Songs of Love and War (11 page)

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Authors: Santa Montefiore

BOOK: Songs of Love and War
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Bridie disappeared, returning a moment later with the box of Fry’s assorted chocolates that Beatrice had bought in Harrods and which the family had polished off the night before.
‘Where are you going to put it?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Kitty, arranging the frog on its bed of leaves inside. ‘I’ll think about that when we’re up there.’

‘Leona and Vivien will die of fright,’ said Celia excitedly. ‘I can’t wait to see their faces.’

‘I can’t wait to see Victoria’s and Elspeth’s. And Mama’s. Let’s not forget Mama.’ Kitty giggled. ‘She hates creepy-crawlies more than anyone.
Let’s catch a mouse next time and put it in her bed!’

Kitty and Celia washed their hands and faces and tidied their hair as best they could before sneaking up the servants’ staircase and through the green baize door into the hall. Kitty put
the chocolate box on the table behind a large display of lilies. ‘It’ll be safe there for a while,’ she said confidently, taking Celia’s hand.

They walked innocently into the drawing room where the women sat chatting over glasses of sherry on sofas and armchairs, the girls huddled in the corner talking quietly among themselves, while
the men stood smoking beside the fireplace.

‘Ah, here are the little devils,’ said Hubert, watching with pride as his granddaughter walked in with the hem of her dress smeared with mud and her untameable red hair coming away
from the ribbons that swept it off her face. ‘What have you two been up to?’

Kitty stood before him. ‘Nothing, Grandpa. We’ve been in the greenhouse,’ she replied.

‘Plotting, no doubt,’ added Cousin Digby with a chuckle. Maud glanced over from her seat on the sofa and a shadow of irritation darkened her face as she noticed Kitty’s dirty
dress, but before she could say a word Adeline reached out her hand.

‘Kitty my dear. Come over here and tell me what you’ve been doing all morning. You look like you’ve been digging a hole in the garden.’ Kitty walked up to her
grandmother, glancing down at her dirty shoes, aware of her mother’s disapproval.

‘Miss Grieve has been neglecting her duty,’ said Maud frostily, noticing how pristine Celia looked.

Adeline laughed. ‘I don’t think it’s poor Miss Grieve’s fault. I would imagine Miss Grieve has a hard time keeping track of this child’s whereabouts! How did you
manage to get so grubby while Celia remained so clean?’

‘I don’t know,’ Kitty replied, glancing at Celia in a silent plea not to tell.

‘You take after your grandfather,’ said Adeline. ‘He can never stay out of the mud either!’

Cousin Beatrice joined in with exuberance. ‘Celia turns into a savage the moment she sets foot in Castle Deverill. I’m surprised
her
dress is clean. Perhaps it’s in the
air, but every summer here in Ireland is a great adventure, isn’t it, Celia? An adventure we all look forward to with enormous anticipation.’

‘I suspect this year will be my last,’ interrupted Augusta grimly. Celia’s grandmother was a handsome woman with thick grey hair swept up onto the top of her head, large
drooping breasts contained behind reams of black lace and emeralds, and wide arthritic hips. She was tall and broad and dwarfed her husband who was diminutive in stature as well as build, with a
small face dominated by a sweeping white moustache. Her favourite subject was death and no one’s fascinated her more than her own. ‘I spent my whole life thinking of everyone else but
myself and here I am now with a lifetime of regrets and broken dreams. Oh to be young again,’ she sighed. ‘When I was a girl I thought old age would never arrive, but here I am, one
breath away from the grave.’ She didn’t notice Leona and Vivien rolling their eyes. ‘If you hear noises in the middle of the night, do not worry, it is only me, talking to
God.’

‘Nonsense, Augusta. You’ll outlive us all,’ said Adeline, who seemed to find extra reserves of patience when it came to Cousin Augusta.

‘I’ve told Stoke that I don’t want any fuss when the time comes. Just a little church service with close family and friends.’

‘I don’t think you’ll care, Augusta,’ said Adeline. ‘You’ll be far away.’

‘My dear Adeline.’ Augusta placed a hand on Adeline’s and squeezed it. ‘I trust
you
to make sure that Stoke doesn’t spend money unnecessarily. You know how
he is. I am a humble woman who does not need pomp and ceremony. I will leave the world quietly and peacefully as I have lived my life.’

At last lunch was announced and the family began to move from the drawing room. Elspeth and Victoria led the way into the hall, followed closely by Leona and Vivien. Stoke dutifully assisted his
wife as she heaved herself up, leaning heavily on the walking stick and less heavily on her frail husband. Kitty grabbed Celia and hurried into the hall to retrieve the chocolate box. But when they
got to the table they discovered, to their horror, that it had gone. ‘What are we going to do?’ hissed Celia. ‘It could be anywhere!’

‘One of the servants must have removed it.’ Kitty sighed.

‘Do you think they’ve thrown it away?’

‘I don’t know. Oh dear! This is very inconvenient.’

‘Shall we go and ask someone?’

‘Come along, girls,’ said Beatrice, striding into the hall. ‘I bet you’re both hungry, or have you been eating your way through the greenhouses?’

‘No, Mama. We’re very hungry,’ said Celia.

Kitty reluctantly walked into the dining room with Celia and Cousin Beatrice, trying not to worry about the fate of the poor frog and her promise to Jack.

The adults sat down at one end of the table, presided over by Hubert whose place was always at the head, while his grandson Harry sat at the foot, surrounded by his young sisters and cousins.
Bored by female company, he talked across them to George about their plans for the afternoon. Kitty pushed her food around her plate. All she could think about was the frog. Victoria and Elspeth
kept looking at her and smiling, as if they knew something she didn’t. Then suddenly Kitty saw the box. It was placed directly in front of her mother. The blood drained from her face as she
realized her two sisters had discovered it on their way through the hall. She caught Elspeth’s eye, but Elspeth looked away before she could ensnare her with her furious gaze.

It wasn’t until dessert that Maud picked up the chocolate box. Kitty blanched as her mother looked at it quizzically. ‘Really, Beatrice, you spoil us with all these delicious
chocolates.’ And then she opened it. Kitty’s breath caught in her throat. Elspeth and Victoria smirked triumphantly. Celia, who had only just noticed the box, blushed scarlet. There was
a moment when time seemed to hang suspended over the table, delay as Maud saw the frog and took a second to register what it was. Then she gasped and cried out in terror, ‘A frog!’

Elspeth and Victoria pretended to look surprised and stared accusingly at Kitty. Harry tried to suppress his smile – he couldn’t help but find his little sister’s
mischievousness amusing. Maud snapped the box shut and swallowed hard in an attempt to control her outburst.

Bertie was on his feet. He strode round the table and picked up the box. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ he barked, glaring at the children. Kitty’s eyes began to brim with
tears. She knew she was about to be rumbled, for Victoria and Elspeth would only too happily betray her. She clenched her fists, anticipating the pain of Miss Grieve’s riding crop.

And then Adeline laughed, a light laugh that sliced through the horrified silence and diverted every eye in the room. ‘Silly me!’ she exclaimed. ‘Really, O’Flynn must
have thought it was full of chocolates. I found the dear little frog in the morning room and thought I’d keep him for a while. Isn’t he lovely?’

Maud stared at her mother-in-law. ‘It’s
your
frog?’ she asked in disbelief.

‘I’m terribly sorry, Maud, my dear, if it gave you a fright. Give it to me, Bertie. I’ll ask one of the children to put it back in the garden.’ Adeline looked down the
table, as if deciding whom to ask. Then her pale eyes settled on Kitty, who stared at her grandmother with love and gratitude. ‘My darling Kitty, you like animals. Why don’t you find a
nice damp place to put him. I really shouldn’t have kept him in a box. It’s awfully cruel of me. Celia, why don’t you go with her? Now, who would like some more
dessert?’

Chapter 8

There is nothing in the world like an Irish summer. The air is damp with gentle rain, thick with the smells of heather and rose, alive with the sounds of the sea birds that
live off the rich fruit of the ocean and the abundant fodder of this fertile land. But when the sun shines it is surprisingly warm. The skies clear, bright and clean after the rain, the clouds
disperse, revealing a canopy of indigo blue. The sun sets with a grand display of flamingo pink and fiery crimson, and in that moment, when the dying day melts into the horizon, turning the water
to liquid gold, one might believe there is nothing more beautiful on earth or in Heaven.

Kitty, Celia and Bridie stood at the very top of the castle and gazed out of the window across the sea. The spectacle rendered them speechless. Their tender hearts were touched by the
otherworldly magnificence and a sense of something so much greater than themselves, but of which, in some incomprehensible way, they were part. Bridie thought of her father and wondered if he was
out there somewhere, in that magical light. Her heart ached for him in an intense and urgent longing, but the melting sun sinking into the ocean filled her soul with something soothing but
unidentifiable. Celia was too young to know what it was in the sunset that resonated deep within her but she was captivated by the wild mystery of Ireland. She recalled Kitty’s Fairy Ring and
wished with a sudden rush of passion that she could leave England altogether and live here in this enchanted place. Kitty, whose senses were so much in advance of her years, was overcome with love
for her home. She knew for sure that, whatever happened in her future, wherever she was made to go, she would always carry Castle Deverill inside her – and there was nothing anyone could do
to take that away from her.

The sun disappeared and the sky darkened over the sea. It was the beginning of September and the night of the Castle Deverill Summer Ball. Grand carriages rattled up the drive, pulled by fine
horses driven by men in livery. On either side of the track flares illuminated the way. The castle, a proud and majestic symbol of British ascendancy, stood royally in the light of the full moon
that was now beginning its steady climb. The girls raced to the other side and stood over the front door to watch the ladies in ball gowns and gentlemen in tail coats climb the steps to be
graciously received by their hosts, Lord and Lady Deverill.

Kitty and Celia wore their very best dresses with wide sashes at their small waists and patent-leather shoes on their delicate feet. Their hair had been brushed so vigorously by their
governesses that it shone like spun copper and gold. Bridie looked at them with a mixture of admiration and envy. She would have to return to the kitchen below stairs to help her mother. It was all
very well being persuaded to accompany Kitty and Celia upstairs, but her mother would be wondering where she was and, if anyone caught her there, in the private side of the castle, she’d be
in grave trouble.

‘Will you tell me all about it in the morning?’ Bridie asked the cousins.

‘We wish you could come and spy with us,’ said Kitty truthfully. ‘Don’t we, Celia?’

‘We do, Bridie. You’re like Cinderella, having to work in the cellar while her sisters are allowed to go to the ball.’

‘If only I had a fairy godmother to wave a wand for me,’ Bridie replied with a sorry smile. She shrugged. ‘But I don’t.’

‘You have a fine pair of dancing shoes,’ said Kitty. Bridie’s cheeks flushed scarlet as she remembered with a stab of pain the moment two girls at school had mocked her:
‘Oh here comes Lady Deverill,’ one had said, her voice full of scorn. To which the other had replied with equal derision, ‘Oh no, it’s only Bridie wearing her charity shoes,
just like a tinker!’ Bridie hadn’t worn them since but had put them back in their box for safe keeping, like a priceless treasure.

‘I need more than fine shoes, Kitty,’ she said quietly.

Bridie hurried to the end of the corridor and slipped through the door which led down to the basement via the servants’ staircase. The kitchen was like an ants’ nest with maids and
footmen coming and going, and in the middle of the room was Mrs Doyle, the ant queen, shouting orders as she made the final touches to her dishes. Bridie’s brother Sean was back at the castle
for the night, going through the castle rooms to check the fires were blazing and to add more turf as required, but Bridie was too young to help in the private side. She took her place by the
kitchen sink and began to dry the wet dishes.

From the stairs Kitty and Celia watched the grown-ups coming into the hall. They awarded points for beautiful dresses and jewellery and minus points for the ladies who, in their opinion, had not
made enough effort. In came the couples, one after the other, greeting Lord and Lady Deverill and moving on into the growing throng of guests. Lady Rowan-Hampton arrived on the arm of her portly
husband Sir Ronald, in a dazzling silk dress of the palest blue. Kitty awarded her ten points for her dress and another ten for the diamonds and sapphires that glittered against her creamy
décolletage. Grace raised her eyes, sensing that she was being watched, and smiled at the two little spies hiding behind the banisters on the landing halfway up the grand staircase.
‘We had better keep ourselves in check tonight,’ she said to her husband. ‘Look at those two monkeys.’

Sir Ronald turned his rheumy eyes to the stairs and waved up at Kitty. ‘My dear,
I
always keep myself in check.
You’re
the one who throws caution to the wind. Perhaps
tonight you’ll be more careful not to embarrass me.’

‘Look, there are Adeline’s hilarious sisters, the Shrubs. Come, let’s say hello.’

‘Two sillier women I have yet to meet,’ said Sir Ronald rudely. ‘They should be pulled out by the roots. You go and give them a good weed. I will find entertainment
elsewhere.’ And the two parted, Lady Rowan-Hampton into the drawing room, Sir Ronald into the library where Bertie was holding court by the fireplace, smoking a cigar and drinking whiskey
with Cousin Digby and his racing friends.

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