The morning after their quarrel, Margot avoided Elena. It was easy enough to skip breakfast in the dining room. She asked the maid to bring a cup of tea to her room instead.
She was finding it increasingly difficult to speak with her sister the way she had in the past. There had always been disagreements, and Margot felt guilty for those times when she had deliberately excluded her younger sister. Elena had always wanted to tag along, even though she could not keep up. Perhaps that was bound to happen, given the difference in their ages.
But really, Elena was being very mean-spirited now. It was no use pretending that Elena was happy for her. She was very clearly angry and jealous.
Margot thought about this for a moment and then reconsidered. No, she was wrong: Elena did not have her eyes on Geoffrey. In fact, she had made it quite clear that she disliked him. Margot knew her well enough to read it in her face. She was also certain that Elena was suspicious of Griselda. Had her sister been so hurt, so betrayed by Aiden Strother that she could not believe anyone, man or woman, was honest?
Margot did not know how to overcome these barriers. She and Geoffrey neither wanted nor needed anyone but each other. She certainly could not ask him to include Elena as a constant presence in their life together, like a younger sister being allowed to follow them everywhere! And it would not help her relationship with Elena. Indeed, when Elena saw how gentle he was, and how he was as good a friend to Margot as he was a husband, she would only feel more left out.
After drinking her tea, she dressed in a deep-rose-colored linen skirt and a silk blouse of exactly the same shade and went downstairs.
Breakfast was finished, and it took her a few minutes to find Geoffrey in the morning room, with the door open onto the terrace. His face lit up the moment he saw her, and he came over to her in a few strides.
“How are you? Did you sleep? You look marvelous.” His eyes swept up and down her gorgeous pinks, and she knew she had picked the right color. The right shape, too, with its gentle lines.
She smiled. “Yes, it took a while, but I slept very well, thank you.”
He frowned. “You are still worrying about your sister? I love you for it, but you can’t help her. She’ll just have to get used to the fact that you are going to have a different life from now on. She can come to visit occasionally, of course! But you and I are complete without her. That’s as it should be. If this Allenby chap were as much in love with her as I am with you, she wouldn’t give you a thought! And she certainly wouldn’t have you hanging around her. Honestly, darling, it’s time she grew up!”
Margot searched his face and saw only sympathy in it.
“We can take her out with us sometimes,” he offered with a lift in his voice. “Who knows whom she might meet?” He paused for a moment, his smile coming through. “No doubt we will go somewhere and see Edward and Wallis Simpson again. If you are in the right circles, it’s bound to happen.”
He put an arm around her and guided her toward the French doors and into the garden. “By the way, I want you to meet Sir Oswald Mosley. He is a most dynamic and interesting man, and head of the British Union, the Blackshirts. A bit right wing for you, at the moment, but a very engaging chap. And he’s quite clever, not at all the sort our ignorant left-wing papers describe him as. Europe is changing, which, of course, you know. Rebuilding.” He shook his head. “We have to, Lord knows. Rebuild, that is. The war changed just about everything. We can treasure the past, but we need to learn from it, too. Construct a future that does not repeat the old mistakes.”
Margot looked at the enthusiasm in his face and could not help smiling.
When he next spoke, his question caught her by surprise.
“How serious is your sister about Allenby?” he asked. “Do you know? I mean, can you read her, beyond what she is actually saying?” He turned very slightly. “Is she really in love with him, do you suppose? Because if she is, perhaps you should find out a little more about him. Discreetly, of course!”
Margot tried to think back. “I can’t remember her mentioning anything about him. But…” She was not sure if she should tell it at all, except that he had to know. Better she tell him now than he hear it from someone else and get the wrong side of the story. “Elena was with our parents on their recent trip to Washington. During that time, my maternal grandfather died, and rather tragically.” She took a deep breath. “He was accused of a horrible crime, which, of course, he did not commit! But the strain of it was dreadful, and he died of a heart attack. Mother was terribly upset about the accusations against her father and then the ordeal of his death. Father was an absolute rock.” She looked down, away from his eyes. “I don’t know how he could be so gentle, so exactly aware of when to say something and when to just stay silent. But I do know that he never left my mother’s side.” She paused, then added, “As for Allenby, I believe Elena met him there. I gather he was very helpful, but I have no idea in what capacity. Perhaps she read more into his actions than he meant.”
Geoffrey said nothing, but he smiled as if he understood. Neither he nor Griselda had mentioned their parents, and Margot knew enough not to ask. Everyone had things they would rather not discuss. She had not yet made any serious mistakes, but she would still rather not expose anyone else’s. It was a matter of decency. If you exposed your own family’s griefs and errors, whose would you not?
“Let’s go into the village, perhaps for lunch?” he suggested.
“Yes,” she accepted at once. “That would be lovely. It’s a day for being outside. This countryside is beyond marvelous. I’m not surprised people come here, even just for a day.”
“And we might get to live here.” He smiled with some secret pleasure, and perhaps gratitude.
But their little outing did not turn out as Margot had expected.
They parked the car and walked a short distance, just watching the people, speaking to a few that Geoffrey knew, nodding and smiling to others. And then they bumped into Griselda, whose face lit up immediately.
“I’m so glad you came to see the market,” she gushed enthusiastically to Margot. She waved her hand at the stalls.
Margot looked around. People were selling all kinds of fruits and vegetables, flowers, and handmade goods of many fabrics. There was hand-tooled leather, hand-thrown pottery, and even one stall selling handwoven scarves in wonderful colors. Some of the hues were soft, shading into one another, and while there were combinations that Margot would have thought to clash appallingly, they somehow complemented each other.
Geoffrey smiled as he watched her take in the sight. “You can find anything you want here, and even more that you don’t want. But the handweaving is particularly good. Some of the wool is handspun, and it’s fun to watch the process.”
Griselda glanced at the little watch hanging from a delicate chain around her neck. “Rushing off, sorry!” She waved goodbye, and then turned and walked away.
Margot and Geoffrey wandered around, admiring the items and chatting with people. He introduced her to several locals, and she felt the warmth of belonging.
It was nearly a half hour later when, quite suddenly, Griselda literally bumped into Geoffrey again. She was concentrating intensely on her conversation with the broad-shouldered man walking beside her.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Geoffrey!” she declared. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Entirely my fault.” She turned to Margot. “Didn’t I tell you this is a marvelous market? Cook always finds the best potatoes here. Freshly dug. They taste wonderful. I never used to think of potatoes as a delicacy, but these are, as if just out of the earth, and cooked while the skin is still on them.” She smiled and turned to the man beside her while still looking at Margot. “You know our chief constable, Captain Miller, don’t you?” She flashed a smile at the pair. “You remember Margot Driscoll, yes? She—”
“Of course,” he cut across her, smiling broadly. It creased his face in all the right places. He was taller than average, but today he was dressed more casually than when Margot had met him in his own house. He looked comfortable in a blue cotton shirt and slacks. “How nice to see you again, Mrs. Driscoll. I hope you will spend more time here in the Cotswolds? Perhaps even buy a house here. That and a flat in London would be the perfect way to live, don’t you think?”
That was easy to answer. “Indeed, I do,” she agreed. “I would be happy with far less, but yes, that would be perfect. Even if it has to be taken a little at a time.” She smiled. “Sip by sip?”
“How perfectly put.” He nodded. “I hope you will consider this place as your home. Bring your family here. They would all be most welcome. Miss Elena Standish is your sister, I believe? Most interesting young woman. A photographer, I think I was told?”
“Yes. Portraits and scenery. She mentioned something about using the village as a backdrop to her portraits.”
“Ah! What an excellent idea,” he said enthusiastically. “And there are dozens, if not hundreds, of people who would love to have such portraits made of them. I take it she really is good? Indelicate to ask, and I apologize for that, but if I were to suggest her to certain people such as Mrs. Simpson, for example—”
Margot felt a rush of pleasure and was about to mention the evening they had already spent at a party, also attended by the prince and Wallis Simpson, and that Elena had taken photographs of them, but Miller spoke before she had the chance.
“The photographs we have seen, taken by very famous portrait photographers, do not do Mrs. Simpson justice,” said Miller. He turned to Griselda. “Rather too formal, don’t you think? Don’t show how vivid her personality is. Her wit, her vitality. The utter charm of the woman. I think if people saw a better portrait of her, it would change their minds. Don’t you agree?”
Thoughts raced through Margot’s head. The possibilities were enormous if the prince and Mrs. Simpson approved of Elena’s photographs. So, when was Elena planning to show them to her? Would it be an overwhelming success for Elena or an embarrassing disaster? There could be no middle path.
Margot was not sure how to respond. He was offering to make introductions, but that meeting had already taken place. If she even suggested that Elena was less than professional, less than talented, it would make Margot look spiteful, even arrogant. If Elena got this right, it would make her entire career.
“Margot?” Geoffrey called, a bit of urgency in his voice.
Margot responded quickly. “Sorry, I was just anxious about what it could mean if she did not do it well, or if her subjects didn’t like her photos because they were too revealing. Mrs. Simpson is an unusual-looking woman,” she explained before smiling again politely. “Of course, it will be marvelous for Elena if she is pleased.”
Geoffrey laughed. “Indeed! I am not sure what to make of Elena yet, but one thing I am sure of is that she is brave enough to catch a character and reveal a personality rather than make a pretty picture that is flattering and deceives more than it reveals. Now, tell me that I am mistaken?” It was a question, definitely.
“No,” Griselda interrupted. “I think Elena might already have caught Mrs. Simpson’s intelligence, and above all her wit, which has rather a cutting edge to it, when they met the other evening.” She looked at Margot. “I can understand why you hesitate. This is an exceptional chance, with much to win or lose. Perhaps you don’t think she’s up to it? And either way, my dear, she’s clearly prepared to take the risk. I can understand that, to you, she will always be your baby sister, but you have to let her be herself to take chances now and then.”
Margot sensed a real insistence in her voice. She had to respond, and it had to be with the right words. She did not care what Miller thought of her, but she wanted Geoffrey to know that she was fair, and she needed Griselda to like her. And, more than that, to approve of her.
She had never realized how close Geoffrey was to his sister. They were not twins. In fact, she was a couple of years older than he, but they seemed to be able to read each other’s thoughts, and certainly their emotions. Once or twice, she had actually felt as if she were being excluded. That was ridiculous! She was about to become one of their family. Geoffrey and Griselda would always have their memories, those understandings that no one else could comprehend. They had shared a childhood.
Margot felt lucky Geoffrey was in love with her, and that was a whole other world in which no one else was included. For an instant, she remembered how it had been with Paul: the tenderness, the intimacy, the discovery of a realm only they had shared. Now she forced it away. It was over. She was beginning a new life with Geoffrey Baden. She must never make comparisons.
A thought ran through her that evoked sadness and longing. What she needed was her own sister back. But was it possible? Of course Elena envied her. Didn’t everyone want to be loved? In fact, need to be? It did not look as if it would be Allenby for Elena, but perhaps she would realize that, even this week. She must meet lots of people. The right man would come along.
“Margot?” Geoffrey nudged her gently.
“I think you should ask her to photograph you,” Margot responded, looking directly at Miller. “You would make a fine subject, sir. I’m sure Elena could find a background that would reflect your personality and the status of your office.”
He was clearly pleased. His expression broadened into a smile. “That is an excellent idea. Will you ask for me?”
Griselda looked at him with delight.
“Of course,” Margot agreed. It could be a great boost for Elena’s career. Perhaps it might even break this horrible tension between them. “I will ask her straightaway.”
“No, dear,” Griselda said gently. “It will look as if it was your idea. It would be better if I do. I will say, of course, that we were speaking of her work, and I thought that if your admiration rang true, and it was not just sisterly affection, then this would be a good idea. That way—”
“Even better,” Geoffrey interrupted, turning to Miller. “When she does a picture of you, then you can suggest all the others she might take.”
Griselda smiled widely and clapped her hands in excitement. “The beginning of an entirely different level of her career, and it will begin with the chief constable.”
Margot and Geoffrey spent the next half hour wandering around the market, sometimes with Griselda and Miller by their side. After a time, they excused themselves and returned to Geoffrey’s car, then drove out of the village and along the open road.
Margot was relieved to be away from the throng, including Griselda, but she felt likely to be misunderstood if she said so.
She took in the view of the next charming village, with its church spire rising up from the middle of so many thatched and slated roofs.
Geoffrey glanced at her, careful to watch the road at the same time. “You belong here, Margot. In a year or two, you’ll love this land as much as I do.”
She believed that. And she was warmed by the knowledge that they shared a strong and sweet love.
“And I will learn to like Elena,” he continued. “And, by heaven, I will make you so happy, and she will come to trust me. And in time, even to like me. And she’ll take pictures that will make her famous. Although the competition will be pretty fierce, I imagine she can take that?”
Margot smiled in spite of herself. “Oh, yes, certainly. I think she’s much tougher than she looks.”
“Is she? You’ve never told me much about her. You know my sister quite well, and you know that she likes you. That’s partly for yourself, your style, your elegance, your taste, but also a big part of it is because you make me happy. And,” he added, glancing quickly over to meet her eyes, “you fit in. Griselda is never afraid to introduce you to people. You always know what to say, and you never say too much.” He gave a slight shrug. “I imagine you are quite a lot like your mother.”
Margot leaned back in her seat, pleased. “You don’t know how much of a compliment that is!”
That was true. Katherine was a model of grace, courage, tact, and charm, even when it was extremely difficult to display these. And she was an American, not even a European, as one might expect of a British ambassador’s wife, especially in some of the capitals of Europe. She had fit in, and yet had never lost her own reality. Margot had never realized before quite how deeply she admired her mother. Perhaps she had always been trying to be like her. When she became a mother, would her children appreciate her in the same way?
“Thank you.” She squeezed his hand in appreciation.
“I do hope I meet her soon,” he said. “If you are like her, who is Elena like? Your father?”
“No.” Margot did not even have to think about that. “I’m not sure who she is like.”
“Your grandfather, perhaps, Lucas Standish?”
“In ways, I suppose.” But the thought did not fit. “I think if anyone, it’s Grandmother Josephine. But I never understood her very well. I love her. Who doesn’t love their grandmother? And she has always been kind to me. But yes, I think she prefers Elena because she understands her. Family relationships are very odd. We have ideas as to what they should be and try to force people into that mold. There was always more to my grandmother than I could grasp. She’s had a whole other life, and grandmothers aren’t supposed to!”
She laughed at herself a little ruefully. She was like her mother, and her father perhaps a bit. As for her brother, Mike, she could remember him with emotions too deep to share with anyone. His death had torn them all with pain, which she could only deal with by forgetting for great stretches of time that he would not come back. Not now, not sometime in the future. She missed his stories and his good jokes. The war had left such a deep hole in her family’s heart. She agreed with Geoffrey and his family: Another war would be devastating, and they must avoid it at all costs.
But now her future lay bright ahead. When her parents knew Geoffrey, they would see how happy he made her. She already felt so at home here in this wonderful countryside, where all of Geoffrey’s family accepted her. Elena was the only problem, and their quarrel was sure to pass.