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Authors: Santa Montefiore

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BOOK: The Beekeeper's Daughter
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‘I suppose she has always fed off the misfortunes of others,’ said Grace.

‘She most certainly has. But still, her daughter has run off and Bill and Evelyn have no idea where she is. The girl left a note, but she didn’t say where she was going. You see, she doesn’t want to be found and she certainly doesn’t want to come back.’

‘Poor Suzie.’ Grace sighed. ‘Trixie and she make a sorry pair, don’t they?’

Big pulled a face. ‘Oh, Suzie will recover; she has a very shallow heart, but Trixie, now
she’s
the one I feel most sorry for.’

‘She’s desperate, Big, and it grieves me so much to see her like that.’

‘What a cad to promise marriage and then let her down.’ Big’s face hardened. ‘If I were his mother . . .’

‘I’m afraid I think it’s his mother who has prevented the marriage,’ Grace interrupted.

‘Really? Why would she do that?’

Grace put down her teacup. ‘Because they are a very grand family and it’s his duty to marry one of his own.’

‘What’s the name?’

‘Penselwood. Lord Jasper Duncliffe’s elder brother died without an heir, so the title has passed to his brother. Jasper is now the Marquess of Penselwood.’ Grace dropped her gaze into her tea.

‘Now, I know that name,’ said Big slowly, narrowing her eyes.

‘You do?’ Grace asked, surprised.

‘Of course I do. My father knew the Marquess of Penselwood. What was his name? It was a funny one.’

‘Aldrich?’

‘That’s the one. Aldrich Penselwood. You know, he had a house here on Tekanasset. He used to summer here with his wonderfully eccentric wife, Arabella, and their children. I remember about three or four mighty beautiful children. One of them was very naughty. A darling little boy called Rufus. Yes, Rufus, I remember now. He was delightful.’

‘Jasper is Rufus’s son,’ said Grace. ‘What a coincidence that they used to summer here.’

‘Coincidence? I don’t think so. Surely that’s why Jasper was here in the first place.’

Grace felt as if she had just been stung. Why hadn’t she thought of that? ‘Why did they stop coming?’ she asked.

‘The war, I imagine. I don’t know. They never came back after that and we lost touch with them. My father was very fond of Aldrich. They were both keen golfers, and if I remember rightly, Aldrich loved boats. He used to collect them, proper ones, expensive ones, and have them shipped to England in crates. And he used to make model boats, too. I felt sorry for Arabella. I don’t imagine he gave her much attention.’ She shrugged. ‘Then again, perhaps she was very frosty in the bedroom and that drove him to seek solace in his boats. I don’t remember her smiling very much. But
he
had a twinkle.’ She summoned a waiter and ordered two slices of cranberry pie.

Grace’s mind was busy making sense of the fact that Rufus had been to Tekanasset. She recalled the time she had gone to Walbridge Hall and momentarily glimpsed his father’s study with all those model ships and paintings of the sea. She realized he must have bought them
here.

‘You know, I’m sure I have photos of Aldrich. My father was a keen photographer and my mother was very scrupulous about keeping his photographs,’ Big continued. But Grace wasn’t listening. Was it a coincidence that Freddie had chosen to move here? ‘Grace, what are you thinking about?’ Big asked, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

Grace blinked and reddened. ‘Oh, nothing. Just that Trixie doesn’t know Jasper is titled,’ she said.

‘Why not? What does he have to hide?’

‘I think he knew all along that he would never be able to marry her.’

‘Then why put her through the agony?’

‘Because he
wanted
to, and while he was here it seemed possible. Once he got home and faced his mother, who I imagine is as formidable as her mother-in-law was, he realized it wasn’t going to work.’

‘Look, I’m old-fashioned, but surely gone are the days of arranged marriages?’

‘You’re right, they
are
gone, but still the aristocracy retain a sense of duty. Jasper will need to find a partner who can help him run the estate. She’ll have to hold grand dinners for the county bigwigs, arrange charity functions in their ballroom, the summer fête in their garden, lunches to raise money for the church. She’ll have to rub shoulders with the royal family at Royal Ascot and hobnob with dukes and duchesses during the London season. Can you imagine Trixie living that sort of life? She’d loathe the formality and the duty.’ Grace’s spirits deflated as Rufus’s voice seemed to reverberate across the decades. ‘The only women capable of that are the ones who are bred for it,’ she added, but it could have been Rufus, speaking through her.

‘Then Trixie has had a lucky escape,’ said Big firmly.

‘I think she has, but right now she believes she’ll never love anyone again.’

‘She will, and if she doesn’t she’ll end up like me and I haven’t done too badly.’

Grace smiled fondly at Big. ‘Did you ever come close?’

‘Oh yes.’ Big’s eyes sparkled and she cut the corner of her cranberry pie with her fork. ‘I had many suitors.’

‘But none of them was good enough?’

‘None of them came close to my Pa.’ She popped the piece of pie in her mouth and chewed enthusiastically. ‘They were all diminished by him. He was such a great man, he made them look inadequate. But I have no regrets. My Pa was God’s greatest gift to me and not a day goes by when I don’t miss him.’

Grace thought of her own father and felt a pang of homesickness. ‘I miss mine, too, Big. Do you think we ever grow too old to miss them?’

‘Never!’ Big was certain. ‘They’re our first loves, and in my case, my
only
love – although poor Pa was always trying to marry me off. He and Ma wanted grandchildren. They despaired. But that’s just the way it was. I wasn’t going to budge an inch.’ Big patted Grace’s hand and chuckled. ‘Enough about me. Trixie will love again and one day she’ll look back on her past and thank the good Lord she didn’t marry Jasper, because she will have found happiness with someone better. One has to be philosophical.’

‘Trixie’s not at all philosophical. She and Suzie are talking of going to New York. Freddie would like her to go to college, but she doesn’t want to go. She wants her life to start right away.’

‘I suppose it’s time they made their own way in the world.’

‘Trixie wants to work for
Vogue.
If she’s lucky enough to get a job, she’ll start at the bottom making the tea. But she’ll work her way up, and if she’s clever enough, she might end up where she wants to be.’

‘Which is?’

‘Editor, probably, but more likely writing about fashion and seeing a bit of the world.’

Big’s steely eyes glinted. ‘Is she serious about wanting to work in fashion?’

‘Yes, she’s a bright girl and she writes well.’

‘Then let me see what I can do for her. I know one or two people who might be useful to her.’

‘Thank you, Big. That would be wonderful.’

‘Think nothing of it,’ said Big. ‘It’s what friends do.’

When Grace returned home it was getting dark. She called for Trixie, but the house was silent except for the excited panting of the dogs. She looked at her watch. She had just enough time to take them for a walk up the beach before sunset. They wagged their tails and bounded onto the sand. There was a strong wind and Grace wrapped her coat tightly around her. She thought of Evelyn and her heart went out to her, for she knew what it was to suffer. As much as she disliked the woman, she wouldn’t wish that kind of heartache on anybody.

As she strode up the sand she thought of Rufus. When she left England after the war she had assumed she was leaving every shadow of him behind. For each corner of Walbridge was haunted by his memory, and as long as she was there she knew she’d never be free of him. But now she realized his shadow reached Tekanasset. Perhaps he had walked up that very beach. He would most certainly have gone to Crab Cove golf club. How strange that all these years she felt so far away from him, she was actually walking in his footsteps.

The fact that his family had once taken a house here explained why Jasper had come to the island with his band. Maybe Rufus’s parents had known Joe Hornby and given Jasper his details. She wondered when and how Rufus had died. In her memory he was still the young man she had fallen in love with. She couldn’t imagine him older. She certainly couldn’t imagine him dead. The thought made her go cold and she put her head down to walk against the wind.

It was getting dark now. She could barely see the dogs. She turned around and walked with her back against the wind, which was much easier. She mulled over these new, troubling revelations as the dogs bounded over the dunes, frolicking in the long grasses. When she reached home she was greeted by Freddie, waving at her from the veranda. She quickened her pace, hoping that Trixie was all right. She had been so down lately. Grace was unable to see Freddie’s expression from where she was, but as she approached she saw another person through the glass door, standing in the kitchen.

She rushed up the garden path, the dogs at her heels. Freddie opened the door to let her in. There, standing with her back against the counter, was Evelyn Durlacher. Grace was astonished. She didn’t think that, in all the years she had lived on Sunset Slip, Evelyn had ever visited her home. ‘Hello, Grace,’ said Evelyn, smiling tightly.

Grace took in her immaculately coiffed hair, her perfectly applied lipstick and nail polish, her pearls and her fine cashmere twinset in the palest grey, and couldn’t think of anything to do other than smile back. ‘Hello, Evelyn. What a surprise.’

‘I know, it’s long overdue. Freddie has sweetly given me a drink. You must have heard the news about Lucy. I imagine the whole island is chattering about nothing else. I’ve never needed a drink more than now.’

‘Shall we go into the sitting room? It’s not very comfortable here in the kitchen.’

‘Oh, I’m easy,’ she replied, but Grace led her into the sitting room anyway. Evelyn was the sort of woman who was a stranger to kitchens, especially her own.

Grace had a flair for gardens, but she did not have a flair for interior decoration. The sitting room was undoubtedly the cosiest on Tekanasset, but nothing coordinated and in spite of Freddie’s obsessional tidiness, it was pleasantly scruffy and disorganized. Freddie gave a grunt of irritation and disappeared into his study, where nothing was out of place. But this was Grace’s room, full of potted plants, ornamental bees and books that overflowed from the bookcases onto every surface, along with newspapers, magazines and Grace’s garden designs drawn on pieces of paper.

Evelyn moved a pile of sketches off the sofa and sat down. Grace chose the armchair and the dogs flopped onto the rug in front of the empty fireplace. ‘What a lovely room,’ said Evelyn, sweeping her eyes over it.

Grace knew she was just being polite. She had seen Evelyn’s exquisitely decorated sitting room. ‘Thank you,’ she replied, all the same. She wasn’t going to apologize for the chaos.

‘I like your bees. You collect them, do you?’

Grace fingered the gold bee brooch that she always wore below her right shoulder. ‘I’ve always loved bees,’ she replied softly.

‘Well, you’re a fine beekeeper. Your honey is the best on the island.’ Evelyn sighed and looked a little awkward. ‘You must be wondering why I’m here.’

‘Well, I imagine it has something to do with Lucy. Are you hoping I’ll be able to help you find her?’

‘Lord, no,’ said Evelyn. ‘I don’t want to find her if she doesn’t want to be found.’ She gave a joyless chuckle and glanced down at her manicure. ‘I must give up trying to control her. That’s what Bill says and I’m sure he’s right. If she wants to run off with a musician, that’s her business.

That’s what Bill said, too. Let her go, were his words. So, I have let her go.’

‘Oh, Evelyn, I’m sorry,’ Grace said, her voice full of compassion.

Evelyn’s eyes began to shine with tears. ‘I’m sorry. You sound so sympathetic’ She took a gulp of wine.

‘You can only do your best. Lucy’s a grown-up now. You can guide them but ultimately they will do exactly as they choose.’

‘How is Trixie? Is she OK?’

‘She’s fine, thank you,’ Grace replied cagily. She didn’t want Evelyn spreading her daughter’s misery around the island.

Evelyn sighed and her shoulders sagged. ‘You might not feel very lucky, but you are lucky. You haven’t lost Trixie.’

‘I would have let her go, if she had been happy,’ said Grace. ‘That’s all one ever wants for one’s children, don’t you think?’

‘Of course,’ Evelyn agreed quickly. ‘The trouble is I thought I knew what made her happy. It turns out I didn’t know at all. But what’s going to become of her? I know nothing about this young man, except that he’s English and plays guitar and keyboard. Lucy wrote me a note saying that she’s in love and not to worry about her. She didn’t say where she was going. She didn’t take much with her, just a suitcase. I don’t know what she’s going to do for money. Bill is quite prepared to support her. She might get in touch when she runs out of the little cash she took with her.’ She shrugged helplessly and sniffed. ‘At least, I hope so.’

‘How can I help you, Evelyn?’ Grace asked, wondering when she was going to tell her why she had come.

‘You’re being a great help just listening, Grace.’

‘I’d like to do more. Have you asked Joe where they’ve gone?’

‘Yes, but he says he no longer has anything to do with them. I think Jasper was the one paying for his services, so he’s checked out, so to speak. They’re on their own.’

‘Did she take her passport with her?’

‘No.’

‘So she’s not expecting to return to England with him?’

‘I don’t think so.’ She smiled sadly. ‘You know, after that party in the summer I went up the beach in my nightdress to find Lucy there with the other one. What was he called?’

‘George.’

‘That’s the one. George. They were smoking cannabis and getting up to all sorts of things, and I really lost my temper. You probably heard about it. I saw red. I didn’t think about Lucy. I thought about
me
and what everyone was going to say when word got around that Lucy was getting up to no good. I had let everyone know that I disapproved of them, you see.’ She took a white cotton handkerchief out of her sleeve and blew her nose. ‘Excuse me,’ she said politely. ‘I didn’t give them a chance. Silly, really, considering that Jasper was obviously from a very good family. I mean, he has an estate and all, so he must be well bred, mustn’t he?’

BOOK: The Beekeeper's Daughter
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