Читать книгу A Magical Moment - Барбара Картленд - Страница 2

“Oh, no, Papa, you cannot mean it!” Lady Lencia Leigh exclaimed.

“You promised, you promised!” her younger sister Alice cried. “How can you change your mind now at the very last minute?”

“I am very sorry, girls,” their father, the Earl of Armeron, replied, “but your stepmother has set her heart on going to Sweden and a Prince does not celebrate his seventieth birthday very often.”

He tried to make it a joke, but both his daughters were looking at him reproachfully.

They were thinking that ever since he had been married for the second time, the Earl had changed.

He was no longer the fond loving father that he had been before and was now someone who seemed to them almost a stranger.

When the Earl’s wife had died a year ago, he had sunk into the depths of despair from which, it seemed, no one would ever be able to arouse him.

It was his good friend, the Marquis of Salisbury, who had suggested that he should go with him for a holiday in France.

The Marquis had recently built himself a very large and impressive Villa near Nice in the South of France and he had said to the Earl that he wanted his expert advice in planning the garden.

Looking back at what had occurred, his daughters realised that it had been the first step towards a tragedy.

They had never for one moment ever imagined that their father would marry again.

He had adored their mother as they all had and the whole family had been very close and extremely happy together.

It had always been a disappointment to the Earl that he had no son and therefore no direct heir to inherit his title.

But he had been extremely proud of his eldest daughter, Lencia.

She closely resembled her mother, who had been an outstanding beauty.

So great was the resemblance that at first, after his wife’s death, the Earl had been almost reluctant to look at Lencia.

She had the same fair hair, the same sparkling blue eyes and the same exquisite pink and white complexion.

But Lencia also had a kind of spiritual aura about her, which made her different from all the other girls of her age.

She was also very intelligent, but that was not at all surprising considering how clever her father was.

Besides this she had a marked personality of her own that unfortunately her stepmother, the new Countess, had noticed from the moment she first stepped into Armeron Castle.

The Earl had been away from home for six weeks and they were excitedly awaiting his return and Lencia had actually received a letter from him the day before he was due to arrive.

“A letter from Papa!” she had exclaimed when the butler brought it to her.

“I hope he has not changed his mind at the last moment,” Alice said, “and intends to stay on longer in the South of France.”

“Papa must realise that there is such a lot to do here,” Lencia assured her.

She opened the envelope as she spoke.

Taking out her father’s letter, she read a little of it before she cried out,

“It cannot be true!”

“What has happened?” Alice asked at once.

Lencia looked at the letter again before she said in a voice that did not sound at all like her own,

“Papa has – married again.”

“I don’t believe it!” Alice declared.

But it was true.

And when the new Countess arrived, everything was changed.

The girls had waited for her apprehensively.

When their father appeared with his new wife clinging onto his arm, it was impossible for either of them to run towards him eagerly as they had always done in the past.

Madame Flaubert was characteristic of the exotic chic French woman. She might almost have stepped straight out of a novelette.

She was not beautiful in any way, but good-looking and she made the most of her looks.

She was amusing and witty and almost every word she spoke seemed to have a double entendre.

She flattered the Earl not only in words but with her eyes, her mouth and her hands.

Lencia realised that her father was fascinated by her because she was so different from the wife he had loved and lost.

Madame Flaubert had gone to visit Nice looking for a man to escort her.

The meeting with the Earl was a dream come true.

She had always hoped to marry again, but the Frenchmen who paid her compliments and laughed at everything she said did not offer her marriage.

She saw the Earl, morose and depressed, but at the same time still a very handsome man.

A rich Englishman with an impressive title!

She felt that the gates of opportunity were opening up in front of her.

She had never in her life worked so hard at presenting herself as she did after meeting the Earl.

By shameless wheedling she managed to get herself invited by the Marquis to stay in his Villa.

Her sob story was that she had been unable to get into the hotel where she always stayed and that the noise in the hotel she had been forced to go to was intolerable and the discomfort indescribable would have appealed to any kind man’s heart.

The Marquis was in fact finding the Earl somewhat heavy on the hand.

Therefore he invited Madame Flaubert and another friend who he had known for years to move from where they were staying into his Villa.

From that moment, although he was not aware of it, there was no escape for the Earl.

Madame Flaubert paid him subtle compliments until he relaxed and smiled.

And then she set herself out to amuse him until he laughed.

He could not help feeling flattered when she told him how much she loved him.

He was, in point of fact, not quite certain how he found himself being married officially at the Mairie.

As their religions were different, they then dispensed with the usual Marriage Service to follow in a Church.

They were nevertheless legally married.

Madame Flaubert had a new gold Wedding ring on her left hand to prove it.

The Earl was not the only person who had told her all about the beauty and importance of Armeron Castle.

The Marquis, who had stayed there often, described it as one of the finest examples of medieval building in the whole country.

The gardens, which had been created by the last Earl, were to his mind, he claimed, finer than any other garden he had ever seen.

The congratulations the new Countess of Armeron had received did not however prepare her for the first sight of her elder stepdaughter.

She had expected that both the girls would be pretty.

“How could they be anything else?” she had asked the Earl. “When you, dearest, are so handsome that I know every woman’s heart turns over when she looks at you.”

“You flatter me,” the Earl insisted, but he was quite prepared to listen to more.

The new wife, however, had a severe shock when she had walked into the drawing room where Lencia and Alice were waiting to meet her.

They felt shy and, although they tried so hard not to admit it, somewhat hostile towards their stepmother before her arrival.

They were not waiting for them in the hall, where the Earl had expected to find them.

Instead they were standing in the beautiful room that had always seemed to be the perfect background for their beloved mother.

The blue curtains and coverings on the chairs and sofas had echoed her eyes, whilst the glittering crystal chandeliers had the same sparkle that shone in her eyes whenever she saw someone she loved.

The Earl would have walked into the room first.

But his wife put her arm in his so that they came in side-by-side.

Just for a moment there was complete silence.

“Here we are, girls,” the Earl began, “and I have been so looking forward to seeing you both.”

With an effort Lencia moved forward.

It was then that her stepmother drew in her breath.

This was certainly a rival who she had not expected, a girl very young and so lovely that it was impossible even for a woman not to stare at her and go on staring.

Lencia kissed her father and he kissed her back.

“We have been longing to have you home, Papa,” she said.

As she spoke, she could not help looking with some surprise on her face at the woman holding tightly to his arm.

The Countess had clearly dressed herself to impress.

She was wearing a hat trimmed with ostrich feathers and their colour was echoed by the ruby earrings that dangled from her ears. There was a ruby brooch pinned to the shoulder of her black satin cape.

She was certainly elegant, but at the same time there was something theatrical about her.

Lencia knew instinctively that she was just incongruous in her mother’s drawing room and indeed in The Castle itself.

“Now you must meet my daughters,” the Earl was saying to his new wife.

“Yvonne, this is Lencia, who, as I have told you, should have been presented in Court last year, but will instead curtsey to Queen Victoria next month.”

Neither of the women spoke and the Earl went on quickly,

“And this is Alice, who is just seventeen, but I expect she will want to join in some of the Festivities that her sister is invited to.”

“They are much older than I had expected,” the Countess said. “I thought, dearest, seeing how young you look, your daughters would still be in the nursery.”

This was obviously the sort of flattery the Earl had listened to and found so enjoyable in Nice.

Somehow it seemed more than a little out of place at this particular moment.

“I am sure, Papa,” Lencia said, “that you are longing for your tea. It is all ready for you.”

She moved towards the fireplace as she spoke and the Earl and his new wife followed her.

The tea was laid out as it always had been in front of the sofa.

There was the traditional shining silver teapot and kettle and also the Queen Anne tea caddy in which the very first tea from Ceylon had been served in The Castle.

There was also an imposing display of warm scones, cucumber sandwiches, fruit cakes and iced cakes and several other dainties for which the Armeron kitchens were justly famous.

As they reached the table with its long lace-edged cloth, Lencia turned to the Countess,

“Will you pour it or would you like me to do so?”

It was a question that the Countess recognised immediately as significant.

With hardly a pause she replied,

“Of course I will do it. I know exactly how your dear handsome father likes his tea,”

She swept with a rustle of silk petticoats and a whiff of exotic perfume to sit in the centre of the sofa, facing the silver tray.

It was where their mother had always sat and it was at that moment Lencia knew how much she resented the intruder, a woman who she was certain could never take her mother’s place in The Castle or anywhere else.

At the same time, as the afternoon and evening passed, she had to admit that her father was in far better spirits than when he had gone away.

He was certainly finding his new wife most amusing and entertaining.

Only when they had gone upstairs to go to bed did Alice say in a whisper,

“How could he have brought anyone like that to take Mama’s place?”

“She makes him laugh,” Lencia had answered. “But – ”

She bit back the words that she was going to say. What was the point of fighting against the inevitable?

Their father, whom they loved and who had been so very much a part of their lives, had somehow left them.

“We have lost not only our mother but also our father,” Lencia said to herself bitterly as she climbed into bed.

In the days that followed she was to think the same again and again.

The new Countess was determined not to be ignored and she intended to assert herself in what she thought was her rightful position from the moment she arrived.

She gave orders to the servants in a sharp voice, but to the Earl she was all honey and sweetness.

She flattered him not only in words but by seeming to watch over and tend him.

She would fetch his cigar case almost before he wanted it and she would pat the cushion before he sat down in the chair. She was at his side almost every moment of the day.

There was no doubt, Lencia had to admit to herself, that he seemed younger in years.

Yet she felt rather embarrassed at the blatant way that her stepmother flattered her father and flirted with him quite openly regardless of who was present in The Castle.

Alice watched them wide-eyed as if it was a performance and she was the audience.

Because to Lencia her stepmother’s behaviour seemed so vulgar, whenever she could she kept away from her father and his new wife.

The girls had planned with their father, before he went to Nice, that he would take them to France before the Season in London started.

Alice had been reading about the Castles of the Loire Valley.

The Earl knew them well and had promised to take the girls to see Château Chaumont, which was the largest and the most impressive of all the Castles in that part of France.

They had both been looking forward to the trip to France wildly.

To Alice it was particularly exciting because she had just grown old enough to read some of the great love stories of the world.

One which had captured her imagination more than any other had been the story of the famous beauty Diane de Poitiers.

She was loved to distraction by King Henry II of France even though she was eighteen years older than he was.

Alice was determined to see where Diane’s monogram was carved on the parapet wall of Chaumont which she had restored.

“It is the letter ‘D’,” she said excitedly, “surrounded by attributes of the Goddess after whom she was named.”

“You shall see it all, my dearest,” the Earl had said, “and I promise that you will not be disappointed. I have seen a great many French Castles and Châteaux, but of them all I think that Chaumont is the most exciting and certainly the most impressive.”

He sighed.

“I wish I could have stayed there when King François enjoyed the marvellous hunting available in what was then a deserted area.”

The girls were listening intently and he went on,

“He had the old Hunting Lodge razed to the ground and began the construction of this sumptuous Palace, which will thrill you as it thrilled me when I first saw it as a boy.”

It was the first time that her father had seemed to be enthusiastic about anything since her mother’s death.

They had therefore made him plan the date they should go and how long they should stay.

“We must see heaps of other Castles too while we are there,” Alice suggested eagerly.

“I can see I shall have to read up my history,” her father said, “but we will certainly see all we can. I shall expect you both to speak perfect French by the time we return.”

“We will try, Papa, we really will try very hard,” Alice had promised.

As Lencia knew that she would, for the next month Alice talked of very little except their intended visit to France.

She sought out in the extensive library at Armeron all the books that mentioned the Loire Valley.

She had put them ready to be packed with their luggage when they set off to Château Chaumont on what to her was a pilgrimage.

Now two weeks after the Earl had returned home he was telling them that the visit would have to be postponed.

“We will go another time,” he said vaguely, “I promise you.”

But Alice protested volubly.

“You know, Papa, that, once we go to London and Lencia is presented, there will be too many other engagements for us to get away. And there will be Ascot and finally Goodwood, where you will be running your horses.”

Her voice rose as she cried,

“Oh, Papa, how can you fail us now when everything was fixed and planned?”

“I am sorry, my dear,” the Earl said, “but 1 promise you I will find another time when it is possible for me to leave England.”

The way he spoke told Lencia only too clearly that it was unlikely that their stepmother would be willing to leave during the London Season.

She was also convinced that she would not allow her husband to go off travelling with his two daughters without her.

“That reminds me,” the Earl said unexpectedly. “I am afraid, Lencia, my dearest, we will have to change the Drawing Room when you are to be presented to the Queen.”

Lencia stared at him.

“Why, Papa?”

“Because, my dearest, I am sure that you will understand that I must first present your stepmother on our marriage. She thinks it would be a mistake for you to be presented at the same time.”

Lencia drew in her breath.

It had been planned that she should be presented last year just before she was eighteen.

Then, when the Countess died, they had been in deep mourning.

The presenting to the Queen obviously had to be postponed until the first Drawing Room the following year, which would take place at the beginning of May.

Her father had gone to see the Lord Chamberlain and everything had been arranged.

He was opening Armeron House in Park Lane and because her mother could not present Lencia, the Earl’s elder sister, who was a Lady of the Bedchamber, had volunteered to do so.

It had never occurred to Lencia for one moment that, having missed her presentation last May, she would be asked to postpone it for a second time.

She knew the procedure on those occasions quite well and said,

“But if you, Papa, can present Stepmama, why in her turn, as I know has been often done before, can she not present me?”

There was a short silence before the Earl answered,

“I did suggest that, but your stepmother says, my dear, that it makes her feel old, when she is still so young, to be chaperoning a girl of your age.”

Lencia knew quite well that this was not the reason.

What her stepmother was afraid of was that she would outshine her.

Because Lencia was very unselfconscious, she thought that the idea was quite absurd, yet because she was a woman she understood.

In point of fact the new Countess had been evasive about her age and she and Alice had soon realised that it was not a subject that should be discussed.

“Very well, Papa,” Lencia said, “if it must be changed, then it must.”

“I am sure that there will be no difficulties,” the Earl said. “The Lord Chamberlain will understand and there will be several more Drawing Rooms, the last I believe is taking place in June.”

“Supposing they are all full up?” Alice asked him unexpectedly.

“I cannot believe that I shall be refused a place for my daughter,” the Earl asserted.

He spoke in a manner that his children jokingly called his ‘Armeron air’.

It was something that happened only occasionally because the Earl was in fact a friendly and easy-going man.

But if his pride was hurt or he was insulted in some way, then his family background, which was a very distinguished one, would come to the surface and his Armeron voice would pulverise the person who had offended him.

“It would be dreadful,” Alice said, “if poor Lencia has to miss being presented at Court, just as I am very sorry for myself in not being able to see the glories of Château Chaumont.”

“You will see it, of course, you will see it,” the Earl said. ‘It is just that your stepmother has set her heart on going to Sweden and it would be very unkind of me if I refused her.”

“I expect really she wants to wear the Armeron tiara and associate with all those Princes and Princesses,” Alice said. “And I would not suppose that she knew people like that before she married you, Papa.”

It was only Alice, Lencia thought, who would put thoughts like that into actual words.

Because it was something that was undeniably true, the Earl had looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and said,

“It is time we were all getting dressed for dinner. You know I dislike having to wait for my meals.”

He walked out of the room as he spoke and the two girls were left alone.

“It is not fair!” Alice raged. “Our stepmother is determined that he should not go away with us. When I was talking about the beauty of the Castles, she said, ‘they are not really very interesting, most of them are empty’. Fancy her feeling like that!”

Alice’s voice was very scathing.

Lencia well knew that their stepmother, as the Countess of Armeron, wanted to share in the smart Society world of London and she was not the least interested in anything that had happened in the past.

“It is no use, Alice,” Lencia replied. “If we cannot go, then we cannot go. We shall just have to stay here and wait for them to come back.”

“When they do, I bet that she will find some way to prevent you and me going to London with her and Papa,” Alice complained.

She thought for a few moments and then went on,

“She wants him to herself and to give big dinner parties at Armeron House. She will say that I am too young to attend them and that debutantes and their parties are a terrible bore.”

“Oh, Alice, you cannot be sure she will say that,” Lencia protested.

“She most surely will, because I have heard her saying it already,” Alice pointed out. “She was talking to that lady’s maid of hers when I passed by the door. They were speaking in French, thinking no one would understand. But I heard Stepmama say, ‘debutantes are a bore and the people I want to meet are to be found in London. So the sooner we get there, the better’.”

Lencia knew quite well what her stepmother was talking about.

There had already been some controversy about the ball that her father would give for her that had been postponed from the previous year.

The discussion, when her mother was still alive, was whether they should have the ball in London or in the country.

It had finally been decided that it would be nice for Lencia to meet girls of her own age.

They would give a large ball in London and later several smaller dances in the country.

Now Lencia guessed that those plans were to be put on one side.

Of course her stepmother was bored with debutantes.

She could easily understand that.

Equally she felt that she and Alice were being pushed aside by a strong and determined hand.

Soon they would find themselves moving out of their father’s life altogether.

‘I am exaggerating everything, of course, I am,’ Lencia told herself severely.

At the same time she was honest enough to know that her stepmother disliked her and found both her and Alice an encumbrance.

She was continually talking of the things that they would do in London when her father opened the house, as he intended to do at the end of the month.

It was most unfortunate, Lencia thought now, that two or three days ago the Swedish Ambassador had called at Armeron.

A neighbour he was staying with had brought him to see The Castle because it was an outstanding architectural feature of the County and a notable beauty spot.

The new Countess had made a great fuss over the Ambassador.

In fact, when they were walking in the garden, Lencia could now remember that she took him on one side.

Ostensibly it was to show him the fountain, but they were talking earnestly in French and she had wondered then what it could be about.

She knew now that her stepmother had managed to get the Earl and herself invited to the Festivities that were to take place in Sweden on the Prince’s birthday.

‘She is so clever with men,’ Lencia thought. ‘She twists Papa round her little finger and now she has done the same with the Ambassador. She always gets her own way. It is Alice and I who are going to suffer.’

They were certainly ignored for the next few days.

The Countess was in a flutter as to what she should wear in Sweden and which of the magnificent collection of Armeron jewels she should take with her.

She had them all brought up from the safes to her bedroom and sat trying on the tiaras one after another.

There was the diamond set, the emerald set and then the sapphire set and there was the pretty turquoise and pearl set too that Lencia remembered her mother wearing and looking just like a Fairy Queen.

It was a relief when her stepmother put it to one side and sniffed,

“I don’t like myself in blue.”

She did, however, hesitate over the sapphires.

They were a quite amazing collection that had originally been brought to England from Brazil.

When she put them on, the Countess decided that they made her look old.

“Non, non,” she said, waving them away. “I want to sparkle and those purple eyes would haunt me!”

Finally everything was decided.

The Earl was rather surprised at the number of trunks that they were taking with them and the vast supply of hat boxes.

But he agreed with his new wife that they must do England proud.

There were not many English going to Sweden because it was so near to the beginning of the London Season.

“That, dearest, is just why they want you,” the Countess told the Earl. “And who could represent the Crown and the Union Jack better than someone who is undoubtedly the most handsome man in England today?”

Lencia glanced at her father to see if this compliment was too creamy even for him.

He accepted it with a slight smile and she told herself that her stepmother was being very clever.

“Now, look after everything while I am gone,” the Earl said the night before they left. “And, of course, keep the horses well exercised.”

“Of course, Papa,” Lencia agreed at once.

“It will not be the same as having you with us or going to France with you,” Alice said in a low little voice.

Her stepmother was not then in the room, but the Earl looked rather nervously towards the door before he admitted,

“To be honest with you, my dearest, I would much rather be going to France. But I could not disappoint your stepmother, so we all three have to make the best of it.”

“Yes, of course,” Lencia replied, “and don’t worry about us, Papa, we will be all right.”

She knew as she spoke that she was speaking for herself, as Alice was looking depressed and dismal.

Then a sudden idea came into her mind.

It was so sensational that she thought that she should just laugh it off.

But when she went to bed, she was still thinking about it.

‘I am crazy! Of course we cannot do such a thing,’ she told herself.

But the idea did not go away.

She found herself going over it step by step in her mind.

It was just as her father had taught her to do when they had planned something together.

*

The next morning was all excitement and noise.

Her stepmother, because she was obviously feeling nervous, was speaking sharply to the servants.

Finally they did set off with the Earl and the Countess in one carriage, the brake coming behind, carrying the mountain of luggage, the French lady’s maid, and the Earl’s valet.

The two girls kissed them goodbye on the steps.

As the carriage went off, they waved and their father was almost leaning right out of the window to wave to them in return.

Then, as the horses disappeared down the drive, Alice turned round and walked through the hall and into the sitting room at the far end of it.

It was where she and Lencia usually sat when they were alone.

“Well, they have gone,” she said as her sister came in, “and I do hope that they enjoy themselves. What are we going to do, I would like to know.”

“I can tell you. You and I are going to see Château Chaumont.”

Alice stared at Lencia.

“What are you – saying?” she asked.

“We are going to Chaumont to see it for ourselves,” Lencia repeated. “You know as well as I do that we shall never get there if we wait for Stepmama’s approval. So we have just got to be daring and go on our own. And, if you think about it, why not?”

“Why not?” Alice repeated.

There was a lilt in her voice, but she added,

“But how can we do it alone?”

“I will tell you exactly,” Lencia said again, looking over her shoulder to make sure that the door was shut. “We have to be very clever about it, because no one must know where we are going and we must be back before Papa and Stepmama return from Sweden.”

“That gives us all of ten days,” Alice said.

“I know,” Lencia replied. “I worked it out last night. Of course we cannot go alone, just two young girls together.”

“Then who can we ask to go with us?” Alice enquired.

“You will be accompanied,” Lencia said slowly, “by a widowed lady of about twenty-five and her name is ‘Lady Winterton’.”

Alice stared at her.

“But who – ?” Then she gasped, “You cannot mean – you?”

“Yes, me,” Lencia said. “I have thought it all out. I can wear Mama’s clothes because, as you know, we kept them all. They will make me look much older and you will just have to be yourself.”

“But surely it is impossible. How can we ‒ ?” Alice began.

“We have to be brave and we have to be very careful not to make any mistakes,” Lencia replied, “but, if I am much older than you and married, I see no reason why I should not take you to France. After all, if things become difficult or we get into trouble, we can always come home.”

“I believe you, I believe you!” Alice cried. “Oh, Lencia, you are a genius! I do so want to see Château Chaumont!”

“I know you do,” Lencia said. “I asked myself why Stepmama should spoil everything. She has made Papa happy and that is all his business. But we are definitely unhappy and we have every right to fight for ourselves.”

“I will fight – I am longing to fight,” Alice declared forcefully.

“Well, we will have to hurry to get everything arranged.”

“What do I have to do?” Alice asked her sister.

“Help me choose and pack Mama’s clothes for one thing. The housemaids can do yours, but they must not see what I am doing for otherwise they will talk.”

Alice nodded.

“I will not need many clothes, as we will not be staying long,” Lencia went on. “But they must make me look older. I shall have to use powder and very little rouge as Mama did when she went to London.”

“Mama did not use it in the daytime,” Alice remarked.

“No, but Stepmama does,” Lencia answered. “She is ‘made up to the nines’ but everyone seems to take it as normal. So I imagine that is how all the French women behave.”

“Yes, of course they do,” Alice said. “I have read about them and Papa told me once that in Paris the ladies look like actresses.”

“Then that is how I must look as soon as we can get away from here,” Lencia said. “You must tell the maids that we are going to stay with friends in London, so we will have to get ourselves taken there without anyone from the stables knowing that we are going abroad.”

“That is not going to be easy,” Alice commented.

“I have thought it all out,” Lencia said. “We will get our own horses to take us as far as The Three Kings.”

“Where is that?” Alice asked.

“It is a Posting inn where I know that Papa changes horses when he is driving to London. If you remember, we changed horses there the last time we went to stay with Uncle Tyson.”

“Yes, of course,” Alice nodded, “I remember now.”

“I think,” Lencia said, “we can cover our tracks better if we drive to London rather than go by train.”

Alice said nothing and Lencia went on,

“It is still early in the morning so we have all day to make our plans. After spending the night at The Three Kings, we will hire a carriage to take us on to London. From there we can catch a train to Dover and cross the Channel on the later ferry. That will enable us to take the evening Express to Paris.”

“How do you know all this?” Alice asked.

“I was working it out for our own trip with Papa before he went to stay in Nice.”

She gave a sigh.

“Oh, dear, if only he had not gone. But it seemed such a good idea at the time for him to go away from everything and try to cheer himself up.”

“I know,” Alice said, “but we did not know that would mean Stepmama.”

Lencia was about to say something and then thought that it would be a mistake.

Instead she said,

“Let’s get on with our own plans. We just have to go over them again and again until we are quite certain that they are fool proof. Nothing – I mean nothing – Alice, must go wrong.”