‘We’ll be there,’ said Mrs Park, giving her another spoonful of jam. ‘There isn’t one of us as you could keep away.’
----*
While Ollie was holding court in the kitchen, Tom Byrne was offering his stepmother’s help in introducing Muriel to the neighbourhood.
‘She wants to give a ball at Heslop in Muriel’s honour. She thought a few days before the wedding, so that houseguests could stay for both. Would Muriel care for it, do you think?’
‘I’m sure she would! I can’t imagine a greater compliment. ‘ Rupert was nattered and touched, for Minna, like many unassuming and self-effacing women, was a marvellous hostess.
‘She’d have come over today to discuss it with your mother but she’s gone up to Craigston to see Hugh.’
‘How is Hugh these days? Happier?’
Tom’s young brother had paid for his happy home life with excrutiating attacks of homesickness when he first went away to school. Rupert’s last memory of him was of a small, carrot-headed boy in a brand new uniform being wretchedly sick on a clump of wasteground behind Mersham station.
‘Oh, he’s fine now, he’s really settled at last. He’s made a new friend this term who seems to be a paragon of all the virtues. He’s bringing him down to stay after the end of term. If the wedding’s on the twenty-eighth he should be here in time for it - and for the ball.’
‘In that case, would he like to be an usher, do you think?’
‘He’d love it, I’m sure. Thirteen’s just the age for that to be a real honour. Now tell me exactly what you want me to do. Lavinia Nettleford’s chief bridesmaid, I gather…’
The talk became practical. It was only as he rose to go that Tom, his cheerful, freckled face very serious, suddenly said, ‘I haven’t told you how very happy I am for you. Really. For all of us at Heslop there’s nothing and nobody too good for you.’
Rupert flushed. ‘Thanks, Tom. To tell you the truth, I can’t quite believe in my own luck. And knowing that it’s not just for me. That because of Muriel all the people here will be looked after.’
‘You’d have had to sell otherwise?’
‘I think so. I promised George I’d hang on, but quite honestly I saw no hope.’
‘And you’d have minded?’
‘Not for myself,’ said Rupert who had recently and
regretfully refused an invitation from his erstwhile tutor to join him in an expedition to the cave monastery near Akhaltsikhe on the Black Sea. ‘Not even for mother; she’s always said she’d be happy in a cottage. Only … when I was thinking I’d have to sell I kept remembering such silly things. Once I came back on leave and there was Proom in the pet’s cemetery - you know, that place behind the orangery where all our dogs are buried. He’d dug a new grave and he was burying a pair of unspeakable khaki socks that Mother had knitted for the troops. They were past unravelling, he said, and our soldiers had enough to contend with!’
Tom laughed. ‘Yes, Proom’s a paragon all right.’
‘And when I was still at Cambridge there was this maid - a spindly, pert little thing. Louise. She’s head housemaid now but she was very young then. I once found her coming out of Uncle Sebastien’s room with her cap all askew and it was obvious he’d been pestering her. I was really angry and I began questioning her. And she snubbed me - oh, so politely, so chivalrously. And she was right, of course, he means no harm. He just went on loving women when he should have stopped and somehow she understood this. It’s people like that I didn’t want to “sell”.’
‘Yes, I can see that. You’ll be a good master for Mersham, Rupert. Better than George though you’ll hate me for saying so.’
‘Don’t! If you knew the guilt I feel. Just to be alive …’ He broke off, seeing Tom’s face, remembering Geoffrey, Tom’s shadow, blown up at Paschendale. ‘God, what an idiot I am! Forgive me.’
Tom shook his head. ‘We’re both in the same boat, I guess. Guilt for the rest of our lives.’
‘If it teaches us humility…’
Tom smiled. ‘You don’t need teaching it, Rupert. It was always your gift. Come, let’s find Ollie.’
They found the Honourable Olive already sitting in the Crossley, in a state of evident bliss, holding a cardboard box on her knees.
‘It’s a baby hedgehog. Anna found it and she’s given it to me. She’s got it to drink milk from a saucer so it’s old enough to go out into the world, she says. She’s very nice, isn’t she? I think she’s beautiful.’
‘Beautiful?’ said Rupert, and there was something in his voice which made Ollie look at him, her brows furrowed.
‘Yes, she is. And I like the way she talks and she told me a poem in Russian because I asked her. It’s about a crocodile walking down the Nevsky something. She’s going to teach it to me next time.’
‘Who is this girl?’ asked Tom, looking curiously at Rupert.
‘A new maid.’ Rupert was still brusque.
‘I should like to meet her.’
‘You will,’ said Rupert. ‘It’s almost impossible not to meet Anna somewhere in this house.’
CHAPTER THREE
On the following day Rupert returned to London to fetch his bride and Anna and Peggy were sent upstairs to make ready Queen Caroline’s bedroom, which had been assigned to Miss Hardwicke until the wedding.
It was in the midst of these preparations that Anna received a letter from her beloved Pinny:
‘My dear Anna, I am writing to give you some news which I know will delight you. Your cousin, Prince Sergei Chirkovsky, is safe! When the White Army was routed at Tsarytsin he managed to escape and reach Odessa and eventually made his way to London. He arrived last week, very exhausted, of course, but basically in good health. As you know, his parents are still with Miss King and their joy as he walked in may be imagined. Sergei wouldn’t stay more than a few days since it is true that Miss King’s flat is rather overcrowded and he has gone off to look for some kind of employment - out of London, if possible, since the grand duchess does not seem to have abandoned her scheme for marrying him off to that dumpy lady-in-waiting of hers. He called to see us and was particularly anxious for news of you. I told him where you were but not what you were doing. You know how protective he has always felt about you and I had visions of him posting off to Wiltshire and challenging your employer to a duel!
Petya’s letter I enclose. As you see he is settling down very well and has made a friend who has invited him to stay after the end of term, so you need not be afraid about missing his return. As for your mother, she is reasonably well but a little vexed with me for refusing to buy six vats of buttermilk from the United Dairies. The Baroness d Wodzka has convinced her that she could market it as pregnant mare’s milk from Outer Mongolia at a considerable profit. I was obliged to tell her that in my view the koumiss cure is not sufficiently well known in West Paddington to ensure the success of the scheme.
I hope that you are not finding your new duties too onerous and look forward very much to your return. Yours affectionately,
Winifred Pinfold
‘What’s the matter with Anna now?’ enquired James, coming into the servants’ hall at lunchtime.
‘She’s happy,’ said Louise gloomily.
‘It’s because her cousin’s safe,’ said Mrs Park. ‘She thought the Bolshies had got him but they haven’t.’
‘Well, you can send someone else up there with her after dinner,’ said Peggy. ‘She’s like a bloomin’ tornado up there, getting ready Miss Hardwicke’s room. She’s had all the feather beds out in the courtyard an’ poundin’ the daylights out of them and now she’s at the mirrors with some brew she’s mixed from that dratted Selina Strickland and you can’t get her to stop for a minute.’