Safe in Paradise

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1887-1

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1887Zarina Bryden stepped out of the carriage, which had brought her down from London and, because she was excited, she ran up the front steps.

The old butler, whom she had known since she was a child, was waiting for her in the hall.

“Welcome home, Miss Zarina,” he said. “It warms our hearts to have you back.”

“It’s wonderful to be back, Duncan,” she replied with enthusiasm.

She talked for a few minutes and then walked into the drawing room.

She looked round at the familiar pictures and furniture that she had not seen for over a year.

When her father and mother had been killed in a railway accident, she had been forced to leave home and go to London.

She had stayed there with her uncle and aunt. It was a sensible decision because she attended a Young Ladies Seminary in Knightsbridge.

It was a Finishing School for the daughters of aristocrats and while she was there she made many new friends.

When she came out as a debutante, she was invited to all the best parties and the most prestigious balls.

That she had been a success was not surprising.

She was not only beautiful, but also immensely rich.

Colonel Harold Bryden’s daughter and only child had inherited his considerable fortune.

She was also left an immense amount of money by her American Godmother.

When Zarina had been christened, her Godmother, who had been a close friend of her mother’s, had come to England.

Mrs. Vanderstein had Russian blood somewhere in her ancestry and she was very proud of it. Despite the fact that she had married twice, she had no children of her own and she had insisted that her Goddaughter should be named after her.

Therefore, when she eventually died, she had left everything she possessed to Zarina.

Society was at the moment very interested in American heiresses and so it was not surprising that Zarina, with such a huge bank balance, should attract a great deal of attention.

Young men who had begged her to become their wives were not entirely influenced by the mountain of dollars that she possessed or so they said.

There was no doubt that she was a beauty.

Now that the Season was over, Zarina had been determined to return to her house in the country.

To her it had been and always would be her home.

She had suggested returning before now, but her uncle and aunt had thought it a mistake to revive the misery that she had felt when she lost her father and mother so tragically.

Now, looking round the drawing room, it swept over her how much Bryden Hall meant to her.

She could see her mother sitting in a chair by the window.

It was where she sat when she read her the Fairytales that she had loved when she was a small girl.

It was through her father that she had enjoyed the books that filled The Hall’s library.

There he had described to her the many countries he had visited and how fascinating they were.

“As soon as you are older, my Poppet,” he had told her, “I will take you to Egypt to see the Pyramids and we will pass through the Suez Canal, which was opened only eighteen years ago and then on through the Red Sea.”

“Oh, let’s go now, Papa,” Zarina had begged him.

He had shaken his head.

“There is a great deal more for you to learn at home before you start exploring the world, my darling daughter. As I have told you so often, I like women who are intelligent like your mother and not empty-headed like so many Socialites.”

Zarina remembered how scathing he had been about the many beauties who were such a success in London.

She had learned, when she moved into the Social scene, that they were pursued by the Prince of Wales.

She had, of course, seen His Royal Highness looking exceedingly smart and very dashing.

Her contemporaries quickly told her that he was not interested in girls and she would never be invited to Marlborough House.

It had not troubled her in the slightest, but she realised that her Aunt Edith would have enjoyed every minute of being in the ‘Royal presence’.

Lady Bryden, however, knew quite a number of distinguished hostesses.

Zarina’s uncle, General Sir Alexander Bryden, had commanded the Household Cavalry, which made him persona grata in most Social circles.

Zarina found him rather awe-inspiring and yet, as he was her Guardian, she realised that if she was to do what she wanted, she had to gain his approval.

It had been hard work for her to persuade him that as soon as the Season was over she should go home.

“Your aunt has a great many things to do in London,” he had pointed out.

“Then I tell you what, Uncle Alexander,” she said, “you and I could go down to Bryden Hall for a few days. I must see what is happening there and, after all, now that Papa is dead, the people in the village as well as those who work on the estate are my people.”

She made it sound as if it was her duty, knowing that it was something that her uncle would appreciate.

He capitulated and said,

“Very well, Zarina, we will go down on Thursday and perhaps stay a week. I will try to persuade your aunt to join us, but I know that she has several committee meetings she must attend.”

Lady Bryden was very given to good works, especially since it brought her into contact with some of the most distinguished Peeresses and minor Royals.

Looking round the drawing room, Zarina felt her mother’s presence so strongly that it was almost as if she could talk to her.

She had known she would feel like this when she came home and at the same time, she hadd had no wish to avoid it.

She jumped when she heard Duncan’s voice saying,

“I thinks, Miss Zarina, you’d like your tea served in the library, as you used to do in the old days.”

“Of course I would, Duncan,” Zarina replied. “It’s very kind of you to think of it.”

She pulled off her hat and travelling-cloak and handed them to him.

“My lady’s maid is travelling in the brake with the General’s valet. I expect Mrs. Merryweather will show her round.”

“She’s waiting to do that, Miss Zarina,” Duncan replied, “and longing to see you, just as is cook and, of course, Jenkins in the stables.”

“I want to see everybody and everything,” Zarina smiled. “Oh, Duncan, it’s so wonderful to be home. I have missed you all, just as I miss – Papa and – Mama.”

The tears came into her eyes as she spoke about them.

Duncan, as he had done when she was a child, patted her on the shoulder and soothed her,

“Now don’t you upset yourself, Miss Zarina. The Master would want you to be brave and there’s a great many things for you to do now that you’ve come home.”

Zarina wiped away her tears.

They walked along the passage that led to the library.

It was a beautiful room with a brass balcony along one wall that was reached by a ladder of twisting wooden steps and Zarina had loved to climb up it when she was a child.

She thought that when she was alone she would climb up those steps again.

Tea was arranged in front of the fireplace and because it was summer, instead of a fire, fragrant flowers filled the hearth.

“I wonders how long the General’ll be, Miss Zarina?” Duncan asked. “If he’s not far behind, I’ll go and fetch another cup.”

“He is travelling by train and should be here at half-past-six, well in time for dinner,” Zarina replied. “Tell Jenkins to meet him at the Station.”

“Very good, Miss Zarina,” Duncan answered, “and will her Ladyship be accompanying him?”

“No. My aunt has to stay in London,” Zarina explained.

She smiled at the old man as she said,

“I would really prefer to be here on my own. I am sure Jenkins has kept the horses well exercised for me.”

“That he has, Miss Zarina! He’s been a-grooming them till their coats shine like satin!”

Zarina laughed.

She understood quite well that everything had been done to make her homecoming a happy one.

Although she had been in London, she had kept in touch with Mr. Bennett, who was in charge of the house and the estate.

Her father had trusted him and she knew that she could do the same.

He had written every week to tell her what was happening in the village and amongst her own people.

She wrote letters of congratulation to those who had a Golden Wedding and there were presents for any villagers who were married. She also sent congratulations to those who had a baby.

She had instructed Mr. Bennett to increase the wages of those who worked for her.

She could afford it and she wanted the estate to look as good as her father had made it, possibly even better.

Now, as she sat down to drink her tea, she asked Duncan questions about the people she remembered.

The Vicar had always been a favourite of hers ever since he had prepared her for her Confirmation.

“The Reverend’s just the same,” Duncan told her. “He’s got a bit older and his hair’s turning grey, but he be as kind as he always were.”

He paused before he added,

“He’s having a bit of trouble with his son, but I expect Mr. Bennett’ll tell you about that himself.”

“I know Mr. Walter had three different jobs last year,” Zarina answered. “Surely he has settled down by now?”

Duncan shook his head.

“One can never be sure with Mr. Walter.”

They talked about the Vicar’s family for a short while and then Zarina enquired about the doctor, his children and the people who kept the shop.

She was relieved to know they were all still there and there were very few changes.

By this time she had finished her tea and, leaving Duncan to clear away, she went up the stairs.

She could hear her lady’s maid and Mrs. Merryweather talking in her bedroom.

She passed the half-open door and went to the Master suite, where her father and mother had always slept.

She opened the door and was instantly aware of the scent of potpourri and lavender and once again she felt as if her parents were there, waiting for her.

The curtains were closed over the windows and she drew them back to let in the bright sunshine.

She looked at the big four-poster bed. How often she had climbed into it to lie beside her mother and beg for a story.

It was an agony to come back and not find her parents there.

Yet it was something that she had to do.

She felt that for too long she had neglected the people she employed, who loved her because she was her father’s daughter.

‘Whatever Uncle Alexander and Aunt Edith say,’ she told herself, ‘I am going to stay here at least during the autumn.’

It had been exciting to be in London, she would not deny that.

It was also a thrill to find that she was such a success.

At the same time it was impossible not to know when she entered a ballroom that the Dowagers were murmuring to each other,

“That is the heiress.”

The same thing occurred when she appeared at a party, a luncheon, or a Reception.

At first it made her feel self-conscious and, while she tried to ignore it, she could not help being aware that her money decidedly labelled her.

There was no escape from it.

Because she was intelligent, she told herself that it must not act as a barrier between her and other people.

She was always on guard when a young man led her out into the garden and without any prevarication began by saying,

“I love you, Zarina, and I want, more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, to make you my wife.”

They all sounded so sincere.

There was no doubt that each looked as if he were in love.

Equally Zarina had been told that the men in question were heavily in debt.

Or else they were the sons of distinguished aristocrats whose older brothers would inherit everything.

What was more, she was suspicious, although she tried not to be, of any proposal that came, she thought, on too brief an acquaintance.