Epilogue
STAINEYBANK, brINSHIRE; JUNE
The baptism of Miss Caroline Georgiana Merrington was a rather grander affair than might have been expected, for a great many people crowded into the Staineybank chapel to watch Mr Godley rouse the infant to loud rage by the splash of water on her face.
Beside the proud parents stood the godparents, namely Mr Simon Payne, Mrs Georgie Hastings and Miss Charlotte Merrington.
Behind them stood the duke, the stern countenance for once wreathed in smiles.
After the service, the principal participant was whisked away to the nursery by her parents to be pacified and cuddled and thoroughly doted upon, while the rest of the attendees drifted into the morning room, where refreshments were laid out.
The event would normally have called for the more formal setting of the White Drawing Room, but preparations for a much greater event were underway elsewhere in the house, so that all the principal rooms were filled with footmen rushing about with chairs, the kitchen boy carrying a great mountain of candle boxes, maids with cloths and china and glasses, and the gardeners with vases of flowers.
Outside on the drive, an army of local men laboured to erect a vast pavilion on the drive to shield the Marble Hall from draughts whenever anyone entered or left.
Staineybank was about to experience an event not seen for many years — a grand ball.
It was not to be expected that Sophia could sit quietly while all this was going on, so she soon slipped out of the morning room and made her way on light feet to the Marble Hall, where the tiled floor had been covered in protective matting and a wooden floor placed on top for the dancing.
Oh, the joy of a proper ball! The assemblies had begun in Brinchester, and that had satisfied her need to dance for a little while, but there was nothing to compare with a private ball, and this one was particularly delightful since it was in her honour.
Simon soon followed her into the Marble Hall, giving her that intimate little smile that she had grown to love so much. She could not have believed when she first came to Staineybank that she could be so happy.
“Are your dancing slippers ready for the onslaught?” he said, gently pulling her aside as two footmen with a ladder rushed past them.
“Oh yes! I have been ready for days, with two alternative gowns prepared if Lily’s modiste fails me. Is it not time that the London contingent arrived?”
“I think it may be precisely time. Do you hear the sound of an approaching carriage?”
Excitedly, Sophia stepped around the artists busily chalking the floor and went out of the front door, then through the partially erected pavilion to the drive.
The carriage decanted the smiling faces of Simon’s brother Andrew, the Earl of Edlesborough, and his wife, bearing a well-wrapped package.
Behind them, clutching a new bonnet to her head, was Juliet.
“We come bearing gifts!” Andrew cried, as soon as his feet were safely on the drive. “Lavinia has been carefully nursing yours on her knee all the way from town, Sophia, and it slept at the end of our bed at night, too. It is far too precious to be stowed in the boxes.”
“Boxes get rained on and thrown around and occasionally fall off and burst asunder,” the countess said, “and that cannot be permitted. Shall we go inside and see what Madame Labette has created for you, my dear?”
“Oh yes,” breathed Sophia, “but I must know — did you manage to acquire the other thing? For that is far more important.”
“Whatever can you mean?” Simon murmured, eyes twinkling. “What can possibly be more important than a ball gown?”
“Do not tease her, Simon,” the countess said. “Yes, Andrew has the special licence, so you two may be married whenever you please. Today, if you wish it.”
“The day after tomorrow, and not a moment sooner,” Sophia said in her severest tones.
“Cousin Hester would be outraged if all her careful arrangements were to be set at nought. A ball tonight, a day of rest tomorrow and the wedding the day after that. One does not marry on impulse, just because one has a licence. It is simply not done.”
“Indeed!” the countess said, laughing. “Come, let us open this parcel at once, for I cannot wait a moment longer to see your gown.”
“I must find my sisters first,” Sophia said. “And Lily, too. They would not miss the occasion for the world. Juliet, will you come, too? Did you have a wonderful time in London?”
“Indeed I did,” Juliet said, a beatific smile on her face. “I have never bought so many gowns in my life.”
“And bonnets,” Sophia said, reaching up to touch a gently waving feather.
“Is it not the most delicious confection?” Juliet said, in awed tones. “And I have four more! And gloves and boots and stockings and fans and the most beautiful little headband with diamonds, Sophia! Diamonds!” She sighed euphorically. “I have had the most amazing time.”
“And so have I,” the countess said. “There is nothing more gratifying than having a lady to refurbish from top to toe, and at someone else’s expense, too. Simon has been very generous.”
Sophia giggled. “You must show us everything, Juliet. But first — my ball gown.”
And away she went, skipping into the house positively humming with excitement, Juliet in her wake, as the countess, bearing the precious burden, followed more sedately.
***
Simon watched her go, a smile on his face. She was so light on her feet, his Sophie. It was a joy to watch her make her way up the steps with a slight sway of the hips, her delicately lifted skirts revealing an inch or two of trim ankle.
“She will make a wonderful countess in the fullness of time,” Andrew murmured at his shoulder.
“To my mind, she is rather wonderful already.”
Andrew laughed. “So she is. Shall we go inside? You will want to check the licence.”
They entered the house and, stepping delicately past the ball preparations, made their way to the Chinese Room, which had become Simon’s domain while he worked on the plans for the orangery.
Simon immersed himself in the florid language of the special licence, while Andrew gazed around the room, which had every surface covered in drawings.
“This is the point of access, is that right?” he said.
“Mm? Yes. That window there will be a door leading to the gallery and thence to the orangery.”
“Which has progressed to the point of poles to mark the perimeter, I see,” Andrew said, amusement in his voice. “At this rate, it will be years before the thing is finished, and the bride it is meant to honour will be a fat matron looking forward to launching her daughter into society.”
“Then she will still have years to enjoy it. No, I estimate two years, at most, although the finishing touches to the interior might take a little longer.”
“What do you see as the finishing touches?”
“I should like to have the gallery ceiling painted, like some of the rooms in the main house. But it will depend upon finding the right artist.”
“And the duke agreeing, of course.”
“That too,” Simon said, with a rumble of laughter.
“What are these drawings here? This is not the orangery.”
“Those are for the book. Richard Merrington is the creator of a book of cottages of various designs, with full costings. We are collaborating on a similar volume featuring larger houses. I design the houses, and he does the costings. He is something of a genius in that way. Most architects never do more than guess at a final price, and naturally there are always unforeseen problems, but he counts bricks and lengths of wood and marble tiles, and then prices everything up. It is quite amazing.”
“That reminds me,” Andrew said, helping himself to a glass of wine, and pouring one for Simon, too.
“I called on your friend Thwaite and took him to the club — had him round for dinner, once, too. Introduced him to one or two people, so I think he will get his elevation in time. At least I hope I have reassured him that I am not like my father, and would not dream of standing in his way if it should happen.”
“I am glad of it,” Simon said. “I hope he gets what he wants.”
“As to that, what he wants just at the moment is for you to build him a house.”
Simon almost choked on his claret. “He plans to do it at last?”
“He does. He said to tell you that he wants the first one you designed, with the extra wings, and he has bought that land you recommended in Hertfordshire and how soon can you start? I had to tell him very gently that you are already fully engaged here for the foreseeable future. He said he will wait.”
“Oh, I can manage two projects at once,” Simon said airily.
“The builder will be here next month and once that is underway, Merrington will be able to supervise while I go to Hertfordshire. Well! The first design, eh? That was the good one, of course. I shall enjoy building that, and his purse can stand it. He is a very warm man.”
“A very honest one, too,” Andrew said. “He freely confessed to his own cowardice — his word, not mine — in allowing himself to be browbeaten by Father. He wishes he had had the courage to stand up to him. I can hardly blame him for that, since I never had any courage in that line myself. Unlike you.”
Simon shrugged. “In my case, it was more stupidity than courage. I wanted to be an architect, I had Juliet to fall back on for support, so I simply left. I had this curious idea that once I was gone, I would be beyond his reach, but I underestimated his vindictiveness against those who thwarted him. You were right not to defy him openly, I think. By doing that, you protected Lavinia and your children from his wrath, and possibly kept him from worse retaliation against all of us. Besides, your form of defiance was ingenious. You and Luke between you outwitted him comprehensively. Do not denigrate yourself, brother. It took the utmost courage to stay at Edlesborough year after year under his malevolent eye.”