Charlotte said, "I've been thinking ... I believe it would be better for the Swanns to stay on the sidelines for the moment."

"I'm not sure I understand," Alice said, leaning against the gate.

"Ceci said that Hugo was ogling Daphne; that was the word she used. It doesn't really mean anything, does it? Men ogle women all the time."

"That's true ... you said you thought it was love at first sight, though," Alice remarked, giving her a very direct look.

"Yes, because Ceci said Hugo had a look of longing on his face. Maybe I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

Alice bit her lip. "I understand, but you know she can't get involved with him on any level, Charlotte, not in her condition. My G.o.d, what if he somehow found out ... discovered our secret? That would be disastrous!"

"You're up at the house all the time, handling the clothes, and I shall be there more often. Charlie asked me to do some secretarial work for him. We'll just have to keep our eyes wide open, Alice, and mostly focused on Daphne."

"Yes, you're right. It's the only thing we can do really."

A reflective look crossed Charlotte's face, and she said quietly, "When I had a problem, or David had a problem, and we couldn't solve it, he'd just shrug and say, Life usually takes care of itself.' And in this instance, I suppose we must have that same att.i.tude. Let's just leave it alone, and let life take care of itself."

Alice reached out, touched her arm affectionately. "That's right, we just have to wait and see what happens. You could be right, maybe it was love at first sight. Then we'll be in a pickle, won't we?"

Charlotte shook her head. "Not necessarily," she murmured, and gave Alice a knowing look.

Twenty-six.

Felicity knew within the first few minutes that the supper dance was going to be a great success. First her three eldest daughters, and then her two sons, had exclaimed about the beauty of the rooms in the South Wing, as they arrived in the pale green drawing room. And now Hugo was doing exactly the same.

"I don't know how you managed to do it, but you've turned the green drawing room into a fantastic garden, Felicity," Hugo said, glancing around. "It's quite magical, Charles, isn't it? And so are the other two rooms."

Her husband smiled, nodded, and looked pleased, but made no comment, because he knew as well as she did that she had not had anything to do with it.

Swiftly, Felicity explained, "I can't take any bows, Hugo, and neither can Charles, for that matter. Hanson and Mrs. Thwaites had the foresight to clear the three main public rooms. They moved some pieces of furniture into various bedrooms, and then the gardeners took over. They brought in the plants and flowers that bedeck this room, the pink dining room, and the blue drawing room as well."

"And that room looks fantastic, too, Mama," Guy interjected. "It never occurred to me that it could be turned into a ballroom. But it works perfectly. It's just the right size. Now we'll know for the next time."

Felicity smiled. "Thank you, but as I said, I can't take any accolades this time."

Diedre had been glancing around for a moment or two, and now she said, "I love the way this room looks, Mama. It's like a ... painting, yes, that's it. All the colors work together. The pink peonies, the white roses, the blue delphiniums and foxgloves all blend well together. It's very artistically done. I didn't think Bill Swann had that kind of talent. I know he's the head landscape gardener, but this is..." Her voice trailed off when she saw her father staring at her curiously, and frowning.

Charles said, "Bill is a good head gardener. However, this room was created by someone with genuine artistic ability. Charlotte Swann built this gorgeous indoor garden, as she often used to do for my father when he was alive. I suddenly remembered that the other day, and Charlotte got to work immediately when I asked her. And you're correct, Diedre, it is like a painting."

"Oh my goodness!" Daphne exclaimed, and they all followed her gaze, saw Dulcie standing in the doorway in her nightgown, her face covered in chocolate, and her hands as well.

"I've come to the party," she said, and smiled at them.

Felicity took a step forward and stopped, looking down at the lavender chiffon gown she was wearing, thinking of the chocolate on her child. Then she shook her head as she saw DeLacy make a move to hurry to Dulcie. "Don't go to her," she said.

"We've either got the greatest escape artist in the world, or we need a new nanny," Charles exclaimed, glancing at Miles. "Go and find Miss Carlton, please, and ask her to come for Dulcie."

"Why don't I just take her to Nanny?" Miles suggested.

"Because somehow she'll manage to get chocolate all over your white shirt and tie," Charles explained, and shook his head, wondering how Dulcie had found her way to the South Wing.

At this moment, much to everyone's relief, Maureen Carlton, the nanny, appeared, looking fl.u.s.tered and upset. "I'm so sorry, your ladyship," she said, addressing Felicity. "I turned my back for a moment and she managed, somehow, to vanish. I'm so very sorry. Really so sorry."

"It's all right, Nanny," Felicity answered in a low voice. "But I think it would be a good idea to scoop her up right now, and take her back to the nursery. Guests are about to arrive at any moment."

"Yes, m'lady," the young woman answered, and swept Dulcie up into her arms; she disappeared as fast as she could.

It was Hugo who broke the silence when he started to chuckle, and soon they were all laughing.

"Thank goodness you didn't go and pick her up, DeLacy," Miles said. "Your rose chiffon frock would have been ruined."

The thought of another ruined frock made DeLacy wince, and she remained silent. The ink-stained white dress would haunt her forever.

Hugo said, "One must admit, she is rather adorable, though."

Charles laughed. "True. And I must admit, I dread to think what she will be like when she's fifteen, and not five."

"Still a little madam, I've no doubt," Diedre muttered.

Great-Aunt Gwendolyn, who was standing next to her, whispered, "Sshhhh, sshhhhh," and drew her across the room toward a bank of lilies.

Hugo heard Diedre, and he quickly jumped into the conversation, when he said, "I must compliment you, Aunt Gwen, you do look wonderful in your royal purple tonight. So do all of you, ladies. Very beautiful indeed."

His eyes lingered a moment too long on Daphne, who was a shimmering sliver of sea colors, in an extraordinary evening gown made entirely of blue, green, and turquoise beads. Her beauty was incomparable.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, he walked swiftly across the room to Felicity, and took hold of her hand, kissed it. "You're as lovely as you were sixteen years ago. Charles is an awfully lucky man, Felicity, awfully lucky indeed. How I envy him."

She smiled, and touched his arm in an affectionate manner, then answered in her low, soft voice, "Thank you, Hugo. You always were very gallant, and hopefully you'll meet a fine woman one day who will become a lovely companion, and your wife perhaps."

"I hope so, yes."

At this moment Hanson arrived, accompanied by two footmen.

Charles looked across at him questioningly. "Are the guests arriving?"

"Yes, my lord, they are. And all at once, it seems."

Felicity sat with Lady Gwendolyn on a sofa at one end of the blue sitting room, which had been transformed into a ballroom.

Furniture had been moved around so that it encircled the room. It was set against the walls, and the large Persian rug had been removed to reveal a wood floor. An array of potted palms, flowering shrubs, and urns of flowers gave the room a garden feeling, as in the pale green drawing room and the rose-pink dining room.

"The supper was particularly delicious," Aunt Gwendolyn said, turning to Felicity, giving her a warm smile. "I must say Cook outdid herself tonight. The salmon mousse was perfect, and I loved the tiny lamb chops. As for the desserts, they were mouthwatering."

"Everything was delicious," Felicity agreed. "And Cook did have the foresight and experience to get in extra help from the village. So it all went smoothly. Altogether, we were sixty-two people at supper, you know. Quite a lot to cook for."

"And most of them now appear to be dancing, and having a grand time. Where did you find this rather good little orchestra?"

"Hanson discovered them in Harrogate, and they are good, I agree with you."

"Daphne has outshone herself tonight, Felicity," Gwendolyn said admiringly. "She looks wonderful, and her dress has caused quite a sensation. She only has to breathe and it shimmers. And this is certainly one time I'm not going to complain that it's blue."

Felicity shot back, "You can't, because it's also got green and turquoise beads in it. It was mine, you know. I had it made in Paris. I always thought it was a rather special piece of haute couture, and I kept it for that reason. Luckily, it fit Daphne perfectly."

Both women gazed at Daphne dancing with her father. Charles enjoyed dancing, and it showed. He moved around the ballroom gracefully, and Daphne was in perfect step with her father. Because they were tall, they looked wonderful together, and seemed to be enjoying themselves.

A silence fell between the two women, and Felicity fell down into her thoughts. Her eyes were focused on Daphne, and for a few moments she was totally mesmerized by the girl's incredible beauty. Unexpectedly her heart clenched when she thought of the rape, and her daughter's terrible dilemma. Their dilemma. They were in this together, the three of them. She was also thankful the Swanns were in the background, to help in any way they could. Daphne needed as much support as possible, and they would all give it to her, get her through. Hopefully her reputation would not be damaged in any way, and she would be able to pick up her life in the early part of 1914.

A rush of overwhelming guilt about many things made Felicity slide further down into herself. This awful guilt invaded her frequently, because she knew she had been overly preoccupied with her sister's illness, and another dire and disturbing problem. She had neglected her family. And yet deep inside herself she knew she couldn't have prevented the rape; she wasn't outside in the bluebell woods when Daphne was so brutally attacked.

She and Charles had seized on the suggestion that Julian Torbett was to blame, and Daphne had done nothing to dissuade them otherwise. And yet Felicity had her doubts, and so did Charles. She had always thought Julian was a bit wishy-washy, and slightly feminine in certain ways.

She stifled a sigh. And what did it matter now? Julian was dead. And if it was some other man who had a.s.saulted her, he was long gone. Far away.

In her opinion, her daughter might easily have been spotted by a poacher, a stranger on the estate ... Aunt Gwendolyn was saying something to her, and Felicity let the thought go.

"I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't quite catch that," she said, turning to Gwendolyn.

"I was asking you if you thought Diedre might be unhappy in some way?"

Frowning, Felicity asked, "Why do you say that?"

"It's just that she has a way of saying odd things," Lady Gwendolyn murmured, and lowered her voice. "Rather mean things. And often people do that when they are discontented."

"She's always been a little acerbic, you know, that's just her way."

Lady Gwendolyn gave Felicity a long, pointed look and said, "I hope it isn't a trait she has inherited from me. I've always been rather acerbic myself, and often had my knuckles rapped for it, I might add."

Before Felicity could answer, Hugo appeared in front of them, looking impossibly handsome in his white tie and tails. "Can I steal my aunt away, Felicity?"

"Of course," she answered, and smiled as he led Gwendolyn onto the dance floor. She couldn't help thinking how graceful and elegant Gwendolyn looked in her purple evening gown and her amazing array of diamonds. Her back was straight and she stepped out with confidence, held in the arms of her nephew.

I hope I'm like her when I'm seventy-two, Felicity thought, and slipped back into her distressing ruminations. One of her main concerns was keeping her own secrets, as well as keeping the secret about Daphne's pregnancy. She realized much of that would have to do with her clothes. They would conceal a lot. Tonight had been the best time for her to wear the slender column of beads, whilst she was still as thin as a reed.

"Mama, may I have this dance, please," Guy said, stepping closer to her, offering her his hand.

"But of course, I'd love it," she replied, and stood up, let him lead her onto the floor and whirl her into a waltz.

Hugo found he could not sleep. He had tossed and turned in his bed for two hours, and finally, in frustration, he got up, put on his dressing gown and slippers, and went downstairs to the library. After switching on the light, he went over to the drinks table and poured himself a large cognac.

After returning to his bedroom, he sat down near a window and sipped the brandy, thinking about Daphne. He was a sophisticated man of the world, and he had certainly behaved as one tonight. He had been the epitome of polished charm and good manners, attentive to all of the women, not only to Daphne. He had danced with them and with her. She had been pleasant and warm. And he had been totally in control of himself. No more schoolboy reactions. However, he did have one reaction to her he did not let show. He had fallen in love with her, and he wanted her for the rest of his life.

Hugo was smart enough to know the situation had to be handled properly and with discretion. He would speak to Charles within the next few days, to ascertain what the situation was with his daughter. He needed to know if she was spoken for.

After another few swallows of the brandy, Hugo stood up to take off his dressing gown. As he did so, he happened to glance out of the window, and then stepped closer. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. There were flames in the stable block. A fire. My G.o.d, the horses, he thought, and rushed out of his room to raise the alarm.

Twenty-seven.

Hugo was horrified when he reached the stable block. The first stall, with Diedre's bra.s.s nameplate on it, was empty except for bales of hay. It was the hay which was burning furiously, the flames shooting up into the night sky, turning it red.

In the next stall, Daphne's horse, Greensleeves, was panicked, rearing up on her hind legs, thrashing at the stall door with her front hooves. The horse was terrified, and Hugo knew he must release it at once. The horse's nostrils were flaring, and there was froth on her mouth.

In the process of trying to lift the latch, Hugo burnt his fingers on the hot metal, but hardly noticed. Someone had wedged a piece of wood behind the latch, to keep it in place. Unable to move the wood, Hugo pulled off a shoe, and began striking at the latch with the heel, until it flew up and the door sprang open. Swiftly, Hugo stepped to one side as Greensleeves galloped out furiously and headed down the yard toward the meadows.

Immediately, Hugo ran to the next stall, where DeLacy's horse, Dreamer, was also panicked and rearing up on its back legs. He released the latch, opened the door, and another horse sped away, heading after Greensleeves.

As he moved on to the third stall, he heard Charles shouting, "Miles, get the fire extinguishers! Guy, pull out the pump and hose. We've got to stop the fire spreading! Walter, help him."

Charles ran up to Hugo. "Thanks for that warning. If you hadn't seen the blaze all of this would have soon burnt to the ground."

"I couldn't sleep, and got up. Lucky, wasn't it? When I saw the flames, everything I knew from my childhood rushed back to me. I knew I had to get here as fast as possible to save the horses."

Charles nodded, and then, when he saw Hanson running into the yard, followed by two footmen, he cried, "Please rescue Dulcie's little Shetland pony in the stall here, Hugo. I'll get Hanson and the footmen to free the horses on the other side of the yard. We must move them into the meadows for their safety."

"Shall I take the pony into the fields?" Hugo asked.

"Good idea," Charles shouted over his shoulder, already on his way to give Hanson and the footmen their instructions.

Within three hours all of the flames had died down, most of the stalls had been hosed and cleaned out, and the burnt and wet hay removed. Most importantly, none of the horses had been hurt, or injured in any way.

The stable boys, who lived in the annex near the estate offices at the far end of the stable block, had arrived soon after the fire started. Awakened by the furor, they had quickly come tumbling and running onto the scene. And they had done their fair share of work. Eventually, the horses had been led back to the yard, carefully examined, and then put in their stalls where they were watered and fed.

As the stable lads sat drinking their mugs of hot sweet tea and eating bacon sandwiches, they talked amongst themselves, wondering aloud how the fire had started. It had been huge. Hanson, Walter, and the two footmen were doing the same thing in the servants' hall. The fire was a mystery to them all; therefore it stayed in their minds.

Once they had cleaned themselves, and changed their clothes, Charles, Guy, and Miles went down to the dining room for breakfast, where they found Hugo nursing a burnt hand. He had wrapped a towel around his fingers, but he kept anxiously looking at the burns, a frown on his face.

"Come on, old chap, let me take a look at that hand," Charles said, striding over to his cousin at the other side of the dining table.

"It's nothing serious, Charles, but it does sting a bit, I must admit." He lifted the towel.