By the time she had summoned Martha, had changed into her newest gown, and had washed and tidied herself, almost an hour had passed, and by then no one was in the drawing room but Mama.
“Where is everyone?” Winnie said.
“Minna is in the nursery with the children, Lily has gone up to change for dinner already, and I cannot tell you where the men have gone.”
“How long is Walter staying?”
“A few days… I hardly know, for it was all very sudden,” she said fretfully. “Your uncle went off to the castle as usual this morning, and came home with Walter and his boxes this afternoon, and not a bit of notice to me, none at all. Still, I makeno objection, even though I cannot like it, for we must do what we can for the poor boy. Ah, there is the dressing bell now.”
So saying, she sailed majestically out of the room, leaving Winnie mystified. She had never made the least objection to unexpected visitors before, and Walter was unlikely to be a difficult guest, so it was hard to see a reason for her fit of pique. Winnie straightened a few cushions, closed open books and tidied away the journals, then settled down with the newspaper. Lily would have Martha’s services first to change for dinner, so there was no point in rushing.
She had not been there two minutes when the door opened and Walter came in, creating the familiar flutters in her stomach. Did it never end, this foolish delight in his company? Ah, but he looked so splendid, so tall and manly, his clothes so well-fitted to his admirable form. And he really should not smile at her that way, not if she were ever to recover her sanity where he was concerned.
“There you are, Mouse!” he said in pleased tones. “I wondered where you had got to.”
“I had to change my gown.”
“I know, but you have been gone ages. Is this not fun? In all the times I have visited this house, I have never yet stayed here, except that one time when it snowed, do you remember? Probably not, for I was only seven or eight, so you were just a baby then. It was too bad a storm to walk or to take the horses out, so I stayed in a little attic room, and your father and uncle walked home with me the next morning. Are you pleased to see me, Mouse?”
“Of course, but why are you staying? Has something dreadful happened?”
“Not yet, but it is about to. Izzy is coming home.”
“Oh dear!”
“Quite so. She wrote Mother a dreadful letter, ranting over no less than ten pages, if you please, and not even franked, for Farramont was away somewhere. Eustace is holed up at Welwood, no doubt with the doors and windows barred. Aunt Alice still keeps her room, where Malling will defend her. Even Mother has bolted, gone to Aunt Myrtle at Harfield.” An anxious frown crossed his face, making him look like a boy again. “I hope she comes back soon. The place is horrid without her. As for the others, nothing ruffles Kent, not even Izzy, and Olivia is cut from the same cloth, but I could not stand her frenzies, not just at the moment, not when we are all rubbed raw as it is. So your uncle very kindly invited me to stay until Izzy subsides or Farramont arrives to take her away or she is locked up in an asylum, whichever comes first.”
Winnie giggled. “Really, Walter! Izzy is… a bit excitable, let us say, but she is not as bad as all that.”
“You did not see the letter.”
“Poor Lord Rennington, left to deal with it on his own, and not even Lady Rennington to share his trouble. I confess to a little surprise that she would leave the earl just now.”
“That is to persuade him to marry someone younger,” Walter said. “I thought she only said that in the heat of the moment, but she is very set on it, seemingly, so she has gone — leaving the stage for the next act, as she puts it. But I wish she had notabandonedus.”
“Your poor father! How dreadful for him!”
“He is very shocked, naturally, but it is hardly dreadful for him. What, to be forced to marry some pretty young creature? There are plenty of men who would envy him that. Uncle George is all for it, too. He has no wish at all to inherit, and Aunt Jane has wept pretty well constantly since she heard the news. She says that her soul is at Westwick, and even if George inherits, she will not live at Corland. She will live in the Dower House, shesays, and be perfectly content there. Westwick will go to Lucas now, I suppose.”
“So much upheaval,” Winnie said thoughtfully. “No one is unaffected, but you have had the worst of it, Walter. You have lost so much.”
“Yet the odd thing is that what I most resent is not being Viscount Birtwell anymore. The earldom, the castle, all Father’s estates… that is just a burden, frankly. But I did like being a lord — even if only by courtesy, as you so helpfully reminded me.”
“I should have thought you would be more distressed by the breaking of your engagement, Walter,” she said sharply. “For all you joked about Miss Franklyn’s curls, you must have had some fondness for her, or you would not have planned to marry her, and now that happy future together is not to be. That, surely, is of greater significance to your life than a mere title.”
“A mere title… really, Mouse, what a thing to say! Thatmere titlegave me my place in the world. I knew who I was and what I was required to do. That certainty is all gone. But as for Bea… shall I tell you a secret?” He looked all round the room, although they were quite alone, and then whispered, “I am rather relieved it is all off with Bea.” Then, in his normal voice, he went on, “There! Are you shocked?”
“Yes, I am. You should not say such things, even to me. It is disloyal to Miss Franklyn, Walter.”
“Well, I would never say them to anyone but you. To everyone else, I look sorrowful and say that, naturally, I am heartbroken but I completely understand Miss Franklyn’s decision. Oh Lord, is that the time! I shall have to scramble into my evening togs. I shall see you again at dinner, Mouse.”
And with that he was gone, leaving Winnie bemused and not altogether in charity with him, running away and leaving his father to face Izzy’s wrath alone, and then so disrespectful to Bea! It was not right, not right at all. But she supposed he mustbe devastated by the dramatic change in his circumstances, and so concealed his pain behind a flippant manner. He had always been so, even as a child.
Martha had laid out one of her reliable old evening gowns, but Winnie instructed her to look out her newest one. She allowed the maid to do as she pleased with her hair. She had not Bea Franklyn’s striking locks, nor did her hair obligingly curl without excessive effort, but there was an abundance of it, with a fine, healthy shine, and Martha had grown quite skilful in arranging it. Winnie felt, therefore, that she looked well as she descended to the drawing room.
The room was crowded, full of noisy, chattering people, the young ones in excitable groups, the men’s voices booming, and Aunt Minna shrieking with laughter, while the younger children, not yet tidied away to the nursery, raced around squealing.
Winnie winced, but then she noticed Walter across the room on one of the window seats, his head down, his face drawn with misery and her heart went out to him. He put such a good face on it, joking his way through his troubles, but he was cast down, there was no doubt about it.
