“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 fiancé 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.”
“You’ve never been a nuisance,” Cecily pointed out softly, having regained her composure.
“Thank you for saying that. I’ve tried to stay in the background.”
There was a moment of silence, and then Cecily said, “You have some dresses to try on, you know.”
“Let’s lock up the record books and the documents, and then I will concentrate on my trousseau, I promise. Later I’ll explain further about my will, and several other things.”
Fourteen
Diedre enjoyed her early-morning walk to Little Skell Manor, which took her through the park at Cavendon, past the lake where the two snow-white swans floated together in contentment.
She paused for a moment, watching the swans, remembering that they mated for life. If only she had been able to do that … she pushed sorrowful thoughts to one side, and moved along the path at a steady pace. Put the past behind you, she reminded herself.
At one moment, she lifted her head, glanced up at the sky. It was a clear blue on this sunny Saturday morning, and she hoped the good weather would last. She wanted it to be a perfect day tomorrow for her father’s marriage with Charlotte.
How glad she was he had taken this step at long last. There was not a single doubt in her mind that Charlotte would be a wonderful wife … she had actually been exactly that for many years, without the benefit of a legal document.
Diedre had felt the warmth and love of her father, Miles, and her sisters last night at the family dinner. It had been like old times, and she had realized how much she had missed everyone.
Funny, she thought now, how we become so entangled in our everyday doings, consumed by our worries and problems. Selfish really, not giving a thought to others.
She aimed to make amends, to stay in touch with her sisters, most especially DeLacy. It had struck her last night how fragile DeLacy was, nervous, on edge. She had asked Miles if their sister was all right, at one moment after dinner. Miles had said DeLacy was unhappy about the divorce, yet could not live with Simon. Their married life had been full of terrible quarrels and violent upsets that had inevitably torn them apart in the end.
Diedre focused on Miles, who had also been unlucky in love. If he’d ever loved Clarissa, that is. Duty had been at the root. What rotten luck that Clarissa had not produced an heir. On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. Miles had confided to her that he was going to seek a divorce. Far better in this situation that there were no children involved.
Daphne’s been the luckiest, Diedre thought, her mind suddenly settling on her sister’s adorable and beautiful children. As for Dulcie, she has her life ahead of her. “I’m going to take her under my wing. I’m determined to make up for the way I treated her when she was a child,” she muttered to herself.
Deep inside she was still ashamed of the way she had behaved.
As she walked up the garden path to Great-Aunt Gwendolyn’s house, Diedre managed to empty her mind of these thoughts, and endeavored to concentrate on what she had to say.
One thing she did know; she could not waste her great-aunt’s time. She wouldn’t sit still for small talk, always needed to get to the heart of the matter. And immediately. Gwendolyn Ingham Baildon was clever, a smart woman who was blessed with great intelligence and practicality. Diedre thought she had the most wisdom of anyone in the family.
Having always been drawn to her aunt, Diedre had realized as she grew older that they were somewhat similar in temperament, and was well aware she had inherited Lady Gwendolyn’s penchant for bluntness and acerbity.
Lifting the brass hand knocker on the front door, she banged it once. Almost instantly the door was opened to reveal Mrs. Pine, Lady Gwendolyn’s longtime housekeeper, standing there.
Smiling, greeting Diedre warmly, Mrs. Pine led her through the front hall and into the parlor. This attractive room, filled with mellow antiques, comfortable sofas and chairs, had two large mullioned windows which overlooked the gardens. The latter were beautiful, and had been lovingly cultivated by Harry Swann until he had become Miles’s right hand, learning estate management with him.
Her great-aunt was sitting on a sofa, waiting for her. “There you are, my dear,” Lady Gwendolyn exclaimed, “punctual as always. I do like that characteristic in people. Those who arrive late are thoughtless. They’re stealing one’s time, don’t you know.”
Diedre nodded. “That’s correct. And thank you for agreeing to see me this morning.” She bent over and kissed her aunt’s cheek.
“I’m happy to have a little private visit with you, Diedre. Do sit down, my dear, don’t hover.”
Taking a chair next to the sofa, Diedre said, “I want to be very forthright with you, Great-Aunt. And I’m well aware you prefer to understand a problem immediately. So, no wasted time, I promise.”