The Crimson Bed (22 page)

    Both Fred and Lord Dillinger had returned to London on business after the long weekend at Oreton Hall. Dillinger was particularly troubled by the situation in the Crimea and was to search out his colleagues so that a concerted protest might be made in the House. Ellie had asked Fred if she might stay on at the Hall for a little while longer to which he had reluctantly agreed. A few days later when she was seated at breakfast with the family, the news arrived.

    The butler brought in the telegraph and Lady Mary took it, her hand trembling.

    Ellie and Charlotte looked at one another. Charlotte dropped her napkin and laid a hand on her heart as if to calm its sudden hurried beat. Even the butler, old John Adams, stayed where he was, looking concerned as Lady Mary opened the envelope. Everything seemed to freeze and go into slow motion. They all knew what the telegraph would say. Everyone held their breath and waited as Lady Mary unfolded the slip of yellow paper and read the news. She let it fall on the table as she covered her face with her hands and shook her head slowly in denial, in disbelief.

    Charlotte ran to her mother's side and helped her up as Lady Mary rose unsteadily and left the table. Adams, unable to tear himself away, turned with stricken face to Ellie who picked up the telegram and read for herself the terrible news of Alfie's death.

    'Oh, Adams!' she whispered, 'He is dead. Captain Alfred Dillinger is dead.'

    The paper fell from her fingers and fluttered to the floor.

    Why had she always felt that he might never return? His last words had implied that he might not, as if Alfie knew in his soul that his days were numbered. The pain in her heart was too deep for words. No one was meant to know how much she had loved him and she could not speak of it. This made it all the worse, like a lump in her throat and chest that could not be swallowed down into her system or spewed forth in angry tears.

    No one could bear to eat now and left the table to gather in the drawing room. Charlotte came down from her mother's room and found her brothers and Ellie sitting in subdued silence, deep in their own thoughts.

    'How is Mama bearing up, Lottie?' asked Ben, the youngest boy.

    'She is stunned and can't speak or even cry. It will come later. No, don't go up to her, Benjy darling. Let her be. She wants to be left alone.'

    Young Charlotte, usually so silly, girlish and light-hearted, had suddenly assumed a certain responsibility and maturity. The two older brothers looked at her with a new sense of respect.

    'George, you must telegraph Papa and tell him. He must come back now and comfort Mama. She needs him very much.'

    'You're right. I'll do that now, Lottie,' said George, relieved to have something useful to do.

    'I'll come with you,' said Ben, 'or if you like, I'll ride down to the Post Office and make sure it goes at once.' He was already weeping but George remained dry-eyed. In his mind was the thought,
I am eldest now and the heir to the estate and title. I must
keep up appearances. I can't let the side down.

    'We'll go together, Ben – there, there lad, be strong for Mother's sake,' he said quietly and the two young men went off to fulfil their errand.

    'Poor darlings!' said Ellie, watching them as they departed, George with his arm about the younger boy whose shoulders shook with grief. 'They're trying so hard to be brave.'

    'I can't bear to think Alfie's gone, Ellie!' said Charlotte, her own eyes brimming with tears now that they were alone and she could allow her defences to slip. 'Our darling Alfie! He was so full of life. I admired him so much. You and he were such playmates when you were little. How can you bear it? It's losing a beloved friend for you too.'

    Ellie remained silent for a while, unable to speak. She said at last, her voice trembling with feeling, 'We
were
good friends. If only we hadn't had to grow up, Charlotte. Why did he go away and leave us?'

    'It's Father's fault,' the young girl murmured as if fearful she might be heard. Charlotte was afraid of her father even in his absence. 'I'll never forgive him for sending Alfie away to war. Never!'

    'Oh, Charlotte. We can't say things like that. You know as well as I do that Alfie w
anted
to be a soldier. Nobody forced him to go. You know how he used to play at... at soldiers... '

No longer play, alas. How foolish men were!

    When Lord Dillinger arrived back at Oreton Hall that afternoon, he said little, his face grave and drawn. He spent some time with his wife but she was not to be consoled. Lady Mary took herself to her room and from then on refused to eat or be cajoled forth, or do anything but kneel in prayer all day long.

    'She won't take anything, not even a little broth,' Charlotte said to Ellie. 'I can't do anything for her; she's so shocked and grieved. Alfie was always her favourite son. His loss is more than she can bear. But Mama is a brave woman and we feel that she'll rally round. She needs to be left to herself a little.'

    'Ellie, you will stay, help her Ladyship, won't you?' Dillinger asked. 'You're the only person who can cheer her. You will stay, Ellie?'

    'I will stay if Fred is agreeable. I'm sure he will be.'

    She wanted to scream at her godfather, demand to know why he had sent Alfie away and then live to regret it but knew she couldn't let herself lose control like that. Ellie looked at him as he sat staring speechlessly into the fire in the drawing room, unable to eat any better than his wife, haggard and unhappy. In her heart she agreed with Charlotte that it was Dillinger's fault. She remembered how guilty and troubled he had felt when Alfie was in the Crimea. He could have refused to indulge Alfie's whims, demanded that he stayed at home and did his duty by the family and the estate. But would Alfie have taken any notice? He had always been a rebel, always broken the rules. No, nobody was to blame. It was Fate, cruel Fate.

    Fred sent back his condolences and agreed that Ellie should remain as long as she could with the family, trying like everyone to break through the impasse of Lady Mary's grief. Sadly, Lady Mary did not rally round and by the time Ellie's baby son was born in the following February, her ladyship had joined the Dillinger ancestors in the family vault. Her son's bones would never be buried there, for they lay in Scutari, where he had died of his wounds.

In March they held the christening of Charles James Ashton Thorpe. He was a bonny little fellow and his presence, his demands and clamorous needs helped Ellie to put aside her sadness and grief at the loss of her old sweetheart and concentrate on the present.

    'Isn't it strange how one person dies and another takes the place?' said Charlotte as she held her godchild in her arms. The young girl still looked so sad and Ellie's heart went out to her. She understood perfectly what the girl felt for she too had lost both a mother and Alfie.

    'It is indeed, Charlotte, my dear. But Alfie died a brave hero and, as your Papa wisely remarked, the greatest honour for a cavalry officer is to die with his sword in hand. He chose this path and followed it to the bitter end.'

    
And
, thought Ellie,
I too chose mine and will follow it in the
same way. I refuse to have any regrets.

    Charlotte handed back her young godson to his mother. Ellie smiled down at her boy. Charles with his round blue eyes looked up at his mother as if already knowing her. All the love she once had for Alfie transferred itself now to this bundle of miniature masculinity and waving arms and legs.

    In December of the next year, Ellie bore Fred another child. To their joy it was a daughter and they named her Mary Beatrice Eleanor. Fred was delighted with his little girl and Charlie, now nearly two years old, considered himself his little sister's keeper and remained glued to her cradle, staring at the little morsel of humanity with fascination. There was someone smaller than himself in this world of giant beings!

    Mary was indeed small and not a very strong child. For a long time there was fear that she might not live and Ellie and Fred were in a perpetual state of worry and fear. The least cough was a source of anxiety.

    Many things changed that year. Joshua Farnham had recently retired from the Bar and taken himself off to Oxford to be near his last remaining sister, Eliza Mary, who now lived alone with her servants in a rambling old house near the village of Woodstock. It made sense, he said, for the two old ones to be together in one house rather than maintaining separate and expensive establishments.

    'I do miss Papa,' lamented Ellie, 'I'm not very fond of Aunt Eliza. I hope he will be happy with her. She can be so cross and complaining. But Papa is very good-tempered. I think he will simply put up with it.'

    'I put up with you being cross and complaining,' joked Fred and had his ear tweaked for it.

Chapter 19

Oreton Hall: April 1857

It was now a fine and sunny spring and Ellie invited to Oreton Hall to keep Lord Dillinger's young daughter Charlotte company while he was abroad on government business.

    'Come along to join us when you return from Liverpool, Fred.' said Ellie. Papa is also coming to stay in a week or two's time for a little change of air and scenery. I think that Aunt Eliza is proving a little too much after all! I will be so happy to see dear Papa and he can play with Charlie. It will be lovely for Charlie to be in the country and he will so enjoy seeing all the animals on the estate. He has a fascination with dogs and sheep – well, anything on four legs.'

    'I agree, the country air would be good for the children. I understand Lord Dillinger is abroad this summer?'

    'Yes, Fred, he is,' Ellie replied casting her eyes upwards at the obvious look of relief on her husband's face.

    'Well, Charlotte is a most pleasant girl and very musical. I know you will enjoy her company. I still feel a sadness that the kind Lady Mary is no more. How terrible that she should have lost her dear son in that manner. I am determined that our beloved boy Charlie will never go into the Army.'

    'I couldn't agree more.'

Charlotte Dillinger welcomed Ellie with great affection, delighted with the two children and grateful for the company. She was now almost eighteen years old and had been flung into the role of mistress of this great house now her mother was dead. Thankfully, Mrs Tyson, the housekeeper, was a most efficient woman and took all the work of running the place upon her capable shoulders aided by Adams, the butler, who had served the family for over thirty years.

    'All the same, I get nervous on my own here,' Charlotte said, 'I still have my governess but really, it is too tiresome to learn lessons nowadays when there are so many practical matters to attend to. I have asked Papa if she may go but he insists I must continue with my education a little longer. Why would I need such an education? Will I not marry and run a house like this? That's all I need to know and I mean to put my mind to learning all there
is
to know about running an estate like this. Mrs Tyson teaches me a hundred more valuable things than ever Miss Fancourt could do. No amount of Greek history can tell me how a table should be laid out or what food to serve up to my guests in each season. It is all so complicated, Ellie, you have no idea! However, I must master it all. You know I'm engaged, don't you?'

    'Of course, you wrote to me about it. To Jack Pendelton?'

    'Yes, and so you see I have to prepare myself, Ellie. As an eldest son, Jack will inherit a huge estate from his father, Sir Digby Pendelton.'

    As she mentioned the name of her suitor, a little blush came to her face and she giggled and lowered her gaze. Ellie looked at her kindly and hoped that Charlotte knew what she was doing. She was so young.

    Charlotte Dillinger was a plump, pretty, sweet-faced girl. She was still fresh with the bloom of youth, her expression as yet untouched even by the sorrows of the past few months. She had lost a brother and her mother too and now had many responsibilities yet these tragedies could not pull her down for she had a new life of her own to look forward to with eagerness and joy.

    'I know Papa wants me to finish my education but I don't think Jack would like me to be too clever. He says I play the piano divinely though I fear he really has little appreciation of good music. He likes things that are sweet and charming, pretty
lieder,
while I love Bach, Haydn, Mozart, the great masters.'

    'Your musical taste is excellent, Lottie. But in company, of course, you will be expected to play "pretty" pieces, that's the way of it, I'm afraid. You will be expected to entertain.' said Ellie sympathetically. 'However, keep sweet and natural as you are, dear Charlotte, make delightful music for us all and then enjoy the pieces you love for your private moments. Tell me, what is the book you are reading there?'

    Charlotte made a face. 'Maucalay's essays. I hate his essays. Ellie. They are so unutterably boring. But Papa says Maucalay will improve my conversational skills. How could anything so boring ever improve anyone's conversation?'

    'Macaulay is an amazing writer and scholar, dear Lottie, and his arguments certainly good for the mind. But such intellectual debate isn't to everyone's taste. However, in the situation in which you will find yourself once married to Mr. Pendleton, you may need to feign interest in wider issues than the home. Men so adore politics. I'm thankful at times that Fred is indifferent about appearing intellectual. We discuss art, poetry and music – much more enriching and delightful than the economic situation and wars and the like.'

    'How I envy you!' sighed Charlotte. 'But I have no fear that Jack will prove too intellectual, quite the opposite. He is a sportsman above all and thinks and speaks of nothing else. I would be better learning about guns and dogs. All the same, I do so long to be married and have sweet little babies of my own. Papa says I must wait as I still have much to learn. He feels that this is a good opportunity for me to do so and I must make the most of it. I suppose he's right but I sometimes feel so frightened when it comes to arranging some big formal dinner in London. I always tremble lest I do something stupid and everyone will look at me with disapproval.'