When, after a short delay, her mother answered, she blurted out, ‘Mum, it’s me.’
‘It’s very late to ring. Is there something wrong?’ Joan asked, her voice concerned.
‘No, there’s nothing wrong. Just the opposite. I know it’s a bit late, but I wanted to give you the good news without delay. I’m getting married.’
Quickly, before the questions started to flow, Charlotte told her mother the relevant details.
‘This Wednesday!’ Joan sounded staggered. ‘It’s all so sudden. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?’
‘Well, everything’s happened quite quickly and—’
‘But I’ve never even heard you mention anyone called Simon.’
Somewhat hampered by Simon’s presence, Charlotte said carefully, ‘We haven’t known each other all that long. You might say it was love at first sight—’
Only when the words were out did she realise it was the wrong thing to say.
Sounding even more anxious, Joan broke in, ‘I’ve always mistrusted that kind of thing. Too often it’s just infatuation. Love should have time to grow.’
‘Normally I would agree with you but—’
‘Surely it would be a lot wiser to wait a while and give it some thought?’ Joan insisted.
‘Simon doesn’t want to wait, you see—’
‘As you don’t have to get married…’ Then, obviously horrified by the idea, she cried, ‘You don’t, do you? You’re not pregnant?’
Feeling guilty because she could so easily be, Charlotte said, ‘No, of course not.’
Joan breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Then it would be a big mistake to rush into things. My advice is, take your time.’
‘We haven’t much time. You see, Simon would like his grandfather, who is terminally ill, to be present at the wedding, and—’
‘But we don’t know a thing about this Simon; we haven’t even set eyes on him. You might be making a terrible mistake, and you know what they say—marry in haste, repent at leisure…’
Seeing the hunted look on Charlotte’s face, Simon took the phone off her and said quietly, ‘Mrs Harris, this is Simon Farringdon. I realise the suddenness must have come as something of a shock for you, and I do apologise. However, all the arrangements are in place, and things will be going ahead as planned—’
‘I do think you should—’
‘It would give us great pleasure if you and your husband could get over for the wedding,’ Simon cut in smoothly. ‘And we’d be delighted if you would be our guests at Farringdon Hall.’
‘As it’s such short notice, I—’
‘There’s no need to worry about arranging flights; I’ll be happy to send the company jet for you.’
‘How very kind,’ she said faintly. ‘But I don’t think…’ Then in a rush, ‘To tell you the truth, I’m frightened to death of flying. Just the thought makes me ill—’
‘That’s a great pity, but we do understand.’
His voice holding a polite but decided finality, he added, ‘Now, as it’s so late, we’d better wish you goodnight. I’m sure Charlotte will fill you in on all the details when we get back from our honeymoon.’
He replaced the receiver, before asking half-jokingly, ‘How on earth did you survive?’
‘She loves me. It’s just that she’s always been overly concerned about me.’
‘So much concern must have been a little bit wearisome.’
‘Dad diluted it somewhat, and shortly after he died I went away to college.’
‘That must have been a relief.’
‘It was,’ she admitted. ‘Though at the time I felt terribly disloyal.’
He raised a level brow. ‘Why was that?’
‘Because I was one of the lucky ones,’ she said quietly. ‘Some of my fellow students had no one who cared, and everyone needs someone to love them and be concerned about them.’
A strange look flitted across his face, but before she could decipher it, it was gone.
Rising to his feet, he suggested, ‘Perhaps you’d like to take a look at the books, while I go and put Grandfather in the picture?’
Books had always been a pleasure to her and for the next fifteen minutes or so, putting aside the slight feeling of agitation caused by the phone call, she browsed happily.
She was sitting on the couch, a seventeenth-century volume open on her lap, when Simon returned. Coming over to sit by her side, he took her left hand and slipped a ring onto her fourth finger.
A single magnificent diamond in a simple gold setting, it fitted perfectly.
‘This was my mother’s, but if you don’t like it please don’t hesitate to say so, and tomorrow we’ll look for something else.’
‘It’s absolutely beautiful,’ she said huskily, and lifted her face for his kiss.
Instead of kissing her, however, with an almost businesslike air, he took a slim leather case from his pocket and flicked it open with his thumb nail.
On the blue velvet lining lay a thin gold chain with an exquisite, many-faceted diamond ‘teardrop’ that seemed to sparkle with an inner fire.
She caught her breath.
‘It would please Grandfather enormously if you would wear this on your wedding day.’
‘Is it a family heirloom?’
‘In a manner of speaking. In the early fifteen-hundreds it was given to Carlotta Bell-Farringdon by an Italian nobleman who was madly in love with her. Since then it’s been known as the Carlotta Stone, and, as Carlotta is the Italian form of Charlotte, it seems very fitting.’
Charlotte reached the stone gently. ‘It’s beautiful and I’d love to wear it,’ she said.
‘Ah, this appears to be Miss Macfadyen arriving.’
Following his gaze through the leaded window-panes Charlotte saw a grey chauffeur-driven limousine was just drawing up on the gravel apron.
‘If you want to go and meet her…?’ He closed the jewel case with a snap. ‘I’ll just lock this away before I join you.’
As she made to take off the ring, he said, ‘No, leave that on. I’d like you to wear it.’
A smile on her lips, Charlotte hurried outside to see Sojo descending from the car with all the panache of visiting royalty.
Her blonde hair had been newly washed and tamed into a shining, two-layered, shoulder-length bob. She was dressed up to the nines in her best jade-green trouser suit and a trailing scarf of the type that strangled Isadora Duncan.
While the chauffeur lifted out the luggage, her gaze ranging over the Hall, she exclaimed, ‘Imagine you living in a place like this…!’
Then, catching sight of Charlotte’s ring, ‘Wowee! Just look at the size of that rock! A family heirloom at a guess?’
‘It belonged to Simon’s mother.’
‘Do you know I’m black and blue? I’ve been pinching myself all the way here just to make absolutely sure I wasn’t dreaming.’
‘I must admit I’ve felt like doing the same,’ Charlotte confessed. ‘Everything’s happened so fast.’
‘You’re not kidding!