Page 39 of The Fortunes of Ashmore Castle

Caroline enjoyed the dinner and the ball, finding many old friends to talk to, and even dancing – once with someone who had been a beau of hers before she had married Manningtree. He had flirted with her, just a little, and she had enjoyed his subtle suggestion that if Sir James hadn’t cut him out she might even now be Lady Flintshire. But she did not stay to the end. For one thing, the evening had been long and loud, and the solitary pleasures of her bed and a book had an irresistible attraction after ten o’clock. And for a second, she had not had a chance to talk to Maud since her consultation with Sir Henry Felden, and her leaving the ball right at the beginning was concerning.

She had known nothing of Maud’s state of health until yesterday, when she had called in with the prince to say that they would be staying at Claridge’s, and to drop her bombshell. She gave the news without emotion, and when Caroline had tried to express shock and sympathy had cut her off. Her attitude had always been ‘Never complain, never explain.’ There was no sense in even talking about things that could not be helped. But she had said that, to please Usingen, she would consult with Sir Henry that morning. ‘And that’s all I have to say.’

Caroline had known there was no point in asking her for any details as to what ailed her. She had eyed the prince and thought that if she could get him alone she could probably find out more – thanks to their sister Vicky’s early marriage and many holidays at the Wachturm, her German was almost as good as Maud’s – but they left immediately so there was no opportunity. But she had gathered from Maud’s unspoken attitude that she did not think there was anything to be done, and the consultation was only to appease her husband.

As her maid prepared her for bed she thought about her sister, and how much harder their childhood would have been if Maud, the eldest, had not taken on the role of mother to them all, and how the strain of responsibility had hardened her already tough character into adamant. She could only hope that whatever it was Maud had, the end would not be too painful or difficult, and decided that it had been sensible to come home to die rather than in a foreign land. And she felt desperately sorry for the prince, to be losing his new bride so untimely.

She did not sleep well, and was up early the next morning. She went down to breakfast before last night’s revellers were up. She was spreading toast with her favourite lime marmalade and thinking that she ought to visit Grandmère today, and break Maud’s news to her gently, when Sebastian appeared, another early riser. With a subtle gesture she sent Forbes for fresh toast and coffee, and said, ‘What an excellent occasion it was last night, don’t you think?’

‘Went off like a bomb,’ Sebastian said. ‘No-one else about?’

‘I expect they’ll all sleep late after so much dancing. I’m a little too tired myself for church this morning.’

Sebastian cleared his throat and said, ‘Young Tullamore was there.’

‘Oh dear. Why do things have to be so difficult?’ Caroline said, unconsciously repeating Rachel.

‘Can’t think why Maud didn’t settle her last year, when she was all the rage.’

‘But I don’t believe she had any suitable offers,’ Caroline said. ‘It was a question of dowry, you see.’

Sebastian’s own youthful love had been scotched by the unsuitability of his choice. ‘Awful lot of nonsense,’ he rumbled.

Forbes returned with the coffee and they lapsed into silence, until they were roused from their thoughts by the undeniable sound of the street doorbell.

Caroline looked up. ‘Who on earth can it be at this time of the morning?’ It crossed her mind that it might be Angus, hoping for a word with Rachel. Who else would get up so early? Should she allow it, which would be disloyal to Maud? And really not in the children’s best interests either, because there was no point in encouraging them when it was hopeless.

Moments later Forbes appeared at the door, looking put out – it wasn’t right to show visitors into the morning-room – and admitting the Prince and Princess of Usingen.

Maud was fully and fashionably dressed and was looking less composed and calm than usual, with an unexpected amount of colour in her cheeks. And the prince was positively radiant, so Caroline rose to greet them with the happy conviction that it must be good news, that Sir Henry had been able to give some hope.

‘No, I won’t stay for breakfast,’ Maud said, intercepting the enquiry and the order to Forbes. ‘We are on our way back from church. I’m glad to find you alone.’ Her look included Sebastian, so he didn’t offer to leave. ‘I have something to tell you and it will be easier without so many to hear it.’

‘Come and sit down,’ Caroline urged, gesturing towards the sofa and chairs in the bay window.

But Maud remained standing where she was, giving her an almost uncertain look. She waited until Forbes had left the room, and then nervously stripped off one glove, and fiddled with it between her fingers.

Caroline was disturbed all over again. It was unlike Maud to fidget. Perhaps it was bad news after all. ‘It is something about – something Sir Henry said yesterday?’ she urged.

‘Yes,’ said Maud. She glanced at Usingen, who smiled and nodded at her, encouragingly.

‘Oh, do say that it is good news!’ Caroline cried.

Maud recoiled slightly. ‘Please, Caroline, restrain yourself. I cannot bear displays of emotion. My nerves are strained already.’

‘Your nerves?’ Sebastian said, in astonishment. ‘I never knew you to have any.’

Maud ignored him. ‘When I saw Sir Henry and explained the symptoms he said he had little doubt as to the diagnosis but regarded an examination as essential.’ She reddened even at the mention of it. One very good reason never to admit to illness was the horrible embarrassment of submitting to a strange man touching your body.

‘And?’ Caroline prompted. ‘Please don’t keep me in suspense!’

‘It is not as I thought. The symptoms – perhaps at another time I might have guessed.’ She gathered her courage. ‘I am with child. I am going to have a baby.’

Usingen beamed as the words were finally spoken, nodded in delighted confirmation at the other two. He reached out and took her hand, and for a wonder she did not shake him off. The next words broke from her as if against her will, almost in a wail. ‘I thought I was done with all that! It was the last thing I suspected.’

Usingen could contain himself no longer, and broke into a flood of delight in German. He had never been married before, had thought he had left it too late, his family and the whole estate had been afraid he would leave no heir, but his beloved Maud had agreed to marry him and he was so blessed, now everyone would be so happy, almost as happy as he was.

It was well that he filled the silence because Caroline was too astonished for words.