A Dream Come True (7 page)

“But – ”

“No more, Lucia. I have arranged for Lord Winterton to visit us tomorrow and you will receive him with a smile on your face. Is that clear?”

Lucia bowed her head trying to stem the tears welling up in her eyes. Perhaps if she had not been so hasty tonight in rebuffing Edward's advances, he might have proposed and then maybe he might have been able to help out.

But in her heart, she knew that, no matter how wealthy Edward might be, he did not have twenty-five thousand pounds at his disposal.

No, it was hopeless.

She felt so wretched as the motor car purred along the country lanes that she even considered jumping out.

‘Right now, I would not care if I died,' she said to herself miserably. ‘I cannot go and work for that man, there is something about him that is not – at all correct.'

But Lucia knew that she was helpless, utterly helpless. She was not in control of her own fate.

‘Oh, Papa,' she wailed sending up a silent prayer to him in Heaven. ‘Why did you have to die? Help me. Please, help me. I don't know if I can endure being treated like this.'

Lucia's evening had been utterly ruined.

When the Rolls Royce arrived back at Bingham Hall, she ran straight inside without waiting for Sir Arthur and rushed at once to her bedroom.

She threw off her ruined slippers and pulled ferociously at her hairpins.

“Miss,” cried Mary-Anne as she entered. She had not expected her back so soon. “Whatever is the matter?”

Lucia could not speak. She was so angry that she feared she might say something indiscreet and no matter how much she loathed her stepfather at that moment, it would not do to let the servants know.

“Help me get my dress off,” was all she said looking forward to the moment when Mary-Anne would leave her on her own.

As soon as she had shut the bedroom door, Lucia threw herself onto the bed in a fit of rage.

‘I cannot bear to think of having to work for that man,' she wept into her pillow.

Eventually exhaustion overtook her and, when she awoke the next morning, she was still lying on top of the coverlet.

Mary-Anne did not know whether she should remark on her Mistress's state or not. She simply set down the tray with the early-morning cup of tea and went to run her bath.

The maid had only been out of the room for a matter of seconds when there came a knock on the door.

It was Mrs. Darrowby, the housekeeper, and it was only too apparent that she was upset.

“I'm sorry to disturb you so early, miss, but I thought I should come at once. Your Mama has taken a turn for the worse and I think we should call out the doctor.”

“Does my stepfather know about this?” asked Lucia.

“I-I thought that perhaps you would speak to him about it.”

Lucia sighed inwardly, but did not show her emotions. It was obvious that Mrs. Darrowby thought that she alone would be able to make him change his mind on the subject of doctors.

“Very well, once I am dressed I shall go and see him. Is he at home this morning?”

“Yes, miss. He has already had his breakfast and is in the study.”

A little later Lucia held her breath as she knocked on the door of the study.

“Yes, Lucia?”

“It is Mama. She is not at all well. Mrs. Darrowby has asked that we send for the doctor.”

Sir Arthur exhaled and pursed his lips.

“She is gravely ill, sir,” she said pleadingly. “I would not ask if it wasn't serious.”

“You may summon Doctor Maybury from the village. I do not wish for my wife to suffer.”

“Can I not call Doctor Glossop in Harley Street? He is far more experienced with chest complaints. He was wonderful with Mama when she was last ill – ”

“Have you forgotten, Lucia, that we do not have Harley Street money? Until Lord Winterton has visited us this morning, the deal is not set in stone. No, Lucia, Doctor Maybury will suffice.”

It was on Lucia's lips to retort that Doctor Maybury was a doddering old fool who could not cure a horse let alone a human, but she held her tongue.

“Thank you,” she muttered quietly.

“And please wear something else to receive Lord Winterton this afternoon,” called her stepfather as she turned to leave. “I trust you have not forgotten you have promised you would see him? I want you to make yourself as attractive as possible and that gown is far too cheap-looking.”

Flushing scarlet Lucia closed the door behind her.

‘How dare he?' she thought.

But she knew that she could not object. It was true.

The dress she had donned was a bit old and made of a rather nondescript blue merino.

‘And now, we cannot afford to dress according to our station in life,' she moaned as she walked upstairs. ‘I will change and then visit Mama.'

*

 Her mother was not at all well. Her chest wheezed and her cough was now insistent. Mrs. Darrowby had propped her up in bed as, each time she lay back, she found it difficult not to cough.

When Lucia arrived, she found her mother with her face turned away and a worried-looking Mrs. Darrowby attempting to feed her.

“Come along, my Lady – just a spoonful of porridge. It's nourishing and will help sustain you.”

“Please, please take it away.”

Her voice sounded old and frail and tears sprang to Lucia's eyes.

‘This is not my Mama,' she said to herself. ‘How can she have aged so in just one night?'

“Look, my Lady, Miss Lucia is here.”

At that she turned around and her dim eyes seemed to light up for a second.

“Lucia. Darling.”

“Mama, the doctor will be calling this morning. I have just telephoned him.”

“Doctor Glossop?” she asked eagerly.

“No, Mama. Doctor Maybury. He has said that he will be here as quickly as possible. He has just one other call to make before he comes to Bingham Hall.”

Upon hearing this news, she seemed to shrink. She had not cared for the man one bit when she had been ill the year before – he was a fool!

Lucia sat with her mother for a while and then she remembered that she had agreed to call on Edward that afternoon.

‘I cannot go with Lord Winterton coming here,' she reasoned, rising from her chair and ringing for Mrs. Darrowby. ‘I must telephone him at once.'

She asked Joyce at the Telephone Exchange to connect her to him. She felt certain that even though she did not have his number, it would not prove difficult to look up.

After five minutes anxiously pacing the hall, the telephone rang.

“Your call to Mr. de Redcliffe, Miss Mountford.”

“Hallo, Edward?” she called into the mouthpiece.

“Lucia! What a wonderful surprise,” he began. She could hear the eagerness in his voice.

“Edward, I am so sorry, but Mama is not at all well and I will not be able to come over to your house this afternoon.Would you mind terribly if we made it another time? I really want to look over your stables, but today is not the day.”

There was a silence on the line as Lucia waited for his response. She gripped the telephone harder as she waited for him to speak.

“That's a pity,” he said finally in a voice heavy with disappointment. “Please send her my best wishes for a speedy recovery. When would you like to come over?”

“We shall see, Edward. I have called out the doctor and much depends on his diagnosis. Perhaps I can telephone you again or write when I am able to visit?”

“Yes, of course. I am so sorry that your Mama is unwell. I will wait to hear from you.”

“Goodbye, Edward.”

Lucia felt heavy-hearted as she set the telephone back on the receiver. She eyed her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing a white silk blouse that lit up her face and the pearls around her throat made her skin look soft and creamy. Her linen skirt had been made in Paris and fell in a straight line from her slender hips. She presented very much the ideal figure with her rounded bosom and tiny waist.

‘I feel as if I will be parading myself around as if I was for sale,' she thought. ‘But then again, is that not precisely the case?'

Later that morning, the doctor arrived and spent half an hour with her mother.

Lucia was called away before he left, as her stepfather wished to discuss some domestic matters with her.

By the time that the gong sounded for luncheon, Lucia's head was spinning with all the changes he wished to bring about at Bingham Hall. There were to be no more grand dinners, no May ball and, now that the motor car was used more than the carriages, Sir Arthur had mooted selling off some of the horses and the old phaeton.

“We shall also have to either let some of the stable boys go and an ostler or they will cease to live in,” he had explained.

Lucia wondered how everyone would receive the news. Theirs was one of the largest houses in that part of the County and the staff might find it difficult to find alternative employment.

He had also suggested laying off one or two other servants, until Lucia had explained that they were operating with the bare minimum for the size of the house.

As Moston served the soup, she felt pleased that she had been able to save their jobs. Moston had been with the family for many years and she did not know how the house would run without him.

“How is her Ladyship?” he asked as he spooned out the Mulligatawny soup.

“Sleeping,” Lucia informed him. “Doctor Maybury gave her something to help her rest. I shall visit her once she is awake.”

Lucia ate in silence.

Her stepfather came and joined her, but they did not converse. He was as economical with his words as he was with his money. For once, she was completely at ease with that fact.

“I am glad you have decided to make yourself presentable,” he commented as they left the dining room. “I am sure you will please Lord Winterton.”

Lucia's stomach turned as he spoke and it was then she realised that she could not clearly recall Lord Winterton's face.

His lascivious expression – yes, but what colour eyes did he have? How old was he? She had assumed that he was her stepfather's age, but had not seen his face clearly.

‘Well, I shall just have to wait and see,' she told herself, as she tried to pass the time.

On the dot of half-past two the front door bell rang. Lucia heard Moston go to answer it and then voices in the hall.

“The Master is waiting for you in his study,” she heard him say.

After about fifteen minutes, Moston came to find her.

“The Master has sent for you, miss.”

Lucia took a deep breath and felt as if she were walking to her doom. She smoothed back her hair and knocked on the study door.

The first person she saw as she entered was Lord Winterton and she was quite taken aback as he nodded in acknowledgment.

Far from being the older man she had thought she had seen, he was much younger, probably no more than thirty. He was also devastatingly handsome.

His striking blue eyes crinkled at the edges as he walked towards her.

“You did not meet my stepdaughter, Lucia, at the ball,” intoned Sir Arthur.

Lord Winterton took her hand and kissed it. The shock of his moustache on her tender flesh sent shivers through her body.

“Charming,” he said, releasing her hand. “Utterly charming.”

His sensual mouth curved into a smile and, in spite of herself, Lucia felt her heart beating faster in response.

“I have spoken with her about becoming your secretary,” began Sir Arthur. “And she is agreeable to the suggestion.”

“You have a way with words or so I am told,”interrupted Lord Winterton, his eyes raking up and down her frame. “I have need of a secretary with those kind of talents. Do you type?”

“I learned at Finishing School and achieved a distinction in the examination.”

“Very impressive,” he purred in a manner that hinted that he was not only referring to her secretarial abilities.

Lucia shrank beneath his penetrating gaze.

‘That audacious stare,' she said to herself, trying not to appear too self-conscious. ‘But he is so very handsome! Next to him, Edward is a mere boy.'

Lord Winterton moved with the grace of a panther. He walked across the room towards the windows exuding self-confidence and sensuality.

“I have an Underwood Number One – a truly marvellous piece of machinery. Do you think that you could master it?”

“I have already done so,” replied Lucia with confidence. “That was the very machine that I used at school.”

“Excellent,” responded Lord Winterton, turning round to fix her with his gaze once more.

“I find that I need someone to reply to the many letters I receive,” he continued. “I have several businesses both here and abroad and I need someone who is intelligent and can type. Sir Arthur, I would be glad to give your stepdaughter a trial as we discussed earlier. When would she be available?”

“As soon as you desire, Winterton,” he replied with a satisfied smile. “Now, would you care for some refreshment?”

Lucia walked over to the bell and rang it. She noticed that Lord Winterton's eyes followed her as she moved across the room.

Moston came in with the tea ready made. He was excellent at anticipating his Master's needs.

Lord Winterton, who spoke amusingly about his time in India, largely dominated the conversation. By the time they had finished their tea, Lucia was in two minds what to think of him.

‘He seems decent enough – but his manner,' she thought as she poured for their guest. ‘He does not seem to care for the dictates of what is polite behaviour and what is not.'

After a while Sir Arthur spoke up,

“Lucia, would you leave Lord Winterton and me alone now? We have matters to discuss.”

‘The marriage!' she thought with a sick feeling.

Without protesting she rose and went to shake Lord Winterton's hand.