Love or Duty Page 13

  It was so unlike Dora to give praise that Louise gave an involuntary smile and sat down, taking her stepmother’s hand. ‘I only did what any daughter would do,’ she said, pushing aside the memory of that barbed reminder that she was only a stepdaughter. Besides, she’d done it for her father, not Dora.

  ‘Nevertheless, dear, I’m grateful.’ The older woman leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, a little sigh escaping her lips. ‘I suppose you’ll be going back to London now,’ she said. ‘Sarah told me you’d been offered a permanent job at the theatre.’ She sighed again. ‘I’ll be all alone then – Sarah off to America, you in London…. Well, you young people have your own lives to live I suppose.’

  Guilt smote Louise and for the first time she noticed the threads of grey in the blonde hair, the lines around her mouth, the veins standing out on her hands. Dora had always seemed young for her age, and had worked hard at keeping the years at bay. Now, faced with the threat of a lonely future, she seemed to have aged overnight. I’m not the only one grieving, Louise realized.

  She patted Dora’s hand. ‘I’ll stay as long as you need me,’ she said. ‘Go to sleep now; we’ll talk in the morning.’

  As she went along the passage to her room, Louise wondered what she’d let herself in for. She undressed and got into bed, firmly telling herself that the theatre job had probably already gone to someone else. Besides, if she stayed in Holton, there’d be plenty to keep her busy now that the country was at war. She would volunteer to help at the children’s hospital she decided, thrusting aside the thought that it might be an opportunity to see more of Andrew Tate. He was sure to come down from London now and then to oversee his project.

  But, as she fell asleep, it was James Spencer who crept into her thoughts. Why had he been so nice to her? Had he really changed that much?

  When Andrew had said goodbye to his uncle, who was anxious to get back for evening surgery, he’d walked slowly down towards the seafront. He knew he ought to get back to the hospital but he needed time to think.

  He walked along the esplanade, remembering earlier visits to Holton – in particular that windy day when he’d bumped into the Charlton sisters. Most men would have gone for the lively, pretty Sarah, but from the moment he’d first seen her it was Louise who had captured his heart. He’d been so relieved when he heard that she had turned down the chance to go to Africa. Now, it seemed someone else was courting her and he cursed his reserve and the fear of rejection that had stopped him making his feelings known. He’d been determined to speak to her the next time he came to Holton but her father’s funeral was hardly the place to suggest a date.

  Supervising the removal of the children from the East End clinic had been his first visit to Holton in over a year. He’d read in the newspaper that Sarah had sailed on the Queen Mary the day before and when his uncle greeted him with the news of Stanley Charlton’s death, his first thought had been one of sadness that someone he liked and respected had died with his daughters both out of reach. But Uncle George had said Louise was with him when he was taken ill.

  ‘You told me she was working in the theatre,’ Andrew had said, remembering how he’d felt when he’d heard. If only he’d known when he’d gone to the show a few weeks ago. Now Uncle George was telling him she was back in Holton.

  ‘She’ll be going back to London after the funeral I suppose?’ he asked.

  ‘Dora Charlton wants her to stay here. Now she hasn’t got Stanley to run around after her….’

  ‘I hope she doesn’t let herself be talked into staying.’

  George Tate’s next words hit him like a physical blow. ‘She only went to London to be near her sister. I think she might stay – at least I’m sure young James Spencer is hoping she will.’

  ‘How does she feel about that?’

  ‘How would I know?’ George asked with a grin. ‘You’d better ask her yourself.’

  But Andrew hadn’t been able to overcome his natural reserve and had put off calling at Steyne House. His uncle had gone on to say that Dora would be pleased if a match between James and Louise meant keeping Charlton and Spencer in the family.

  He hadn’t seen Louise until today. Now, as he went down the steps onto the beach, he re-played in his mind the scene he’d witnessed in the hall at Steyne House. James and Louise had seemed more than friendly.

  He picked up a pebble, throwing it violently into the heaving surf. Another followed it with equal force. With an angry exclamation, he kicked at a tangle of seaweed and a short laugh escaped his lips. How was it that where his work was concerned he exuded confidence, but when it came to falling in love…?

  When Louise woke early the next morning she regretted her hasty promise to stay in Holton. She and her stepmother had never really got on and, without her father there to keep the peace, she knew she’d find it hard to bite her tongue. But Father had made her promise to take care of Dora and she couldn’t go back on her word.

  Besides, she’d turned down the theatre job and given up the lodgings she’d shared with Sarah. And could she really abandon Dora so soon after her loss? Despite her selfishness, she’d been really fond of Stanley as well as depending on him for everything. She wasn’t the sort of woman who would manage on her own.

  With a sigh, Louise got dressed and went downstairs to find that Polly had already prepared Dora’s breakfast tray. ‘I’ll take it up,’ she offered. Poor Polly had enough to do. Louise hadn’t realized quite how hard the girl worked and she wondered if perhaps she should engage someone to help her.

  Upstairs, Dora was sitting up in bed, her face gleaming with cold cream, a lacy bed jacket round her shoulders. Louise set the tray down and drew the curtains, letting in a burst of sunshine. She looked out of the window towards the beach and the sparkling sea. ‘It’s a lovely morning, Mother. Perhaps we’ll go out for a little walk later on.’

  Dora put her hand to her chest. ‘I couldn’t possibly go out. I feel much too weak. I’ve been awake all night with dreadful palpitations.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I had a restless night, too. It’s understandable after what we’ve been through lately.’ Louise poured the tea and set the tray across Dora’s knees. ‘Here’s your breakfast. You’ll feel better for something to eat.’

  ‘I don’t think I can….’

  ‘You must keep your strength up.’ Louise hated speaking in platitudes when what she really wanted to do was give her stepmother a good shaking. Dora wasn’t the only one grieving. She hadn’t once expressed any sympathy for Louise or for her own daughter and how she must be feeling after getting the telegram on board the Queen Mary.

  Poor Sarah, she thought. What a shock for her. And how hard it must be, knowing she couldn’t get back to England for the funeral. But what would be the point of her coming back now?

  Steeling herself to hide her impatience with Dora, she said, ‘Try to eat a little, Mother.’

  As she left the room Dora picked up a piece of toast and began to nibble at it. But when Polly brought the tray down later, hardly anything had been touched.

  Louise was sitting at the kitchen table making a shopping list and she looked up to ask, ‘Do you always take Mother a breakfast tray?’

  Polly looked surprised. ‘Yes, the master always said he liked a bit of quiet in the mornings to read his paper.’ She gave a little sob. ‘I used to serve him in the dining room. The mistress never came down till after he’d left for the office.’

  Louise remembered that they’d always sat down to breakfast as a family before she and Sarah had gone to live in London. There had been a lot of changes since then. She resolved that if she were going to stay, things would have to change even more. When she was a child they’d had Cookie and a daily woman as well as Polly. It was too much to expect one person to look after this big house and run about after its inhabitants as well. Well, for a start there’ll be no more running up and down stairs with trays, she resolved.

  As she finished her breakfast, Louise began t
o make plans. Before she could do anything about engaging extra help in the house she would have to investigate their financial situation. Her father had been adamant that they could not replace Cookie after her accident and they had let the gardener go as well, but that had been during the slump. There’d also been a few problems after the fire but Louise was sure that business had improved recently. She wished now she’d listened more carefully when David Webster was explaining the ramifications of her father’s will. She would have to make an appointment to see him. But first she’d go to the office and speak to Miss Baines or James Spencer.

  She walked briskly through the town to the offices of Charlton and Spencer, barely acknowledging the greetings and condolences of the many people who had known her father. She walked up the steps and pushed open the door to the foyer, expecting see Miss Baines at her usual post. Instead, it was James who looked up from opening the mail that was piled on the secretary’s desk.

  ‘Miss Charlton – Louise – I didn’t expect to see you today.’ He stood up and came towards her, taking her hands and leading her to one of the comfortable chairs set in the bay window. ‘What can I do for you?’ His tone was solicitous and he patted her hand.

  The gesture was too much for Louise and the tensions of the past few days erupted in a storm of tears. She snatched the handkerchief James offered her and tried to apologize, sniffing and shaking her head. ‘It was just – being here. I suddenly realized I’d never see Father again.’ She burst into tears again.

  Gently, James put his arm round her, easing her out of the chair and leading her into her father’s old office. ‘Sit here for a minute. I’ll get you a drink of water.’

  He left her alone and she tried to compose herself, taking a few shaky breaths and wiping her eyes. She straightened her shoulders and stood up, taking a few paces around the room, looking at the framed photographs on the walls – buildings her father had designed, a picture of him with William Spencer and the mayor. Seeing his beloved face smiling down at her almost brought tears once more. But she was distracted by the sound of raised voices from the outer office.

  When James returned, his face was red and his voice tight. ‘That woman’s getting too big for her boots. I kept telling your father he was giving her too much responsibility. She’s just a secretary, here to take orders.’

  Louise wondered what the inoffensive Miss Baines could have done to make James so angry. ‘My father relied on her a great deal, especially after your father died,’ she said.

  ‘But he didn’t need to when I took on my father’s share of the work.’ He paced the room, muttering. ‘I can’t have her poking her nose into private papers.’ He stopped abruptly and caught Louise’s eye. ‘Client confidentiality, you know,’ he said.

  ‘I’m sure Miss Baines is very discreet.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I probably overreacted. Things have been getting on top of me since your father….’

  Louise put her hand on his arm. ‘I understand. That’s why I’m here.’

  ‘What do you mean? I thought you’d come in to find out where you stand – with money and so.’ He gave a little cough. ‘I know from what the solicitor said yesterday that there are a few legal things to sort out as your father hadn’t made a new will after the fire.’

  Louise vaguely remembered something being said but she brushed it aside. ‘I meant that I can help with the business. There must be something I can do. Before I went to London, Father used to talk to me about his projects. He wanted me to work with him but Mother was against it. I’m old enough to make my own decisions now.’

  James shook his head. ‘I think Mrs Charlton was right. Besides, you don’t have any secretarial qualifications do you?’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking of being a secretary.’ Louise was indignant. She might not be a qualified architect or surveyor but she felt she knew just as much about property and estate agency as James did.

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…. It’s just that it’s a bit soon to be making decisions like that. Besides, your stepmother probably needs you more than the business does right now, especially with your sister being so far away.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Louise nodded slowly.

  James smiled. ‘Let’s not think about work right now. I’ll take you out to lunch. They do a good roast at the Esplanade Hotel.’

  Chapter Twelve

  When Louise returned to Steyne House, she found Polly in tears once more.

  ‘Oh, Miss Louise, I didn’t know what to do. The mistress was in such a state. I didn’t know when you’d be back so I phoned Dr Tate.’ She sniffed. ‘He’s still here.’

  Louise patted Polly’s arm. ‘You did the right thing,’ she said, before running up the stairs two at a time.

  On the landing she was brought up short as Andrew Tate came out of her stepmother’s bedroom. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, feeling the familiar flush creeping over her face.

  ‘Uncle George was out on a call so….’

  ‘I thought you’d gone back to London.’ Louise tried to calm her racing heart. She hadn’t expected to run into Andrew again so soon. ‘Is my stepmother all right?’ she asked.

  ‘She just got herself in a bit of a state. She’s finding it hard to cope with your father’s death,’ he said.

  So am I, thought Louise, but I don’t carry on like that. She bit her lip, ashamed of her uncharitable thoughts. ‘Are you sure that’s all it is?’

  Andrew smiled reassuringly. ‘Positive. She mentioned palpitations and she’s sure there’s something wrong with her heart. But, really, it’s just the stress of the past week. She’ll be all right.’

  ‘I should go and see her,’ Louise said.

  ‘Leave her – I’ve given her a sedative. A good sleep will do her good.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have left her. I knew she wasn’t feeling herself.’

  ‘Nonsense, you have to go out some time.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to be gone so long. But James took me to lunch and we lingered over our coffee. There was so much to talk about.’

  ‘I understand. You mustn’t feel guilty for enjoying yourself.’

  Louise wanted to tell him it had been more of a business meeting than enjoyment. But before she could speak he had hurried downstairs and grabbed his hat from the hallstand.

  ‘I have to go back to London tomorrow but if you’re worried, my uncle will call round any time,’ he said.

  Louise thanked him and let him out of the front door. He stood on the step for a moment looking towards the sea. ‘It’s hard to believe we’re really at war on such a lovely day. I fear this is just the lull before the storm, though. It’s a good job we managed to get those children out of London.’

  ‘You really think it will be bad then?’

  Andrew shrugged. ‘Let’s hope we’re being pessimistic. And if nothing else happens, at least this sea air will do wonders for those poor children.’

  ‘That’s true. I love being by the sea.’

  ‘You’re going to stay then?’

  Louise nodded.

  He walked away and, as she watched him go, she wished she were returning to London too. There was nothing here for her. James had made it quite clear that he didn’t want her interfering in the business. If she’d accepted Phil’s offer of a job in the theatre, she could have returned for her father’s funeral and then gone straight back – away from her stepmother’s selfish demands and the worry of running the house.

  Much as she loved the little seaside town where she’d been born, she realized that, in coming back for good, she was giving up any chance she might have had of the freedom to live her own life.

  Polly had calmed down by the time Louise joined her in the kitchen. She sat the maid down at the scrubbed table and spoke firmly. ‘I know you get upset when Mother’s in one of her states, but you must be strong and not let her bully you.’

  ‘But she’s the mistress. I have to do what she says.’

  ‘No, Polly, yo
u don’t have to run up and down with trays and cater to her every whim. Dr Tate says she’s not really ill and it will do her good to get up and come downstairs. She can’t expect you to run around after her. You have enough to do.’

  ‘If you’re sure, Miss.’

  ‘I am. From now on, you take your orders from me.’ Louise gave a little laugh. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t be giving orders as such. We’ll share the work.’

  Polly nodded and managed a tentative smile. ‘It’ll be like when you were a little girl, helping me and Cookie in the kitchen, making cakes and biscuits.’

  Louise nodded. ‘Those were happy days, weren’t they?’ Before Dora came into our lives she added silently. She felt a lump in her throat and got up to fill the kettle.

  She turned to Polly. ‘What brought it on?’ she asked, referring to her stepmother’s attack of hysteria. ‘She was perfectly all right when I went out.’

  ‘Well, she wasn’t best pleased when I told her you’d gone to your father’s office. She said it was nothing to do with you and Mr James could manage perfectly well.’

  ‘Was that all?’

  Polly shook her head. ‘She’d just got dressed and come down when that Mrs Bennett turned up. She had one of those clipboard things and a list as long as your arm and said she needed to see Mrs Charlton about war work. So I showed her in and went to get some tea.’

  ‘I would have thought Mother would be pleased to help.’ Louise knew Dora loved to be involved in church committees and charities.

  ‘Well, of course, I didn’t hear everything but when I came back with the tea Mrs Bennett said something about it being Mrs Charlton’s duty to do everything she could for the war effort and she hadn’t asked before because of her recent bereavement.’

  ‘What did she want Mother to do?’

  ‘Take in some of those poor little kiddies from London. Mrs Bennett is what they call a billeting officer. She has to find places for them to stay.’