The Cavendon Luck. Barbara Bradford Taylor
have a clue,’ Daphne answered and stood up, moved out of the gazebo, staring at the terrace. Instantly she knew who it was and her heart lifted with a flare of happiness. There was only one person in the world who had those gorgeous legs, now fully visible in very high heels.
‘Hey there! Don’t hide behind those silly men!’ she called out. ‘I know it’s you because of your legs and your shoes, Diedre.’
Hugo, who was well aware that very little ever surprised his darling wife, stepped to one side, and so did Miles, allowing Diedre to run down the path and into Daphne’s outstretched arms.
Cecily, who stood next to Miles, was wondering why Diedre was in Zurich? Was she here with news for her? Cecily dismissed that idea at once. It was far too soon for news. It was only last Friday, just a week ago today, that she had first spoken to Diedre about Greta’s problem. Maybe Diedre had just wanted a chance to relax for a few days away from Cavendon, needing new scenery, a little respite from the family.
Cecily knew how hard she worked, and how involved she was with her job at the War Office. Not that she ever said a word. She could not, presumably because she was bound by the secrecy laws of the country. If she was working in Intelligence. None of them knew a thing about her job; she had never been talkative about her life in London before her marriage to Paul. Nor after she returned to work in 1935.
The two sisters clung to each other for a moment or two. They had become closer than ever over the last nine years, working together through the family troubles and travails, and especially after Paul had died so suddenly. Diedre had been felled by the most terrible grief, had relied on her, Cecily and DeLacy. They had each helped as much as they could, been there for her when sorrow threatened to overcome her.
Finally stepping apart, they grinned at each other. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ Daphne said. ‘Welcome, Diedre darling. I’m so happy to see you.’
Before Diedre could respond, Hugo cut in, ‘I couldn’t believe it when we arrived back at the villa and Miles was shouting, “Look what the wind’s blown in”, and there was Diedre standing just in front of us, paying off a taxi.’
Diedre turned to her sister, and said, ‘The thing is this, Daphne. I had to go to Geneva on Wednesday night. I was surprised at how well it all went on Thursday, and it struck me how close I was to Zurich. And I suddenly wanted to be with all of you, spend a few days here. And I decided just to come and surprise you without even phoning.’
‘And we’re glad you did,’ Miles said. ‘You’re a wonderful surprise.’
‘It’s lovely to have you, Diedre,’ Cecily murmured warmly, and went to kiss her sister-in-law on the cheek.
Diedre gave Cecily a very direct look. Their eyes locked and the knowing glance they exchanged said everything. Say nothing.
Daphne slipped her arm through Hugo’s. ‘Let’s go to the terrace and have cold drinks before lunch. It’s getting quite hot out here.’ Glancing at him, she added, ‘Anna and Bruno know Diedre is here, don’t they?’
‘Oh, yes. Bruno took Diedre’s suitcase up to her room, and he said he would tell Anna to set another place at the table.’
Daphne nodded and started up along the path with her husband, the others following behind.
The long terrace at the back of the villa, facing the lake and the mountains, was actually a roofed gallery in the form of a loggia, the roof offering shade and protection, and the open ends allowing air to flow freely. It was usually cool even on the warmest of days, and the family always ate lunch here in the summer, and often dinner as well.
The seven of them sat down in white basket-weave armchairs, which surrounded a glass-and-iron table. As they were settling themselves, Bruno arrived with a tray of glasses and a large crystal jug of lemonade. After serving them, he turned to Daphne and murmured, ‘When would you like luncheon to be served, my lady?’
‘In about half an hour, Bruno, thank you.’
He nodded and took his leave.
Charlie said, ‘Do you often get to Geneva, Aunt Diedre?’
‘Only occasionally, Charlie. Why do you ask?’
‘I was just curious. Also, I thought you should consider dropping in more often, don’t you agree, Mama?’
‘I do indeed, but your aunt has Robin to think of, you know, and he spends the summers at Cavendon, which is where we’ll usually find Diedre. At his side, being a good mother.’
‘Maybe I’ll bring him over here again for a few days,’ Diedre interjected. ‘He’s always enjoyed himself when we stayed, and especially with you, Charlie. Thank you for spending time with him and making him feel special and, most importantly, grown up.’
‘He’s a fabulous boy. When I talk to him and listen to his answers to my questions, and look into his eyes, I can’t help thinking he’s been here before, that he’s an old soul.’
Diedre nodded. ‘I think he is.’ She paused for a moment. ‘He misses his father, and you’ve sort of filled the breach during the holidays. He adores you, Charlie, and you’ve given him the writing bug. He told me last weekend that he wants to be a journalist, like you’re going to be after Oxford.’
‘I did encourage him. I hope you’re not upset.’
‘No, not at all.’
Changing the subject and looking across at Miles, Charlie now said, ‘Talking of journalism, I’ve noticed the British newspapers have been full of stuff about Edward and his lady-love. Our former king seems to have really embraced Hitler and the Nazis. There was a quote in one of the papers the other day … apparently he told someone that he was entirely of German blood. I think he said it to Joachim von Ribbentrop when he was the German ambassador in London, but I’m—’
‘I read that too,’ Miles cut in. ‘And he actually said it to Diana Mosley, not Ribbentrop.’ Miles shook his head. ‘I’m sure she was thrilled to hear that, given Sir Oswald’s admiration of Hitler. She and Mosley are in Berlin constantly, and so is her sister Unity, who’s obsessed with Hitler.’
‘Those Mitford sisters take the cake!’ Hugo exclaimed. ‘Worshipping at the shrine of the Führer, and Unity fawning all over him. He’s very flattered by all the attention he gets from certain members of the British aristocracy. Fools, the lot of them. No wonder Churchill sits fuming, I would, too. In fact, I do fume, in sympathy with him.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Daphne interjected. ‘I’ve noticed the Establishment feels the same way, though: they think Hitler’s a great leader. They’re afraid of Communism, that’s why.’
Alicia gave Miles her attention when she said, ‘But our royal family is rather German, isn’t it, Uncle Miles?’
‘Indeed. Our ex-king spoke the truth about his German blood. Let’s not forget that his great-grandmother, Queen Victoria, was German through her forebears, the Hanoverian kings, and her mother was German. Victoria married a German, her cousin Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. That was the name of our royal family for years and years. King George V, Edward’s father, changed it in the Great War. That is when the family took the surname of Windsor.’
Miles cleared his throat and was about to speak when Daphne exclaimed, ‘I see Bruno hovering, so let us go and have lunch. And please, Miles, no history lessons. I grew up listening to them at every meal.’
Her brother had the good grace to laugh, and Cecily exclaimed, ‘I loved his history lessons, and still do. Miles has a fantastic memory for such marvellous historical details.’
As she rose, Daphne threw Cecily a warm look and teased, ‘Of course you love his history lessons. You love everything he does. You worship the ground he walks on.’
Grinning at Daphne, Cecily shot back, ‘That’s true, I do, and I don’t care who knows it.’
‘We’ve