Daphne. Poor Daphne, Charlotte thought, seeing her in her mind’s eye … the image of her yesterday had been memorable. She had looked truly beautiful, and so much so Charlotte had been stunned for a moment, had caught her breath in surprise when Daphne had come out onto the terrace to speak with her that morning.
She had been wearing a peach-colored afternoon dress, with a cowl neckline, full skirt, and long flowing sleeves. The soft color had emphasized her peaches-and-cream complexion, the blueness of her eyes. Charlotte had realized, at that precise moment, that a young man, any man, would be completely bowled over by her, caught up in the sheer loveliness of her.
The floaty dress, its warm peach color, her smiling face, her cheerful demeanor … all had to do with Alice, who had told Charlotte everything immediately after she had found out about the pregnancy. “I explained to Daphne that she had to give the performance of her life for the next few days, until you came up with a plan. I told her she could not fail.”
And I can’t fail either, Charlotte reminded herself as she left the rose garden, hurried on up to Cavendon sitting high on the hill above the Dales, its windows gleaming in the bright northern sunlight.
She knew that Charles and Felicity were expecting her. Yesterday she had asked if she could see them both the next day, to discuss something very important.
In his usual easygoing way, Charles had agreed, and had not even asked what she wanted to discuss. He had also said that Felicity would be at Cavendon, because she was not going to Harrogate. Apparently, Anne Sedgewick’s only child, Grace, and Grace’s husband, Adrian, had arrived from Cairo at last, and were staying with her.
Later, Charlotte had met with Daphne on the terrace again, and had asked her to be available the following day. The girl was terrified of facing her parents, even though she was totally innocent of any wrongdoing. So much so, she was a nervous wreck, and when Charlotte had volunteered to talk to them first, Daphne had leapt at the idea. Anxiety-ridden though she was about the meeting, she was much calmer when Charlotte had finally gone home later that afternoon.
Charlotte glanced at her fob watch as she walked around to the back door of the house. It was just ten minutes past ten. She had time for a quick cup of tea, and a word with Hanson before her meeting.
When she walked into the kitchen, Cook’s face brightened at the sight of her. “Charlotte! It’s grand ter see yer, luv! I knows yer always popping in and out, but yer never pop in here, not these days, yer don’t.”
Charlotte went over to Cook, took hold of her hands affectionately, held them in hers for a moment. “I hate to come bothering you when you’ve so much to do. But I’ve a few minutes to spare today, before a meeting with Lord Mowbray, so I knew I just had to come and say hello.”
“Well, then, let’s have some tea. Or would yer prefer a cup of coffee? I’ve just made a pot.”
“Why not? That sounds nice, Mrs. Jackson.”
“Do yer know, young Cecily gets ter look more like yer do every day, Charlotte, and she’s going ter be as beautiful,” Cook said, as she went over to the stove, poured the coffee, then brought the cups to the table. “A lovely girl, that she is.”
“Yes, I know, she’s a darling,” Charlotte agreed, and took a sip of the coffee. “And she’s so talented, I can’t believe how clever she is with a needle and thread.”
“Lady Daphne thinks she’s going ter be a designer one day, making frocks. In London, she said. What do yer think of that then?” Mrs. Jackson gave Charlotte a knowing look. “And she really did manage ter repair that there frock that got damaged with ink.”
“So I heard,” Charlotte murmured.
Stepping closer, Cook whispered, “Mrs. Sedgewick’s been really poorly, that she has! And the countess has been out of her mind with worry. But things seem ter be calming down. Oh, and the countess’s niece has come back from Egypt.”
“Yes, I know.” Charlotte picked up the coffee cup again, took another sip. “There aren’t many secrets around here.”
“Only too true. No doubt yer’ve heard that Master Hugo’s coming back for a visit. I always liked that boy, I did that. Pity he got shipped off to heathen lands.”
Charlotte laughed. “He went to New York, Mrs. Jackson, not darkest Africa. From what I gather, everyone’s rather looking forward to seeing him again.”
“That’s so, yes.” Cook hurried over to her boiling pots, took the lids off, peered inside, stirred one of the pots.
Charlotte said, “I’m afraid I’ve got to be off, Mrs. Jackson. Thank you for the coffee. It really hit the spot.”
Cook beamed at her and blew her a kiss as she slipped out of the kitchen.
Charlotte found the butler in his office, as usual poring over a collection of papers on his desk. He glanced up as she knocked and went in, saying, “Good morning, Mr. Hanson. I just wanted to let you know I am meeting the earl and countess in the South Wing in a few minutes. For a private meeting. I didn’t want you to be alarmed if you saw a lot of lights on in there on a Saturday morning.”
“Thank you, Miss Charlotte. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. But I did know about that. His lordship told me earlier.”
Charlotte smiled and retreated. She went down the back corridor, and upstairs to the front entrance hall. Then she headed in the direction of the South Wing, and she braced herself for her encounter with the earl and countess.
Nineteen
Charlotte heard steps behind her, and she recognized them. She paused, swung around, and, just as she had thought, Hanson was hurrying after her, a determined look on his face.
“I do apologize, Miss Charlotte,” he said when he came to a stop. “I didn’t ask if you would like some refreshments served during your meeting. The earl didn’t give me any instructions, and it was remiss of me not to mention it a moment ago.”
“I don’t think we do, Mr. Hanson, but thank you for thinking of it.” She smiled at him warmly. He was special to her; she had a soft spot for him, and took comfort from his calm authority. His constant presence had been reassuring in times of trouble and problems; also, his devotion to Cavendon, and the family, was commendable. Although Hanson could be stern with the staff, he never raised his voice, nor was he unkind. It was a gift, the way he managed the staff. And the family, she added to herself, smiling inwardly.
Hanson said, “If you don’t mind, I will accompany you to the South Wing. I can help you put on the lights. There are a lot of switches, you know. Still, I’m thankful the fifth earl put in electricity. We couldn’t do without it now.”
“Please come with me, Hanson, you’ll be a great help.” Realizing that he was riddled with curiosity about the meeting, and wanting to allay any concerns he might have, Charlotte said, in a confiding tone, “I suggested to his lordship that we should consider using the South Wing again. To open it up would be useful, because there’s so much wear and tear on the East Wing. However, I also brought the matter up because I thought the earl should consider it for Lady Gwendolyn.”
Hanson stopped abruptly, stared at her, obviously surprised. “I don’t understand. Lady Gwendolyn is happy where she lives now, isn’t she?” He sounded genuinely puzzled.
Charlotte nodded. “She is, yes. But I will confide in you, Mr. Hanson. However, this has to be between us.”
“But of course. I would never break a confidence, you must know that after all these years.”
“I do. I’m afraid the earl is rather troubled, in a sense, about Mr. Hugo’s return. You see, Little Skell Manor is actually his. It belonged to his mother, but Lady Gwendolyn continued to live there after her death. However, it is his legally.”
A look of comprehension crossed Hanson’s face. “Lady Evelyne never changed her will in favor of her sister. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so. Mr. Hugo would be within his legal rights to claim the house. I’ve been trying to find a solution, if that should happen. Where could we put Lady Gwendolyn? Obviously the South Wing came to mind. What is
your opinion, Hanson?”
“It’s the perfect solution, Miss Charlotte. Lady Gwendolyn does enjoy her privacy, and the South Wing is beautiful, and very comfortable. Ah, here we are. Let’s go in and put on the lights.”
As he spoke Hanson opened the double mahogany doors and ushered Charlotte inside. Together they went around the rooms, flipping light switches, and discussing the different spaces. Charlotte knew this wing inside out, because she had worked in these rooms for years with David Ingham, the fifth earl.
“Thank you for helping me,” she said in an undertone, when she heard footsteps and voices. She and Hanson went out to meet the earl and countess as they came into the gallery of the South Wing.
Hanson immediately excused himself and hurried off.
Charlotte said, “Hanson volunteered to help me turn on all the lights. Quite a task.”
Lady Felicity was glancing around the pale green living room, and she exclaimed, “I’d forgotten what a lovely room this is, Charles, and the antiques are quite extraordinary. Aunt Gwendolyn would be happy here. Who wouldn’t? You had a good idea, Charlotte.”
“You might have forgotten, but the other rooms are equally as lovely. Let’s walk around, your ladyship, shall we?” she suggested.
The countess agreed at once, and hurried ahead, leaving Charles and Charlotte to follow. “The more I see this wing, the more I like it,” Charles murmured to Charlotte. “I’m seriously thinking of opening it up for the summer events, even if Hugo doesn’t want the manor.”
Charlotte simply nodded.
He mentioned this to Felicity as they caught up with her, and she immediately agreed.
They returned to the pale green sitting room, and Felicity said, “Thank you again, Charlotte, and now I must be off. I have so many—”
“You can’t leave, darling,” the earl interrupted swiftly. “When I told you earlier I wanted you to see the South Wing, I also explained that Charlotte wished to speak to us. About something important.”
The countess looked at Charlotte, frowning. “Do you have some sort of problem?”
“No, I don’t, my lady. You and the earl do. And when the Inghams have problems, so do the Swanns.”
“What is it, Charlie?” the earl asked, reverting to his childhood name for her, suddenly aware of her troubled expression, the worry flooding her eyes.
Taking a deep breath, she replied, “I think it would be a good idea if you both sat down…” Her voice trailed off.
Felicity appeared to hesitate, obviously longing to go about her own business, but Charles knew instinctively that something was awfully wrong. “Come along, Felicity, sit next to me here on the sofa,” he insisted.
Reluctantly, Felicity did so, her eyes now riveted on Charlotte. “What is it you want to discuss? Surely it can’t be that bad?”
Lowering herself into a chair next to them, Charlotte answered quietly, “It is indeed very bad, Lady Mowbray. You are both facing a situation that is almost insurmountable. It could be ruinous. It could easily bring down the House of Ingham.”
Felicity was gaping at her, her eyes filled with bafflement, obviously unable to come to grips with such a preposterous suggestion.
Charles Ingham, the Sixth Earl of Mowbray, trusted Charlotte Swann with his life. He knew she was not exaggerating. That was not her way. His face paled and apprehension filled his light blue eyes as he focused on her.
“Let’s have it, Charlotte,” he said, bracing himself.
Twenty
Taking a deep breath, Charlotte said, “Daphne’s pregnant.” Her eyes did not leave their faces as she uttered these fateful words.
They fell into the room like an exploding bomb.
For a moment Charles and Felicity could not say a word, so stunned and shocked were they. They looked at each other in alarm, and then gaped at Charlotte, obviously filled with total disbelief, based on the expressions on their faces. It was as if they couldn’t comprehend what she had announced so bluntly.
“No! No! That can’t be!” Charles exclaimed in a loud, angry voice. “Not Daphne! That’s not possible! She doesn’t know any men. So how can she be pregnant?” He shuddered as he said that word, shaking his head vehemently. Charlotte is mistaken, he thought; she has to be. There is no truth in her statement. Daphne cannot be pregnant. Not my Daphne.
Felicity found her voice at last. “I agree with Charles,” she exclaimed, her voice shrill, harsh. She brought a trembling hand to her mouth in an effort to stifle the sobs bubbling up in her throat.
“She would never break her code of honor, or let us down. She is part of Charles’s plan; she wants to marry the son of a duke. She has integrity, and it’s true, she doesn’t know any men, other than Julian Torbett, but—”
Felicity could not control her raging emotions, and she began to sob once more, tears coursing down her cheeks.
Charles moved closer to her on the sofa, and put his arm around her, endeavoring to calm her. But she was distraught, just as he was himself. He was still suffering from shock, and he felt as though his strength had drained away. For the first time in his life he was floored, so startled by this horrendous news that he was undone.
Holding his weeping wife in his arms, he looked across at Charlotte helplessly, and cleared his throat. His voice shook when he finally asked, “Who did this to her?”
Charlotte swallowed, and answered unsteadily, “I don’t know. We don’t know, and—”
“Do you mean she hasn’t told you who her … lover is?” Felicity cried, the pitch of her voice higher than ever, her face white as bleached linen.
“There is no lover, your ladyship. Daphne did not have a liaison with a man. She is the innocent victim. She was either attacked by a stranger, or forced by someone she knew. She was raped.”
“Are you saying Julian Torbett raped her?” Charles exclaimed, his voice echoing with anger. He was astounded, and added, “Surely not Julian … he was so meek.”
“I don’t know that it was him. She hasn’t been very forthcoming about what actually happened—”
“When did this take place?” Charles demanded.
“On the Saturday you had lunch with her and the girls. May the third. She went to Havers Lodge after lunch—”
“I remember that!” he interrupted, cutting her off. “Daphne told me she was going to Havers Lodge to see Julian, to tell him that he could invite Madge Courtney to come to the annual summer ball. Perhaps I’m wrong about him. Maybe he did force her; yes, that’s what happened.”
“You’re right, Charles, I concur with you,” Felicity said quietly, now endeavoring to control herself. “It must have been at the lodge, when she was there.”
“No, no,” Charlotte interjected. “It was in the bluebell woods…” She let her voice trail off when she saw the shock on their faces once again. This was hard for them to bear.
“On our land!” Charles shouted, his usual constraint evaporating. His anger was spiraling once more.
Felicity, looking thoughtful, murmured in a low voice, “I know Julian was engaged to Madge Courtney, but mostly that was because Daphne never showed any interest in him romantically. Her heart was set on following the plans Charles had made for her. However, I always believed Julian was enamored of her. In my opinion, Madge was second choice. Anyway, Madge is rich, let’s not forget. The Torbetts favor women with great fortunes, you know.”
There was a long silence.
Charlotte broke it when she said, “I think I should tell you everything I know. After that you must talk to Daphne. She is terrified, and beside herself with grief and sorrow. She’s trying to keep up a good front, encouraged by Alice to do so. But she really needs you, needs your comfort, your love and understanding.”
“Of course she does,” Charles agreed, endeavoring to calm himself. The shock had not entirely receded. “Daphne is a wonderful young woman, and obviously she is totally innocent. We must reassure her that we are on her side, and that we will help her in every way we can.”<
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Felicity took a deep breath. “We will make sure she gets through this, Charlotte, but what are we going to do about her condition? How will we keep it a secret? Hide her pregnancy? Lead a normal life? What if the secret leaks out? She’ll be ruined. The family will be ruined, as you warned. And what about next year? She’s supposed to come out as a debutante, be presented at Court? What can we do to sustain the family’s reputation?”
“I’ve come up with a plan. First, I would like to fill you in about Daphne’s ordeal.”
“Yes, do that, Charlie, tell us everything.” Charles sat back, waiting, an expectant expression on his face.
Charlotte, leaning forward, her hands clasped together, did exactly that … told them everything they had to know, however unpalatable this was.
* * *
Once she had concluded her story, Charles rose. After thanking her, he looked at his wife. “We must now go and find Daphne to console her, and give her our support. She must be beside herself.”
“Yes, she must be.” Felicity also stood up, but at that precise moment there was a knock on the door of the South Wing. It was Charlotte who ran to open it.
Daphne was standing there, looking truly beautiful in a pale blue outfit, and it was obvious she was apprehensive.
“Come in, come in, Lady Daphne. Your parents were about to come looking for you,” Charlotte told her with a wide smile. “They understand you are totally innocent,” she finished in a slightly lower tone.
Daphne stepped into the gallery. Her mother ran to her at once, embracing her. Charles followed swiftly, and put his arms around both women, holding them close to him protectively.
After a moment, Charlotte said quietly, “I shall be in the lavender bedroom, here in the South Wing. And when you are ready to hear them I will tell you my plans for Daphne. For the moment you must be together to discuss this problem, and comfort each other.”