‘Thank you, thank you very much, Aunt Charlotte. But what about Aunt Dorothy? She has some shares.’
‘Not many. I’m going to buy her out, and she’ll be happy to sell. You don’t need any partners. Always remember that. Anyway, they’re a nuisance in the long run.’
‘You’ve never been a nuisance,’ Cecily pointed out softly, having regained her composure.
‘Thank you for saying that. I’ve tried to stay in the background.’
There was a moment of silence, and then Cecily said, ‘You have some dresses to try on, you know.’
‘Let’s lock up the record books and the documents, and then I will concentrate on my trousseau, I promise.’
Diedre enjoyed her early morning walk to Little Skell Manor, which took her through the park at Cavendon, past the lake where the two snow-white swans floated together in contentment.
She paused for a moment, watching the swans, remembering that they mated for life. If only she had been able to do that … She pushed sorrowful thoughts to one side, and moved along the path at a steady pace. Put the past behind you, she reminded herself.
At one moment, she lifted her head, glanced up at the sky. It was a clear blue on this sunny Saturday morning, and she hoped the good weather would last. She wanted it to be a perfect day tomorrow for her father’s marriage with Charlotte.
How glad she was he had taken this step at long last. There was not a single doubt in her mind that Charlotte would be a wonderful wife … she had actually been exactly that for many years, without the benefit of a legal document.
Diedre had felt the warmth and love of her father, Miles and her sisters last night at the family dinner. It had been like old times, and she had realized how much she had missed everyone.
Funny, she thought now, how we become so entangled in our everyday doings, consumed by our worries and problems. Selfish really, not giving a thought to others.
She aimed to make amends, to stay in touch with her sisters, most especially DeLacy. It struck her last night how fragile DeLacy was – nervous, on edge. At one moment after dinner she had asked Miles if their sister was all right. Miles had said DeLacy was unhappy about the divorce, yet could not live with Simon. Their married life had been full of terrible quarrels and violent upsets that had inevitably torn them apart in the end.
Diedre focused on Miles, who had also been unlucky in love. If he’d ever loved Clarissa, that is. Duty had been at the root. What rotten luck that Clarissa had not produced an heir. On the other hand, perhaps it was for the best. Miles had confided to her that he was going to seek a divorce. Far better in this situation that there were no children involved.
Daphne’s been the luckiest, Diedre thought, her mind suddenly settling on her sister’s adorable and beautiful children. As for Dulcie, she has her life ahead of her. I’m going to take her under my wing; I’m determined to make up for the way I treated her when she was a child, she muttered to herself. Deep inside she was still ashamed of the way she had behaved.
As she walked up the garden path to Great-Aunt Gwendolyn’s house, Diedre managed to empty her mind of these thoughts, and tried to concentrate on what she had to say.
One thing she did know, she could not waste her great-aunt’s time. She wouldn’t sit still for small talk, always needed to get to the heart of the matter. And immediately. Gwendolyn Ingham Baildon was blessed with great intelligence and practicality. Diedre thought she had the most wisdom of anyone in the family.
Lifting the brass hand-knocker on the front door, she banged it once. Almost instantly the door was opened to reveal Mrs Pine, Lady Gwendolyn’s long-time housekeeper, standing there.
Smiling, greeting her warmly, Mrs Pine led her through the front hall and into the parlour. This attractive room, filled with mellow antiques, comfortable sofas and chairs, had two large mullioned windows which overlooked the gardens. The gardens were beautiful; they had been lovingly cultivated by Harry Swann until he had become Miles’s right-hand man, learning estate management with him.
Her great-aunt was sitting on a sofa, waiting for her. ‘There you are, my dear,’ Lady Gwendolyn exclaimed. ‘Punctual as always. I do like that characteristic in people. Those who arrive late are thoughtless. They’re stealing one’s time, don’t you know.’
Diedre nodded. ‘That’s correct. And thank you for agreeing to see me this morning.’ She bent over and kissed her aunt’s cheek.
‘I’m happy to have a little private visit with you, Diedre. Do sit down, my dear, don’t hover.’
Taking a chair next to the sofa, Diedre said, ‘I’ve been informed by a very good friend, a trusted friend, that I have an enemy at the War Office. I was stunned when I heard this. My work has been excellent, and I’ve had promotions over the years. My friend said this enemy could prove dangerous to me.’
Lady Gwendolyn sat up straighter on the sofa and gave Diedre a penetrating look, her eyes narrowing slightly. ‘I don’t like the use of the word “dangerous”, Diedre. Dangerous in what way?’
‘I’m not sure. I think that whoever is against me wants me to be dismissed – pushed out, in other words.’
‘What exactly is it that you do at the War Office? No one seems to know, and you’ve been very wary about discussing it over the years. Which leads me to make the assumption you are in Intelligence. Is that so?’
Diedre leaned forward slightly and said in a low voice, ‘I am not allowed to discuss my work, Great-Aunt. But let me just say that I have never known you to be wrong about anything, and most especially in your assumptions.’
A twitch of a smile crossed Lady Gwendolyn’s face, and she nodded. ‘Now, do you have any indication who this enemy might be? Were you given a name? Or do you suspect anyone of wanting to harm you?’
‘The answer is a definite no to all of your questions. I was rather dumbfounded, actually, when I was told I had an enemy, someone who was out to make trouble for me. I’ve wracked my brains, and I haven’t been able to pinpoint anyone.’
‘Who was the person who informed you, may I ask?’
‘A very old friend, Alfie Fennell,’ Diedre answered. ‘And he was so sincere I believed him.’
‘Is he any relation to Sir Hubert Fennell?’ Lady Gwendolyn asked.
‘Yes. That’s his uncle.’
‘How did young Fennell get to know about this so-called enemy of yours?’ Lady Gwendolyn now asked.
‘Through Johanna Ellsworth. They are cousins. Neither have anything to do with the War Office. Alfie is a barrister, and Johanna does not work. She has a private income.’
‘It seems that your friend Johanna knew about this first and passed it on.’
‘She told Alfie she had heard a strange rumour about me, and she wanted him to alert me, even though she said it was only a rumour.’
‘I think you have to find out who told her.’
‘I did do some probing, and I know the right questions to ask. I gathered that it was just … out there.’
Lady Gwendolyn was silent for a moment before remarking, ‘You say you can’t think of anyone who might