Part 11 (2/2)
”I don't know, and frankly, Didi, I don't care,” her brother answered. ”I personally love it here at Cavendon in the summer. The tennis, the cricket, the swimming, the fis.h.i.+ng, the supper dances and summer entertaining. And the shooting when it starts on the Glorious Twelfth.”
”But we're always here for the Glorious Twelfth in August. That's a given. I'm talking about now, Guy, July,” Diedre protested.
Guy said, ”I don't think we'll be going to London this year. At least not as a family, for the season. Because Aunt Anne is too ill, and Mama doesn't want to be too far away. At least that's what Daphne told me.”
”Oh, what does old Daphers know, she's only interested in how she looks.”
Guy threw his sister an odd look, wondering why she was being mean, and changed the subject. He started to talk about Hugo Stanton, who was coming to visit them soon, asking Charlotte a lot of questions about Hugo, whom she had known years ago.
There was a sudden explosion of noise as a small figure, intent on making her presence felt, came rus.h.i.+ng into the room, exclaiming, ”I've come to tea, Papa! I can, can't I? I have to be at the party.”
At the sight of Dulcie flying across the floor as fast as her little feet would carry her, Charles jumped up from the sofa where he was sitting with his aunt. He immediately grabbed hold of his youngest child and swept her up into his arms. She had been about to entangle herself in the feet of the parlor maid, Mary, who was carrying a tray of fresh tea sandwiches over to Hanson, waiting near one of the tea trolleys.
”There we are, my darling,” Charles murmured, holding Dulcie against his chest. ”Yes, you're going to have tea. But first, how would you like to come with me to make an important telephone call?”
”Oh yes, Papa, I would. Can I speak on the teffolone?”
Everyone laughed, enjoying the antics of the pretty, if somewhat boisterous, child. Charles laughed too as he hurried off to the library, relieved he had managed to avert an accident with the maid.
He placed Dulcie in his desk chair, and said, ”Now be a good girl, darling, and once I have made the telephone call we will go back and have tea. You'd like a piece of jam roll, wouldn't you? And strawberries and cream?”
”Ooh, yes, Papa. I'll be a good girl,” Dulcie told him, smiling up at him brightly. She loved Papa and she was glad she was here with him. Now her sisters would know she was his favorite. She settled back against the leather chair, still smiling broadly, her little face radiant.
Picking up the telephone, Charles asked the exchange for the London number on the piece of paper. A moment or two later, an operator was announcing that this was Claridge's Hotel on the line. He asked for Mr. Hugo Stanton.
A moment later a masculine voice said, ”h.e.l.lo. Stanton speaking.”
”Your cousin Charles here, Hugo. I received your message of earlier, and called you back as soon as I could.”
”How wonderful to hear your voice after all these years!” Hugo exclaimed, sounding genuinely pleased. ”I telephoned you because I was hoping I might be able to change the date of my visit to Yorks.h.i.+re.”
For a moment Charles was taken aback, but he said evenly, ”Yes, of course. When would you prefer to come?”
”I was wondering, and rather hoping, that you would agree to this coming Friday. For a few days, as we'd always planned.”
Charles, somewhat startled, hesitated before saying, ”I think it will be all right, Hugo. I must warn you, we have a supper dance this weekend. If that does not disturb you, I think the change will be suitable. I must check with Felicity, of course. However, I don't see why not, old chap,” he finished, wanting to be cordial.
”Thank you, Charles. And by the way, I do like to dance, so I'll dance for my supper, so to speak. I would just like to add that I don't usually do this sort of thing, change dates. However, I have just been informed I must attend an important meeting in Zurich that very weekend I was due to come to Yorks.h.i.+re. The dates clash, I'm afraid.”
”I do understand, I a.s.sure you. These things happen occasionally. No problem at all. It's white tie, of course. I will telephone you tomorrow morning to confirm everything with you.”
”Thank you so much, Charles, and I can't wait to come back to Cavendon. Good night.”
”Good night,” Charles answered, and put the receiver down. He then picked up Dulcie and left the library.
She exclaimed, ”You didn't let me speak.”
”I know. I'm sorry, Dulcie, the man was in a hurry. So now we can go and have jam roll and strawberries and cream. Scrumptious.”
From the doorway of the yellow sitting room, holding Dulcie in his arms, Charles announced, ”Now listen to this bit of news, all of you.”
Everyone turned to stare at him.
”I just spoke to Hugo Stanton and he's arriving here next Friday afternoon instead of later in July.”
”How wonderful!” Aunt Gwendolyn exclaimed. ”I can't wait to see him again.”
”Someone new to dance with, Papa!” DeLacy cried.
Felicity asked, ”How did this come about, Charles?”
”Hugo telephoned earlier, when I was out walking. I just spoke to him. He's staying at Claridge's Hotel. And he has a conflict with dates. It is all right, isn't it? Next weekend?”
”Yes. It's not a problem. And DeLacy is correct. It will be nice to have a new guest, and especially a cousin we haven't seen for so long. He can dance with all the young ladies, as Lacy suggested. And perhaps some of the older ones, too.”
Twenty-two.
”Want to go out for a stroll?” Gordon Lane asked, smiling at Peggy. ”I feel like a cig, and a breath of air.”
She smiled back. ”Why not? I'll just tell Cook.”
Gordon nodded. He took off his tie, waistcoat, and jacket, hung them on a peg, and pushed the packet of cigarettes and matches into a trouser pocket.
”Cook says it's all right,” Peggy told him, coming back into the servants' hall. ”But she says not to stay out too long. She'll wait for us.” Peggy grinned. ”Mrs. Jackson says she doesn't want Hanson locking us out.”
”And he would too, the silly old b.u.g.g.e.r.”
”Gordon, be careful,” Peggy hissed, taking off her cap and ap.r.o.n and hanging them on another peg. ”Come on, let's have that stroll before he arrives on the scene and stops us.”
The two of them went out of the back door, and Gordon, taking hold of Peggy's hand, said, ”Let's walk down to the bluebell woods. I'll have a cig, and then we'll walk back. Half an hour at the most. All right with you?”
She nodded. ”I don't want to go into the woods, though, Gordon. It's scary in there in the dark.”
He looked down, grinning at her. ”You've got me to protect you, my la.s.s, and anyway it's not so dark tonight. Look at that there full moon s.h.i.+ning down on us. Romantic, eh?”
Peggy was silent for a moment, then she said quietly in a firm voice, ”I won't do it, Gordon. I hope you understand that. I don't mind a bit of a cuddle and a few kisses, but that's all.”
”I know. You're always telling me that. Just a kiss and a cuddle, then. Anyway, we can't be outside for too long, we don't want to get locked out. Then we'd have to sleep in the stables.”
Peggy just smiled, said nothing.
They walked on in silence, lost in their own thoughts. They had no way of knowing it, but they were thinking about each other.
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