Daphne smiled at her. "I know it works, Ceci, certainly it did the other day. And I've no doubt it will on Sat.u.r.day. Thank you. Thank you so much for all your hard work."

Daphne had just returned to her bedroom when there was a light knock on the door. She went to open it, and saw Charlotte Swann standing there.

"I have something for you, Lady Daphne. May I come in for a moment?"

"Yes, please do, Miss Charlotte." As she spoke, Daphne opened the door wider, and stepped to one side.

As was her way, Charlotte Swann went straight to the heart of the matter. "I want to give you this, Lady Daphne. It's very old, and you must have something old as well as new, blue, and borrowed." She handed Daphne the gift. It was wrapped in silver paper and tied with gray silk ribbon.

"Thank you, Miss Charlotte," Daphne said, staring down at the package. "I have something borrowed from Mama, her bow brooch. Cecily gave me something blue, a garter." She laughed as she said this, shaking her head. "And DeLacy gave me a lace wedding handkerchief that is brand new. Yours is the last gift to fulfill the ancient saying. Can I open it now?"

Charlotte smiled. "Why not?"

Once the paper was removed, Daphne found she was holding a blue velvet box. When she lifted the lid she was surprised, and gasped. She was staring at a narrow strand of diamonds. "Why, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed. She held the diamond bracelet in her hands, marveling at it. "But this is too valuable. You can't possibly give me this, Miss Charlotte. And I certainly can't accept it."

"Yes, you can. And you must." Charlotte waved her hand in front of Daphne, as the young woman attempted to give the bracelet back to her. She said, "Listen to me, Lady Daphne, this is meant for you. It is an Ingham family heirloom, and therefore rightfully yours. I want you to wear it, knowing that your grandfather, David, the fifth earl, gave it to me for my twenty-first birthday. I've treasured it all these years, and now it's yours to enjoy."

Daphne stood holding the bracelet, knowing that to insist Charlotte take it back would be to insult her. That was the last thing she wanted to do to this woman who had been such a comfort, and a wise counselor.

Taking a deep breath, Daphne murmured, "If it is an Ingham family heirloom, then who did it belong to originally? Do you know, Miss Charlotte?"

"Yes, it belonged to the fifth earl's mother, the fourth countess ... your great-grandmother." Charlotte reached out for the bracelet. Daphne gave it to her, and Charlotte fastened it on Daphne's wrist. "There. You see, it looks beautiful, and it's very simple, not at all ostentatious."

"Thank you, Miss Charlotte. I shall treasure it always."

Charles was ensconced in the library with his sister Lavinia, and he was having a hard time controlling himself. To say he was angry was an understatement.

The Earl of Mowbray was fuming inside, yet he did not dare let go of his self-control. There were already guests at Cavendon who had arrived for Daphne's wedding. Hugo's cousin, Mark Stanton, was here, having come up from London earlier, and so was his other sister, Vanessa, who had her own suite of rooms in the house.

Lavinia suddenly said, "I know you're furious, Charles, but I'm not entirely to blame. Jack and I have problems."

"Yes, you have been saying that for a while now. But that doesn't mean you can go off and find another man, get hopelessly involved with him, as you obviously are."

"I didn't go off and look for another man. It just happened. That's the way of the world, Charles. Things just happen in life."

"If you have to take a lover, why in G.o.d's name did you choose a famous politician, who's very much in the public eye? And married to boot." Charles glared at her.

Lavinia let out a long sigh, and fell back against the cushions on the sofa. "I didn't; what I mean is, it was Alex who pursued me, not the other way around."

Charles compressed his lips. "I'd heard he was a bit of a bounder, and now you've just confirmed it."

"Charles, please get down off your high horse, and tell me what you want me to do."

"You must break off this relationship at once, Lavinia. Before you involve this family, your family as well as mine, in a scandal of no mean proportions. There's gossip about you floating around already. The next thing you know, it'll be in the b.l.o.o.d.y newspapers."

Lavinia sat up straighter, pushed back her blond hair, her bright blue eyes flashing angrily. Watching her closely, Charles couldn't help thinking that when Daphne was forty she would have a look of his sister at this moment. They had always had a strong resemblance to each other, physically at any rate. As for their characters, they were very different. Lavinia was imprudent and impulsive, whilst Daphne was cautious and thought things through.

Lavinia said, "I don't know how there could be gossip. I haven't told anyone about Alex."

Charles threw her a pointed look. "Yet several people have told me. Friends I trust, and who seem to know all about your affair. Perhaps your lover has spoken out of turn. It wouldn't surprise me. He doesn't have an ounce of cla.s.s."

Lavinia looked stricken, and she exclaimed, "I can't believe he would talk about me, reveal we're involved. That's so dishonorable, and very dismaying." There was a pause and she said, "Are you sure?"

"I am. Absolutely. How would anyone know otherwise? You haven't told anyone, then he obviously did. You're quite a catch, you know. An earl's daughter with a t.i.tle in your own right, married to a notable business tyc.o.o.n, sister of one of the premier earls of England. Good G.o.d, Lavinia, don't you understand? He's boasted about you being his mistress."

"Were you serious, when you said it might get into the newspapers?" She leaned forward. Her face was very pale.

"I was indeed. I don't want a scandal surrounding us, Lavinia. Especially not at this moment, when Daphne is marrying."

"Neither do I. What shall I do?"

"I'd break it off immediately, and don't put a b.l.o.o.d.y thing in writing. Just be unavailable, and if you have to speak to him, do it on the telephone. I wouldn't see him ever again if I were you."

"I won't, I promise, and I'll do as you say."

"Look, I'm not making a moral judgment about you, Lavinia. I'm just being protective. Many women take lovers because of problems in their marriage. But usually both parties are discreet, and so protect each other from gossip. And trouble. You just picked the wrong chap, that's all."

"He picked me."

"And there you have your answer, don't you think?"

"I do." She sighed. "By the way, I meant to ask you before, why is there this rush to wed on Daphne's part?"

"Several reasons," he answered in a confident voice. "Firstly, Daphne is worried that she and Hugo might have to postpone their marriage, if Anne suddenly dies, which is very probable. That's why it's this Sat.u.r.day, and not planned for a Sat.u.r.day six months from now. And Felicity and I agreed with her about this matter. Then secondly, Hugo has a great deal of traveling to do. He has to be in Zurich and then New York. They didn't want to be separated for long stretches of time."

"I understand. They fell in love very quickly. Was it a coupe de foudre, as the French say?"

"It was indeed. They took one look at each other, and that was it."

"How lovely," Lavinia murmured. "She's a lucky girl. Hugo is a real charmer."

"And very solid; he'll make a good husband. Now, I think we'd better go to the yellow sitting room for tea. I'm sure everyone is waiting for us."

Forty.

As she walked toward Cavendon, Charlotte couldn't help wondering why Olive Wilson wanted to speak with her, and why she had suggested the late afternoon today. The kitchen was a busy place at that particular time. Cook and the maids were bustling around with plates of sandwiches, scones, cakes, and pots of tea, and Hanson was commanding the footmen, hustling them upstairs.

Then it struck her. Olive would not be busy at that hour. The countess would be presiding over afternoon tea with her guests and the staff serving them in the yellow sitting room. Olive had something serious on her mind. Obviously she wanted to speak in private, probably in the servants' hall, which would be empty, and only Cook would be in the kitchen.

"Cooee! Cooee!" a voice suddenly called, attracting her attention.

Charlotte paused, swung her head, and saw Lady Vanessa, the younger sister of Charles and Lavinia, running down the terrace steps. She was waving and her face was full of smiles.

Waving in return, she waited for Vanessa, who came to a stop in front of her a moment later, and threw her arms around Charlotte.

The two women hugged, and Vanessa exclaimed, "Char, you look beautiful! And that lavender frock does suit you."

Charlotte said, "You look marvelous yourself, Vans." As usual, these two women reverted to their childhood nicknames for each other whenever they met after an absence on Vanessa's part. She lived mostly in London and only came to Cavendon for the holidays and special occasions.

"I'm feeling good. In top form, actually," Vanessa answered.

"I suppose you're still banging the drum for the suffragettes, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm not so militant these days. We are making good progress. Emmeline Pankhurst is a charming, brilliant, and powerful woman, and she's getting people to listen to her, to pay attention. You'll see, Char, one day women will have equal rights. Where are you heading now?"

"To the South Wing, I'm doing the floral decorations for the rooms being used for the wedding on Sat.u.r.day."

"Then you're in your element, gardens and gardening are your vocation. I'll keep you company for a few minutes."

The two women started walking, Vanessa falling in step with Charlotte. They had been close since they were children, had grown up together, were comfortable and at ease with each other. Vanessa Ingham was a modern woman, something of a visionary, tolerant, liberal minded, and without any side to her.

After a moment, Vanessa casually remarked, "I must admit, I was awfully surprised when I received the wedding invitation. They'd only just got engaged. Is there a reason for this headlong rush to the altar?" She gave Charlotte a penetrating stare.

"Anne Sedgewick's illness is one of the reasons. Sadly, she's at death's door, and could pa.s.s away at any moment. Daphne asked her parents to let her get married as soon as possible, while Anne is still alive. She knew that if she made the date for later in the year, she and Hugo might have to postpone the wedding for the mandatory mourning period."

"Oh gosh yes, I hadn't thought of that. What are the other reasons?" Vanessa probed.

"Hugo's business interests. He's very successful. I'm sure Charlie told you that. He has to be in Zurich and also New York very soon and he wishes Daphne to travel with him. I can't say I blame him."

"Neither can I. They're lucky they found each other, aren't they? It's not so easy to fall in love these days. There aren't that many eligible men around. Charles told me it was love at first sight for those two."

"Yes. And you'll see how happy they are together, and well suited. Hugo's a rather special man."

"I'm glad. Has Charlie said anything to you about Lavinia?"

Charlotte stopped in her tracks, and gave Vanessa a direct look, nodded. "He's been a little worried about her and a new male friend. But he didn't really say much more than that."

"He's truly angry with her, Char, and he thinks she's making a fool of herself with that awful Alex Mellor. A seasoned womanizer, if ever there was one, and I tend to agree with Charles. He's terrified of scandal touching the family."

"I know that. Don't you remember how upset he was when we were young, when the Hateful Harriette was falling about drunk, making scenes in Mayfair nightclubs, and getting herself in the newspapers? Charlie was mortified his father had to go through that ghastly episode."

Vanessa made a face, and said, "It was tremendously embarra.s.sing for him, and he doesn't want to have scandal blight the family name ever again." She squeezed Charlotte's arm. "I'd better dash. I'm going to be the last one in for tea, as usual. See you later."

"I'll be around if you need me, Vans. In the South Wing all day tomorrow."

Charlotte watched Vanessa flying off, racing across the lawn. She had always been thin, fast, and elegant, like a pedigree filly. A thoroughbred. Charlotte loved her, and appreciated what a true and loyal friend she was. They were devoted.

A few seconds later she went into the kitchen, and was greeted by the sound of Cook singing, "Here comes the bride! Here comes the bride!"

Mrs. Jackson was alone, standing in front of her long oak table, waving a wooden spoon in the air like the conductor of an orchestra.

She stopped singing abruptly when she spotted Charlotte. "Luvely ter see yer, Miss Charlotte. Miss Wilson said ter tell yer she won't be a minute."

"I'm not in a hurry, Cook, and I must say, you're certainly in the right mood for the wedding."

"I am that, right thrilled. It's a treat ter see Lady Daphne so happy. Mr. Hugo's luvely, that he is."

Charlotte agreed, and continued, "Are you sure you don't need extra help on Sat.u.r.day? I can get a few more of the village girls to come in if you need them, Mrs. Jackson."

"I don't, but thank yer, Miss Charlotte. We're well prepared. As yer knows, Hanson is the master of organization."

Before Charlotte could make any comment, Olive Wilson, lady's maid to the countess, walked into the kitchen. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Charlotte. I had to check on something for her ladyship."

"That's all right, Olive."

"I'll make yer a pot of tea," Cook announced.

Charlotte glanced at Olive, who nodded and said, "That would be nice, Cook, thanks ever so much."

Within seconds, Olive was carrying a tray holding a teapot and two cups and saucers into the servants' hall down the corridor. It was quiet and cool after the warm kitchen.

Olive poured the tea, and said, "Thank you for coming. Alice said you'd be here in the South Wing, but I didn't want to miss you. That's why I sent a message."

"I gather you wish to speak about something private," Charlotte answered, giving Olive a questioning look.

"I do, and I realize that this might not be a good time, just before the wedding. But I'm very worried about her ladyship. Sick with worry, really."

"Why? What's the matter with her?"

"She's ... well, she's just not right. Not the way she was before I went to London to deal with my mother's affairs. I really do believe she's ill."

"What leads you to think that?" Charlotte pressed, leaning forward, wanting to know more. Had Olive seen something in Felicity that she had missed?

"She's not behaving like the woman I know, and have known for quite a few years. She's remote, preoccupied, and also absent-minded. I know she's not sleeping well, because that she told me, and certainly she has no appet.i.te. Actually, Charlotte, her ladyship seems to be living in her own world. I feel, somehow, that she's isolated."

Charlotte was thoughtful for a moment before she said slowly, carefully, "I've noticed a remoteness in her, a distance, and I do know she has been preoccupied, Olive. I'm sure the latter has something to do with her sister's illness. The countess has been, and no doubt still is, very worried about Anne Sedgewick."

"She goes to the hospital a lot, to visit her sister, but I have a feeling she's also seeing a doctor there, getting advice," Olive confided quietly.

Startled by this comment, Charlotte exclaimed, "How could you know that?"

"I don't, not for sure. It's intuition on my part. I think that she might have an illness, and is trying to keep it a secret. From all of us, including the earl."

"I hope not, Olive. Look, why don't you just come out and ask her if she's feeling unwell?"

"I have thought of doing that." Olive compressed her mouth, looking more worried than ever. "But I don't like to intrude."

"You must ask her. She'll confide in you, after all, you're with her all the time. She depends on you for so many personal things. You help her to dress and undress, and you do her hair. You look after her clothes and jewels, all of those things. You're on a truly personal basis with her ladyship, and always in her orbit. Ask her, and let me know what she says. Maybe we can help her, you and I. Maybe she needs some loving care, and someone to unburden herself to ... like you."