After the party

Hortense has gone away again, to loud farewells and in a flutter of drapery. Back to what we are told are the echoing chambers and chilly corridors of her house in Suffolk; having first extracted from us a promise that we would go down and visit her just as soon as we could.

Lady Macauley was not sorry to see her go. “Well thank goodness for that!” was what she in fact said, after the black cab had borne Hortense away. “I can remove my ear-plugs now. My favourite cousin’s child she may be, but she grows more preposterous with every year that passes. I never was able to understand a word she said, not even when she was a child - and nor I think were her unfortunate parents, whom I suspect of believing there must have been some sort of foul play or accident surrounding the circumstances of her birth.”

Several days have passed since Lady Macauley’s birthday party. The sunshine has vanished again, and squally rain returned; it has been the most dismal of summers. And Bill: is Bill in a blissful dreamlike state over his declared and newly consummated love? Well, yes and no, is the only answer I can give. He suffers no afterthoughts or pangs of doubt; he has made a commitment at last, and he says that it feels better, and wiser, than anything he's done in many years. But Bill is not a patient man, nor one who likes to have to try to conceal his intentions. It has taken him precisely three days to grow impatient with what he calls ‘hiding in cupboards to try to dodge the old lady’; he has begun muttering imprecations against her, and threatens to stage a confrontation just as soon as a suitable moment presents.

I have advised him against it. Unless, that is, he should have reached the sort of understanding with Belle that would make it the natural thing to do?

“An understanding to marry her – I suppose that’s what you mean?” He was bellowing at me now, in a way to which I had been accustomed since our early childhood, but which could still make it necessary for me to hold on to something solid within reach, just to stand my ground. Then as now though, the storm was quick to pass; and it wasn’t many minutes before he was quiet again, assuring me that of course he would do nothing violent that would make life difficult for Belle - but that it was a ‘damned awkward’ thing for all that, and a grotesquely invidious position in which to find oneself, when the wealth of the woman one loved was so vastly in excess of one’s own!

I saw his dilemma, and admitted that it was deep. But all the same I said, I had an idea that Belle would give it all up tomorrow, if it meant the difference between being with him, or not.

“She’s not to inherit anyway” I said. “She has told me so herself. The house, and all the companies and business interests will pass to Jack – and after him to his son Will. And there are several sons and grandsons on what Lady Macauley calls ‘the other side’ besides - by which I have always taken her to mean the offspring of Sir Jack’s first marriage - who will stand to inherit before she does.”

Bill conceded that this was so – but that it still left Flory, Lady Macauley’s family home in Suffolk, which he happened to know had been pledged to Belle.

“And you know as well as I do, Bea” he added. “that with dynasties of this sort there are always assets and properties hidden away. There’s a house in Italy for a start - and that's just the one we know about. And then think of all the millions which must have accrued in companies and shares over the years! No, which ever way you look at it, Belle is an exceedingly wealthy woman – so that if anyone is to propose marriage, it’s probably going to have be her!”

He did take my point though – and agreed that to stage a rumpus with the old lady now would be the most invidious thing of all. What would it look like after all – if not the tantrum of a callow youth who was out to grab the goods? Even the wily parson would have found a better way of proceeding than that! At which point he stomped off with Monty to the Common, where I didn’t doubt he would be meeting Belle in some degree of privacy and comfort; and I went in another direction with my own dog Florence, so as to avoid the risk of intruding upon them.

Bill’s resolve was to be put to a stern test later that afternoon however. Lady Macauley had phoned to ask us to come over on a matter of some importance; and no sooner had we arrived, finding her seated in the little panelled parlour with Belle and Rose, than she saw fit to treat us to one of her more provocative remarks.

“Belle is looking peculiarly radiant just at present, don’t you think?” she observed; thereby directing all our eyes toward Belle, who did indeed have a radiance about her, and had exchanged her usual trousers for a pretty dress. “ I have been asking myself about its possible cause. And wonder if she has perhaps taken Mr Porteous for her lover at last?”

Bill uttered an explosive sound, and seemed likely to break out; so that I prepared myself for the confrontation which, despite his best intentions, must surely now follow. But Belle had kept her head, if no-one else had. She was sharply embarrassed, but she cast the kind of imploring look at Bill which stayed his hand; and so the perilous moment passed. It was observed at all in fact only by Rose, who laughed – rather immoderately, I thought – and remarked that if Belle and Mr Porteous were lovers, they had a curious way of showing it, since she happened to know that David had gone off two days ago on a short visit to his old parish.

It was the sort of throwaway reaction that one has come to expect of Rose, and I confess I didn’t like her any the better for it. But it was enough to defuse the situation. The air in the room, which had seemed suspended for a moment, resumed its natural progress; I breathed again, and so did Bill. And Lady Macauley herself had dismissed the whole thing from her mind the next moment, and was telling us what it was that she had really called us over to talk about.

“I have grown weary of all this rain and want some sunshine” she announced, addressing herself to Bill. “So we have decided to go to Italy, Belle and Rose and I; and would very much like it if you and Bea would join us for a week or two. There’s a villa we have in Tuscany, you know. It’s quite a plain affair – no painted ceilings or anything of that sort. But it’s very spacious, and there’s a pool in the garden. It’s up in the hills above Florence, so the air is pleasant and the views are good. We leave tomorrow – but you can take your own time about arriving, if only you’ll agree to come.... “

So there it is. It required just four minutes for treacherous situations to be by-passed; and the moment of possible confrontation has gone away, at least for the moment. And we have already made our flight plans, and are to go up into the hills of Tuscany on Saturday, by way of Gatwick, Pisa and Florence....