Authors: Victoria Holt
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Suspense, #Gothic, #Romantic Suspense Novels, #Romance Fiction, #Historical Fiction
I left them at the table but Philip caught me up.
“Perhaps today,” he said. “The late afternoon and we’ll get there about half past six. You’ll enjoy it. Ask your grandmother.”
When I told Grand’mere she seemed very pleased.
“I like him,” she said. “He’s the best of the bunch.”
Since she was so pleased I could look forward to the evening with even greater pleasure.
Philip was an expert with the oars. He said he liked rowing and had had plenty of practice at the University, so we could trust ourselves with him.
“I shall be in London a great deal now,” he told us. “This morning I have been to Spitalfields. There is a lot to be learned.”
Grand’mere said: “Your brother does not share your enthusiasm.”
“True,” agreed Philip. “In a way I’m rather pleased. I fancy it will give me a freer hand. I should hate interference.”
“He will be a sort of sleeping partner,” I said.
“Even the most prosperous business cannot afford sleeping partners,” stated Grand’mere. “It is necessary for all to do their share.”
”I don’t think he has the feeling for silk … or for business. Charles ought to go into Parliament… or law or something.”
“I am sure you will be successful,” I told him.
His brow clouded a little. “Do you know,” he said, “I think my father’s stroke was brought about through anxiety.”
“I think that could be very likely,” agreed Grand’mere.
“Do you mean he was worried about business?” I asked.
Philip nodded. “Things are not quite what they should be. I wouldn’t say this to anyone else, but you have always understood, Lenore, and as for you, Madame Cleremont, you are part of the business. No, certainly things are not what they should be.”
“I gathered that from your father some time ago,” said Grand’mere.
“It’s these foreign imports,” Philip explained. “Sales of our silks have declined and they go on declining.”
“Do you think there should be a duty on foreign goods?” I asked.
He was thoughtful. “It would be useful, of course. We could then price our materials higher. We would not have to compete so rigorously. But whether one believes in free trade or not is a big question. One has to ask oneself whether one would wish for it on other commodities. It would hardly be fair to expect a tariff on what suits us. Do we want it on silk because we are limping along?”
“What we need,” put in Grand’mere, “is to find some new style of weaving … something that produces a beautiful material … better in every way from what we have already.”
“A secret method,” I suggested.
“Exactly!” cried Philip, his eyes shining. “A secret method of producing something which has never been produced before with no one else knowing how it is done.”
“Wouldn’t they soon discover?” I asked.
“They might, but they would not be allowed to use it. There is such a thing as a patent. It prevents people by law from stealing someone else’s invention.”
“What a good thing!”
“First we have to find the invention,” said Philip ruefully. “Oh, here we are.”
We tied up the boat and climbed the stairs to the footpath.
“Greenwich has always appealed to me,” said Philip, “because it was one of the headquarters used by the Huguenot refugees. I always wonder whether my ancestors came here before they went to Spitalfields. They even have their own chapel here. I don’t think it is in existence now. And here is the Crown and Sceptre.”
The inn had bow windows to enable those seated there to get a good view of the river.
“They are noted for their whitebait,” said Philip, “so we must have that. Do you like whitebait, Madame Cleremont?”
“It depends,” replied Grand’mere. “It has to be freshly caught, I believe.”
“You can rely on that here.”
The innkeeper’s wife came up to talk to us. She knew Philip so obviously he was a frequent visitor. He would like to think of his ancestors coming here all those years ago.
”I was assuring my friends that the whitebait would be fresh,” he said.
“Why, bless you,” said the woman. “This morning it was swimming in the sea.”
“And you have the secret of cooking them just as they should be.”
“Oh, it is no secret. It is the only way to serve whitebait to my mind. I remember my mother throwing them into a layer of flour, all spread out on a cloth and shaking them to make sure they were all covered. Then they are thrown into a cauldron of boiling fat … just for a minute or so … then drain ‘em off and they’re ready to eat. Now you must be quick or they’ll lose their crispness. Served up with a sprinkling of lemon and a dash of cayenne pepper and they’re a real treat. And they should be washed down with the right liquid … say, some punch or iced champagne.”
“Which shall it be?” asked Philip.
We settled for the iced champagne.
Over this, Philip said:’ ‘My brother and I are going to France shortly. My father is hoping that our connections in Villers-Mure will let us work there for a short while. He is sure that we have a great deal to learn … discover how other people do things … get new ideas for the business.” He looked at Grand’mere. “It is your old home. What do you think? Is it a good idea?”
“It’s always useful to find out how people do things in other countries,” said Grand’mere.
“I wish we could produce right from the very start. I’ve often thought we should set up in India or China, which is the right sort of environment. In some parts of China I believe the silkworm is reared out of doors. That would surely get the best results. As it is we have to import our raw materials.”
”Even in Villers-Mure they have to have artificial heat for the mulberries,” said Grand’mere. “It is really cheaper to have the materials brought into the country and concentrate on the weaving.”
“Of course you are right,” said Philip. He turned to me. “Are we boring you with all this talk, Lenore?”
“Not in the least.”
“Lenore is interested in silk and I think she has a special feeling for the finished product,” said Grand’mere.
“I expect you will be coming up to town quite a lot now.”
”Why?” asked Grand’mere.
“Well, Julia will be here.”
“She will not need us,” I said. “She will be involved in social activities.”
“For which Lenore does not qualify,” added Grand’mere.
“Oh, Lenore is too young as yet.”
“I shall soon be sixteen,” I said.
“You seem older, doesn’t she, Madame Cleremont? So much more sensible than Julia.”
“This is my upbringing,” said Grand’mere. “Lenore is not in Julia’s position. There will be no bringing out for her.”
“I am glad of that,” said Philip earnestly.
“Why?” asked Grand’mere sharply.
“I don’t think it would suit Lenore … to be paraded. It’s all right for Julia … not Lenore.”
“You think Lenore is not one of the family and therefore …”
“I am thankful that she is not one of the family.”
He took my hand and pressed it and I saw Grand’mere’s eyes were shining. “I think,” she said, “that you and I feel that there is something rather … how do you say? … special about my granddaughter.”
“You and I seem to be in agreement about almost everything, Madame Cleremont.”
Grand’mere sat back and lifted her glass. “To the future,” she said. And I felt that the pair of them had sealed a pact.
We were all rather thoughtful on the way home and when we were in bed that night, Grand’mere said: “What a delightful young man Philip has grown into.”
“He is always gentle and kind.”
”So different from his brother. It is strange how people differ. Some say it is in their upbringing, but those two boys have been brought up together … and see what a difference.”
“Yes,” I said, thinking of Charles in the mausoleum.
“I believe he is fond of you. I mean … I know he is fond of you. What he said this evening …”
“What did he say … only that he was glad I was not one of the family.”
“You know what he meant. He is in love with you. He is waiting to say so only because you are so young. Perhaps in a year … you’ll be just on seventeen and …”
I laughed. “Oh, Grand’mere, you are romancing. Do you want so much to get me off your hands?”
“More than anything in the world 1 want your happiness. 1 want you to be cherished and loved. That is what I want … before I go.”
“I wish you would not talk about going.”
“I do not intend to go for a long time, but one must be practical. Look at Sir Francis … well one day and struck down the next. Oh, he has recovered they say, but he will never be the man he was. I should be so happy if I saw that everything was settled for you. Philip has always been fond of you. I have always known that he was the one. He has that wonderful enthusiasm for his business. He would be dedicated to his work, to his wife and his family.”
“Grand’mere, I feel you are making a situation to fit what you want.”
She shook her head. “Tonight he showed his feelings clearly. It was almost a proposal.”
“I did not see it as such. I think he was just trying to be kind because he thought I felt left out of this presentation business.”
“No. No. I am a happy woman tonight. I see the way ahead.”
“Well, Grand’mere, I am glad you are happy.”
“Good night, my child, and may the good God bless you.”
I lay awake thinking about what she had said. I tried to recall every moment of that visit to the Crown and Sceptre. What had Philip said that was so revealing? I knew that he liked me. He had always been kind and friendly and I had looked upon him and Cassie as my best friends in the house.
Had there really been something significant about that conversation—or had Grand’mere tried to fit it into her dreams? I suspected her of that now and then.
And myself … married to Philip! Most girls think of marrying when they get into their teens. They dream of knights and heroes of romance. St. George … No, nobody wanted a saint. Sir Lancelot was more eligible. He had been a sinner but a great lover. Loving recklessly was more attractive than slaying dragons. People like Nelson … Drake …
Drake, of course. There had been something exciting about him. Julia had recognized it. What if it had been Drake who had said what Philip did at the table in the Crown and Sceptre? What should I be feeling now?
Quite excited. Well, I was excited now, for it was exciting to be loved … if that was what Philip had meant by those cryptic words.
The days passed quickly. Charles and Philip left for France, for Sir Francis had recovered sufficiently to resume his normal life; and Grand’mere with Julia and myself returned to The Silk House.
Lady Sallonger greeted me rather peevishly telling me that she had had a very bad time. Miss Logan’s voice tired quickly, and Cassie did not put the same expression into the words as I did. We had remained away longer than we had said we would. She had all the anxiety of worrying about Sir Francis.
“If I could go to London and look after him I would be happy to do so,” she said. “But here I am … a poor invalid unable to move from my couch … and everyone deserting me. No one seems to realize that I cannot move about. 1 am quite chilled. Ring the bell for them to put some more coal on the fire and is that window open? Well, please close it and bring me my red rug … I cannot endure this blue one… . Oh, the fire, Henry … The red rug, Lenore … that blue one is so scratchy … and my skin is so delicate. See if you can find something to read to me.”
So it went on. Grand’mere was right in saying that Lady Sal-longer was getting more demanding than ever. She commanded that I be in attendance whenever I was not in the schoolroom.
I did manage to get to Grand’mere’s room. I told Lady Sal-longer that 1 was needed to help with Julia’s clothes. The one thing which we had managed to impress on Lady Sallonger was the importance of Julia’s coming out. She herself had “come out” so she knew all about it, although it was, of course, a much more demanding matter in those days when the Prince Consort was alive. Then things had been conducted with far more decorum. She had come out and been the success of the season. The offers she had had … !
I found her description of the London scene in her days more entertaining than sitting listening to her continual demands, so I encouraged her to speak of it and I learned what it meant to be a young girl in her days; and she grew quite animated remembering.
“There were afternoon parties where everyone was in full evening dress. Drawing Rooms, they called them. They had left those horrid little dark apartments in St. James’s Palace and were held in the Throne Boom at Buckingham Palace. We were selected with the greatest care in those days. Such a time it was … learning to curtsy and how to walk backwards. It was a nightmare … particularly with a train of about three or four yards in length. Those plumes and veils! And being stuffed into your corsets! It was agony for some of the girls. Of course I had a naturally slender waist. And all for a few minutes of being presented to Her Majesty. Oh dear, what days they were! And Sir Francis swept me off my feet before I had a chance with anyone else. I am sure I should have married a duke if I had not been caught up so quickly. How we danced in those days! My foot is going to sleep. Do massage it, Lenore.”
So we were back to the familiar, and dreams of past glories faded.
But I did manage to spend some time with Grand’mere. Emmeline was constantly clothed in the most expensive garments. Cassie, who was often with us, was very fond of Emmeline. She made up stories and was sure that, when it was dark, the three dummies came to life and talked about the triumphs they had enjoyed before they were turned into dummies by some wicked witch. She was sure Emmeline smiled inwardly when she was swathed in blue silk.
Julia was happier now. She was back at home. She enjoyed the dancing lessons in which I always had to take part as the gentleman, which I enjoyed very much too. Cassie used to sit watching us, applauding. But I loved best being in the sewing room, taking a turn at Grand’mere’s machine, feeling the softness of the silken materials and wishing they were being made for me.
Mia was getting fatter. I think anxiety made her eat even more than normal. I wondered what the Countess would say when she saw what weight Julia was putting on. Grand’mere was concerned that the dresses might not fit when the time came to wear them.