A Death in the Wedding Party (7 page)

‘So she has decided to invite her housekeeper instead?’ Rory’s eyes were flinty hard.

‘No, of course not. She wants me to pretend to be the lady concerned.’

‘You cannot have agreed to such madness?’

‘It was agree or lose my position. Besides, this dinner is a test. If I cannot comport myself properly here Richenda will have to give up her idea.’

Rory gripped me firmly on the upper arms. ‘Are ye telling me the truth? This is no Mr Bertram trying to convince his family that you are worthy to be his wife?’

I broke away angrily. ‘How could you think that after I had accepted your proposal?’

‘Aye, well, a landed gent is a much better prospect than a butler.’

‘I had my chance to marry him before.’

‘And maybe you’re regretting you did not take it.’

‘If you think that then you don’t know me at all!’

‘Euphemia, I forbid you to get involved with this ridiculous scheme.’

‘You forbid it! Who are you to forbid me?’

‘Your affianced husband if you are to be believed.’

‘No man, even my wedded husband, shall ever forbid my actions! My moral conscience is my guide.’ And with that I flounced out of the room.

I regretted much as soon as I left. Not that I would ever allow any man to forbid me. My mother would say it is tiresomely fashionable of me, but I do not intend to ever be any man’s chattel. But I regretted our argument. Richenda had put me in a terrible position and I would have welcomed Rory’s support rather than his suspicion.

An hour with the sarcastic Suzette and a borrowed dress saw me ready to sit down to dinner. The men had been apprised of the plan. When I entered the drawing room, Sir Richard stared at me with his mouth open. Then he gave a bark of laughter. ‘Good gad, sis. If I didn’t know it was our starchy housekeeper I’d never have guessed. You’ve worked wonders.

‘It was Stepmama’s maid. For all her coarseness she is quite a wonder.’

I went and sat very correctly, back ramrod straight, on a small chair near the fire. Mr Bertram brought me a small glass of sherry. ‘You look every inch a lady, Euphemia. Just as I knew you would.’

‘Ah, there he goes again,’ broke in Sir Richard,’ don’t forget little brother, this is all a game. She isn’t one of us and never will be.’

Bertram blushed and turned away from the group. ‘Still got your claws into him, I see,’ continued the hateful Sir Richard. ‘Well, it won’t do my girl. I won’t do. Richenda’s idea is a capital bit of fun for a dull evening, but there is no way one such as you could pass for a real lady.’

Oh the sins of vanity and pride! I had intended to make several mistakes at dinner to quash the plan. Nothing too obvious but social faux pas enough to ensure Lady Stapleford would insist the plan went no further, but Sir Richard had my blood up. That he, at best a countryman who pretended to be a gentleman, might suggest that I, with my connections, was unworthy, was intolerable.

I sincerely regret to say I made it through the entire dinner without once making a mistake. I did not rise to Sir Richard’s ribbing. I pretended either to not hear or not understand unsavoury comments when they were made. I acted all in all as if this family of bankers and murderers was beneath my notice. I would have made my mother proud.

At the end of the meal, Lady Stapleford dismissed me. I walked slowly across the hall towards the stairs and Suzette, who would need to unpin and undress my costume, wondering what I had done. Rory stood waiting for me in the hall. I could not read his expression.

‘You heard,’ I said to him, ‘you heard Richenda admit it was all her plan.’

‘I did,’ said Rory evenly. ‘I also saw you. Your performance was flawless.’

‘I am around the family every day. Some of it must have rubbed off.’

‘I’ll go further,’ said Rory, ‘your behaviour was the most ladylike in the room.’

I smiled and dropped a little curtsey. ‘Why thank you, kind sir.’

No answering smile met mine. ‘I always knew you were hiding something, Euphemia. I thought you’d tell me in your own time, but seeing you tonight I have to ask myself if I know you at all. What is it you haven’t told me? If we are to be wed I need to know the truth.’

I looked his straight in the eye. ‘I cannot tell you the whole of it, but I am related – distantly related – to people who might be deemed aristocratic by some.’

‘How aristocratic?’

‘I told you my father was a vicar. That is true. My mother,’ I hesitated, ‘ my mother is connected to an important family, but there was an argument a long time ago, and the connection was broken.’

‘So you are a lady?’

‘I am a vicar’s daughter. Nothing more.’

‘Bertram, does he know this?’

I shook my head. ‘The only people who know are my mother, my little brother and you.’

‘Well, that’s something,’ said Rory. ‘But when I saw you sitting with them you looked more at home than I have ever seen you among the servants.’

I put my hand on his chest. ‘I can assure you that every moment I was sitting there I was wishing I was with you all at the kitchen table.’

Rory bowed his head and covered my hand with his. ‘I do believe you, Euphemia, but we all are what we are. Blood will out. If you love me give up this scheme. It can only lead to trouble.’

‘But if I do them this favour they will be in my debt. They will have to agree to let us marry.’

‘You’ve said it yourself many a time the Staplefords will do what they want. We are nothing to them.’

‘But …’

‘Give it up, Euphemia. I beg you. If you love me give it up.’

I could find no way to do what Rory wanted. I even made so bold as to suggest to Richenda that she use her knowledge of her royal friend to make her agree to come.

‘That only shows how much you have to learn,’ said Miss Richenda scornfully. ‘My friend could never explain to her parents that she had a lover, but she could choose without repercussion to instruct her staff not to contradict any reports of her presence for the sake of not embarrassing an old friend.’

‘It won’t work,’ I said.

‘Stepmama will be giving you lessons every day until we depart for The Court. I have sent to London for clothes for you. Suzette will act as your maid. I shall take Merry with us as mine. Everything will go well.’

‘But the servants …’

‘Want to keep their positions. Accept it, Euphemia. For a short period in your dull, little life you will get to play at being a lady. You will always have those memories.’

‘Your brother …’

‘Thinks this is a great laugh and, before you ask, Tippy will do whatever I ask.’

I was trapped. I could see no way out. Like Rory I had a deep foreboding this would not end well. Though I could never have suspected what was to happen.

We arrived at The Court on a sharp summer morning that carried the breath of autumn on the wind. It was late in the afternoon and four days before the wedding. Dinners and rehearsals would take up the next three days.

‘The Court’ is, naturally, not its full name, but were I to give the rest of it many people who might wish to remain anonymous in these pages would be exposed. However, for the sake of readers less familiar with the naming conventions of the English great houses, let me assure you that The Court has nothing to do with the Royal Court. It is simply a familiar abbreviation of the house’s name – for example it could have been Dently Court or some such thing. By dropping the identifying name it is implied everyone in the conversation knows where it is and if you don’t then you shouldn’t be part of the conversation in the first place. The upper classes do love their nicknames. After all nicknames are one of the very best ways to exclude the socially inferior. By this I don’t mean the servants, for the true aristocrat cares nothing for his servants’ opinions
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, but that awful growing group that is beginning to be known as the middle classes. The Staplefords before the award of their peerage were most definitely middle-class. Of course they knew this, and were among the most vehement in their hatred of the middle classes. But really, I fear I am becoming most radical. I apologise.

In our little motorcade the family was all present. Merry came as lady’s maid and Rory as valet. None of the other servants the Staplefords had could be trusted with the full secret of my impostor charade and, perhaps more importantly, none of the others knew how to behave in such a grand establishment.

As the motor entered the final stretch of the tree-lined drive, I saw Richenda blanch, and even Lady Stapleford appeared a little white about the mouth. I saw an Earl’s residence, much like the one my mother had grown up in as a girl. Before us lay a big sprawling house that needed hordes of servants to keep it working, and a building strictly divided by the green baize door. The life upstairs of the betters and the army of lowers working downstairs. The whole structure was like a giant swan with the aristocratic members living a life of ease and leisure and the servants working like devils from dawn to dusk to make their master’s world a better place. However, it did have a very pretty portico.

The great house threw us into shadow as the car drew up. It was cold enough to make me wish I had chosen a winter dress. Some of the senior servants were lined up along the steps; after all, Richenda was joining the family, even if she would only be the Earl’s great-niece by marriage.

The lady in question looked decidedly green around the gills. ‘There is a question of prescience,’ hissed Lady Stapleford. ‘As bride-to-be, Richenda, you must go first and I will follow.’

‘Actually, we can’t do that,’ I said. ‘If I am a member of a Royal family, even a European one, then I outrank both of you.’

The colour came back into the cheeks of Lady Stapleford and her lips parted to no doubt utter a scalding response, but the butler was already at my door. He opened it and extended his hand. I gave it to him and he bowed very low. ‘Your Highness, Welcome to The Court.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, inclining my head a fraction. I descended gracefully and for the first time in my life felt grateful to my mother for the hours of deportment she had made me practice.

‘Indeed you are most welcome, my dear,’ said an elderly lady dressed in the very best fashion. This must be the Countess. No one else would dare be so informal with royalty. I decided to be gracious.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You have a lovely house. It reminds me of one of our smaller winter palaces.’

I heard a gasp of horror from Lady Stapleford behind me, but the Countess looked at me with a twinkle her eyes. ‘Shall we let Robbins see to your luggage? I shall take you up myself.’

This, naturally enough, elected a gasp from Richenda, who had expected the Countess’s undivided attention. However, the rest of the family were left to the housekeeper, a Mrs Merion, while the Countess escorted me to my very large bedchamber and dressing room, apologizing frequently for the coldness of the house and the ‘rather temperamental’ hot water system.

I assured her that the house was very lovely, my room extremely tasteful and if she could send my maid and a cup of tea up to me I would like a little time to recover from my journey before pre-dinner drinks.

Nothing seemed too much and I had barely taken off my outer clothing before there was a tap at the door and Merry appeared carrying a tea tray. She closed the door behind her, carefully supporting the tray with one hand and made her way to an occasional table. Once she had set her burden down she collapsed onto the floor, her fist stuffed into her mouth, as she attempted to stifle the gales of laughter that over took her. Tears of pure joy ran down her face. I poured myself a cup of tea and waited for her to recover herself.

Eventually Merry sat up and wiped her tears with the edge of her skirt. ‘I’m sorry,’ she gulped, ‘but you should have seen Lady Stapleford’s face when the Earless greeted you first! And then Richenda nearly had a cow when you said the house was small.’

‘Countess,’ I said. ‘Not Earless.’

Merry staggered to her feet and dropped me what she obviously thought was a deep curtsey, but looked unfortunately vulgar. ‘I am so sorry, Your ’Ighness.’ This set her off again. Although this time she managed to attain the dignity of sitting on a small sofa rather than rolling around on the floor.

‘Merry,’ I said seriously, ‘you’re right this whole escape is laughable. But it’s also very dangerous. I said what I did about the Court because the Countess didn’t give me my title. We were establishing our respective social standings. If I’d got that wrong I could have been exposed as a fraud.’

‘What?’

‘What the Staplefords don’t understand is that every conversation I have here will be watched and analysed.’

‘You mean they are suspicious?’

‘I mean because the English are always sensitive about foreign royalty. They assume all other Royals are not as important as their own, but they are never quite sure where to put us in the social ranking when we visit.’

‘’Ow do you know all this?’ asked Merry, her head on one side. ‘Cos the way it looked when we arrived only you knew what to do.’

‘That’s how it should be.’

‘No, you don’t,’ said Merry. ‘Don’t dodge the question.’

I sighed. ‘You know my father was a Vicar. Sometimes he had to visit the Archbishop’s Palace and there could be important visitors there.’

‘The Archbishop had a palace?’

I waved this comment aside. ‘It’s just what the residence of a bishop is called. Most of them look nothing like palaces. Anyway Pa got one of these books on etiquette in case he ever met anyone important. I read it. That’s all.’

‘But the Staplefords hadn’t a clue.’

‘I’m sure they don’t think they are in need of reading etiquette books.’

‘Looks to me like they are,’ said Merry watching me very closely.

‘I don’t care if they make mistakes,’ I said. ‘I mustn’t. I’m not sure that what I’m doing isn’t illegal.’

‘Then why are you doing it? They’re tripling my wages for the time here. That’s my reason. What’s yours?’

‘You got a much better deal than me. They said they would fire me if I didn’t do it.’