Three Graces (7 page)

Carys watched in amazement as they stood hugging one another, a happy tangle of limbs, their laughter bouncing off the golden stone of Amberley’s porch.

‘God, it’s good to see you,’ Richard laughed.

‘It’s good to be home. Honestly, Richie, I couldn’t get away fast enough when I heard your news.’

‘Phoebe,’ Richard said, finally disengaging himself. ‘Come and meet Carys.’

‘Carys?’ Phoebe all but yelled across the driveway. And Carys suddenly found herself the recipient of a bear hug.

‘It’s so good to meet you,’ Phoebe said, leaning back so that Carys could get a good look at her. She had the same porcelain skin and dark eyes as her mother and sister and her hair was dark and left to spring around her shoulders in gentle waves. But she had the most wonderful expression. She positively glittered with enthusiasm and Carys found it completely infectious.

‘I can’t believe Richie’s found someone brave enough to take him on,’ Phoebe said, leaning in towards Carys and whispering conspiratorially. ‘You do know what you’re letting yourself in for, don’t you?’

Carys smiled. ‘I think so.’

‘Well, anyway, I’m here now. So I’ll make sure he looks after you.’

‘You’re staying?’ Richard asked, carrying his sister’s bags into the house.

‘For a while. Until I decide what to do next.’

‘That’s my family for you,’ he told Carys. ‘They’re like homing pigeons. They fly off into the world but, invariably, return to Amberley.’

‘I don’t see the point of a family owning a place like this if they can’t make use of it,’ Phoebe said.

‘Me too,’ Carys said. ‘And I’ll be glad to have your company.’

‘Anyway, that’s your role, big bro.’

‘To stay at home and work like a dog whilst the rest of you swan off round the world?’

‘Absolutely,’ Phoebe laughed. ‘It’s only fair.’

‘How on earth do you work that out?’

‘Because you get to inherit all this one day. So, I figure, you’ve got to earn it.’

Richard shook his head as he led the way through the hallway into the family drawing room. Phoebe linked arms with Carys and sighed.

‘It’s so good to be back!’ She craned her head back and grinned with delight. ‘You know, it’s the silly things you miss when you’ve been away.’

‘You make it sound as if you’ve been to the moon,’ Richard teased.

‘France is far enough from Amberley for me, thank you very much.’

‘What did you miss?’ Carys asked, curious to know.

Phoebe smiled. ‘The smell of old wellies in the hallway. The curve of the driveway and the first view of Amberley you get. The copies of
Cuthland Life
in the downstairs loo.’

Carys laughed.

‘And DIZZY!’ Phoebe suddenly shouted as the dog sprinted through the room, tail cork-spiralling out of control in excitement. And Carys could see now why she’d been given that name. She was full of life and warmth and enthusiasm - just like her owner.

Richard and Carys watched in delight as Phoebe cavorted with Dizzy on the floor. It was hard to tell who was the more excited.

‘Now, I really feel as if I’m home,’ Phoebe said, smiling up from the carpet, a wild tail whacking her in the face.

For somebody who’d never envisioned being a bride, Carys hadn’t done too badly: there were over six hundred guests in Carminster Cathedral, and a huge crowd of locals and tourists outside to see what was happening.

Arriving in an beautiful Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, her good friend, Duncan, the man who was giving her away, suddenly forgot his own nerves and became a pillar of strength, leading her to the great west door where she had no less than five bridesmaids: Richard’s sisters, Phoebe and Serena, her best friend, Louise, and Richard’s two daughters, Cecily and Evelyn, all wearing dresses the colour of bluebells in a floaty fabric which danced in the slightest breeze. Their bouquets were full of blush-pink summer roses and Cecily and Evie wore a pretty halo of matching roses.

For five minutes, they all just stared, smiling and cooing at their collective beauty.

‘Hey!’ Duncan said at last. ‘Shouldn’t we be getting married?’

Dresses were quickly fluffed, trains and tiaras straightened and smiles were fixed into place. And then it began - the slow walk.

A bride, she’d read in one of the many magazines she’d leafed through over the past weeks, should have no misgivings when walking down the aisle towards her husband-to-be. Carys took a deep breath. How many had she counted the night before? She was worried about leaving her job, worried about becoming a second wife, worried about her new role as a step-mother, worried about her role as daughter-in-law to the formidable duke and duchess, worried about being able to fit in at Amberley, and worried about her future role as marchioness and duchess. How many was that? One, two, three, four, five, SIX! Oh, dear! Was that normal or should she turn and run? Surely it was too late now. There were over six hundred pairs of eyes watching her.

A comforting pat on the hand from Duncan restored a little of her faith. Had he felt her panic there for a moment?

Carys didn’t dare look at anything but the few feet of aisle in front of her. She only knew a handful of people anyway as her family was so small. There’d be her mother and Aunt Josephine somewhere at the front and a handful of cousins she hadn’t seen for years. There were plenty of people from the office, of course, but it was a bit of a poor turnout when you compared her guests to those who’d been on Richard’s list. She’d never seen so many titles in her life. There were dukes and duchesses, earls and countesses, barons and honorables, lords and ladies. It was a whole level of society she had no knowledge of. Seeing them all now via periphery vision, she wondered how many Richard actually knew or, more to the point, how many he actually liked. Did they all get on or was there some unwritten code which stated that you couldn’t have a wedding without them? She knew that only a select few of them would be coming back to Amberley for the reception and dinner but it seemed like an extraordinary waste of money to Carys. She would have been quite happy with a simple ceremony for their nearest and dearest but, apparently, that wasn’t fitting for a future duke and duchess.

But it was a beautiful ceremony. It may have passed by in a blur of happiness but Carys would never forget the look of tenderness in Richard’s eyes or the smell of the lilies by the altar. She’d never forget the gentle way he placed the slim gold ring on her finger or the way he kissed her so sweetly when they were pronounced husband and wife.

After that, it was back to Amberley where there was a reception in the Great Hall. The florist had created great billowing displays of pink and white roses and the cavernous space smelt heavenly.

Richard took her arm and led her upstairs to the Long Gallery. The room was alive with lilies and roses, and candles had been lit, their light reflecting in the crystal glasses. Carys had never seen anything so beautiful. She sat down with Richard and watched as the guests found their seats. Excited chatter filled the room and her eyes travelled the length of the table. She surprised herself by remembering quite a few of the faces that she’d greeted as they’d arrived. There was the gentleman who’d fondled her fingers. There was the woman who’d complimented her on her dress. And there was the little old lady in indigo. What was it she’d told Carys? She frowned. Think. It was something ridiculous. Something which had almost made her laugh out loud. Ah, yes, she remembered.

‘You know why the last one left, don’t you?’

Carys had responded with a look of puzzlement.

‘She was scared off,’ the old lady had said, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Carys felt sure the old lady meant that Amanda hadn’t been able to cope with being mistress of such a huge house. But she hadn’t.

‘She was
haunted out!
’ the old lady had said. ‘Amberley Court is haunted, you know.’

Dear Diary

I’ve never kept a diary before in my life but, seeing as this was a wedding present from Francesca, I’ve decided to give it a go.

I still find it hard to believe that I’m a married woman. After a wedding night in the West Turret Bedroom at Amberley - another Bretton tradition - we journeyed up to the Highlands to Glentorran Lodge. It was wonderful if chilly. I was trying desperately not to think of girlfriends who’ve honeymooned in Barbados, the Seychelles and Hawaii, and content myself with miles of violet heather and a wind that did its best to skin me alive. And I tried not to think about scuba diving in crystal waters and sunbathing on sugared sand, and threw myself into ten-mile hikes.

When we got back to Amberley, we were greeted by Cecily and Evie. I say greeted, but I still haven’t experienced anything approaching warmth with Cecily. Evie is an absolute sweetheart, though, and presented me with a beautiful bunch of flowers from the estate.

It’s taken me a while to settle in because I’m still not sure how I’m to fit in at Amberley. Richard and I have our quarters and the duke and duchess have theirs but there doesn’t seem to be any guidelines as to what to do about the space in between. It’s not as though I’d wander around the house in my nightie, and I know it’s best to avoid the public rooms when they’re open but I don’t feel entirely comfortable using the other rooms. The Yellow Drawing Room off the hallway is fine. I don’t feel that I have to be on my best behaviour there, sitting ramrod straight in case Richard’s mother walks in. I don’t know what it is about her but she makes me feel slightly - maybe I shouldn’t say. It might be wrong to write down my true feelings about her in a diary she bought for me. She might feel she has the right to read it and then I’ll be discovered!!!

Carys closed the diary and stretched her arms and got up from the sofa where she’d been writing and walked over to the window which looked out towards the woods at the back of Amberley Court.

The house was curiously quiet and Carys wondered if it was always like this. The girls were with their tutor for their lessons and Richard’s brother and sisters had also vanished, and she’d seen very little of Richard’s parents too which was a shame because she’d really hoped that she’d bond with Francesca and that she’d give her some sort of informal induction into the business of being a new wife at Amberley. But it was clear that they were to lead separate lives under the same enormous roof.

Looking out of the window, the sun smiling down from a clear blue sky, Carys thought she’d do some exploring - outside. Richard had given her a quick tour of the estate after returning from Scotland but it wouldn’t be quite the same as exploring it herself. He’d also told her she should spend her first few weeks redecorating their private apartments but she didn’t feel like flicking through magazines and catalogues today. It was the sort of day that demanded you spent it outdoors and, venturing downstairs, she determined to do just that.

She was just wondering if she should put on a pair of boots when Mrs Travis, the housekeeper walked into the hallway.

‘Good morning, Lady Amberley.’

Carys winced slightly at the use of her title. She still hadn’t got used to it.

‘Good morning,’ she replied trying, at least, to sound like a lady even if she didn’t yet feel like one.

‘Lord Amberley thought, perhaps, you might like to take charge of the dog walking, my lady. If you were going outside?’

‘Dog walking?’ Carys exclaimed. She hadn’t planned on that. She’d just wanted a nice little stroll around the estate.

‘Yes,’ Mrs Travis went on. ‘There are five dogs and they like two or three good walks a day and-’

‘
Five
?’ Carys said, feeling very much like Maria in
The Sound of Music
when she’s told how many Von Trapp children she’ll be looking after. She’d heard about the great number of dogs the Brettons had but had conveniently forgotten about them. They were, she assumed, somebody else’s responsibility.

‘Lord Amberley thought it would be most enjoyable for you.’

‘He did, did he?’ she said. What a coward he was, she thought. He hadn’t dared raise the subject with her directly because he’d known she’d have shot him down. ‘But I don’t have that many hands. How will I hold on to them all?’ she asked, imagining a circus of crazy arms as she struggled to control five hounds.

‘You don’t need leads. Just take them out into the park. They’ll follow wherever you take them but be sure they don’t get into the deer park, especially Dolly. She likes to bolt every now and then. Here,’ Mrs Travis said, digging into a voluminous pocket, ‘take this whistle.’

Carys looked down at the tiny mettle object which was her only means of controlling five unruly dogs.

‘I’ve never owned a dog.’

‘Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. It’s a piece of cake.’

Carys gave a nervous smile, thinking she’d sooner stay indoors with a piece of cake.

‘And Lord A thought it would be an excellent way to get to know the estate,’ Mrs Travis added, seeing that Carys needed further encouragement. ‘Badger, that’s the black and white cocker, is getting on a bit now and might lag behind but he’s fine. Just let him go at his own pace. Foxy, the golden cocker has a habit of trying to disappear down rabbit holes. Thinks she’s a terrier. Drag her out by her collar. Dizzy’s no bother - runs ahead and does her own spaniel thing, and Mungo, the Labrador, is an angel. He’d walk by your side if you took him over hot coals.’

Carys took a deep breath. ‘So,’ she said, ‘where are they?’

Without any warning, Mrs Travis suddenly yelled, ‘DOGGIES!’ and the thunderous sound of paws across floorboards was heard. Where they’d all been, Carys could only guess but they knew Mrs Travis’s voice when they heard it and were standing in the hallway at full attention in no time.

‘Right,’ Carys said. ‘Dolly, Dizzy, Badger, Foxy and Mungo,’ she said, pointing out to each of her new walking companions in turn. ‘Sure there aren’t any more?’

‘Not at the moment but you never can tell. His grace has been thinking about getting a couple of pointers but-’