The Wonderful Dream Read online

  Later that afternoon Claudia heard a knock on the front door.

  Kitty had gone home before luncheon and Claudia was still searching through her father’s desk.

  She had run to the front door wondering who it could be.

  When she opened it, she was astonished to find a very smart manservant outside.

  Beyond him was a carriage drawn by two horses with a coachman wearing a cocked top hat holding the reins.

  When she appeared, the footman, without saying anything went down the steps to open the door of the carriage.

  A very elegant elderly lady, wearing a hat festooned with feathers, stepped out.

  She walked slowly to where Claudia was standing.

  Then she asked,

  “Are you Claudia?”

  A little belatedly, because she was so surprised, Claudia dropped a small curtsey.

  “Yes, ma’am,” she replied as her mother had taught her to do, “that is my name.”

  “I am your Godmother,” the lady said and walked past her into the house.

  It was a second or two before Claudia could collect her wits.

  Then she showed her into the small sitting room that opened out of the narrow hall.

  She thought afterwards that it would have been better to have taken her upstairs to the drawing room, which was on the first floor.

  But for the moment it was difficult to think of anything but how smart the lady looked.

  It seemed impossible that she had a Godmother of whom she had never heard.

  The small room was very comfortably furnished, but Claudia thought that her visitor was inspecting it critically.

  Then she said,

  “Let me look at you, child.”

  Claudia stood in front of her and asked as she did so,

  “Are you – really my Godmother? I-I never knew – I had one.”

  The lady laughed.

  “I suppose I should not be surprised that you have not been told. In fact I am Lady Bressley and I held you in my arms when you were baptised.”

  As she finished speaking, Lady Bressley sat down in an armchair.

  “You are very like your mother,” she said. “She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever known!”

  “You have – heard what – happened to her?” Claudia asked hesitatingly.

  “I read the newspapers,” Lady Bressley replied, “and that is how I found you. One of them actually gave the address of this house.”

  That must have been a newspaper she had not read herself, Claudia thought.

  She then wondered if other people would come and call on her.

  Then Lady Bressley asked,

  “What are you going to do now that your mother is dead?”

  “I-I don’t – know,” Claudia replied. “I have been going through my father’s papers, trying to find out if there is any money. But, although I have found his cheque book – there does not seem to be any statement from the Bank.”

  “That does not surprise me,” Lady Bressley said. “Although Walter Wilton must have earned a great deal, I doubt whether, like all his kind, he ever saved a penny.”

  There was a scathing note in Lady Bressley’s voice that Claudia resented.

  She thought, however, that it would be a mistake to say anything in her father’s defence.

  “Are you alone here?” Lady Bressley asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Claudia answered, “and it’s very frightening being here without Mama and Papa.”

  “I can understand that,” Lady Bressley said, “and I suppose, as I am your Godmother, that you are now my responsibility!”

  Claudia looked at her wide-eyed as she went on,

  “We have a great deal to decide, but the first thing is whether or not you should approach your father.”

  “B-but – I thought you knew – Papa is – dead too! He was – killed at the theatre.”

  “I am talking about your real father,” Lady Bressley said, “not Walter Wilton!”

  “I-I don’t – know what you are – saying!” Claudia protested. “He was my – father!”

  Lady Bressley shook her head.

  “No, my dear, and now you are eighteen, it is time you learned the truth.”

  “The – truth?” Claudia murmured.

  “It seems incredible that your mother has never told you, but I suppose I can understand that she did not want you to feel embarrassed, as you would have been.”

  “About – what?” Claudia questioned. “I really – don’t – know what you are – talking about.”

  “Then let me explain. Your mother was the daughter of the Earl of Porthcarian. She was married when she was the same age as you to Viscount Niven, who has now come into the title and is the Earl of Strathniven.”

  Claudia gasped.

  She did not speak and Lady Bressley went on,

  “Your mother behaved very badly by running away with Walter Wilton after they had met in Edinburgh when he was giving a performance there at the theatre. So I think it unlikely that your father would be in a hurry to welcome you to his Castle.”

  “I – cannot believe – what you are – s-saying!” Claudia stammered piteously. “H-how is it possible that – P-Papa is not – my father? I-I loved him!”

  “I am sure you did,” Lady Bressley said in a kindly tone. “He was a very handsome man and, as I have always heard, more or less a gentleman. But he could not marry your mother because she was already married!”

  “And – she actually – ran away with him?” Claudia asked, her voice sounding strange even to herself.

  “You were one year old at the time,” Lady Bressley said. “When your real father was away from home on a shooting party, she packed her bags and, taking you with her, left Scotland for England with an actor, who was not so well known in those days, called Walter Wilton.”

  Claudia gave a little gasp.

  “This is – extraordinary!”

  “I can understand your feeling like that,” Lady Bressley went on gently, “but, as I have said, child, it is time you learnt the truth and started to think about the future.”

  “B-but – why did you – never come to – see Mama?” Claudia asked.

  “I tried to find out her address,” Lady Bressley explained, “but she had cut herself off from her family and everyone she knew. I thought then that perhaps I would not be welcomed, but merely looked upon as if I was interfering. Was she happy, really happy, with the man she ran away with?”

  “I cannot imagine that any two people could have been happier!” Claudia said. “They loved each other – and also – they loved me.”

  She thought as she spoke that she had never imagined for a moment that Walter Wilton was not her real father.

  She was very certain that he had loved her.

  No man, she thought, however well he acted, could have pretended the kindness, the understanding and the affection he showed her.

  “Well, I am glad of that!” Lady Bressley was saying. “Janet was always my favourite ever since she was a tiny child and in a way I can understand why she fell in love with someone as handsome as Walter Wilton.”

  “Wh-what is the – man you say is my – f-father – like?” Claudia asked falteringly.

  “He is a rather strange man and was twenty years older than your mother. I think he loved her in his own way,” Lady Bressley said, “but he is very reserved and your mother must have felt trapped in his large dark Castle.”

  “It was – very brave of – her to have run away,” Claudia remarked.

  “Very brave indeed!” Lady Bressley agreed. “And not only was her husband furious but so was your mother’s father. He raged, he talked of shooting the actor who had stolen his daughter! But in the end he did nothing except, of course, to cut your mother out of his will and say that never again was her name to be mentioned in his presence.”

  “I wish Mama had – told me all this,” Claudia whispered.

  “I think that might have been insulting to the m
an she loved,” Lady Bressley said slowly.

  Claudia knew at once that she was right.

  It was far happier for all of them for her to believe that Walter Wilton was her real father.

  He had in fact accepted her as if she had been his own child.

  “Now that you have learnt the truth,” Lady Bressley said, “we have to decide what you shall do.”

  Claudia said nothing and after a moment she went on,

  “There is no hurry. It would be best to give your father time to learn that your mother is dead and perhaps make enquiries as to what has happened to you.”

  “Perhaps, after all these years, he will not be interested,” Claudia suggested.

  “That is a distinct possibility,” Lady Bressley agreed. “So while we are giving him time to think, I suggest that you come with me.”

  Claudia’s eyes lit up.

  “Do you – mean that? – Do you really – mean it?”

  “Of course I mean it,” Lady Bressley said sharply. “You can hardly stay alone here in this empty house with no one to chaperone you and with, I imagine, very little money.”

  “I am sure that there must be some,” Claudia said apologetically, “and I was intending to call at Coutts Bank and – ask them to tell me what is in my fa – Walter Wilton’s account.”

  She struggled over the name as she was just about to say ‘my father’s’.

  “My secretary can see to that for you,” Lady Bressley said. “What you have to do now is to pack your clothes and I will provide you with some more because we are going abroad.”

  “Abroad?” Claudia exclaimed.

  “I have already arranged to visit Spain where I have friends,” Lady Bressley explained, “and I will take you with me.”

  Claudia clasped her hands together.

  “To Spain? I would love to go to Spain! Mama and I read some books about it and I learnt a little, a very little, Spanish at school.”

  “Well that, at any rate, will be helpful,” Lady Bressley said. “But we will have a Courier with us, so all we have to do is to leave it in his capable hands and enjoy the journey.”

  “I cannot – believe – it!” Claudia exclaimed.

  Suddenly she was very near to tears.

  Impulsively she moved forward to kneel at Lady Bressley’s feet.

  “It has been – very frightening – wondering what I should do – and where I should go – and now you have come magically – as if out of the sky and everything has changed.”

  Lady Bressley put out her hand to touch Claudia’s cheek.

  “You don’t have to worry any more, dear child,” she said. “I have been a lonely old woman since my husband died seven years ago. I have had companion after companion who always bored me and I got rid of them. It will be delightful for me to have you with me.”

  “Oh, thank you, thank you!” Claudia cried. “I only hope that I can be of use and do things for you, so that you will never regret asking me.”

  “I loved your mother,” Lady Bressley said, “and you were a very pretty baby. I feel sure that we have a great deal in common.”

  “I hope so,” Claudia said.

  “You are a very sweet girl,” Lady Bressley said and kissed her.

  Looking back, Claudia thought at that moment, when she least expected it, that the sun had broken through the darkness.

  She was no longer alone.

  Instead she was being transported to a magical new world.

  How could she have known, how could she have guessed, that there was another shock to come, just as disastrous and almost as terrible as the first one had been?

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Run upstairs, my dear,” Lady Bressley said, “and get ready to come back with me to my house. I will send servants to pack your clothes so that you need not trouble to do anything yourself.”

  Claudia had done as she was told.

  She changed from the simple dress she was wearing into her best gown, which her mother had bought for her a few months ago.

  Only then did she wonder what would happen to the house.

  She went into her mother’s bedroom and was instantly aware of the fragrance that she had made essentially her own.

  It was the scent of white violets and Claudia thought that it would always haunt her.

  Her mother’s clothes were all hanging tidily in the wardrobe and she went to the dressing table and took out the velvet box where her mother had kept her jewellery.

  There were not many jewels.

  But whenever Walter Wilton had any money to spare, he spent it on something that he knew would delight his wife.

  Something that would, as he had said, reflect the stars in her eyes.

  ‘I must not leave the box behind,’ Claudia told herself.

  She did not search for money, knowing full well that there was none.

  All that she had been able to find had already been spent on the funeral.

  Claudia had given the undertakers Walter Wilton’s gold watch to compensate for the lack of gold sovereigns. And they had accepted it reluctantly.

  When she went downstairs, her Godmother was sitting where she had left her.

  She looked up as Claudia came into the room.

  “You look very smart, my dear,” she said, “but then your mother always had good taste.”

  “I am afraid,” Claudia said, “I have – not many clothes at – the moment. Mama was waiting for the benefit from Macbeth to buy me two new gowns.”

  “I will buy you anything you need,” Lady Bressley answered, “but we will have to do so in a hurry because you must do me credit in Spain, especially as my taking you with me will be a surprise.”

  “It is so – very kind of – you,” Claudia said, “but I am just – wondering what I should do – about the house.”

  “My secretary, Mr. Prior, will see to that,” Lady Bressley answered, “and we will make a decision when you return as to whether you wish to sell it or keep it. It is always a mistake to do things in a hurry.”

  They drove off in the carriage with its fine horses.

  Claudia felt as if she was living in a dream. She only hoped that she would not awaken too soon.

  Lady Bressley’s house in Grosvenor Square was very impressive.

  There seemed to Claudia to be a veritable army of servants to look after them.

  *

  During the next few days dressmakers seemed to come to the house every hour.

  Claudia had expected to have to go to the shops to buy her clothes.

  But Lady Bressley was so prestigious that they were only too willing to come to her.

  Evening gowns, day gowns, coats, jackets, hats, all were brought for her approval.

  For the first time in her life, Claudia found how tiring it was to be always trying on clothes.

  They left for Spain, travelling by carriage to Tilbury from where they were to board an Ocean Liner.

  Claudia was astonished at the number of people who went ahead of them.

  There was a Courier to see to the luggage, and two footmen to carry it.

  Then there was Lady Bressley’s lady’s maid and a secretary, who was to see that their accommodation on board ship was exactly to his employer’s requirements.

  In addition there was, to her surprise, a coachman.

  “I intend to hire a carriage and good horses when we reach Spain,” Lady Bressley explained, “and I have no intention of being driven by someone I don’t trust. Hopkins has only been with me a year, but he is an excellent driver.”

  It all seemed very luxurious to Claudia.

  She realised when they stepped aboard the Ocean Liner that Lady Bressley was treated as if she was Royalty.

  “I have travelled a great deal since I have been a widow,” she told Claudia, “and the Chairman of this Line is a personal friend of mine. He always gives orders that I am to be looked after properly.”

  Their accommodation was certainly the best on board.

  An adjoining
cabin had been converted into a sitting room, because the liner did not have suites and there were two Stewards constantly in attendance.

  The food, Claudia learned, was specially prepared for them by the chefs.

  As she lay in her extremely comfortable cabin, she said a prayer of thankfulness every night that she had been so fortunate.

  It was during the days when they were choosing her clothes that Lady Bressley talked to her about her future.

  “Perhaps, dear child,” she said, “when we return, you will want to meet your father. But for the moment I think it would be a mistake to write to him.”

  “Why?” Claudia enquired.

  “Because he will have seen in the newspapers that Walter Wilton is dead and that your mother died with him. We must give him time to consider whether he should get in touch with you before you approach him.”

  “I-I understand,” Claudia said, “and I think – that is sensible.”

  “You will therefore,” Lady Bressley went on, “call yourself Claudia ‘Coventry’, which was my surname before I married, and only when we come back to England will you use your title.”

  Claudia looked startled and her Godmother said with a smile,

  “You must realise that, since your father is now the Earl of Strathniven, you are Lady Claudia Niven.”

  Claudia gave a little gasp.

  “But of course,” Lady Bressley went on, “we have to remember that from a social point of view your mother burnt her boats and the scandal in Scotland when she ran away with an actor still remains in the minds of some of the older people.”

  “I suppose – they were – all very shocked,” Claudia said in a low voice.

  “Horrified would be a better word!” Lady Bressley answered. “But, as I have already said, my dear, I do understand because your mother’s marriage was arranged by her father in collusion with the then Earl of Strathniven.”

  She paused for a moment before she added,

  “The two old gentlemen put their heads together and thought of what was good for their Clans. The feelings of their respective children hardly came into it.”

  “And my father – my real father – was very much older – than my mother?”

  “He was nearly forty,” Lady Bressley said, “and is now, of course, approaching his sixtieth year.”

  Claudia thought of how handsome Walter Wilton had been and he had also been young enough to laugh with her mother.