Pride of the Courtneys (13 page)

Evelyn continued to dab her eyes and sniff. I was sure that she had
merely transferred her dislike from me to Georgiana, for now she had
indeed ‘lost’ her brother. I could not feel any pity for the selfish,
moody young woman. I could only wish that Charles would find the happiness
he so deserved with Georgiana.

I turned to look at Bassett. What was he thinking about the affair, I
wondered, he had said little yet.

The expression I saw on his face startled me. He was looking directly at
me and the smile on his face showed clearly that he was not seriously
perturbed at the elopement of his young sister.

‘Bassett,’ I said hesitantly, ‘ you are not angry?’

‘No—not angry,’ and he added softly, ‘only relieved.’

Before I could ask what he meant, he had turned away to give further
comfort to Evelyn, who was very much in need of it.

Relieved? I was puzzled. Why? Was it because Bassett was thankful now
that Georgiana was not to marry Cedric Rothbone? My brow wrinkled with
perplexity. But he had refused pointedly to take steps to prevent it as I
had begged him. Surely, if he had thought it against Georgiana’s interests
he would have opposed the marriage plans? And undoubtedly the sway Bassett
wielded would have been sufficient to quash the marriage. This was the
only thing I could think of, for I was sure his relief was nothing to do
with me, and the fact that I was not marrying Charles.

I bent to help Lady Courtney, who was still suffering from shock and
mortification.

But my help was rebuffed.

‘Is this another of your schemes, Louella Lloyd, to discredit the
Courtney name further?’

‘I did not make them fall in love.’

‘Love? Pah, what do you know of love?’

I felt that now the others in the room were listening, for Lady
Courtney’s hysteria had attracted their attention. There was silence in
the room as they awaited my answer.

‘Very little, I fear, from my own point of view, but if you had seen them
together, Lady Courtney, you could not deny the love between them. Surely
you would not deny Georgiana such happiness?’

‘It is not for you to tell me what I should or should not do. But for
you, I believe my daughter would have made a good and suitable marriage to
Cedric Rothbone.’

‘Now, mother,’ Bassett’s tone was indulgent. ‘ It is not fair to blame
Louella.’

He turned to me.

‘Mother must blame someone and since the guilty pair are out of reach,
you seem to be the nearest,’ and I imagined I heard him mutter beneath his
breath, ‘as always.’

I was grateful for Bassett’s defence of me, and for once I warmed to him.
Perhaps there was a spark of feeling for his inferiors somewhere beneath
that aloof air.

‘Bassett, I must explain …’

‘Not now, Louella, later. Tell me later.’

And he turned back to his mother.

‘Come now, mother. I think you should rest. This has obviously upset
you.’

And he helped her up and put his arm about her gently.

‘Bassett, oh Bassett, what have I done to deserve such erring children?’

And with renewed vigour she wagged her forefinger in Bassett’s face.

‘You’re no better, Bassett Courtney, than your disobedient
sister—insisting on marrying that—that—’

Words failed her and she could find no adjective insulting enough to
apply to me.

As Lord Rothbone and his son went for an early morning ride and
breakfasted later than the rest of us, they had missed hearing the news.
The unpleasant task of breaking it to them fell upon Bassett. I did not
envy him, for I deduced that Lord Rothbone’s cold eyes and thin lips were
a sign of violent temper if thwarted.

Later, Bassett told me of his interview with father and son in his study.

‘I thought for a moment, Louella, he would strike me,’ he said speaking
of Lord Rothbone, ‘he was so angry, he turned purple. But Cedric merely
smiled and shrugged. I doubt very much whether he had any deep feeling for
Georgiana at all.’

I felt his dark eyes upon me and hesitatingly, I met his gaze.

‘I must admit you were right, Louella,’ he said softly. ‘ Cedric would
never have made her happy. I regret I did not move to stop their
marriage.’

I smiled, ready to forgive him now that Georgiana’s happiness was secure.

‘You cannot be expected to understand the desires of a woman’s heart.’

‘And your own, little Louella?’ His tone dropped so deep and soft that I
scarcely heard. I was disconcerted. I answered hastily, afraid somehow of
being trapped.

‘Mine?’ My voice was slightly shrill with nervousness. ‘My heart is not
captured, I am thankful, for it seems it can bring unhappiness as easily
as happiness.’

Bassett’s tender tone and gentle look disappeared.

Whatever answer he had looked for, I had not given it. He changed the
subject and the moment when we might have found some sort of mutual
understanding was lost. I acknowledged the fault to be mine.

My prickly pride would get in the way and spoil things.

Had Bassett been trying to find out whether I was heartbroken at the loss
of Charles to Georgiana? And if so, what was his motive?

‘I fear we shall have trouble this winter, Louella,’ Bassett was saying,
‘and since by that time you will be my wife, it will necessarily involve
you. So I think you should be warned.’

He had turned away from me and gone to stand before the window to gaze at
the long slope down to the rippling river flowing serenely on its way to
join the ocean.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Do you remember, when we were taking that ride together, the first one,
the day Millicent arrived, I spoke about droughts and floods?’

‘Yes, I remember.’

‘It seems that the fears then voiced by the old men in the village are
becoming more widespread. The weather prophets are foretelling a very
severe winter with heavy snowfalls.’

Bassett turned sharply and looked at me.

‘Which means that the melting snow will probably cause the river to
flood.’

‘Oh Bassett, how dreadful. Whatever will the villagers do, their homes
will be flooded?’

Bassett crossed the room and stood before me again. He put his hands on
my shoulders and looked down into my upturned face.

‘Louella, you are good for me. Remember that, whatever anyone else may
say.’

At such a compliment, I blushed and let my eyes drop. I felt Bassett’s
lips brush my hair in a tender kiss.

I was startled. I had expected no such display of emotion from the master
of Courtney Hall.

But as he turned swiftly away and resumed his earnest conversation on his
plans for the victims of the flood, should it occur, the moment was
forgotten and afterwards I wondered if I had dreamt it all.

‘The occupants of any house threatened by the flood would have to come up
to Courtney Hall, of course, for being on higher ground it is most
unlikely that we shall be affected at all.’

‘We could turn the ballroom into a sort of dormitory for the men, and
most of the women and children could probably be accommodated in the
bedrooms. There are a vast number in the north and south wings unused.’

‘That’s a good idea, Louella, I had not, I must admit, got as far as
thinking about actual places for their sleeping quarters.’

He paused and his tone hardened.

‘We shall no doubt meet with opposition from my mother. She feels it
lowers the authority and position of the master of Courtney to give
shelter to his workers.’

I remained silent, though I think Bassett expected an answer. I did not
wish to embark upon making derogatory remarks about his mother.

‘But she will have to be told,’ he said firmly, and I smiled inwardly at
his tone, knowing that she would, indeed, be told.

The matter of the flood was not spoken of for some time after this
conversation had taken place, for the summer days of late August were so
bright and peaceful that the world seemed as if it would never snow or
rain again. It was difficult to think of winter weather and rushing water,
when strolling by the lazy river under cloudless skies.

Preparations were well under way for our wedding, and
came the day when the dressmaker from London, specially hired by Bassett,
arrived with samples of material and patterns for my choice of gown.

I had to choose it alone and no one else, except the maid who was to help
me dress on my wedding morning, was to see it, but the dressmaker and
myself.

A suite of apartments had been set at his disposal, for he had not only
to make my wedding finery and a whole trousseau of clothes for me, as
Bassett had ordered, but other members of the household, the bridegroom
included, demanded a new set of clothes.

I had never seen such material or such beautiful patterns. I was lost. I
turned to the little man at my side.

‘Mr Lewisson, I am overwhelmed. I have never seen such grandeur. I really
don’t know what to choose. Please help me.’

He was a kindly little man with a slight foreign accent. He was
unassuming, but reassuring. I felt he knew I was unused to the position in
which I found myself, and he was sympathetic.

His long, delicate fingers, used to stitching fine garments with endless
patience, guided the flying pencil over sheet after sheet of paper,
designing, suggesting, guiding my choice of wedding dress and fine gowns.

‘Might I suggest, madam,’ he murmured, ‘that for your wedding gown you
should wear a unique gown, one which we will design together, you and I.
An exquisite gown.’

The dress he drew seemed so complicated to me that I could not really
imagine how it would look. It was all pleats and trains and drapes. The
other gowns were more simple, amongst them being a high-necked,
long-sleeved, tight fitting day dress in pale blue; two afternoon dresses
with plain skirts and over dresses cut in princess style draped in all
manner of directions, and decorated with ribbons and lace; a summer dress
in lemon; a high-necked dress with a printed flower pattern. There were
three evening gowns of different colours and materials, my favourite being
in emerald green, low neckline and embroidered with sequins.

‘How can I thank you, Mr Lewisson?’ I said, gratefully when we had
finished. ‘ The garments you have chosen and designed are lovely, but I
fear I cannot do justice to them.’

‘You are too modest, madam, your gentle beauty will be richly enhanced by
these clothes. You will not displease your groom, I guarantee.’

I coloured slightly, for the poor man was naturally under the impression
that my sole intention was to please Bassett. Perhaps, in some measure, he
was right for I certainly had no wish to displease him—I was too
frightened of his wrath. But I was not, as a young bride should be,
anxious, to the exclusion of all else, to captivate my bridegroom
completely.

I knew I had not the power to do so, had I wished.

The days flew by and the house became alive with activity in preparation
for the great day. There were over a hundred guests to be invited for what
was to be one of the biggest weddings in the country.

Lady Courtney, over-ruled by her wilful son in the choice of his bride,
had won her own way in having a grand wedding, and because I had no family
to give me the wedding, it fell to the Courtneys, who, thwarted in their
right to give Georgiana a grand wedding, revelled in their son’s marriage
plans.

Bassett, I noticed, kept out of all the arrangements and left them
entirely to his mother. And she, in her element, was a great deal easier
to get along with from my point of view. But each time she remembered
exactly who it was that Bassett was marrying, obviously it spoilt her
complete enjoyment of the proceedings.

But, I must admit, in fairness, she was a little kindlier disposed
towards me.

I could not help feeling that this came about because Millicent had left
Courtney Hall for a short while.

Her long stay had come to an end, and she had returned home on the
pretext of completing her own preparations for the wedding. But she
intended, she made it clear, to resume her stay at the Hall shortly before
the day of the wedding. But I believed that with her vicious tongue
removed from pouring tirades against me into Lady Courtney’s ear, and with
the latter gleefully occupied in being the pivot of the arrangements, I
was less hated than previously.

Sir Hugh, bewildered as I with all the preparations, confided to me that
he was ‘as pleased as punch’ that Georgiana had escaped the clutches of
that ‘simpering whippet Cedric.’

‘I don’t know how Emily could have chosen the boy for her, really I
don’t. Why, Victoria, Emily seems to have no idea of what is best for her
children. Indeed she doesn’t.’

And he sighed sadly.

By this time, I had grown used to his calling me Victoria. I no longer
worried about it, though at times I was still curious to know why he did.

The wedding date was set for the nineteenth of September and as the day
neared, the weeks seemed to fly past even more quickly.

On the afternoon of the fifteenth, Lady Courtney and I were seated in the
drawing-room, discussing final plans for the day—at least, Lady Courtney
was instructing me in the proper manner in which to conduct myself amongst
the important guests who were to be present.

‘Although you are the most important person in the gathering,’ she paused
and I thought that she was probably reflecting upon the undesirability of
my person being the central character. However, she continued.

‘It is not expected of you to carry out onerous duties on such an
occasion. Your main task will be to appear shy, happy and polite to all
your guests. Wedding day nerves are indulged by all, even Lords and
Ladies, though you are not expected to weep, to blush excessively, or to
show your nervousness by any outward sign.’

At this point, her conversation was interrupted by the sound of the
arrival of a carriage.