The Silk Vendetta (23 page)

“I remember. It was because Charles shut you in the mausoleum. So he was here tonight?”

“Yes. He’s apparently a friend of Julia’s.”

“How strange! But I suppose it is not really. Julia knows so many people. She’s bound to meet everyone sooner or later.”

When we reached home I told Grand’mere of the encounter. She always liked to hear how the evening had gone.

“I was so surprised to see him,” I said.

“You recognized him then?”

“Oh yes. He is the sort of person one would. There was something about him. Do you remember how proud Charles was because he had deigned to spend the holiday at The Silk House? That was what made what happened so awful.”

“I wonder if you will see him again,” said Grand’mere, looking at me intently.

“He said he would call,” I told her. “With Julia.”

He did call—and with Julia. Grand’mere and Cassie came out to meet him and I introduced him to the Countess.

“Isn’t it odd to see Lenore here like this?” said Julia. “Who would have believed it all those years ago?”

“We have all changed since those days,” I reminded her. ”Would you like some coffee? We very often have it at this time of the morning.”

“Yes please—and I should like to see everything.”

”Oh Drake,” cried Julia. “You’re not interested in fashion.”

“I’m interested in Lenore,” he said.

“It is rather marvellous,” commented Julia, “to think they have done all this.”

“Very clever,” said Drake, smiling at me.

Grand’mere was welcoming.

“The Countess of Ballader brought me out,” said Julia.

“I’ve given up those activities now,” the Countess told him. “This is more to my taste.”

Cassie said she would go and make the coffee.

We sat in the reception room with the red carpets and white furniture—chosen by the Countess who said we must have an aura of luxury about the place.

I found Drake’s eyes on me. I guessed he was comparing me with the frightened little girl who had been locked in the mausoleum.

“And how is business?” asked Julia.

“Flourishing,” said the Countess.

“Well, your gowns are absolutely the latest thing,” replied Julia. “I was talking to Lady Bronson only yesterday and she said she had misguidedly bought a new dress … not a Lenore … and, my goodness, she realized her mistake.”

“Let us hope,” put in the Countess, “that she has the good sense not to repeat her folly.”

“I want a new morning gown,” said Julia. “I’ll look round while I’m here.”

We talked lightly. Drake told us about his place in the country. “It’s quite a small manor house. It’s been in the family for years. My aunt lived in it, but she died a little while back and it seems ideal for me because of its geographical situation.”

“Very fortunate that it should be so near your constituency,” I said.

“Couldn’t be better. My place in Town is very small. I get down to the country when I can.”

“It must be fascinating to be at the heart of affairs,” I said. “We just read about them in the papers whereas you are on the spot.”

“It is what has always fascinated me. I was amazed when I got in first time. That was a bit of luck. I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

”That’s the secret of success in life,” added Grand’mere, ”to be in the right place at the right time.”

“It happens so rarely,” I added.

“And when it does we should be grateful. I seized the opportunity with both hands.”

“When would you like to select your gown?” the Countess asked Julia.

“Why not now?” asked Julia.

“Come. I will take you round.”

Julia left with the Countess, and I felt more at ease when she had gone. There was something about her attitude to Drake Aldringham which disturbed me. I fancied she was watchful of him and of me when we talked together.

“You are a Liberal,” I said when she had gone, “so at the moment out of power.”

“We shall remedy that at the next election.”

“And then Mr. Gladstone will return to office. Will it be for the third time?”

“For the fourth.”

“He is getting rather old, is he not?”

“He is the greatest politician of the century.”

“The view of the faithful follower! I believe there is one in a very high place who would not agree with you.”

“You refer to Her Majesty, the Queen.”

“I am right to do so, am I not?”

“She is a lady with firm fancies and prejudices. Unfortunately she had one of the latter against Mr. Gladstone.”

“Wouldn’t that affect his position as Prime Minister?”

“Of course. I cannot understand why she is so much against him.”

“I suppose we are all drawn to some people and feel an antipathy towards others.”

“Do you?”

“I like most people, but there are some whom I could never like.”

I was thinking of Charles. Even before the mausoleum incident I had felt uneasy about him.

“Mr. Gladstone is not exactly a courtier in the sense that Lord Melbourne was. The Queen, as a girl, was absolutely devoted to him.”

“And later to Disraeli,” I added.

“I could never understand that. But he had a way with words.”

“Hasn’t Mr. Gladstone?”

“As an orator… not as a flatterer. Gladstone is a great man … and one who will put his political future in jeopardy for the sake of what he believes to be right. Such men are rare.”

His eyes shone with enthusiasm. I liked his zest. I was finding it a very interesting morning.

Grand’mere said we must excuse her as she had something important to do. She said to Cassie: “I shall need you.” And that left me alone with Drake.

We talked naturally and easily. I told him about the shop and how I had no wish to remain at The Silk House—a widow with a child to care for. I had longed for independence and the time had come when it seemed advisable to move. “So I sank my capital in the enterprise.”

He listened intently. He asked no questions about Philip’s death, for which I was grateful. I told him how difficult our start had been and how alarmed we had become at one stage until the Countess came to our rescue.

He said: “This business means a great deal to you, doesn’t it?”

“It’s our livelihood.”

“But it is more than that, I fancy. It represents freedom and something you have always wanted to prove.”

“What is that?”

“That a woman can do as well as a man.”

“I hadn’t thought of it, but I suppose you are right.”

“I know. You hate injustice. You seek the truth. You want hard logic to prevail.”

“I suppose that is so.”

“I share your view. That is why I am in Parliament. I want justice … for everyone. I won’t subscribe to a point of view because it is the accepted one. I will stand out for what I believe to be right. That is what Mr. Gladstone is doing. He has become very unpopular over his Home Rule for Ireland bill. That was what let Salisbury in with the Conservatives at the last election.”

“I find it all fascinating,” I said.

“We must meet sometimes, so that we can talk. I’m in London frequently. What do you say?”

”I should like that.”

“Then we will.”

Julia came back and joined us.

“It really is divine,” she said. “Pale lilac with ribbons of a deeper shade … not quite heliotrope … lavender, would you say?”

“It suits you to perfection,” said the Countess. “I’ll have it sent.”

“You look very earnest,” said Julia, glancing from Drake to me. She seemed surprised to find us alone and I felt I had to explain.

“My grandmother had some urgent work and Cassie had to help her.”

“We have been having an interesting discussion,” Drake told her. “About politics,” he added.

Julia grimaced. “You’ve no need to tell me that. I would have guessed. It’s your pet topic, Drake. You hardly ever talk of anything else.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He looked at me. “I hope I didn’t bore you.”

“Far from it.”

“Lenore is always polite,” said Julia.

“I’m not being polite, only truthful,” I protested.

“Drake is devoted to his leader, aren’t you, Drake?” said Julia.

“For very good reasons,” added Drake.

“It’s a pity some people don’t share your devotion,” said Julia laughingly.

“Many do,” Drake retorted.

“I think a lot of people wonder about those nightly adventures of his,” said Julia slyly.

Drake turned to me. “Julia is referring to Mr. Gladstone’s crusade for the rescue of fallen women.”

“Yes,” said Julia. “He used to prowl about at night looking for ladies of easy virtue.”

“In order to save them,” said Drake quickly. “He is a very good man. Of course he is getting old now, but for forty years he used to go once a week through Piccadilly to Soho and the Thames Embankment which was where such women could be found. He would offer to take them home with him and give them supper and a bed and in the morning he and Mrs. Gladstone would talk to them about their way of life and try to persuade them—and help them—to renounce it.”

“It was a very dangerous sort of philanthropy,” said Julia. “There were bound to be those who suspected his motives.”

“Which makes it all the more noble of him.” Drake turned to me. “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, I do. People are too ready to suspect others and put the worst construction on events.”

I was thinking of those looks which had come my way after Philip’s mysterious death. Why had he killed himself? people wondered. When a man who was recently married did such a thing surely his wife must somehow be concerned.

“Lenore is determined to support you,” said Julia.

“I say what I feel.”

“Well, Drake, I feel we must be going. These are business hours, are they not?”

He stood up and held out his hand to me.

“It has been an interesting morning.” He held my hand firmly. ‘ ‘Au revoir.”

“Where are the others?” demanded Julia. “We must say goodbye to them.”

I called them and they came. We went out to the door with them where Julia’s carriage was waiting.

As we watched them drive away it occurred to me that Julia had displayed an almost proprietorial manner towards him. And they seemed to know each other very well.

I remembered how she had felt about him all those years ago, and how angry she had been with me for being the cause of his departure.

I thought: I believe she is in love with him. She seems softer, different. She was a little in love with him long ago.

“What a charming man!” said the Countess.

“He was very attractive as a boy,” added Cassie.

“I like him,” said Grand’mere. “There is something good about him.” She smiled at me fondly. ”I hope he comes again.”

We had a meeting every Friday evening to discuss the week’s business and talk over any new idea one of us might have. The Countess used to pay periodic visits to Paris. “Paris is the centre of fashion,” she used to say. “We must go there and see what they are up to.”

On one or two occasions Grand’mere had gone with her. The Countess was adept at choosing styles which she wished to incorporate with changes—improvements, she called them; Grand’mere was concerned with the practical side; and she would say if what was suggested was possible.

I was unable to go because I did not want to leave Katie. After these trips Grand’mere always seemed to have been rejuvenated. I suppose a visit to her native land did that for her; moreover, she was passionately interested in fashion.

On this occasion the Countess astounded us with an announcement. “We should open a place in Paris,” she said.

We stared at her. Open in Paris! We were doing very well in London, expanding every year, growing generally, becoming well known in Court circles.

“Well,” went on the Countess, “most of the best houses have something over there. I’d be there most of the time till we’d built it up. I know how to manage that. We’d have the French touch for our clothes over here. ‘This, Madam, has just been brought over from our Paris establishment’ … and so on.”

“And the cost of setting up a place over there?”

“It’s not going to be cheap.”

“And where would we get the money?” asked Grand’mere.

“We’d borrow.”

I flinched and Grand’mere turned pale. “Never!” we said simultaneously.

“Why not?”

“Who’d lend the money?”

“Any bank. We have the security of this place … a prosperous concern.”

“And the interest on the loan?”

”We’d have to work hard to pay it.”

“I was always against borrowing,” said Grand’mere; and I nodded in agreement.

“Do you want to stay as we are forever?”

“It is a very pleasant niche we have found for ourselves,” I reminded her.

“But expansion is the very breath of successful business.”

“I believe there have been occasions when it has been their ruin.”

“Life is a matter of taking risks.”

“I want none of that,” said Grand’mere.

I backed her up in this. The thought of borrowing terrified me.

“How long would it take before a Paris place was profitable?” I asked.

“Three years … four …”

“And all that time we should have the interest on the loan to pay off.”

“We’d manage,” said the Countess.

“What if we didn’t?”

“You are prophesying defeat before we begin.”

“We have to look facts in the face. I could see us ruined and I have a child to think of.”

“When the time comes I want to launch her into society.”

“In the meantime I have to feed and clothe her, educate her too—and that is of the utmost importance to me.”

“You are really rather unadventurous,” said the Countess.

“I call it cautious,” I replied.

“So you are both against me?”

We nodded.

“Well, we shall have to shelve the matter.”

“We’ll do that,” I said.

“Meanwhile,” went on the Countess, “when I am in Paris I will scout round and see what’s to be had.”

“Whatever it is we can’t afford it.”

“You never know,” insisted the Countess.

We went on to discuss other matters.

Grand’mere and I talked about her scheme together when we were alone.