A Steeplechase For Love Page 4

  Below one of the footmen was now running down the steps to open the door of the first carriage.

  A man stepped out first and then he turned to help a woman alight.

  As they walked towards the house and the carriage moved away, Helsa watched the two other carriages move forward.

  She had only a very quick glance and then she was mesmerised by watching the woman walking up the steps.

  She was being met at the front door by Robinson.

  He was bowing politely and Helsa heard him say,

  “Good afternoon, my Lady. May I welcome you to Irvin Hall.”

  “I presume you are the butler,” the woman said in a firm and well educated voice.

  Robinson bowed.

  “I am, my Lady.”

  Peeping down, Helsa could now see Lady Basset a little more clearly.

  At first all she was aware of was a large profusion of ostrich feathers and then as the wearer moved her head, she saw the glitter of diamond earrings.

  Then Robinson led the way across the hall towards the drawing room.

  Now Helsa could really see Lady Basset.

  She was, she thought, certainly good-looking if not alluring and there was no doubt that she was elaborately dressed in what must have been most expensive clothes.

  Then Helsa was aware of the man following her.

  He was tall, dark-haired and extremely handsome and she wondered if, in fact, Lady Basset had a husband and this was he.

  Then another couple appeared in the doorway.

  The woman was smartly dressed too, but she was much older than Lady Basset appeared to be and the man with her was at least in his fifties.

  His hair, when he next handed his hat to one of the footmen, was going grey.

  As the second couple walked towards the fireplace, Robinson reappeared after showing Lady Basset into the drawing room.

  Bowing politely to them, he showed the newcomers the way and they had hardly disappeared from view when four more visitors appeared at the front door.

  Helsa saw that they were all young men.

  Smartly dressed and obviously in their twenties or thirties, they were laughing and talking among themselves.

  One of them was pointing to the flags.

  “That is what you should have brought back from the Crimea, Harry,” one piped up.

  “I never had any chance of getting anything but a tummy ache from the filthy food we had and a streaming cold from the mud we slept on,” was the answer.

  Then before Helsa could hear the response to this, the four men disappeared from her sight.

  She reckoned that Robinson was showing them into the drawing room.

  Fortunately she had noticed that he had arranged a grog table for the drawing room, which had certainly never been there in her grandfather’s time.

  She had, however, made no mention of this grog table, as she thought Robinson very likely knew more than she did about the requirements of Socialites.

  She was certain now that the newcomers, especially the men, would expect to be offered a glass of champagne on their arrival.

  The whole idea seemed to her very dashing and not at all in keeping with the quiet life that had been lived at The Hall ever since she had been a child.

  She had often stayed at The Hall when her father and mother had gone away on holiday or there had been repairs at the Vicarage.

  Then the house had been very quiet and if the Earl entertained, it was usually his more elderly neighbours in the County who regarded him with awe and Helsa always thought they lowered their voices a little when they spoke to him.

  Now already she could hear loud laughter coming from the direction of the drawing room and she felt that Lady Basset’s visitors were going to be very different from those of earlier days.

  Of course when her father and his younger brother were young they had had their friends from Oxford to stay, and her father had related to her how much they enjoyed racing their horses across the fields.

  There had been a steeplechase once a year in which other riders in the neighbourhood could join in.

  But Helsa had not been born when that took place.

  When she had stayed at The Hall, sleeping in the night nursery even when she was too old to have a nanny, everything had been very quiet and sedate.

  Her grandparents always retired to bed at precisely ten o’clock and for the first time she now wondered at what hour she would be expected to be still on duty to help Lady Basset undress before she retired.

  When she went into the bedroom, she looked round and wondered if there was a comfortable chair where she would be able to doze and still hear Lady Basset coming upstairs before she actually entered the room.

  One of the housemaid’s called Betty had been told to be ready just in case her Ladyship required a bath before dinner.

  She told Helsa what was happening downstairs.

  “Two more gentlemen and yet another couple’s just arrived,” she muttered breathlessly, “and Mr. Robinson’s runnin’ backwards and forwards to open bottle after bottle of champagne for ’em!”

  “I wonder what time they are expecting to have dinner,” Helsa enquired of Betty.

  “I ’eard from Mr. Robinson, “that it be ordered for eight o’clock, but ’er Ladyship says that some of ’er guests might be a bit late.”

  “You mean there are more to come?” Helsa asked in astonishment.

  “Two more to come from London, I understands. One of ’em be a Lord someone or other, I didn’t get his name.” It was certainly a bigger party, Helsa thought, than she expected and she hoped Mrs. Cosnet would not panic.

  At least she had enough staff in the kitchen to help her – the only difficulty was if she had enough food.

  One thing, however, was really very consoling – there were plenty of bedrooms.

  Never in her lifetime had she had known The Hall have half its bedrooms occupied, even at Christmas with relatives to stay.

  When she thought it all over, her grandparents had lived quite simply without a great number of servants.

  She could not help wondering whether Mr. Martin would have to engage additional staff, unless of course the visitors had brought their own servants with them.

  She was told later that three of the gentlemen had brought valets with them and the older lady her own lady’s maid.

  There was one issue that Mr. Martin had been firm about and Robinson had fully agreed with him, and it was that Mary Emerson as lady’s maid to Lady Basset should take her meals in her own room – and one of the footmen would take them up to her.

  It would be a considerable mistake for her to be in the housekeeper’s room where visiting servants could think that she was different from them and gossip might reach the ears of Lady Basset.

  Helsa felt glad that she had agreed to Mr. Martin’s arrangements and she would not have to sit down with a plethora of strange servants who might easily be curious about her and then make Lady Basset feel curious too.

  ‘I suppose that I should really disguise myself with a pair of ugly spectacles,’ she reflected, ‘or make myself look older in some way!’

  Then she told herself that a servant was a servant, and it would be doubtful if Lady Basset or anyone else in her party would be interested in anything except their own friends.

  It was, however, rather strange to think that there were so many young gentlemen in the house.

  She was sure if her father was here, he would enjoy their company even though they were much younger than he was.

  *

  Helsa was waiting obediently in the bedroom when Lady Basset finally came upstairs.

  She was laughing and talking to the elderly couple who had followed her into the house.

  Robinson had led the way upstairs and then handed the guests over to Mrs. Walters and she was in the process of showing them to their rooms.

  Helsa thought she must have been surprised at the number of gentlemen there were compared to the number of ladies.
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  But she heard her intoning most respectfully,

  “And this one, my Lady, is your room where all the Countesses of Irvindale have always slept for generation after generation.”

  “I hope they won’t haunt me,” Lady Basset quipped as she walked into the bedroom.

  “This is Mary, my Lady, who’ll be looking after you,” added Mrs. Walters, indicating Helsa.

  Lady Basset nodded to Helsa and murmured,

  “I hope she does it well.”

  She did not shake hands with her as Helsa knew her mother and grandmother would have done.

  Instead she walked across to the dressing table and commented,

  “I wonder if there is enough light here for me to see myself clearly in this mirror. If there is one thing I really dislike, it is being economical where lights are concerned, especially in my bedroom.”

  There were three candles on each side of the mirror and two small candelabra by the bed. There was also a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling and as far as Helsa could remember it had never been lit during her grandmother’s lifetime. She gazed up at it anxiously wondering if the candles had been renewed or maybe they were just for decoration.

  As if she had asked the question aloud, Lady Basset rambled on, “I will manage alright for tonight, but tomorrow I want that chandelier lit when I come up to dress for dinner and blown out when I have finished dressing.”

  “Very good, my Lady,” replied Helsa, speaking for the first time. “Will your Ladyship be requiring a bath this evening?”

  “I had one this morning and there is really not time now, but I would like to wear one of my prettiest gowns, so I hope you have unpacked them.”

  The luggage had been carried upstairs soon after the guests had arrived and Mrs. Walters had instructed one of the housemaids to unpack Lady Basset’s trunks to save Helsa from doing so.

  She had, however, watched where each gown had been hung so that when she pulled open the wardrobe, she would know which one Lady Basset required. “The green one will suit and I will then wear my emerald jewellery with it,” she demanded imperiously.

  Lady Basset started to undress and Helsa was at once impressed with the silk underclothes she was wearing, all trimmed with the most expensive lace.

  Her gowns too had appeared magnificent when they were taken from the trunks and hung up in the wardrobe.

  When she helped Lady Basset into her green gown, she recognised that it must have cost a fortune and it had obviously been designed by a Master hand.

  She suspected, although she had no real knowledge of his work, that it had been designed by Frederick Worth, the top dress designer in France and his gowns were the joy of the Empress Eugenie herself.

  When Helsa looked closely again at Lady Basset, she realised that she was not as old as she had expected.

  In fact she doubted if she was more than thirty.

  She was not exactly beautiful, but had an attractive face and she made the very most of herself.

  Her hair had a touch of red and on her instructions Helsa fixed a bandeau of large emeralds on it.

  She mused that nothing could look smarter or more magnificent and there was a necklace of emeralds to match it together with earrings and a bracelet.

  Finally Lady Basset put a very large emerald on her ring finger.

  She did not speak while she was being dressed and then she expected Helsa to arrange her hair.

  Fortunately Helsa had often done her mother’s hair for her, especially when she was going to a smart party and she managed, she thought, to make Lady Basset’s hair look extremely pretty although she did not say so.

  In fact Lady Basset merely gave her orders rather sharply as if her appearance bored her, but at the same time she intended to have exactly what she wanted.

  Finally when she was dressed and Helsa had knelt down to put her shoes on her feet, she looked at herself in the long mirror on the door that led into the boudoir.

  “It is just impossible to see myself,” she muttered crossly, “with so little light. Make sure the chandelier is always lit in future, Mary, together with the smaller lights which are to remain alight until I come to bed.”

  “I will see to it, my Lady,” replied Helsa.

  Lady Basset looked at her as if for the first time.

  “Who did you work for before you were engaged for me?” she enquired.

  Helsa was ready for this question and, as she hated lying, she responded,

  “I have been at home, my Lady, because my mother died and my father had no one to look after him.”

  “Oh! I suppose you are glad to have this position to bring you in a little money.” “Yes, of course, my Lady, I am very grateful.”

  “I understand that the Earl and Countess who lived in this house are dead and that the new Earl cannot afford to live in it.”

  “That is so, my Lady.” “It is certainly a very large house and on the whole well-furnished. In fact anyone coming here would, I think, be somewhat impressed by the house itself and no doubt the grounds.”

  Helsa did not know how to answer her, so therefore she did not speak.

  “I only hope,” Lady Basset went on, “the food is as good as I was promised it would be and the dining room has the right amount of silver.”

  “The silver is very fine, my Lady, and it has been in the Irvin family for generations and is reputed as being one of the foremost collections in England, just as the picture gallery contains some superb masterpieces.”

  “That is what I want to hear,” replied Lady Basset. “Therefore anyone coming to this house for the first time would be impressed by what they see?”

  “I am sure that they would,” Helsa agreed. “It is just unfortunate that the present Earl cannot afford to live here.”

  “He is the Head, I am told, of a very ancient family, but I understand that there is no chance of my meeting him while I am staying here.”

  “I don’t think so, my Lady.” Helsa was wondering where this conversation was leading and why Lady Basset appeared so inquisitive.

  “Now please tell me, Mary,” she continued, “what was the previous Earl like and is there a portrait of him anywhere in the house?”

  “Yes, my Lady, there are portraits of the previous Earl and Countess in the dining room. You will see them when you go in to dinner. They are on either side of the marble fireplace and the other pictures are of the previous Earls of Irvindale down the centuries.”

  “That is just what I want to know, Mary. You must tell me more about the Irvin family while you are dressing me tomorrow morning.”

  She was walking towards the door when Helsa said,

  “I expect you would like me to stay up to help your Ladyship undress.”

  “No, no! I much prefer to manage myself. But leave everything ready for me and then wake me tomorrow morning at half-past eight.”

  “I will do so, my Lady.” Lady Basset took one further look at herself in the long mirror and, as Helsa held open the door for her, she swept out onto the landing.

  As she did so, a gentleman came out of the master bedroom along the corridor – he was the tall good-looking one with whom she had arrived.

  Lady Basset stood waiting until he joined her.

  “I hope, my dear Duke, you found everything to your satisfaction,” she asked him.

  “Everything – and I have been most impressed with what I have seen so far of this delightful house.”

  “Unfortunately we have not been able to use it for some considerable time,” Lady Basset added. “Therefore you must forgive me if things here are not yet as perfect as I should like.”

  “I am sure your magic fingers make everything you touch turn into gold,” declared the Duke. “Only you could have a dream house like this waiting for us unexpectedly.”

  “That is exactly what I wanted you to say,” Lady Basset smirked.

  She slipped her arm through his and they walked down the stairs together.

  Helsa watched them, feeli
ng that the conversation she had just overheard could not be true.

  How was it in any way possible that Lady Basset was pretending that The Hall was her own house?

  She had never seen it until she arrived an hour ago.

  What was the reason for such deception?

  Helsa felt that she knew the answer.

  It was the Duke she wished to impress.

  It was the Duke who had been placed in the master bedroom.

  The same Duke she was now walking downstairs with and telling him that the house belonged to her.

  Undoubtedly she would make herself related to the portraits she had just been told were on either side of the marble fireplace.

  Helsa drew in her breath.

  This was a development she had not anticipated and it was certainly very perplexing.

  Equally she could not understand how Lady Basset really thought she could get away with such an obvious pretence.

  First she tidied away Lady Basset’s clothes she had worn on her arrival and then she turned down the bed and left everything ready for her. She laid one of her pretty diaphanous nightgowns trimmed with real lace on one of the chairs.

  It was then she remembered there was a connecting door between this room and the master bedroom where the Duke was sleeping.

  It must have been made clear to Mr. Martin that although Lady Basset, being unmarried and the hostess of the house party could have been in the master bedroom, the Duke was to occupy the best room available.

  She obviously did not know the Duke that well as she was addressing him as ‘my dear Duke’.

  Yet the way she had taken his arm and the note in her voice when she spoke to him told Helsa that the Duke meant something special to her.

  Then she thought that Mr. Martin must know more about all this than he had told her, so having finished in the bedroom, she went down the backstairs that were not far from the dining room.

  She could tell from the noise that they had already gone in to dinner.

  She had been right in thinking Mr. Martin would be in his Office and she had already learnt that because he was nervous in case things might not go right, he himself was staying in the house, while his wife remained in their house in the village.

  Helsa opened the door of the Office and Mr. Martin looked up from his desk.