The American Heiress by Daisy Goodwin Page B

too. But Cora was talking to the young man on her left, altogether too animatedly in Mrs Cash’s view, and had not heard. Mrs Cash cleared her throat and rose to her feet.
    ‘In that case, Duke, you leave me no choice but to accept your very kind invitation; I would hate to be the cause of a duchess’s disappointment. I shall write to Lord Bridport tonight. Ladies, shall we?’
    The Duke rose to his feet to open the door. As Cora passed him, he looked at her and smiled, this time without reservation.
    ‘You must allow me to show you over Lulworth, when you feel well enough, Miss Cash.’
    ‘I would like that very much, but I insist on having the bows and arrows.’ Cora picked up her train and followed her mother up the stairs.
    As the footmen cleared the rest of the dishes from the table and brought in the port, Father Oliver stood up and bowed to the other two men.
    ‘If Your Grace will excuse me, I would like to get back to the Fourth Duke. Such a devout man, quite an inspiration. Goodnight, gentlemen.’
    The Duke rolled his eyes as the well-fed figure of the priest left the room. ‘He has the zeal of the convert. Takes it all very seriously. Guy and he were very thick.’ He paused and Reggie moved up to sit next to him. Silently, the Duke passed him the decanter. The room was empty now apart from the two men. The only noises were the crackle of the fire in the stone fireplace and the tapping of the Duke’s fingers as he inflicted an invisible rhythm on the polished surface of the table. Finally he spoke.
    ‘Thank you for coming down at such short notice. I promise the sport will be tolerable, if nothing else.’
    ‘It’s been too long, Ivo. I haven’t seen you since…’ Reggie stopped. The last time he had been at Lulworth was for Guy’s funeral.
    Ivo looked at him, reading his thoughts. ‘It was a year ago this week. Feels longer.’
    ‘Is that why the Duchess is coming?’
    ‘She would like me to think so, but she only sent the telegram yesterday.’ The Duke did an imitation of his mother’s breathy tones. ‘I felt such an urge to be with you.’
    Reggie nodded towards the door. ‘The Americans?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘But how did she know?’
    ‘At first I suspected Father Oliver of writing to her, but actually it was Charlotte. She was at Sutton Veney when the accident happened and felt that Mother ought to know.’
    ‘And how is Charlotte? I have hardly seen her since she married Beauchamp. Never cared for him much at school. Used to keep a diary full of his ghastly “observations”. Still can’t understand why Charlotte accepted him.’
    ‘Isn’t it obvious?’
    ‘But Beauchamp, of all people. I mean, he collects china .’
    ‘He loves beautiful things and Charlotte has always liked to be admired.’
    ‘But we all admired her, Ivo.’
    ‘But none of us had the means to display her properly.’ The Duke’s fingers, which had not stopped moving to their invisible rhythm, suddenly hit a fortissimo chord and the glasses rattled.
    There was another silence. Both men drained and refilled their glasses.
    ‘Quite a thing, finding Miss Cash like that,’ Reggie said, looking at his friend speculatively. ‘Something of a windfall, you might say.’
    Another rattle from the glasses. Finally Ivo said, ‘Well, I couldn’t very well leave her there. I had no idea that she came with all this…this stuff.’ Ivo picked up a silver coaster and sent it flying down the table. Both men watched it as it circled and slowly grew still.
    ‘Do you think she knew who the wood belonged to?’
    ‘I did wonder, especially after I met the mother, but I don’t think the daughter is a schemer. No, I think Miss Cash’s arrival at Lulworth was entirely accidental.’
    ‘And?’ Reggie let the monosyllable hang between them.
    ‘Oh, don’t be absurd. You’re as bad as my mother. Miss Cash is American…’ Ivo’s voice trailed away in disdain.
    ‘And spectacularly rich.’
    ‘As Mrs Cash never stops