Silk

‘I couldn’t believe it when I realised it was you, Lord Robert,’ Amber laughed once they were outside and out of view of the house.

‘And I can’t believe that I have to wear this beastly hat,’ Saville complained.

‘You said that you had always fancied the stage, Saville,’ Lord Robert told him cheerfully. ‘You should be grateful to me for giving you the opportunity to have an off-stage run. Besides, you would not have had to wear the hat if you were not sporting half a day’s growth of beard.’

Whilst Saville retreated into a sulky silence, Lord Robert told Amber, ‘It is Cecil you have to thank – oh, and Diana, she was party to it as well, when Cecil decided that you should be his protégée. Saville and I are simply the instruments by which his plan is to be conducted. Sadly, I’m afraid that Saville is on loan to us only for today, Cecil has refused to be without an assistant for any longer. But no matter, I am sure we shall do very well just the two of us, unless of course you wish me to find another chaperone for you?’

His smile was still teasing but Amber’s heart had started to flutter with a delicious heady excitement that was both unknown to her and yet at the same time something she immediately recognised. Was Lord Robert actually flirting with her? Amber rather thought that he might be.

‘It was clever of you to remember all about Lady Rutland’s ancestors. She was very impressed.’

Saville gave a snort of derision.

‘Now, Amber, let us get down to business,’ Lord Robert told her, ignoring Saville. ‘Cecil has given me instructions that you are to become knowledgeable in a wide variety of matters of fashion. He has made arrangements for us to visit the offices of Vogue magazine; although I suspect that will be more of a penance than a pleasure, knowing Cecil. I am to take you to shops and educate you as to architecture and design, and Cecil has told me to tell you that he will be setting you tests to ensure that you are studying diligently.’

Amber was overwhelmed. ‘He is too kind. Why should he go to so much trouble on my account?’

Lord Robert looked down at her. There was no point in explaining that Cecil Beaton was part of a world in which the whim of the moment was all – or at least on the surface it was. Cecil worked hard, and if he chose to affect a nonchalance that made it look as though he did not, then that was his affair.

To tell Amber that it had been amusing to drink cocktails and discuss what could be done to help her, and even more amusing to hatch a plan that involved drama and dressing up, would be cruel.

‘Since Cecil has to travel such a lot, the day-to-day management of your education must rest with me, your professor,’ Lord Robert informed Amber, his hands gripping the edges of his gown. ‘So, today we shall explore the modern phenomenon that is Selfridges.’

Selfridges! Amber’s face lit up. She had heard of the famous store – everyone had – although Lady Rutland claimed that it was vulgar and she shopped only in Harrods.

‘They have the most wonderful parties there,’ Amber told Lord Robert excitedly. ‘I read about one in the Express.’

‘Amber, you must not believe everything that Lord Beaverbrook says,’ Robert told her, tongue in cheek.

‘I’m not going to Selfridges looking like this,’ Saville told them petulantly.

‘Very well then, my dear, do not come,’ Robert answered him.

Looks passed between them that Amber did not understand, mocking on Robert’s part and angry on Saville’s.

They spent over two hours in Selfridges, going up to the roof garden to see where the bulbs were poking their heads through the earth, and to sit in the café and drink tea, before going back down to watch one of the famous Self-ridges models displaying a new collection of jewellery.

‘What do you think of it?’ Robert asked Amber.

She hesitated and then admitted, ‘It is very pretty. The diamonds sparkle so much, but …’

‘But?’ Robert encouraged her.

‘It is not to my taste. I should prefer something a little less … shiny.’

Robert nodded approvingly. Cecil had been right: the child had a good eye and good taste, although what exactly she would be able to do with them, given her situation, he wasn’t sure. She certainly wouldn’t be making a career as one of Cecil’s assistants. She lacked a very important qualification for that. She wasn’t male.

Amber’s eyes rounded when she recognised a familiar face.

‘That’s the Prince of Wales,’ she whispered to Lord Robert in awe.

‘Yes, indeed.’ Robert glanced at the Prince and saw that he was with his mistress, Freda Dudley Ward. The Prince had a taste for outspoken American women – outspoken married American women – although he wasn’t going to say anything about that to Amber, who was still in many ways too sweetly naïve.

An hour later, Lord Robert returned an exhausted but very happy Amber to Cadogan Place.

Two nights later, as she lay in bed, Amber decided that she was happier than she had ever thought it was possible to be. Yesterday she had been taken to Selfridges by Lord Robert and today she had performed her curtsy perfectly.

Unexpectedly, and thanks to Lord Robert, London and her new life had become far more exciting and fun than she had ever believed possible. How lucky she was to have met Lord Robert and how kind he was to have befriended her in the way he had. Amber couldn’t wait for their next meeting.

Chapter Seven (#ue06af8bf-ced4-5ff5-9234-e9635c824cdb)

‘It’s intolerable and if I had my way he’d be thrashed within an inch of his life.’

Blanche Pickford looked at her visitor, schooling her expression not to betray the fury she was feeling.

‘I agree, Lord Fitton Legh; it is indeed intolerable when a married woman lies to her husband in an attempt to conceal an affair. As for your wish to thrash my grandson within an inch of his life, all I can say is that it takes two to commit adultery.’

Her neighbour’s already mottled skin turned almost purple with rage. ‘You have not heard me correctly, obviously, madam. It is your grandson who attempted to force himself on my wife. Dammit all, woman, there was a witness. Cassandra saw everything.’

‘Yes, so you said,’ Blanche agreed, adding pointedly, ‘Your poor wife, she must have felt very beset, having two ardent supplicants for her favours.’

Lord Fitton Legh looked as though he might explode. ‘Allow me to tell you, madam, that your reaction betrays your class, or rather your lack of it,’ he sneered. ‘Any person of breeding would understand—’

‘What? What is there to understand other than that my grandson and your wife have been having an affair under your nose? Is blue blood thinner than red? Do you wish me to understand that persons of breeding do not have affairs? Come, Lord Fitton Legh, let’s be plain with one another. You wish to see my grandson punished.’

‘Punished? I shall see to it that he is ruined. You can make up your mind to that. You won’t be foisting him off on the county as a prospective parliamentary candidate now, Mrs Pickford. When people learn of the way he has insulted my wife— Oh, you may look at me like that, but Cassandra is prepared to swear on the Bible that the crime was all his. My wife had confided to her how upset she was about your grandson’s ungentlemanly manner towards her, and naturally when Cassandra heard my wife cry out she hurried to her aid, only to discover your grandson on the point of assaulting her.’

‘Shocking indeed, and I dare say a total pack of lies. Whilst it is none of my business I would caution you against making your story public, Lord Fitton Legh. There are always those who believe that there is no smoke without a fire and, after all, Lady Fitton Legh is a very beautiful and high-spirited young woman married to a much older husband.’

‘Why, you … I’ll ruin him, I tell you. He won’t be able to show his face in Cheshire for the rest of his life.’

‘I understand your feelings. Greg has behaved badly. I am quite prepared to punish him for that by banishing him from Cheshire – and indeed from England – for a time. However, I am not prepared to stand by and see him ruined.’

‘You can’t prevent it.’

‘Such a pity that you should have to face this additional worry. I hear that your father-in-law has lost a very great deal of money on Wall Street recently.’

Blanche paused and looked down at her hands, as though more intent on studying them than continuing their discussion, before lifting her gaze to Lord Fitton Legh’s face and continuing almost gently, ‘You yourself are currently rather, shall we say, overextended – so much so, in fact, that you have had to mortgage Fitton Hall.’

‘You can’t possibly know that.’

‘Oh, but you see I do. You know, it is always rather foolish, I think, to let young people have their head without checking them, especially a certain type of young person. I am thinking of poor Cassandra here. One does not like to say too much, of course, but there has been talk about her preference for her own sex. I dare say there will be those who will wonder about the true provenance of her story with regard to my grandson. So sordid and unpleasant. But alas, it is too late now to remedy the situation. However, I’m sure that, two older and wiser heads together, between us you and I can come up with something more balanced and closer to the truth. A young man, foolish and impressionable, falls in love with a devoted and beautiful young wife. A regrettable situation but understandable. Of course, neither of them has any intention of giving way to their feelings. They are, after all, very honourable. Sadly, though, events conspire to throw them into one another’s company, a foolish moment of weakness on the part of the young man, allied to loneliness on the part of the devoted wife, lead to an embrace, which is instantly regretted by both parties. Unfortunately, though, this embrace was witnessed by an overexcitable young woman who has yet to learn the ways of the world.

‘Those with wiser heads decide that the young man should be sent away in order to learn the error of his ways; the devoted wife remains exactly that, of course. The young man – naturally and honourably – says nothing of the fact that the lonely wife invited him into the privacy of her private quarters and without a chaperone, knowing that her husband was absent. He, however, did admit this folly on her part to, shall we say, his family. But why torment the poor girl with the threat of even more shame than she must already bear? She has learned her lesson, we must suppose.’

‘That’s blackmail.’

‘No, Lord Fitton Legh,’ Blanche corrected him coldly. ‘It’s self-preservation. I understand that your pride has suffered a severe blow, but I am sure that the application of a comfortable sum of money – enough, shall we say, to pay off your creditors and enable you to keep Fitton Hall – will aid its speedy recovery.’