Three Graces (33 page)

‘I’m sorry too.’ she said. ‘It all went wrong.’

‘I know.’

‘I didn’t know what to do.’

‘Shush! Don’t worry,’ he said, hugging her close. ‘It’s okay now. We’ll sort things out. I promise.’

Carys blinked her tears away and looked at him. ‘Why’s everything so complicated?’ she asked. ‘Why can’t it be easy for us?’

‘As long as there’s Amberley, I’m afraid life’s always going to be a little hectic.’

Carys smiled. ‘Always Amberley.’

‘But you do love it, don’t you?’ Richard asked, looking worried.

‘I love it more than I could have imagined.’

He looked relieved. ‘Than we’ll work things out.’

‘But you work too many hours,’ Carys told him. ‘I hardly see you.’

‘That will change.’

‘Will it?’ She looked at him, aware that it was easy to make such promises at such a moment.

‘From Monday.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Jamie’s coming to work for me.’

‘Jamie? I thought he was in Tibet.’

‘He’s coming back - broke. I’m giving him a job. He’ll be taking over a few things which means I’ll be able to spend more time with you and the girls.’

‘Really?’

‘Really.’ Richard smiled. ‘We’ll have to smarten Jamie up a bit and I’ll have to train him. He’s never really shown an interest in the estate up to now - much too busy on his travels - but he sounded ready when I told him.’

‘That’s brilliant.’

‘It is, isn’t it? I’m just surprised I didn’t think of it earlier,’ Richard said, looking a little bit pleased with himself. ‘Come on,’ he said, taking Carys’s hand.

‘Where are we going?’

‘I’m taking you to bed.’

And he did.

They made love, slowly and tenderly, as if it was something they had all the time in the world to do. Amberley Enterprises had to wait. The phone calls, the paperwork, the crumbling plaster in the east wing, the blocked drains in the old stable yard, the irate tenant farmer whose roof needed repairing - all had to wait whilst the duke made love to his duchess.

‘I have something to tell you,’ Carys said, propping herself up on the pillows so that she could see Richard’s face.

‘Yes?’ he said sleepily, opening his eyes to look at her.

‘I’m pregnant.’

Richard’s eyes widened and he looked at Carys as if she might be joking. ‘That was quick,’ he said.

‘No!’ she laughed. ‘It dates from - well, I’m not quite sure yet.’

‘But you’re sure you’re-’

‘Oh, yes. I did a test at your mother’s.’

‘Does she know?’

‘She was the one who told me.’

Richard laughed. ‘Sounds like mother.’

‘She’s absolutely delighted.’

Richard leant forward and kissed her again. ‘So am I.’

‘We’ll have to tell the girls.’

‘Of course.’

‘Can I tell them?’ Carys asked.

Richard nodded. ‘They’d like that. They’ll be choosing names for us.’

Carys snuggled back down into the bed which felt the very height of luxury at that time of day when both of them should have been elsewhere.

Richard took her right hand in his and kissed each finger.

‘When should I tell them?’ Carys asked.

Richard smiled. ‘Whenever you like.’

‘After our second honeymoon?’ Carys suggested.

Richard’s eyebrows rose. ‘It’s funny you should say that,’ he said. ‘Because I’ve been thinking we should have a little trip away.’

Carys smiled. It was exactly what she’d been hoping to hear.

A certain sense of peace seemed to fill Carys over the next couple of weeks. The Montella exhibition was all moving along smoothly and the ghost tours were finally into credit and Carys opened a little bank account for her walled garden fund. Jamie had returned from finding spiritual enlightenment in Tibet, had been bought a suit by Richard and was in the process of learning all there was to know about the Amberley Enterprises.

‘It’s really rather exciting,’ he said in the kind of calm manner that could only come from having spent a month in a monastery. Richard was delighted as was Carys because he was spending less time at his desk and more time was his ‘girls’. He went out riding with Cecily and Evie, took them on a shopping spree to Carminster, played crazy golf with them and even attended one of their ballet classes.

With Carys, he slept. Like he’d never slept before. She made him switch of his alarm clock, made love to him and made him breakfast - every morning and in that order. They took the dogs out together for wonderfully long walks around the estate although, admittedly, it was quite hard for Richard to switch off.

‘That gate needs fixing,’ he’d say or, ‘I must tell Mr Brodie to order some more fencing.’ And he’d get out the little notebook that was ever present on his person. But Carys had to admit that it was a big improvement on the Richard of a few weeks ago.

Carys was also enjoying a much easier relationship with her step-daughters. Cecily had definitely had a change of heart since Carys’s return, deciding that her step-mother wasn’t quite as bad as she’d first thought. Evie was as sweet as ever and they were both terribly excited about the news of Cary’s baby.

‘I hope it’s a girl!’ Cecily said.

‘I want a baby brother!’ Evie said. ‘Called Richard. After daddy.’

‘Carys gets to choose the name, silly!’

Carys smiled her way through these exchanges, teasing them that the new baby was going to have a truly outrageous name like Ignatius or Ebenezer. She even went as far as to consult the Bretton family tree. She’d always been fascinated by family trees: the shapes and patterns they made and the endless striving and thrusting down into the new generations - new branches, new beginnings - and to which she was to add another little branch.

It was funny how names were repeated too: some like William, Elizabeth, Anne and George never seeming to go out of fashion. Whilst other names stood out, declaring their uniqueness with a strange sort of pride. Conibear, for instance. Who had he been? Where had that name sprung from? What colour eyes had he had? Had he had the famous Cuthland dark eyes? Perhaps that was where they’d began - with Conibear Cuthland, the tenth duke.

Family trees were so very male, she thought, examining the Bretton’s in the front of the Amberley guidebook. But who were the women? Who was Diana Bellwood, the wife of the seventh duke? Who had her family been before she’d exchanged Bellwood for Bretton? Was she well-known in her own right or always referred to in terms of her husband? And Dorothy Hewson who’d given Amberley four boys and four girls? So many lives lived out under this one roof. So many stories to discover.

And then her eyes alighted on one she did know: Georgiana Lacey.

‘Georgiana.’ She said the name aloud. It would be a wonderful gesture to name her child - if she was a girl - after one of the first friends she’d made at Amberley. Carys sighed suddenly. She was worried; she hadn’t seen Georgiana since she’d left Amberley to stay with Francesca. She sincerely hoped that she hadn’t sent her away forever when she’d been so rude to her last time they’d met.

Carys closed the guidebook and walked to the Montella Room where she stood in front of Georgiana’s portrait.

‘Where are you?’ she whispered.

‘I’m right behind you!’ a voice said.

Carys turned and smiled at the happy face of her ghostly friend.

‘
Georgiana!
’ She walked forward and, before she realised what she was doing, embraced her friend. ’Oh, dear.’

‘It’s all right. Don’t worry. I’m only vapour, you see,’ Georgiana quickly explained.

‘How strange. I’m sorry,’ Carys said, feeling rather flustered at having tried to hug a spirit. ‘I was so excited at seeing you. I’ve missed you so much.’

‘And I have missed you too.’

‘I was so scared you wouldn’t come back.’

Georgiana looked surprised. ‘Why would I not come back?’

‘Because I was so horrible to you.’

‘Oh, please don’t worry about that. As long as everything is all right now?’

Carys nodded. ‘I think it is. I mean, I know it is. Jamie’s working for the estate now and that’s taken so much pressure off Richard.’

‘So you can spend more time together.’

‘Yes. It’s wonderful. Everything feels just right.’

‘And have you anything else to tell me?’ There was a naughty sparkle in Georgiana’s eyes and Carys instantly blushed.

‘We’re going to have a baby.’

Georgiana clapped her hands together and beamed. ‘That is wonderful!’

‘In April.’

‘A spring baby? So romantic.’

‘I’ve just been looking at the family tree for inspiration. I don’t know where to begin. What did you call your children, Georgiana?’

Georgiana smiled wistfully. ‘Well, my first precious daughter was Little Georgiana. Then there was Catherine and Mary and Alice.’

‘So many girls!’

‘And a very nervous time for me, I can assure you. I felt like Anne Boleyn - that my time to provide a male heir was rapidly running out.’

‘So what happened?’

‘I had William,’ Georgiana said softly, her eyes looking dreamy and lovelorn. ‘Dear, sweet William.’

Carys smiled. ‘He’s in some of the portraits, isn’t he?’

Georgiana nodded. ‘Of course,’ she said and she gave Carys a knowing look.

‘What?’ Carys asked.

‘He was special,’ Georgiana said.

‘Well, he was the long-awaited son, wasn’t he? After four daughters, I mean.’

‘No,’ Georgiana said, ‘it was more than that.’

Carys was puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

Georgiana didn’t answer for a moment. ‘I adore those portraits of me and William. Leo Montella has captured something very special, do you not think so?’

‘Oh, absolutely. They’re wonderful paintings.’

‘Leo Montella. Is it not a beautiful name?’

Carys nodded. ‘Yes, it is.’

‘And he was such a beautiful man. Have you ever noticed that some men are attractive whilst others are handsome? Well, Leo was
beautiful
- truly he was. He had eyelashes that were longer than any woman’s - and so dark.’

Carys smiled but there was a little part of her that couldn’t help wondering where this conversation was going.

‘You were musing on the dark eyes of the Bretton’s before, weren’t you?’ Georgiana said.

‘How did you know?’ Carys asked, suitably unnerved.

Georgiana waved a hand dismissively. ‘They didn’t begin with the tenth duke, you know. Nor the ninth nor the eighth. They didn’t begin with a duke at all.’

Carys’s own eyes narrowed. ‘What are you saying?’

Georgiana looked around the room but there was only her and Carys and the bright faces from the portraits present.

‘You must not tell a soul. Promise me you will not tell a single soul.’

‘I promise,’ Carys said and Georgiana beckoned her to come closer.

‘My sweet William was not my husband’s child,’ Georgiana said in an excited whisper.

‘What?’

Georgiana nodded. ‘He was Leo’s child.’

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Carys said, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘I am most certainly
not
kidding.’

‘You had an affair with the artist?’

‘Oh, Carys, don’t sound so outraged! Women
did
have affairs back in history. They aren’t the prerogative of the modern woman, you know. And you have been suspecting it for some time, haven’t you?’

‘But I - but - you were
married
.’

‘Yes.’

‘You were respectable.’

‘Most certainly.’

‘And you had an
affair!
’

Georgiana laughed at Carys’s shocked face and decided she’d better try and explain. ‘I loved my husband. I really did. We were best friends. But Leo was the love of my life. I cannot really explain it any other way.’

‘I can’t take this all in. Is this what you’ve been wanting to tell me? You said there was something, didn’t you? Or Lara Claridge did. I forget now, I’m so confused. Is this why you came back?’

‘I didn’t just come back. I have been here all the time. I have never truly left Amberley. It’s rather a hard place to leave, isn’t it? I think you recently discovered that.’

‘Is Leo here too?’ Carys asked, looking around as if she might spy the ghostly figure of the renowned artist in the room bearing his name.

‘No, no. He’s not here.’

‘But this is all so - so-’

‘
Wonderful!
’ Georgiana interrupted.

Carys laughed. ‘Unexpected!’ She shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts.

‘And Charlotte too.’

‘What?’ Carys’s mouth dropped open.

‘My daughter, Charlotte. She was Leo’s too.’

‘
Two
children?’

Georgiana nodded, her eyes alight with joy. ‘Two.’

‘Did your husband know?’

‘Of course he didn’t. He would have been truly appalled. It would have broken his heart.’

‘He accepted them as his own?’

‘But of course.’

‘But-’Carys stopped, seeming to think of something for the first time. ‘They weren’t Brettons.’

‘No.’

‘William - he became the next duke, didn’t he?’

‘He did.’

‘But he wasn’t a Bretton.’

‘No,’ Georgiana confirmed again.

‘So all the dukes after him weren’t descended from Brettons either,’ Carys said, her face quite pale.

‘No,’ Georgiana said matter-of-factly. ‘They were descended from Montellas.’

‘Oh, my goodness. And nobody else knows this?’

‘Not a soul.’

A nervous little laugh escaped Carys. ‘But they’re so proud of their family history stretching right back to the first duke.’

‘I know,’ Georgiana said. ‘I’m afraid I rather corrupted their family tree, didn’t I?’

Carys shook her head. ‘So the dark hair, the dark eyes-’

‘Are Italian.’

‘Why hasn’t anyone noticed?’

Georgiana shrugged. ‘I am a firm believer that people only see what they want to see.’

‘Gosh! This is so
huge
.’

‘But not uncommon.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m quite sure I’m not the only lady who had a dalliance.’