The Cavendon Women by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page B

immediately. Only someone in politics and someone with access to the top brass at the War Office.
    Staring into the distance, she thought of those friends who were connected to politics. She knew Lucy Baldwin quite well, had been at her wedding to Stanley in 1892. But she could hardly go to the prime minister’s wife with this.
    Winston. Of course! Not only was he a good friend, he had just the right temperament to get involved. He would relish it, in fact. But how could she ask him at this particular time? Once again, Winston Churchill was in the middle of the fray, dealing with the coal strike for Baldwin. Perhaps—
    â€œExcuse me, Lady Gwendolyn,” Mrs. Pine said, intruding on Lady Gwendolyn’s thoughts, coming down the steps into the garden. “Lady Lavinia is here. She apologizes for being early for lunch.”
    Pushing herself to her feet, Lady Gwendolyn said, “That’s perfectly all right, Mrs. Pine. I was just about to come inside anyway.”
    *   *   *
    Lavinia was waiting for her in the parlor, and as she turned around to greet her aunt, Gwendolyn was struck by the tiredness etched on her niece’s face. “Are you feeling all right, Lavinia?” Lady Gwendolyn asked. “You look a little under the weather, my dear.”
    â€œI’m tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.” A faint smile lingered on Lavinia’s face as she followed her aunt across the room.
    Sitting down in a chair opposite her, Lavinia went on, “I’m afraid the unexpected news that I was going to attend a wedding on Sunday, my brother’s wedding at that, rather startled me. It also upset me.”
    Lady Gwendolyn simply nodded, made no comment. She had fully intended to chastise her niece over lunch today, for being rude to Charles yesterday. But now she changed her mind.
    As she studied Lavinia’s face, she realized there was something else radically wrong with her. In fact she thought her niece might be ill. She looked pale, wan, and her blond beauty had faded somewhat. I’d better not chide her at this moment, she decided. “We were all surprised, except for Miles and Daphne, who knew about it all along. But I’m happy for Charles, and delighted he is marrying Charlotte.”
    Staring at her aunt, raising a blond brow, Lavinia exclaimed, “I know you are! And I must admit, I was taken aback yesterday, when you voiced that opinion about this unfortunate union. He’s marrying out of his class. He’ll be ostracized.”
    â€œDon’t be ridiculous!” a voice exclaimed from the doorway.
    Lavinia’s sister glided into the parlor.
    Drawing to a standstill next to her aunt, Vanessa said, “I’m not late, am I, Aunt Gwendolyn? Hello to you, Lavinia. I’m afraid you’re going to have to join the multitudes who are cheering on the sidelines. Otherwise you’ll be the one who is ostracized … you’ll be sent to Coventry.” Bending over her aunt, she kissed her cheek, then seated herself on a nearby sofa.
    Vanessa couldn’t help thinking how elegant and distinguished Lady Gwendolyn looked. Long ago her abundant blond hair had turned to silver. Now it was pure white, and beautifully styled as usual. Her blue eyes sparkled brightly this morning, and there was no hint that she was eighty-six. She looked much younger and was agile of mind and body.
    Lady Gwendolyn smiled at Vanessa, glanced across at Lavinia. Two sisters entirely different in personality and character. She knew which one she had always preferred: Vanessa, liberal-minded, ready to accept people on face value, and in step with the times they were living in. The 1920s, not the 1800s.
    Lavinia, throwing her sister an icy look, asked, “And what about you, Vanessa? When are we about to hear that you are finally getting married?”
    Vanessa began to laugh. “Oh, I don’t know, I’m not sure I’m ready to do