Ashley Park

July 1897

 

My dearest John,

I was amazed and delighted to get your letter this morning. I can hardly believe what you wrote yesterday, after lunch, should arrive this morning on my breakfast tray. Blessings on Mrs Rea for taking it into Banbridge when she went shopping.

It is very good news indeed about Hugh. I shall certainly be writing to Elizabeth and will ask her when they are going over to Manchester. I haven’t mentioned it to the girls and would rather not until we see how things go. I do so wish him well.

Life here continues to be quite delightful, all the more so as Lady Marianne and Lord Cleeve have arrived for their summer holiday. There’s still no date for Lord Harrington’s arrival. Lady Anne says there’s no hope at all before the recess and with various controversial bills tabled no one knows when that might be.

I must say I had to smile when I saw her pair together for the first time. They are both so like her, not a bit like Harrington. It’s hard on Marianne, for she has that same square, robust shape her mother has. As you’ll remember when Sarah instructed you, the fashion these days is for tiny waists and a graceful, willowy look. The poor girl has neither, but she certainly makes up for it in liveliness and good nature.

She and Sarah took to each other immediately. She seems to make up her mind about people as quickly as Sarah does, but I admit I was pleased to see her walking with Hannah only a few days later. My window overlooks the garden and there they were, arms entwined, heads together. So that’s good news.

Lord Cleeve has been a bit more fortunate than his sister as regards looks. Some of his ancestors must have had long legs. He’s a good head taller than either of his parents and it helps to offset his figure, which is just as unfashionable as Marianne’s.

Rose put down her pen and leant back in her chair. She loved writing letters and her regular epistles to John were a pleasure, but unfortunately the effort of writing still tired her. She would set off in fine form, then find she was writing more and more slowly. If she persisted, first her shoulders would ache, and then, if she went on, the wretched pain in her chest would start up and leave her breathless.

Reluctantly, she went to the window and did her breathing exercises. The air was fresh and the gardens below a joy to behold. Every afternoon she and Lady Anne walked together as far as she could manage and then enjoyed a quiet hour or two before the young people joined them for tea. Sometimes they sat in one of the many shady arbours, sometimes in Lady Anne’s sitting room, not even making a pretence of sewing.

Wondering how she might describe him to John, her thoughts went back to Lord Cleeve. While his height did offset his figure, there was nothing to mitigate the unyielding lines of his plain face. He was seldom animated and rarely revealed his feelings, so for most of the time his face appeared strangely immobile.

She’d watched him, puzzled, when they met at lunch, occasionally at tea, and always in Lady Anne’s sitting room after dinner. He was an able young man, doing well at Cambridge, and sincerely fond of his mother and sister. She wondered if he’d inherited something of the shyness that had dogged his father for most of his life. Like him, he seldom initiated a conversation, but unlike the young Lord Harrington, who had found all speech difficult, this young man was always able to respond.

It took her some days to realise that, although he appeared silent, just occasionally, in the midst of a conversation, he would suddenly speak out with unusual force and fluency, as he’d done the previous evening.

‘My dear Miss Hamilton,’ he said, bowing slightly to Hannah, who had just addressed a question to him. ‘If I am to have the pleasure of calling you and your sister by your first names, then I insist you call me Teddy, except of course when we are in company, which I sincerely hope we will not be,’ he added, glancing at his mother, ‘or in front of the servants, a rule of my father’s which we may not entirely understand, but which we all observe meticulously for his sake.’

Hannah smiled and blushed very slightly as she regarded him perfectly calmly.

‘Then, perhaps, Teddy,’ she said, with just the slightest hesitancy in using his familiar name, ‘you might explain to Sarah and me, why, when you were christened Richard Molyneux, you ask us to call you Teddy.’

To Rose’s surprise, he threw back his head and laughed, glanced from his mother to his sister and addressed himself entirely to Hannah.

‘My nurse made great efforts to teach me the names of all the people with whom I came in contact,’ he began calmly. ‘Apart from Mama and Dada, she encouraged me to learn the names of all the servants and of all my toys. Unfortunately, I decided that, while everything had to have a name, any name would serve, so I selected from my list of names the one that took my fancy. As it happened, the one I learnt first and found easiest to say was Teddy, so when I was asked to produce a name for myself that was the one I always chose. So now you know one of the secrets of my early life,’ he concluded.

Whatever Teddy’s personal difficulties might be, Rose could not fault him in his kindness and courtesy to both Hannah and Sarah. Towards his sister, he showed real affection, but this was obvious only in the way he teased her with his ready wit. She went back to her table, took up her pen, described Teddy as coherently as she could before going on to tell John about Sarah’s introduction to photography.

It seems that Eastman in America have produced a whole range of small cameras which everyone calls Kodaks. They’re a far cry from that huge monster we met in Loudan’s of Armagh back in ’89. Do you remember how difficult Sarah was until the young man let her look through the lens? Well, Teddy, as I may now call him, thinks these old plate cameras very good, despite their limitations, and he has started teaching Sarah how to use one.

When she’s mastered the principles of the plate camera, he’s promised she can move to a Kodak and take pictures outdoors, and indoors too, when there is sufficient light. But we did all have to laugh at Teddy’s enthusiasm. So keen was he to get Sarah to practise up in the attic in what he calls his ‘studio’ he asked Hannah and Marianne to go and put on their best white muslin dresses. I haven’t been up to the attic, but Lady Anne tells me it is thick with dust. The girls burst out laughing but Teddy was so focused on his programme he couldn’t see what was so funny.

Sarah’s first pictures are very good and Teddy is pleased. He says she has a good eye for composition and a marvellous knack of getting people to do what she wants. Poor Hannah and Marianne. Hannah tells me they spent hours sharing big books, admiring each others embroidery and even playing with the cook’s cat! Sarah is radiant and cannot wait to be allowed a Kodak to take outside.

Don’t worry that they spend all their time indoors. The weather has been quite lovely, warm and sunny and they go walking every morning after Sarah’s lesson. There is a lake some mile or more from the house and Marianne enjoys punting, though Teddy insists she has more energy than skill. I was a little anxious as neither of our girls can swim, but Anne says the lake is barely three feet deep. Apparently it was the fashion to have a lake when great-grandfather built the house. Teddy tells me the bird life round it is very interesting. When he spoke about it I remembered your Sir Capel and his bird sanctuary at Castledillon. Everyone thought he was mad in those days, but Anne tells me bird sanctuaries are now more common.

As you see, I have finally managed it. I still forget to call her Anne from time to time, but when we are alone together now I find it easy enough.

We talk of so many things but I must write about that another time. I promised I would not over-tire myself, even by writing to you! Take care of yourself and give my love to Sam and Jamie, Elizabeth and Hugh, and my sincere thanks to Mrs Rea.

Rose added her signature and a row of kisses, folded up the stiff sheets of paper and put them in an envelope. She had just addressed it to John Hamilton Esq. Ballydown, Corbet, Banbridge, Co. Down, Ireland, when there was a knock at her door and Betty arrived carrying a salver.

‘Come for your post, ma’am,’ she said, curtseying, as she crossed the room and stood beside Rose’s writing table in the window. ‘And Her Ladyship sent you this.’

On the silver salver was a pretty china plate, a small fruit knife and a clean napkin. Beside them, in a tiny woven straw basket, sat a single peach, perfectly ripe and warm from the sun.

‘Have you seen the latest prints, Rose?’ asked Lady Anne, as they came back into her sitting room together after their afternoon stroll.

‘More? Already?’ she asked, a note of anxiety in her voice. ‘Has poor Teddy been shut up in the knife room again?’

‘No, dear, that’s only for the big glass plates,’ her friend replied reassuringly. ‘With the Kodaks, you send the spools to the factory and the prints come in the post. Teddy says some of these are his. A few are Marianne’s. But most are Sarah’s. Shall we see what they’ve been up to?’

‘This must be the lake,’ said Rose, picking up the first one slowly. ‘Oh dear. I think it’s draining away,’ she went on, beginning to laugh.

‘That’s Marianne’s for sure. Yes, it must be. Look, Teddy has no feet,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘What do you think this one is?’ she went on, as she turned the next print upside down and then back again.

‘That’s better. My goodness that’s good,’ said Lady Anne vigorously, as she held out a picture of an elderly gardener about to pick a peach.

‘That must be one of Teddy’s,’ said Rose.

‘No, its not. It’s one of Sarah’s,’ her friend replied beaming.

‘How ever do you know?’

‘Look! Look just there,’ she said pointing. ‘She’s caught Old Hartley picking a peach and she’s caught reflections of Teddy and Hannah watching her. Isn’t she clever?’

Rose looked more closely and there, sure enough, were two figures standing close beside each other, intent upon Sarah taking her picture. She had to admit Sarah’s pictures were rather good. So far, there wasn’t a fuzzy or lopsided one among them. There were lots of pictures of people working. A laundry maid ironing. Cook mixing something in a bowl. A groom throwing up a saddle on a pony. The postman arriving on his bicycle. The pictures all looked so natural, yet the people pictured must have seen her at work.

‘They do seem to be enjoying themselves, Rose,’ said Lady Anne happily, as they collected up the prints.

‘Yes, Anne dear, you’ve all made the girls so welcome,’ Rose said warmly. ‘Teddy’s spent hours teaching Sarah to use his cameras.’

She shook her head slowly. ‘Sarah’s grown up. I have to admit the young girl I brought with me has suddenly disappeared. Oh, I knew she’d already left girlhood behind. That happened one day when a poor woman with a sick child came to the door and Sarah simply took charge, but I could still see the young girl on the journey. She was still there when we first got here. Now, somehow, I just don’t see that girl any more.’

She paused and thought for a moment.

‘Do you know, Anne, I think it’s the photography that’s done it.’

‘Isn’t that funny? Funny peculiar, I mean,’ the younger woman replied. ‘The very same thing happened to me last autumn. We went up to town for the season and Marianne had her ball. She took it all very casually. Paid no special attention to her dress. She wasn’t awkward or anything like that, but she wasn’t excited like most girls are. The morning after, she came and told me who she’d danced with and which of them she never wanted to dance with ever again. She was different. Just like that. Overnight.’

‘So we neither of us have children any more?’ said Rose slowly.

‘No, we don’t. They may still be able to have fun like children, but even that’s almost gone for mine. What about Jamie and Sam, Rose? Did they change quickly when they went to work?’

Rose paused a moment. She was seeing Sam’s smile as he came and handed her his empty lunch box every evening. Then she thought of Jamie’s infrequent and irregular visits.

‘Jamie changed very quickly,’ Rose began. ‘Even the first time he came home, he was telling John and Sam things about his work as if they’d have difficulty understanding him. Yes, they were technical things, but even I could have managed them if I’d put my mind to it. But Sam didn’t change. It’s not that he’s not growing up properly. Already, he’s a lot more mature than Jamie, but there’s something about Sam that will always be childlike. He’s so trusting, so good-natured. I’d almost say innocent. I used to worry about him so.’

‘But you don’t now?’

‘Oh, I suppose I do in an everyday sort of way,’ she admitted, ‘but since I was ill I seem to see things differently.’

‘Because you nearly died?’

‘Probably,’ she said, nodding. ‘I try to think about it, but I can’t make much sense of it yet. I feel even more grateful than I was before just to be alive, to have my family and my dear friends, but I accept now they could well manage without me were I not there.’

Rose paused, aware of the protest her friend was about to make.

‘I don’t mean my friends don’t care about me, or wouldn’t be grieved,’ she said quickly, ‘its just … I know there’s nothing I can do about living, or dying. It has to be accepted. So many things in life just have to be accepted,’ she went on, quietly. ‘There’s no use worrying about them. I’d never seen that before. And there’s a strange kind of relief in knowing that there’s no point in worrying.’

Lady Anne sat very still and said nothing. She waited to see if Rose would go on and when she didn’t, she took her hand.

‘You always were my teacher,’ she said quietly. ‘Don’t go and die on me. I need you. I sometimes think you are the only person in the world who understands me. Harrington tries and I can forgive him almost anything because he loves me so, but you know what goes on in my mind in a way even the dearest man can’t, especially when I don’t know what’s going on myself. Bless you, Rose. You’re beginning to look tired and its time you had a rest. I’ll walk up to your room with you.’

As the weeks passed, the summer weather continued fine and dry. With Rose’s progress obvious to everyone, only one thing marred Lady Anne’s joy, the absence of her dear Harrington. Each morning at breakfast she would rifle through the envelopes by her plate, opening first the missive addressed in his familiar hand. Short and loving, with kindly queries about their guests and good wishes for all their activities, he could only say there was still no date to offer, although the recess had now begun.

The Prime Minister had asked for discussions with some of his supporters from both houses. As the matter in hand was Ireland, and Harrington had been an Irish member for so long and still felt so strongly on matters Irish, he was an obvious choice. It was an honour and an opportunity which he couldn’t turn down, but only Lady Anne knew how much he missed his family and how he longed for the peace of Gloucestershire after months of being in London.

‘Oh, no,’ said Lady Anne, with a long drawn out sigh, as she scanned the familiar writing one delightful, sunlit Monday morning when, for the first time, a fresh breeze hinted at the possibility of autumn.

‘Not bad news, Mama,’ said Marianne quickly, as they all turned towards her and saw the troubled look on her face.

‘No, not bad news,’ she said quickly. ‘Tiresome news. Irritating news,’ she added, reassuring them. ‘Your father will be able to come down on Friday,’ she said briskly, ‘but he has agreed to invite Lord Altrincham,’ she added, with another heavy sigh. ‘Oh, he’s a sweet little man,’ she went on hurriedly, glancing across at Rose, ‘but his wife is just …’ She raised her hands in the air, completely at a loss for words.

‘And why is Lady Altrincham coming, Mama, if Father has business with His Lordship?’ asked Teddy coolly.

‘A good question, my dear Teddy,’ she said, dropping the letter dispiritedly beside her plate. She looked around the table as every eye rested on her, with a mixture of sympathy and curiosity.

‘At a guess the lady in question wishes to say she’s stayed at Ashley Park,’ she declared. ‘In fact, I’m absolutely sure she’ll indicate very cleverly that she is on intimate terms with each one of us whenever she’s given the slightest opportunity. We shall all have to be on our best behaviour for your father’s sake. She must have made it clear she wished to be invited,’ she went on, waving a hand towards the abandoned letter. ‘She knows perfectly well it’s the recess and there’s no real possibility of refusing her.’

‘For how long, Mama?’ asked Teddy, his face unmoved as he buttered another piece of toast.

‘Oh, just the weekend,’ she replied, wearily. ‘But that’s bad enough. Friday evening dinner. Entertainments laid on for on Saturday. Church on Sunday morning. Perhaps they’ll leave after lunch, if we’re lucky. I’m so sorry, my dears, this will be a dreadful bore for you,’ she said turning to Hannah and Sarah, who were listening quietly. ‘At least Marianne and Teddy are used to it.’

‘I think it might be rather interesting,’ said Sarah promptly.

‘Perhaps we could help in some way,’ Hannah added, glancing at Teddy and Marianne.

‘It’s very sweet of you to think of that,’ said Lady Anne, smiling for the first time. ‘I’ll give my mind to it. In the meantime, I want you young people to have a lovely week and try to forget all about it till the dressing bell rings on Friday evening. This is your holiday and I don’t want it spoilt by a nasty, bossy lady.’

In the five days that followed, the dust sheets were removed from the handsome, elaborately decorated and gloomy guest suite that looked out over the fountain, the newly-laid formal garden and the long gravelled drive. The gardeners were much in evidence outdoors. Indoors, flowers blossomed in unexpected places. The housemaids were unusually visible during the day. Even the stables appeared to be having a spring clean.

Rose was surprised at the change in Lady Anne. Although they enjoyed each other’s company, she found her friend very preoccupied. There was also a general air of tension which was quite new.

By the time the bell echoed through the house on Friday evening, family, guests and servants had all caught at least a glimpse of the very large coach with a newly- painted coat of arms on its shiny door, drawn by six matched horses and attended by two coachmen and two grooms. Sarah, Marianne and Hannah who’d shared Teddy’s binoculars and then positioned themselves carefully in the upstairs linen room, had a good view of the visitors themselves. A small man in a top hat and morning coat, who smiled cheerfully at everyone in sight, and a taller, gaunt woman, grey haired, sharp faced and opulently dressed, who made up for her husband’s amiability by not smiling at all.

‘She hasn’t improved any,’ said Marianne, as they removed themselves from the linen room and made their way back to Sarah and Hannah’s sitting room.

‘Have you met her before?’ Sarah asked, as they settled themselves comfortably.

‘Oh yes,’ she replied. ‘She came to my ball. I didn’t want to have them, but you have to do these things. If Mama hadn’t invited her, it would have been a snub to Lord Altrincham and apart from the fact that he’s really nice, he’s a colleague of Father, so there wasn’t much choice.’

‘But I thought balls were for getting girls married off,’ said Sarah abruptly. ‘Why do older people get invited?’

Marianne laughed, her dark eyes shining with mirth. She waved her hands around helplessly as if Sarah had said the wittiest thing. In a few moments Hannah and Sarah were laughing too. Although they didn’t quite see the joke, Marianne’s laughter was quite irresistible.

‘But, Sarah, you have to get them married to the right people,’ she explained, still laughing. ‘The parents come to make sure you don’t dance with anyone unsuitable. At least most of them do. Mama hates balls, but she goes in case I need rescuing from someone awful. She doesn’t interfere, but she’s there if I need an excuse to get away from someone, like the Altrinchams’ son. He is ghastly. He’s smaller than I am and he thinks he’s the catch of the season. And naturally his dear mama has her eye on me. You watch out for the way she says Dear Lady Marianne. She wouldn’t say good morning to me if Father weren’t an earl.’

‘Now then, Miss Sarah, you’ve done your own hair as you wish, but let me settle your dress,’ said Betty severely, as she came into her room, having left Hannah sitting by her window, her pale green silk dress decorated with rosebuds, her long fair hair piled up with ribbon to let her ringlets fall softly to her neck.

‘Stand still then, Miss Sarah,’ she went on, as she tweaked and smoothed with a practised hand. ‘Are you wantin’ a flower there at the neck like Miss Hamilton? It looks very well on her.’

‘Yes, I’m sure it does,’ Sarah agreed readily. ‘Anything looks good on my sister. But no thank you, Betty. I’m sure if I wore a rose it would droop, or fall off and leave me with the leaf and the pin. Better without.’

‘You look very nice, Miss Sarah,’ said Betty softening, her good eye looking her up and down. ‘That dark blue suits you fine though I’ve never seen a young lady wear just that shade,’ she added thoughtfully.

‘How kind of you, Betty,’ said Sarah, beaming with delight. ‘My sister’s the beauty in the family,’ she said, striking a lively pose, her chin up, her arms elegantly outstretched, ‘but I try not to let her down.’

She grinned at Betty as she pirouetted round the room in her first silk dress. To her further delight, she found she’d actually made her laugh.

There was a great deal of laughter over dinner, but not all of it was entirely comfortable. Lord Altrincham was exactly as Lady Anne had described him. Those who’d seen him arrive were not at all surprised to find he was lively, good-natured and a fund of amusing stories. His wife ignored most of them and certainly didn’t join in the laughter they produced. Observing her across the table, Rose wondered if the lady had decided that laughter was ill-bred.

Lady Altrincham’s sole contribution to the conversation was a detailed account of the recent Diamond Jubilee Celebrations. She seemed to be exceedingly well informed about exactly what had happened in which location, what the Queen had worn, who had attended her and what magnificent decorations and arrangements had been made to add to the splendour of the occasion.

When her host and hostess failed to do more than listen with polite attention, it dawned on Rose that this was Lady Altrincham’s strategy to draw out comments she could deploy on later occasions. To be able to quote Lord Ashley or his lady on the subject of the Jubilee would suggest a degree of intimacy very far from the truth. She was not at all surprised when Teddy took up the conversation. With considerable skill he engaged her with a stream of civil questions about the details of all she had said. He showed great interest in her replies, but used them only to initiate further questions rather than respond with comments of his own.

Sarah was fascinated by Lady Altrincham. She could now see why Lady Anne had been so upset at the prospect of her visit. The Lady was acting a part. She’d practised it well and was quite comfortable with her performance, but she was so busy thinking about herself, she’d no time for anyone else, particularly her rather nice husband beside whom she was sitting. Her Ladyship knew what she wanted and had a rather unpleasant, determined look which broke through her carefully composed expression from time to time, when other people were speaking and she was waiting for her next opportunity to respond.

Absorbed in her thoughts about what she had observed of the lady in action, Sarah was slow to react when the port came and the gentlemen rose to move back the chairs and let the ladies withdraw. Had she been on her feet already, she would not have seen the glance Teddy exchanged with Hannah as he leant towards her before stepping behind her chair, leaving the way free for her to follow the three older women. In the fleeting moment before she stood up, Sarah saw Hannah look up at Teddy and nod imperceptibly. His face softened and brightened, as he leant just close enough to her to brush her sleeve as she rose to her feet. He stood back and watched her as she followed Lady Anne, Lady Altrincham and her mother towards the double doors leading into the domed hall and the long, shallow staircase to the drawing room on the first floor.

For another moment her eyes followed her sister as she moved gracefully down the length of the long table. Then she collected herself, smiled warmly at Lord Altrincham who was waiting patiently, bent over her chair, his whiskery face close to hers.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly.

‘A pleasure, my dear.’

She moved steadily after the retreating figures, reminding herself not to hurry. Hannah and Marianne were now walking together, talking quietly, some distance behind the older women. Sarah took a deep breath to steady herself. She’d seen something no one else had seen nor was meant to see and it had shaken her. Now she knew why Hannah was looking so lovely this evening. She was in love with Teddy and he with her. If they hadn’t recognised the fact themselves, then it was only a matter of time before they found out, but she was pretty sure they knew.

As she made her way slowly upstairs to the great drawing room, she felt a great sadness come over her. Hannah was her dear sister, her only sister. They had always been so close, such good friends. They always would be, she was sure, but however close she and Hannah might have been in the past, the future would now be different.

Rose had explained to Sarah long ago the purpose of such very large rooms as the main drawing room of a big house, the opportunities it gave for private conversations, or for a little solitude, even when doing one’s social duty. With her mind full of what she had seen, Sarah longed to take advantage of the view from the window or the books of sketches laid out on little tables scattered about the room, but as she came into the room and saw the little group by the marble fireplace, she knew she must make an effort. Lady Altrincham had seated herself close by her mother, who looked composed, but not at all relaxed. Lady Anne was engaged in pouring coffee which Marianne was handing round.

‘My dear Mrs Hamilton,’ Lady Altrincham began, with a wintry smile, ‘I know so little about Ireland except what the dear countess has told me of the beauties of Kerry. I gather the Hamilton estates are in both Antrim and Down,’ she said, leaning forward confidentially.

Sarah sat down promptly at the far end of the long settee on which her mother sat, a position from which she could face them both.

‘Mama dear, do let me explain to Lady Altrincham about the Hamilton estates,’ she said politely. ‘You know you always get the dates wrong and the Johns and the Jameses mixed up,’ she said helpfully.

‘Willingly, Sarah,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m afraid, like my own mother, I have a memory for events, but not for their exact sequence,’ she explained, smiling agreeably at Lady Altrincham.

‘James Hamilton came to Ireland as an undertaker in 1606,’ began Sarah, in a relaxed manner.

‘What?’ spluttered Lady Altrincham, putting her coffee cup down hastily.

‘An undertaker, Lady Altrincham,’ Sarah repeated clearly. ‘He undertook to build a fortified house in each of his four territories in Antrim which he’d received by grant together with two granges, one friary, the lands of Castle Toome and the fishing on the Bann from Lough Neagh to the salmon leap,’ she continued fluently.

‘And did he fulfil all his undertaking?’ the older lady demanded, anxious their audience should put out of mind her unfortunate mistake.

‘No, of course not. He was far too clever for that,’ she replied cheerfully. ‘A fortified house costs a fortune. No, what James did was dispose of his Antrim holdings so that he could concentrate on the Down properties. Somewhere around 1606 he persuaded his two brothers Gavin and John to become denizens.’

Lady Altrincham was not going to make a second mistake. If she was unfamiliar with denizens she was certainly not going to admit it. She looked at Sarah attentively and nodded at suitable intervals as she continued her narrative. Sarah knew she wasn’t really listening, but everyone else was, so she warmed to her task and continued.

‘His chief aim was to rearrange his holdings, so as to make the most of the fertile, well-wooded peninsula of Ards. He was very successful in attracting Scottish settlers to his lands and in 1608, he was knighted, though at that point he hadn’t yet acquired Dufferin. But of course, he managed that quite soon afterwards.’

Sarah paused to take her coffee from Marianne and then continued.

She outlined the various manoeuvres, many of them distinctly dubious, by which James Hamilton and his brothers became the holders of enormous tracts of very productive land. She then proceeded to outline the activities of John Hamilton in Armagh, Robert Hamilton of Stanehous and their relationships with the Montgomery’s, the Chichesters and the O’Neills.

Rose sat fascinated by the compelling tale Sarah was able to make out of the Hamilton machinations. However dubious their methods, they had certainly achieved King James’s objective of re-settling the country with loyal subjects and developing its commercial potential.

‘What an interesting history, my dear,’ said Lady Altrincham sweetly when Sarah paused. ‘As you say, Sarah, three centuries later it is such an extended family. And such a successful one,’ she acknowledged, bowing slightly towards Rose. ‘I presume your family are still mostly associated with Dufferin and Clandeboye?’

‘Good heavens, no,’ said Sarah sharply, before Rose could open her mouth to reply. ‘We’ve been in Ireland much longer. We are the Hamiltons of Ballydown,’ she announced proudly, as the drawing room door opened and Lord Altrincham and Lord Ashley preceded Lord Cleeve across the wide spaces of carpet to where the ladies sat.

It was obvious next morning that Lady Anne had recovered her usual good spirits. After breakfast she offered Lady Altrincham a tour of the new formal gardens, the kitchen gardens and the greenhouses. There, she explained to the staff what an experienced gardener Lady Altrincham was and how valuable her comments would be on their current projects.

After lunch, Teddy insisted that Lady Altrincham be photographed with the family. When she agreed most readily, he and Sarah occupied her in the studio and the gardens for an hour or more until the whole family was available to pose for a long series of pictures. By the time they’d completed everything to their satisfaction, the lady in question felt the need to rest a little.

‘Well, how did it go?’ Hannah asked, as Sarah came into their sitting room and flopped down in a large comfortable armchair.

‘She’s gone to have a rest,’ she said thankfully. ‘Teddy was great. He kept taking long exposures, so she had to keep still. There’s only tonight to get through and Marianne says she’ll do foreign travel. Ask her advice. She’ll like that. She’ll talk about anything so long as she’s the centre of attention,’ she said sharply.

‘What will you do, Sarah? You were marvellous last night on the Hamilton’s. Ma said this morning she’d no idea what she was going to say and you rescued her beautifully.’

‘I really don’t know,’ Sarah replied, beaming with pleasure. ‘I’ll see how Marianne and Teddy get on. What’s Teddy thinking of for tonight?’

To her amazement, Hannah blushed.

‘He did very well last night too,’ Sarah said slowly. ‘He just needs you to encourage him a little,’ she went on with as much nonchalance as she could manage, her eyes averted as Hannah blushed even more deeply.