The American Heiress (39 page)

‘Cora, don’t you think there should be somebody here? It’s not right that you should be on your own at this time.’ Sybil put her hand timidly on Cora’s arm. ‘I know Mama can be overbearing but she is at least experienced.’

Cora forced herself to smile. ‘Indeed she is! But I shan’t be on my own. My parents will be here next week and I expect Ivo any day now. Your stepmother would have known this if she had asked me.’ She put her hand on Sybil’s. ‘You always call her Mama even though she is only your stepmother. Don’t you mind?’

Sybil looked confused by the change of subject. ‘She asked me to when she married Father, and actually, Cora, I don’t mind. My mother died when I was little. I can hardly remember her now. You can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up in a family of men, with no one there to tell you what to wear or how to behave. I remember once coming down to tea when Father had guests, wearing a red dress of my mother’s. I thought it looked lovely but I knew the moment I walked into the room that it was all wrong. All the women in the room were trying not to laugh. It was Mama – well, she wasn’t Mama then, but still Duchess of Wareham – who took me aside and told me that the dress was too grown-up for me, and she actually spoke to Father and told him that I needed some “suitable” clothes. Father didn’t see the point of spending money on things that couldn’t be ridden or shot, but he couldn’t refuse when Mama asked him.’

Cora’s surprise must have shown on her face, because Sybil said, ‘I know you think she’s interfering, Cora, but that’s because you have a mother already. You don’t need guidance.’

Cora was about to say that she didn’t think that Sybil really needed the kind of guidance that stopped her from marrying the man she had set her heart on, but then she thought better of it. She did, indeed, have a mother and while she found little to rejoice about in that relation, when she looked at Sybil with her rounded back and awkward stride, it occurred to her that perhaps her mother had been useful after all.

Feeling sorry for Sybil cheered Cora up and she said briskly, ‘Well, I must get changed if I am to have any chance of sitting down to lunch with you all. Not to be late for meals was something my mother did teach me.’ She gestured towards her dressing room. ‘And afterwards, Sybil, we must see what is in there that will do for you. It will be a season out of date, of course, but I dare say nobody in London will notice.’ She smiled at Sybil.

‘Reggie certainly won’t,’ she said.

As there were only ladies present, Cora asked for lunch to be served in the long gallery to take advantage of the afternoon sunshine. She had the satisfaction of seeing her mother-in-law give a theatrical gasp of surprise as she walked in.

‘How charming this is! I never thought to eat in here. But for a cold lunch, what could be nicer.’ Duchess Fanny swept down the gallery and waited for the footman to pull out her chair. ‘Of course, I would have hesitated before giving the servants any extra trouble. Poor Wareham used to say that I was much too soft-hearted to run a house like Lulworth. But I believe that a sympathetic mistress is always rewarded with loyalty.’ Cora watched as Duchess Fanny lifted her heavy blue eyes to look at Bugler who was handing round the crayfish soufflé. Bugler did not actually reply but the reverential tilt of his body as he leant in towards the Duchess with the soufflé was assent enough.

Cora ignored this taunt, looking up instead at the vaulted stone roof. Every time she sat in this room she was reminded that everything around her was older than anything in her native country. Whatever was said and done in here would fade away but the room itself would endure.

The soothing nature of this thought was dispelled when she heard Duchess Fanny say, ‘But you have changed things around in here, Cora. I remember my wedding bouquet always used to stand here,’ she gestured, ‘next to the fireplace. I had it cast in wax after I married Wareham. Such a lovely memento. I remember feeling sad about leaving it here but then it would hardly have done to take it to Conyers.’ She looked at Sybil. ‘You know I would never do anything that would upset your dear father. But Cora, I hope my bouquet is safe and sound?’ She raised an eyebrow at her daughter-in-law.

Before Cora could reply, Bugler coughed softly and said, ‘I think Your Grace will find that the bouquet is at the other end of the gallery. It was moved at the request of Her Grace.’ His tone made it quite clear which Duchess could better lay claim to the title. Cora did not notice the implied insult at first, she was just relieved that the wretched object had not been removed to the attics as she had asked a month ago. How was she to know that it was a wedding bouquet? Then it struck her that the wax bouquet was still in the gallery because her orders had been ignored. She might be the Duchess of Wareham now, but it was clear that, unlike her predecessor, she did not command the loyalty of her servants.

Duchess Fanny smiled serenely. ‘It is sentimental of me, I know, but as one gets older, these things become so precious.’ She gave a charming sigh and raised a glittering hand to dab her eyes with a tiny handkerchief. There were perhaps not quite enough tears to warrant this gesture.

‘But enough of my nonsense.’ Duchess Fanny tilted her chin bravely at Cora. ‘Tell me, my dear, when does Wilson expect your confinement?’

‘But I am not using Wilson. Sir Julius Sercombe will be attending. He thinks it will be another two weeks.’ Cora laid a hand across her belly.

Duchess Fanny’s wistfulness evaporated. ‘Julius Sercombe! But he’s in Harley Street. Surely you don’t intend to travel to London?’

Cora shook her head, ‘Oh no. As I have been told often enough that the Maltravers heirs are born at Lulworth, Sir Julius has kindly agreed to come here. I expect him at the end of next week.’ Cora took a mouthful of the soufflé, she felt ravenous.

‘Sir Julius is prepared to leave his practice and all his London engagements to await your confinement? How…accommodating of him. But if you had asked me I would have told you to use Wilson. He is an excellent doctor and has looked after the Maltravers for years. Why, he was there when Ivo came into the world.’ The Duchess’s hand began to reach for the handkerchief.

Cora smiled. ‘Dr Wilson is most amiable but as this is my first child I wanted to be sure that I had the best and Sir Julius delivers all the royal babies, you know. He was reluctant to leave London to begin with, but he was so pleased with the Maltravers Wing for his new hospital that he changed his mind.’ She gestured to Bugler to bring her a second helping of the soufflé, it really was quite delicious.

‘The Maltravers Wing! How magnificent that sounds,’ said Sybil who had been following the conversation warily.

‘Indeed,’ said Duchess Fanny, widening her eyes. ‘What kind of hospital is it, dear?’

‘For women and children, in Whitechapel. Sir Julius believes that there is a great deal to be done in that part of London. There are women there who are forced to wrap their newborn babies in flour sacks because they have no money for baby clothes. When he told me of his plans and the difficulties he was having raising the money, I was determined to help him.’

A footman passed round the table, taking away the empty plates. When he had finished, Duchess Fanny asked, ‘And tell me, Cora, whose idea was it to call it the Maltravers Wing? Yours or Ivo’s?’

Cora was shifting in her chair, trying to relieve the pressure on her diaphragm from her belly, so she did not see the alert expression on her mother-in-law’s face, or the blush that was beginning to threaten Sybil’s freckles.

‘Actually, it was my mother’s idea. She and Father made the endowment as all my money here is tied up in the estate, and I wanted to do something more substantial than my allowance permitted.’ Cora sat up straight, having at last shifted the pressure from her chest. She saw that Duchess Fanny was smiling at her a little too warmly.

‘Well, I think it might be wise to let Ivo know before you commit to a name,’ said the Double Duchess. ‘Donate to good causes by all means, but I think there is something rather…unnecessary about putting your name on things.’

Cora took a sip of water and struggled to swallow. She realised, to her horror, that Ivo might react to this use of the Maltravers name as the Duchess had done. He might have another attack of the ‘scruples’ that made him so peculiar about the Rubens. At last the water slipped past the lump in her throat. But she would not give her mother-in-law the satisfaction of knowing this. She took a deep breath.

‘At home there are three hospitals, a college and a library named after my family. My father often says that anyone can acquire wealth, the real art is giving it away.’ Cora took a generous helping of the sole veronique. The food seemed especially appetising today; clearly the Double Duchess’s arrival was having its effect in the kitchen.

‘Your father is such a charming man.’ Duchess Fanny’s emphasis on the word ‘father’ implied that such charm did not extend to his wife or daughter. ‘But we do things rather differently here. I suppose you are familiar with the phrase, “charity begins at home”. Of course, hospitals and libraries are fine things, but I always think it is the simple personal touch that makes such a difference to people’s lives.’

The Duchess turned to Sybil for support but her stepdaughter was staring intently at the plate in front of her, cutting her food into smaller and smaller pieces, desperate not to be involved in the duel in front of her. With a little shake of her head, the Duchess continued, ‘Why, only last week I spent the afternoon reading to old Mrs Patchett, one of the Conyers pensioners, who is blind. She always says that when I read to her it brings the words to life and she can see all the characters. It’s really quite embarrassing how grateful she is, but I feel it is the least I can do – I only wish it were possible for me to visit her more often. Bricks and mortar have their own value, of course, but nothing can take the place of simple human contact, of personal kindness given and bestowed.’ Duchess Fanny leant back in her chair, quite pink with the memory of her own benevolence.

Cora put down her fork with a clatter; the other woman’s self-satisfaction was intolerable to her, she would not be lectured by this univited guest, family or not.

‘Well, that explains why there is no school in the village and why the Maltravers almshouses are permanently damp. As soon as Ivo returns, I intend to set up a proper schoolhouse and to make the almshouses habitable. I think that would be a true kindness to the villagers of Lulworth.’ She took a bite of the boneless quail stuffed with sausage meat and noticed that the Duchess had left hers untouched. Sybil was doing her best to look fully absorbed in the process of eating.

Duchess Fanny sighed in mock defeat. ‘You Americans are always so practical – no room in your brave new world for our faded notions of honour and duty.’ She half closed her eyes as if focusing on a target and sat up a little straighter, readying herself to deliver the
coup de grâce
. ‘And when is Ivo coming back, dear? I rather thought he might be here already.’

Cora looked up, surprised by the certainty in her mother-in-law’s tone. ‘His last letter was from Port Said. So I expect him next week.’

The Double Duchess’s mouth curved triumphantly. ‘But dear Cora, Ivo is already back in England. I saw the Prince of Wales last night and he said that Prince Eddy and the whole party had docked yesterday at Southampton.’

Cora put down the fork that was halfway to her mouth and forced herself to smile. She would not give her mother-in-law the satisfaction of seeing her consternation.

‘Oh, that is wonderful news. I expect he is on his way here now. He must have been hoping to surprise me.’ She looked at Sybil, wondering why she, at least, had not told her that Ivo was back, but Sybil was looking at her stepmother in astonishment. The Double Duchess had clearly been hoarding this information.

The Double Duchess put her hand to her mouth in a pantomime of apology. ‘Oh no, how thoughtless of me! I will have spoilt his scheme. But after all, in your condition, perhaps that is not such a bad thing. How unfortunate if anything were to happen before the arrival of Sir Julius.’ Her voice was sympathetic, but Cora could see the glint of malice in her eyes. She had to get away, so taking a deep breath, she said as calmly as she could, ‘I am sorry but I must ask you to excuse me. I am tired and if Ivo is to arrive at any moment I would like to rest now. Perhaps, Duchess, you would be kind enough to tell Bugler that the Duke is to be expected. I am sure all the servants will want to be there to greet him.’ She stood up painfully, her body heavy with the shock. She bit her lip, desperate to stop the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her. Ivo was back, this was the moment she had been waiting for all these months, but now it had all been spoilt. She stumbled away down the gallery, the Duchess’s voice in her ears.

‘Oh, I am sure Bugler knows already. It’s uncanny how servants always sense these things.’ Duchess Fanny looked up, with a complicit smile, at the footman who was serving the crème brulée. The footman’s face did not flicker but his hand shook slightly as the Duchess struck the caramel with a swift sharp blow, plunging the spoon into the yielding custard beneath.