The Brigadier's Daughter (5 page)

‘Thank you, kind sir.' She smiled, her hands clasped as she waited for him to depart, but he seemed in no hurry to go. He was quite tall; she had to tilt her head back to look up at him, and the late afternoon sun beaming in through the glass fanlight above the front door gilded his blond hair and shone a light in his dark blue eyes. He was certainly a most handsome man, she sighed inwardly, watching as he shrugged on his coat over broad shoulders.

‘I shall see you all tomorrow evening, then.'

‘Oh?' Sasha frowned, puzzled.

‘Christmas Eve,' he reminded her.

‘Of course.' She felt her cheeks heat with a pink blush, and wondered why she always made the impression, with this man, of being a ninny.

‘Goodbye, Miss Packard.'

‘Goodbye, Captain Bowen.'

He bowed and walked to the door, and then turned back and called out in Russian, ‘Until tomorrow.'

She smiled and nodded.
‘Da.'
Her heart was aflutter, hardly daring to believe that a man like Captain Bowen would even look at her. Not when Georgia was about.

 

Christmas was always a special occasion in the Packard home, and that afternoon on the Eve the four sisters spent a happy few hours decorating a magnificent tree in the hallway, despite the frosty relations between Sasha and Georgia, who, beneath their father's watchful, frowning gaze, made the pretence that all was well between them. The house smelled pleasantly of pine, roasting turkey and plum pudding, and great boughs of holly
and ivy were strewn in garlands about the walls and stairs and over the mantel of the fireplace. The girls had decorated oranges with cloves and ribbons to make fragrant pomanders, and hung them all about the drawing room and hallway. Presents had been wrapped and placed under the tree and by four o'clock they had hurried to their rooms to dress for the evening's festivities.

 

When Sasha came downstairs, wearing an emerald-green, off-the-shoulder evening gown and her hair swept elegantly up, she went into the drawing room and checked that all was ready for their guests. A great silver punchbowl with mulled red wine steamed gently by the dancing flames of the fireplace, and a table covered with a snowy-white cloth was being stacked by one of the maids with plates of fresh-baked mince pies, and small silver dishes of dried figs, nuts and pink Turkish delight.

The Brigadier carried his wife downstairs and settled her on the chaise longue near the fire, with a rug over her lap. If it was up to him, he was quite content to spend the evening with just himself and the girls. Yet he knew how Olga loved company and so he had invited a dozen friends to dinner, including Avery Westfaling, to whom he was distantly related, although he had little liking for his wife and offspring. Lady Westfaling had a doubtful pedigree and he considered her to be a loose woman, and her son certainly seemed to have inherited her less attractive traits, being fickle and vain. Why, the boy would squander his inheritance before he was thirty and no daughter of his was going to get involved with a fellow like that!

The guests began to arrive bearing gifts, and the sisters were taking turns to receive these and place them under the Christmas tree in the hallway. The drawing room was warm and noisy with the gathering, the hubbub of chattering voices interspersed with laughter. Olga was surrounded by her favourite friends, who remarked on how well she looked and would she soon be out in the park taking the air? The Brigadier and Sasha hovered nearby, anxious that she not be overexerted by the evening. When Lodge
came in to announce that dinner was served, Olga refused to be carried, insisting that she could manage to walk the few steps down the corridor to the dining room.

The long table was beautifully set, with a white tablecloth, silver candelabra, sparkling cut-crystal wine glasses and a splendid centrepiece of winter fruit, berries and flowers. Olga had deliberated long and carefully over the seating, and she had placed herself and the Brigadier at either end with Sasha seated next to Felix, Georgia next to Captain Bowen, Philippa beside the son of a Scottish friend and Victoria, still very young, between Percy and another friend she knew well. They were eighteen sitting down, and Olga looked down the table as she sat at one end, her gaze pausing on each of her daughters, a proud glow adding to her satisfaction.

Sasha was disgruntled about the dinner partner she had been placed with, but she enjoyed herself far more than expected. Felix was in a good mood and she could not help but laugh at his jokes and silly conversation; really, he was such a featherbrain that it was no wonder he and Georgia were so drawn to each other. Like two peas in a pod, they were. She glanced down the table at Georgia as she sat next to Captain Bowen. She thought her sister seemed a little pensive, and she wondered what her father had said to Georgia in the library yesterday. Glancing down the table as she finished her salmon pâté, she noticed that Georgia was listening attentively to Captain Bowen, but was not her usual bright and bubbly self. Sasha felt a pang, and made up her mind to bury the hatchet and make amends with Georgia as soon as possible. Why, there was no man on earth worthy of coming between sisters!

After dinner they returned to the drawing room, where Sasha sat down at the piano and played Christmas carols, the guests gathering around and singing in good voice, liberally loosened by the fine wines enjoyed over dinner. They played charades, enjoyed coffee and mince pies, and then those who were willing to accompany the family to midnight mass donned their coats.
They were a mere few, the Westfalings, except for the son, and most others, declining and departing for their warms beds at home. So it was only Felix, Uncle Percy, Captain Bowen and two fellow officers who accompanied the Brigadier and his two eldest daughters to church, while the officers' wives and the two younger girls stayed behind to keep Olga company.

The Church of St Ann was not far, and they walked in muffled silence, well wrapped up in coats, scarves, hats and gloves. The church bells of St Ann's clanged with dull resonance amidst a fine flurry of snow drifting through the darkness, blanketing the night. The double doors stood open, welcoming the faithful, a golden light spilling out on the street. The vicar's wife was handing out hymn books as they entered, and then they followed the Brigadier to the front of the church, and Sasha found herself standing between her father and Captain Bowen, the former frowning and twisting about to see where Georgia had got to. She was in a pew several rows to the rear, near the door, standing with Felix with as angelic a look upon her face as the alabaster figurine of Mary in the Nativity scene to one side of the altar. Sasha sensed her father's wrath rise rapidly, and she put a soothing hand on his sleeve. But with Captain Bowen standing so close, neither of them could utter a censorious word.

The organ creaked and groaned into the first hymn, and Sasha fumbled to find the page. She was a little short-sighted and peered at the board hanging on one pillar, the numbers slightly blurred.

‘Number fifty-two,' Captain Bowen whispered in her ear, leaning down.

She flashed a smile of thanks and then found the page and began to sing. Beside her she noticed that the Captain had a very pleasant baritone voice, and not too loud, unlike her father, who consistently embarrassed his daughters as he bellowed out hymns, tone deaf and oblivious to that fact. She noticed, too, that her father was not the only one glancing over his shoulder at Georgia, and it irked her that Captain Bowen should be so
easily smitten by her sister's shallow charms. She began to rapidly revise her intentions about making up with Georgia, but relented as the vicar's sermon rattled on about Christmas being a time for forgiveness and new beginnings.

After the service, the congregation exchanged greetings and well wishes.

‘Happy Christmas.' Captain Bowen leaned down and kissed Sasha on the cheek.

She thought how nice he smelled, how warm his face felt against her own as his lips quickly brushed her cheek, the hint of bronze stubble on his jaw a rough and yet not unpleasant sensation. Then she turned to her father and hugged him, wishing him happy Christmas, too, and she followed him as they filed out of the church. Georgia was waiting on the steps for them, but Felix had melted away into the night. The Brigadier said nothing, merely accepted Georgia's wishes, her voice and her eyes apprehensive, and then the party trudged through the thick snow back to the house.

Though the hour was late, they gathered in the drawing room for welcome cups of hot chocolate, the men lacing theirs with brandy. With fewer guests, and those being close friends and family, there was a more relaxed air. Victoria sat in her slippers in front of the hearth, at the foot of her mother's sofa, and Uncle Percy loosened his bow tie as he sat back in an armchair. Feigning a snooze, he watched his nephew, and the delightful Georgia, and the equally charming, though entirely different, Sasha. At last the party came to an end, the Brigadier hinting that his wife was very tired and wishing them all a very happy Christmas Day as he waved the guests goodbye from the front door.

 

Reid and his uncle settled in their seats as their carriage took off, the light and warmth of Roseberry Street a loss they both felt as they plunged into the dark streets.

‘Do stay the night, Reid, no sense in continuing across
London to your mess rooms. Besides, you would only need to come back again in a few hours for lunch.'

Reid laughed, and nodded his agreement. ‘Very well, Uncle, as you wish.'

After a few moments' silence Uncle Percy said, ‘Charming people, the Packards. Did you enjoy yourself?'

‘They are, indeed, and, yes, I enjoyed a very pleasant evening.'

‘Superb meal.'

Reid nodded, and glanced sideways. ‘Is there something on your mind, Uncle?'

‘Indeed.' He hesitated for a brief moment. ‘Charming girls, Georgia and Sasha.'

‘They are.'

‘Made up your mind yet which one of 'em you want?'

Laughing, Reid shook his head. ‘I don't believe I have.'

Uncle Percy made a grunting noise. ‘I noticed young Felix Westfaling sniffing around Georgia. I'd pop the question to her fairly soon, before the rascal snaps her up.'

‘He'd have to get past the Brigadier first, and somehow I don't think Westfaling is up to the job.'

His uncle made another throaty rumble of disapproval. ‘Well, time is marching on, dear boy, time is marching on.'

S
asha retired to her bedroom, weary and yet glowing pleasantly after the enjoyable evening. She undressed and put on her nightgown, sitting down on the edge of her bed to brush out her long dark hair when she heard a small sound. Her hand hesitated, as it swept downwards, and then she rose from the bed and crept to the closed door connecting her room and Georgia's. Placing her ear close to the panels, she listened and heard the soft, muffled sounds of weeping. Quietly, Sasha opened the door and hurried to her sister, who lay prostrate across her bed, crying bitterly. She knelt and laid her hand on Georgia's shoulder, asking gently, ‘Dearest, whatever is the matter?'

‘Oh, Sasha!' Turning around, Georgia threw herself into Sasha's embrace, sobbing against her shoulder, all thoughts of rivalry banished. ‘Papa has forbidden me to see Felix again. Not ever!'

‘Shh,' Sasha soothed, stroking her sister's hair. ‘What do you mean, he's forbidden you? Is that why he asked to speak to you in the library?'

Georgia nodded, disengaging herself and mopping at her eyes, sniffing loudly. ‘Papa says he is very disappointed with me and this “association” with Felix must cease at once. Appar
ently Captain Bowen has mentioned our little meeting in the park, and then tonight Papa did not approve of me sitting with Felix in church and he gave me another telling off.' With a gulp, Georgia began to cry again. ‘Oh, Sasha, how can I bear it? I do love him so!'

Sasha rose from the floor and sat down on the bed next to her. ‘Of course you do, he is the best of fathers and is always wise about our welfare.'

‘Not Papa!' wailed Georgia. ‘Felix! I love Felix! I couldn't bear to live without him!'

Inwardly Sasha sighed, nonplussed in the face of Georgia's stubbornness. She had no doubt that their papa was right and that Georgia's attachment to Felix would have to end, sooner or later. She was fairly certain that Felix did not have any plans for marriage and Georgia would only have her heart broken. Picking up her sister's hand, she stroked the back of it, her voice soft and gently encouraging. ‘I know it hurts, but with time you will forget all about Felix. Just as you thought Hamish wasn't any good for me, so Papa is convinced that Felix isn't any good for you.' Glancing at Georgia, she could see the doubt and confusion warring on her face, blotchy red from crying but still beautiful, and hurried to press on. ‘Why don't you try, just for a little while? Test how strong your feelings really are for Felix, and his for you? Why don't you do as Papa asks, just for now, and—' though she felt a little stab of pain herself at her own words, she ventured onwards ‘—and maybe even enjoy the attentions of Captain Bowen.'

‘Oh, that man! I hate him! Conniving, sneaky wretch!'

‘He seems to like you.' Sasha hoped the painful note in her voice was not apparent.

With a little disparaging snort Georgia shook her head and turned up her nose.

Gently Sasha persisted, as always putting her sister first before her own feelings and desires, adding gently, ‘He's a reputable man, and very handsome.'

‘Felix is much better looking.'

‘Captain Bowen would make a good husband.'

‘He's too old.'

‘Only thirty-three.'

Dabbing her nose on a square of lawn handkerchief, more in command of herself now, Georgia retorted, ‘Well, if he's so wonderful, why don't you marry him?'

That little stab of pain somewhere in the region of her heart was now suddenly more intense, but Sasha merely lowered her eyelashes and refrained from admitting that if she could, she would, replying softly, ‘Come now, Georgia, it would do Felix no harm at all if you kept your distance for a few weeks. Let Captain Bowen pay court to you.'

‘No, never!'

‘Don't make any judgements, dearest, just sit back and let whatever happens, happen. You never know, you might be able to look at things differently then.'

Georgia was not entirely convinced, yet with more gentle persuasion Sasha at last secured a promise from her sister that, just for a few weeks, she would not engineer any secret meetings with Felix. For all her faults and failings, Georgia always kept her word.

 

Once Christmas Day and Boxing Day were over—quiet family affairs spent opening presents and visiting relatives—there came a few days of rest before the hectic round of balls and dinner parties to see out the old year and welcome in the new. Captain Bowen singled Georgia out at many of these parties, dancing with her frequently, sitting with her in between and talking. They did seem to enjoy each other's company, Sasha noticed, watching as Georgia laughed, not with the same exuberance as she would with Felix, but perhaps it was high time that Georgia acquired some maturity and capped her youthful effervescence into a less fizzy yet just as delightful charm.

Though Captain Bowen was equally polite to her, Sasha, and
danced one or two dances and entered into conversation with her, he did not make her the object of his pursuit. It became obvious to her, and others, that Captain Bowen was courting her sister. She could not at once understand the feelings that jolted her, and thought that the unpleasant sense of envy would quickly evaporate, for how could she not be happy for her sister to be courted by such an eligible bachelor? Why, he was such a contrast to Felix, who was young, fickle, had dark rumours attached to his name regarding the dismissal and unexpected pregnancy of a young governess and only seemed to bring out the worst in Georgia. No, indeed, Sasha mused, Captain Bowen would steady Georgia and be a good influence on her.

 

On a Sunday afternoon at the end of January, after several weeks of calling, escorting Georgia to the park, the theatre, dances and dinner parties, after luncheon had been cleared and the gentlemen had retired to the library, Captain Bowen asked permission of the Brigadier to marry his daughter. He quietly agreed.

Yet it was not until Valentine's Day that Captain Bowen called upon Georgia, bringing her the obligatory bouquet of roses and a box of chocolates, and formally asked her to marry him.

They were in the conservatory, and the Brigadier had deliberately allowed them to be alone, having waited some two weeks now for an announcement, and a small furrow of anxiety had begun to crease his brow at the lack of one. It was a bright day, the sunshine slanting through the glass and the aroma of orchids and potted palms pleasant enough in the warm humidity of the conservatory. Yet Georgia stood by a window and looked out, her face sombre, her eyes straying across the rooftops of London, to a place far away and only seen in her most private thoughts.

‘Georgia?' Captain Bowen took a step towards her, a diamond engagement ring clutched in his fist.

After a long moment, she turned around and gave him a sorrowful glance.

‘Well?' he prompted. ‘Will you?'

Her silence was unusual, then she smiled and looked up at him, ‘Are you sure you have asked the right sister, Captain Bowen?'

‘What?' He frowned.

‘Have you not considered that Sasha would make you a much better wife than I?'

‘I— I—' The self-assured soldier was momentarily confused. It was not the response he had been expecting.

‘Sasha is clever, she's brave and always knows just how to behave. Do you not think Sasha is quite attractive?'

Captain Bowen squared his shoulders, and thought he understood Georgia's hesitation. The sisters were very close, and he had given some of his attention to Sasha, perhaps causing some confusion. He took a step closer to Georgia, raised her chin with his thumb and forefinger, telling her quite firmly, ‘You are a very beautiful young woman. You're strong, intelligent and resourceful. That is why I have chosen you, and I assure you, Georgia, that it
is
you that I want.'

Suddenly anxious that he was about to make protestations of love and kiss her, Georgia pulled away. She returned to her former stance by the window, looking out, her eyes lifted to the blue of the heavens. What use was offering up another prayer, when none of the others had been answered? Felix had been furious when she had ignored him, flirting with several other eligible young ladies, and she had heard on the grapevine that he had taken himself off to his family estate in Scotland to do some shooting. She had wanted to contact him, by letter or telegram, but Sasha had insisted that it was out of the question, not becoming of a lady or some such nonsense. She had thought Felix would soon come back to her, would perhaps even challenge Captain Bowen's suit, but it seemed he had not loved her as much as she thought. His mama had quite loudly announced at a luncheon of his intention to stay in Scotland for some long while, something to do with the novel idea of establishing a
whisky distillery on the family estate and how good it would be for him away from any ‘distractions'. The only option now was to forget all about Felix, and change her life for ever, so that nothing would be the same and there would be no memory of happiness to break her heart. She turned then, impulsively taking a deep breath, and held out her hand. ‘Very well, Captain Bowen. I will marry you.'

He breathed a sigh of relief, and promptly slid the very expensive diamond-and-gold ring on her finger. He leaned down to kiss her, aiming for her mouth, but at the last moment she moved aside and his lips landed on her cheek. She pulled away and though he would not have credited Georgia Packard as being coy, he felt it only natural for a young lady to be slightly overwhelmed by a proposal and acceptance of marriage.

He filled the awkward moment by saying, ‘Shall we tell your family?'

Georgia nodded, and they walked together to the drawing room, her arm linked through the crook of his. The family were all expectantly gathered and the moment they walked through the door Lady Packard glanced at the glinting diamond on her daughter's finger and gave a little cry, holding open her arms to embrace the supposedly happy couple. The Brigadier shook hands with his future son-in-law, and Georgia's sisters all came to give her a kiss and hug of congratulations. Sasha held her a moment longer than necessary, and drew back slightly to look at her sister keenly. In reply to the unspoken question in Sasha's dark eyes, Georgia merely smiled.

‘We shall go at once and call upon the vicar,' said the Brigadier, striding to the door, and then paused for a moment as he eyed Captain Bowen. ‘I trust you have no objection that Georgia is married from her own home and at the Church of St Ann?'

‘No, sir, of course not. I have no family of my own, apart from Uncle Percy. My parents and my elder brother all died in a sailing accident off the Isle of Wight when I was a young boy.'

The Brigadier stared at his feet and murmured his condo
lences, then he looked up and said in a brighter tone, ‘I gather your plans to sail for St Petersburg at the end of April still hold fast?'

‘Indeed. It has been impressed upon me by the Foreign Office that I should not fail to make that sailing. They are expecting me at the Embassy as soon as may be.'

‘Very good. That means we have just under two months to plan this wedding.' The Brigadier almost rubbed his hands with glee, relishing the challenge of achieving a tricky objective and clearly about to apply all his military expertise to the task.

Sasha and Georgia exchanged a nervous glance, yet already the wheels of a fast-moving train were greased and rolling into action. They were all aboard and as the days flew swiftly by and the train picked up speed, it seemed impossible for anyone to even think about jumping off.

That night it was Sasha who lay upon her bed and cried, but her tears were silent ones that dripped from the corners of her eyes and soaked unseen into her pillow. She chided and reminded herself that it had never been a reality that Captain Bowen would desire her, merely her own little fantasy. Now was no time to be moping and feeling sorry for herself; she knew how much Georgia, strangely pale and listless for a bride-to-be, would need her love and support in the next few weeks.

 

Georgia would be married at eleven o'clock on the twenty-ninth of April. After the wedding ceremony there would be a luncheon in the Officer's Mess of the Light Dragoons for a hundred guests, and then the happy couple would depart for their ship and set sail for Russia on the evening tide.

The invitations were ordered and sent without delay, and Lady Packard set about enjoying herself as she had not done for many years, poring over dressmaker patterns for Georgia's wedding gown, choosing the material, the ribbons and pearls, the shoes, the veil, and stockings and garter, even the nightgown Georgia would wear to bed. She chose the flowers for the church,
posies of pink tulips, cream carnations, baby's breath and ivy to decorate the pew ends, and several large and lavish floral displays to stand on either side of the altar. The colour theme was cream, pink and lilac, which Sasha pointed out would clash horribly with Captain Bowen's bright red military mess dress. Her mother merely shrugged, murmuring that there would be many guests in different military uniforms and they could not be expected to colour coordinate for all of them, surely?

The sisters would all be Georgia's bridesmaids, and their gowns, in palest pink, were also made by the French seamstress creating the bride's. The wedding cake was ordered, five tiers of ornately decorated rich fruit cake, the champagne and the food agreed with the Officer's Mess,
bon-bonnières
of fine net and sugared almonds ordered as gifts for the ladies on the tables, and hymns were agreed with the organist at the church.

 

The days melted one into the other, and it alarmed Georgia how quickly time seemed to fly. The dark cold days of winter had ended and there was now a warmth and brightness to each day, the evenings more pleasant as dusk lingered, and the gardens were brightened by shy snowdrops and nodding yellow daffodils. Captain Bowen called less frequently, much to Georgia's relief, and when he did suggest a ride in the park, or lunch at a nearby hotel, she always made sure that Sasha came along, too. He seemed much preoccupied with his forthcoming posting to Russia, and now that he had settled the matter of a wife, he saw no need to make a nuisance of himself. Sasha was somewhat chagrined to watch as the now-engaged couple seemed to have little to say to one another. She did not like to mention to Georgia that surely there should be some emotion if she was to spend the rest of her life with this man, share his bed and give birth to his children. Yet she could not say such a thing to Georgia, all too aware how fragile she was, and how much she pined for Felix. On most nights she could hear the telltale sniffs and nose-blowing that indicated Georgia was weeping in the privacy
of her own bedroom. She ached for her sister, and there were many moments when she felt guilty for persuading her to allow Captain Bowen to court her.