Doubting Abbey (29 page)

Did he really? I shook myself. So what? I was the one he’d kissed.

‘James tells me you and your husband share a love of birdwatching,’ Lady C said to Annabel. ‘On my first day here, I was absolutely thrilled to spot a common yellowthroat.’

Annabel nodded. ‘Several visited last year and we wondered if they were nesting in the forest. James really must bring you over to the Manor. Jarvis, our gardener, has spent two years planting out a special area to attract the best of Britain’s wild birds.’

And they were off – the oldies moved outside, chatting furiously about nuts, berries and nesting material. The room went quiet as the cameraman followed them outside and I was left with Edward and Henrietta.

‘I’m not sure bird talk is going to compete with Marwick Castle’s celebrity guests,’ I muttered. ‘According to Roxy, they arrive this evening before tomorrow’s party.’ Oops. I sounded very negative. How unladylike. ‘Apologies, Henrietta,’ I said. ‘Forgive me. I shouldn’t bother you with such issues.’

Edward put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Wow! In polite company, that was outrageous physical contact!

‘Don’t apologise, Cousin,’ he said. ‘I have discussed all of this with Henry. In any event…’ He cleared his throat.

‘Later on this evening,’ said Henrietta, ‘we have an announcement that will liven up the proceedings.’

I didn’t like the way they exchanged looks, her eyes all chandelier sparkly.

‘Do tell,’ I said and fixed a smile on my face as my heartbeat increased.

Kathleen appeared at that moment, with a tray bearing six glasses and a jug of Pimms.

With a sigh, I followed Henrietta and Edward outside. ‘The food looks mega,’ I whispered to Kathleen. ‘Thanks for everything.’

She squeezed my arm and left. I offered to pour the drinks.

‘Have you chosen a dress yet, for that Lieutenant Robert Mayhew’s charity ball?’ I asked Henrietta as I finally sat down, booze poured and conversation flowing.

‘Ooh, yes – from a wonderful boutique not many people know about, in the city. I must take you there some time.’

‘Boutique’ sounded posh. ‘Bargain basement’ were words I normally used when clothes shopping.

Edward’s mouth twitched. ‘As usual, I imagine Rob will dance with practically every lady between eighteen and eighty.’

Henrietta giggled. ‘It’s such a shame that, after all these years, you still abhor dancing.’ She shook her head at me. ‘Even at his twenty-first, Edward was quite rude to the queue of girls begging to partner him on the dance floor.’

Leaving Henrietta to reminisce, I relaxed back into the wicker chair and gazed towards the vegetable garden and up towards the forest. Last night’s popping candy inside me had gone decidedly flat as she and Edward laughed together. Discreetly, I sipped my Pimms until, before I knew it, my glass was empty—listening to everyone’s plummy accents and tales of their fancy lives made me feel more than ever that I didn’t belong here.

‘I don’t know about anyone else,’ said the Earl, ‘but those sausage rolls are calling. Ladies, please help yourselves to some cold supper.’

‘That tart looks absolutely delicious, Abbey,’ said Henrietta. She linked arms with me as we headed for the table. ‘I was in awe of your cookery lesson on Wednesday. Those pheasant breasts looked divine. Please say you’ll give me a personal lesson. I found the recipe rather quick to follow on the television.’

Green eyes all smiley, she gave a small laugh. It was no good. Even jealousy couldn’t stop me liking the woman.

‘Of course,’ I said and glanced sideways to see an unusually chatty Edward talking to Roxy. She clapped her hands together and jumped up and down. I had a bad feeling about this special announcement.

Four slices of Cheddar, two portions of tart and three chunks of yummy bread with pâté later, I felt no better—so much for comfort eating. It was just as well the cameraman had taken a break from filming. Although it had brightened up my evening watching poor Lady C’s eyes bulge as a bit of the real me crept in and I kept stuffing myself with the goodies!

As the sun sank towards the horizon, we moved inside. I struggled to keep my yawns subtle. Out of nowhere, Gaynor appeared. An extra lighting man came in. Roxy paced up and down. Edward took Henrietta’s hand and muttered the word…
engagement.

Ernest clapped Edward on the back. Girlishly, Annabel whispered something to Lady C, who gasped before – get this—
offering her congratulations
.

‘Uncle?’ I said weakly, ‘what’s going on?’

He puffed on his pipe and consulted his pocket watch. ‘Well, it’s not really my place to say—wait a few more minutes and you’ll find out, live on TV.’ He smiled. ‘Hopefully, something that will boost our popularity.’

Roxy muttered the word ‘ring’ and both Edward and Henrietta gazed at each other.

I felt giddy. And sick. More tired than ever and frowning, no doubt increasing those lines on my forehead. A lump rose in my throat and fortunately blocked the release of what Lady C would call ‘a very unpleasant word’.

Last night… That kiss… How could I have been so stupid? As if a member of the aristocracy would see me as anything more than a passing fancy. I curled my fists. His loss—wouldn’t want anything to do with such a snob anyway. But this was the twenty-first century, for God’s sake. Commoner KMid was good enough for the future King of England – what
was
Edward’s problem?

‘Not long now, Henry,’ Edward muttered and patted her arm.

My eyes tingled which must be because I was knackered and definitely not to do with being used by some aristocratic bastard. But…poor, good-natured Henrietta. How could Edward cheat on someone so pretty and classy? There was no way I could stay to watch this farcical announcement without blurting out that he’d recently snogged another woman. Honestly… And there was me guilt-tripping about
my
deception.

Mumbling that I felt unwell, I rushed out of the Drake Diner and almost collided with someone. To avoid saying hello, I lowered my head, catching sight of polished shoes and pressed trousers. As quickly as possible, I made my way upstairs and into my bedroom. Deep breaths. In and out. I tugged out my hair pins and shook my hair loose.

Four-poster bed, tapestries, furniture with fancy carved feet… What was I doing here? The Croxleys and Hamilton-Browns of this world might as well have come from another planet. I pulled my dress over my head and yanked my suitcase out from under the bed. I flipped it open and grabbed a short skirt and skimpy top, chicken fillets, bronzer and red hairspray. Great. I was me again. Er, not so great when, minutes later, someone rapped on the door.

‘Cousin, are you all right?’ said Edward’s voice. ‘There’ll be a special announcement in about fifteen minutes. May I come in? I could do with picking up the laptop, to use later, before I go to bed – if that suits you.’

Eek! I lay motionless.

The door handle turned and Edward entered the bedroom.

‘Do you always come in without an invitation?’ I snapped and sat up.

‘Gemma…’ Sunshine trickled into his voice. ‘It’s you… How…? Weren’t we meeting by the pond at midnight?’

I jumped off the bed and stood in front of him, arms folded. ‘Have you no shame? I thought you were a cold fish, but this… What about Henrietta? Don’t her feelings matter?’

His brow furrowed.

‘Don’t plead ignorance. Abbey’s just told me – before, um, she had to rush to the bathroom.’

‘Told you what? And why are you here so early?’

‘I didn’t leave. My, um, brother was offered an extra shift at the supermarket, so he stayed over, on a colleague’s sofa. Abbey put me up last night and said I could chill out here all day and help her with some phone calls.’ I glared at him. ‘Anyway, don’t change the subject. Did you know about this announcement last night?’

‘Why does that matter?’ He stepped forward and gently unfolded my arms. ‘Tell me – what’s wrong. How can I help ease your distress?’

‘You’re unbelievable! Despite what happened between us, you’re about to announce your engagement.’

‘I am?’ His mouth twitched. ‘Gemma, there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.’

‘It’s not funny,’ I said, hardly stopping for breath. ‘What are you hoping for, one quick shag with a commoner before you commit to noble blood?’

His cheeks flushed.

‘Oh, soz,’ I said, ‘shouldn’t a lady speak like that?’

‘I don’t care how you speak,’ he muttered. ‘What concerns me more is that you won’t even listen to my explanation.’

‘Your excuse, more like.’ My voice wobbled. ‘Just go. Leave me alone.’

‘Gemma, you’ve got it wrong. Henry and I…’

I swung around. ‘Just a bit of fun, wasn’t I?’

He grabbed my hands. ‘Fun? Yes. Thank God. It’s a long time since I’ve felt so carefree. Gemma, you have no idea… Until you came along, my life, it was like…a silent movie. But it’s as if you’ve added a soundtrack and a whole new dimension.’

‘Stop it,’ I said. ‘You’re a disgrace to the Croxley name. Where’s your sense of loyalty?’

‘But…’

‘I know your sort, Edward,’ I said, trying to control that wobble. ‘Gentleman by name or not, you’re only interested in me for one thing. I mean, surely Henrietta must have the fun factor as well?’

‘She has…’ he said, ‘but for some reason doesn’t bring it out in me. Not like you do, Gemma… Henry has always been… a good friend. My parents…Father, he’s known Ernest and Annabel for almost thirty years—’

‘Oh, poor you,’ I said. ‘Now you’re trying to make your relationship with her sound like some crappy arranged marriage. She’s a mega girl …from, um, what Abbey says. Yet, like lots of blokes, you just want to keep your options open.’

The light faded in his eyes. ‘No point defending myself, then,’ he said in a measured voice. ‘You’ve already made up your mind about my intentions.’

I bit my thumbnail, willing my chin not to tremble.

‘Don’t worry.’ He picked up the laptop and went to the doorway. ‘This…what was it?…
cold fish
won’t bother you again. I do apologise, Gemma. I thought… You and me… The pond… Tig…’ He swallowed. ‘Perhaps talking movies aren’t the great invention people thought them to be. Perhaps silence is… safer.’

LORD EDWARD’S E-DIARY

Friday 7th September

‘Comments’

11.55p.m.
Forget what I said about today being damned decent. In fact, I’m wondering whether I should bore you further with my thoughts. Blogging brings to mind words ‘heart’ and ‘sleeve’. Maybe the programme-makers were wrong about this e-diary and, for everyone’s sake, this should be my last entry.

Chapter 22

‘Took your time to get up this morning, didn’t you Cousin?’ Edward scowled. I’d just walked into the Drake Diner. It was almost eleven. In one hour, the first evacuees would arrive.

‘Forgive me,’ I said with a sneer. ‘I assume you haven’t spoken to my aunt yet? She would have told you that I was ill last night, and needed time to recover.’

The cameraman picked up his equipment to film us, but I glared at him and, mega fast, he changed his mind. For the first time in days, I felt no guilt at lying to that cheating scoundrel, my supposed cousin. Anyway, I had felt ill – physically sick to my stomach. And dog-tired, as if the intense days of late had suddenly caught up with me. Shortly after he’d left last night, Lady C had hurried up to my room. I delayed her entry by pretending to need the loo and quickly took off my Gemma clothes as she had no idea I’d brought them with me. Also, I wrapped my red hair in a turban of towel. When I finally allowed her in, she took one look at me and tucked me straight into bed without a word, which suited me fine. However, I didn’t sleep well and ended up having some random dream, where Edward turned out to be cockney barrow boy in disguise.

I glanced at the trestle tables, near to where Edward stood. Toys from the evacuees’ rooms were spread out, next to piles of ration books and various paperwork.

‘You’ve done a good job,’ I muttered, despite myself. ‘By the way, Norman Barker telephoned to say he’s bringing along another evacuee friend – somebody Smith, I believe.’

Edward nodded.

‘Abbey, darling, how are you feeling?’ Lady C swept into the room. ‘That cream trouser suits you to a tee. You looked truly dreadful last night – as white as the meringue on Kathleen’s pavlova dessert. Did you manage the scrambled eggs that dear woman brought up? They always sort out a gyppy tummy.’

‘Thank you, Aunt. Yes. It was very thoughtful of her.’

‘So…’ Lady C smiled ‘…I assume you’ve heard the exciting news.’

Edward’s shoulders tensed up. Deep breath. Mustn’t show any emotion when she announces the engagement.

Lady C’s face lit up. ‘Henrietta is getting married!’

‘How wonderful,’ I said in a flat voice, trying to act all dignified as I knew Abbey would in such a situation.

‘Don’t you want to know who to?’ Lady C sat down at the dining table, already set with silver cutlery and fancy napkins. ‘To Edward—’

My heart sank. Now it was confirmed.

‘To Edward’s friend,’ she said. ‘Robert Mayhew.’

‘Par… Pardon?’

‘You know – the dashing lieutenant chap.’

Mouth dry, knees like jelly, I sat down next to her.

‘He was here last night, Abbey. Such a pity you missed him. He arrived shortly after you left the room.’

Of course – the polished shoes and pressed trousers I’d caught a glimpse of.

‘Little as Robert likes his newfound celebrity, he suggested announcing the engagement on air, to boost Applebridge’s Hall’s popularity,’ said Lady C.

‘He is a good friend indeed,’ said Edward, eyes flashing in my direction. ‘Henry insisted she and Robert owed me this favour because I introduced them to each other all those years ago.’

My head swirled. Crap. Double crap. How could I have doubted reliable Edward? His loyalty to the ancestors and the family home should have told me he’d never cheat. I’d read into his relationship with Henrietta what I was frightened of seeing, not what was really there. A feeling of nausea rose at the back of my throat. Tears filled my eyes. Talk about a roller coaster journey. Now I knew why celebrities often suffered breakdowns on reality TV shows. I bit my lip. How much more of all this could I take?