Cavendon Hall (25 page)

Charles exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have it any other way! I don’t think she could possibly be in love with him. However, if she likes him, trusts him, and if they get along well, then maybe a marriage between them would have a chance. But it must be her choice. I would never force her.”

Charlotte looked pleased, and said swiftly, “I’m so glad you’re saying this, Charles, because if they were together it would solve so many problems for Daphne, and for the entire family. It would be a relief for everyone.”

“I can see that now … and sometimes a marriage that is based on overwhelming passion dies out quickly, loses its fire, at least so I’ve been given to understand by some chaps I know.”

“And sometimes a passionate man can make a marriage work beautifully … if his partner is willing to go along. And just think, Charles, Daphne might genuinely welcome Hugo with open arms. The program for her, for the next six months, is going to be tough, really hard. She has to go on living as she is living today, whilst hiding her pregnancy from the world. And hoping she gets away with it. Hoping she can start her life again, after the baby’s born. And then there’s the child to consider. Has it occurred to you that she might not want to give it up for adoption?”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind,” he replied. “Felicity and I just pushed that idea to one side. But the baby will have to be adopted by a good family. Arranged by a solicitor. A family given financial support.”

“I understand. What do you think Felicity will say about Hugo and Daphne getting married? Would she go along with it?”

“She’s practical by nature, so I’m sure she would, providing Daphne was happy,” he answered in a firm voice. “She wanted Daphne to come out, be presented at Court, and she was planning a grand debutante’s ball for her next year…”

He broke off, shook his head. “Every time we discuss this ghastly situation, the way Daphne was so brutally raped, we thank God she’s alive. The most important thing is that we still have our daughter. He could have killed her.”

Charlotte said, “Shall we go up to the house and talk to Daphne? I know Felicity has gone to see her sister … she told me yesterday that Anne was in hospital again.”

He nodded and grimaced. “I’m afraid she is, poor woman. DeLacy and Miles went with their mother to keep her company. Diedre and Guy have gone up to London. I rather think you knew that, too, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Diedre told me she and Guy had been invited to Maxine Lowe’s twenty-first birthday party, and that they were going to be in London for a few days.”

“Aunt Gwendolyn went along with them yesterday.” He laughed. “She wasn’t invited to Maxine’s birthday party, but since she had planned to go to London for ‘a bit of Mayfair and the theater,’ as she called it, Diedre suggested they all travel on the train together.”

*   *   *

Just look at her, Charlotte thought, as she and Charles walked into the yellow sitting room a short while later. There she sat, Lady Daphne Ingham, looking beautiful in a pale blue silk tea gown, with a long strand of pearls and pearl earrings. She was one of the most extraordinary-looking young women imaginable. No wonder Hugo had fallen in love with her instantly. She was like a golden goddess.

Daphne’s hair was a shining halo around her face, her skin was peaches-and-cream perfect, and her blue eyes were sparkling. She’s sublime, Charlotte thought. No man would be able to resist her. She was breathtaking this afternoon.

The moment she saw Charlotte and her father, Daphne stood up, came to greet them, then took Charlotte’s hand in hers. “Come and sit with me on the sofa,” she murmured.

Hanson, forever on the hover, motioned to Gordon and Malcolm to push in the tea trolleys, and led the way forward. “Good afternoon, m’lord, Miss Charlotte. Shall we serve now, Lord Mowbray?”

“Please do so, Hanson. And I’m sure you already knew that it would be just the three of us.”

“I did know, m’lord. However, I’ve had it on good authority that you will be joined for tea by Lady Dulcie. You will be four.”

“Oh really,” Charles said, and a moment later, as if on cue, his youngest daughter walked sedately into the room. “Hello, Papa,” she said. “Hello, Miss Charlotte. Daphne, can I sit with you on the sofa?”

“Of course,” Daphne answered, and made room for the child between her and Charlotte.

A glass of milk was produced for Dulcie, whilst Gordon and Malcolm poured the tea, and handed around the tea sandwiches. Hanson supervised, watching the footmen with eagle eyes, as was his way.

“When is my horse arriving, Papa?” Dulcie suddenly asked, staring at her father, her large blue eyes focused on him intently.

“A horse!” Daphne exclaimed, looking surprised. “Goodness me!”

“Yes,” Dulcie said. “A horse.”

“No,” Charles interjected. “You are going to have a Shetland pony again. However, the new one will be a bit bigger than the one you now have.”

“A horse is for when you’re more grown-up,” Daphne explained.

The child nodded, focused on Charles. “So when will the new pony arrive, Papa?”

“In about a week,” he replied, finding her irresistible. “I had to wait until I found exactly the right one for you. A special pony, Dulcie.”

A wide smile spread across her face, and she said, “Thank you, Papa. I’m going to call him Hugo.”

There was a moment of quietness, and Charlotte glanced away, unable to look at Charles. Charles cleared his throat, and did the same.

It was Daphne who spoke first. “And why have you chosen that particular name, Dulcie?” she asked curiously.

“Because I have a friend called Hugo. I was the first sister to meet him, and I can’t help it that he chose me to meet him
first
 …
you
told me that, Daphne. You said it wasn’t my fault.”

“I did, yes. So the pony is to be given Hugo’s name?”

“Yes. Because Hugo is nice, and the pony will be nice.”

“Hugo
is
nice, Papa. Dulcie’s right about that. He’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met,” Daphne said to the room at large.

*   *   *

An hour later, Dulcie had gone back to the nursery, and Daphne sat in the library with her father and Charlotte. Charles told her everything, holding nothing back, repeating, almost verbatim, all of the things Hugo had said before returning to Zurich.

Daphne listened attentively, and then asked quietly, “And so what happens next, Papa?”

“When Hugo comes back to Yorkshire, to attend the ball, he would like to know what your thoughts are.”

“Do you mean he wants some sort of an answer?” Daphne murmured, giving her father a hard stare.

“He does indeed.” Charles leaned back on the Chesterfield sofa and crossed his legs.

“But an answer to
what
exactly?” Daphne asked. “Will I marry him? Or can he court me, with a view to marriage?”

“The latter, Daphne,” Charles answered. “He indicated he wishes
you
to get to know
him
better. He is absolutely sure of his own feelings for you. He kept repeating that to me. He wants you to have enough time to make up
your
mind. In other words, he doesn’t want you to dismiss him out of hand, and he doesn’t want to push.”

Daphne did not answer immediately.

Charles looked at Charlotte and raised a brow, and Charlotte nodded.

She said softly, “Hugo doesn’t want to rush you, but he did want you to know how he truly feels, from what your father’s said to me. I’ll tell you something interesting.”

Charlotte now leaned forward, her eyes searching Daphne’s face; the girl seemed very puzzled. “You know, Daphne, Cecily spotted the way Hugo was reacting to you, the first day you met him, at tea that Friday afternoon. She told me he couldn’t take his eyes off you. She added that he’d found a wife. What she meant was a potential wife.”

“I trust Cecily. She never misses anything, and she’s very grown-up and intelligent for her age,” Daphne responded. “So what you’re saying is that Hugo would court me, and if I like him enough to marry him, then that would be the ultimate result. Marriage. Eventually. But if I didn’t grow to like him, more than I do already, then the courtship would die a natural death.” Daphne sat back in her chair and looked at her father pointedly. “Am I correct? Have I summed it up?”

“You have, darling,” Charles said.

Daphne was thoughtful for a moment, before saying, “I do like Hugo; he’s a lovely man. Maybe it
would
work. We seem to get on well, we like the same things. But there’s a huge problem, Papa. I’m pregnant. He would have to be told I’m having a baby. It would be wrong to hide that from him. Unethical, actually. Dishonorable, on my part. But there’s a risk in telling him. He might walk away from me, lose interest in me, and yet he would know my secret. And he could talk. I would be ruined.”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought about all that,” Charles exclaimed. “And so has Charlotte. I suppose we just have to take that chance.”

Charlotte cleared her throat, and said, “Hugo is an Ingham, a member of the family, your father’s first cousin, Daphne. I believe he is an honest and honorable man, and like all the Ingham men, true blue, in my opinion. I don’t think for one moment that he would talk. Also, remember he will be told you were attacked and raped, and why would he reveal that? I doubt he would.”

“He would probably walk away, and never come back,” Charles interjected. “If he lost interest in you, or if you spurn his courtship. He indicated that to me. He thought it would be intolerable to live here at Whernside House and not have you as his wife. Untenable, that was the word he used.”

Daphne nodded. Her mind was racing with innumerable thoughts. Unexpectedly, an image of Peggy Swift leaning over her baby, Kevin, came rushing back, and she said, “What about my pregnancy? Can I give this baby up? I don’t know, Papa. It’s an Ingham. I know I’m going to love it, the moment I hold it in my arms. Let us say we got together, and married, Hugo may not wish me to keep the baby.”

Charles was shocked by her words. It had not occurred to him that she would not give the baby up. In a sense, he was astounded. He kept his voice level though when he said, “There are many things to consider, as well as the baby. If you marry Hugo, you won’t be a duchess one day, as you’ve always dreamed of being. But he will treat you like a queen, and you will never want for anything. Hugo’s exceedingly wealthy.”

“I know he’s successful, a clever man in business, I realized that from our conversations.”

“He adores you, in my opinion. He’ll spoil you, give you the world. He’s a millionaire many times over,” Charles told her, and added, “He was very candid and open, explained a great deal about his wealth to me.”

“I can’t let that influence me, Papa.” She turned to Charlotte. “I can’t, can I?”

“No, Daphne. However, I know you will think everything through before coming to a decision. That’s the way you are made. You’re very prudent, and sensible.”

Daphne murmured, almost to herself, “He’s kind and caring, and he makes me laugh. I like his energy … and he has a warm personality.” There was a pause, and then she said slowly, “For the moment I think he can court me … but let me think it over for a few days. Then I will give you my final answer.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Charles answered. “It is up to you, darling.”

“What does Mama think about Hugo’s serious interest in me?” Daphne asked, standing up.

“I haven’t told her yet. She has been feeling rather poorly, and I haven’t wanted to burden her in any way,” he explained.

Daphne said, “Perhaps I’ll speak to her later, when she gets back from Harrogate. Anyway, Mama is practical like me, or rather, I should say, I am like her.”

*   *   *

Upstairs in her room, Daphne locked the door, took off her dress, and all of her underclothes, and went and stood in front of the cheval mirror in the corner.

She studied herself carefully, and from all angles. She wasn’t showing yet. However, her breasts were bigger, and they were also sore on occasion. Once she started to show, and her bump began to grow, she would have to leave Cavendon. There was no alternative. She couldn’t even go to their house in Mayfair. Because of the servants. They would notice her condition immediately.

Looking at herself in the mirror once again, she shook her head and turned away, went to her closet, picked out a silk robe. As she slipped it on, she wondered if she could carry it off … pretending not to be pregnant for the many months ahead of her … going to live in Paris when she was showing. Being taught like a student to speak French, to learn about art and French history. And being shown how to become elegant and chic in the French manner. Could she follow the program Charlotte Swann had mapped out for her?

She could, she was positive about that. After all, she had a strong will, and once she made her mind up to do something, she did it.

But now, for the first time, she wondered if she wanted to go through that. It was playacting and being dishonest, and she would certainly have to learn the art of dissimulation … she was open and honest by nature, not given to telling lies.

Walking over to her dressing table, she sat down, stared at her face, leaning closer to the mirror. For once in her life she saw herself objectively, and she understood how beautiful she was. Hugo had fallen in love with her because of that beauty.

Leaning back in the chair, she closed her eyes, and thought of Hugo. He was nice-looking, and charming. She imagined he was a gentle soul, from what she had observed in those few days he had been here at Cavendon. And people who had never met him took to him immediately. Family and staff, who had known him as a young man, welcomed him with open arms. That said a lot, didn’t it?

Marriage to a powerful and wealthy man would protect her, wouldn’t it?

One thing was certain, it would ease the terrible burden on her parents. She had heard her mother say recently to her father that the situation was like living under the sword of Damocles.

Could she marry Hugo? Did she want to? Would he let her keep the baby? Or would she have to give it up for adoption? And could she do that? Give her baby away?