an indefinite period. They’re going to stay at their London residence. They’ve let all of the staff up here go, and everyone’s down in the dumps and desperately looking for work.’
Hanson felt as if he had just been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer. He had heard that the Fullertons were in a bad way, but had not realized how bad. Yet another aristocratic family feeling the pinch, going under, he thought, and then said quietly, ‘No, we’re not hiring at the moment, Cook,’ and left it at that.
Whatever anybody else thought, he knew that Cavendon was still safe. Lady Daphne had assured him of that. Nonetheless, he did worry a lot, even though he knew she would never lie to him. Lately there had been a lot of penny-pinching and cuts, and Lady Daphne had discovered a new phrase. ‘We’re on a budget, Hanson.’ When he heard those words he cringed.
But Lady Daphne and Mr Hugo were clever, and now that they were involved in the running of Cavendon there was a great deal of efficiency. Not that His Lordship was inefficient, but his heart attack, which had felled him last year, had slowed him down.
Mr Hugo had insisted on taking matters into his own hands, and so had Miles. They all worked well together, made a good team.
Last year, Miles had turned to him for guidance, and he had been happy to explain certain matters to do with the house. In fact, he had given him what turned out to be a short course on the house, and the many valuable possessions in it. All were exceedingly precious, from the paintings and the silver to the magnificent antiques.
The paintings in the Long Gallery included some extraordinary masterpieces, such as those by Constable, Gainsborough and Lely. These three great portraitists had painted the Ingham ancestors, and there were also Canalettos, Van Dykes, and Rembrandts. ‘Another safety net the earlier Inghams provided us with,’ Lady Daphne had said to Miles one afternoon last week. He had looked at her askance. ‘Would we ever sell any?’ he had asked, sounding slightly aghast. Hanson remembered now how she had answered in a low voice, ‘If we have to, we will.’
He himself had jumped in and exclaimed: ‘It will never come to that, surely not, Lady Daphne.’ And he had flashed her a warning signal with his eyes.
Understanding him immediately, she had smiled at her brother and murmured, ‘However, things are improving, and Hugo has sold some of our Wall Street investments, so we have money in the bank.’ She had then turned to Hanson, and said, ‘Let’s continue our little tour of the house, go up to the attics, and Miles can view the rare antiques stored there.’
‘About the Sunday luncheon,’ Susie said, rousing Hanson from his reverie.
He nodded, and replied at once. ‘Buffet style, as we decided, Cook. We always served the food that way when we had the summer cotillions. Lovely evenings they were. Well, not to digress. Lady Daphne’s menu is a good guideline for you, but you can add other dishes if you wish. Perhaps cold poached salmon, asparagus and smoked salmon, dishes like that.’
They went on talking for a few moments, and then finally Hanson left the kitchen, made his way to the wine cellar to select the champagne for tomorrow’s dinner. Definitely Dom Pérignon.
The light knocking made Diedre sit up straighter at the desk. She called, ‘Come in,’ and looked at the door expectantly.
It was Dulcie who appeared in the entrance to her bedroom, and for a second Diedre was astonished by her appearance. The girl bore a strong resemblance to how Daphne had looked when she was eighteen – was actually her spitting image. All blonde and golden and blue-eyed … well, they all had blue eyes, of course. But here was the most gorgeous girl she had ever seen, except for her sister Daphne at the same age.
Smiling hugely, Diedre got up and walked across the room to put her arms around Dulcie; she gave her a big bear hug, held her close for a moment, then stepped away.
Dulcie was astonished by this gesture from her sister, who had scared the life out of her when she was a child.
Diedre smiled at her once again, added, ‘I haven’t seen you for almost two years; you’ve become a true beauty, Dulcie. You look so much like Daphne when she was your age, it’s quite startling.’
Even more taken aback, Dulcie could only nod. After a split second, she found her voice. Peering at her eldest sister, she said, ‘What happened to you, Diedre? You were always the mean sister, saying very nasty things to me. Unkind things. Have you been taking nice pills?’
Diedre stared at her, and then began to laugh. ‘You seem to have taken a leaf out of Great-Aunt Gwendolyn’s book—’
‘No, yours!’ Dulcie shot back swiftly, cutting her off. ‘Definitely yours … there’s nothing quite like learning at the knee of the master, is there?’
‘Too true,’ Diedre replied, laughter still echoing in her voice. Years ago she would have taken umbrage at Dulcie’s attitude and comments. But not now. The death of her lover had changed her, given her a different approach to life. She was much kinder and nicer. Intense grief had taught her a lot about people, and about herself. Death had softened her; loss had taught her compassion.
Now Diedre said, ‘I must have been really mean to you when you were little. I was, wasn’t I?’
‘I’ll say!’ Dulcie answered sharply, walking into the bedroom and sitting down in a chair near the oriel window. ‘I couldn’t do right for doing wrong, as far as you were concerned. You were nasty, said some really rotten things. You called me a little madam, for one thing.’
Diedre shook her head, shocked to hear this. ‘How terrible, so awful of me actually. I must have been going through some strange stage myself.’
‘I doubt it, because you were always like that. Truly mean. At least to me. But, in a way, you toughened me up, and that’s served me well,’ Dulcie replied in her normal blunt manner. ‘However, there was no reason for you to be so cruel. I was only five. Just a little girl,’ she finished in a sharp tone.
‘I’m so very sorry, Dulcie,’ Diedre said, her voice filled with sincerity as she sat down at her desk and looked across at her sister. ‘I can’t bear the thought I treated you badly. That I was mean, unkind. Will you accept my apology? Can we be friends?’
‘I suppose so. It all depends on how you treat me now, you know. I won’t stand for any of that old nonsense.’
Diedre wanted to laugh at her outspokenness, but she swallowed hard and said, ‘I promise I won’t verbally abuse you. Or upset you in any way.’
‘All right.’ Dulcie now gave her a pointed look. ‘Why are you being so nice to me?’
‘Because I like you. No, I love you. You’re my sister, after all, and we should all stick together, be close. Closer than we’ve been in the past.’
Dulcie was still wondering what this was about. She exclaimed, ‘That’s an odd thing for you to say. You used to behave as if I was a poisonous snake.’
A look of chagrin flowed across Diedre’s face, and she felt a tightening in her chest. How could she have behaved in such a dreadful way towards her baby sister? It was suddenly incomprehensible to her. And then it hit her. She had been unhappy at that time, at odds with the family, and she had taken it out on a child. Shame filled her, rendered her silent. She had been a mean-spirited woman, it seemed, and she was saddened.
After a moment, Dulcie said, ‘You’re looking morose. What is it? Is there something wrong, Diedre?’
There was such concern in her sister’s voice, Diedre felt even worse, and she did not answer. After a short silence she finally said, ‘I am feeling very ashamed of myself for treating you the way I did … After all, you were only a child, as you’ve just reminded me.’
‘Perhaps you were a little jealous because Papa spoiled and pampered me.’