Pride of the Courtneys (14 page)

Lady Courtney rose.

‘Now who can this be arriving at such an hour?’

I rose from my seat when Lady Courtney did so, but did not follow her to
the window. However, when I heard her gasp of surprise, I moved a little
nearer to try and see who had arrived.

Lady Courtney turned from the window, her face white, her eyes wide and
startled.

‘Fetch Bassett—I’ll find Sir Hugh,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘It’s
Georgiana—dared to come home.’

I flew from the room. I would have liked to have gone straight to welcome
the couple, but I knew Lady Courtney needed Bassett’s help. She was not
sure what reception to give her wayward daughter. Perhaps she had not
thought that Georgiana and Charles would ever appear at Courtney Hall
again. Certainly by the look on her face, she had not prepared herself for
such an event.

I knocked on Bassett’s study door.

‘Come in.’

I opened the door and entered noiselessly.

Bassett was working at his desk, bending over a sheaf of papers. His
mouth was set in a hard line, his fingers tapping the desk with
impatience. Something in what he was reading was disturbing him. I was
sorry for Georgiana and prayed she had not caught her

brother in a bad temper.
Bassett looked up and some of the hardness left his face.
I smiled, uncertainly, and saw his face relax even more.
‘What is it, Louella?’ he asked, not unkindly.
‘Georgiana and Charles have returned.’
Bassett frowned. Fear stabbed at my heart. Surely he would not

turn them away?
‘Does Lady Courtney know of their arrival?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what did she say?’
‘She—she sent me to find you.’
Bassett merely grunted and rose.
‘Come, then, Louella, we shall meet the runaway pair. And since you and I
are betrothed, you shall take my arm.’ And he crooked his arm, and offered
it to me.
I wondered what game he was playing. Shyly, I put my hand on his arm and
we left the study and went to the front door where Lady Courtney and Sir
Hugh were already waiting. The door had not been opened and I knew
Georgiana and Charles were waiting fearfully on the driveway.
Bassett opened the huge door. I glanced up at his face. He wore a stern
forbidding frown. We stepped out and stood looking down on Georgiana and
Charles, whose eyes went straight to Bassett as if trying to read their
fate, for they knew with whom it rested.
Though I smiled warmly in their direction, they were not looking at me.
Drawn by their regard, I turned to look at Bassett myself. His expression
had not altered.
My heart sank. Surely this callous man was not going to turn away his own
flesh and blood? Was there no love in him for his own sister even?
‘Well, Louella,’ Bassett said softly, so that no one else could possibly
hear, ‘and what is our reply to this entreaty for forgiveness?’

‘Welcome them home, Bassett, please.’
‘Do you ask that as your wedding gift?’

‘Gladly.’

He smiled suddenly, and again the sun shone on a grey world.

‘Then we shall.’

He raised his voice.

‘Welcome home, Georgiana, welcome home, Charles.’ And he stretched out
his right hand to them.

Georgiana and Charles leapt forward. Charles to clasp Bassett’s hand and
Georgiana to fall, almost weeping with joy, into my arms.

All this while, Lady Courtney and Sir Hugh had stood behind us. I could
not know what they were thinking, or what their wishes were, but following
our lead, Sir Hugh came ambling forward to bestow kisses on his daughter,
and Lady Courtney allowed herself to be greeted dutifully by Georgiana and
her new son-in-law.

The happiness of the reunion with my dear Georgiana and Charles, the joy
with which I heard of their marriage, their short honeymoon and their
excited plans, was soon overshadowed by another arrival at Courtney Hall.

The next morning Millicent returned to Courtney Hall in readiness for the
wedding.

The easier relationship which I had enjoyed briefly with Lady Courtney
ceased immediately. Millicent’s treachery was at work again, and it
affected not only Lady Courtney, but also Bassett, for he hardly spoke
half a dozen words to me from the moment of Millicent’s arrival until our
wedding day.

My wedding day dawned as perfect as any bride could
wish for. From my window, I watched the fingers of early morning sun creep
across the lake and light the glowing autumn colours on the woodland
slopes beyond. The gentlest of breezes softly whispered across the grass,
rippling it like soft waves on a green ocean. Even the birds sang a dawn
chorus, solely for my benefit.

I was awake early and occupied with my own thoughts when Mary brought my
breakfast on a tray.

Courtney brides, even unwelcome ones, were treated with tenderness and
indulgence.

‘It’s the most beautiful day, miss. Aren’t you lucky?’

I smiled wryly, but agreed with her. The girl was as excited as if it
were her own wedding day.

But how could she know that this was the day I had dreaded for weeks?
This meant, for me, the end of all freedom.

Later, as I dressed, I noticed the slight colour in my cheeks, the
brightness of my eyes only enhanced my appearance. These outward bridal
signs were not caused by happy anticipation, but by fear, cold and
reasoned.

I feared the final bond which bound me irrevocably to the Courtneys.

The mirror told me I looked as well as most brides—would that my heart
matched my appearance, I thought.

The wedding dress was a work of art on the part of the little dressmaker.
The bodice had a waistcoat front of finely pleated satin with delicate
lace flounces on the sleeves and a stand-up collar. A flower-sprigged
brocade formed an overdress which draped itself over the bustle and fell
in soft folds to a train. The delicate veil was held in place by
traditional orange blossom forming a high headdress.

Mary was my only companion that morning, for no one must see my bridal
array until I left my room on my way to church.

Mary fussed round me, and I was grateful for her excited chatter.

Ready half-an-hour before I had to leave, I persuaded her to go and get
ready herself.

‘Are you sure, miss? I don’t like leavin’ you, really. You
look—well—nervous, miss.’

I smiled. Perhaps Mary guessed a little of what I was feeling, but did
not like to put it into words.

‘Mary, you have helped me enormously—but I am perfectly prepared, now.
Off you go or you’ll miss the service.’

Alone once more, I stood at the long window of my room. This window, at
the back of the great house, looked upon nothing of the flurrying
carriages and coaches, which I knew were leaving at the front of the
house. My panorama was peaceful, sunlit countryside. The trees, still
clothed in their autumnal leaves, rustled gently and the river glimmered
in the sunlight.

The countryside was happy and so beautiful that I felt a lump in my
throat.

I thought of Aunt Virginia and Uncle James and longed for their
comforting presence on this dreadful day. My letter to Uncle James, an
impassioned plea for his help, for his permission to join him in Canada,
lay unposted in my writing bureau. Later, I should destroy it. Every day,
I had tried to find the courage to send it. But somehow, the pride which
held my tears in check, also forbade that I should beg and plead for
favours.

I was already the unwilling recipient of too many Courtney favours.

For some strange, twisted reason of his own, Bassett had demanded that I
married him. I was certain, now, that he was using me as a means of
avoiding marriage with Millicent; a means to avoid hurting the girl in a
blunt fashion; a means to thwart his mother’s plans; and perhaps even a
means of quelling the rebellious spirit of the orphan who had arrived,
unwelcomed, on his doorstep.

To rebel against a marriage which promised a reasonable security and a
high standard of living was unthought of, especially one which led to the
luxurious living of the mistress of Courtney Hall. But what of happiness?

In that half hour as I waited in my bridal gown, I firmly believed that
the happiness I had known in my life when I had lived with Aunt Virginia
and Uncle James was far behind me, and that I should never taste such
happiness again.

Suddenly, I longed for Georgiana’s company, and Charles’ too. They had
some affection for me, I thought. I forced myself to forget my self-pity
and to count my fortunes.

I smiled wryly to myself.

At least plain Louella Lloyd was not to be left an old maid. At least I
was entering the honourable state of marriage. I would be well established
and comfortable.

But still—I could not forget my dislike of the man I had to marry.

I shuddered to think that I had to submit to this man’s every demand, and
I dreaded my wedding night.

A gentle tap on the bedroom door disturbed my troubled thoughts.

‘ ’Tis time for you to come down, now, miss,’ Mary’s excited face peered
round the door. ‘ There be only Dr Corby waiting to take you to church.’

I picked up my bouquet of red roses, carefully, whilst Mary came forward
to adjust the gossamer veil over my face.

Slowly, almost regally, we descended the stairs.

Charles stood in the hall, resplendent in his new suit. As I had no
relation near, Charles was to give me away.

His face was sober. I wondered what could be amiss. My heart lurched. Was
something wrong between Georgiana and him. There was such an odd
expression in his eyes.

Mary slipped away down the passage to hurry across the field to the
little church standing in the Courtney parklands, only a short distance
from the Hall.

Still Charles did not speak but continued to stare at me.

‘Charles …’ I began hesitantly.

He jumped visibly.

‘Louella—forgive me—I was beginning to wonder if you were real. My dear,
I never realised how beautiful you would look.’

‘Bless you, Charles. But I don’t need flattery to give me courage—I am
quite resigned.’

A small frown crossed his face, then he smiled.

‘Dear Louella, who has given me so much happiness with my dearest
Georgiana, when will you learn to distinguish truth from flattery? But
come, we must away. Your golden coach awaits, princess.’

And so, with Charles’ strange mood dispelled and his buoyant spirit
restored, we left Courtney Hall—I for the last time as Miss Louella Lloyd.

It seemed that all the residents of Courtney village were milling round
the church. They waved, smiled and shouted greetings and good wishes. I
was moved by their friendliness.

The organ notes, muted and solemn, met us as we alighted from the coach
and stepped into the porch.

The church door opened and we waited briefly whilst Georgiana, as my
matron of honour, took her place behind us.

I could not help a stab of envy as I saw the loving look which passed
between Charles and Georgiana, and their quick touching of hands.

A stir of expectancy ran through the packed church as the organist strode
purposefully into the Bridal March. The congregation rose as we entered
through the west door and walked solemnly up the aisle.

I kept my eyes fixed firmly on the Altar, far away under the glowing
stained-glass window.

We reached the steps, the vicar moved forward to meet us and I felt
Bassett move to my side.

All my life I had dreamed of this moment when I would arrive at this
place, look up and meet the eyes of the man I loved.

But that was my dream.

And this was reality.

I had arrived, but I did not look up to meet Bassett’s eyes. I kept my
gaze straight ahead and met the kindly eyes of the ageing vicar.

I have ever since regretted that I did not greet my bridegroom in the
customary way, for perhaps then we might, in that solemn, awe-inspiring
moment, have found a mutual understanding.

But my foolish stubbornness once more prevented me from displaying any of
the normal reactions of a happy bride.

I would not disgrace the Courtneys with sulkiness, but neither would I
pretend to feel that which I did not.

And so the service began. The beautiful words flowed on, ringing through
the sunlit. Holy place in the vicar’s deep tones. I think I made a silent
prayer that perhaps one day, the vow I took now would cease to be the
mockery it was.

I understood the feelings of numerous girls and women who had stood thus,
at a stranger’s side, a man chosen by her parents and who had to promise
to ‘love, honour and obey’ him until death.

The service seemed to be over very quickly and we were stepping into the
bright sunlight once more, now as man and wife. I smiled and acknowledged
the greetings of our guests and the villagers, but though I felt Bassett’s
eyes upon me from time to time, not once would I glance in his direction.
The only acknowledgement I made of his presence, in fact, was my hand upon
his arm.

The next few hours were to me a blur of faces, a cacophony of voices
wishing us happiness, and a mountain of food at the grand banquet little
of which I felt like eating.

Bassett had decided that we should not leave the estate for a honeymoon,
for there was a great deal of work on hand for him with the harvesting of
his lands. We were merely to take up immediate residence in the suite of
rooms which had been redecorated and furnished as our own home. Though,
naturally, Bassett, as unofficial master of Courtney, would continue to
direct his business from his study—the hub of the Courtney estate.

I had never in my life seen such grandeur as was displayed at my wedding.
The Courtneys had certainly spared no expense, neither had the guests, it
seemed, in their dress.

Millicent looked really beautiful for she wore a gown of midnight blue
satin, the slim fitting accentuating her tiny waist. The dark colour
enhanced her fragile, fair beauty. Though I knew I looked as well as I
could in my wedding dress, I could not help feeling inferior beside
Millicent. I wondered whether or not Bassett was making a comparison and
realising how much more justice Millicent would have done to my gown.
Perhaps, even now, he might be regretting his hasty decision.