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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

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“But how?” Charles stared at Hugo, frowning. “We’re not part of their quarrels, surely, and anyway the kaiser would avoid involving England. After all, he and the king are first cousins, through Queen Victoria, their grandmother.”

Hugo let out a loud chuckle, and shook his head vehemently. “You don’t think a man like the kaiser, a power-hungry tyrant, would consider
family,
do you, Charles? He couldn’t care less about the king, or the English. Actually, I have a feeling he’s jealous of our great Empire, the success we enjoy in the world. We are, after all, the center of the world … the greatest and most powerful nation there’s ever been.”

“Only too true, and that’s why we shouldn’t let ourselves get drawn into anything that could prove dangerous to the Empire and especially our country.”

“I agree.” Hugo swallowed some of the cognac, and put the glass down on a side table. He leaned forward. “If you have any foreign investments, and by that, I mean in Europe, I suggest you sell. On Monday. Certainly as soon as you can. I have divested myself of all my foreign holdings, except for those in Switzerland. The Swiss banks are rock solid. I know my money is safe there.”

“I’ll certainly take your advice,” Charles answered.

 

Thirty-eight

H
ugo sat back, nursing his brandy balloon in both hands, listening attentively. Charles had started to speak about Cavendon a short while ago, and Hugo was fascinated.

“So after I had gone through the old estate record books, guided by Charlotte, I decided to financially back more tenanted farming, and I’ve put a great emphasis on this, and also on livestock. In my great-grandfather’s day, Cavendon truly was a farming estate. What I want is to get back to that level of agriculture,” Charles explained.

“I think it’s a very wise move,” Hugo replied. “I don’t wish to frighten you, but I still believe there will be a war in Europe. That we’ll get dragged into it … rightly or wrongly. Local produce is going to play a big part in the feeding of this country, because if there’s a war, then we won’t be importing any goods.”

“I must admit, I hadn’t thought of that when I decided to increase the farming here, but after you left for Zurich, it did strike me that I’d made a good decision.”

“What’ve you got? It’s about three thousand acres here, isn’t it?” Hugo frowned. “If I’m remembering correctly.”

“Yes. Without the grouse moor, of course, but—” Charles broke off, and looked at the door.

There had been a light knocking, and now it flew open to reveal Daphne hovering there.

Charles stood up, and so did Hugo, as she glided into the room. It was obvious from the expressions on their faces that they were genuinely surprised to see her.

Before her father could say a word, she exclaimed, “Sorry, Papa, to disturb you in this way, but I have something important to say. May I come in?”

The earl laughed. “You’re already
in,
so you might as well stay and tell us what’s on your mind. And why you’re up at this late hour and still dressed in your evening gown?”

Walking forward, Daphne did not answer. Instead she focused her eyes on Hugo. When she was a foot away from him, she said, “I will marry you, Hugo, I
want
to marry you, actually. I just came to this decision, and I wanted to tell you
immediately.
I went to your room. But you weren’t there. I realized you were probably down here with Papa. Anyway, here I am. With my decision.”

Completely taken aback, Hugo was speechless. He just stood there gaping at her, and then slowly a huge smile spread across his face.

Daphne exclaimed, “Oh, I forgot! Does Hugo have to ask your permission, Papa?”

“Don’t be a silly girl. He already has it!” Charles said.

Hugo rushed forward, took hold of Daphne, and stared into her face. “Are you sure?”

“I am.”

“Are you
sure
you’re sure?”

She nodded. “I am, I really am. So you can kiss me, if you like.”

Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her on the mouth, and then they stood back, smiling at each other.

It was this ease and affection he saw between them that convinced the earl his daughter had made the right decision for herself, that in her own way, she loved Hugo. And he was filled with relief, plus the kind of happiness a father feels when he knows his daughter is in the right hands, the safest hands in the world.

Daphne walked over to him. He hugged her, kissed her cheek. “I’m glad, Daphne, truly happy you made this decision. And on your own,” the earl murmured in a loving voice.

With the help of two Swanns, Hugo thought, but remained silent. Whatever they had said to her, he would be eternally grateful to those two extraordinary women.

Daphne said, “Let us sit down, shall we? You see, I have a few … conditions. I’d like to discuss them with you, Hugo. And you, too, Papa.”

“Conditions,” Charles repeated slowly, a frown crossing his face.

“I’ll agree to anything,” Hugo cried, laughter shining in his eyes. Earlier, he had thought he would explode with desire for her. Now he believed he might just explode with sheer joy. He didn’t care what her conditions were, he’d agree to anything. More or less.

“Papa, the first condition is that you and Mama make the announcement of our engagement immediately. I would like to read it in
The Times
by the middle of next week. No later.” She looked at Hugo. “Do you agree?”

“Absolutely.”

“I would prefer to get married quickly. As soon as possible, actually. And for a number of reasons, the main one being that Aunt Anne could die at any moment. I don’t want my wedding postponed because of a bereavement in the family.”

“But how
soon
is soon? What do you have in mind, darling?” her father asked. “Look here, Daphne, I don’t want your marriage to Hugo to appear to be a shotgun affair.”

“September. At the latest early October,” Daphne answered. “Naturally, I would like to marry Hugo next week, or certainly later in August. However, I know the Glorious Twelfth is on the horizon, will be here imminently. And that Mama and you would not agree to August because of the grouse shooting. So September it is. Is that all right with you, Hugo? Does it suit?”

“Anything you say, anything you want, I’m totally on your side,” was his immediate response. He still couldn’t quite believe all this was happening, and at two-thirty in the morning, no less.

“I would be happy with a small wedding, Papa. Just our immediate family, and that includes Aunt Lavinia and Aunt Vanessa. Will they come? They’re not here much these days, are they?”

“No, because they have busy lives in London,” Charles replied. “I’m quite certain they will want to be here. I know your uncle Jack wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“If Aunt Lavinia allows him to come … you know they’re a bit off track with each other these days.”

“Daphne, really! That’s silly gossip Diedre has planted in your head.”

Daphne shrugged, and sat back. She went on, “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t really think I want to have any bridesmaids, Papa. Just a flower girl. In other words, Dulcie.”

Charles was startled by this statement, and he said in a perplexed tone, “But DeLacy and Diedre will be hurt, Daphne. You really must have them as bridesmaids, they’re your sisters.”

“DeLacy will be happy to walk behind me with Dulcie, but I don’t think Diedre will take to that role quite as easily. After all, she’s older than I am, and she’ll be angry with me because she isn’t getting married first.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, my dear, Diedre loves you. Perhaps you have to speak with your mother about this matter. However, I genuinely believe Diedre will be cut to the quick if she isn’t a bridesmaid with DeLacy.”

“I really only want a flower girl … Dulcie,” Daphne said again.

“She’s a bit of a handful. We need a bridesmaid to take control of her, you know,” Charles pointed out.

Daphne looked across at Hugo. “What are your feelings about bridesmaids?”

“I understand you wish to keep the wedding small, Daphne, darling. Still, I think your father is correct, Dulcie might well need someone to mind her during the service. He certainly has a good point there. One you must consider.”

“All right. Two bridesmaids and a flower girl. Now, Hugo, Papa will be giving me away. And you need a best man. I was wondering how you felt about Guy taking on that role.”

“I’d be honored,” Hugo answered swiftly, wondering when she had thought all this out.

“Regarding the church, Papa, I was thinking we ought to use the church here on the estate. I know it’s not huge, but it will hold the entire Ingham family and all of the Swanns. They must be at the ceremony, don’t you agree?”

“I most certainly do. They’ve been at Ingham marriages for years. They were at mine, and they should be at yours. Just a thought about the church here on the estate, Daphne. It’s not big enough to hold the villagers. So perhaps we should have your marriage ceremony in the village church, then everyone can come. How does that strike you?”

Before she could answer, Hugo said, “I agree with you, Charles, and there’s something else. If I’m not mistaken, the villagers usually have a tea party in the village hall afterwards, don’t they? To celebrate the wedding of an Ingham.”

“You’re absolutely right, Hugo. It had slipped my mind. I must arrange for that to be given, and at my expense.”

“Holding the ceremony in the village church is a lovely idea,” Daphne interjected. “As for our wedding reception—” She broke off, looked at Hugo, and continued, “Shall we have it in the South Wing? What do you think, Hugo? Papa?”

“There’s no place better, in my opinion. What about you, Charles?”

“Of course, it’s the ideal spot,” the earl agreed.

Daphne smiled at them both, and said to Hugo, “Now you must decide about the honeymoon … where we should go. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Hugo answered. “How about Paris? One of my favorite cities, and then we could travel to Zurich. My villa is on the lake, and it is very beautiful.”

“I would like that, Hugo.”

Charles said, “The baby must be born at Cavendon. It is an Ingham, after all.”

“We’ll come back for Christmas, Papa. The baby is due in January.”

 

Thirty-nine


S
omething
old,
something
new,
something
borrowed,
something
blue,
” Cecily said to DeLacy, and then took a small package out of her satchel and placed it on the long table.

The two girls were in the sewing room at Cavendon, Alice Swann’s domain on the floor above the family bedroom corridor. It was two days before Daphne’s marriage to Hugo, and Cecily was waiting for Daphne to arrive, to have the final fitting of her wedding gown.

“So what is it you got for her, Ceci?” DeLacy asked, eyeing the package. “Come on, show me, before Daphne gets here.”

“No, I can’t, Lacy, I don’t want to open it. Mam wrapped it up so nicely with ribbon. But I can describe it.”

“Oh, all right, that will have to do for now.”

“It’s a blue silk garter for her leg. My mother told me a blue garter is popular with brides … it provides the
blue
without being seen.”

DeLacy laughed. “How clever. I bought her a lace wedding handkerchief, which is new. Mama is lending Daphne her diamond bow brooch, and that means
new, blue,
and
borrowed
are taken care of nicely. I don’t know who’s giving her something old.”

“I do,” Ceci said, throwing the large white sheet over the wedding gown hanging on a clothes rack.

“You do! Who is it? Who’s giving her something old?”

“My great-aunt Charlotte. It’s a bracelet, I think.”

“Oh, that’s kind of her,” DeLacy responded. “So that part is settled. Hugo has given Daphne diamond earrings as a wedding present. I think Diedre’s green with envy.”

Cecily simply nodded, not wanting to become involved in a discussion about Lady Diedre, who was not one of her favorites.

Walking over to the large closet, she took out DeLacy’s bridesmaid dress and carried it to the rack. “Do you want to try it one more time?” Ceci asked. “Just to be sure.”

“No, it fits perfectly,” DeLacy replied, and went to join Cecily, began touching the dress. “It’s so pretty. I love the rose-pink taffeta and tulle, the way you’ve combined them.” DeLacy smiled at her. “You are clever.” She turned around. There was a loud knock on the door, and it swung open to admit her brother, Miles.

“I’ve done it!” he exclaimed, striding into the sewing room, closing the door behind him. “Hello, Ceci, DeLacy.”

“Hello, Miles,” Cecily responded.

“Done what?” DeLacy asked.

“Managed to get my ushers together. Finally. I have Mark Stanton, Hugo’s only living relative on his father’s side, plus the three sons of Major Gaunt, who runs the Stanton yard. Hugo’s cousin Mark, and the Gaunts, are his only guests, as you know. So with me and Uncle Jack we’re six. That’s fine, because it’s not a huge fancy society wedding.”

“Oh, don’t say that!” DeLacy cried. “It will be fancy. We’re all going to be dressed beautifully, and wear jewels, and you and the other men will be in morning suits. And Miss Charlotte is making the South Wing look beautiful, with lots of plants and flowers.”

“So Guy told me. He also said there’s going to be a small orchestra, or quartet, something like that. Apparently Cook’s got in extra help and we’re going to have a delicious high tea. All of my favorite things, like sausage rolls and pork pies. I’m glad it’s an afternoon wedding, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” DeLacy touched the pink bridesmaid dress, and said, “Look, Miles, isn’t it lovely? Ceci made it for me.”

Miles nodded. He looked across at Ceci, gave her a huge smile. “You’ve outdone yourself, Ceci. I hear from Daphne that her wedding gown is fantastically gorgeous.”

Cecily nodded, her eyes sparkling. “That might be a bit of an exaggeration, but it is rather lovely, even if I do say so myself.”

“Did Daphne show you her diamonds, Miles?”

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