Page 37

Leonora replied, ‘The Countess of Bucklebury’s house is at the Grosvenor Square end of Brook Street, so we’ll be in easy walking distance of somewhere to stroll and ride.’ The carriage came to a halt outside a mansion, six windows across with a grand portico and a shiny blue door.

Charlotte grasped Leonora’s hand. ‘Oh, I’m afraid. What if she doesn’t approve of me? Thinks I’m just a country dowd, and ill-begotten too.’ Her face was drawn with anxiety.

‘Come on, Lottie. You’re the Countess’s only great-grandchild and you’re beautiful and accomplished and kind. She’s lucky to have someone like you in her family and I’m sure that’s what she’ll think. The new Earl has accepted you wholeheartedly and even given you his mother’s necklace.’

‘And he has settled a large sum of money on you too,’ Mrs Priddy added as she put away her knitting. ‘You are an heiress now, young woman, and need to start behaving as one! No more wilting violet but a proud rose. Come now, my dear.’

The Rokeby coachman had opened the door and handed Mrs Priddy down. Leonora and Charlotte followed. The door of Bucklebury House swung open and a footman in full livery of gold braid and green descended to escort them up the steps. Leonora exchanged a look with Charlotte and they found each other’s gloved hands to cling together for a moment.

The hallway of Bucklebury House was as impressive as its façade. Spacious, with a wide stone staircase rising to the left in a sinuous curve, it was floored in polished limestone and had the faded grandeur of the previous century. The cerulean blue of the silk-lined walls had been bleached by age to a misty aquamarine on which large ancestral portraits hung. Their pale faces and dark eyes seemed to gaze accusingly from the canvas, watching Leonora with unblinking stares. Some wore ruffs as big as wheels and others, towering wigs with circles of rouge on their cheeks. The Bucklebury servants too were silent and austere, so different from the easy-going informality of the countryfolk who worked at the Manor.

Leonora, Charlotte and Mrs Priddy were divested of their cloaks, bonnets and pelisses and led up the grand staircase, past more watching ancestors, some shining in armour or poised in mid-charge on the back of a rearing warhorse. Cobwebs hung from the chandelier and dust motes danced in the cool light from the tall north window on the landing. The house was silent apart from the ticking of a clock somewhere. They reached the first floor and the footman knocked on a pair of gilded double doors.

‘Come!’ was the call from within.

‘My lady, Miss Blythe, Miss Appleby and Mrs Priddy to see you.’ He opened both the doors and they walked in. The drawing room was even more impressive than the hallway. For a moment Leonora could not see where the voice had come from as her eye was overwhelmed with the opulence of her surroundings. The walls painted ochre with gilded mouldings emitted their own glow and the jostle of sofas and chairs were upholstered in faded tapestries of purples and pinks. A square piano-forte sat in the window and Leonora longed to investigate it.

‘Come in, come in. And close the doors. It’s cold enough as it is.’ A querulous voice arose from the sofa by the nearest of two blazing fires. There, sitting in splendour, was the most extraordinary person Leonora had ever seen. Frail and very old, the Countess of Bucklebury sat among her blue brocade skirts with a white lace fichu foaming at her neck; she, like her house, favoured the last century.

The women approached with deference and one by one took the hand that was proffered. She looked imperious, the remnants of her beauty displayed in the fine cheekbones and large dark eyes. Her lips and cheeks were rouged, and her hair covered by an elaborate lace and ribbon cap tied under the chin. The surroundings and her manner were so regal that Leonora found herself bobbing a quick curtsey, followed by Charlotte, her face suffused by a blush.

‘Now, there’s no need for that!’ the Countess said in a surprisingly strong and brusque voice. ‘I presume you are Charlotte?’ She had hold of Charlotte’s hand and examined her with beady eyes that appeared almost black, and missing nothing. ‘You appear charming enough, my dear. Luckily the country maid look is all the rage this year, in London, if not in Paris.’ She pulled her closer. ‘But beware of confusing outer appearance with character. I disdain any gal who thinks it’s charming to play the milksop in person.’

Leonora saw Charlotte’s shoulders slump. This was damning with faint praise, she thought, and felt a stab of protective indignation on the younger woman’s behalf. ‘Thank you, Lady Bucklebury, I will strive to overcome any timidity.’ Charlotte bowed her head.

‘Tush! You may call me Grandmama. I know I’m your great-grandmama but that sounds so ageing.’ She peered closer at the young woman’s face and softened her manner. ‘In fact, you have the look of my daughter, Venetia, about you. You are a beauty, but I hope your character will have more firmness than hers.’

The dark eyes then moved to Leonora. ‘You, Miss Appleby, are here as a companion and friend to Charlotte?’ When Leonora nodded, she continued in her terse way, ‘Of course, every kind of scapegrace and fortune hunter will be attracted to my granddaughter now Alistair has decided to bestow such a handsome dowry upon her.’ She patted Leonora’s hand. ‘I’m assured by Lord Rokeby that you have all the sterling qualities to protect her reputation and fortune.’

Leonora smiled and said, ‘I will do my best, Lady Bucklebury. I have known Charlotte all her life and she is as precious as a sister to me.’

The Countess looked impatient. ‘That is admirable from a sentimental point of view, my dear, but in my experience, we are all selfish beings and I would hope that you will also find yourself a husband while you are under my protection.’ One bony finger tapped Leonora’s cheek. ‘You’re handsome enough, Miss Appleby, to attract a fortune adequate to live a good life.’ When Leonora showed doubt, her colour rising, the old lady became tetchy. ‘Save me girlish chatter about love,’ she scoffed. ‘We all know an unmarried woman has a narrow, circumscribed existence, unless she is very rich or of highest birth when she can make her own life and take her pleasure where she will.’ Leonora felt thoroughly put in her place and wondered what it was going to be like living under this old termagant’s wing for the duration of the Season.

Lady Bucklebury then turned her attention to Mrs Priddy and her face cracked into a rare smile revealing blackened teeth. ‘Mrs P, I remember you from when you used to help my poor Venetia with those wicked sons of hers! I’m pleased to make your acquaintance again.’ She patted the satin beside her, suggesting she join her on the sofa. ‘I know that these girls will be in safe hands with you around.’ She even managed a laugh. She gestured to Leonora and Charlotte to sit as her footman brought in a tray of tea and macaroons.

‘It is indeed good to see you again, m’lady, and in such health.’ Mrs Priddy poured out the tea. Lady Bucklebury settled back against the cushions, her face growing softer in the firelight. ‘I must say this will prove to be diverting. At my age there is not much to entertain me apart from my memories. But they are rich pickings. At your age I was wild indeed!’ Her eyes sparkled at her recall of youthful exploits. ‘It was a much more libertine age. La! How prosy and particular Society has become! I was lucky enough to attract the attention of a very rich marquis and I married him. I had fallen in love with his house!’ She cackled with laughter. ‘Putting up with the blunderhead was not too onerous if I could live in this house and his very nice estate in Worcestershire.’

‘By the time I met you, Lady Bucklebury, the Marquis had died in a hunting accident, I think?’ Nanny P enquired as she handed round the plate of macaroons.

‘Oh yes! Fate intervened! Bucklebury gave me my child – although Venetia was always a little below par – then was propelled from his saddle taking a five-bar gate!’ She chuckled with amusement, then noticed Leonora’s and Charlotte’s shocked faces. ‘Oh don’t be ninnies, this is the reality of life. The heart just complicates things. If I had loved my lord then I would have wailed my life was over. All that’s required for success is a certain charm, some luck, and a lot of land.’ Her voice had an edge of triumph. ‘Aged thirty, I was left with half Bucklebury’s fortune and the freedom to do as I pleased.’

Leonora regained her equilibrium by concentrating on a favourite melody in her mind as her attention turned to the piano-forte. Curiosity overcame her shyness. ‘Lady Bucklebury, is your piano-forte a Broadwood or a Clementi?’

The dark eyes fixed on her face. ‘It is a Clementi. Do you or Charlotte play?’

‘We both do. I’ve been teaching Charlotte and she’s a very proficient musician. She has a pleasing singing voice too.’

Lady Bucklebury leant forward and said, ‘I don’t think I can host a party here for you as it’s too disruptive, but I’m able to obtain vouchers from Almack’s and I’m sure there will be many parties and balls in other establishments that you will be invited to.’ She settled back in her seat. ‘And of course I am happy for your friends to come to visit you here as long as Mrs Priddy chaperones you. I have strict instructions from the Earl.’

Charlotte surprised everyone, including herself, by saying, ‘Lord Rokeby has been very kind to me.’

‘I’m consoled to hear that, my dear. I can only regret that if one of the Rokeby brothers had to be sacrificed in defence of the country, it should be your father and not Alistair who was killed.’

There was a communal gasp and Leonora felt emotion surge up into her chest and without thinking, she erupted, ‘Lady Bucklebury! I think that is an unconscionable thing to say!’

The Countess was quite unruffled. ‘How so, my dear? I only speak the truth. Both of his parents would have said the same. Charles was everything that a nobleman should be, especially as the head of such an eminent family. Alistair was always recalcitrant, and look at him now! Returned half blind, lame, scarred, so damaged from war not even his dog can consider him a hero now.’

‘Well, both Achille and I think him so,’ Leonora muttered. It seemed only Charlotte heard as Lady Bucklebury clapped her hands and said, ‘I think we should eat. I’ll meet you in the dining room in an hour. My maid will show you to your rooms.’ She got to her feet with a grimace of pain and accepting Mrs Priddy’s arm, walked with the aid of a cane to the door. As she left them to go and dress for dinner she said, ‘I am a selfish old woman who has lived too long alone. Forgive any lapse of social grace.’ Her sly smile belied the contrition of her words.