Authors: Lucinda Riley
On the other hand, if he married Violet, of whom he was fond and who would undoubtedly make Astbury Hall come alive again with her money, personality and social contacts, would it really be such a terrible alternative?
And perhaps, he thought, to some extent Selina had been right; in the few months after the war, he’d been mentally and emotionally ravaged, scarred by the terrible things he’d seen. Sharing that experience with someone who understood had been vital. But in the long term . . . Donald stared out of the train window and asked himself bluntly whether it could really have worked. Had he been living in a fool’s paradise?
He also admitted to himself that he had enjoyed his old world during the past month in London. However shallow it might have been at times, at least he
belonged
in it. He was sure he could never love anyone the way he loved Anni, but who in his class
could
enjoy the luxury of marrying for love? He was certain his parents hadn’t—they’d simply formed a successful partnership.
And he could hardly ask for a prettier bride, Donald reflected as he gazed at Violet across the table in the first-class carriage. It wouldn’t be a hardship to make love to her, surely? There was no doubt he already desired her physically.
Of course, he knew there was every chance Violet would turn his proposal down. He was only one of a number of her suitors, and a virtually penniless one at that.
But by the time the train pulled into Exeter, Donald had made up his mind to ask her.
Over dinner that night, the Drumners talked of their passage home in a week’s time.
“We’ll all be sorry to leave England’s shores. Isn’t that right, Violet?” Sissy asked her daughter.
“Extremely sorry,” said Violet with a sigh. “I seem to have taken to England so well.”
“And England’s certainly taken to you,” Donald heard himself saying with a smile.
Later, over brandy and cigars in the library with Ralph Drumner, Donald girded his loins to say the words he needed to say.
“Mr. Drumner—”
“Please, Lord Astbury, call me Ralph.”
“Then you must call me Donald,” he responded. “Ralph, it can’t have escaped your notice how very fond I’ve become of Violet.”
Ralph raised an eyebrow. “Really? Then, obviously, your relationship has progressed in the past month.”
“Yes, it has,” Donald said in agreement. “Violet is extremely special and”—Donald thought carefully of the right words to choose—“has endeared herself to me in many ways.”
“She is indeed special,” Ralph said, scrutinizing him, “and with a very large fortune to boot. You can understand I wouldn’t want to see my daughter taken advantage of by any man because of it.”
“Of course not,” Donald said hastily, “and I can assure you, it is not in my nature to do so.”
“Even if the Astburys are currently in need of a serious injection of cash?” Ralph eyed him. “Believe me, Donald, I’m not blind, or stupid. I’ve taken the time to look around and seen with my own eyes the amount of money this place needs to set it back on its feet.”
“Ralph, forgive me for saying so, but I’m talking about my feelings for your daughter here, not my financial position,” Donald replied steadily. “In truth, I currently have a buyer for the estate and have seriously been thinking of accepting his offer.”
At this, Ralph looked genuinely surprised. “Really? You’d be prepared to sell your birthright, your own family’s history? This place which, excuse me if I’m wrong, has belonged to your family since the sixteen hundreds?”
“If I have to, yes. At present, it’s a rope around my neck, and if I’m unable to find the financial means to pay off its debts and restore it, I’d prefer to be realistic, have done with it and sell it.”
At this, Ralph was silent and Donald could see he was thinking things through. “Where would you live if you did sell up?”
“I’ve no idea, but to be honest, that’s secondary to making sure myself and my mother, plus any wife I choose to take and the subsequent children we might have, are financially secure.”
“I guess I’ve underestimated you, young man. I spend my days making difficult financial decisions which cannot and must not be affected by emotions. In my experience, I’ve encountered few people who can face these kinds of concerns pragmatically. Especially when they relate to the family home.”
“I can only assure you, Ralph, that I’m visiting Mr. Kinghorn, my prospective buyer, at the end of this week. I intend to give him my final decision then.”
“Which is to sell?”
“Yes,” Donald answered. “Put bluntly, I have no choice.”
“But it will break your mother’s heart if you do, surely?”
“As you yourself said, I can’t allow my emotions to come into it. I must be pragmatic, above all.”
“Have you mentioned this situation to Violet?” Ralph asked.
“No, but I’m presuming that if she wishes to marry me, she’ll love me enough for where we live to be an irrelevance.”
Donald couldn’t help but smile to himself as his comment hit home.
“Of course,” Ralph said after a pause. “Once you’ve paid your creditors, will there be anything left over from the sale of Astbury?”
“Enough to buy a decent enough sort of house in the country and to keep our London place.”
“I see.”
“I’m hoping this should be enough to satisfy your daughter’s future requirements.”
“Do I take it you’re asking for my daughter’s hand in marriage?”
“Yes, though I can understand after what we’ve just discussed that you may feel it unwise to consent to it. After all, I can’t give her what other suitors might be able to.”
“Well, listen here, young man, despite what I’ve just said, even I must realize that money is not the most important consideration here. It’s my daughter’s heart and her future that matter to me. Have you spoken to her of your feelings?”
“No, I felt it was inappropriate until I’d talked to you.”
“Well now, Donald, you’ve sure given me something to think about. But I guess, at the end of the day, it’s Violet’s decision, one way or the other.”
“So, do you give me permission to ask her?”
“Yes. However, I’d prefer you not to mention to her the fact that you’re considering selling Astbury. We both know that won’t be the case if she consents to your proposal. I’m a father, and I want my little girl to have the best.” Ralph drained the rest of the brandy in his glass and looked hard at Donald. “Young man, I have to admit I wasn’t sure about you, but your honesty during this conversation has won me over. I think you’d make a fine husband for my daughter.”
“Thank you, Ralph. I’m happy that you feel that way.”
“I’m happy if my girl’s happy. Now, shall we go and join the ladies in the drawing room?”
Perhaps it was emotional osmosis, but all three women looked up expectantly at Ralph and Donald as they came into the room.
“I’m ready for my bed. Sissy, will you join me?” Ralph said pointedly to his wife.
“Of course,” said Sissy, who kissed Violet good night before she left the room.
Maud also followed suit, wishing both Violet and Donald pleasant dreams.
“So, here we are, then,” said Donald awkwardly when finally they were alone.
“Yes, here we are,” said Violet.
Donald sat down in a chair opposite her. “You know, I was just saying to your father how much I’ll miss your company when you return to New York next week.”
“Will you?” asked Violet, wide-eyed. “Oh, my!”
“Yes, I will. In the past month, you must have noticed that I’ve grown exceedingly fond of you.”
“Well, that’s very sweet of you to say, Donald, thank you.”
“And I was just discussing with your father a way in which I could perhaps persuade you to stay longer.”
“Such as?”
“Well—” Donald took a deep breath. “Violet, I’ll understand if you feel this is an inappropriate suggestion, for I’ve no idea about your feelings for me. But I found that I’ve rather fallen for you. So, I was wondering if I could—er—ask if you wished to be my wife?”
She glanced at him, a glimmer of a smile on her lips. “Donald Astbury, are you trying to propose to me?”
“Yes, and I apologize if I seem a little awkward. Don’t do this sort of thing every day, you know.” Donald took a deep breath and went down on one knee in front of Violet. He took her hands in his. “Violet Drumner, I am asking you if you would make me the happiest of men and do me the honor of marrying me.”
She looked down at him but did not reply.
Feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable in the ensuing silence, Donald continued. “I completely understand if there’s another who has stolen your heart, and I promise I’ll take your refusal like a man.”
At this, Violet threw back her head and laughed. “You mean Harry Charles-worth?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” he replied, not seeing the joke.
“Oh, Donald, excuse me.” Violet tried to compose herself. “Harry has no romantic interest in me whatsoever. In fact, he has no interest in any girl at all, if you understand my meaning.”
“You mean he’s a homosexual?”
“Why yes! Of course. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not to me, no.”
“Well now,” Violet said, regaining her composure, “I’m sure that Harry will continue to be one of my best friends in the future. As a matter of fact, I spoke to him a lot about you.” Suddenly, Violet’s eyes were serious. “He told me that you were a dark horse.”
“Did he now?”
“Oh yes, apparently there was some talk last year in London about you.”
“Really?”
“Yes, something about you having a mystery woman and hiding her away.”
“My goodness.” Donald showed his genuine surprise. “I didn’t realize my movements were so closely observed.”
“Donald Astbury! You’re a peer of the realm, and an eligible one at that. Of course people were watching you. So, before I give you my answer, I want to know whether it was true. Did you have a secret love?”
Donald tried to form an eloquent response, knowing it was essential he do so. “There was someone whom I was close to, yes. But I promise you, Violet, it was all over a long time ago.”
“Are you sure?”
“Completely.” For the first time, Donald actually believed his own words.
“Well, I must say, I’m surprised at your proposal. I had an idea you weren’t interested in me at all.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I mean”—she blushed prettily—“I think you may have realized a while back I was mighty interested in you.”
“Then the question is, are you still?”
“Why, Donald! How can you even doubt it? I feel I’ve done just about everything to show you in the past few weeks. You honestly haven’t seen it?”
“To be truthful, I thought you’d fallen for our friend Harry Charles-worth.”
“No, you goose!” Violet giggled. “I spent most of my time complaining to him about the fact that
you
didn’t seem to notice me. When the whole of London knows how madly in love with you I am.”
“Are you really?” Donald asked in wonder.
“Of course, and I have been since the first moment I saw you walking up onto the terrace in your riding breeches!” She lowered her eyes coquettishly.
“So, does that mean you might consider becoming my wife?”
“Yes. In fact, I’d be awful happy to say yes right now.”
“Then I’m a very happy man.” Donald pulled her to her feet and took her in his arms. “So, if we are to consider ourselves formally engaged, may I kiss you?”
“I think you might, yes, but I do have to ask one thing: do I get a ring?”
“Violet”—Donald was aghast—“I have it upstairs, I can go and get it now. I—”
Violet put a finger to Donald’s lips. “Hush, I was only teasing.”
Donald reached for her lips then, and they were soft and welcoming. He didn’t feel the same urgent passion that he had for Anni, but he was gratified by her obvious eagerness. He broke away eventually and tipped Violet’s chin so that he could look into her eyes. “So, shall we tell everyone tomorrow that Lord Astbury has chosen his future lady?”
“That would be wonderful. But I don’t think they’ll be surprised. We ladies presumed the reason you were so long over brandy and cigars tonight with Pa was because you were asking him for my hand. I’ve no doubt my parents will be pleased. My mother knows how I feel about you, and I gather from Pa’s sudden desire to go to bed early tonight that he didn’t pose any objections. And as long as Pa’s happy, I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“Well, then, it looks like I have,” Donald said, smiling at her turn of phrase. He yawned suddenly. “Forgive me, Violet, I feel completely exhausted. It’s probably the tension of having to speak to your father. Shall we retire?” He offered her his hand and she slipped her slim, cool fingers into his. They walked from the drawing room into the main hall and stood together at the bottom of the stairs.
“I can hardly believe that this is to be my new home,” she said in wonder as she looked up at the vast dome above her. “But I do think it could do with a lick of paint, don’t you?” she asked as they walked slowly up the stairs.
“Most definitely.”
“And I’ll bet there’s no proper heating installed, and I’d guess it gets pretty cold here in the winter.”
“Again, you’re right,” he said as they reached the top of the stairs. “Good night, then, beautiful Violet.”
“Good night,” she said quietly, and then turned away to walk along the corridor to her bedroom.
Donald turned in the opposite direction to go to his. Once inside, he sat down on the narrow bed and stared out of the window into the moonlight.
“Anni, wherever you are, please know I’ll love you forever. Forgive me.”
Then he put his head in his hands and wept.
30 September
V’s “folks,” as she calls them, are about to return to New York. Daddy Drumner has to get back there for business reasons—presumably to count his millions. Violet is staying on at Astbury to organize the wedding with Mother. If I was hoping for a quiet affair, I’m going to be disappointed. Anyone would think it was a royal occasion from the numbers V is determined to invite. Thank God Daddy Drumner is coughing up the cost of it for his little girl. Last night, he took me into the library for a discussion . . .