Barbara Bradford Taylor

The Cavendon Women


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busy, Dulcie too young, DeLacy too depressed. As for Diedre, she’s far too intellectual for such mundane matters like arranging events for a family get-together. Ceci was my only choice, because I think he needs back-up.’

      ‘Poor Miles. I feel sorry for him, working with my sister. He’ll get frostbite.’

      Charlotte laughed, shaking her head. Harry’s tone had a pithy edge, but then he always had an appropriate retort on the tip of his tongue.

      ‘I did have another reason though,’ Charlotte now volunteered.

      ‘I thought as much,’ Harry answered. ‘He’s so worn out and damaged. Miles needs some kindness. And Ceci will be kind to him, even though I know that deep down she’s still angry.’

      Charlotte eyed Harry, thinking how astute he was at times. But then he knew his sister well, and he and Miles had been friends since boyhood, had grown up here.

      ‘It did strike me I might be playing a dangerous game, getting them together,’ she said. ‘But then I realized they are both adults. Grown up enough to handle themselves, and their problems.’

      ‘I agree.’ He moved away, went to look at the flower beds, took a dead head off a bloom, put it in his pocket. Without looking at his aunt, he murmured, ‘You’re expecting some sort of trouble, aren’t you?’

      ‘To be honest, I’m not sure. A lot of mutterings and dire warnings perhaps, nothing we can’t cope with. On the other hand, I thought it better to be prepared. And there’s nobody like Cecily, when it comes to taking control of a difficult situation. Also, she can be neutral, very calming and rational. I’ve always told her she would’ve made a good diplomat – she’s a really good negotiator, you know.’

      ‘Who’s a good negotiator?’ Lady Dulcie asked from the doorway, and walked into the room, looking beautiful in a primrose-yellow summer dress. At eighteen she was very much the same person she had been as a child: outspoken, with a quick, facile tongue. She was no longer afraid of Diedre, but cautious around her eldest sister, and automatically wary. Self-confident, sure of herself socially, she had a superior intelligence.

      To Dulcie, Charlotte was like a mother; she had brought her up, alongside Nanny Clarice, and with Daphne’s help. These three women had been the biggest influences in her life.

      Gliding across the room, her face filled with smiles, Dulcie went straight into Charlotte’s outstretched arms. The two women hugged, and then stepped apart.

      Charlotte said, ‘It’s lovely to see you, I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed you. London was nice though, wasn’t it?’

      ‘It was, Miss Charlotte, and I really enjoyed staying with Aunt Vanessa. She helped me so much with my art history studies, but I’m very happy to be home.’ Glancing at Harry, whose eyes had never left her, she blushed slightly as she said, ‘Hello, Harry, it’s nice to see you.’

      He inclined his head, his face also full of happiness. ‘Welcome back, Lady Dulcie,’ was all he managed to get out. Inevitably, he became tongue-tied when the Earl’s youngest daughter was present. She was so beautiful, he became lightheaded whenever he was in her company. He adored her, secretly yearning to know her better.

      Charlotte took charge. ‘Look at the beautiful garden Harry’s created, Lady Dulcie. For the dinner tomorrow evening. It’s superb, isn’t it?’

      ‘I’ve never seen anything like it,’ Dulcie answered. Turning to Harry, she added, ‘Congratulations, you’re a true artist.’ Then she laughed. ‘I remember now, I did see one like it years ago, when I was about five. I barged in here, all covered in chocolate, just before the big dance was about to start.’

      Charlotte smiled, remembering this incident herself. She hadn’t been present, but she had certainly heard all about it the next day.

      ‘Apparently none of the ladies was able to come near you, since you were covered in that chocolate. At least, so I was told. They were afraid of the chocolate getting on their gowns.’

      Dulcie grinned, then asked, ‘Where’s Daphne? Do you know, Miss Charlotte? I haven’t been able to find her.’

      ‘I’m sure she’ll be back in the conservatory by now. She told me she was going there to check on all her seating plans.’

      ‘Then I shall go there. Once you’ve told me who the good negotiator is.’

      ‘Why Cecily, of course,’ Charlotte answered.

       FOUR

      ‘Welcome back, darling,’ Daphne said, as Dulcie rushed across the conservatory, and flung her arms around her favourite sister. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she added, and then held Dulcie away, staring at her intently. ‘More beautiful than ever,’ she pronounced.

      ‘No, no, no, you’re the renowned beauty of this family,’ Dulcie exclaimed, and went on swiftly, ‘I couldn’t get here quickly enough, I’ve so much to tell you. And mostly about Felicity.’

      Daphne nodded, and guided Dulcie over to the wicker loveseat, where they sat down. Ever since their mother had left Cavendon, Dulcie only ever referred to her as Felicity, never Mama. Sometimes she even referred to her as ‘that woman who abandoned me’, and had a string of ridiculous and rather nasty nicknames for her.

      Daphne understood why. Felicity had been too preoccupied with her sister’s fatal illness, and her own personal problems, to pay too much attention to Dulcie when she was little, and the child had never forgiven her. Now that she was a young woman, that animosity still lingered.

      Settling herself on the loveseat, Daphne said, ‘So, tell me everything, I’m all ears.’

      ‘I’ve been informed that Felicity is going to throw out Lawrence Pierce, that knife-wielding maniacal quack – and, by the way, that’s not the only thing he wields. From what I understand, he’s quite the womanizer, wielding his manhood everywhere.’

      Dulcie sat back next to her sister and waited for a reaction, her eyes fixed on Daphne’s face.

      Daphne burst out laughing, as always genuinely amused by Dulcie’s extraordinary use of language. Their father constantly said she had a unique way with words and should have been a writer, and Daphne thought the same thing.

      ‘Who told you this?’

      ‘Margaret Atholl’s mother,’ Dulcie answered. ‘Lady Dunham. She also said there’s a rumour that the marriage is unhappy, and Felicity is planning to return to Cavendon. She won’t come back, will she, Daphers? I couldn’t bear to have that greedy, man-hungry creature here. Papa wouldn’t fall for her again, would he?’

      Shaking her head, the laughter bubbling inside her, Daphne answered, ‘She won’t even attempt it. And certainly Father is not interested in her one iota. This is just idle gossip you’ve heard. However, perhaps she is going to throw the surgeon out. I, too, have heard stories about his behaviour.’

      ‘A flagrant and very experienced adulterer, who thinks he’s the Don Juan of all Don Juans, impossible to resist. And very conceited about his … hidden charms, shall we say?’

      Daphne couldn’t help laughing again, and then she finally managed to say, ‘All surgeons think they’re God, according to Diedre. Because they save lives, I suppose.’

      ‘Or ruin them,’ Dulcie shot back. There was a moment of silence, and then Dulcie moved closer, confided, ‘I think Aunt Vanessa might marry her artist friend. He’s awfully nice, by the way, and he’s from the very proper Barnard family, and well connected. He was very kind to me, helping me with my art history course.’

      Daphne was taken by surprise and gave Dulcie a penetrating look. ‘Are you sure there’s an engagement in the wind?’

      ‘I’m not absolutely certain, but it looks