Page 97 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle (Ashmore Castle #3)

‘Pink diamonds. Normally I wouldn’t buy them, because they’re not as good as white or blue, or even yellow. But these are such a good colour, and of exceptional clarity and brilliance, I couldn’t pass them up. And you look so pretty in pink.’

‘I’ve never seen pink ones before. How lovely! And how kind you are.’

‘Nonsense, not kind at all. Let me pin it on for you. There now. Oh, very handsome! Those diamonds must be feeling very proud, being worn by a lovely woman like you.’

She laughed, because she knew he wanted her to, and then said, ‘It makes my present to you seem very dull, I’m afraid. Here – with my love. Merry Christmas, Joseph.’

He unwrapped the parcel, being careful not to tear the paper, and coiling up the string from thrifty habit.

It was a book, very recently published: The Theory of Business Enterprise by Thorstein Veblen.

It was about the clash between the two great impulses, of business and of industry – which Nina had not realised were different things.

According to the author, business was the making of profit, and industry was the making of goods, and the two things were in conflict with each other.

All this she knew because Decius had told her about the book and what it concerned, and had said that Mr Cowling would love to have a copy.

She looked anxiously now at his face as he turned a page or two. ‘I hope it isn’t a disappointment. I was thinking of a cigarette case, but then someone said you’d been longing to read this—’

He looked up, smiling. ‘Let me guess: someone whose name begins with a D? I happened to mention to him . . . Oh, my! Disappointed? I couldn’t be more pleased! A cigarette case wouldn’t have been as – personal as this. This is something you’ve really thought about. Thank you, my darling.’

She laughed with relief. ‘I’m glad it’s you who has to read it, and not me.’

‘Oh, Nina,’ he said, and between the first word and the second his voice went from elation to sadness. He put the book down and took both her hands in his.

She wanted to say, Please don’t. Don’t say anything about disappointment. Not now .

But he did. He said, ‘I know this isn’t what you expected from getting married.

You were fresh to life, full of hope and ideas .

. . Lord knows, I never expected you to say yes in the first place.

But I thought I had the – the wherewithal to make you happy.

I meant you to be, you know. And I’ve failed you. ’

‘No,’ she said. ‘No.’

‘It’s not the way I wanted it to be. And there doesn’t seem to be anything to be done about it. But I want to make it up to you – or, at least, make it come out all right for you. As right as it can be. So I’ve a suggestion.’

‘Please don’t,’ she said. ‘Please don’t say any more.’

He lifted a hand. ‘Hear me out,’ he said.

‘This is not easy for me to say, and it won’t be easy for you to hear.

And you might be shocked. You might be offended.

But before I say it, I want you to know that I love you, more than ever, and though I know you don’t love me the same way, I think you are fond of me, a bit – aren’t you? ’

‘Oh, Joseph!’

‘So this might be the solution – the thing that’ll make it come out all right. With good will on both sides, I think it could.’

In her distress she couldn’t find any words. And taking her silence as consent to continue, he told her his idea.

It was not easy for the telegraph boy to get his bicycle up the hill through the remains of the snow, and since Uncle Stuffy had sent the telegram from the station before mounting the train, it gave barely enough time to put the horses to and get down to Canons Ashmore station to meet him.

Rachel was in a panic. ‘He didn’t say Mama was with him, did he?’

‘No,’ said Giles. ‘It just says, “Arriving by the 1.55. Please meet.”’

‘But it doesn’t say it’s just him. It might be both of them. All three of them.’

‘Why should Mother and the prince be travelling with Uncle Stuffy?’ Giles said patiently.

Rachel dithered on the spot, like someone preparing to bolt.

‘I assure you, if Mother was coming back she’d have said so.

We’ve only sent two horses to meet Uncle Stuffy.

She’d expect four, you know that. She wouldn’t risk being met without due ceremony. ’

‘Oh,’ said Rachel. ‘I expect you’re right.’

‘We’ll put Lord Leake in the Waterloo Room,’ said Mrs Webster to Afton. ‘Thank goodness we’ve got enough good sheets now. Once when he came he got a sides-to-middled sheet because that was simply all we had, and he sent McGregor down to request a different room.’

‘McGregor’s his manservant?’

‘Yes, and look out for him. A more savage temper there never was on a human being. I had nightmares about that sheet for weeks afterwards.’

Afton smiled. ‘I’m sure you didn’t. I can’t imagine anything flustering you.’

‘I wasn’t flustered, just frost-bitten. Now I must go and speak to Mrs Terry about dinner tonight. He’s a great diner, is Lord Leake. We can’t give him hashes. The leftover pie is all right – her pastry is so good it will carry it – but there will have to be a joint.’

‘We’ve pheasants enough in the game larder,’ Afton pointed out.

‘But he’ll expect a joint as well as game. Someone will have to go down to the butcher. Who can you spare, Mr Afton?’

‘You can have Sam. He’s intelligent and quick.’

‘Then he can see if the butcher has any sweetbreads, as well, for a savoury. Lord Leake is very fond of fried sweetbreads.’

‘You’d better let me have the menu as soon as possible, so I can look out the wines,’ said Afton. ‘Is it usual for his lordship to descend like this, without notice?’

‘No,’ said Mrs Webster, ‘it isn’t. He’s a great one for his comfort, likes to be sure everything’s in place for him before he arrives. And it’s a strange time to be coming. Wherever he goes for Christmas, he arrives well before and stays until well afterwards. I hope it’s not bad news.’

‘People generally send bad news by letter or telegram, don’t they?’ Afton said comfortingly. ‘They don’t dash down to deliver it in person.’

‘Perhaps not,’ Mrs Webster said doubtfully, then shook herself. ‘We’ll know soon enough, I dare say. Send Sam to me in the kitchen right away, will you, and I’ll give him his instructions once I’ve agreed with Mrs Terry. She’ll want to make a special sweet for him, too, I expect.’

‘Lucky man,’ said Afton, turning away.

‘Well, it’s nice to cook for someone who appreciates it,’ said Mrs Webster.

It was too cold for the family to assemble outside on the steps to greet Uncle Stuffy.

They waited for him in the great hall, where there was a good fire.

Rachel fidgeted on the spot as she waited to see if he was indeed alone, and Kitty threw her a compassionate look.

There were sounds of arrival outside, murmured voices, and then he was there, pulling off his heavy, fur-lined gloves and the travelling-cap with the lappets and handing them to Afton.

His face was wreathed with smiles. Not bad news, then , Afton thought. He could tell them that downstairs.

Giles came forward to shake his hand, Kitty at his elbow. ‘What a pleasant surprise, Uncle. How nice to see you. Did you have a pleasant journey?’

‘I’ve only come from London. Wretched train, no heating, but I had my big rug so I was all right.

McGregor tells me some Scotch feller has invented a patent glass bottle in a metal case that uses a vacuum to keep liquids hot.

Don’t ask me how that works, but it means you could carry hot tea or soup with you on a journey, for when the train has no restaurant car.

Excellent idea. Have to get one of those if I’m going to be dashing back and forth at all times of year. ’

‘And will you?’ Giles asked.

He chuckled. ‘Looks quite likely. Given the situation.’

‘What is the situation, Uncle Stuffy?’

‘No more of that “Stuffy” nonsense, if you please! I’m Fergus, or Lord Leake from now on. Got to have a bit of dignity. Stuffy’s not a name for a married man.’

‘But you’re not married,’ Giles said, bewildered. ‘Are you?’

‘As good as. On the brink – head in the noose. Engaged, at any rate. It’s all official, you know. Just the wedding to arrange.’

‘Who—’ Giles got as far as asking, and broke off as someone else came into the hall. Rachel gave an audible gasp.

The newly designated Uncle Fergus looked over his shoulder, and said, ‘Look who I picked up at the station! He came down on the same train, but he was in third class for some reason, so I didn’t know.

Spotted him on the platform when I got out, otherwise the silly lad would have had to walk up to the Castle, because I noticed when we went through the yard that there was no cab there.

I told him, “There’ll be a carriage waiting for me, no sense in ruining your boots.

Nothing worse than water-marks on leather” – am I right, Afton? ’

‘Yes, indeed, my lord,’ Afton said, passing Lord Leake’s outerwear to the waiting William so that he could help divest the newcomer.

Angus looked worn, disarranged from travel, and distressed. ‘I’m so sorry to burst in on you like this, without notice,’ he said to Giles, and encompassed Kitty with an apologetic glance.

She was quick to reassure him, recognising a crisis to be dealt with. ‘It’s quite all right. You’re welcome at any time,’ she said. But the question was all over her face: What on earth are you doing here?

Tiger and Isaac were fawning over Angus, severely hampering his attempts to get out of his greatcoat. He looked whitely past Kitty at Rachel, who burst into noisy tears.

‘Now, now, now,’ Fergus said to her. ‘None of that. Don’t want any waterfalls when I’m trying to deliver my good news. Didn’t you hear me say that I’m going to be married?’

Kitty was telling Afton in a low voice to have a room prepared for Angus.

Rachel was trying to staunch her tears with a handkerchief and Angus was staring at her, biting his lips, while Linda was staring at Angus, evidently about to bark the question Kitty had only thought.

And William had dropped one of Fergus’s leather gauntlets, and Tiger had pounced on it, obviously meaning to worry it to death.

‘We heard you, Uncle,’ Giles said, feeling he was caught up in some vaudeville burlesque. ‘You didn’t pick up anyone else on the way? I’m not going to see a troupe of clowns or performing dogs come tumbling through that door next?’

‘What? What?’ said Fergus, staring at him blankly. ‘You think the circus is in town?’

‘You haven’t told us,’ Giles said, with desperate patience, ‘whom you are going to marry.’

But he had a horrid feeling that he knew.