Page 73 of The Secrets of Ashmore Castle

‘He asked you?’ James said derisively.

‘James!’ Moss rebuked. ‘Remember Mr Crooks is your superior.’

Cyril muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘superior ass’ and Wilfrid, the house boy, sniggered.

‘So he’s mad in love with her?’ asked Ellen.

‘Course he is,’ said Tilda. ‘Must be, else he wouldn’t be marrying her.’

Mrs Webster saw a minefield ahead and changed the direction. ‘An early wedding, I believe?’ she said. ‘So much the better. Long engagements don’t do anyone any good. In London, I suppose?’

‘I believe the Bayfields are keeping the house in Berkeley Street for the wedding.’

‘St George’s, Hanover Square,’ said Miss Taylor, with authority. ‘That’s where Mayfair gentry get married.’

‘I’m sure you’re right, Miss Taylor,’ Crooks said politely, recognising an ally.

‘Pity it can’t take place here,’ said Moss. ‘We haven’t had a wedding here since Lady Linda’s. Now that was a wedding to remember. Everything done just as it ought. The wedding cake was four feet across, the bottom tier. And Lady Linda’s train needed six bridesmaids to hold it up.’

‘I thought Lady Cordwell’d still be in residence when we got back,’ Crooks said. ‘Do you know where she’s gone, Mr Moss?’

‘The Isle of Wight,’ the butler supplied.

Mrs Webster provided more detail. ‘Lord Cordwell managed to get an invitation to a friend’s house on the island. Of course, it’s quiet there now, Cowes Week not being until August. I don’t suppose he’d have got the invitation in August.’

‘It’ll be nice for the children, playing on the beach, sea-bathing and so on,’ said Crooks, doubtfully, ‘though it doesn’t sound like Lady Cordwell’s style.’

‘No, but it’s free,’ Rose said caustically.

Moss asked, ‘Was anything said about the destination for the honeymoon, Mr Crooks? I suppose we daren’t dream they would come here?’

‘Abroad,’ said Crooks, with a touch of gloom. ‘Paris first, then Italy, I believe.’

‘Not Egypt, then?’ said Moss. ‘He won’t be showing his bride the Pyramids?’

This alarming thought hadn’t occurred to Crooks. ‘Not as far as I know. Oh dear, surely he’d have said if that was the plan. Egypt? I don’t see how one could keep up standards there. All that sand – it gets everywhere.’

‘Just like on the Isle of Wight,’ said Rose.

It startled Giles to discover that since he had last seen her, his mother had left off heavy blacks: she’d been wearing them since his return from Thebes, so he’d got used to the sight.

She was still sombrely dressed, in a gown of purple-grey twilled shot silk. She noticed him looking, and said impatiently, ‘Half-mourning. It’s been six months – and you could hardly get married with me in deep mourning. Speaking of which, your aunt Caroline says the Bayfield girl is suitable, though her father is only a baronet. But it’s an old creation. She looked it up in The Baronetage before she put the child on her list. Created in 1661. The Coronation honours of Charles II.’ She frowned at him. ‘Why are you back here already?’

‘There’s estate business I have to see to.’

‘The decencies must be observed, if we are not to provoke gossip. The marriage will look improperly hasty if everything is not done to form. You must have her and her parents here for a visit.’

‘Here?’

‘As soon as possible,’ Lady Stainton said implacably. ‘I suggest Saturday – best to get it over with as soon as possible. They will come for luncheon, you will show them around during the afternoon, and they’ll stay for dinner and overnight. You may leave all that to me. They will return the invitation, which we must accept, I’m afraid. What are you doing about a bride gift?’

‘I didn’t know one was required.’

‘You had better find out what sort of thing she likes before the wedding day. Stainton gave me the four Corot souvenirs that used to hang in my dressing-room. You might not remember them – they were sold during the crisis. I never liked them much – rather dreary, I thought them. I’d just as soon have had a dog, but Stainton didn’t ask.’

The dogs had greeted his return with profound but largely dignified joy. It was his sisters who bounced around him, like excited puppies.

‘Oh, Giles, tell us all about her! Is she pretty?’ Alice cried.