clotted cream and strawberry jam was de rigueur for a weekend tennis gathering at a British stately home. Antonia and Mathew had won the doubles and, in the singles, Mathew was only justbeaten in the semi-finals by the person who had gone on to win the contest. As Mathew relaxed on the veranda of the thatched summer house, under the shade of two century-old oak trees, he considered how much the setting contrasted to the small veranda in front of his rodent and insect-infested hut near to the entrance to Kahuzi-Biega. An environment that he very much doubted any of his fellow tournament players would have enjoyed or even survived in.
Comparing the two lifestyles, he had found it almost impossible to come out in favour of one against the other, and considered the possibility of merging them both. It had been whilst sitting in this agreeable environment that he attempted to understand the depth of his freshly kindled fondness for Antonia, and how such feelings had contributed to the emotional dilemma and moral contradictions that had now started to haunt him. He also deeply regretted that since he had been back in England, he hadn’t mentioned anything to either his parents or his closest friends about his deep love and intimate relationship with Lucienne.
The arrival of Captain Sebastian Duncan back at Hartington Hall was greeted with great warmness by everybody, including the staff. Even Sid Stockdale, an ex-National Service trooper in the Household Brigade, was quick to act as if he was the Captain’s batman by proudly unloading his brown leather monogrammed suitcase from the Daimler, and carrying it personally up to Sebastian’s bedroom, This would have been conveyed by a lesser mortal under normal circumstances. Although Lady Sally wanted to arrange a number of social events while she had her two sons back at home again, Sebastian and Mathew had managed to persuade her to confine such visits to just close family members; neither of them wished to become involved with the intricacies of their mother’s matrimonial match-making.
Much of the family conversation during Mathew’s final few days at Hartington Hall revolved around the future running of the 1,800-acre estate, and the financial constraints that would be required during the next decade on the two estate farms in order to make them more economically viable. However, Sir Colin had highlighted the financial viability of both the annual four-month grouse and five-month partridge shoots.
‘The estate has recently become an integral part of the Yorkshire Dales National Park,’ Sir Colin told his sons. ‘Do you know, nearly the whole park is under private ownership? We’re all extremely fortunate to have Hartington Hall as our ancestral home – we’ve all benefited from the magnificent scenery of the Fells, grouse moors, hill farms, dry-stone walls . . . the streams that tumble down from the hills . . .’ As if their father were working on behalf of the Yorkshire Dales Tourist Board, he highlighted how the rain, wind, fog, frost and snowfalls that regularly occurred throughout the winter months contrasted so magnificently with the beautiful, bright, clear days that they were currently experiencing and how such significant changes had always contributed so much to the Dales’ rich biodiversity.
While their father was painting such an idyllic picture, Sebastian and Mathew knew only too well that was leading up to a matter of major importance to him. ‘In seven years time I’ll be celebrating my seventieth birthday. . . I’m no longer in the best of health and I sincerely doubt that after 1980 I’ll be in a position to carry on running the estate successfully, with its best interests at heart. In order to safeguard the long-term financial viability of Hartington Hall and it environs, would either of you be interested in stepping into the breach, as it were?’
Sebastian was the first to speak up. ‘You know how important Hartington is to me,
Comparing the two lifestyles, he had found it almost impossible to come out in favour of one against the other, and considered the possibility of merging them both. It had been whilst sitting in this agreeable environment that he attempted to understand the depth of his freshly kindled fondness for Antonia, and how such feelings had contributed to the emotional dilemma and moral contradictions that had now started to haunt him. He also deeply regretted that since he had been back in England, he hadn’t mentioned anything to either his parents or his closest friends about his deep love and intimate relationship with Lucienne.
The arrival of Captain Sebastian Duncan back at Hartington Hall was greeted with great warmness by everybody, including the staff. Even Sid Stockdale, an ex-National Service trooper in the Household Brigade, was quick to act as if he was the Captain’s batman by proudly unloading his brown leather monogrammed suitcase from the Daimler, and carrying it personally up to Sebastian’s bedroom, This would have been conveyed by a lesser mortal under normal circumstances. Although Lady Sally wanted to arrange a number of social events while she had her two sons back at home again, Sebastian and Mathew had managed to persuade her to confine such visits to just close family members; neither of them wished to become involved with the intricacies of their mother’s matrimonial match-making.
Much of the family conversation during Mathew’s final few days at Hartington Hall revolved around the future running of the 1,800-acre estate, and the financial constraints that would be required during the next decade on the two estate farms in order to make them more economically viable. However, Sir Colin had highlighted the financial viability of both the annual four-month grouse and five-month partridge shoots.
‘The estate has recently become an integral part of the Yorkshire Dales National Park,’ Sir Colin told his sons. ‘Do you know, nearly the whole park is under private ownership? We’re all extremely fortunate to have Hartington Hall as our ancestral home – we’ve all benefited from the magnificent scenery of the Fells, grouse moors, hill farms, dry-stone walls . . . the streams that tumble down from the hills . . .’ As if their father were working on behalf of the Yorkshire Dales Tourist Board, he highlighted how the rain, wind, fog, frost and snowfalls that regularly occurred throughout the winter months contrasted so magnificently with the beautiful, bright, clear days that they were currently experiencing and how such significant changes had always contributed so much to the Dales’ rich biodiversity.
While their father was painting such an idyllic picture, Sebastian and Mathew knew only too well that was leading up to a matter of major importance to him. ‘In seven years time I’ll be celebrating my seventieth birthday. . . I’m no longer in the best of health and I sincerely doubt that after 1980 I’ll be in a position to carry on running the estate successfully, with its best interests at heart. In order to safeguard the long-term financial viability of Hartington Hall and it environs, would either of you be interested in stepping into the breach, as it were?’
Sebastian was the first to speak up. ‘You know how important Hartington is to me,
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