The American Heiress (45 page)

‘I don’t know about every American, Cora, but this one certainly is,’ said Teddy.

Cora’s grip on his arm tightened. ‘Now, Teddy, you must come and talk to Mother. You can’t put it off any longer.’

Teddy nodded to the Duke and said, ‘It’s no secret that American girls must be obeyed, I think.’

The Duke showed his teeth in amusement. ‘In my experience all women expect obedience.’

Teddy allowed himself to be shepherded in front of Mrs Cash, who looked at him without enthusiasm. She hated to be reminded of her accident. She had told Cora that she thought Teddy’s presence at Lulworth was in very poor taste.

‘And how is your mother, Mr Van Der Leyden, and your sister?’ She shifted slightly so that Teddy was facing her good side.

‘Both well, thank you, ma’am, though I suspect you may have seen them more recently than I. I have been in Europe for over a year now.’

‘Oh yes, I believe I heard you were in Paris – painting.’ Mrs Cash let her voice fall on the last word. But Teddy did not waver.

‘That’s correct. I was studying with Menasche.’

‘And do you ever intend to return to New York, Mr Van Der Leyden? It must be hard for your mother to have her only son so far away.’

‘Well, I have received a commission from the New York Public Library for a mural, so I am coming home in the fall.’

Cora clapped her hands at this. ‘Oh Teddy, that’s splendid. I am so pleased. I know you will do something wonderful. What is your subject?’

Teddy saw that she was genuinely pleased and that her mother disliked this.

‘I haven’t decided yet. There was a thought of doing the Persephone myth. I only wish I could use you as a model, Cora, you would be exactly right.’

Teddy had meant this as a compliment so he was surprised to see the alarm on Cora’s face.

‘What a pity that I am here then. To be immortalised in a public library, that would be quite something.’

Teddy was about to say that he could work from sketches when there was an intake of breath and a rustling of skirts as the footman announced, ‘His Royal Highness, the Prince of Wales.’

Teddy took a step back. He did not want to appear eager to meet the Prince. He hoped that he was immune to the lure of royalty although he could not help looking at the Prince closely. He was smaller than Teddy had imagined and much rounder. Even the dinner jacket which the Prince wore in preference to the more revealing tails could not disguise his girth. His mouth and chin were covered by a pointed Vandyke beard and he surveyed the room through a pair of chilly blue eyes under heavy lids.

The first person he spoke to was a blonde lady, whose curtsy was so abject that her forehead practically touched the ground at the Prince’s feet. The Prince smiled at this and kissed the woman’s hand when she surfaced. ‘Duchess Fanny, such a pleasure to see you here in your old setting.’ Teddy noticed that Cora’s smile was losing its warmth, her curtsy was stiff, almost jerky – an italic comma in contrast to the other woman’s flowing cursive signature. But the Prince appeared not to notice and said, ‘Yes, I am verrry pleased to be back here, and in such charming company.’ Now Cora was guiding the Prince through the guests to where her mother stood. Mrs Cash’s curtsy was a model of dignity, she did not bow her head but kept her back erect throughout and her eyes fixed on the Prince’s face. Despite the depth of her curtsy, there was no mistaking, in the regal tilt of Mrs Cash’s head, the sense that she was meeting someone of her own rank at last. The Prince was complimenting her on her daughter. ‘I don’t know where we would be without you Amerrricans.’ Mrs Cash half closed her eyes as if to agree.

Cora looked at Teddy and he stepped forward reluctantly.

‘Sir, may I present Mr Van Der Leyden, who is one of my childhood friends and is also a godfather to my son.’

Teddy thought for a moment that he might stand his ground but as the Prince stood in front of him, he felt himself bowing as if pulled forward by the inexorable force of royal gravity.

‘Whereabouts in Amerrrica are you from, Mr Van Der Leyden?’

‘New York…sir.’ Teddy could not bring himself to say Your Highness.

‘Such an enerrrgetic city. I would like very much to go back but it is impossible these days for me to go so far away, I have too many responsibilities. Duty before pleasure, eh.’

Teddy looked at the Prince’s rounded form and heavy-lidded eyes and wondered how much pleasure exactly the Prince had sacrificed for duty. It was not, he thought, a face that he wanted to paint.

As the Prince moved sedately on, Teddy looked up and saw that the Duke was looking at him, and to Teddy’s surprise he gave him an imperceptible nod as if to say that he had read his thoughts and was in agreement.

The Prince was being offered a glass of champagne but he waved it away and turned to Cora. ‘But my dear Amerrrican Duchess, may we not have a cocktail? I met a charming gentleman from Louisiana who showed me how to make a most splendid drink with whisky, marrraschino and champagne. I would so like to taste it again.’ The Prince looked wistful although fully aware that his every whim would of course be indulged. Cora signalled to Bugler. A few moments later two footmen entered carrying a tray with bottles, decanters and a large silver punchbowl.

The Prince busied himself mixing the drink. ‘One part whisky to a measure of marrraschino and two parts of champagne. Now, Duchess Fanny, I want you to try this, and you too, Mrs Cash. You can tell me whether it tastes the way it should.’ Both women approached, the Double Duchess eagerly, Mrs Cash with due republican reticence. The Prince poured a bottle of Pol Roger into the mixture and then he dipped two glasses into the bowl and offered one to each lady. Duchess Fanny sipped hers and pronounced it, ‘Quite delicious, sir, although of course a little stronger than I am used to.’

‘Splendid,’ cried the Prince, his pendulous lower lip glistening. ‘And what do you think, Mrs Cash?’

‘I think it would benefit from the addition of some fresh mint.’ The Prince looked at her for a moment in surprise; he frequently asked for honest opinions but he was not in the habit of receiving them. There was a tiny pause while he wondered whether there had been any affront to his dignity and then he laughed and said, ‘Well now, I know why Amerrrican women make such good hostesses, Mrs Cash. Attention to detail. By all means, let us add mint.’

Teddy tried not to smile. He was used to seeing Mrs Cash prevailing but the assembled company were not. He noticed the blonde woman, whom he now knew to be Duchess Fanny, looking at Mrs Cash warily, as if re-evaluating an opponent.

The Prince was offering a glass to Cora when the footman announced, ‘Sir Odo and Lady Beauchamp.’ Teddy saw the Prince stiffen; and he remembered Cora’s instructions in her letter to him:

‘The Prince of Wales breaks all the rules, but he expects perfect behaviour from everyone else. He hates it if people are late, even though the Princess is notorious for her tardiness. So please hurry down to dinner the moment you are dressed. We Americans have to have the best manners of all, of course, as we can get away with nothing.’

The couple that came in, however, did not look at all abashed. The man was flushed, his protruding blue eyes glittering, his lips slightly parted, showing his small white teeth. He bowed gracefully before the Prince, displaying his extravagant profusion of yellow curls.

‘You must forgive me, sir, but my wife could not decide between the chartreuse and the mauve. She would not budge until I had advised her, and do you know I just could not make a decision. She looked simply ravishing in both, so in the end she had to wear red, as you see.’ He gestured towards his wife who sank into a curtsy that did much to display her décolletage.

‘Highness,’ she murmured and she raised her shining blond head to look at the Prince with a smile that was quite unrepentant.

‘It is your hostess who must forgive you, of course, though I am inclined to agree with you, Sir Odo, that the result was worth the wait.’ The Prince gestured towards Lady Beauchamp. Her dress was crimson satin embroidered in black in a repeating motif of bees, ants and scorpions. The neckline and hem were edged with jet beads that shook slightly as she moved. It was a theatrical dress, preposterous even, but Lady Beauchamp was equal to it, Teddy thought. She held her head high, and Teddy could see the strong lines of her neck as it met the collarbone below. She looked beautiful and terrible in equal measure. Teddy thought of Salome holding up the head of John the Baptist. But it wasn’t just her perfect, implacable profile that made him stare at her, transfixed. He had seen this woman before, a year ago, standing on the platform of Euston Station with the Duke. He had never forgotten the way she had pulled the Duke’s hand into her muff – such ferocious intimacy in that public place. He could still remember the gorgeous curve of her cheek, and the way her eyes were fixed on the Duke’s face. It was an image that had never left him, because he knew he had seen the face of a woman saying farewell to the man she loved.

Chapter 25

Eros and Psyche

T
HE DINING ROOM AT LULWORTH WAS IN THE
oldest part of the house. The entrance to the room was down a shallow flight of steps and even on a summer’s evening the stone walls and floors meant that the room felt a few degrees colder than the rest of the house. Tonight, however, the faintly crypt-like atmosphere was dispelled by the heat from the twelve silver gilt candelabra on the table and the sweet smell coming from banks of jasmine in the window bays. The room glittered as the candlelight hit the crystal glasses, the brilliants dangling from the chandeliers and the diamonds around the women’s necks. But the warmth and light were only on the surface, every so often there would be a chill current of air that brushed a bare shoulder or a naked neck and made its owner shiver. Comfort was not the natural order of things here, this room had been built to contain the violent carousing of medieval barons fighting for the favours of the King, not the powdered politenesses of
fin de siècle
aristocrats. The floor was mainly covered by an Aubusson carpet but underneath lay cold hard stone. The footmen who lined the room knew this, they stood on the cold perimeter waiting to pull out chairs, fill glasses and serve food to guests who gave no more thought to their existence than they did to the larks whose tongues lay in aspic before them.

Teddy emptied his glass. He knew that he was drinking too fast. The reappearance of the woman he had seen on the station platform had shaken him. It had taken every scrap of his Knickerbocker composure not to flinch when Cora had beckoned to him to take Lady Beauchamp in to dinner. Charlotte had sensed his confusion but had misattributed the cause, saying, ‘Don’t worry, Mr Van Der Leyden, the dress is just for show. I won’t bite,’ and had placed one black-gloved hand on his arm with a great play of docility. At the table, he won a temporary respite as she turned away to talk to the man on her right. Teddy busied himself making agreeable conversation to Lady Tavistock who sat on his left, but he knew that when the mock turtle soup was finished, there would be no escape from Charlotte Beauchamp.

Lady Tavistock was not much interested in him once she had ascertained that Teddy was not a rich American. When he told her that he was an artist, she put on the brightly curious expression that she might have worn on visiting an institute for the blind.

‘Oh, how fascinating. You know I have never actually met an artist before, not socially, I mean. Of course dear Duchess Cora has such a fondness for painters. I was at Bridgewater House when Louvain showed the portrait. Such a sensation.’ She glanced to the end of the table where Cora was listening to the Prince of Wales and nodded. ‘I am so glad to see her back again.’

Teddy did not fully understand the substance of her remarks but he guessed he did not need to. Lady Tavistock was much like one of his mother’s cronies: women trained from birth to calibrate social standing. They would follow success like sunflowers tracing the arc of the day, but once the light and heat had gone, they were merciless. He felt a kind of guilty relief. In Paris he had imagined Cora to be invincible, and yet here she was subject to the scrutiny of women like Lady Tavistock.

He was still trying to make sense of the presence of Lady Beauchamp here at Lulworth. Did Cora know about her connection with her husband? He knew that liaisons with married women were commonplace in Paris and he supposed here too, but he could not imagine Cora complacently entertaining her husband’s mistress. The idea of a rival would be quite foreign to her – she had been raised to be the prize, not the woman who pretended not to see.

He noticed that Odo Beauchamp, sitting opposite him, was drinking even faster than he was. Teddy wondered how much he knew about his wife and the Duke. From the way his eyes kept flicking between them, Teddy thought that he definitely had suspicions.

A footman came in carrying a silver contraption with a large screw at the side – Teddy thought it looked like a cider press – but from the excited murmurs around him he gathered that this was a meat press and that they were to be given
caneton à la Rouennaise
, a great delicacy much appreciated by the Prince. Teddy watched as the butler turned the screw of the device and collected the blood in a silver jug.

He heard Odo Beauchamp saying, ‘The ducks are smothered, you know, so that none of the blood is lost.’

Teddy wondered if Cora, who had always mocked her mother’s elaborate dinners, enjoyed all this pomp and spectacle. He remembered the phrase in her letter, ‘I am still an American girl who sometimes misses the country of her birth.’ He wondered again how much she knew about the currents of deception coursing around the table. She looked so radiant sitting there next to the Prince, yet Teddy felt a certain low satisfaction in knowing that Cora’s life was not as perfect as the fabulous jewel that hung around her neck.

The footman was offering him a dish of the pressed duck in its bloody sauce. Teddy looked at the red liquid pooling on his plate and realised that Charlotte Beauchamp was speaking to him.