Once and for Always, page 6
‘I gained the same impression.’
‘That does not concern us. Your cat is out of the bag and we need to stop it running wild.’
The disastrous affair was never far from Bea’s mind. She had already decided to keep her visit as short as possible and then disappear again.
‘Mrs Hastings is so kind but I do not know exactly how she has explained my sudden appearance. Oh, I ought not to have come here. We will have to leave tomorrow.’
A light tap on the door and Mrs Hastings slipped inside. ‘We will have to be quick but we need to align our stories.’
‘I will leave.’
‘No, that will cause too much comment. This is what I propose.’
Mrs Hastings was a quick thinker. She had made Bea’s arrival sound like a big surprise. All anyone else knew was that Bea had been in danger of losing her home. Now word of her marriage had slipped out they had to come up with a plausible reason.
‘I suggest we let it be known that you are a recent widow but your marriage was so unhappy you cannot talk about it and wish to be known by your maiden name. It means I cannot take you about just yet but we will not hide you away.’
‘Mrs Hastings, I do not know how to thank you.’
‘There is no need. You are innocent. You have been treated abominably and I will not see you suffer for it.’
Bea tried to thank her again and was stopped with a spontaneous hug. ‘And I think we can dispense with the Mrs Hastings. You must call me Jane.’
The dinner gong prevented them from saying more. Jane waited while Bea wiped away her tears and then escorted her down to dinner.
Dinner was not the ordeal Bea had expected. I was just the three ladies as Michael had gone out. Jane and Bea’s natural good manners glossed over Violet’s rudeness by allowing the girl to do most of the talking. Violet bragged about her social success, her clothes and planned activities. She was not actually rude, just disdainful. Bea knew she was poorly dressed but that had been explained by her lack of luggage. It was Violet’s condescending manner that really annoyed Bea.
Bea thought it a pity they could not be friends. She had taken to the rest of the family on first meeting. Violet was a younger version of her beautiful Mama but her expression was often spoilt by her petulance. From various comments Bea thought this was not her usual behaviour. Something was worrying Violet and Bea wondered if it was at the root of the caution Dora had detected in the servants.
Bea tried a tentative approach by admiring Violet’s elegant clothes and saying she would seek Violet’s advice when she came out of mourning. A few more details were enough to send Violet off with enough gossip to make her the centre of attention at the party.
Chapter 7
Bea spent the rest of the evening in the library. It was as sombre as the drawing room with pride of place given to a large portrait the seventh Viscount Lessing. He wore a powdered wig so Bea could not see his natural hair colour but he had the same shaped face and features as her father. Only the eyes were different, dark and assessing and seemed to follow her when she moved. Bea turned her back on him and went to examine the illuminated family tree. It was impressive with gold frame, scrolling and a coat of arms. Bea frowned as she searched for her own name but it was not there. Her father was only mentioned by his date of birth.
What had happened for him to be cut off so completely? She found a pencil and some paper and sketched out a few details as she would never remember all the names.
The tree began with George, the Seventh Viscount born in 1765, married to Maria Colt in 1787 and died in 1859. Two sons had predeceased their father, the eldest without issue. The second son also had two sons, Albert and John with the same date of birth in 1819. Albert had died two years before his father. Albert was Michael’s father.
There were also several female children along the line but they were ignored after the date of their marriages.
Bea kept going back to her father’s name. From what she could remember, her Papa had been unhappy about not having a family. She could not believe he had done anything to deserve being cut off. Which raised the question – Had He cut them out of his life? She would have to wait until she could ask Jane.
It was getting late and Bea had no idea what time the others would return. She roamed the shelves hoping the touch and smell of the books would restore some semblance of her former, peaceful life. Bea laughed at her stupid wish and went to up bed.
‘There was no need for you to wait up,’ Bea told Dora when she entered her bedroom. Dora got up from her seat and made Bea a mock curtsey. ‘I have been instructed on how a lady’s maid should behave.’
Servants’ dinner had supplied Dora with a lot of useful knowledge and some very impertinent comments.
‘Parker, Miss Violet’s maid, who likes to be referred to as a dresser, threw up her hands in horror when I forgot to call you Miss Hastings - ‘‘Or should that be Mrs Something?’’ she dared to add. The butler rapped on the table and frowned at her.’
Dora approved of Sampson, the butler. Mrs Duncan, the housekeeper had been with Mrs Hastings for many years when they lived in the country. She had assigned Daisy, a very young maid, to wait on them. ‘What do you think of that? A lady’s maid does not carry up the hot water or empty the slops. But I think she has been set up as a spy.’
‘Surely not!’
‘It is what I would do if a mysterious, long-lost member of a family suddenly put in an appearance. A more experienced girl would ask leading questions, putting us on our guard. Daisy is so pumped up at the promotion she will disarm us and report back, also out of ignorance.’
That sat uncomfortably with Bea. An incautious word from either of them could expose the whole family to scandal. ‘We have to leave,’ Bea said again. ‘Perhaps not tomorrow but very soon. Jane has been so kind I will not risk harming her, or her children.’
Dora grinned. ‘Every plan can backfire. Daisy, by her very nervousness at any mention of the family, confirms that the Hastings are teetering on the brink of their own scandal.’
‘Oh, I want to go home,’ Bea wailed and then swallowed a sob. ‘But the cottage will be the next best thing.’
POSSIBLE CHAPTER BREAK HERE
The next morning Dora informed Bea that the ladies of the house took breakfast in bed. Lily had hers in the schoolroom and the Viscount rode out early and ate later. She had already ordered Bea’s usual breakfast which Daisy would bring up soon.
‘I am not ill. I will get up and dress now.’
Daisy brought up her breakfast and Dora went back downstairs with her. Eating breakfast did not take long and Bea wondered what to do next. Boredom was a new experience as she was not used to being idle. The last few days had been tiring because she had spent them travelling or sitting around talking. She needed exercise. Her bedroom overlooked a strip of garden that continued around the other side of the house. She longed to explore but it was raining. It would not normally have deterred her but she thought walking in the rain was something else ladies were not expected to do.
She took out one of the novels she had kept back from the book sales and tried to read. But it did not hold her attention. She already knew the story having read The Pickwick Papers when it was published in instalments. She closed the book and took out the sketch she had made of the family tree as though studying it again would answer all the questions buzzing around in her head. Bea tucked it into her pocket and decided to go back to the library for another look at the original. Not expecting the room to be occupied at this early hour, Bea walked in without knocking. Three startled faces turned in her direction and the three men got to their feet.
‘Bea!’ Michael cried out joyfully and rushed forward to take her hand.
A discreet cough remined him of his manners and he introduced Bea to Lord Ashley and Mr Soames, two of his former guardians. They were both elderly and looked none too pleased by the intrusion. Bea started to back away with apologies but Michael said, ‘You were left alone last evening I hear. Let me show you around.’
The men and Bea all protested with varying degrees of politeness but Michael said he would see his visitors later and ushered Bea from the room. ‘Escape,’ he said gleefully when the door was closed. ‘What would you like to do first?’
Michael’s freedom was short lived. They were only half way across the front hall when they saw Jane coming towards them.
‘Mickie? I thought you were seeing Lord Ashley and Mr Soames this morning.’
Michael muttered something under his breath. ‘Good morning, Mama. ‘I was just…..’
‘Absconding,’ Jane finished for him. ‘Michael Hastings, the gentlemen have given up a great deal of time on your behalf. I will take care of Beatrice so you can re-join them.’
Red to the tips of his ears, Michael murmured an apology and returned to the library.
From something Michael had said during one of his ramblings, Bea knew he had been kept from any involvement in his affairs until he reached his majority. He had complained about now being expected to learn so much about his inheritance it made his head ache. Bea thought the gentlemen’s time would have been better spent in short periods over a number of years.
Jane shook her head. ‘I keep forgetting he is of age.’
‘It must be difficult for Michael, too. He did mention being denied any involvement until now.’
‘A mistake I argued with more than once. I was told, firmly but politely, not to interfere.’
As they talked, Jane had led Bea to the morning room. It overlooked another aspect of the garden which looked inviting even in the rain.
‘This is my favourite room,’ Jane said and Bea could understand why. It faced east and would be delightful on a sunny morning. Even now it was light and feminine and furnished with pieces more in tune with Jane’s personality. They made themselves comfortable and Jane said, ‘I can see you are bursting with questions. Where do you want to start?’
Bea took out her sketch of the family tree. She wanted to ask about her father but thought she would get some background knowledge first.
‘The Seventh Viscount was very old when he died.’
‘Ninety-four and in total control until the moment he died.’
The more Bea heard about her great-grand-father the less she liked him. He had been autocratic and secretive. His business affairs were dealt with by a number of different secretaries and lawyers so no one person knew the extent of his holdings until he died. But he was not mean with money. His sons were educated at the best schools and then given a generous allowance and encouraged to spend their lives in selfish pleasure. His daughters were given large dowries and married off at a young age.
‘The trustees were only carrying out their last instructions,’ Jane said. ‘In fairness, it did take them a long time to unravel and understand everything themselves.’
‘I don’t think I would have liked him,’ Bea said.
Jane laughed. ‘I don’t think anyone did. I don’t think he liked anyone either, He just enjoyed having everyone on a string. When we were all called to an assembly,’ Jane shook her head. ‘I cannot think of any other way to describe it. It was not a celebration. In fact a summons could arrive at any time. As I was saying, when we all assembled, he looked us over, made a few comments and then sent us away again.’
‘He sounds very odd,’ Bea remarked.
Jane agreed. ‘He was a contemporary of old George the Third and he was very eccentric too.’
Their discussion paused while they were served coffee and tiny biscuits. Jane might say she was unfamiliar with society manners but she was very adept at separating serious matters from refreshment. She talked about the weather and her plans for the garden. They compared books they had read and favourite foods. It was all very civilised.
The coffee tray was removed and Bea launched in with the topic she most wanted to discuss. ‘How much do you know about my Papa?’
‘Only what I have been told by my Mother-in-law, a lovely lady and the male members of the family. Opinions differ. I will have to go back to set the scene.’
Mrs Hastings senior had been married at an early age to a man she did not know and later came to despise for his hedonistic lifestyle. She had tried to raise her sons in a different mould but Albert, Jane’s husband took after his grandfather. ‘Ours was not a happy marriage,’ Jane said sadly. Albert had taken Holy Orders, as it was an appropriate occupation for a member of the junior branch of the family but left his parish in the care of a curate, his wife and children on a small country estate and proceeded to drink himself to death.
‘It is not a pretty story, is it?’ Jane asked when she finished that episode. ‘I have never disparaged my husband to the children but Mickie heard things at school and there are some people in society who like nothing better than to see others humiliated.’
‘My Papa was not like that,’ Bea insisted.
Jane touched her hand. ‘I know and that is the root of the problem.’
Bea listened, alternately sickened and proud. John Hastings had also studied for the priesthood but he was shy, was inclined to stammer and dreaded being in the public eye. He had refused to become a priest and found work for himself as secretary to a politician.
‘My maternal grandfather,’ Bea confirmed. ‘Mama told me how they met and married.’
Jane nodded. ‘I am afraid the next bit might upset you.’
Bea prepared for the worst. ‘The old Viscount might have let the career change pass but John compounded his offence by marrying without his grandfather’s consent.’ Jane squeezed Bea’s hand. ‘Oh, my dear, your mother’s disability was the final straw.’
‘That is why Papa was banished? Because he married the lady he loved so much he faded away after she died?’
‘It was not quite like that. The Viscount did not disinherit John. He refused to acknowledge your mother and forbade John to bring her into society. My husband agreed with the decision. John chose to take his wife away from insult and cut himself off from his family. I am afraid that is a very diluted account.’
What Jane had said about differing opinions was now clear. Her grandmother had called John her favourite. The male contingent had seen John as weak because he was shy. An embarrassment because he stuttered, not that Bea had ever heard him do so but he did get flustered. And stupid for marrying a cripple.
‘What arrogance! What right did they have to condemn Mama without getting to know what a brave and wonderful person she was!’ Bea’s tears were more from anger. ‘Oh, I wish they were not dead! I would have something to say to them!’
Jane was equally crying and laughing with her. ‘I do believe you would! I wish I had known about you earlier. And Your parents.’
‘My Mama was not a cripple,’ Bea continued indignantly. ‘The weakness in her left side did not prevent her from living a full and useful life. I never realised how strong my Papa was to stand up to that, that Tyrant! And neither of them ever said a word about how they had been treated. I am so proud of them.’ Bea started to cry again. But they were healing tears. Love and courage had conquered spite.
Jane gathered the weeping girl into her arms until she was called away to deal with a domestic crisis.
Left alone, Bea mulled over what is had heard. It explained so much. Her father’s sadness at, presumable, being denied access to his mother. Her mother’s occasional comments about being a perfect lady when Bea had done something wrong. She had done everything she could to prepare Bea for her rightful place in society and at the same time ensured she had the knowledge and financial support to live an independent life.
Bea remembered that Jane had also suffered from the Hastings’ biased attitude. She had been pushed aside while her husband enjoyed himself. No wonder she did not feel she was prepared to face Society.
Bea frowned. Jane was prepared. She was strong enough to take Bea in despite the threatened scandal. And again, there was something in the present Hastings family that was not talked about.
Bea could not place a double burden on her new friend’s shoulders. She would leave before anything leaked out. And it would eventually. No secret was secure if it was known to more than one person.
Bea dried her tears and wandered over to the long window. It reached almost to the floor with sashes that could be raised to allow one to step outside. The rain had stopped and weak sunlight sparkled on the wet grass. Bea thought whimsically that her storm of tears had even emptied the clouds. It was the sort of thing her father would have said. Instead of sadness, the thought of her Papa filled her with courage. She would not shame his memory by feeling sorry for herself.
Bea was reaching up to unlock the window when the door opened behind her. She turned with a smile, ready to assure Jane that she had recovered her spirits. But it was Violet. She was wearing a loose afternoon dress of printed cotton which should have looked casual but Violet’s poise made it seem fit for a ball.
Violet stayed in the doorway and looked around the room. ‘Oh, I thought Mama was in here.’
‘Jane had to go to see the housekeeper.’
Violet eyed Bea’s red nose and puffy eyelids with distaste. ‘You had better go and do something with your face before luncheon.’ Violet’s words had more than one meaning. She did not need to actually say that Bea looked a mess and implied that whatever was done to her face it would still fall short. She turned to leave saying over her shoulder, ‘Your trunks have arrived. I hope you have something less depressing than dreary black.’
Another inuendo! Violet did not expect any of Bea’s clothes to be worth looking at. It was true but Bea was not going to dismissed so abruptly. ‘Thank you,’ she called to the girl’s retreating back. ‘One never wants to wear the same dress two days running.’ The hitch in Violet’s step told Bea her shot had found its target. Naughty! Bea’s inner voice whispered but she was smiling as she went up to change.
