The Cavendon Luck Read online

  That was one of her main considerations these days. She had known for several years that telephones were monitored in Germany, and especially foreign phone calls. Undoubtedly the British embassy in Berlin was not immune; she believed the Gestapo listened in, but she and her man there had their own language, which would be Double Dutch to anyone else.

  Glancing at the clock she saw it was almost six. The household was still sleeping. Jumping out of bed, Diedre went into her bathroom, washed her hands and face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair. Back in her bedroom, she slipped on a silk dressing gown, stepped into her slippers, and went downstairs.

  Silence reigned. No one was moving about, nothing stirred. No sound except for the ticking of the hall clock. It was just a little too early for Hanson, the footmen, and the maids. But in half an hour, the housekeeper would be on duty, and they would all be bustling around preparing for breakfast, and Cook would be in the kitchen, getting an early start.

  It was cool and quiet in the library. Diedre sat down at her father’s desk, and leaned back in his big leather chair, thinking for a few minutes. His desk calendar was right in front of her. She stared at it. Oh God, it’s Saturday, she muttered under her breath. Saturday the thirtieth of July. Damn, she thought, then making a swift decision, she picked up the receiver and dialed the overseas operator and gave her the number in Berlin she wanted.

  “Hallo?” a man’s voice answered gruffly on the fourth ring.

  “Is Toby Jung still staying there?”

  “Is this his Daffy Dilly?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “What a pleasure to hear your voice, Daffy. What’s up?”

  “I left a suitcase with you the last time I visited, Toby. I wondered if you knew anyone who might be coming this way and would bring it for me. I’d pay them.”

  “I’ll ask around. What else is new?”

  “Not a lot. How is it in Berlin? I have a friend who might be visiting, she’s asked me about the weather.”

  “Hot as hell. Not a breath of fresh air. The city stinks. We’re all sweating. We need a good wind blowing through.”

  “Weather changes all the time, Toby.”

  “I know that, angel face. About the suitcase. Is it heavy?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Could one person carry it?”

  “I don’t think so. It needs another person, maybe two more. But they have porters at railway stations, you know, and I’ll provide the gratuities.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Where are you right now?”

  “Looking at the heather.”

  “For how long?”

  “Two days. Why?”

  “Just needed to know. I’ll get back to you. Next week. At the old place? Will you be there?”

  “I will. Thanks, Toby.”

  “Big kiss, angel face,” he said and hung up.

  Diedre put the receiver back in the cradle and leaned back in the chair. If someone had been listening in they wouldn’t have understood much. But Toby now knew she wanted to get people out. They always spoke in their own code. His message to her had been about conditions in Berlin, relayed through comments about the weather. All she had to do now was wait and see what he could do, if anything.

  * * *

  Hearing her name being called, Cecily turned her head to the left and saw her brother waving to her. He was walking down the stable block, wearing his riding clothes. He always did on Saturdays because he rode around the estate checking everything out on the Ingham land.

  She smiled when he came to a standstill next to her, kissed her on her cheek. “You look positively radiant this morning, Ceci,” he said.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere, as you well know, Harry,” she answered with a slight laugh, and added, “And you don’t look half bad yourself. Have you done your rounds yet?”

  “No. I wanted to see you first. Let’s go down to the gazebo where it’s cool, shall we?”

  “And also very private,” Cecily pointed out, falling in step with him.

  He glanced at her. “True. Point well taken. But my office was rather warm this morning … it’s all this July sun.”

  “I’m not going to chastise you or anything like that, you know. You’re a grown man and have every right to lead your life as you see fit. I just wanted to have a little chat, mostly because of Mam.”

  Harry exclaimed, “She’s not ill, is she?”

  “No, of course not, but she is concerned about you.”

  “I know” was all he said.

  They walked on in silence, lost in their own thoughts. After a while it was Cecily who spoke first. “I want to thank you for helping Walter with his riding, Harry. He’s always been a bit frightened of horses, as you well know, and you’ve managed to banish that fear, and he loves his riding lessons with you.”

  “And the horse I bought him. She’s a gentle little filly and he’s making wonderful progress. I’m rather proud of him.”

  “He told me yesterday that he’s catching up with David, and that soon he’ll ride better than his big brother.”

  Harry chuckled. “I think he’s on the right track. By the way, I had a weird experience last night, I knocked a girl off her bicycle.”

  Startled, Cecily stared up at him, frowning. “A bicycle? Where? Not here on the estate, surely?”

  “Yes, it was. She came hurtling down the main Cavendon Road leading into the village. I didn’t see her.” He told Cecily the story without any embellishment, and finished, “She turned out to be Phoebe Bellamy, the niece of Commander Jollion, and when she found out I was a Swann she wanted to know if I was related to Cecily Swann, the Fashion Queen of the World.”

  Cecily burst out laughing, then shook her head, highly amused. “I’ve never met Phoebe, but her mother is Commander Jollion’s sister, Adrianna. She has quite a big family. About seven children.”

  “My goodness, that’s quite a brood. But she only mentioned two brothers,” Harry said as they went into the gazebo. They sat down opposite each other, and Cecily explained, “Mam’s not angry with you, Harry, just concerned—”

  “About the possibility of gossip,” he cut in, his face gloomy.

  “I suppose that does worry her a bit, because of your position here. But she’s more concerned that you’re on a road to nowhere, as she put it. You told her you want children and very much so, and she thinks that’s not going to happen because Pauline Mallard is too old.”

  Harry nodded and now a reflective expression slid onto his face. “Mam’s right, Pauline is forty-eight, and she herself thinks the same thing. Her childbearing days are more than likely over. At least that’s what Pauline believes.”

  “She doesn’t look forty-eight, so much younger.”

  “That’s what I said when she told me her age. She’s been very honest and open with me, Ceci. Pauline’s a good woman.”

  “A married woman,” Cecily said very softly, reaching out, taking hold of Harry’s hand on the table. Holding it tightly, she said, “Listen to me, I’m your sister and I know you better than anybody. Therefore, I know you must be madly in love with her to keep this affair going.” Cecily paused, shook her head slowly, finished, “But it’s going nowhere.”

  When Harry remained silent, Cecily murmured, “I suppose she has an unhappy marriage, right?”

  “Yes, she does. Sheldon travels a lot, and, well, it’s not an intimate relationship, from what she’s told me.”

  Cecily couldn’t help sighing. “Oh Harry, Harry, that’s what they all say, be it a man or a woman who is committing adultery. It’s the same old story, and has been for centuries. Forever, I suppose.”

  “In Pauline’s case I think it’s true. He has other interests … in a different direction.”

  “What do you mean?” She lowered her voice when she asked in a cautious tone, “Do you mean he’s a homosexual?”

  “She never said that, just that it was not intimate,” Harry answered sotto voce. “And he had different tastes.�
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  “I’m not surprised she didn’t say anything else. He could be sent to jail.”

  He nodded. “I believe her, Ceci, and that’s that. I do know it would be hard for me to leave her.”

  “Has she ever mentioned getting a divorce?” Cecily asked, her eyes focused on Harry.

  “She says he’ll never agree to a divorce, and that we have to make the best of it.”

  “I don’t think you should make the best of it, as Pauline calls it! You’re stuck with a woman too old to have your children, and one who obviously won’t get a divorce for some reason.”

  Leaning forward Cecily said emphatically, “Harry, please be sensible, think of yourself. And your future. You’re forty years old. Get out now and go your own way. You will meet someone, I just know you will.”

  “That’s very funny talk coming from you. I can remember your litany … you always said you could never love anybody else but Miles. And that’s how I feel about Pauline.”

  “It’s hard, I do know that, I really do. Mam thought it might be a good idea if you could get away for a while, take a holiday. Actually, I wish you could come with us now … to Zurich.”

  Harry half smiled. “I run this estate with Miles, and when he’s away I have to be here. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy a holiday with you both in Zurich. I love being with you and Miles. The thing is, though, you take your problems with you, wherever you go. And before you naysay me, those are words you once said to me about your feelings for Miles.”

  Cecily nodded, filled with love for her brother, and also understanding his situation, his emotions. He was in love with a woman he couldn’t marry, one who most likely couldn’t bear his children. Cecily didn’t want to chastise him, or question him, only to comfort him. And encourage him to move on. She wished she could introduce him to someone special, but she did not have anyone in mind at the moment. Anyway, he would resent her interference.

  Rising, Cecily said, “I’m here for you whenever you need me, Harry, and so is Miles.”

  Harry also jumped to his feet, and he took hold of her arm affectionately. “I know that, and thank you for caring.”

  They went up the path together without speaking, holding hands. He broke away when they arrived at the stable block. After kissing her cheek, Harry murmured, “I’ll look after David and Walter while you’re gone, Ceci. I love them, you know.”

  She nodded. “You’re the perfect uncle,” she responded.

  He smiled at her and walked off.

  She watched him go, thinking what a good-looking man he was, and how kind and caring. And he did love her children. That was only too apparent in the way he spent time with the boys, and taught them so much. What a wonderful father he would make and certainly a good husband.

  Walking toward the terrace she could not help thinking what a sad life her brother had. He loved Cavendon and his job. He and Miles were the closest of friends and worked well together. He was popular with everyone, and much admired and surrounded by loved ones here.

  But he was alone, living in the house Great-Aunt Charlotte had given him. All alone. He must be filled with hollowness inside. He cooked his own meals. Or he went across the village street to their parents’ house, or ate at the village pub, Little Skell Arms. He was not a social animal and was mostly on his own.

  It’s not fair, Cecily suddenly thought, with a rush of anger. That woman is using him. I wish I could find a way to break them up. My brother deserves better. And I’m going to make sure he gets it.

  * * *

  Ten minutes later there was a knock on Cecily’s bedroom door, and Diedre was saying, “Can I come in?”

  “Yes, of course,” Cecily called out, and went over to the door as Diedre walked in, smiling, and holding a dress. It was one she had recently purchased from the Burlington Arcade shop.

  “Is there something wrong with it?” Cecily asked, eyeing the dress.

  Diedre glanced around. “Well, I’m not sure about the pleating on the side. I hope I’m not disturbing you and Miles? Is he in your sitting room?”

  Cecily shook her head. “No. He’s out in the garden with the boys, and Venetia is helping Nanny to cut some flowers for me. You want to speak to me alone, is that it?” she asked, her mouth puckering into a smile.

  “That’s right.” Diedre put the dress over a chair. “As usual it fits me perfectly. It was just a ploy, a reason to come and see you.”

  “Let’s sit here. If Miles comes back sooner than I expect, he’ll make for the sitting room. He always does.”

  Diedre sat on the sofa next to Cecily. “I don’t want to get your hopes up high, but I did speak to a contact of mine. This morning. In Berlin. He’s going to see if there’s any way he can help Greta’s family.”

  “Oh how wonderful!” Cecily exclaimed, her face lighting up.

  “Don’t get excited, Ceci. And don’t say a word to Greta. Or anyone else for that matter. Not even Miles. There is a huge problem for the Steinbrenners, and that is their passports. They need brand-new ones, as I told you yesterday. Too many to get at one time, in my opinion. The family may have to be extracted one at a time, over many months.”

  “Oh no, that would be so difficult for them,” Cecily protested. “Greta will be upset.”

  Diedre gave Cecily a hard stare, and her face was grave. She said, “You must understand that this is the hardest thing to do. Virtually impossible now. Greta won’t have a say in it. If I can get just one person out I’ll be lucky. And so will that person. Who would the family member be? What do you think?”

  “I have no idea. From what I know about the professor, I am sure he would want his children to leave first. If it’s only one then I think he would pick Elise, his daughter. But I can ask Greta and—”

  “You cannot speak of this to Greta!” Diedre cried sharply. “I just told you that, Cecily! No one can know. The choice will have to be made at the last moment. Please say you understand what a tough thing this is to do. And dangerous.”

  “Yes, I do, I’m sorry, Diedre, if I’m sounding stupid.”

  “You’re not, and I know you don’t realize what the situation is like in Berlin. The Gestapo are everywhere, and the SS, and everyone is under suspicion. I’m sorry I snapped at you but someone will have to do this for me, and it could cost them their lives if they are caught.”

  Cecily had turned pale. She nodded. “I wasn’t making light of it. I realize what a serious matter this is.”

  Diedre reached out and squeezed her arm. “Secrecy is imperative. Nothing can be said to Daphne or anyone else when you get to Zurich. You do know that?”

  “I do. It’s between the two of us. I will never betray you.” Cecily clenched her fist and stretched out her arm. “Loyalty binds me,” she said.

  Diedre did the same, and put her clenched hand on top of Cecily’s. “Loyalty binds me,” she answered, repeating the Ingham family motto.

  FOREIGN INTRIGUE

  Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,

  Jack jump over the candlestick.

  —an old English nursery rhyme

  Nine

  Daphne fell in love with the Villa Fleurir on Lake Zurich the first time she saw it just over twenty-four years ago. Hugo had taken her to Paris for their honeymoon and then they had traveled on to Switzerland where they had stayed for some time.

  The villa was spacious, with large rooms flowing into each other, and all of the colors used were soft, muted: cream and white, pale pink and peach, and the lightest of blues.

  It was an airy and welcoming place and there was a certain informality about the house and its furnishings which Daphne had never changed, loving its sense of ease and comfort.

  Mellow antiques were placed here and there in most of the rooms, intermingled with large, comfortable sofas and chairs covered in lovely fabrics, and there were beautiful paintings on the walls. All these furnishings enhanced the rooms, gave them a certain familiar look, but the villa was by no means decorated in a full-blown traditiona
l style, which frequently looked far too stiff to Daphne.

  Its informality had led her to create a more casual way of living over the years, especially after more of their children were born, and everyone loved staying at the villa, be it summer or winter, because of this. Cavendon was their home, but with a great house came responsibilities, expectations of certain standards. Over the years the villa had become the holiday home for Daphne and Hugo and their children, and other members of the family as well. Daphne’s father, the sixth earl, and Charlotte Swann had spent their honeymoon here and had been captivated by its beauty and tranquility.

  The main reception rooms opened onto a large garden which swept down to the lake, and the views were spectacular. Hugo, who had bought the villa long before his marriage to Daphne, had never wanted to sell it, and had hung on to it even when financial problems loomed. He had always understood that Villa Fleurir was a wonderful place to escape to and relax in, and also to enjoy the natural beauty surrounding the house and the ancient town of Zurich, which had great charm.

  The one room Daphne had changed was a small sitting room which opened off the library. She had eventually taken this for herself. By adding a desk she had instantly made it into an office. As long as she had a safe place for her papers and a spot in which to work she was happy.

  On this sunny morning in the first week of August, she sat at the desk, going over the household books. Having run Cavendon for years for her father, she had become accustomed to checking everything, including the money spent at the villa. Satisfied she was within her budget, she closed the last book, and sat back in her chair.

  When she had first married Hugo, Hans and Hilde Bauer had run the house with great efficiency, and kept everything shipshape and running well. Their son Bruno, his wife, Anna, and two maids who came in daily had taken over after Hans had retired. If anything, the son was better than the father, but Daphne always kept that thought to herself. And Anna was the best cook, but Hilde had equaled her. They were lucky to have the Bauers to take care of them.

  Getting up from the desk, she walked out into the foyer and hurried through the drawing room, making for the door leading to the garden. She stood on the threshold of the French doors, shading her eyes in the bright sunlight, spotted her daughter Alicia sitting in the gazebo at the end of the lawn. Glancing around she realized the house was still, very quiet for once. Everyone had disappeared except for Alicia.