Turning to me, she said, “And you and your young man are to be special guests, I’m told.” Beth had introduced me to Mrs. Rivers when we had lunch at the inn one afternoon. “You’ll be dining with the aristocracy, my dear. I saw Lord and Lady Bramfield and their son yesterday and Sir John Heslip. And if Lady Viola is feeling up to it, you’ll have a countess as a guest. But she really is getting on in years.” Seeing her husband waving at her, she said, “Oh, he’ll be after me for running on with so many customers calling for their tea, but it was lovely to see you.”
“Is Lord Bramfield the same person as Ginger Bramfield?” I asked after Mrs. Rivers left.
Michael looked surprised. “How do you know that?”
I didn’t think I was telling tales out of school when I told him that his mother had used Ginger to make his father jealous so that he would agree to marry her. This was all news to Michael.
“It must be a family trait. If you want something badly enough, you go after it.” After being quiet for a moment, he said, “Look at James and Angela. He stayed in that dusty village in Italy running errands for Angela’s father for what, five or six months, before they could marry. He told me he didn’t have a beer for three months until a mate brought a case down from Germany. Now that’s true love.”
I was trying not to compare James’s willingness to do whatever it took to win Angela with Rob’s decision that marriage should not even be considered until everything was just so.
Arriving back at the house, we could see James’s Jaguar, courtesy of the Lacey Trust Fund, in the driveway. Beth had told me at breakfast that Ellen Manning, the mother of Trevor’s daughter, as well as Beth’s cousins, the Alcotts, were staying at Montclair because there was no room at the inn in Crofton. It was all very exciting. The clans were gathering for a big celebration, and Rob and I would be at the center of it.
Chapter 28
On the night of the gala, I kept thinking about Elizabeth Bennet and how she felt when she was getting dressed for the ball at Netherfield Hall. She was wearing her favorite ivory-colored dress, and Jane had put a wreath of white flowers in Lizzy’s hair. Beth had chosen my gown, a green dress with an accentuated bodice that complemented my dark hair and blue eyes. While Beth was putting up my hair, she told me stories of the Harvest Festival Balls of her youth, and it brought back wonderful memories of her parents and brothers.
Beth, who looked good in gardening clothes, was truly elegant in a simple black dress with a sequined jacket. She wore a beautiful pearl choker, a gift from her father to her mother on their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Extending her hand, she showed me the ruby ring Will Lacey had given to Elizabeth Garrison when they had become engaged. She must have fallen out of her chair when she saw that rock.
Once Angela was ready, Beth said we should go downstairs and meet our dates. I thought Rob was very handsome in a suit, but when he met me at the bottom of the stairs in his white tie and tuxedo, I could hardly believe this man was waiting to take Maggie Joyce from Minooka to the ball.
“You look beautiful,” I told him, and he laughed and took my hand and kissed it. When we went into the living room, there stood the three Crowell men, who were as handsome a trio as I had ever seen. Putting out his cigarette, Jack said, “Let’s get this show on the road, or the guests will be there before us.”
All during the war years, the windows at Montclair had been covered with blackout curtains. But not tonight. Driving up to the mansion, I could easily imagine how it appeared to Elizabeth Garrison when she first saw Montclair more than one hundred fifty years earlier. Numerous torches lined the path to the entrance, and men dressed in livery were there to help ladies out of their cars, just as Jack had done forty years earlier. Inside, dozens of candelabra created the warm glow of a late summer’s eve, while shadows from the wrought iron staircases cast intricate lace patterns on the walls.
This was to be a night of surprises, but I didn’t think there would be a bigger one than the sight of Mrs. Caton, standing in the foyer, straightening Freddie’s tie. When Freddie had seen all that Mrs. Caton had done to make Montclair shine, he had gone into the village and borrowed a jacket and tie from the owner of the Hare and Hound. This might possibly be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
As Beth and I had planned, I asked Jack, James, and Michael to stand with Rob and me at the bottom of the staircase. Beth came down the stairs, just as she had done in 1909, when the sight of her had stopped Jack in his tracks. Their marriage had taken some real blows, but this was true love. He met her at the bottom of the stairs and whispered to her, “My beautiful bride.” Both James and Michael nodded their heads, recognizing they were witnessing something very special. The evening was getting off to a very good start.
Beth had cast a wide net when she had sent out her invitations. My first introduction was to Constance Cornwallis-West, the Duchess of Westminster, and her husband, Captain Fitzpatrick Lewes. During The Great War, the Duchess had funded her own hospital in an abandoned casino in Le Toquet, France, and Beth had been a VAD assigned to her hospital. Following on the heels of the Duchess were Lord and Lady Alcott, and their three daughters, Lily, Iris, and Violet, and their spouses, and Miss Lettie Blessing, Beth’s former lady’s maid, who was dressed in her Sunday best. I met Lord and Lady Bramfield and Ellen Manning and her husband, Scott. Beth had to shout when she introduced me to a cadaverous Viscount Sterling, who looked like Ichabod Crane. He was escorting his beautiful third wife, Althea, who was at least twenty-five years his junior. Rob showed real excitement when he was introduced to Col. Mitchell Armstrong of Bomber Command who flew forty-two missions over Germany.
Rob and I had added a few names to the guest list, and I was so happy to see Rob’s flat mate, Ken Burroughs, and my boss, Don Milne, and his date. Don had taken the same train up from London with Pamela and her husband.
“My mum’s with the baby, and I’m the only one who can feed her,” Pamela said, laughing. “If I stay too long, I’ll start leaking, but I wasn’t going to miss this for neither love nor money.”
Don and Ellen Caton were joined by Don’s son, Stephen, an Annapolis graduate, who had been critically wounded when the destroyer, the USS Hammann, had been sunk in the Battle of Midway in June 1942. Mr. Caton had said that when he first saw Stephen at Bethesda Medical Center in Maryland, he thought his son was lost to him, but Stephen had fought back and returned to active duty before the Japanese surrendered in August 1945.
Another surprise was meeting Mrs. Ferguson, the wife of Montclair’s grouchy gardener. Mr. Ferguson hadn’t married until he was in his forties, and when he did, he shocked the village of Crofton by marrying Linda McDonnell, the daughter of a baronet, who shared his love of gardening. They lived in one of the apartments over the garages so they would be close to the gardens.
I was trying to remember all the stories Beth was telling me as the guests went through the receiving line because I knew that I would never see them again, and I was trying to take a snapshot of each person as they went by.
While the Crowells, the Catons, Rob, and I were meeting the guests, the Crowell sons were under strict instructions from their mother to make sure all the visitors were enjoying themselves. While James Crowell was circulating around the room, pulling at his starched collar all the while, most of the men thought it was their duty to make sure that his wife, who was wearing an ivory sheath that made her look like a Roman goddess, didn’t lack for company. Angela’s English was limited to a handful of stock phrases, but no one seemed to care.