Once and for Always, page 20
Chapter 24
Bea had abandoned having her breakfast in bed in favour of joining Simon. It gave them a chance to go through the papers together. The absence of any further innuendoes was welcome and Simon suggested they give a small dinner party. Bea was horrified. ‘Will anyone come?’ A refused invitation seemed even worse than not being invited elsewhere.
‘We have support,’ Simon assured her, ‘but we have to be seen to stand on our own feet.’
It made sense but Bea waited anxiously for the invitations to be acknowledged. Another worry was that she had never given a party of any kind. Simon could help with the guest list but she had no idea how to be a hostess.
On Jane’s advice Bea called a meeting of her senior staff. In the short time they had been serving her everyone, from Harris, the butler to the maid who assisted Dora, had taken Lady Ridgeworth to their hearts. Her natural good manners and her devotion to Lord Ridgeworth outweighed any scurrilous gossip. They had been with his lordship throughout the trials of his first marriage. Lady Monica’s behaviour had of necessity been tolerated on the surface but they were not taken in by the charm she only used when she had an audience. Servants did not count and they had appreciated the new Lady Ridgeworth’s courtesy in thanking them for their service.
To Bea’s surprise the staff threw themselves into the venture. The chef suggested menus, pleased to find her ladyship did not need the French terms interpreted. His talents had been under-utilised of late and he looked forward to making her party memorable for its elegant cuisine.
Mrs Watts, the housekeeper liked having a mistress who respected her experience although she never took advantage. Before making any decision she always consulted her mistress and appreciated that she was thanked for her advice. Mrs Watts found a book on etiquette which they went through together. It did not seem quite so daunting after all. A hostess welcomed her guests according to their rank, seated them accordingly and made sure known rivals were kept apart. She also had to make sure everyone had a chance to join in the conversation.
‘What do they talk about? Bea asked. Mrs Watts pursed her lips, more to hide a smile than in censure. ‘Well, my lady, as you know, servants are deaf, dumb and blind unless told to do something.’
‘What nonsense! I am not asking you to divulge secrets!’ Bea laughed.
‘In that case I suggest you ask what interests them and just listen. If anyone seems left out, you ask their opinion so they can join it.’
Bea thought it sounded very like running a bookshop.
All the invited guests accepted. They were mostly from Simon’s political circle and would bring their wives. Jane would be there too, escorted by Michael. Bea invited Lady Leith and a friend to keep the numbers even. All seemed to be going well until Lady Leith wrote back to ask if she might bring her god-daughter, Lady Marchant.
Bea and Simon were at the breakfast table and he looked up when Bea gave a worried exclamation. ‘I can’t refuse but we will be short of two men.’
‘I’ll get Peters, my secretary, to fill in and I know plenty of single men who are willing to came at short notice if it means a free meal. Will that do?’
Bea did not care if he invited the coalman and Simon laughed as she said it. ‘Peters will be quite acceptable. And Lady Marchant will be a valuable asset. She is one of Princess Alexandra’s ladies.’
On the day of the dinner Bea was wracked with nerves. What if she did something wrong? This was one occasion when neither Jane nor Simon could be constantly by her side. She had dressed with care in a gown of dark rose silk that added some colour to her cheeks and wore the diamond necklace and earrings Simon had given her earlier.
‘Good luck,’ Dora said as Bea went down to join Simon in the hall ready to greet their guests as they arrived.
Lady Leith came first and introduced Lady Clara Marchant, Countess of Shortwood. She was a little older than Bea and bore a marked resemblance to the Princess of Wales. Simon bowed and the ladies curtsied. They exchanged conventional greetings, spoken by Lady Marchant in a slight foreign accent. It was all very polite but Bea felt she was being thoroughly assessed.
The other guests followed shortly after. They were all older than Bea, except Michael who looked around with a grimace. ‘You owe me a favour for this,’ he whispered. ‘Not my sort of thing at all.’
‘Then it is doubly kind of you to come and support me.’
Jane had arranged to give Bea a secret sign when it was time to change the courses and, later to take the ladies into the drawing room.
Bea led the way to the dining room on the arm of a gruff, elderly man whose name she had already forgotten. He patted her hand where it lay on his arm and muttered, ‘Ease up, girlie. We don’t bite.’ Bea laughed as she caught the twinkle in his eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered back.
The dinner party was a quiet and dignified success. Bea enjoyed listening to and sometimes joining in the conversations. She read the newspapers and kept abreast of current affairs so it was not too difficult. Much of it was to do with Canada and the celebrations planned in honour of it becoming a Dominion. By contrast, when Bea led the ladies to the drawing room the talk turned to families, fashion and entertainments. Bea preferred the former.
As they took their leave Lady Leith handed Bea an envelope. ‘An invitation to a soiree I am holding in celebration of Canada becoming a Dominion. The Prince and Princess of Wales will be the guests of honour.’
Bea was speechless. Lady Marchant nodded. ‘The Princess is eager to meet you,’ she said and moved away to say goodbye to some of the other guests.
‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Bea said, taking Lady Leith’s hand.
Lady Leith gave and almost mischievous grin. ‘Then you will not mind if I poach your footman. He has potential but will never gain respect if he is seen as your favourite.’
Bea was not sure what Freddie would have to say about that but remembering how he was enjoying his new status felt he would welcome a chance to prove himself.
When everyone else had left, Jane swooped in and whirled Bea around in a circle. ‘You have passed the test! I did not dare to tell you beforehand in case it made you nervous.’
‘I was nervous,’ Bea replied. ‘Thank you for being such a support.’
Later, when they were at last alone, Bea asked Simon, ‘Did you know about this?’ placing the precious invitation on her dressing table.
‘Lady Leith asked me to visit her. She is the daughter of an earl and widow of a marquis and still holds a position of respect and influence in Society. Lady Marchant was deputising for the Princess of Wales before you were officially received.’
‘Oh, how can I thank them?’
Simon grinned, ‘You can thank me instead.’
Next morning Simon received a bulky envelope bearing Mr Jones heavy writing.
Simon drew Bea close. Whatever Jones had found, Bea had the right to know.
They read the letter first.
My Lord Ridgeworth.
You will find enclosed my report and supporting evidence. Does your lordship wish to take further action? I would suggest leaking this to the press but await your instructions.
Jones had excelled himself. His previous investigation of Fleming had ceased when the bogus marriage came to light but that gave him a head start. He had gone straight to Edinburgh and found that the Robinson Flemings were not generally well thought of. A previous Robinson Fleming had cleared his large land holdings of residents in order to run sheep. He had cast off his heir (Robert Robinson Fleming) in favour of a nephew, Arthur. RRF had continued to be a thorn in his father’s side by setting up as a successful businessman but only using his last name. The nephew was a gambler and had been involved in a recent court case for assault. (see newspaper cutting).
Simon thumbed through the enclosures he found it.
The cutting reported a case heard at Cheltenham Magistrates Court on 19th March 1867.
Mr Arthur Robinson Fleming had assaulted Mr Williams at the St Patrick’s Day race meeting. An argument had arisen over a case of mistaken identity. The combatants had continued to throw insults at each other in court and were both fined for disturbing the peace. (Refer to statements).
Most of the statements were only hearsay but it boiled down to the fact that Williams had mistaken ARF for his cousin, a financier who was married to a bookseller/bookkeeper? in Cambridge, Williams home town. Both men had been drinking and the argument was overheard by many people.
Mr Arthur RF had loudly condemned his cousin as a bad lot. He threw doubt on his parentage, his business dealings and called him a womaniser. It is interesting to note that Mr Robert RF did not live with his wife who moved to Italy last year for health reasons. He openly lived with a woman separated from her husband but was reputed have had other liaisons. I cannot say how the news spread but both the argument, assault and court case were conducted in the presence of many, unidentified listeners who may or may not have had contacts in London.
Bea sagged against Simon’s shoulder. ‘I am glad it was not one of our trusted friends.’
‘I know you were fond of Rob,’ Simon almost choked on the name, ‘but letting this out will gain you sympathy and clear your name.’
‘And blacken his,’ Bea said sadly. Bea thought of all the good people who had gone out of their way to help her at a risk to their own reputations. ‘Do what you think best. Nothing can hurt him now.’
Simon kissed her brow. ‘You are too kind, Bea. Personally, I think it a just punishment.’
Epilogue
Ridgeworth Court. 24th December 1869
Simon paced the corridors of his ancestral home in Berkshire. Bea had been in labour since the early hours of the morning and it was now nearing midnight. And Simon was worried sick. Why was it taking so long? He had sent word to the London doctor who had been monitoring Bea but there was little chance of him getting here any time soon. The local doctor was in bed with influenza so Bea was left in the hands of a midwife, Jane and Dora.
Another cry from the bedroom tore at Simon’s heart and he wanted to rush to her side again. He had stayed with Bea until the midwife told him he was doing more harm than good with his worrying and thrust him bodily from the room. Her parting words, ‘She’s a bit old to be having a first baby and doesn’t need you crying on her shoulder,’ did not inspire confidence.
Simon had been wearing the carpet thin ever since as he walked up and down, never more than a few yards from the bedroom door.
Dear God, please don’t take her away from me, Simon prayed. He was not overly religious but who else could comfort him now?
Truro was downstairs drinking the best brandy. Noakes was as anxious as a dog guarding a bone and the entire staff were on edge. Even the dog, Scamp kept escaping from the kitchen to press his nose against the bedroom door.
Thank goodness for Jane’s calm competence. She and Lily had come to spend Christmas and stay until after the birth which was not expected until mid-January. Jane had kept the household on an even keel since Bea failed to come downstairs for breakfast which was just as well. With Alan and his children also here for the holiday and more guests expected tomorrow the staff needed someone in authority to look to for the endless details Simon could not have cared less about.
All he cared about was suffering beyond his reach. Suffering brought about by his own unrestrained passion. Another cry made Simon reach for the door handle ready to rush to Bea’s side when a trio of children appeared at the end of the passage.
Simon was jerked out of his own worry. This was no place for children. He had expected them to be fast asleep by now.
‘Lionel and Sarah woke me up to ask if it is Christmas yet,’ Lily explained. ‘Then I strange noises and came to see what was happening.’ Bea had become almost like a sister to lily and aunt to Lionel and Sarah. They all adored her and had been affected by the general unrest in the house. Lily was old enough to understand and was enjoying being the eldest for a change but Alan’s children were still at the babies being delivered by a stork stage.
Lily came close to Simon and whispered, ‘Lionel thinks Bea is going to die because a stork came and took her baby away. Just like his mama did.’
Simon did not know who had told the boy such a stupid tale but it was not his problem. He had more than enough to worry about. He turned Lily about and propelled her back to the youngsters. ‘Their papa is in the library. Take them down to him.’ Once they were safely out of sight, Simon returned to his position by the bedroom door.
Everything had gone ominously quiet. Was that worse than Bea’s screams?
Simon had never known any torment like this. The scandal had been harrowing at the time but soon forgotten. The scandal sheets had lapped up the new information and transformed Bea into an innocent girl taken advantage of by a trusted family friend. Now Bea was accepted everywhere and was well on her way to being a renowned political hostess. She had so much to live for.
For him. She had promised once and for always. Simon knew he was being irrational. Bea’s torment was his fault. How could she possibly love him after this?
The bedroom door opened. Dora beamed and said, ‘You have a son.’
Simon rushed past her into the bedroom and fell on his knees beside the bed. Bea was propped up on pillows and holding a white bundle. She smiled and held out her hand. Simon could hardly see her through his tears but she looked more beautiful than ever before. ‘I love you, Bea. I thought I was going to lose you,’ he croaked.
Bea shook her head. ‘Once and for Always, remember. Once and for Always.’
Linda Jones, Once and for Always
