The Cavendon Luck. Barbara Bradford Taylor
Cecily heard a little shriek of delight. Venetia had spotted her. A small bundle of joy composed of an angelic face, blonde curls and bright blue eyes hurtled towards her, her face wreathed in smiles.
Crouching down, Cecily caught her five-year-old daughter in her arms and hugged her. She whispered, ‘You see, I kept my promise. I’m not the last today.’
Venetia’s blue eyes sparkled with laughter and her face was filling with dimples. She whispered back, ‘Daddy will be last, Mummy. LAST!’
Suppressing her own laughter, Cecily looked at her and shook her head. ‘Maybe not, darling. Where’s Aunt DeLacy? Is she hiding somewhere in the room, do you think?’
Giggling, shaking her head, Venetia whispered, ‘She’ll be the last?’
‘I think so,’ Cecily answered. This was a little game between them. Cecily was generally always the last to arrive for tea, and Miles teased her about it. Her little daughter would protest about his teasing and now Venetia was obviously thrilled to bits that her mother had arrived before her father this afternoon.
Taking hold of Venetia’s hand, Cecily led her into the room, smiling at everyone and greeting them affectionately. Walking over to the children’s table, she kissed her sons, David and Walter, who were grinning at her and nodding their heads. They were also pleased she had made it before Miles; that was very obvious. Cecily was highly amused.
Robin stood up and went to kiss her, then hurried over to the children’s table, followed by Annabel. Cecily bent over and kissed Lady Gwendolyn, and said, ‘How beautiful you look in your purple frock, Great-Aunt. It still suits you.’
‘Thank you, Cecily; I must tell you, it’s several years old. But then you know that.’ Lady Gwendolyn chuckled, went on. ‘I’m very thrifty, and I keep all of the clothes you make for me. It’s a good thing your other clients don’t, or you’d be out of business in no time at all.’
Nodding her agreement, Cecily sat down between Lady Gwen and Diedre. She turned to Diedre, said sotto voce, ‘Can I speak to you later? It’s a work thing.’
Diedre merely nodded her agreement.
Looking across the room at her, the Earl said warmly, ‘Thank you, Ceci, for allowing Greta to do those few letters for me this morning. It was a great help.’
Greta often lent a hand and had a particular rapport with Diedre and Robin, whom she’d helped get through the terrible months after the death of Paul Drummond, Diedre’s husband and Robin’s father.
‘It wasn’t a problem: she was happy to help out.’
Charles Ingham gazed at his daughter-in-law, a loving expression in his eyes. He treated her like one of his own daughters these days, and he admired her tremendously. ‘I feel sorry for Greta. She worries so much about her family, and feels helpless to do anything. Has she heard from her father lately?’
‘As a matter of fact, she spoke to him today. Professor Steinbrenner believes they are stuck in Berlin for the moment.’
The Earl’s face was serious when he began, ‘Things are bad in Europe. And we—’
Charlotte interrupted him swiftly. In a low voice, she murmured, ‘Let’s not discuss Europe and what’s going on … in front of the children.’ She had just noticed that David and Robin were listening intently to their grandfather’s conversation. ‘Little pigs have big ears,’ she finished in a low tone.
Before Charles could make a response, the door flew open and DeLacy came into the room in a rush, looking flushed and out of breath.
‘Hello, everyone!’ she exclaimed, and went immediately to her father and Charlotte, kissing them both. Hurrying across the floor, she went over to Lady Gwendolyn and, sitting down next to her, squeezed her hand, leaned in and kissed her cheek. ‘You asked me for news of Dulcie and James when you phoned me at the gallery the other day. I’m happy to tell you I received a letter from Dulcie this morning—’
‘Sorry, Charlotte, sorry Papa for being late. Couldn’t avoid it. I had to take an important phone call,’ Miles announced, entering the room on the heels of DeLacy.
‘It’s not a problem, Miles,’ the Earl said.
‘You’re forgiven,’ Charlotte added, her voice warm and welcoming. He had always been a favourite of hers.
‘You’re late, you’re late, you’re late,’ sang a chorus of young voices, all sounding very gleeful indeed.
Venetia began to giggle, and so did Cecily, and just at that moment the door opened and Hanson strode in, looking purposeful.
Focusing on Lord Mowbray, he asked, ‘Shall we serve tea, my lord?’
‘Yes, please do so, Hanson. Now that everyone has arrived.’
Inclining his head, Hanson turned on his heel, beckoned Gordon Lane, the under butler, to come in with the largest tea trolley, filled with a silver tea service, cups, saucers and plates. Gordon was followed by two of the maids, also pushing trolleys laden with tea sandwiches, scones, strawberry jam and Cornish cream. There was a cream cake and a variety of delectable pastries.
Cups were filled, plates of sandwiches were passed around, and once again afternoon tea was served in the same way it had been for years. It was a ritual everyone enjoyed. Once the staff had moved the trolleys to the back of the yellow drawing room, and everyone had settled, Lady Gwendolyn spoke out. ‘Now come along, DeLacy, do give us the news from Hollywood USA.’
‘I will indeed,’ DeLacy answered, putting her cup in its saucer. ‘Dulcie and James are well, as are the twins, Rosalind and Juliet, and little Henry. In fact, the children are flourishing. James is halfway through his new movie and enjoying working at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. However, Dulcie and James want to come back to England.’ DeLacy paused and gave Great-Aunt Gwendolyn a pointed look. Her eyes went to her father, Charlotte and her sister Diedre.
Lady Gwendolyn said, ‘I believe we know the reason. A true-blue Englishman like James must feel it’s his duty to be on these shores at this particular and dangerous moment in history. And, knowing Dulcie, I’m quite certain she feels exactly the same way.’
‘Oh, no question about that,’ Charles said, then glancing at Charlotte he asked, ‘Don’t you agree?’
‘I do indeed. And you know that Dulcie’s an Englishwoman down to her toes.’
Miles, jumping into the conversation, exclaimed, ‘I suppose they’ll leave California when he finishes the picture.’
‘Hopefully, yes,’ DeLacy answered her brother. ‘However, according to Dulcie, there might be a problem. James has a big contract with MGM. Apparently Louis B. Mayer, who runs the company, is a great fan of his; signing James was a coup for him. Dulcie thinks he might not want to release James from the contract.’
‘Because he has other films to make, I suspect,’ Diedre asserted. ‘A signed contract is very binding, as you well know. Not only that, James is a big money-earner for MGM. Of course they won’t want to let him go.’
Cecily interjected, ‘But everything’s negotiable. I’m sure there is a way around the problem, should one develop.’ Glancing at DeLacy, she smiled at her dearest friend. ‘What about Felix and Constance? I thought they were in America at the moment, DeLacy.’
‘Yes, in New York. They’ll be going out to Los Angeles next week. Dulcie’s praying Felix will be able to handle Mr Louis B. Mayer.’
Staring at DeLacy curiously, Miles asked, ‘Why do you refer to him by his full name? It sounds so odd.’
DeLacy laughed. ‘It does, doesn’t it? But that’s how Dulcie refers to him in her letters, and I guess I just picked up on it, repeated her words.’
‘I am perfectly certain Felix Lambert is quite a crafty fox, and Constance as well,’ Diedre said. ‘That’s why James trusts them to represent him. Leave it to them. They’ll come