Page 125 of The Christmas Retreat
I didn’t go back with him to Triskelion for lunch, but I was present that evening at dinner.
Miss Madoc, of course, was not, and I felt very uneasy about her, having given the matter some thought during the afternoon.
If she truly was in love with the young man, then I was not as sure as my friend that she would accept his offer of marriage – and whatever he said, his first action as Miss Madoc’s guardian should have been to speak to Mr Vane and find out if he had serious intentions.
Caradoc had always been the most forceful and decisive character of the two of us, since we had been at school together, and usually I was happy to follow his lead. But now I really felt that in his jealous rage he might have mistaken the situation, and someone should speak on Miss Madoc’s behalf.
So, I determined that I would follow him out on to the terrace after dinner, when he went to smoke his habitual cigar, and put my opinions forward, even though I was sure they would not be well received.
I found the conversation over the dinner table rather difficult. No sooner had we sat down than Mrs Fry demanded to know if I was aware of Miss Madoc’s fall from grace and that Caradoc was now insisting, from misplaced chivalry, that he must marry her!
I admitted that I did indeed know and when she went on to say Caradoc should instead go down to the inn in St Melangell and ask the young man his intentions, I secretly agreed with her.
Bea, too, said, ‘Yes, Papa, because they might be in love and want to marry!’
Caradoc glared at her and demanded to know what she knew of the matter, to which she replied, innocently, ‘Nothing,’ and then fell silent.
Miss Madoc was to remain locked in her room until the Vanes’ departure the following morning, and Mrs Fry had sent a note to the inn telling them that the girl was indisposed and would be unable to bid them farewell.
After a silence that lasted some time, Bea remarked that if her papa married Arwen, she would find herself unmarried and with a stepmother younger than herself, which was quite ridiculous!
Caradoc replied, with a look at me that made me very uncomfortable, that that was in her own hands, and she relapsed into sulky silence again.
After dinner Caradoc went up to the terrace over the ballroom to smoke his cigar and I thought I would drink a cup of coffee with the ladies before following him. However, Miss Caradoc had slipped away, so after suffering Mrs Fry’s circular conversation for a few minutes, I made my excuses and left her.
I felt some trepidation as I went upstairs and along the corridor to the door out on to the terrace, rehearsing the arguments I would present to Caradoc on Miss Madoc’s behalf.
Having thought everything over, it seemed increasingly likely to me that he had mistaken Miss Madoc’s earlyadmiration and pleasure in his company for something warmer. Then later, when she had realized the nature of his feelings for her, she’d shown very clearly that they were unwelcome to her. Perhaps, even, she had already been in love with this young man when she had arrived at Triskelion.
Another unwelcome idea had also raised its head: that her shock and distress on the cliff path was not due to the young man’s attentions but caused by Caradoc flying into a jealous rage!
It was with a heavy heart and no real expectation of changing Caradoc’s mind that I pushed open the door and stepped out on to the terrace.
It was a perfect late summer’s evening and, although dusk was falling fast, light enough to see clearly that Caradoc was not alone but engaged in some kind of argument with Bea.
I stopped, unnoticed by either of them, gripped by an ungentlemanly curiosity, and I will relate the conversation I overheard as accurately as possible.
Bea was again demanding to know why her papa would never allow her to go to London and accused him of being a miser, saying she knew very well that besides being wealthy himself, her mama had settled money on any future children before her marriage.
‘It’s clearly time I told you of my true financial position and also disabused your mind of the notion you are a great heiress,’ Caradoc said. ‘Your mama had little money at the time of our marriage, although she unexpectedly came into a large inheritance some months later – and that money came to me after her death.’
I, of course, already knew this.
I could see it came as a great shock to Bea, but then sherallied and said, ‘Even if I have little fortune of my own, you must be very wealthy, Papa, and needn’t be so mean as to deny me so much as a visit to my friend!’
I saw him turn and throw the stub of his cigar over the low balustrade, a glowing arc of red, before replying.
‘Again, I am afraid you are doomed to disappointment, Bea, for due to a series of unfortunate investments, I have lost most of my money and have invested the bulk of what remains into my new business venture with Mr Jones. What you call my miserliness is, in fact, borne of necessity.’
She was stunned into silence by this.
He continued: ‘It seemed pointless spending what little remained on giving you a London season when you had suitors here: I didn’t think the Mark Prynne boy-and-girl affair would come to anything, but you would do well to consider poor Hugh, who is not only devoted to you, but has an income of his own besides his share in the pottery business.’
‘Marry Mr Jones …’ faltered Bea, who had turned very pale and appeared to be struggling to take in the import of what he had said.
While I knew I should slip quietly away at this point, yet I remained there, unseen and transfixed.
‘Also, Bea,’ Caradoc continued, ‘my paintings have been paying the bills the last few years and must continue to do so until my new business venture with Hugh prospers. But for that, I need Arwen, a good enough reason to marry her, even if I did not do so for any other.’
