The Nightingale Girls (20 page)

But no hope of having any life of her own either.

‘Do you want me to come home?’ she asked.

‘Only if that’s what you really want.’

‘I don’t have much choice, do I? Grandmother is right, I have to marry for the sake of Billinghurst.’

‘You always have a choice, Amelia.’ Her father was silent for a moment, gazing out over the estate. ‘I admit, I would like to think of you here one day with a husband and a happy family of your own. But at the end of the day it’s just a house. Bricks and mortar are not what’s important in life. What’s truly important is having someone to love and grow old with.’

She looked across at his strong, handsome profile and knew he was thinking about her mother. Even after nearly twenty years, his sadness still lay heavy on him.

Her mother, Charlotte, Countess of Rettingham, had died of fever two days after Millie was born. It had broken her father’s heart and even now he found it difficult to talk about her. Millie had found out nearly all she knew of her mother from talking to her grandmother and the servants. According to them, Charlotte Rettingham was beautiful and graceful, a gifted artist and musician. So far as she could tell, Millie’s only resemblance to her mother was her curly blonde hair and blue eyes.

Despite being alone for so many years, her father had never considered remarrying. But that didn’t stop him being the target for many ambitious women. Millie wasn’t surprised. As well as being one of the wealthiest landowners in the county, Henry Rettingham was still a very handsome man.

‘I don’t think Grandmother sees it that way!’ she said.

‘You have to make allowances for her. Things were very different in her day. Making a good marriage was the ultimate goal for girls of your age. Which is why she’s so determined to help you.’

No one could doubt the Dowager Countess had done her best, Millie thought. She had been well educated, sent to finishing school in Switzerland, where she had been taught to dance and arrange flowers. Before the Season, she had taken endless lessons in how to curtsey at Madam Vacani’s school in Kensington.

And yet, despite all her new-found talents, she still hadn’t managed to find a husband.

‘I don’t understand it,’ her grandmother had said. ‘It’s not as if you’re a pauper. You would think someone would want to marry you for your money, if nothing else.’

‘I must be a great disappointment to her,’ Millie said ruefully now.

‘You’re certainly not a disappointment to me.’ Her father reached across and took her gloved hand in his. ‘You’re a fine young woman, Amelia. I’m very proud of you, and I know your mother would have been proud too.’

Millie’s smile trembled as she squeezed his hand. She wished more than anything she could have known her mother. It would have meant everything to her to see her face for herself, instead of having to make do with just a few old photographs and a portrait hanging over the fireplace in the great hall.

‘Anyway,’ her father said, brightening. ‘I’m not planning to drop dead just yet. You’ve got plenty of years to carry on nursing before you have to think about providing a son and heir for Billinghurst!’ He pulled at Samson’s head to turn him around. ‘Now let’s go and take a look around the estate, shall we? If we’re not back for luncheon I feel sure your grandmother will not be very happy with me.’

Millie was enjoying herself so much, she was very reluctant to head back to the house, knowing what lay in store for her. Sure enough, as soon as luncheon was over, her grandmother ushered her up to her room to start getting ready for the Claremonts’ New Year’s Eve Ball.

Millie wasn’t looking forward to the preparations but she was looking forward to spending time with her maid Polly and catching up on all the gossip below stairs. So she was disappointed when she found her grandmother’s maid Louise waiting for her instead.

Louise was in her fifties, French and very proper. She had been with the Dowager Countess since she was a girl, and now fancied herself almost as grand as the old lady herself.

‘Where’s Polly?’ Millie asked.

‘Drawing a bath for you, my lady. Her ladyship thought that you might both benefit from my experience in the matter of preparing for this evening.’

Millie found Polly in the bathroom, looking resentful as she filled the tub with steaming water.

‘Her ladyship doesn’t trust me,’ she grumbled.

‘No, Polly, I’m afraid it’s me she doesn’t trust.’ Her grandmother clearly wasn’t taking any chances on Millie making it through the evening without disaster.

Louise was as tyrannical as her mistress. She bullied them both mercilessly, sending Polly scurrying here and there while she tutted and fussed over Millie at the dressing table with powder and lipstick and hairpins.

‘What have you done to your hair?’ she demanded, dragging an ivory-handled brush through what was left of Millie’s curls.

‘I didn’t have time to go to the salon, so I cut it myself.’ Millie enjoyed seeing the shock on both their faces, reflected in her dressing-table mirror. ‘It was terribly easy, I just chopped a bit off here and there so I could get it all under my cap. It’s an awful nuisance otherwise.’

Millie hoped she might at least have some say in what she wore for the evening, but Louise had already consulted Grandmother on the matter. She couldn’t fault their choice. Her dress was heavy crêpe, cut fashionably on the bias. The blush-pink colour flattered her pearly skin and blonde hair perfectly.

Millie twirled in front of the cheval glass. It was a long time since she’d worn anything vaguely becoming, let alone pretty. Her kid shoes were so light after the stout, sensible black shoes she usually wore, she felt as if she could dance all night.

Meanwhile Louise continued to tut and fuss over her appearance. Her hair was still all wrong, she didn’t hold
herself like a lady, and how was her diamond necklace supposed to look right with those awful red marks around her neck?

‘It’s where my collar rubs all day,’ Millie explained. ‘I’ve tried putting Vaseline on my skin, but it didn’t really help.’

She saw the shocked looks Louise and Polly exchanged, and knew exactly what they were thinking. She was treated worse than her father’s staff.

Her grandmother came in just as Louise was rearranging her hair for the third time.

‘Well? Will I do, Granny?’ Millie waited anxiously for her approval.

The Dowager Countess’s gaze swept over her. ‘Louise has done a good job, I suppose,’ she conceded stiffly. ‘Now hurry along, or the year will have ended before we get there.’

THE CLAREMONTS’ FAMILY
home, Lyford, was some thirty miles away. It was a beautiful Georgian house, far grander than Billinghurst, with its elegant symmetry and imposing frontage of Corinthian columns sitting in the centre of beautifully manicured parkland, surrounded by intricate flowerbeds and topiary.

As Felix the chauffeur drove the Daimler through the gates and up the sweeping drive illuminated by flaming torches, Millie could almost feel her grandmother’s bristling resentment. She and the Dowager Duchess of Claremont were distant cousins, and there were rumours that Grandmother and the old Duke had once been romantically involved before Cecilia swept in and snapped him up.

Millie understood why her grandmother might covet such a grand house, but she much preferred the homeliness of Billinghurst.

As she stepped from the car, her grandmother said, ‘Now remember, Amelia, Richard will be here this evening. I hope you will make a point of speaking to him?’

‘Try to catch his eye, you mean?’

‘Don’t be vulgar, child. But if you must put it that way – why not? He is Claremont’s eldest son, and one day all this will be his. And he always had rather a soft spot for you, as I recall. Don’t look at me like that,’ she added, as Millie frowned at her. ‘I dare say there will be a great many young women here tonight hoping to catch his eye, as you so crudely put it.’

Then they’re welcome to him, Millie thought. Sophia’s older brother Richard was an officer in the Guards, and one of the most pompous men Millie had ever met.

She had visited Lyford many times as a guest of her friend, but the impressive entrance hall, with its grand sweeping staircase, still took her breath away. It looked even more beautiful this evening, lit by the glow of hundreds of candles. The sound of a string quartet mingled with laughter and chatter and the clink of glasses from the ballroom beyond.

The Duke and Duchess greeted their arrival. Caroline Claremont was in her late forties, elegant and even more regal than Millie’s grandmother, if that were possible. Millie could never meet her without fighting the urge to bob a quick curtsey.

‘Rettingham, how wonderful to see you.’ The Duke was a very genial man, and a close friend of her father’s. They had served as officers together during the Great War. But unlike her handsome father, years of good living had left Claremont with a rounded figure and a red, hearty face. ‘And Lady Rettingham, you’re looking very well.’

‘Thomas,’ her grandmother greeted him. ‘How is your dear mother?’

‘Alas, she is indisposed and will not be joining us this evening.’

‘Oh, how very sad.’ Only Millie spotted the slight lifting of the corners of her grandmother’s mouth. ‘Do give her my very best wishes, won’t you?’

‘Amelia, how wonderful that you could join us.’ Millie felt unnerved as their host looked her up and down with a speculative gleam in his eyes. She was well aware of the Duke’s reputation as an old roué.

‘We were rather afraid you would be too busy nursing
the sick to join us this evening.’ Caroline Claremont looked amused.

‘I’m still training, they haven’t let me loose on any sick people yet,’ Millie replied.

‘How fascinating. We can’t wait to hear all about it.’ Then, just in case Millie thought she meant it, the Duchess immediately changed the subject. ‘Sophia is longing to see you. I believe she has some rather exciting news for you.’ She gave Millie a meaningful look.

Millie could already guess what it might be. But she didn’t have to wait long to find out as Sophia rushed up to greet her as soon as she entered the glittering ballroom.

‘I’m engaged!’ she blurted out, waggling her left hand under Millie’s nose. The impressive diamond sparkled in the light of the chandeliers.

‘That’s wonderful!’ Millie embraced her friend. ‘When did it happen?’

‘On Christmas Eve. Oh, Millie, it was so romantic. We were walking on the terrace, and suddenly he just took my hand, and . . .’ She sighed with happiness. ‘I can’t believe it.’

‘Why not? Anyone can see he’s besotted by you.’ And rightly too, she thought. Sophia was every inch the duchess in waiting, so beautiful and graceful and as elegant as her mother. Everything Millie wasn’t, in fact. She also understood her duty and was happy to submit to it in a way that Millie never would.

But it wasn’t just duty with Sophia. She was genuinely in love with David, and probably would have been even if he hadn’t been the son and heir of the Duke of Cleveland.

‘I want you to be a bridesmaid,’ Sophia said, her dark eyes shining with excitement. Millie stared at her.

‘Are you sure? I’m terribly clumsy, you know. I’ll probably trip over your train and ruin everything.’

‘You won’t.’

‘How can you be so certain? Remember the awful hash I made of my presentation?’

‘How could I forget?’ Sophia giggled.

Millie blushed at the memory. It had sounded so simple. Make one curtsey to the King, then rise, step to the side and make another to the Queen. Except somehow she had become entangled in her own train and almost pitched headlong at Her Majesty’s feet.

She didn’t know which infuriated her grandmother more, her dreadful faux-pas or the fact that she’d laughed about it so much afterwards.

They were still laughing when Sophia’s brother Seb joined them.

‘What are you two giggling about, as if I couldn’t guess?’ He was a year older than Sophia, and in his last year at Oxford. He was as good-looking as his sister, but as fair as Sophia was dark. He reminded Millie of a poet, with his fine-boned, sensitive face, long thin nose and clear grey eyes.

‘Your sister has just made the mistake of asking me to be her bridesmaid,’ Millie said. ‘Although now I come to think of it, I think it’s only fair I should ruin your day, since you’re ruining my life,’ she added. ‘You do realise that once news of your engagement gets out, my life won’t be worth living?’ she explained, as Sophia looked puzzled. ‘My grandmother will be completely relentless in her pursuit of a husband for me.’

‘Perhaps we should help her?’ Seb looked around the room. ‘Is there anyone you like the look of?’

‘I don’t know about that, but I have been told to keep my eye on your brother,’ she said.

‘Oh, God, not you too?’ Sophia laughed. ‘Richard is awfully popular, isn’t he?’

‘Undeservedly so,’ Seb said. ‘He’s a frightful bore. But it seems wit and intelligence count for very little compared to a title,’ he sighed. ‘Which is probably why I’m destined to spend the rest of my life on the shelf.’

‘At least you’ll have me for company,’ Millie grinned, taking his arm.

‘Unless Miss Farsley has other ideas,’ Sophia said mischievously. ‘Don’t look now, Seb darling, but she’s just walked in.’

‘Oh God,’ Seb groaned.

Millie followed their gaze to where a tall, raven-haired beauty stood in the doorway surveying the crowd. ‘Who is that?’

‘Georgina Farsley,’ Sophia said. ‘She arrived in England this summer with her family. American, and disgustingly wealthy.’

‘Obscenely,’ said Seb.

‘Her father buys his darling Georgina everything she wants. Except the one thing she really craves, that is.’

‘Which is?’

Sophia looked at her brother. ‘Have a guess.’

‘You mean Seb?’

‘Don’t sound so surprised.’ Seb looked hurt.

‘She’s been pursuing him around Lyford like a hound after a hare for the past two days,’ Sophia said. It’s simply too funny to watch.’

‘The poor girl,’ Millie said.

‘Poor girl? What about poor me?’ Seb said, outraged.

They went in to dinner shortly afterwards, and as she’d hoped, Millie found herself seated beside Sebastian.