infatuation with him could be leading, Adrian had considered it a sound investment for two weeks’ salary and twenty-five years later, it still looked superb – a tribute to his own unchanging shape as much as Messrs Hawes & Curtis’s skill.
And Charles of course, darling Charles, had looked brilliantly handsome as always; he had danced with her not once but twice, telling her how lovely she looked, how proud of her he was. Not many sons would do that.
All the young people had behaved pretty well; there had been the usual horsing around by some of the male element and a couple of the girls had been really rather drunk, especially the one doing striptease by the ladies’ loos, but it had all stayed good-natured and Eliza had clearly had a lovely time. And as a final coating of icing on the cake, both Tatler and Queen had sent photographers.
Sarah was a little anxious that so far into her Season, Eliza had clearly still not found anyone she considered special, but she was only seventeen, a bit too young perhaps to be thinking about marriage.
‘Hello, Mummy. Pleased with your night’s work?’
‘Oh, Charles, hello. Darling, you look tired. Sit down and I’ll get you some breakfast.’
‘No, I’m fine. Had some earlier. Well, it all went well, didn’t it? And Eliza looked jolly nice.’
‘Didn’t she? And seemed to enjoy herself.’
Sarah smiled at him: her firstborn and the great love of her life. After Adrian, of course. She could hardly believe he was twenty-one, and out in the world. Well, not quite; he’d have to do his National Service first before finally settling down to his career. He was hoping to go overseas: ‘Hong Kong, or maybe Gib. See a bit of the world before I have to buckle down in the City.’
‘Darling,’ she said, patting his shoulder affectionately, ‘I shall miss you.’
‘Oh, nonsense. Time’ll fly by. I’m looking forward to it actually. Some of the chaps are taking a short service commission, doing three years. I did wonder about that, get a bit more out of it.’
Sarah looked at him, slightly alarmed; she and Adrian had been looking forward to stopping Charles’s allowance, or at least cutting it drastically. Another year in the army would mean another year of expense.
‘But in the end I decided against it,’ he said. ‘I want to get on with the job, make a bit of dosh, that sort of thing.’
‘And you’ll be called up soon now you’ve left Oxford?’
‘Yes. Six weeks’ basic training in some Nissen hut and then Mons, hopefully, and the regiment. It should be fun.’
‘I believe it’s awfully tough.’
‘Can’t be worse than the first half-term at prep school.’
‘Charles! Were you really so unhappy?’
‘Well, a bit. I was homesick. And quite hungry, the food was awful. But it didn’t do me any harm, did it? God, I’ll certainly send my kids. The old place looked nice last night, didn’t it?’ he added.
‘Didn’t it? Your grandfather would have been so happy.’
The old place was an exquisite small Palladian villa, built at the top of a gentle rise, smiling graciously down on the village of Wellesley, a little to the south of Marlborough and looking just slightly – although beautifully – out of place there, like a fashionable woman wearing her couture clothes to walk down the village street. Built in 1755, it had a charming legend. A young but very well-born architect called Jonathan Becket was looking for work and was at a soirée one evening in Bath. He had actually studied with John Wood the Younger, who, with his father, was responsible for many of Bath’s architectural wonders. There he met and fell in love with the beautiful Lady Anne Cunninghame, and she with him; married to Sir Ralph Cunninghame, she was the young and dreadfully spoiled daughter of the eccentric Earl of Grasmere, used to having her own way in all things and not in the least in love with her middle-aged husband apart from his wealth.
Sir Ralph for his part was
Michelle Ann Hollstein, Laura Martinez