Also she ran his house well, and for all her propensity to be a rattle, was shrewd. She had earned her diamond earrings and perhaps her ermine tippett. It was not her fault if he always saw Marianne’s pale shadow behind her, and heard that cruel laughter.
‘If you must know,’ he said, ‘I expect Hamish Barlow to arrive with a list of my brother’s debts. It must be something serious to bring him so far. In honour bound, I shall have to try to settle them.’
‘How vexing!’ Louisa cried. ‘Couldn’t your brother have made a little money. I understand business people in China have.’
‘Not Oliver, you may be sure.’
‘Well, don’t worry about it now,’ Louisa said briskly. ‘It’s late and we must go down. Why don’t we have a little music tonight? That always cheers you up. Amelia will play the piano. And next month Amelia and I must have a few days in London shopping. I shall have to find some reliable woman to make her ball gown. She will need a great many things’—Louisa swept up to kiss the top of her husband’s head—‘and we may look at furs, too.’
‘You haven’t listened to a word I said.’
‘Oh, indeed, to too many.’
Edgar made haste in dressing, hoping for ten minutes alone in the drawing room with a glass of sherry before his guests arrived.
In this, too, he was disappointed, for he found Lady Arabella esconsed in his favourite chair. Wrapped in her fleecy white shawl with her stiff black skirts spreading about her, she looked cosy and gentle and half asleep.
‘Well, Edgar,’ she said in her husky voice.
‘Good evening, Mamma.’ His voice was hearty, easy. He had quickly overcome the irritation of finding her in his chair, and the room not empty.
‘It was so chilly, I had the fire lit. The summer’s late as usual.’
‘Good idea. Nice and cheery. Are you dining with us tonight?’
‘I thought I would. I miss Fanny. She reads to me.’
‘Doesn’t Amelia?’
‘Oh, Amelia. That harum scarum.’ The old lady’s voice was indulgent. ‘I’m looking forward to the new children. They’ll help me to pass the time. Fancy, Edgar! Such skeletons in your family.’
‘Hardly skeletons, Mamma. My brother had a past, I admit. But that’s no business of the children’s. We won’t have any of this sins of the father rubbish. I’m a broad-minded man.’
‘ And wise and tolerant,’ Lady Arabella approved. ‘You know, I once thought my daughter was making a mistake in marrying you. But you’ve astonished me.’
‘Thank you, Mamma. I hope I have been a good husband.’
The old lady smiled gently. Her eyes stared myopically into the fire.
‘Giving her this splendid home, too. Do you know, I’ve discovered a new pastime since the children have got too old for stories. I’ve been delving into the history of Darkwater. If I had been a man I should have been an historian. These old tales fascinate me. Darkwater has quite a history, you know.’
Edgar had lifted the sherry decanter. He put it down again, listening politely.
‘All old houses have,’ he said. ‘I suppose you’re referring to the legendary bird. The bringer of disaster, eh?’
‘Not just disaster,’ said Lady Arabella enjoyably. ‘Death.’
‘Come, Mamma! How you love gloom.’
‘Ah, yes, gloom. And successions, too. Family trees. All those pictures of fruitful trees with babies in the branches. So pretty.’
Edgar smiled indulgently.
‘Where do you find all this stuff?’
‘Oh, it’s all here in the house. Some of the Davenports were admirable recorders.’
Edgar’s smile had faded.
‘The library is my preserve. I really can’t have you ferreting about in there, Mamma.’
‘All those books and no one bothering to open them,’ Lady Arabella said regretfully. ‘George and Amelia haven’t inherited my literary tastes, which is a pity. One’s mind should be cultivated. You mustn’t deny me my little hobby, Edgar. Besides. I hadn’t realised the Davenports were such an
‘If you must know,’ he said, ‘I expect Hamish Barlow to arrive with a list of my brother’s debts. It must be something serious to bring him so far. In honour bound, I shall have to try to settle them.’
‘How vexing!’ Louisa cried. ‘Couldn’t your brother have made a little money. I understand business people in China have.’
‘Not Oliver, you may be sure.’
‘Well, don’t worry about it now,’ Louisa said briskly. ‘It’s late and we must go down. Why don’t we have a little music tonight? That always cheers you up. Amelia will play the piano. And next month Amelia and I must have a few days in London shopping. I shall have to find some reliable woman to make her ball gown. She will need a great many things’—Louisa swept up to kiss the top of her husband’s head—‘and we may look at furs, too.’
‘You haven’t listened to a word I said.’
‘Oh, indeed, to too many.’
Edgar made haste in dressing, hoping for ten minutes alone in the drawing room with a glass of sherry before his guests arrived.
In this, too, he was disappointed, for he found Lady Arabella esconsed in his favourite chair. Wrapped in her fleecy white shawl with her stiff black skirts spreading about her, she looked cosy and gentle and half asleep.
‘Well, Edgar,’ she said in her husky voice.
‘Good evening, Mamma.’ His voice was hearty, easy. He had quickly overcome the irritation of finding her in his chair, and the room not empty.
‘It was so chilly, I had the fire lit. The summer’s late as usual.’
‘Good idea. Nice and cheery. Are you dining with us tonight?’
‘I thought I would. I miss Fanny. She reads to me.’
‘Doesn’t Amelia?’
‘Oh, Amelia. That harum scarum.’ The old lady’s voice was indulgent. ‘I’m looking forward to the new children. They’ll help me to pass the time. Fancy, Edgar! Such skeletons in your family.’
‘Hardly skeletons, Mamma. My brother had a past, I admit. But that’s no business of the children’s. We won’t have any of this sins of the father rubbish. I’m a broad-minded man.’
‘ And wise and tolerant,’ Lady Arabella approved. ‘You know, I once thought my daughter was making a mistake in marrying you. But you’ve astonished me.’
‘Thank you, Mamma. I hope I have been a good husband.’
The old lady smiled gently. Her eyes stared myopically into the fire.
‘Giving her this splendid home, too. Do you know, I’ve discovered a new pastime since the children have got too old for stories. I’ve been delving into the history of Darkwater. If I had been a man I should have been an historian. These old tales fascinate me. Darkwater has quite a history, you know.’
Edgar had lifted the sherry decanter. He put it down again, listening politely.
‘All old houses have,’ he said. ‘I suppose you’re referring to the legendary bird. The bringer of disaster, eh?’
‘Not just disaster,’ said Lady Arabella enjoyably. ‘Death.’
‘Come, Mamma! How you love gloom.’
‘Ah, yes, gloom. And successions, too. Family trees. All those pictures of fruitful trees with babies in the branches. So pretty.’
Edgar smiled indulgently.
‘Where do you find all this stuff?’
‘Oh, it’s all here in the house. Some of the Davenports were admirable recorders.’
Edgar’s smile had faded.
‘The library is my preserve. I really can’t have you ferreting about in there, Mamma.’
‘All those books and no one bothering to open them,’ Lady Arabella said regretfully. ‘George and Amelia haven’t inherited my literary tastes, which is a pity. One’s mind should be cultivated. You mustn’t deny me my little hobby, Edgar. Besides. I hadn’t realised the Davenports were such an
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