Page 25 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

For his part, Sir Gordon blamed Rachel for leading his son astray, and Maud for not bringing her up properly and controlling her.

In a large house with a large crowd of people things might have passed off without an explosion, but on one evening, to amuse his guests and show off Giulia, Fergus got together some musicians and arranged a ball after dinner.

Sir Roland, seeing Rachel drooping in a corner, hiding herself from Tullamore’s eye, was overcome by good manners and asked her to dance.

She didn’t really want to dance with Sir Gordon watching, but she appreciated the kindness, and she had always enjoyed Scottish dancing.

It reminded her of Angus, who was wonderful at it, so light and springy on his feet it was a revelation.

It was pleasant, anyway, to be partnered again by a handsome young man, even if it wasn’t Angus, and before long she had forgotten her troubles and was dancing with exuberant energy.

But at the end of the set, Sir Gordon stalked over and, without a glance at Rachel, snapped to his son-in-law, ‘You are neglecting your wife, Elrick. Come away.’

Maud, standing nearby, bristled. Come away? As if her daughter was something unpleasant he needed to be saved from! ‘I beg your pardon?’ she said, in her iciest tone.

Sir Gordon turned back, his face reddening ominously. ‘If your daughter had any conduct, she would not display herself on the dance-floor in that shameless way.’

Rachel was white with shock at the words.

Maud seemed to her to swell to twice her size. ‘How dare you speak like that about my daughter?’

‘She has ruined one of my sons, and now seems determined to make a show of my son-in-law. Well, I won’t allow it!’

‘ You won’t allow it?’ Maud’s tone was low, but vibrated with outrage. This was not to be borne! ‘It was I who forbade the match with your son. You would have been fortunate indeed to win a bride for him so far above his station, and well you know it.’

‘His station? My son is a gentleman!’ Tullamore snapped back.

‘It’s a pity the same can’t be said of his father.’ Even Maud thought she had gone too far with those words, but she was riding a flood of long-suppressed anger.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Sir Gordon. ‘You forget who you are talking to, madam!’

‘I know very well whom I am addressing – an industrialist,’ Maud said, with furious scorn. ‘Lady Rachel is the daughter of an earl and the granddaughter of earls on both sides. She may marry wherever she chooses.’

Eyes were turning on them now. Sir Gordon was about to retaliate.

But Maud suddenly felt dizzy. Black spots swirled behind her eyes, she felt pressure in her ears and a wave of nausea as the floor seemed to rise towards her.

A small, cold hand caught her outflung one, and someone guided her a step backwards to a chair.

Seated, she leaned forward and took some deep breaths until the dizziness subsided.

She straightened up to find in front of her not Sir Gordon but their hostess – which did nothing to improve her feelings – and the concerned figure of the prince, stooping over her anxiously.

And the cold hand that had stopped her sinking humiliatingly to the floor turned out to belong to Rachel, who was waiting beside her to be of help.

Maud gave her a grateful look, probably the first she had ever given Rachel in her life, and allowed her and Paul to help her to her feet.

Giulia was asking what was wrong and what she could do to help, and Rachel it was who answered. ‘My mother is tired,’ she said, in a voice in which probably only Maud could detect the quiver. ‘I will see her to her room. Please don’t fuss.’

At the door Maud put Rachel’s hand away from her and slipped her arm through her husband’s, and Rachel accepted the hint and stepped back.

Fergus intercepted them. ‘Are you all right, Maudie?’

‘Just tired, dear,’ Maud said. ‘I’m going to bed. Don’t stop the fun on my account.’

That was the advice Fergus really wanted to hear. He beamed. ‘Have a good rest, old dear. You’ll feel better in the morning,’ he said, and turned back to the dancing.

What a boy he was, Maud thought fondly.

In the bedroom, Miss Taylor was waiting. The prince bowed and kissed his wife’s hand with a concerned look and asked, in German, ‘May I return later? To see how you are?’

He must have hovered somewhere outside, because as soon as Miss Taylor left, he came back in. Maud was in her dressing-gown, sitting at the dressing-table, and he crossed the room and laid a hand on her forehead. ‘You have no fever,’ he observed. ‘How do you feel? No pains anywhere?’

‘Just tired,’ she said. She gestured him to the nearest chair. She didn’t like to be fussed, though in her vulnerable state, she found his tender concern rather touching.

‘I think you are doing too much,’ he said. ‘Remember your condition.’

‘I do remember it,’ she said. He might have warned her not to risk his child’s health, but he didn’t, and she was grateful. And suddenly she realised how very tired she really was. ‘I want to go home,’ she said, and the words burst out of her almost without her volition.

Paul looked cautious. ‘To Ashmore Castle?’

‘No, to Usingerhof,’ she said. ‘To our home.’

Her reward was the surprised delight that rushed over his face. ‘Yes, yes,’ he said softly, in German, ‘that is our home indeed. Oh, my heart’s dearest, I wish more than anything to see you there, installed where you are queen of all, beloved and safe. Shall we go at once?’

‘In the morning,’ she said, smiling at his eagerness. Oh, she must be in a weakened state indeed to be smiling at him! ‘Leave me now, my dear.’

In the morning she did not rise when Miss Taylor came in with her tea tray, but told her she would take breakfast in bed, and was glad that her maid was too well trained to show any surprise. As she went out, Rachel came in, dressed except for her hair, and with a shining morning face.

‘Oh, Mama,’ she cried, ‘did you mean it? Really?’

Maud couldn’t think what she was referring to. ‘Please don’t gush,’ she extemporised. ‘And speak quietly.’

‘Have you a headache?’ Rachel asked, in immediate concern, and a very quiet voice.

‘What do you want?’ Maud asked, instead of answering.

‘I won’t bother you, if you’re not feeling well.’

‘I am perfectly well, and we will be leaving this morning, so say what you have to say and go away. There is packing to do.’

Rachel wilted a little. ‘I just wanted to know if you meant what you said last night – about my being able to marry anyone I want.’

Maud was about to explain that she had only meant Rachel might look as high as she pleased.

But then she thought again. She was going to have a baby, and that was surely enough to be going on with.

Did she really want to drag an unwilling daughter with her, suffer her sulks and complaints?

She thought of all the time and effort she had put into bringing Rachel out; but she simply didn’t have the energy to keep fighting now.

She said, ‘The prince and I are going back to Usingerhof. You may come with us, or stay at Ashmore, whichever you prefer.’

Rachel did not rejoice yet. She looked at her mother cautiously. ‘But – about marrying anyone?’

‘Can the Tullamore boy support you?’’

‘He has a good position, and he’s working hard and saving up. He says he will be able to in a year or so.’

Maud shook her head at the thought of ‘saving up’, and the sort of home Rachel would have, compared with what she was so blithely bent on giving up. But in ‘a year or two’, anything might happen. ‘You have my permission to become engaged,’ she said. ‘And we shall see how it goes.’

Rachel’s smile was as much astonishment as joy. ‘Oh, Angus is very sensible! And hard-working! He’ll look after me, truly! Oh, Mama, thank you!’

Maud allowed one grateful kiss on her cheek before pushing her back. ‘I hope you won’t regret it. But I’ve done my best for you. Go away now.’

She was up and dressed after her tray breakfast and preparing to go downstairs, so as to leave Taylor to pack, when Linda came in. Maud sighed in anticipation of a tirade, but Linda was subdued, almost gentle in her manner.

‘Is it true that you are going back to the Usingerhof right away?’

‘With a short stay in London on the way, yes.’

‘Take me with you,’ Linda said. Maud raised an eyebrow.

‘Servants are all very well, husbands are all very well, but you need a woman to help you through the birth. And afterwards I can manage your nursery – you won’t want to do that yourself.

You need a companion, Mama, someone of equal rank, someone who speaks English. ’ She gave a tense smile. ‘A friend.’

‘A friend?’ Maud was bemused. But, yes, she could see it.

She spoke excellent German, but sometimes, wouldn’t one want to converse in one’s own tongue?

German doctors were excellent, but a woman giving birth wanted someone closer to rely on.

A companion . . . A princess should have a lady-in-waiting.

And a daughter who remembered the same things and had the same references – a grateful daughter .

. . And if in time she found a suitable husband among Usingen’s friends for Linda, she would have her settled nearby, and that would be a comfort.

A thought came to her. ‘What about your children?’

‘Oh, they’ll stay at Ashmore. No point in uprooting them.’

She relaxed. ‘Very well, you can come,’ she said.

After all, if it didn’t work out, she could always send her back.