Once and for Always, page 5
Bea could not help laughing. He was not being rude so she pulled a face and said, ‘That is not a very polite thing to say to a lady.
‘Isn’t it? Violet is always telling me I don’t know how to behave like a Viscount.’
‘How long have you held the title?’
‘Too long.’ He sighed.
‘It is awful to lose one’s father,’ Bea commiserated.
Michael frowned. ‘Is it? I hardly noticed as he never spent much time with us.’
How many more pieces are there to this puzzle? Bea wondered. Too many to be coped with tonight. She said she was tired and would like to go back to her room.
Chapter 6
Next morning Michael sent a note saying they would complete the journey by train. Her luggage could follow in his carriage. Bea went along to his room as soon as she was dressed to tell him this would not do. Michael looked startled. when he opened his door and hissed, ‘You can’t come in here even if you are my cousin. I will see you downstairs.’ The door closed in Bea’s face and she felt like stamping her foot in irritation. She was not going to arrive at Lady Lessing’s door with only a small bag and a creased dress. Bea stomped down the stairs to the lounge and ordered coffee for something to do while she waited.
Michael soon joined her and started with a lecture. ‘Don’t you know it is disaster to go to a man’s room?’ Of course, she did. But she was worried about their things.
‘I can’t turn up on your mother’s doorstep with only one dress.’
Michael looked her up and down. ‘Mama will find you something. You are about the same size as Violet.’ He frowned. ‘No, perhaps you should not ask Violet, she gets into a pet at the least little thing. But Mama is nice. She never gets upset. Every says how nice she is.’
That seemed to contradict some of his previous statements. Perhaps the boy really was addled in his wits.
Bea almost dreaded to ask about the changes to their journey.
‘You will love it,’ Michael assured her. ‘I take the train whenever I can but there was no connection.’ Bea stopped him as he launched into a recital of his journeys and escaped back to her room.
Dora greeted her with, ‘That boy is so excited about going on a train.’ Bea blinked before she realised Dora was referring to Freddie. ‘And the driver wants to see you. He is not happy.’
Bea trailed downstairs again and out to the carriage yard. From the looks she received this was somewhere else a lady should not go.
‘I am not happy,’ the driver declared. ‘I don’t know what the boss will say. First, we trail that young sprig now he wants your things transferred to his carriage. I don’t know what the boss will say about me leaving you with someone you had never met until yesterday.’
Bea didn’t care what the boss said about anything. She was sorely tempted to ask to be taken to Felixstowe. In the last month her life had been turned upside down, inside out and sideways. She wanted time and space and silence, not necessarily in that order. ‘Please just do as instructed. I will write to your employer.’ Then it was back upstairs again to put on her hat.
Dora had done a hasty raid on their trunks and retrieved a few more essential items. The repacked bags were taken down and given to Freddie. He was also burdened with another bag that Michael assumed he would carry. That was the last she saw of Freddie or luggage until much later.
Bea and Dora enjoyed the luxury of a first-class, ladies only compartment. The other ladies looked down their noses and ignored them.
Bea was glad the journey was relatively short. Under different circumstances she would probably have been as excited as Freddie. The closer they got to London the more Bea’s apprehension increased. What was she supposed to do when the train stopped? Where was Michael? Where was Freddie and their luggage? Was Lady Lessing a domestic tyrant or ‘very nice’?
When the train stopped Michael was suddenly there to help her down. A little further down the platform Freddie and a porter were loading the bags onto a trolley. A uniformed footman was waiting at the barrier to show the way to two carriages waiting at the station entrance.
‘How did they know to be here,’ Bea asked. ‘The hotel sent a telegram,’ Michael replied as though it was the normal thing to do.
It was one more highlight of the way her life had changed. The Hastings had led quiet but busy lives. If anything needed doing, they generally did it themselves. Michael assumed any wish he had would be met.
As they travelled westwards the streets became wider and the houses larger. The poorly dressed pedestrians were replaced by elegant people strolling arm in arm. Bea watched it all with excitement mixed with trepidation.
The carriage stopped in a square with a fenced garden in the centre. Bea could not see the tops of the houses from the carriage but the number of windows suggested they were all very large. The footman jumped down and ran to thump on the nearest door before hurrying back to open the carriage door. Michael helped Bea down and she had her first real glance of London at its best.
A recent shower had left the pavements sparkling in the Spring sunshine. A gentle breeze carried the scent of new growth and a sprinkling of petals from the flowering trees.
Someone must have been watching for them as the front door was open and a smiling lady stood on the front step.
‘Here she is, Mama.’ Michael shouted. ‘I nearly missed her.’
‘Not on the doorstep, dear.’ The lady held out her hands to Bea. ‘Welcome to London, Beatrice.’ She linked her arm with Bea’s and drew her inside. Michael followed, giving details of their journey. ‘Well done, Mickie,’ Lady Lessing said over her shoulder. ‘I will hear all about it later.’
The vestibule, it was too grand to be a mere hallway, took Bea’s breath away. She had to stop herself from gaping at the expanse of polished floor, gilded side tables, mirrors and flowers. Closed doors on either side gave no clue to their uses. A well-dressed man took Bea’s bonnet which he immediately passed on to a hovering maid. The maid beckoned to Dora and led her away into the interior of the house. Not to the wide staircase but down a side corridor. Bea watched her friend disappear with a deep sense of loss.
Her hostess led her towards the stairs. Michael had already bounded up the first flight, two steps at a time. The ladies followed more slowly allowing Bea to take in primrose walls and large portraits. A second flight turned at right angles to cross the rear of the hall allowing Bea to see the space from a different angle. She was almost at eye-level with an immense chandelier hung on a chain which drew her eyes up into a distant dome with windows to let in the light. Feeling totally bemused Bea hardly heard her hostess’s continued welcome. Suddenly aware that she was expected to respond, Bea muttered an apology. ‘No matter,’ her hostess replied. ‘I expect you would like time to freshen up. Your maid should be waiting for you and I will send someone to show you to the drawing room for tea when you are ready.’
Bea was gracefully transferred to another maid who appeared from nowhere. A wide corridor and more stairs led to a narrower passage with doors on either side. The maid threw open a door and ushered Bea inside.
The bedroom was prettily furnished in shades of pink and white and Dora was there, a solid and comforting reminder of home.
Bea sank into a chair. ‘Oh, Dora, what have I let us in for?’
‘A life of ease and comfort. A bit starchy but hot water was delivered without being asked for and your bag is in the dressing room.’
‘Freddie is here?’
Dora shrugged. ‘Somewhere. He would not have handed over your bag and just disappeared.’
Dora’s matter of fact attitude steadied Bea. ‘I have just been told, very nicely, to make myself presentable before being allowed in the drawing room.’
‘We had better get on with it then.’ Dora showed her the dressing room and helped her to change into a dress she had rescued from their abandoned trunks. It was also black but less wrinkled. While Bea did her own hair Dora asked, ‘What is the mistress like?’
‘Not at all like Michael. She has blonde hair and looks much too young to be his mother but is just as friendly.’ Bea giggled, ‘Fortunately she does not talk so much. She seems pleased to see me and said she was glad to meet me at last.’
There was a knock on the door. Dora went to answer it and allowed a young girl who resembled Lady Lessing to enter. ‘Hello. I am Lily, Michael’s youngest sister. Mama sent me to fetch you.’ Bea guessed she was around eleven or twelve years old with a friendly smile and the same buzz of vitality as her brother
‘How do you do? Michael said I would like you.’
Lily’s smile lit up her whole face. ‘Oh, good. Are you ready to go down? I am allowed to join you and there will be cake.’
Bea remembered reading that young girls were kept in the schoolroom. Being allowed to take tea in the drawing room was a treat.
‘I never knew about you until a few days ago,’ Lily confided as they made their way down some of the stairs.
‘I did not know about you, either. I understand you have two sisters?’
Lily nodded. ‘Rose is lovely but Violet is… Well, the season has gone to her head.’ Whatever that meant was not clear but they had reached the drawing room. Lady Lessing invited Bea to sit beside her on a velvet sofa.
Before she sat down Bea said, ‘Thank you for inviting me, Lady Lessing. It was quite unexpected.’
Mother and daughter both laughed. ‘I am not Lady Lessing. Just plain Mrs Hastings.’
‘Papa never held the title,’ Lily chipped in
‘It is rather complicated,’ Mrs Hastings said, ‘but it can wait until we have had our tea. Ah, here it is now.’
Two maids appeared through one of the panelled walls, carrying trays. While they arranged the silver tea service and china Bea had a chance to look around. The overall impression was of a scene frozen in time. The panelling, the shape of the windows and even the furniture bore the stamp of early Georgian architecture.
‘Grim isn’t it.’
Bea snapped her attention back to Mrs Hastings. It would be rude to agree but Mrs Hastings only laughed. ‘I have not yet had time to redecorate the whole house. We are only using this room in honour of your arrival.’
Bea was saved from making any reply as Lily stood up to pass Bea a cup of tea and a small plate. With both hands full Bea wondered what she was to do with either until a silent maid placed a small table at her side. Bea had barely set down her cup before Lily was back, wafting a selection of dainty cakes under her nose. ‘Please say you do not care for cream horns. They are my favourite.’
‘Lily!’ Mrs Hastings said sharply. ‘Whatever will Beatrice think of your manners?’ The words were censorious but Mrs Hastings was smiling. She turned to Bea. ‘We are all still learning how to behave as Society expects.’ Seeing Bea’s confusion, she added, ‘Don’t worry about it now. Drink your tea and please take the cream horn if you wish.’ Mother and daughter pulled faces at each other and Bea was instantly at ease.
Mrs Hastings was not a dragon. She knew how to correct her children but it was done gently. It was so reminiscent of her own Mama Bea wanted to cry.
But it also added to her confusion. Everything she saw and heard was contradicted a moment later. From the moment she met him, Michael had seemed an odd sort of Viscount. He had held the title for several years but the family did not know how to behave in the way Society expected. Bea had been afraid her own lack of Society experience would make her an embarrassment. Everything she knew came from books which were probably out of date. Her Mother’s advice had been to treat every individual, whether king or commoner, with respect and politeness.
Bea was not allowed to ponder the questions for long. Mrs Hastings had turned the conversation into casual enquiries about Bea’s journey and did she have everything she needed in her room.
Bea mentioned her lack of suitable clothing. She had only packed clothes suitable for settling into at a quiet cottage. Most of her dresses were black or dark grey as she had not bothered with fashion since her mother died. All her best clothes had been sent into storage with the furniture.
Bea put her cup down on the table. ‘Lady… ah, Mrs Hastings, it was very kind of you to invite me but you must not think I mean to impose.’
‘It is no imposition. I never met your parents but John was clearly my mother-in-law’s favourite. How much did Lady Leith tell you about the family?’
‘Very little. She only mentioned a past friendship.’ Bea smiled. ‘I was expecting a much older lady.’
Mrs Hastings nodded. ‘She was a close friend of my mother-in-law in their earlier years. I am glad she came to me. I have often wondered what my husband’s twin brother was like.’ Bea’s start of surprise drew an answering frown of enquiry.
‘I did not know Papa had a brother. When I was very young, I asked him if he had a family and he said ‘not now’. I assumed they were all dead and that was what made him too sad to talk about them.’
‘It is sad. It has taken a tragedy to bring you back to us.’
‘What did Lady Leith tell you about me?’
Mrs Hastings glanced quickly at her avidly listening daughter. ‘Just that she met you by chance when your situation had suddenly changed.’
Bea breathed a sigh of relief. Mrs Hastings knew more than she was willing to say in front of her daughter. How much more would have to wait until they could talk privately.
Mrs Hastings changed the subject. ‘Did Mickie tell you he has three sisters?’
Before Bea could reply, Lily said, ‘I told her about Violet and Rose.’ She bit her lips and looked at her Mama before adding, ‘Just their names.’
Another mystery. Michael had barely mention Rose apart from saying she was married and lived in Bristol.
The tense moment passed when there came the sound of approaching footsteps. ‘That must be Violet returning from her visit,’ Mrs Hastings said quickly. Lily groaned.
The door burst open and a very pretty girl rushed half way across the room before she noticed Bea. ‘You have arrived then.’
Mrs Hastings stood up. ‘Violet, come and meet your cousin Beatrice.’ Her voice was calm but it held a strong reprimand.
They exchanged conventional greetings, cool on Violet’s side and puzzled on Bea’s.
Violet had her mother’s beautiful features but her hair was more golden and dressed into ringlets that bounced as she moved. She was wearing a smart ensemble of jade green which echoed the colour of her eyes. Eyes that surveyed Bea with hostility and contempt.
‘I was about to explain to Beatrice that I would have to leave her alone this evening while we attend Lady Sheen’s soiree.’
Violet gave Bea another raking glance. ‘Well, you can hardly take her……. uninvited.’ The last was an accusation. Violet plainly thought Bea unworthy of mixing with her betters.
‘That was rude!’ Lily said. Mrs Hastings raised a hand to silence her and turned back to Bea. ‘It is a prearranged appointment. As your luggage has not arrived, we will not change for dinner.’
‘May I come down too,’ Lily asked eagerly. Two ‘No’s’, one a parental decision, the other and expression of horror, made Lily pout but she did not argue.
Mrs Hastings continued. ‘When we are alone, I prefer to use the morning room. The formal dining room still intimidates me.’ Bea doubted anything – or anyone – was capable of intimidating her hostess. Small she might be but she was definitely in control.
‘Well, I hope dinner is early. I need time to dress.’ The combined emphasis on ‘I’ and another look at Bea spoke volumes.
‘Then you may go and make your initial preparations now,’ Mrs Hastings tone made it sound like a dismissal. Violet flushed and flounced towards the door. As she passed Lily’s chair, she found another target. ‘What are you doing here? Get back to the schoolroom where you belong.’
‘Violet!’ This time Mrs Hastings did not try to hide her anger.
Lily smirked and was told, more quietly, ‘Run along now. You will have time to get to know Beatrice later.’
The girls left the room. Bea could hear them arguing even through the closed door.
Mrs Hastings sat down again. ‘I am sorry about that.’
‘My Papa said you cannot take responsibility for other people’s actions.’
‘That is generous of you. I do not know what has got into Violet lately. It is not the way she has been brought up. They really do love each other but sisters do bicker. You have been spared that, at least.’
‘I would have liked a sister or brother. Michael and Lily already feel like family.’
‘Of course, they do. You are closely related but still have much to catch up on.’
That brought Bea back to a previous question. ‘What did Lady Leith really tell you about me?’
Mrs Hastings moved to a chair closer to Bea and took hold of her hand. ‘A great deal that I have not and will not mention to another soul. I never met the man I refuse to name but my mother-in-law always spoke fondly of him and would be appalled at his behaviour.’
‘Then that makes it even kinder of you to invite me into your family.’ Bea was close to tears.
‘It is your family by blood, my connection is only through marriage. We have very little time at the moment but I will give you a few facts. My late husband was your father’s twin brother. Mickie inherited the title from his great grandfather, all the intervening males having died. You have two great aunts and some other cousins but they rarely visit Lessing or come to town. I am sorry I have to leave you alone this evening as you must have lots of questions.’ She took Bea’s nod as agreement and went on. ‘There is a family tree in the library you can study.’ She laughed, ‘That should really make you feel at home.’
Mrs Hastings showed Bea the library before they went to their own rooms.
Dora was waiting for Bea and looking rather worried. ‘I went to find Freddie to warn him not to chatter. But, as he does not know the whole truth, he had already mentioned that you were recently widowed. The servants are curious, of course, but I think they are loyal. They are also guarding some secret.’
