provide some explanation.’ She hastily sketched out the scene she had observed, ending with, ‘It seemed clear to me at the time that the lady was hinting that she was with child. Sadly, it seems only too likely that her death must have resulted from some irregularity in her condition.’
After dinner, Charlotte and Lady Frampton spent a comfortable evening alone at Rowan Lodge, in the cream-panelled dining hall that was their favourite place for relaxing and gossiping. The old lady, who found the stairs difficult these days, used the former dining-room as a bedchamber, while Charlotte slept in lonely state upstairs with a further room set aside there for her own pursuits. The large downstairs drawing-room served for their few formal gatherings.
‘Well, I never,’ exclaimed the old lady, when Charlotte had told her the sorry tale of young Mrs Chant’s tragic end. ‘The poor young thing, I recollect thinking what a pretty creature she was, to be sure, all dressed in pink.’ She ruminated for a while then remembered something else, ‘Mind you, Char,’ she said, with a minatory nod. ‘You say nobody else was taken ill, but what about Captain Penbury, eh? ’e collapsed, didn’t ’e?’
Charlotte looked aghast. ‘Oh, Gran,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’d completely forgotten about that. For heaven’s sake don’t remind Lily or Barnard.’ Her brow puckered as she recalled the occasion. ‘But the captain wasn’t bilious though. It can’t have been anythinghe ate for he wasn’t ill at all, really. I think it was just a sharp attack of indigestion, although it did look like a heart attack at the time.’
‘So it was,’ nodded Lady Frampton. ‘Indigestion, I mean. Silly old fool, he tells everyone he meets about that old musket ball in ’is belly, and I’ve ’ad to shut my ears time and again when ’e drones on and on about his bloomin’ innards. What the devil did ’e think ’e was up to, stuffing himself with all that rich pastry, eh?’ She gave a complacent nod as she bragged, ‘My ’usband used to tell me, “’arriet, it’s a pleasure to see you eat.” It takes a stout constitution like what I’ve got to eat rich and ’earty, so it does.’
An odd memory struck Charlotte. ‘Didn’t Lady Granville complain that the captain had snatched a mince pie away from young Oz?’ She pictured the scene and nodded. ‘Yes, she did. She said nothing to the captain, but certainly she moaned about it to me, not that Oz gave two pins. He simply used the uproar at the captain’s collapse, to pile his plate high with sugar plums, and make his escape.’
Lady Frampton made a face. ‘That woman will make a milksop out of the boy, sure as eggs is eggs,’ she grunted. ‘As nice and sparky a lad as any you could wish to meet, but no, what must she decide but that he’s delicate. Delicate my eye! She’ll drive ’im demented one of these days, the way she ’overs over ’im, poor lad. Still, it’s not to be wondered at; all those hopes come to nothing and then at last, this precious boy arriving safe and sound. Well over forty, I believe, before she found ’erself in the family way, at what must ’ave been ’er last chance.
‘I’ve seen it before, you know. A “Change” baby he must ’ave been and her took poorly near the whole nine months, as is so often the way with older ladies. And ’is Lordship kept in London a lot of the time, seeing as ’ow ’e was in the Government at that time, though ’e’s retired now.’ The old lady shot her companion a malicious grin. ‘Not that ’e was up to much then, too busy running after the young ladies, so I ’eard. But there, as to Lady Granville, well, it was more than enough to turn ’er into a fussy old hen with ’er one chick, I’m sure, and who can blame her.’
Charlotte listened with only half an ear, though with a moment’s sympathy for Lady Granville; another memory was teasing her butnothing came to mind so she shrugged it off.
After dinner, Charlotte and Lady Frampton spent a comfortable evening alone at Rowan Lodge, in the cream-panelled dining hall that was their favourite place for relaxing and gossiping. The old lady, who found the stairs difficult these days, used the former dining-room as a bedchamber, while Charlotte slept in lonely state upstairs with a further room set aside there for her own pursuits. The large downstairs drawing-room served for their few formal gatherings.
‘Well, I never,’ exclaimed the old lady, when Charlotte had told her the sorry tale of young Mrs Chant’s tragic end. ‘The poor young thing, I recollect thinking what a pretty creature she was, to be sure, all dressed in pink.’ She ruminated for a while then remembered something else, ‘Mind you, Char,’ she said, with a minatory nod. ‘You say nobody else was taken ill, but what about Captain Penbury, eh? ’e collapsed, didn’t ’e?’
Charlotte looked aghast. ‘Oh, Gran,’ she exclaimed. ‘I’d completely forgotten about that. For heaven’s sake don’t remind Lily or Barnard.’ Her brow puckered as she recalled the occasion. ‘But the captain wasn’t bilious though. It can’t have been anythinghe ate for he wasn’t ill at all, really. I think it was just a sharp attack of indigestion, although it did look like a heart attack at the time.’
‘So it was,’ nodded Lady Frampton. ‘Indigestion, I mean. Silly old fool, he tells everyone he meets about that old musket ball in ’is belly, and I’ve ’ad to shut my ears time and again when ’e drones on and on about his bloomin’ innards. What the devil did ’e think ’e was up to, stuffing himself with all that rich pastry, eh?’ She gave a complacent nod as she bragged, ‘My ’usband used to tell me, “’arriet, it’s a pleasure to see you eat.” It takes a stout constitution like what I’ve got to eat rich and ’earty, so it does.’
An odd memory struck Charlotte. ‘Didn’t Lady Granville complain that the captain had snatched a mince pie away from young Oz?’ She pictured the scene and nodded. ‘Yes, she did. She said nothing to the captain, but certainly she moaned about it to me, not that Oz gave two pins. He simply used the uproar at the captain’s collapse, to pile his plate high with sugar plums, and make his escape.’
Lady Frampton made a face. ‘That woman will make a milksop out of the boy, sure as eggs is eggs,’ she grunted. ‘As nice and sparky a lad as any you could wish to meet, but no, what must she decide but that he’s delicate. Delicate my eye! She’ll drive ’im demented one of these days, the way she ’overs over ’im, poor lad. Still, it’s not to be wondered at; all those hopes come to nothing and then at last, this precious boy arriving safe and sound. Well over forty, I believe, before she found ’erself in the family way, at what must ’ave been ’er last chance.
‘I’ve seen it before, you know. A “Change” baby he must ’ave been and her took poorly near the whole nine months, as is so often the way with older ladies. And ’is Lordship kept in London a lot of the time, seeing as ’ow ’e was in the Government at that time, though ’e’s retired now.’ The old lady shot her companion a malicious grin. ‘Not that ’e was up to much then, too busy running after the young ladies, so I ’eard. But there, as to Lady Granville, well, it was more than enough to turn ’er into a fussy old hen with ’er one chick, I’m sure, and who can blame her.’
Charlotte listened with only half an ear, though with a moment’s sympathy for Lady Granville; another memory was teasing her butnothing came to mind so she shrugged it off.
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