chapter 50

As Lawrence drifted in and out of consciousness the siblings arrived. First Daphne from Dublin, then Gwyneth and His Grace from London. Then a pale and tired-looking Emily. To everyone’s relief Hugh had not come with her. Everyone sat around drinking tea and holding vigils by Lawrence’s bed. Margaret was a revelation. She didn’t falter once.

“Your mother is very strong,” said Arabella one night as she lay in bed with Charles.

“Not really. She’s just treating death in the same manner she treats every occasion in her life. It’s to be overseen with dignity and decorum.”

“But it’s her husband!” Arabella still couldn’t understand.

“It doesn’t matter. The pride and reputation of the family comes first, and she will make sure this is done the correct way.”

“It almost sounds heartless,” sighed Arabella.

“It’s not heartless, it’s just her. You’re not like that, so you’ll never understand her.”

What Arabella really dreaded was the arrival of Harrison and his wife who had sent back a telegram saying they were coming straight away. She had never imagined she would see Harrison again. He was just an echo from her past. And yet soon he and his wife would be here at Armstrong House. She didn’t know how she would behave to them or how they would behave to her. Would he still be angry and bitter? Would he ignore her? Would this new marvel of a wife insult her? Arabella gathered her nerve and prepared for the storm that was coming.

“Aren’t you nervous about seeing Harrison again after all these years?” she asked Charles in bed another night.

“I’m curious if anything. Curious to see what he’s become, curious to meet this wife.”

“I hope it won’t be awkward,” she said.

“Of course it will be awkward! But don’t worry, the little matter of Lord Armstrong’s death will take all the attention away from you!”

Charles sat at Lawrence’s side, watching him sleep. He continuously thought about the secret his father had shared with him. And as Charles watched him breathe slowly, he didn’t see the great Lord Armstrong any more, he saw a man who had been a fake all his life, even to his wife.

Charles leaned forward and whispered, “Why did you tell me? I didn’t want to know.”

The family were gathered in the drawing room late one afternoon when they suddenly heard the most extraordinary noise coming in the distance. James got up and raced to the window.

“It’s a motor car!” he said excitedly.

“Whoever is coming to us in a motor car?” said Margaret, getting up for a look.

The family all rose quickly and hurried to the window for a look as the motor car pulled up in the forecourt.

“It’s Harrison!” declared Emily.

“Indeed – who else?” said Charles as he strained to get a glimpse of his brother and his wife.

“And Victoria is driving it!” exclaimed Emily.

Arabella remained seated. She had known it would be Harrison without even looking.

Outside, Harrison got out of the motor car and took off his gloves as he stared up at Armstrong House.

“Has it changed?” asked Victoria, coming from around the side of the car and resting against his arm.

“No, it hasn’t changed, not one tiny bit,” he said.

The front door opened and the family came rushing out to greet them. Charles and Arabella stayed in the drawing room, looking out the window.

“The prodigal son returns,” said Charles.

“Harrison isn’t a prodigal son – I’m sure he’s never done anything wayward in his life,” said Arabella.

Charles turned to her. “Aren’t you going out to greet your boyfriend?”

“And aren’t you going out to greet your brother?” She fixed him with a look.

As Arabella heard everyone come into the hall, she went and sat down and tried to compose herself. A few seconds later the drawing room door opened and in came Margaret with Harrison and Victoria, followed by the rest of the family.

Harrison stopped suddenly as he saw Arabella sitting on a Queen Anne chair and Charles standing beside her.

Victoria saw the stern look on Harrison’s face and she quickly took in the couple already in the room. She suddenly broke away from the others, smiling as she crossed the room.

“Hello, I’m Victoria,” she said very warmly. “You must be Charles and Arabella.”

“Yes,” Arabella managed, the impact of seeing Harrison again only hitting her now.

“Welcome to Armstrong House,” said Charles.

“I was so looking forward to meeting you both – it’s unfortunate it’s not under happier circumstances,” said Victoria. She reached forward and kissed Charles on the cheek and then bent down and did the same to Arabella.

It was such a tender kind kiss that Arabella suddenly felt like crying.

Victoria turned around to the others. “Harrison, come and greet Charles and Arabella.”

Harrison nodded and slowly walked across the room.

“Charles,” he said on reaching them.

“Welcome home, Harrison,” said Charles and he put out his hand.

Harrison viewed the hand and for a moment it looked as if he would ignore it. But to everybody’s relief he took the hand and shook it.

Harrison then looked at Arabella.

“It’s good to see you again, Harrison,” said Arabella evenly.

Harrison nodded and bent down and kissed her cheek.

“You must be hungry – I’ll get Fennell to bring in something for you immediately,” said Margaret. “Of course we didn’t know when exactly to expect you so we are not quite prepared . . .”

“Oh, please excuse us,” said Victoria, registering the mild complaint from her hostess. “We really should have sent a telegram along the way. We docked the day before yesterday and set out to drive up here, staying in little Irish hotels on the way. As for food, we had a hearty breakfast this morning – rashers and sausages and this amazing thing called black pudding! So hearty I could hardly eat a bite when we stopped for lunch. So we can certainly last till dinner!”

Fennell came rushing into the room looking panic-stricken. “My lady, the doctor said you’re to come at once to his lordship.”

Margaret turned and began to walk quickly from the room, saying, “Harrison, quick, come with me, there mightn’t be much time.”

Everyone rushed out of the room, leaving Arabella alone. She stood up and walked over to the fireplace, her mind lost in thought after seeing Harrison again.

chapter 51

“It’s the end of an era,” said Margaret that evening as they all sat in the drawing room.

“That it is,” said Gwyneth, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.

“I’m so sorry he didn’t get to see the new century in a couple of months. He was so looking forward to 1900, and seeing the twentieth century,” sighed Margaret.

“I’m just glad we got to see him in time,” said Harrison.

“First thing in the morning we’ll start sending the telegrams. It will be a very big funeral,” said Margaret.

“Where will the service be?” asked Victoria.

“In the village church,” said Margaret. “It probably won’t be big enough to hold everyone, but it’s tradition for the Armstrongs.”

For a man who was never an Armstrong, thought Charles.

There was much crying echoing around the house from the servants’ quarters.

“Why do they have to wail and bellow like that?” asked Charles irritably.

“Nobody mourns like Catholics,” said Margaret. “I went down earlier to give them words of comfort and they were all on their knees praying for Lawrence, bless them all.”

“He was obviously much loved by everyone,” said Victoria who was sitting on a couch holding Harrison’s hand tightly.

James had been sitting in the far corner, his eyes red from crying.

“At least they know how to mourn him, Charles!” James suddenly said angrily, causing everyone to look at him. “At least they cared about him, unlike you!”

“James, shut up, you’re being ridiculous,” snapped Charles.

“No, I’m not! I heard you shouting at him in the library the afternoon he collapsed. I heard the screaming match you were having!”

“James, you know nothing about it,” snapped Charles, looking over at Harrison and Victoria who were listening attentively.

“You were always having rows with him, causing him stress. You lost him his prize house in London with your deceit and your tricks, which he never recovered from. You killed him!”

“His heart killed him, you stupid boy!” shouted Charles.

“You killed him as much as if you’d drowned or shot him!” shouted James as he rushed from the room and slammed the door behind him, leaving everyone to look uncomfortably at each other.

“I’m sorry, Victoria, what must you think of us?” said Margaret eventually.

“Oh, I never think anything of anybody at times like this – people say things when they are distraught,” said Victoria with a reassuring smile.

“Poor James,” said Margaret. “He’s taken it very badly – they were very close, you know.”

“James will be lost without him,” Arabella said, unsettled by the things James had said about Charles.

Charles wanted to say so much about James in his own defence, but as he looked at Harrison and Victoria he knew their presence was stopping him.

Victoria stood up. “You know, I’m tired from all the driving – I think I need to go to bed.”

“Of course. In fact, I think we all need to go to bed – we have much to do over the next few days,” said Margaret, standing up.

Charles didn’t go to bed with the rest of them. He stayed up drinking into the night.

At about two he opened the front door and walked across the forecourt and stood staring out at the gardens below him and the lake stretching into the distance. It was now all his, he was the new Lord Armstrong. He heard a noise behind him and turned to see Arabella walking towards him.

She stood beside him. “Aren’t you coming to bed?”

“I suppose,” he agreed.

“What was James talking about? A row you had with Lawrence?”

“Nothing, we had a disagreement over wheat-pricing, that’s all,” Charles lied.

“I see,” said Arabella.

Charles turned and they began to walk across the forecourt together.

“Showing me up like that in front of Harrison and Victoria! James would want to realise who’s in charge around here now and watch what he says.”

“I don’t think anything James could say would influence opinions they have already formed about us,” said Arabella, as they reached the front steps of the house.

Charles paused and he held out his arm to her. “Lady Armstrong?”

She smiled at him and took his arm, and they walked in and closed the door behind them.

True for Margaret, Lawrence’s funeral was a huge occasion. Not only did dignitaries come from far and near but hundreds of locals thronged the green outside the church.

Gwyneth, who had announced she was pregnant again, left soon after to return to her other three children and duties waiting in England. Daphne returned to Dublin and her children. Emily seemed in no rush to return to London. She had purposely not sent a telegram to Hugh to inform him of Lawrence’s death as she really didn’t want him coming. She pretended to everyone that he was travelling abroad. But the reality was she couldn’t cope with him arriving and showing her up in front of everyone with his brutish manners, the way he had when they went to Newport for Harrison’s wedding.

She loved being back at Armstrong House in her old room. She realised she never appreciated what she had when she was there. Now she dreaded returning to her marriage. She had listened to Gwyneth and Daphne and Arabella discuss their children with joy, feeling like an outsider with none of her own. But the fact was she really didn’t want any. The idea of having a child with Hugh had become repellent to her. Even for him to touch her repulsed her now.

She was out riding with Charles on the estate a couple of weeks after Lawrence’s funeral.

He observed her sitting elegantly side-saddle and laughed.

“What’s funny?” she asked.

“I’m laughing at you! You hated riding side-saddle and only did it when you had to. Why are you riding side-saddle now with nobody around to observe?”

“I always ride side-saddle nowadays. There’s something very uncouth doing it the other way, I think.”

She seemed to have changed a lot, Charles thought.

“How’s Hugh?” asked Charles. He had purposely avoided talking about Hugh as he was still so angry with him.

“Hugh is Hugh!” said Emily. “I don’t think he’ll ever change, regardless of how much money he makes or how many dancing lessons he takes. Charles . . . can I ask you something?”

“Of course!”

“There seems to be so much about Hugh that I don’t know, even now after being married to him. Do you know anything about him, being his friend?”

“I don’t know if Hugh and I were ever friends, so no, I don’t know anything,” said Charles, thinking back to that night when Hugh had taken him on that journey into the darkness of the East End of London.

“Don’t tell anyone this . . . I know I can trust you . . . sometimes he disappears for days and I never know where he’s gone to.”

“I see,” said Charles, thinking of the opium den that Hugh had shown him.

“And then when he comes back he looks like he’s a different person. Other times he locks himself in his bedroom, and won’t come out for days, only allowing food to be delivered to his room.”

“His room?”

“Yes, we often have separate bedrooms. I prefer it like that, I think he does too, to be honest. I think I’m a terrible disappointment to him.”

“Surely not? He was desperate to marry you.”

“He was desperate to acquire a mill in Yorkshire last month as well. Once he got that, he never bothered talking about it or visiting it again either!”

“When are you going back to London?”

“Soon, I suppose. I have to get back or otherwise he’ll arrive over here looking for me.”

Charles looked at his sister who seemed so miserable and remembered his part in her marriage.

“Come on,” he said, turning his horse. “We’d better get back to the house.”

Victoria loved Armstrong House and Ireland. She had heard Harrison talking so much about it, but actually being there and seeing it was an entirely different matter.

There had been so much going on and so many people visiting Armstrong House in the aftermath of Lawrence passing away that they hadn’t been alone much with Arabella and Charles, which was the thing they were dreading. But Victoria had observed the two of them from afar. She judged Arabella to be very beautiful with a refined manner. She had wondered over and over again since meeting Harrison what this woman would be like, this woman who had broken Harrison. She had thought Arabella would be some kind of ogre. But Arabella didn’t come across like that. Victoria thought Arabella wasn’t an open and carefree woman like Gwyneth and Daphne. But she imagined Arabella hadn’t done anything on purpose all those years back, and had never intended to cause Harrison such hurt. The trouble was, watching Harrison near Arabella made her aware that he still didn’t see it that way. He still viewed her with suspicion and contempt. The relationship between Harrison and Charles was beyond strained, Victoria thought, and was truly broken. It saddened her.

With the others gone, only Victoria, Harrison and Emily joined Charles, Arabella and Margaret for dinner that evening.

“Where’s James tonight?” asked Harrison.

“Oh, James rarely joins us for dinner in the big house. He’s off doing whatever James does,” said Charles.

“James works very hard on the estate,” said Margaret. “Night and day.”

“He’ll be a big help to you running this place,” said Victoria. “It’ll be quite a responsibility minding all these tenants.”

“Not at all, Victoria,” said Charles sitting back arrogantly. “I’m very much looking forward to taking over. I’ve a lot of ideas how the estate should be run in the future. We need to move with the times.”

“Father ran this place excellently,” said Harrison coolly.

“Of course he did! I’m not saying that. I’m just saying we’re on the cusp of a new century. It’s going to be the twentieth century in a few weeks and we need to enter the twentieth century like the rest of the world.” Charles looked at Victoria. “You know what I mean, Victoria, being an American. Americans aren’t frightened of the future.”

“Oh, I don’t know, Charles. My country isn’t perfect either. It’s all about profit. I think the way of life is so perfect here. I hope you don’t do anything to tamper with life on the estate too much,” she said, smiling hopefully.

He smiled back at her and nodded.

“You might think it’s all very quaint here, Victoria,” said Arabella, smiling, “but you don’t have to put up with the plumbing that takes hours to heat up. I’m sure you don’t have that in Newport.”

“True! But I think I could put up with a little faulty plumbing to have this beautiful countryside on my doorstep,” smiled Victoria.

“How are your parents, Arabella?” asked Harrison.

Arabella got a start, it was the first time he had addressed or looked at her since they had arrived and she found herself going red. “Very well, thank you. Papa has retired now so he has more time on his hands to do whatever he wants.”

“Tell them I was enquiring after them – they were very kind to me,” said Harrison.

Arabella nodded and quickly continued with her soup.

Victoria leaned over and kissed Harrison and held his hand.

Charles stood at the drawing-room window, watching Harrison and Victoria frolic around their Mercedes Benz. He observed them intently: they seemed so blissfully happy together.

Arabella walked in and came up to him just in time to see the motor car drive off from the forecourt.

“Where are they going?” asked Arabella.

“Who knows? Off on one of their day sojourns again. Quite remarkable, a woman driving a motor car like that!”

“She seems quite a remarkable woman full stop,” said Arabella.

“You wanted to see me?” asked James, coming into the library where Charles was sitting at the desk.

“Yes, take a seat,” ordered Charles and James sat across the desk from him.

Charles sat back and observed his brother. “I’m willing to forgive your despicable outburst in front of the family, but I’m warning you nothing like that must ever happen again.”

James looked at him defiantly. “You know what I was saying was the truth.”

“I know no such thing! I know that you have been allowed to run around this estate as if you own it. And I’m now making myself very clear that you don’t. You might be my brother, but you’re also my employee and I will not be disrespected by you like you have done in the past. Do I make myself clear?”

James stared at Charles with hatred.

“Well?” Charles pushed.

James nodded.

“Good, and now we can get on with the running of this estate. There’s going to be changes, and big changes. Father let the tenants run serious arrears. I’m not going to allow that in the future.”

“You can’t get blood from a stone, Charles! If they don’t have money to pay rents, then they don’t have it!”

“They have money all right. They have money for drinking in the bars in Castlewest every night and those dances they are always having. You should know, James, you go to enough of them with your lady friend from the town.”

James looked at him with contempt and surprise.

“Oh, I don’t care what you get up to in your private life. Although I have to say you’re letting the side down with that riff-raff. I don’t know what Mother would ever say if she knew.”

“That is none of your business!”

“No, but my business is running this estate as I want it run. And you will co-operate with me . . . I think we understand each other.” Charles finished talking and began to look through paperwork.

James sat glaring at him in anger.

Charles looked up at him. “Don’t you have any work to do?”

James stood up and stormed from the library. Victoria was coming down the stairs and nearly bumped into him.

“James, is everything all right?” she asked, seeing he was close to tears.

James didn’t answer her but stormed out the front door.

chapter 52

Emily reluctantly got out of the hansom cab in London and looked up at the house in Hanover Terrace. She climbed the steps to the front door and knocked loudly. A minute later the butler answered.

“Oh Lady Emily, we weren’t expecting you,” he said, surprised.

“No, I didn’t wire ahead. Has everything been all right here?” she asked.

“Yes, eh, fine, Lady Emily.”

“My trunk is in the cab if you can have the footmen get it?”

“Certainly.”

“Is Mr Fitzroy home?” she asked.

“Eh, yes, I’ll just go and tell him you are here,” said the butler, rushing for the stairs.

“No need,” she said, taking off her coat and gloves and putting them on a side table. “Just get my trunk.”

The butler reluctantly went to find the footmen.

As she slowly walked up the stairs she got the strong smell of something she didn’t recognise and something she didn’t like. She crossed over the corridor to the drawing room and opened the door.

The room was dimly lit as she walked in. There, stretched across the couch, was a half-naked Hugh smoking an opium pipe. On either side of Hugh on the couch were two half-naked women, one white and one black.

Emily got such a shock she could only stand and stare.

“I think you have a visitor,” said one of the women, nodding over at Emily.

Hugh opened his bleary eyes and looked over at his wife.

“Ah, you’re back, are you?” he drawled.

Emily turned and ran from the room. She could hear the three of them laughing loudly as she ran all the way upstairs. Reaching her bedroom she locked the door, leaning against it, panting in distress. She could still hear their cackling laughter downstairs.

Arabella sat at her bedroom window looking out at the terraced gardens as Harrison and Victoria walked down the steps to them hand in hand. They seemed so much in love, she thought. Harrison was such an attentive, loving husband. But then she wasn’t surprised – he had been such an attentive loving fiancée to her. Watching them together was a stark reminder of how her own marriage was so different. She was so used to the arguments and deceit in her own marriage, she forgot how it could be otherwise. As she watched them walk off to the lakes she couldn’t help but feel jealous. What would her life be like if she had never been seduced by Charles? Would she be in this kind of a loving marriage with Harrison now? She reached forward and poured another glass of gin for herself from the bottle on her dressing table.

There was a knock on the door.

“Lady Armstrong, may I speak to you?” came a shrill Scottish voice from behind the door.

Arabella was still finding it strange to be addressed as Lady Armstrong.

She quickly hid the gin bottle and said, “Come in!”

Miss Kilty, the latest governess, walked in.

“Lady Armstrong, I’m sorry to disturb you,” Miss Kilty began.

“Well, why disturb me then?” asked Arabella, not in the mood for another lecture from a governess.

“Well, I have to – it’s about your children.”

“And here was me thinking it was about the weather,” Arabella said sarcastically.

“Prudence or Pierce did not show up for their lesson today – they’ve been missing all day,” informed Miss Kilty.

“Missing?” said Arabella, shocked.

“Well, when I say missing, I know where they are. They’ve run off to accompany Lord Charles on estate business.”

“Oh, I see,” said Arabella, relaxing.

“I don’t think that you do, Lady Armstrong! The child Prudence is running wild!”

Arabella looked out the window and saw Harrison and Victoria kissing. She turned around and said, “I do see very clearly, Miss Kilty. I see a woman who is supposed to be in charge of my children and not keeping close guard on them.”

“But –”

“My children are highly sensitive, intelligent children –”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Miss Kilty, looking around the room dismissively.

“And they need a governess with those qualities, which you obviously don’t have. You can leave at the end of the week.”

Miss Kilty nodded. “As you wish, my lady.”

“I do wish!”

Miss Kilty turned and left.

Arabella grabbed the bottle of gin, refilled her glass and drank it while looking out at Harrison and Victoria getting into a rowing boat and rowing out on the lake.

chapter 53

Charles knocked on the door of his parents’ bedroom.

“Come in!” said Margaret. Charles walked in and found Margaret writing at her bureau.

“So many letters to answer, so many kind words from friends of your father,” said Margaret, putting her fountain pen down.

“Yes, I can imagine,” said Charles, looking around the bedroom.

“Can I help you with anything, Charles?”

“I wanted to speak to you about your plans for the future.”

“Well, I’ve no immediate plans. All my plans revolved around Lawrence and my children. And now that Lawrence is gone and all my children married off, nearly, what is left for me to do?”

“I was thinking that you probably would like your own space,” said Charles.

“I don’t think I quite understand?”

“Well, this room is traditionally always taken by Lord and Lady Armstrong,” he pointed out.

“Oh, I see, you want my bedroom, do you?” She looked cynically at him.

“Well, I thought, and it’s just a thought, that you would like your independence.”

“In what way?”

“Hunter’s Farm is such a pretty house, don’t you think?”

“Yes, it’s a lovely old Georgian house,” she agreed, thinking of the small manor house a couple of miles away.

“Did you ever think about moving into it?”

“Well, I hadn’t actually, no. But you obviously have!”

“I think it might be for the best in the future. It would give you independence and, to be honest, your presence here at Armstrong House will always undermine Arabella’s position here.”

“Arabella’s position? It doesn’t exist! She doesn’t do anything!”

“Exactly. The staff and guests will always see you as Lady Armstrong and not her. So I think it’s a good idea if you move to Hunter’s Farm.”

Margaret’s face was stern. “I’m not saying it’s not customary for the Dowager to be moved on once her husband has deceased, but I didn’t expect to be given my marching orders quite so soon!”

“Well, it’s not me, Mother. It’s Arabella. Let’s face it, the two of you don’t get on – and two women who don’t agree under the same roof . . .”

“So she’s behind this, is she?”

“I think it’s for the best, don’t you?” He smiled sympathetically at her.

Arabella was in the small parlour when Margaret came marching in.

“I’ll be gone by the end of the week, you’ll be glad to know!” announced Margaret.

“Gone where?” Arabella shook her head in confusion.

“I’m going to live in Hunter’s Farm as you requested,” said Margaret.

“I didn’t request any such thing – it’s the first I’ve heard of it,” said Arabella.

“Oh come on, Arabella, don’t lie to me and insult my intelligence. You know, you’re such an ambitious woman, nothing gets in your way. I think it was always your plan to be Lady Armstrong. I think you used Harrison all those years back to get in with the family and then snare Charles. And you’ve been waiting your moment all these years so you can take over here, and now your opportunity has come.”

“Margaret, you’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I indeed? Well, you’re welcome to it all, Lady Armstrong. I’ll be quite happy down in Hunter’s Farm away from you. We’ll see how long you last running a house like this, a responsibility which you’re completely lacking in ability for.”

Arabella stood up angrily. “Do you know something? I had nothing to do with this plan of yours to move to Hunter’s Farm – but I think it’s an excellent idea!”

Arabella walked past her out of the room and got a start when she came out as she found Victoria standing there. Arabella walked past her and up the stairs.

Arabella waited for Charles to come home and then confronted him in the drawing room.

“Your mother is under the impression I asked for her to move out!”

“I wonder where she got that impression from?”

“From you, of course, you idiot!”

“Well, I said nothing – you know how she likes to blame you for everything.”

“I put her straight – not that she believed me.”

“Oh it’s all for the best! You don’t want her here checking on us all the time, undermining us. We’re Lord and Lady Armstrong now, and everyone had better get used to it.”

“If they don’t I’m sure you’ll make them so!”

Charles walked into the library and found Victoria there looking through books.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she excused herself, standing up.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked, smiling at her.

“No, I was trying to find out about the history of the house and the Armstrong family. I love family history and you have such an interesting one.” She closed the books and put them back on the shelves. “I know this is your place of work, so I’ll get out of your way.”

“No, please, don’t leave on my account. Take as much time as you want,” Charles urged.

“Have you seen Harrison anywhere?”

“I passed him on the stairs earlier – he didn’t stop to chat.” Charles looked disappointed.

She studied his face. “You know I’ve only ever heard Harrison’s side of the story of what happened all those years ago, but I think it wasn’t as cut and dried as people make out.”

“Is anything ever?”

“Not in my experience, no. I think you loved Arabella very much, didn’t you?”

Charles nodded appropriately.

“I know Harrison used to adore you before all that happened. He held you in such high esteem, perhaps that’s why it hit so hard.”

“And I adored Harrison. He was my best friend as well as my brother. I’d do anything to get that friendship back.”

“Give him time, Charles.”

“How much time does he want? It’s over ten years.”

“But he’s been away all that time, nurturing and analysing the hurt caused. If he stayed here he would have had to have dealt with it.”

“I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me.”

“I think he will, I think in his heart he already has, but is afraid to show it. He’s afraid to trust you again . . . I for one, Charles, am very glad you did what you did back then.”

“You are?” he said, shocked.

“Of course! If you hadn’t done what you did you wouldn’t have your wonderful children Prudence and Pierce . . . and I wouldn’t have Harrison.”

Charles smiled at her.

“Anyway, we should be gone soon and out of your hair, you’ll be glad to know.”

“Oh no, I very much enjoy you being here,” he said earnestly. “Please stay for however long you want. Could I ask a favour though?”

“Of course.”

“I want to buy a motor car, having seen yours. Could you give me the name of the place you got it from?”

“Yes, my grandfather arranged it for us to collect it in Cork. I’ll contact them and arrange it for you. They are very pricey though.”

“No matter – the price doesn’t matter.”

Harrison and Victoria were walking along the shingled beach at the lake, their arms around each other’s waists.

Harrison was recounting tales of his childhood. “Christmas was always so special at Armstrong House. We were one big happy family.”

“It sound idyllic. It’s all exactly as you described it.”

“I don’t think so. The closeness we all had seems to be going quickly, if not gone.”

“Harrison, I was thinking, we don’t have to return to the States, you know.”

“Well, what else would we do?”

“We could stay here.”

“In Armstrong House?” he said incredulously.

“Of course not, but we could get our own house here. Rent a place for now.”

“Have you lost your mind? What about our life in America?”

“What about it? It’ll be there waiting for us if we decide to go back. We’re wealthy – we can do anything we want, live anywhere we care to.”

Harrison stopped and looked at her. “I don’t think you’re thinking straight.”

“I always think straight. And what I see here is a family in crisis. I heard James and Charles argue terribly last week. I heard Arabella and your mother argue the other day. Emily is obviously miserably unhappy with whatever is going on in her life. And the feud between you and Charles is so destructive.”

“We’ve actually managed to be very civil to each other under the circumstances,” Harrison pointed out.

“‘Being civil’ doesn’t constitute a good relationship, Harrison.”

“It’s the best we can have under the circumstances.”

“Circumstances that happened years ago. From what I see he’s trying to hold out the hand of friendship to you desperately and you’re ignoring it.”

“That’s because I don’t want it!”

“Harrison!” She lost patience. “Has Lawrence’s death shown you nothing? Life is too short not to be friends with your family. Because of this feud with Charles you’ve missed all these years with your father and you’ll never get them back now. Do you want to have regrets in the future that you didn’t spend time now with your mother and family, when they so desperately need you?”

“I don’t think they need me.”

“They do. It seems to me, this family started falling apart when you left for America. You’re such a balanced person, Harrison, and this family needs a balanced person. If you walk away from them now, I don’t know where this family will end up in the future.”

“You know your problem, Victoria? You think you can heal everything and everyone.”

“I healed you, didn’t I?” she smiled at him.

“But my family is not your problem to heal.”

“Harrison – what’s my name?”

He looked at her confused and answered, “Victoria Van Hoevan.”

“No! My name is Victoria Armstrong, and this family is my family, and I want to know them and love them.”

“But – but – could you really live here?”

“Of course I could. I love the people, the scenery, the food. And it would be a wonderful base for us to travel around Europe which we always wanted to do.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Maybe there’s another reason you don’t want to stay here?”

“Like what?”

“Arabella? Maybe you still have feelings for her. I can see how you fell in love with her in the first place.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, she means nothing to me!”

“Good – glad to hear it! Then there’s nothing stopping us from living here,” she said, smiling at him.

chapter 54

Arabella was sitting in the drawing room reading to Pierce and Prudence as Charles read the newspaper when they heard the sound of a motor car.

“Are Harrison and Victoria back so soon?” asked Arabella.

“No, it’s Papa’s new motor car!” shrieked Prudence excitedly as both children went rushing out the door.

“What new motor car?” asked Arabella.

Charles put down the paper and went to the window. “Oh yes, they’ve delivered it up from Cork.”

“You didn’t say anything about getting a motor car,” said Arabella, alarmed, as her husband’s expensive tastes seemed to have returned in full force since he had come into his estate.

“Didn’t I?”

“Where did you get it from?”

“Victoria organised it all for me, and she managed to get me a discount into the bargain.”

“Did she indeed?” asked Arabella, as she joined her husband and viewed the vehicle which the children were now climbing all over.

“It’s a fine job.”

“But you don’t even know how to drive the thing!”

“Victoria said she’d teach me.”

“Does the girl have no limitations?”

“Are you coming out to inspect it?” he said, heading to the door.

“No, I’ll give it a miss,” said Arabella irritably.

Charles got into the driving seat of the motor car and Victoria sat beside him. Harrison sat into the back, stoney-faced.

“Now what do I do?” asked Charles, smiling.

Victoria gave him instructions and he followed them. Harrison went to wind up the handle in front of the car and then quickly got into the back again.

“That pedal is the accelerator for going forward and that one is for going back, and that’s the brake,” instructed Victoria.

“Easy-peasy,” said Charles confidently as the motor car took off in a series of jerks. Suddenly the vehicle rushed forward at high speed.

“Take your foot off the accelerator!” screamed Victoria as the car sped across the forecourt.

“Which one is the accelerator?” shouted Charles.

“The left!” shouted Harrison.

“The right!” corrected Victoria.

The car continued at high speed as Charles desperately tried to gain control. The car suddenly shot through the opening in the wall and started bouncing down the steps to the first terraced garden.

“The brake! Pull the bloody brake!” screamed Harrison.

The car continued through the next opening at the end of the terrace and bounced down the steps there as well.

“We’ll end up in the bloody lake!” screamed Harrison as the car made its way to the next opening.

Charles suddenly swerved the car into a large flower bed and it came to an abrupt halt on top of it.

The three of them sat in dazed silence for a while.

“Not as easy as it looks!” said Charles eventually.

Victoria looked at him and then burst out laughing. The two men looked at her and then they started laughing loudly as well.

That night the family sat around the dining table having dinner.

“Honestly, Charles, you need to be more careful,” warned Margaret. “We don’t want to lose two Lord Armstrongs in a matter of months.”

“I think Charles has the making of being an excellent driver,” Victoria reassured him.

“The motor car lodged on top of the flower bed indicates otherwise,” said Arabella, drinking her wine.

“All he needs is a bit of experience. He’s an excellent horseman and that shows he’ll be an excellent driver,” said Victoria.

“Hope springs eternal,” said Arabella.

Victoria looked over at Harrison and he nodded to her.

“We’ve got a bit of news ourselves,” smiled Harrison. “We’re not going back to the States, not yet anyway.”

“What do you mean?” asked Margaret.

“We’ve decided to stay here. We’re going to rent a house and live here, see how we like it,” said Victoria.

“I can’t believe it!” said Margaret, thrilled, tears coming to her eyes. “I’m getting my son back!” She jumped up and hugged Harrison tightly before hugging Victoria.

“Well, that is excellent news!” said Charles, getting up and kissing Victoria. “Isn’t it, Arabella?”

“Wonderful!” said Arabella, unsmiling.

Charles walked over to Harrison. “Welcome home, brother!” He stretched his hand out to Harrison. Harrison glanced over at Victoria who nodded encouragingly at him. He took Charles’ hand and shook it, smiling at him.

“Won’t you miss New York and Rhode Island?” asked Arabella, concerned.

“Not really. I love it here. And it gives me the chance to really get to know you all, which is what I really wish for.”

“You know, I’m going to help you find a place to live. I know all the places around here that are available,” said Charles.

“Would you, Charles?” said Victoria appreciatively.

“I don’t think you’ll find anywhere that will match what you’re used to in Newport,” said Arabella.

“Oh, we don’t want something palatial. Just something quaint. Maybe we should move into a little peasant’s cottage,” laughed Victoria.

“I can’t see it somehow,” said Arabella.

Charles drove along the road with Victoria beside him and Harrison in the back seat.

“Where are we going, Charles?” asked Victoria. They had already travelled fifteen miles from Armstrong House.

“Nearly there!” said Charles as he drove through a gateway of a large white house with tall windows.

“What do you think?” he asked, getting out of the car and leading them to the front door which he opened with a key.

Victoria walked quickly through the large airy bright house.

“It’s wonderful!” she exclaimed as she walked to the back of the long drawing room which had French windows. “Harrison, look!”

She opened the windows and walked out. There was a long garden that backed onto a beach.

“That’s why the house got its name – Ocean’s End,” explained Charles. “It’s been for rent for a while, and I thought it would be perfect for you.”

“Ocean’s End – it is perfect, Charles,” said Victoria happily.

chapter 55

The last Christmas of the century came and went and everyone was excited as the dawn of the new century approached. Charles decided to have a ball at the house to celebrate the new century, and on New Year’s Eve the house was a flurry of activity as everyone prepared for the ball that night.

Arabella was being helped change into a glittering sequined violet ball gown by her dresser. She was sitting at her dressing table putting on her earrings when Charles came out of the dressing room, fixing his gold cufflinks on his shirt.

“It’s started to snow,” he said, looking out the window.

She stood up and turned around.

“You look very beautiful tonight, darling,” he complimented her.

“Thank you,” she smiled.

He came over and kissed her. She sighed and kissed him back. If only it could be like this all the time, she thought.

Charles was in his element. It was the first ball at the house since he became Lord Armstrong. He had instructed the staff that no expense was to be spared. Arabella nearly trembled when she heard Charles use that expression as she remembered how his past extravagance had left them penniless and destitute. He offered her his arm and they left the bedroom and walked down the corridor and down the staircase.

Fennell was busy instructing the staff who were running here and there.

They heard a motor car outside.

“It looks like Harrison and Victoria are the first to arrive,” said Charles.

“Punctual as ever,” said Arabella.

Fennell opened the door and a few seconds later Victoria and Harrison rushed in, shaking snow off themselves.

“Happy New Year, everybody!” said Victoria, taking off her cape and handing it to Fennell.

“The snow is coming down in buckets out there,” said Harrison, shaking the snow off his hair.

“Happy New Year, Arabella,” Victoria kissed her, “and Charles,” and she kissed him warmly.

“What you need is hot whiskey. Fennell!” said Charles.

Fennell arrived carrying a tray full of tumblers of Jameson.

“That’s twenty-year-old malt whiskey,” said Charles.

“We’ll all be a century older in a few hours,” joked Harrison.

Margaret came down the stairs. “Happy New Year, my darlings!” She kissed Harrison and Victoria.

The sound of carriages came from outside.

“Looks like they’re all arriving,” said Arabella.

“Do you know Colonel Tommy Radford is coming tonight with his new bride?” said Margaret. “I can’t wait to see her.”

“Who is Tommy Radford?” asked Victoria.

“Well, my dear, he’s this older bachelor with a long illustrious career in the army, mainly overseas in the colonies. He lives the other side of Castlewest. Well, he went off to the Boer War in South Africa and has arrived back with, I believe, a bride!”

“But he must be in his sixties!” said Charles.

“If he’s a day! Took us all by surprise, I can tell you,” said Margaret.

“Quick! Stand to attention at the doors!” Fennell ordered the footmen as he opened the doors to let the first of the guests in.

It didn’t take long for the downstairs of the house to be filled, as champagne and wine was circulated by the staff to the elegantly dressed guests.

“Lady Armstrong, Happy New Year!” said Tommy Radford, appearing at her side.

“Colonel Radford, I’m so glad you could come. Did you bring your wife?” asked Margaret, looking anxiously at the array of women close by.

“Yes, indeed. Marianne!” he called and a very pretty blonde woman who looked not yet thirty stepped forward.

“I’m pleased to meet you all!” said Marianne in her South African accent as she smiled pleasantly at the whole gathering of the Armstrong family.

“And you, my dear!” said Margaret, shocked at her youth.

“I’ve heard so much about your family, I feel as if I know you already,” said Marianne.

“Well, the Colonel is one of our oldest –” Margaret stopped as she became conscious of the thirty-year age-gap between the two, “– I mean, dearest friends.”

“I have to say, as much as I love being here, the weather is frightful! We don’t get this back in the Transvaal!” said Marianne.

“I’m sure you don’t get many things we have here in the Transvaal, isn’t that right, Colonel?” smirked Charles.

After dinner was served the dancing started in the ballroom.

Arabella looked on as Victoria charmed the room, effortlessly mingling and interacting with the other guests. She watched a group of women surround Charles as he entertained them with some story.

Marianne came up to Arabella. “I have to say you’re a most fortunate woman, Lady Armstrong,” she said, her South African accent cutting above the music.

“Am I?” asked Arabella.

“Married to such a charming, handsome, fascinating man.”

“Hmmm, I have to remind myself of that every day.” Arabella took a drink of her wine.

Marianne was watching Charles carefully. “I’m sure you have to fight off the women hanging around him?”

“No, they usually run away themselves once they get to know him.”

“You’re so funny! Not at all the dour woman they paint you as!” laughed Marianne.

“Thank you!” Arabella gave her a sarcastic look.

“Lord Charles has offered to take me and the Colonel out in his motor car for a ride.”

“I bet he has! I would be very careful if I was you.”

“Why?” Marianne looked alarmed.

“Well, the first time he drove a motor car he nearly killed himself and his two passengers along with him.”

“Oh dear! Not to worry – I believe in living dangerously.”

Later, as Charles was dancing with Victoria, both of them laughing happily, Harrison found himself standing beside Arabella.

“Would you like to –?” he gestured to the dance floor.

“Oh, yes, all right,” she said and the two of them joined the dancing couples.

They danced awkwardly, keeping a distance between them.

“Charles knows how to put on a good show,” said Harrison.

“Charles always knows how to put on a good show,” said Arabella. “Are you settling into the new house all right?”

“Oh, yes, we love it. Victoria especially. Charles was very good to find it for us.”

She looked at him and arched her eyebrow.

They danced for another while without saying anything.

“We haven’t had much time to speak since I arrived back,” he said.

She smiled and nodded.

“Yes . . .” he said. “The first time you came to Armstrong House was for a ball, remember?”

She looked at him. “How could I forget? Gwyneth’s debutante ball.”

And what an unexpected outcome that had, they both added mentally.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said.

“Oh come on, Harrison! Two children and twelve years later, and a marriage to Charles! I’ve changed.”

She fell into silence again as they continued to dance.

“So what do you think of Victoria?” he asked.

“She’s spectacular, Harrison, in every way; everyone says it continuously. Congratulations.”

“I hope you and she can be friends,” he added.

“Do you really think we can?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Come on, Harrison. Everyone else might be able to play happy families, but I was never good at charades. What happened years ago – with you, me and Charles – it hangs over us like a thick fog.”

“Well, Charles seems intent on letting the past be the past.”

“And what about you, Harrison? Can you let bygones be bygones?”

“Yes, I can. And if I can do so, then you certainly can too.”

“You put on a good act, Harrison, but you forget I know you. You could never hide anything, and when I look at you I see the contempt you still have for me in your eyes.”

Harrison became annoyed. “You don’t know me any more, Arabella. I’m not that person who was engaged to you all those years ago. You don’t see contempt for you in my eyes, you see change. Because I have changed. After you deserted me for Charles I was heartbroken for years. I was a recluse in New York, I never went out. I went to work and went back home and never talked to anybody. And then I met Victoria and she saved me from myself. You’re flattering yourself if you think you see contempt in my eyes for you. Because you see nothing for you. You’re not important to me any more – you haven’t been for a long time. Victoria is the only thing important to me now. Now the rest of us are trying to get on and become a proper family again – are you going to come with us?”

She found his words strangely wounding, his hope slightly irritating, his love for Victoria somehow upsetting.

“Of course I’ll be friends with you and Victoria. As you say, if you can forget the past then who am I, who did the injuring, to hold on to it. But a word of warning, Harrison, you might have changed, but Charles hasn’t.”

The music came to a stop and Harrison let her go and smiled at her. “Thank you for the dance, Arabella.”

And then he walked off and joined Victoria.

A blanket of snow was on the ground and it was still snowing lightly. Arabella had escaped the party and walked across the forecourt and stood at the top of the steps looking out at the hundreds of stars scattered in the night sky over the lake.

“I thought it was you,” said a voice behind her.

She turned and saw Victoria there wrapped up warmly in a fur coat. Arabella pulled her shawl closer around her.

“Oh – you smoke!” said Victoria, surprised at seeing Arabella with a cigarette.

“Not really, I just steal the odd one from Charles. He doesn’t know, nobody does.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” smiled Victoria, standing beside her and the two women looked out at the still lake in the darkness.

Victoria glanced at her watch. “Fifteen minutes to midnight. We’ll soon be in a new century.”

“Yes, Charles has ordered in crates of champagne to be opened when the hour strikes.”

“I look forward to it,” smiled Victoria. “It’s so good that Charles and Harrison are getting on better, don’t you think? They used to be so close growing up. If anything good came out of Lawrence passing away, it’s that.”

Arabella glanced at Victoria. “I suppose . . . You’re very lucky with Harrison – he’s a wonderful man.”

“Yes, I am, aren’t I?”

“You’ll always know where you are with Harrison. He’ll never let you down or deceive you or do things behind your back.”

“I know,” said Victoria, studying Arabella as the snow continued to land on her soft dark hair. “I think Charles is wonderful too.”

“Charles is all things to all people. Expect the unexpected with Charles.”

“That can be exciting too! He’s a lot of fun, I think.”

“Too much fun sometimes.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“I’m just saying you and Harrison have been spending a lot of time with Charles and you shouldn’t really rely on him, for your own sakes, because he does let people down.”

Victoria adopted a cautious tone. “Arabella . . . it’s not my place, but I think you should give Charles a bit of a break.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just, having stayed at Armstrong House this past while, I can’t help but notice that you do seem to argue a lot.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I just wonder if you relaxed a little bit, perhaps you’d get on a bit better.”

“You don’t know anything about it, Victoria!”

“I’m not saying I do! But I do understand people. Charles is, from what I can see, spontaneous and adventurous. That can be exciting, but I’m sure as well for you it’s caused stress in the past. But if you accept him for how he is, well, your marriage might improve a little.”

“And we could all live happily ever after like yourself and Harrison in wedded bliss.” Arabella’s voice dripped sarcasm.

“I’m not saying that. But you two obviously loved each other hugely to do what you did all those years back. I’m just saying a love like that never dies.”

“Oh, a love like that never does die, Victoria. I am still madly in love with Charles, for your information. It’s just living with him that causes me the problems.”

“Well, if it’s that difficult, why don’t you just leave?” Victoria was becoming exasperated.

“Oh, you really don’t know anything, Victoria. Not all of us have millions in our bank account and the carefree attitude that you have. I will never leave Charles. Firstly, I love him too much. Secondly, I’ve sacrificed far too much for that love. Thirdly, people don’t leave their spouses in our circle. People get ruined when they do that and their lives, particularly those of the wives, are destroyed.”

“I wasn’t suggesting in reality you do it! I was just pointing out that everyone always has options in life –”

“Victoria, my marriage might not look like love’s young dream from where you’re standing. But it’s my marriage, and it’s the most important thing in my life. So why don’t you continue fixing Charles and Harrison’s relationship, and leave my marriage alone?” Arabella threw her cigarette on the ground and stamped on it, before turning and walking back into the house.

“Three, two, one – Happy New Century!” shouted Charles in the ballroom and the room erupted in cheers as paper confetti and streamers shot around the room.

Victoria had just arrived back into the ballroom and she went straight over to Harrison.

“Happy New Year, darling,” she said as she kissed him. Across the ballroom she saw Arabella standing beside Charles. Charles was happily celebrating but Arabella looked lost in thought.

chapter 56

Emily was driving home, alone in a hansom cab through the streets of London in the early hours of the century. Other carriages and cabs passed hers by with groups of jovial passengers inside.

She pulled her coat closer around her and shivered. She had been at a New Year’s party with Hugh at the house of one of his friends. The party had been a spectacular display of extravagance which Hugh had much enjoyed, as ever thrilled to be amongst high society.

He had paraded her around the party proudly, saying to everyone, “Have you met my wife, Lady Emily Armstrong? She’s the sister of the Duchess of Battington – yes, the Duchess of Battington.”

She had cringed with each introduction, although she should be used to it by now. And as the night wore on and Hugh got more and more drunk and loud, she had cringed with more and more embarrassment.

She had overheard two people talking.

“Is she really a member of the Armstrong family, and Gwyneth Battington’s sister?”

“Believe it or not, yes.”

“But what’s she doing with him?”

“I know! It’s very peculiar. I don’t think the family approved.”

“Approved! I’m not surprised – he’s grotesque!”

“I think she must have been a little disturbed in the head to marry him.”

She had moved quickly away from the overheard conversation, frightened of what else she might hear.

“Ah, there’s my wife!” Hugh said, coming swaying over to her. “Come on, Emily, let’s dance!”

“No, Hugh! I really don’t want to!” she objected.

“I doesn’t matter what you want. It’s what I want that matters – after all, I pay the bills.” He grabbed her and pulled her out on to the dance floor and pushed people out of the way as he took centre stage. Then he danced her around in a drunken clumsy way.

“Hugh, I really need to sit down!” she objected.

But her words only made him hold her tighter.

“Hugh, you’re hurting me!”

Suddenly he fell to the floor, pulling her down with him and the two of them lay sprawled on the dance floor with everyone gasping and staring at them.

Hugh roared with laughter as tears of embarrassment stung Emily’s eyes. She went to try and stand up but he grabbed her to try and pull himself up and only ended up sprawling on the floor again. Finally two men dashed over to her and helped her up as a third man helped Hugh to his feet.

“Well, he’s certainly dragged her down – in every sense of the word! Her father would be so ashamed,” Emily overheard a matronly woman say as the men helped her to a chair.

Emily sat there, trying not to burst into tears, as she watched Hugh stumble around the dance floor, unconcerned at what had just happened.

She stood up and went to the footman of the house and asked for her cloak.

The footman called her a hansom cab and she got in, instructing the driver to take her to Hanover Terrace. This was nothing new for her. Most occasions that Hugh insisted they went to ended up with him making a fool of her and him, and her leaving early, alone, nursing her wounded pride.

She looked out and saw some revellers in the street and they shouted jovial greetings to her.

She turned her head, ignoring them.

“Why look so sad?” one shouted after her. “It’s 1900!”

All she could think of was another year of this imprisonment.

She let herself into the house at Hanover Terrace and, exhausted, climbed up the stairs to her bedroom. Locking the door after her, she fell into a disturbed sleep.

She was woken a couple of hours later by a crashing sound downstairs. She sat up in bed. There was another smashing sound. She knew Hugh had arrived home senselessly drunk like he often did and was just falling into furniture and breaking it.

She heard the footsteps come up the stairs and then there was silence. Then there was a knock on the door.

“Emily? Lady Emily?” Hugh called from the other side of the door.

Emily huddled on the bed as Hugh then tried the door handle. Finding the door was locked, he started incessantly turning the doorknob.

“Emily, it’s your husband, let me in,” demanded Hugh.

Emily sat shivering and not moving.

“Emily!” he started shouting as he banged at the door.

She wiped away tears as the banging echoed through her head.

“I won’t leave till you let me in!” he shouted.

The banging suddenly stopped and there was a loud thud outside the door. Emily realised he had passed out. She finally lay down on her bed again and tried to get to sleep, but sleep would not come.

chapter 57

Margaret moved out to Hunter’s Farm without any fuss. In a way Arabella was relieved she was not there any more. She did tire of Margaret’s constant criticisms and put-downs. Having said that, Margaret came and went from Armstrong House as she pleased as it was only down the road, often arriving for dinner or lunch.

Arabella realised she should be delighted at being Lady Armstrong and this beautiful house was now hers fully and freely. But she never realised the work entailed in running such a large country house. Margaret had done it like everything she did, so effortlessly. Arabella was constantly being asked for a decision, a choice, an opinion.

As predicted, Fennell the butler had married the assistant cook from the kitchen, and the new Mrs Fennell had been elevated to chief cook when the old one retired. Now, sitting in the drawing room with Arabella, Mrs Fennell had her notebook and pen and was going through the coming week’s set of menus.

“What about lunch on Thursday, my lady?”

“Em, chicken,” said Arabella.

“But I thought we had agreed on chicken for Tuesday?”

“Oh, yes – turkey then.”

“Sure you won’t get a turkey this time of year, my lady. They’ll all be gone so soon after Christmas.”

“Well, roast beef then,” said Arabella.

“Roast beef for lunch?” Mrs Fennell raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Only on a Sunday, surely, my lady?”

Arabella raised her eyes to heaven. “Well, what do you suggest then?”

“Oh, it’s not my place to be suggesting anything, my lady.”

“Why not? You’re the cook.”

“Well, I can’t take responsibility if it displeases his lordship or his guests. I mean, I think rabbit is lovely and could put it on the menu, but it’s not to everyone’s taste, so I can’t take that responsibility. I remember we served rabbit once at one of Lord Lawrence’s dinner parties, may he rest with the angels, and next thing one of the guests, a lady from Tipperary, threw up all over the place. It took two weeks to get the stains out of the carpet!”

“Our French chef in London used to prepare all the menus and all I or His Lordship had to do was approve them.”

“Well, this isn’t London and I’m not a French chef, I’m glad to say.”

Arabella sighed. “Let’s leave the lunches for now and concentrate on dinners,” she suggested. “Trout for dinner, Monday night, is that all right?”

“Perfect, my lady. And Tuesday?”

“Steak.”

Mrs Fennell gave her a concerned look. “But I thought the Seymours were coming to dinner on Tuesday night.”

“Are they?” Arabella couldn’t remember.

“Yes, and Mr Seymour doesn’t like steak – remember, ever since he got that food poisoning . . .”

Arabella rubbed her temples. “Mrs Fennell! I’ve a headache coming on – we’re going to have to go through all this later.”

“But I need to discuss with you what produce you want from the gardens for the week, and the staff meals for the week, the stable boys’ food requirements and what you want the children to have during the week. Lady Prudence has taken a dislike to porridge. Which guests are coming each day? Are Mr Harrison and his wife, the American, attending? Will Lady Margaret be here? And what food is to be ordered from the shops. Not to mention the liquor – we’re very down on gin,” Mrs Fennell gave her an accusing look.

“Mrs Fennell!” asserted Arabella. “My headache has to take precedence! Please come and see me tomorrow about all this, and we’ll just have to make do today.”

“Make do!” Mrs Fennell was aghast.

“Yes – make do!” confirmed Arabella.

“Very well, my lady,” said Mrs Fennell, closing her notebook and standing up. As Mrs Fennell left the room she met the housekeeper waiting to go in.

“Good luck with that one!” Mrs Fennell tutted.

“Good day, my lady,” said the housekeeper on entering the room. “I have a full agenda to talk to you about today. Will we begin with the linen in the servants’ quarters?”

Arabella sighed heavily as the housekeeper began her litany of things needing to be done. She had already put the housekeeper off from the previous week, so she knew she couldn’t use a headache as an excuse again.

At that moment there was a knock on the door and three workmen from the estate walked in, holding hammers and chisels.

“Can I help you?” asked Arabella.

“No, my lady, we’ll try to make as little noise and mess as possible,” said the foreman as they walked past her to the gable wall and started taking the curtains down from the window there and measuring up around it.

“What are you doing?” asked Arabella.

The foreman turned, surprised. “His lordship wants a French window put in here.”

“A French window?”

“Yes, and a balustrade terrace outside.”

“Whatever for?”

“He says so his guests can enjoy their cocktails out on the terrace on a summer’s evening,” said the foreman as they started hammering the stonework around the window.

Arabella got up quickly and left the room as the hammering sound rattled around her head.

“What about the cleaning order?” called the housekeeper after her.

chapter 58

Marianne Radford dominated the dinner table with her clipped South African accent and her theatrical gestures.

“I so love your house. Of course back in South Africa my family had a beautiful ranch house and thousands of acres of farmland. That, of course, was before the Boer War started. One minute we were having tea on the veranda and the next thing we were being fired on! If I hadn’t got out in time I would have been rounded up and put in one of the concentration camps along with the rest of the women and children,” said Marianne, not looking at all upset at the thought.

“How awful! I believe what’s going on there is horrendous,” said Arabella.

“We Boers are being treated atrociously . . . But then I met Tommy and he came to my rescue like a knight in shining armour,” she said, leaning forward and tickling Tommy under the chin.

“That was lucky,” said Charles.

“It certainly was! He organised me and my family to be evacuated from South Africa on the first liner we could get on from Cape Town. Didn’t you, dinkidums?” She tickled him under the chin again.

“Eight people in all. I had to pull a lot of strings,” said Tommy.

“And did you then get married when you got here?” Arabella asked.

“No, before we left South Africa,” said Marianne.

“He made sure the deal was done before he got her out of the country,” Charles whispered to Victoria, causing her to stifle a laugh.

“And so here we are back living in your delightful colony,” said Marianne, smiling.

“It’s not a colony, sweetheart,” said Tommy. “It’s a country, part of the United Kingdom.”

“But for how long?” said Arabella. “It may be independent soon by the sound of things.”

“There will be a war first if they try to get independence,” said Charles.

“Oh, please, not another colonial war! I couldn’t bear it,” said Marianne.

“I shouldn’t worry – we Irish are great at talking about these things, but they never come to pass,” said Arabella.

“Yes, the Irish do like to talk,” confirmed Marianne. “Our neighbour back in South Africa was married to an Irishwoman. We used to call her Irish Kitty. Of course the poor woman became a raving alcoholic and then she just became known as Whiskey Kitty!”

Charles was going through the rent books in the library while James sat opposite him sullenly.

“This is unbelievable,” complained Charles. “There are more rents in arrears this year than last when Father was alive and running the show!”

“I know,” said James.

“Well, they can’t blame bad harvests this year. It’s good weather this year.”

James shrugged. “In the overall scheme of things, the majority of farmers are up to date with their payments and only a small number are in arrears,” he said.

Charles closed the rent books angrily. “They’re making fools of us! I’m sick and tired of them!”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, I think some of the farmers are sick and tired of you!”

“With me? But I never go near them or interfere with them – why would they be annoyed with me?”

“Exactly! You show no interest in them or their lives.”

Charles sat back arrogantly in his chair. “So what am I to do? Visit their hovels and pretend to enjoy their horrendous cooking while their brats paw me with dirty hands?”

“Yes, if that’s what it takes to build up a rapport with them,” urged James.

“I have no interest in building a rapport with them or indulging them.”

“Also giving the poachers to the police that time, well, it put you in a very bad light.”

“I really don’t know what’s wrong with this country! When a man can’t protect his own fishing rights and expect a normal business arrangement and have payments on time with his tenants without having to listen to their maudlin stories and tales of woe!”

James sighed heavily. “Yes, they resent paying over the rents because they see it as their land that we stole from them in the first place.”

“Our ancestors were given the land by the Crown – we didn’t steal anything from the fools! Besides, I can’t run my business based on healing imagined historic woes that happened long before I was born and have nothing to do with me. I need the estate to run on a profit –”

“To fund your extravagant parties and lifestyle?” James mocked.

“To fund anything I want with, as it’s my money!” retorted Charles. “No – no, I’m not going to let it continue. I think the tenants are taking advantage of Father not being here any more.” He picked up one of the rent books. “This family, Mulrooney, they are six months in arrears. We’ll tell them they have to settle up immediately. I’m running a business not a charity.”

Charles drove the motor car through the estate quickly with James sitting beside him holding on for dear life.

Charles turned into the gateway and down a long dirt track before pulling up abruptly outside the cottage sending hens and geese flying in all directions.

A woman and a man came out of the front door as Charles hopped out of the motor car, followed by James.

“Ah, is it yourself, Lord Armstrong?” said Jack Mulrooney.

“Yes, who else would it be?” said Charles. He found what he saw as the farmer’s insincerity irritating.

“We’re very honoured having a visit from you – I’m Maureen Mulrooney,” said the woman with a small curtsy.

“Have you come to see the sick calves?” Jack’s face was creased with tension.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t have any time to see sick calves. What I’m here for is to discuss the arrears on your rent,” said Charles.

“Sure we can’t sleep at night worried about it,” said Maureen. “Won’t ye come in for some tea and scones to talk about it?”

“I really don’t have time, thank you all the same. James! How much is in arrears?” snapped Charles.

“Five pounds and four shillings,” said James uncomfortably.

“Five pounds and four shillings. We’ll give you three months to pay the arrears, I think that’s reasonable enough,” said Charles.

Maureen and Jack looked at each other in profound worry. “But sure we’ll never have that paid in that time. Not now the calves are sick and we can’t bring them to market.”

Charles looked around. “You have chickens and geese and sheep. Sell what you can and raise the money.”

“But, your lordship, that will never raise that much money!”

“Look, I feel sorry for your predicament, I really do. But it’s really nothing to do with me. I rent you land and this house and that’s where my interest stops,” said Charles.

Jack turned to James who remained speechless and appealed to him. “Master James!”

“Master James doesn’t have a say. He’s not Lord Armstrong, I am. Good day to you.” Charles turned and jumped into his car. “James – are you coming with me or do you want to walk back?”

James reluctantly turned around and sat into the car, tight-lipped.

“That’s how you do it, no nonsense. They’ll respect us all the more for it,” said Charles as he avoided a hole in the road.

That night James sat on the couch before a roaring fire in his farmhouse on the estate. It was well after eleven o’clock and he was getting worried. Suddenly there was a knock on the door and he went and opened it. Dolly Cassidy walked in and they embraced and kissed.

“What took you so long? I thought you said you were finishing early,” he said as he led her over to the couch.

“We had a bit of trouble in the bar I needed to sort out.”

Dolly Cassidy had grown up in that pub and there was no situation she couldn’t handle in it. He never had to worry about her.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No, I had some stew earlier on,” She took off her shawl and he put his arms around her. “I’ll have a drop of wine though.”

The ticking clock struck midnight as James and Dolly lay out on the couch in each other’s arms and the fire began to die.

“What’s wrong, love? You’ve been quiet all night,” she said.

“It’s just Charles.”

“What’s the bastard done now?” she asked, her face turning sour at the mention of his name.

“He’s told Jack Mulrooney and his wife they’ve three months to pay their arrears,” said James.

Dolly sat up quickly and stared at him. “What? But sure they’ll never get them arrears paid in that time.”

“I know. I don’t know what they’ll do.”

Dolly smiled. “The bastard wouldn’t dare evict them. He wouldn’t dare!”

“You don’t know Charles – he does whatever he wants and he doesn’t care what people think.”

“But – he wouldn’t risk what could develop from an eviction . . . And can you not have a word with him?”

“I’m the last person he’ll listen to. He expects me to follow his commands without question. They’re having a garden party next month and he’s ordered me to go.”

“You – at a garden party!” She stifled giggles.

“I know. He wants to control me like he controls everyone else,” James said angrily, staring into the fire.

She cuddled up to him. “Well, don’t worry about it, love. I’m sure it’ll be all right.”

chapter 59

Charles parked the car outside the Radfords’ house and Marianne and the Colonel came out.

“I’m so excited! I’ve bought a new hat for the occasion – I’m so looking forward to this drive!” said Marianne as she sat up in the front of the car beside Charles.

“Sit in the back, Tommy,” she instructed.

Tommy looked sceptically at the motor car. “Actually, I think I’ll give it a miss. It looks a little bit unstable to me.”

“Quite stable, rest assured, Tommy!” said Charles, smiling at Marianne.

“No, I’m not going,” said the Colonel.

“But I’ve bought a new hat for it!” Marianne was devastated.

“You youngsters go off. I’ll stay behind.”

“Are you sure?” asked Marianne.

“Yes, you head off.”

“Oh, thank you, dinkidums, we won’t be long. Come along, Lord Armstrong, giddy-up!”

“Oh stop, stop!” begged Marianne as the motor car jumped along an uneven road.

Charles pulled over. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid I’m feeling a little seasick!”

“But we’re not on water.”

“Well, road-sick then! Oh, that’s better,” she said, loosening the collar on her blouse and undoing the first button. “It’s so warm today,” she said, fanning herself with her hat.

“Isn’t it?” He sat back and smiled at her.

“You drive the motor car most masterfully. I imagine you do everything masterfully.”

“I try to!”

“I was telling your wife how lucky she was in having you.”

“Did she agree with you?” he smirked at her.

“I don’t know. She talks in riddles.”

“She must have been drunk. She likes to drink.”

“You poor man. I know with Tommy what it’s like to live with a drinker.” She patted her face.

“Yes, I remember we used to call him Gin and Tommy!” Charles laughed.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I adore him! He rescued me from certain imprisonment in a concentration camp back home. I’ll always be grateful to him . . . But he’s so old!”

“Didn’t you realise how old he was when you married him?”

“I suppose I was carried away by the heat, dust and drama of the Boer War when I married him. He was a safe haven in very choppy seas.”

“We’ve all been there!” said Charles.

“Of course I could never have an affair,” she declared.

“No?”

“It would break his heart if he found out.”

Charles leaned forward and began to further unbutton her blouse. “Who said anything about him finding out?”

“My sentiments exactly,” said Marianne as she lunged towards Charles and kissed him.

Charles was walking down the busy main street in Castlewest, holding Prudence and Pierce by the hands. People smiled and nodded to them as they passed.

“Good afternoon, Lord Armstrong,” said some.

Charles never had an affinity with the locals. He always viewed them as so foreign to him. But since Lawrence had revealed that his true grandfather had been a local, Charles’ feelings towards them had intensified to utter disdain. He remembered his grandmother Lady Anna so well growing up. She had been such a graceful and dignified lady and he wondered over and over again what had driven her into the arms of a peasant. Whatever had possessed her to even contemplate such a thing? The knowledge of what she’d done gnawed away at him.

“Papa,” said Prudence, “may we please not have to go back to the house this afternoon for classes and stay with you instead?”

“You’ve already missed the morning classes, Prudence, so no,” said Charles.

“But the new governess is so stupid! She didn’t even know who the Tsar of Russia was yesterday.”

“Did you enlighten her?” He smiled down at his precocious daughter.

“Of course I did.”

“Good girl.” He patted her head.

“I wish Mama could order a right governess,” said Pierce.

“You mother does seem incapable of ordering anything correctly . . . except gin,” said Charles.

“Please, Papa, we don’t want to go back to the schoolroom today,” said Pierce.

Charles had planned a rendezvous with Marianne Radford later in the afternoon so it was impossible to meet their request.

“Sorry, children, not today. Anyway, it won’t be long until Pierce is finished with governesses. He’ll be off to school in England in a couple of years.”

“Why can’t he go to the school here in Castlewest?” said Prudence. “In that way he won’t have to leave us, and he can come home every evening like the local children do.”

“Now, listen to me carefully, children – you must never forget as you go through life that we are not the same as the locals in any way. They have their world and we have ours.”

“Yes, Papa,” they both said together as they reached the motor car and climbed in the front with him.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Charles, ruffling Pierce’s brown hair. “Sneak out tomorrow after breakfast, and you can spend the day with me then. We’ll go fishing and shooting.”

“Oh, thank you, Papa!” they both said together happily. They adored being in Charles’ company. He had no restrictions or rules and let them do whatever they wanted.

Charles suddenly spotted Victoria walking down the street and shouted, “Victoria!”

“Hello there!” said Victoria, crossing over the street to them.

“Out doing some shopping?” asked Charles, spotting her full basket.

“Yes, just getting some supplies. Hello, Prudence – hello, Pierce!”

The two children stared back at her without saying anything.

“Where’s Harrison?” asked Charles, looking around.

“He’s coming in to collect me later. But I finished earlier than I expected.”

“We’ll give you a lift home, in that case,” offered Charles.

“Are you sure?” asked Victoria.

“Of course – children, get in the back seat and let your aunt sit up front.” Prudence reluctantly got into the back, glaring at Victoria as she sat up beside Charles and the motor car took off.

Arabella went into Prudence’s room to say goodnight.

“Mama, do we have to like Aunt Victoria?” asked Prudence as Arabella kissed her.

“No, you don’t have to like anybody you don’t want to. Why?”

“It’s just that Papa says we have to like Aunt Victoria.”

“Did he indeed? Well, you don’t. Besides, she’s not even your proper aunt, only by marriage.”

Prudence smiled happily. “Good, then I think I’ll choose not to like her.”

“Any particular reason?”

“I don’t like the way she takes all Papa’s attention from us.”

“Does she?”

“Yes, like today, we met her in town and she forced me and Pierce to sit in the back of the motor car so she could sit beside Papa.”

“And where were you bringing her?” Arabella sat down on the bed.

“We were giving her a lift home. And then she invited Papa in to look at some painting she had bought and me and Pierce were stuck in the car for ages waiting for Papa to return. I think she’s selfish.”

“And . . . and was your uncle Harrison at home in the house at the time?”

“No, he’d gone shooting, she said.”

Arabella quickly smiled at her and bent to kiss her. “Go straight to sleep, there’s a good girl.”

chapter 60

Fennell walked around the tables that were arranged along the first terraced garden for the garden party, and covered with white linen tablecloths that fell to the ground. On each a silver tea service glistened in the sun.

Arabella came down the steps dressed in white and holding a white lace parasol.

“It’s a lovely day for the garden party, your ladyship,” Fennell said.

She agreed it was as she stood looking out at the glistening blue lake stretched out before them.

Charles came down the steps, dressed in white flannel trousers and a striped blazer.

“We’re all set, Fennell?” he asked.

“I think we can safely say we are, sir,” said the butler.

“What lovely weather! It reminds me so of South Africa,” said Marianne, kissing Charles on the cheek. “Now, remember, Charles, you promised to partner me in tennis today. You don’t mind, Lady Armstrong, if I steal him?”

“Be my guest, I never play tennis anyway,” said Arabella.

“Yes, so I heard.” Marianne gave her a dismissive look as she linked Charles’ arm and led him over to the tennis courts.

Victoria and Harrison arrived shortly after.

“Sorry we’re late,” said Victoria, kissing Arabella’s cheek. “Our motor car had a puncture.”

“That’s not a worry you’d ever have if you stuck with horses,” said Arabella.

“Carriages get punctures too, Arabella,” Victoria pointed out, tired of the fact that Arabella always had an answer for everything.

“Victoria, you’re looking lovely today, as ever,” greeted Charles, hurrying over and welcoming them warmly. Putting his arms around both Harrison and Victoria, he led them away from Arabella. “I need your advice on something. What do you think about investing in stock of an automobile manufacturer? I think, given another ten years everyone will be driving motor cars in Ireland.”

James walked around uncomfortably at the garden party, smiling and nodding to people. He took a cup of tea and walked off to the next flight of steps and went down to the next terraced garden which was quieter. He stood drinking his tea while looking out to the lake.

Victoria spotted him and, taking her own cup of tea, went down the steps to join him. She passed Prudence, Pierce and the other children playing a game.

“It’s unusual to find you at one of Charles’ do’s,” she commented to James, smiling.

He looked at her and grimaced. “I’m under orders. Charles insisted I came.”

“You don’t usually obey Charles’ orders, do you?” she asked.

“I used not, but now he’s Lord Armstrong he’s our lord and master, don’t you know?”

She smiled sympathetically at him. “Are we really so bad to spend a few hours with?”

“Oh, not you, Victoria!” He shook his head. He’d had many conversations with her since she arrived and found her nice to a fault. “Just the rest of them are a pain in the behind.”

“You’re very different from Charles – he lives for these parties and events.”

“That’s because he loves everyone saying what a great man and host he is,” said James.

“I’m surprised one of these young women haven’t whisked you off down the aisle yet,” she commented.

He jerked his head towards the party. “One of this lot? You must be joking. I wouldn’t be able to stick them and they wouldn’t be able to stick me!”

They put down their teacups and walked along the pathways into the gardens.

“Everyone says how hard you work on the estate all the time, but you don’t want life to pass you by as you’re busy sorting out tenants’ squabbles,” she said.

“I love my work on the estate,” he said.

“Well, as long as you’re happy, that’s the main thing I always think.”

“Oh,” he smiled, “I am, most of the time.” He looked at his watch. “I wonder, if I crept away would anyone miss me?”

“Have you something urgent on?” She noticed something in the expression on his face. “My gosh, James, you have someone, don’t you? Who is she?”

He went red with embarrassment. “Nobody – you don’t know her.”

She found herself getting excited. “Oh, go on, tell me, James. I won’t tell anyone.”

He sat down on the side of a fountain. “It’s nothing that serious. We’ve known each other for a long time though.”

“So, why can’t we all meet her?”

“She’s not one of us. She’s from the town.”

“Oh!” Victoria nodded.

“She runs Cassidy’s bar in the town . . . her family are the Cassidys . . . I’ve known her since we were kids. There’s nothing permanent in it. Neither of us expect something permanent or want it from each other. But we get on really well, do you know what I mean?”

“I do, yes.” She sat down beside him and put her arm around him.

“And none of your families know?”

“No. I think Charles suspects something, but he doesn’t know who she is,” said James.

“And what are you going to do about this situation?”

He started laughing. “Nothing, Victoria. Sure there’s nothing to be done. We’ll just enjoy being with each other until she gets married or I get married.”

“And then say goodbye to each other?” Victoria was aghast. “Oh, James, you can’t let that happen. I mean if you’ve found somebody who truly makes you happy, then you should do something about it.”

“Victoria, are you out of your mind? Dolly Cassidy, much as I like her, is a publican in town; I’m an Armstrong. It would never be accepted, and to be honest, I’m glad. Things are the way they are for a reason. Look what happened to Emily! Dolly would never be accepted by this world, and in the meantime her own world would turn on her. I mean, Dolly isn’t even from one of these Catholic professional doctor or solicitor families that are taking over the country. She’s a local girl, through and through.”

Victoria frowned in confusion. “So why don’t you just leave each other then and find somebody else?”

He smiled at her lamely. “Because neither of us wants to, or are sure if we’re able to – for now.”

Arabella sat drinking tea and chatting amicably to the guests. But Marianne Radford, who was playing mixed doubles and partnering Charles, kept distracting her by constantly screaming and grunting as she played tennis.

“One for the Boers!” Marianne would scream every time she smashed a victory ball to the other side of the court.

Arabella observed her husband playing with Marianne and spotted something. She wasn’t sure what, but there was a camaraderie that stretched beyond partners in tennis as they went up to each other and whispered something occasionally.

The Colonel had fallen asleep in his chair under the sun and suddenly Marianne was nowhere to be seen. Arabella scanned the crowd but was unable to spot her. She saw Charles hoof it up the steps from the garden and go into the house.

Arabella chatted away for another half an hour to the guests, but there was no sign of Charles reappearing. Concerned, she excused herself and walked up the steps and into the house.

Fennell was rushing through the hallway with another full teapot.

“Fennell, did you see Lord Armstrong?”

“I’m afraid not, your ladyship,” he said, continuing on outside.

She checked the rooms downstairs and there was no sign of him and then she went upstairs. Going into the bedroom, she saw he wasn’t there either and neither was he in the bathroom or dressing room of the bedroom. As she left the bedroom, she heard a woman’s giggle down the corridor. She went down the hallway to where she could hear whispers and giggles coming from the Blue Room. She went and stood outside the door and listened. Then she bent down and looked through the keyhole. She saw Charles and Marianne cavorting naked on the bed. She stood up quickly, her heart beating fast. She leaned against the wall as tears sprang to her eyes. And then as she felt anger she reached forward for the door handle and then stopped herself. She thought for a while as the groans continued to come from inside the room. Then she hurried down the corridor and down the stairs.

“Fennell – can you bring me the spare key for the Blue Room,” she ordered.

“Right away, my lady,” he said.

She paused before going outside and wiped away the tears stinging her eyes. She walked smiling across the forecourt and down to the garden party.

Fennell arrived a minute later. “The key, my lady,” he said, handing her the key. Taking the key she went and sat in the vacant chair beside Tommy Radford and gently nudged his snoring frame awake.

“What – what – oh I must have fallen asleep, Lady Armstrong,” said Tommy, waking up.

She smiled at him and then bent forward and started to whisper in his ear. His face started to turn red with fury. She then handed him the key which he snatched from her and stormed off up to the house. Arabella sat back and drank from her cup of tea, watching the house.

Finally Tommy Radford came storming out of the house and over to his carriage, followed by Marianne calling, “Dinkidums! Dinkidums!”

Arabella watched as Marianne jumped into the carriage beside him and Tommy whipped the horse and they sped off down the driveway.

Twenty minutes later Charles came sauntering out of the house and down to the garden party.

“Charles!” shrieked Victoria. “Whatever happened to you?”

Charles was sporting a swelling eye that was coming up in a black-and-blue bruise.

“Nothing, I just walked into a door,” he said, quickly sitting down and taking a cup of tea.

Arabella looked at him with disdain and satisfaction.

“One for the Irish!” she said to herself under her breath.

That night Arabella lay out on their bed sobbing. Their marriage was often a war of words, but this affair he had been having wounded her so much it hurt. She had never regretted marrying Charles in spite of everything, but as she thought of Harrison happily married she did feel regretful of other destinies that had passed her by or that she had willingly thrown away. And this affair he had been having with that Boer bitch Marianne Radford demonstrated exactly what he thought of her and their marriage. And yet she would not let Charles know how much he had hurt her. She would not even let him know she knew about his affair. She remembered her mother’s advice on her wedding night. To keep one step ahead of Charles, never trust him, never take her marriage for granted. Those words had saved her marriage thus far and they would continue to save it.

Prudence and Pierce came rushing into the room.

“Mama, what’s wrong?” asked Prudence as she and Pierce climbed up on the bed and started cuddling her.

She couldn’t stop crying and their comforting words only seemed to make her sobbing worse. Eventually she sat up and held them close.

“I want you both to promise me something. Whatever you do in life, never fall in love. Never give your hearts to anyone, as it’ll only cause you pain. Do you promise me?”

“We promise, Mama,” they both said together as they hugged her back tightly.