in it, and Rosaleen to smile as if amused.

Robert Rawlinson, on the other hand, was as urbane and affable as she had suspected he would be, and only Humphrey Lestrode himself looked rather grim and displeased.

“
You are not on duty tonight,
”
he snapped at her.
“
Couldn
’
t you dress yourself up in something different to that?
”

“
Why?
”
Despite the uniform dress—which she had carefully pressed before she put it on—she was looking very cool and composed, and exceptionally attractive if Rosaleen hadn
’
t been there to direct any admiring glances away from her.
“
Is this some special occasion? You should have made it clear that you wanted me to dress myself up, Mr. Lestrode, when you sent your message that I was to come down and join the rest of you, and I would have done the best I could to make myself look really presentable.
”

“
Ha, ha!
”
Robert Rawlinson, in an expensively tailored dinner-jacket and soft frilled shirt-front, smoking a most impressive cigar which filled the drawing-room with a delicate aroma, seemed to think her reply was witty enough to call for some sort of a response from him, even if it didn
’
t draw many smiles from his host.
“
You have your mother
’
s spirit, young woman,
”
he told her, as if he was conferring an accolade.
“
I remember Electra was always very apt with repartee, weren
’
t you, Electra? And if you
’
d been paid to drive Humphrey about in one of those glossy cars of his you
’
d probably have done the very same thing that your daughter has just done tonight, when summoned to his presence! You
’
d have let him see that you were a girl of spirit, and that you didn
’
t personally think he was doing you many favours by employing you.

“
By the way, young lady,
”
turning to Frederica,
“
if that
’
s intended to be a uniform it
’
s very smart! It suits you admirably. I wouldn
’
t mind being driven about by you myself.
”

“
If you
’
re really in need of someone to drive you I suggest you get in touch with the agency who helped me to find Frederica,
”
the host growled with a background of ice in his voice. And because of the manner in which he made use of her Christian name, and the degree of surprise his sudden use of it filled her with, Frederica missed the rather bleak interchange that followed.
“
But I always thought you preferred driving yourself.
”