Read The Cavendon Women Online

Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

The Cavendon Women (9 page)

Daphne turned, glanced at the door as it opened. There was a sudden flurry of activity as Hanson swept into the yellow drawing room, leading his team.

Right behind him was Gordon Lane, now the senior footman, accompanied by Ian Melrose, the second footman, and Jessie Phelps, the head housemaid. The three of them were pushing tea trolleys laden with finger sandwiches, scones, strawberry jam and clotted cream, and all of the usual fancy buns and cakes.

“A sight for sore eyes,” Hugo murmured. “I've been so busy today I've worked up quite an appetite.”

“I know, so have I. But mostly I just want a good cup of tea,” Daphne said.

Miles, who had been talking to Lady Gwendolyn, now walked over to join Diedre, who was sitting with Cecily. “I'm sorry about that, Ceci,” he said quietly. “I hope you didn't get upset.”

“No, I didn't. But what your aunt did do was alert me, and I hope you, too. We'll have to make sure she doesn't do anything to upset Charlotte and your father at the dinner tomorrow, or even worse, create some sort of scene in the church on Sunday.”

“You're right on target. We'll keep a sharp eye on her.”

Diedre said, “She's preposterous, not to mention stupid. What in God's name did she think she could achieve by making those awful comments?”

“Let's just dismiss it now, and put it down to dim-wittedness,” Miles said. “She's always been somewhat stupid, in my opinion.”

“That's right,” Diedre agreed, and rose. “I'm going to sit with Great-Aunt Gwendolyn. I want to speak to her about something, if you will excuse me.”

Once they were alone, Miles took hold of Cecily's hand, and to his surprise and pleasure, she didn't pull it away. She simply looked at him, her eyes questioning.

“There's something I need to ask you,” he said, and paused, hesitated, looking uncertain about continuing.

Cecily remained silent, hoping he wasn't going to talk about something personal … about them and their relationship.

After a moment, Miles plunged in. “Look, DeLacy really wants the two of you to become friends again. She's genuinely missed you over the years, Ceci. And she's ready to apologize. Will you accept her apology?”

Cecily didn't answer at first, and then finally she said, “We can be friends again, of course. It's silly to hold grudges, and of course I'll accept her apology. But there is just one thing, Miles … I do work. Very hard and long hours. Just so long as she understands this, and that I won't always be available.”

“I'm sure she will. I'll make sure she does.” He squeezed her hand, and then let go of it. She had a sudden look of discomfort on her face, and he realized that it wasn't going to be easy, winning Ceci back into his arms.

A moment later, Dulcie came and flopped down in the chair next to the sofa. She grimaced. “If Aunt Lavinia dares to make another rotten comment, I promise you I'm going to grab the first cream bun I see and shove it in her mouth. If that doesn't shut her up, I don't know what will.”

Cecily began to laugh, and so did Miles. Glancing at Cecily he said, “Don't think Dulcie's joking, because she isn't.”

“Of course I'm not joking,” Dulcie assured them, frowning, wondering why anyone would think that. She always did what she said she was going to do. She was an Ingham, after all. And Ingham women especially always stood up to be counted.

 

Thirteen

The house was still. So quiet, Cecily was alarmed. She stood in the small entry foyer, her head cocked, listening for sounds of life.

Nothing stirred. This worried her. Her aunt had not looked well earlier, rather tired, worn-out, actually. She hoped Charlotte had not collapsed, taken to her bed.

Cecily had come over to her house to help her try on the last of the clothes she had brought from London. That was an exhausting exercise, fitting frocks and outfits, and she hoped Charlotte was up to it.

Cecily walked toward the sitting room when she heard noises on the floor above and stopped. “Are you up there, Aunt Charlotte?” she called, and immediately began to climb the stairs.

Charlotte appeared on the landing, looking down at her great-niece.

“Cecily! I didn't expect you until later.”

They hugged when Cecily stepped out onto the landing, and then they went into Charlotte's bedroom together.

Cecily noticed the photograph in the silver frame at once. It was of David Ingham, the fifth earl, for whom Charlotte had worked from the age of seventeen until his death. She had been his personal assistant.

Over the years their relationship had grown much more personal, although they had been so discreet nobody knew for certain if they were lovers or not. Except for the Swanns, who were aware of everything that went on at Cavendon.

The frame on the bed was next to a number of leather-bound notebooks and a pile of legal documents. Instantly Charlotte noticed a peculiar look on Cecily's face, and followed the direction of her gaze. She asked, “Why are you so interested in David's photograph?”

“I was wondering why you have it in your bedroom. After all, your fianc
é
might find it strange, having his father's image staring back at him all the time.”

Charlotte burst out laughing. After a second, when her hilarity had fallen away, she said, “It's usually locked up in a drawer. But I've been making a special list for you, and the code number for my main safe is on the back of his picture. That's why it's here.”

As she was speaking, Charlotte took the photograph out of the frame, and showed Cecily the number neatly written on the back. “This is the combination for the big safe, where I keep my jewelry and those documents.”

Reaching for the list on the bedside table, she gave it to Cecily. “I just added the number here. And by the way, those are some of the record books. They are kept with many others in the second safe. I've been rearranging them, putting them in order in that particular safe.”

Cecily nodded, glanced at the list. “And what are these other numbers?”

“I'll explain the list later. I want to tell you something else. When I die, you will take my place and keep the record books. Until you die. Before that happens, you must designate the person who will replace you to keep the records.”

Suddenly troubled, Cecily asked, “What's wrong, Aunt Charlotte? Are you ill?”

“No, I'm not, don't be so silly.”

“Then why are you talking about wills and dying, when you're about to get married?”

“You of all people should know how practical I am. I want my affairs in order before I marry Charles. Also, we are going abroad, we'll be traveling, and I am fifty-eight years old. So just in case—”

“Just in case what?” Cecily interrupted sharply.

“Don't get het up, Ceci dear. I'm perfectly well, and fit, and sound of mind. However, I do have quite a few possessions, such as this house, jewelry David bought me over the years, certain investments he made for me. I just want everything to be quite clear to you. I'm not going to die for a very long time, I promise you.”

“I'll hold you to that.”

“I won't let you down. But nobody knows what's going to happen from one day to the next. We are not in control of life. Life controls us. We have to handle what befalls us the best way we can. And hope and pray that it comes out right in the end. Remember this, Ceci.”

“I do take what you say seriously, I do listen to you,” Cecily reassured her.

Picking up one of the notebooks, Charlotte opened it at a certain page, and handed it to Cecily. “Please read this particular entry.”

Staring at the page, Cecily read the words which had been penned in a beautiful copperplate handwriting.

In mine own hand, July 1876.

I loveth my ladie. Beyond all.

The swann fits the ingham glove tight.

I have lain with her. She is mine.

She gives me all. I got her with child.

Oh our joy. The child dead in her belly.

Destroyed us. She left me.

She came back to me.

My nights are hers again.

'Til the day I die. M. Swann

Still holding the book, Cecily gazed at her aunt. “That's so sad … they lost a child.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “Do you know who the person was? The man who wrote it? The Swann?” She was intrigued, curious as well as touched.

“I think so, but only because of the date. I believe it was Mark Swann who wrote it, the father of Percy. He was head of the family at that time. Obviously I have no idea who the Ingham woman was. For obvious reasons, he didn't write her name in the notebook. Protecting her. At least that's my opinion.”

“Why did you show me this entry?”

“For the same reason I told Charles about it a few years ago. I wanted him to understand that there is something mysterious, yet inevitable, about the Inghams and the Swanns being together. I wanted
you
to understand that, too.”

Cecily's dark brows drew together in a frown. “I'm not sure I'm following you. What do you mean?”

“I have been involved with two Ingham men. One died. The other I am about to marry. And what about you and Miles?” Charlotte paused for a second, and gave Cecily a penetrating look. “You and Miles have been extremely close since you were children. And I know you love each other.”

“Yes, it's true,” Cecily admitted, having denied it for years.

“And there hasn't been another man in your life, has there?”

“No. I'm far too busy working. I don't have time.”

Charlotte bit back a smile. “You're in love with Miles,” she said again. “Other men don't interest you, hold no attraction for you.”

When Cecily was silent, Charlotte asked, “Am I not right?”

“You are,” Cecily answered in a low voice.

“And he's in love with you. I believe that's one of the reasons his marriage failed. Clarissa played a role, of course. She wasn't a good wife. And she never conceived. Anyway, this is the point … he'll come after you, Ceci. Be prepared. That's the way the Ingham men are. With
us.
They just won't let go.”

Cecily sighed. “He told me this morning that he is going to ask for a divorce. He said he hoped we could be together once he was free, because he loves me.”

“And how did you answer?”

“I told him I didn't know how I would feel. I really meant that, Aunt Charlotte. I don't believe I can go back to him. Ever. He hurt me so much. I can't forgive him. Or ever forget his
treachery
.”

“Oh, darling, it wasn't treachery,” Charlotte said softly, her heart aching for Cecily, knowing how she had suffered. “He had to do his duty as the heir. Whatever his feelings were for you, he had to put them aside. He had no alternative.”

“You're defending him!” Cecily pursed her lips and gave her aunt a hard and knowing stare.

“No, I'm explaining to you what Miles Ingham faced.
It was his duty,
” she emphasized again. “He had to marry her, produce an heir.”

“And once he's free, he'll have to do his duty again! Marry an aristocrat, beget an aristocratic heir. The earl will see to that,” Cecily shot back vehemently.

“No, no, that won't happen,” Charlotte replied. “I promise you. Very recently, I reminded Charles about that entry you've just read, which fully illustrates how long these liaisons have gone on. Over a hundred years. I told him he had to agree that Miles must seek a divorce. That is an imperative. I also explained that he could not interfere in the relationship which Miles most likely would have with you later. And the world has changed radically, which Charles accepts.”

Genuinely surprised by this statement, Cecily just sat there gaping at Charlotte, rendered speechless for a few moments.

And then it hit her. “
You
did this, didn't you?
You
put us together this weekend. It was
you
who told the earl Miles and I worked well with each other, that we should handle everything. The events. Any problems or trouble that might arise.
It was you, Aunt Charlotte. You manipulated all of us.

Charlotte shook her head. “No, I didn't. What I did was arrange a situation in which you and Miles would be helpful to us if anything went amiss. And at the same time I knew it would give you both a chance to connect again.”

“You're splitting hairs.”

“Maybe I am. But I've watched Miles in his awful misery for six years. Very painful to witness. And I've seen how you work and work and work. To counteract your own sorrow and loneliness. You're both broken. I hoped I could help to mend the two of you somehow.”

When Cecily remained silent, Charlotte went on quietly, “Well, I suppose I am guilty as charged. Still, there's no getting away from the fact that Miles must produce an heir for Cavendon. And the only woman he wants in his bed is you. And that's that.”

“You've put me in a terrible position!” Cecily protested.

“No, I haven't, and actually you are holding all the cards, if you think about it. I really do believe you have the winning hand. However, let's move on. I need to continue about my will. You are my main heir. Harry is my only other heir. I've looked after him, so there's nothing to worry about. I've left my house to the two of you. However, I have also left all of my shares in Cecily Swann Couture to you. It is your business, and you should own it fully.”

“Thank you, thank you very much, Aunt Charlotte. But what about Aunt Dorothy? She had some shares.”

“Not many, and I bought her out recently. And she was happy to sell. You don't need any partners. Always remember that. Anyway, they're a nuisance in the long run.”

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