The Glittering Lights (Bantam Series No. 12) (3 page)

He did not wish the Marquis to see her when, as he put it himself, she was unfledged, half-grown, not quite as beautiful as she promised to be.

But there was no doubt they would have met when she went to London for her
debut,
had not Sir James’s plans been frustrated twice so that they had to remain in Yorkshire.

Then, as if fate had not finished putting obstacles in their way, the Duke died in 1885.

He had a stroke when he was watching one of his horses beaten at the post Epsom racecourse and only survived for twenty-four hours.

This was even a bigger set-back than Sir James had endured previously.

He had just arranged that the young Marquis should come and stay at The Towers for the local races and to take part in the County festivities which always coincided with them.

He had not pretended to Cassandra that this was not the auspicious moment in her life.

“You will meet Charlbury, he will propose to you, and you can be married at the end of the summer.”

“Does he realise what has been planned for him?” Cassandra asked.

“Of course,” her father replied. “The Duke has already invited us to stay at Alchester for Ascot, and by that time your engagement will be in the
Gazette
.”

Cassandra had said very little. She felt as if she was waiting in a theatre for the curtain to rise and was not quite certain which play was being performed.

When she was alone a thousand questions came into her mind, a thousand fears and doubts and apprehensions seemed to encompass her like a cloud.

Then with the Duke’s death, everything came to a standstill.

Sir James had travelled South to attend the funeral and he had not suggested that Cassandra should come with him.

Anyway she also was in mourning, and she was well aware it would not be right for her to meet her future husband at the deathbed of his father.

And so her second summer was spent in Yorkshire, while Sir James, she knew, waited at first confidently and then with some degree of anxiety for a letter from the new Duke of Alchester.

Cassandra waited too and for the first time in her life, she had not confided her thoughts and feelings to her father.

They were so close that she never had any secrets that he could not share.

“Who offered for you tonight?” he would ask as they travelled back from a Ball at which Cassandra had undoubtedly been the Belle and evoked the admiration of every male and the envy of every female.

“John Huntley, for the nine hundred and ninety-ninth time,” she replied laughingly. “I am fond of him, but he does not seem to understand that the word ‘No’ exists in the English language.”

“I admire his persistence,” Sir James said.

“He is as heavy-handed as a suitor as he is with a horse,” Cassandra had said.

“And what could be more condemning?” Sir James remarked with a smile.

“I know one thing ... I could never marry a man who could not ride well and did not understand horses.”

“There are plenty of good riders to be found,” Sir James said mockingly.

“You know I also want someone intelligent,” Cassandra said, “and that is more than I can say for Walter Witley. If you had heard him stammering and hesitating tonight, you would have been really sorry for him. I tried to prevent him coming to the point, but he had made up his mind to ‘try his luck,’ as he put it. But I do not think he will try again.”

“Were you unkind to him?” Sir James asked curiously.

“No, but I have deflated his ego,” Cassandra answered. “He thinks Lord Witley of Witley Park is too much of a catch to be turned down by the daughter of a mere Baronet!”

“Damn it all!” Sir James ejaculated. “The Sherburns were Squires in Yorkshire when the Witleys were nothing but sheep-shearers.”

Cassandra had laughed.

“Oh, Papa, I love you when you are proud of your ancestry and you give the
parvenus
a set-down! But Lord Witley is Lord Witley and he never lets anyone forget it.”

“Well, I will tell your mother to delete him from her list of eligible young men “ Sir James said, “and quite frankly, if you married a Witley, I should refuse to come to your wedding.”

Cassandra laughed again and then linking her arm in her father’s she said:

“The trouble is, Papa, that I find you so fascinating, so amusing, so clever, and so unusually intelligent, that all other men pale into insignificance beside you.”

Sir James kissed the top of her head.

“You spoil me, Cassandra. At the same time, as you well know, I want the best—the very best—for you, and that is what I intend you to have.”

It was now that the Duke’s belated letter had arrived, that Cassandra found herself for the first time questioning her father’s wisdom where she was concerned.

She knew that, had the Marquis of Charlbury come to stay as had been arranged the previous year, she would have accepted his proposal as her father intended, and by now they would have been married.

‘But,’ she told herself, ‘in the past year I have changed.’

She was not a very young girl standing on the threshold of life, a little bewildered and uncertain of herself, and unsure of what she wanted of the future.

In simple words she had grown up.

At twenty she was no longer a
debutante
, and because she was far more intelligent than the average girl of her age, or indeed of most women at any age, she was prepared to look critically at her suitor and not accept him just because it pleased her father.

Sir James was perceptive enough to know that something was perturbing her, and while he was confident that in due course Cassandra would tell him what it was, he also was aware that he was no longer dealing with a child who would obey him without question.

There was no time to say much more to each other. Dinner was announced and they proceeded to the Dining-Room, Lady Alice being wheeled ahead of Sir James and Cassandra.

As might be expected, the meal was superlatively cooked by a French Chef, whose salary to keep him in Yorkshire was an extravagance which few other men would have contemplated.

There were flowers decorating the Dining-Room table from the huge green-houses which covered over two acres of garden, there were fruits forced in a manner which commanded the admiration of all the horticulturists in the North of England, and Sir James’s gold racing trophies helped to decorate the table.

Sir James seated himself in his high-backed chair and remarked with satisfaction:

“How nice it is to have on either side of me two of the most beautiful women in the world, and to know that tonight I do not have to make polite conversation with a number of boring acquaintances.”

Lady Alice laughed.

“You like having us alone because it is a novelty, but if it was something which occurred too often you would soon be yawning.”

“How can you say anything so unkind?”

Sir James took his wife’s hand and raised it to his lips.

“Have I ever appeared to be bored with you?”

“No, darling,” Lady Alice answered, “but I take very good care that you have many distractions to amuse you.”

It was true, Cassandra thought, watching them. Lady Alice would arrange for all the most attractive and beautiful women she knew to stay at The Towers and be their guests at luncheon, dinner and on every possible occasion.

She sometimes wondered if her mother felt jealous at the way in which they flirted outrageously with her father and obviously set themselves out to use every possible feminine allure to attract him.

Then she knew with that new instinct that she had discovered in herself that Lady Alice held her husband by not appearing to do so.

There was between them an understanding which seemed to enrich their lives, so that Cassandra knew that no-one, however beautiful, would ever take the place of her mother in his affections.

At the same time, she was well aware that Sir James had the reputation of being a Don Juan and that women found him irresistible.

“It is not surprising, Papa,” she had told him once, “because I also find you irresistible and I am your daughter.”

“I can return the compliment,” he said, “and one day when you fall in love, Cassandra, the man to whom you give your heart will find it is possible to express your attraction in words.”

When dinner was over they sat for a little while in the Drawing-Room talking in front of the fire, and then when Lady Alice went up to bed, Cassandra rose to follow her.

“I admit to feeling a little stiff, and also a trifle tired.”

“Are you riding early tomorrow?” her father asked. “I think I might come with you.”

Cassandra hesitated a moment before she replied:

“I think, Papa, I will go to London.”

“To London?” Sir James exclaimed.

He realised that Lady Alice, being propelled towards the lift he had had installed for her, was out of earshot.

“I need some clothes, Papa.”

“But of course! That is understandable. I want you to look your best, Cassandra, when Alchester arrives.”

“I hope I will do that.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, Papa, you know how much it would bore you if I was having fittings all day, and I do not expect I shall stay long.”

“I know your Aunt is at our house in Park Lane,” Sir James said. “I had a letter from her yesterday telling me she had engaged a new Cook.”

The widowed Lady Fladbury had, after her husband’s death, made her home in her step-brothers house in Park Lane.

It was convenient for Cassandra if she wished to go to London at any time to have a Chaperon on the premises, and it suited her Aunt, who had been left in somewhat impecunious circumstances, to live rent free.

“Aunt Eleanor never goes away!” Cassandra said. “So I was certain I would find her there.”

“You will take Hannah?”

“Of course,” Cassandra replied. “I know you would not like me to travel without her.”

“Then the sooner you go to London and come back, the better,” Sir James said, “and by the way, while you are there, have a photograph taken. We shall need it for the newspapers when your engagement is announced.”

“Oh, Papa, you know I hate being photographed.”

“I cannot abide the last one that was taken by that man in York,” Sir James said. “I want an attractive likeness to console me when you have left home.”

“Yes, of course, I had not thought of that. It would be awkward if you forgot what I looked like.”

He smiled at her fondly.

“You know I could never do that. At the same time I want a very good one. Go to Downey’s of Bond Street, who photographed Lily Langtry. I liked the last one I saw of her.”

Cassandra was still for a moment and then she said:

“There is something I want to ask you, Papa. I would like to meet Mrs. Langtry.”

“You would?” Sir James exclaimed in surprise.

“I have heard so much about her,” Cassandra replied, “of her beauty, and the sensation she caused when she went on the stage. I was reading how when she returned from America last year, she was cheered as she stepped from the ship. There were crowds of people waiting on the quay to see her.”

“I read that too,” Sir James said.

“It shows what a place she holds in public affection,” Cassandra went on. “Write me a letter of introduction, Papa, and I will go and see her new play.”

“It is called ‘Enemies’ and it is on at The Prince’s Theatre.”

“Have you seen it yet?”

He shook his head.

“No. I saw the play she was in before. She was good—a little stiff —but she looked entrancingly lovely.”

“Did you take her out to supper, Papa?”

“As a matter of fact, no, I did not,” Sir James answered, “and, as you are so curious, I have not seen her since she returned to England from America last year.”

“Then she will be looking forward to hearing from you again,” Cassandra said. “Give me just a few words of introduction.”

“I do not know her address. You will have to get the coachman to leave it at the theatre. At the same time, I am not really certain your mother would like you to meet an actress, even if it is Mrs. Langtry.”

“We can solve that problem by not telling Mama. I expect she knows that at one time you were fascinated by the most beautiful woman in England, but she may now have forgotten all about it.”

“Then we will not tell her,” Sir James smiled, “and I would rather like you to meet Lily. You are as lovely in your way, Cassandra, as she is in hers.”

He sighed.

“Let me think, she must be twenty-nine, and when I knew her first she was only twenty-two, and the most beautiful creature I ever encountered.”

“You understand, Papa, why I want to meet her? I will just talk to her and see how she captivated the Prince of Wales and Prince Louis of Battenburg, and why the Prime Minister Mr. Gladstone is her friend.”