Page 11 of The Affairs of Ashmore Castle

‘Northampton is so dull, Auntie! The married women I meet are much older than me, and all they talk about is their children and their servants and their ailments. The only time I have a proper conversation, it’s with Decius. But he’s so busy, it’s hardly more than once a week that he has time to chat.’ Decius Blake was Mr Cowling’s secretary and factotum.

Aunt Schofield seem to recoil slightly. ‘My dear Nina,’ she protested. She was watching Nina’s little dog Trump bustle round the room, sniffing all the new smells, and interrupted herself to say, ‘If that dog makes a mess—’

‘He won’t. He’s very good now. And I made sure he went outside before we came in.’

‘I’d have thought you’d have left it at home. London is no place for a dog.’

‘But Mrs Mitchell hates him so, I was afraid something might happen to him if I left him. That’s the other thing,’ Nina rushed on, suspecting she was about to be stopped. ‘I thought I could do things about the house, but Mrs Mitchell simply hates any interference. I moved a little table the other day because it was in my way when I went to the window, and she came and quizzed me about it and said everything in the house was the way Mr Cowling liked it, as she should know having been his housekeeper for twenty years. I don’t understand,’ she went on, forestalling her aunt’s indrawn breath, ‘how she even knew I’d moved it. I think Nellie must have told her. I’m sure the servants spy on me. The only thing I’ve managed to change is that we have Gayetty’s Medicated Squares instead of newspaper in the privy. And Mrs Mitchell only agreed to that because it frees Nellie from having to cut up the newspapers and gives her more time for spying.’

She paused for breath and Aunt Schofield seized the moment. ‘My dear Nina, listen to yourself!’ she said. ‘I didn’t expect this flood of complaint. You were fully aware when you accepted Mr Cowling that your life would change. You were not forced into the marriage. I took pains, indeed, to make you think hard about it. And now, because married life is not perfect in every respect—’

Nina broke in. ‘I miss your parties, and your friends. We had such wonderful conversations. About everything in the world. But all Mr Cowling’s friends discuss at dinner is business, and their wives! Mrs Amberley, for instance, talks endlessly about the trouble she has with her teeth.’

‘Nina, stop,’ Aunt Schofield said sternly. ‘You are not a child any more. You are a grown woman, a married woman. I’ve taken care of you as I promised your father I would do, but you are not my responsibility any more. I have a life of my own to lead. Find something to do with yourself – and if you can’t, you are not the Nina I brought up. Above all, do not come complaining to me about your lot. I have no more advice to give you – and these domestic frictions are as uninteresting to me as Mrs Amberley’s teeth are to you.’

Nina felt as though she had been slapped. Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them back, knowing they would only annoy her aunt, and shut her lips tight. Aunt Schofield immediately began talking about a lecture she had attended at Senate House, and Nina tried to listen and respond intelligently. She found it difficult, which made her fear that her mind was already deteriorating; and she was actually quite glad when her aunt cut the visit short, saying that she had a prior engagement to keep.

From Draycott Place Nina went to the Morrises’ house, where the parents of her best friend Lepida hugged and petted her, Lepida took off her hat with her own hands and brought her sherry, and Trump was cooed over, then borne off by a maid to the kitchen to be spoiled. In the drawing-room the chat flowed freely, interspersed with laughter. Mawes Morris was a famous cartoonist, and had acquaintances in every field, from sportsmen to actors to financiers to the King himself, so he always had amusing stories to tell.

He talked about a small dinner he had attended two days earlier, given for the King by Sir Ernest Cassel. ‘Hamilton at the Treasury deplores the King’s dining with Cassel,’ he said. ‘He thinks the King should dine only with the upper classes. But the fact is that Tum knows his own interest. Cassel is some sort of genius when it comes to money. The King gave him twenty thousand to invest last November, and by January it was worth thirty thousand, despite the fact that the King had withdrawn ten thousand just before Christmas!’

‘I wish he’d do as much for us,’ said Isabel Morris. ‘You should ask him, Mawes.’

‘Next time I have twenty thousand to spare I certainly shall,’ Mawes laughed.

‘Does Mr Cowling invest with Cassel, Nina?’ Isabel asked.

‘I don’t know,’ said Nina. ‘I know they’re acquainted, but Mr Cowling doesn’t talk to me about money.’

‘Quite right,’ said Mawes. ‘There are better subjects to beguile the ladies. And talking finance makes men dull. Cassel is not the most sparkling of company, it must be said, but he’s so important to the King they call him Windsor Cassel! I’m thinking of doing a cartoon on the subject, by the by, if the right moment comes. I’d need a story to attach it to. And if Cassel can’t talk, he knows how to surround himself with those who can. The Keppels were at the dinner, and they’re both amusing and witty. Mrs George Keppel in particular – she always has something interesting to say, and says it in such an engaging way. She has great charm – though she’s not really a beauty.’

Nina asked a question she had often wanted to voice, but could not have done when she was an unmarried girl. ‘Is it true that Mrs Keppel is the King’s mistress?’

‘It’s hard to say,’ Mawes answered. ‘She’s certainly the King’s favourite, and he admires her intensely. Can’t take his eyes off her when she’s present. But I get the impression it’s more a matter of companionship than passion. It must be a lonely business, being king.’

‘Yes, poor king, surrounded by adoring people hanging on his every word,’ Lepida agreed.

‘Toadies and flatterers, looking for preferment,’ said Isabel. ‘Not true friends.’

‘But I’m sure Mrs George genuinely likes him,’ said Mawes. ‘Though the Keppels certainly do all right out of the relationship. You may get to meet her one of these days, Nina. And the King.’

‘Me?’ Nina stared in surprise.

‘Why not? As Hamilton said, most disobligingly, if the King can dine with Cassel he can dine anywhere. Why not with the Cowlings? You may become a woman of influence, a great political hostess.’

‘Mawes, don’t tease the girl,’ Isabel said.

Nina reflected that the first time she had met Mr Cowling, he had been in a party the King had brought to a country-house ball she was attending with Kitty. Mr Cowling knew the King, gave him advice, lent him money. It was not beyond the realms of possibility that he should entertain him one day. But then she thought about Beechcroft House in Northampton, with its Victorian clutter, and Mrs Mitchell, and the plain, serviceable meals that were served there, and imagination failed.

‘Don’t worry, Nina,’ said Mawes solemnly. ‘If you ever have to be hostess to royalty and the great names of the day, I’ll come and give you advice. As long as you let me draw everyone. I’ll conceal myself behind a curtain – they’ll never know I’m there.’

‘If I’m hostess to the great names of the day,’ Nina promised him solemnly, ‘you’ll all be among the guests.’

It was balm to her feelings to be with people who so obviously liked her and enjoyed her company. Her aunt’s rejection had hurt her more than she would admit.

And when Trump was brought back in, he was much rounder, and seemed very satisfied with life.

After leaving the Morrises, Nina took a cab to Piccadilly and wandered through the Burlington Arcade to look at the shops. She bought herself a pair of good nail scissors, and pondered a pretty silk scarf but could not raise enough enthusiasm to buy it. Mr Cowling had told her to buy herself things, but there didn’t seem any point, for her life in Northampton. She didn’t want to go back there – didn’t belong there – but she didn’t belong in London any more, either. Then she shook herself. No self-pity! Aunt was right, she was a grown woman and had made her decision with a cool head. Now she must make the best of things. And Mr Cowling was very kind to her. She decided to go across to Fortnum’s and buy him a jar of the particular relish he was fond of, to show him she cared for him.