The Queen Wins

CHAPTER ONE 1887-1

CHAPTER ONE

1887Tarena walked round the garden thinking just how lovely the flowers were and how much she loved living in the pretty little Vicarage in Oxfordshire.

She knew how pleased her uncle would be to see the flamboyant blooms when he returned from the North.

She was sure, as the weather had been bad, that he would have found few flowers to enjoy in Northumberland and so he would be thrilled to be back in Oxfordshire again where the sun was shining brightly.

She wondered if his father, the Earl of Grandbrooke was still alive and she was expecting a letter from him later in the day telling her the latest news.

The Honourable the Reverend Richard Brooke was the younger son of the tenth Earl of Grandbrooke.

As was traditional his elder brother had gone into the Army and Richard was promised one of the Parishes on the great estate belonging to his father.

First he had studied at Oxford to obtain his degree and then he was ordained into the Church. He had studied theology and had passed his examinations with First Class Honours.

Soon after his ordination and he had started work in his Parish in Northumberland, the Bishop had asked him to return to Oxford.

He felt that this summons was somewhat unfair to the Parishioners on the estate, but it was too flattering an invitation to refuse.

Richard Brooke soon proved himself outstanding amongst the Parish Priests of the Oxford Diocese.

Ever since Tarena was a small child, her mother having died when she was only five, she had lived with her uncle.

She found him a wonderful substitute for the father she could not remember.

She had made many good friends in Oxford and the students spoilt her every time they came to the Vicarage to see her uncle.

At eighteen years old she was afraid that, if the Earl of Grandbrooke died, they would have to go and live in the North.

There had, of course, been an older uncle between the Earl and her Uncle Richard. He was the Viscount, who was very handsome and much sought after. However, as a soldier he was sent to fight abroad and sadly lost his life in the Crimean War.

This had turned everything topsy-turvy.

It meant that, when the old Earl died and her Uncle Richard succeeded to the Earldom, he would undoubtedly have to abandon his career in the Church.

He would then have to look after the great ancestral home with its large estate in Northumberland that had been in the possession of the Grandbrookes for three centuries.

Tarena recognised that, as all her friends were in Oxford, she had no wish to go and live in the North.

She had indeed enjoyed visiting the ancestral home at Christmas, but last year the Earl had been in poor health and the party had not been as entertaining as it had been in previous years.

She could not envisage herself and her uncle being isolated there. They would be far too far away from all the interests they had in the South and would have to entertain considerably more than they did at present.

In point of fact, as she had learnt when she stayed at Grandbrooke Hall, any distinguished persons going to Northumberland expected to be invited by the Earl as a guest and parties had to be given for them.

Tarena thought even though she enjoyed them, it would be tedious to have to entertain continually.

When she looked back, she realised that most of the guests had been old. She was always the youngest and most often the only female present.

‘I just could not bear to leave you,’ she sighed to the flowers she had loved ever since she could remember.

Then, as she walked back to the house, she thought how cosy and comfortable they were in the Vicarage.

Her uncle had always been so kind to her and she realised how much he had adored his sister who was her mother.

Elizabeth had been the only daughter of the Earl.

She had often confessed that she had been spoilt by him and her brothers ever since she had been born.

It was a genuine tragedy to Tarena that she could not remember her mother very clearly.

She knew she had been soft, sweet and gentle and had cuddled her long after she was a baby and had sung her to sleep in a delightful soothing voice.

Tarena could hardly remember her father either.

He had been, she reckoned, very strong and tall and always carried her on his shoulders round the garden.

How and when he had died she could never quite find out and whenever she wanted to talk about him, her uncle changed the subject.

She found instead that they were talking about her mother and how pretty she had been when she was her age.

‘Uncle Richard ought to be back by now,’ Tarena mused.

She turned at the end of the garden to walk towards the house and then to her unbounded joy she saw him at the garden door.

With a little cry she ran towards him with her arms outstretched.

“You are back! You are back, Uncle Richard!” she exclaimed. “I have been so worried because I had not heard from you.”

He kissed her most affectionately on both cheeks and then he suggested,

“Let’s go into my study. I have a great deal to tell you.”

Although his hair was turning a little grey and there were lines under his eyes, which had not been there a few years ago, he was still one of the best-looking men Tarena had ever seen – certainly the most handsome Cleric in the whole of Oxford.

They went into his comfortable study, which was filled with books that Tarena loved almost as much as she loved the garden.

She read avidly on every subject and her uncle was not so mean as to deprive her of the modern novels that were just becoming popular in the country.

In fact his library was an example, Tarena believed, to every other Clergyman to keep up with the times, as it would help them to understand what the younger members of their congregation were thinking and dreaming about.

“Have you had a difficult time, Uncle Richard?” Tarena asked, as he closed the door behind them.

“As I expect you may have guessed, my father has died,” he replied. “I have to take his place as the Head of the family and the Master of Grandbrooke Hall.”

Tarena sighed.

“Do we really have to leave Oxford and go North?” she asked him with a feeling of foreboding in her voice.

“I am afraid that I will have to,” the new Earl of Grandbrooke answered her. “But there is something else I want to talk to you about.”

Tarena looked at him in surprise.

He sat down in his favourite chair and she sat near him on one of the satin stools in front of the fireplace.

“First,” her uncle began, “I must tell you that I am very glad I did not take you North with me. My father died soon after I arrived and it was not only very upsetting for all the staff, who had been with him for many years, but also for our many relations.”

He sighed before he went on,

“They had no idea that he was so seriously ill, but they arrived, as you can imagine, almost every hour from every part of the country.”

He spoke slowly and quietly.

Tarena knew that he had been extremely fond of his father and his death must have been a terrible shock.

In fact the old Earl had not yet reached the age of seventy and, although he had been in ill health for some time, no one had thought it was really serious.

Her uncle had stopped speaking and Tarena said in a small voice,

“So I suppose we will have to leave here where we have been so happy.”

“I most certainly have to leave, but I want to talk to you, Tarena, about yourself and your father.”

“My father?” Tarena exclaimed in astonishment. “But you have always told me so very little about him.”

“What I have to tell you now is something that you were too young to understand in the past and I would not have told you even now if the Marquis of Salisbury had not been present at my father’s funeral.”

Tarena was listening to him wide-eyed.

She just could not understand why the Marquis of Salisbury, the then Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, of whom she had often heard, had any connection in any way with her father.

Her uncle took a deep breath.

“Let’s start at the beginning. Before you were born I came to Oxford to finish my education. It was a wise move on the part of my father, who thought I should enjoy Oxford and it would be an opportunity for me to excel, as he fervently hoped, at the University.”

“So you enjoyed being a student?” asked Tarena.

“Very much. I became friends with a young man who was younger than me, but who happened to be in the same College and we shared a set of rooms. His name was Ivan and he came from the Balkans.”

Tarena was listening to him intently and she did not interrupt.

“Ivan’s surname was Sazon,” her uncle continued. “Although a foreigner, he was soon accepted at Oxford for his athletic abilities. As he spoke excellent English, people soon forgot that he was of a different nationality.”

Tarena wondered why her uncle was telling her all this, but she did not make any comment.

He went on,

“After I had received my degree and was ordained, I was asked to stay and help in the Cathedral. My father thought it was an excellent idea. He was well aware that, once I took over a Parish Church on the estate, I would have very little time for anything else. ‘Enjoy yourself, my boy,’ he used to say when I first went up to Oxford. ‘If you don’t play cricket well or row in the Boat Race, I will be most annoyed with you’! ”

He gave a little laugh.

“Ivan and I were almost partners. He was very good at cricket, became Captain of the College team and then played for the University.”

“And you did too, Uncle Richard?” “I could not let Ivan beat me and I was exceedingly proud that we both managed to be in the University cricket team and we beat Cambridge by five wickets!”

Tarena had heard all this before and she noticed a little elation in her uncle’s voice.

“Then, when I was ordained, I was offered a small house to live in.”

Tarena knew all this too, but she did not say so.

“Because I had a house, your mother, who was then eighteen and finding it rather boring in Northumberland, came to live with me. She was, of course, a huge success with all the undergraduates because she was so beautiful and so talented. She sang at their Concerts and danced better than any girl they had ever met.”

He paused for a moment as if he was looking back into the past.

“Naturally, as Ivan was my very best friend, he was regularly a guest in my house, and not unnaturally he fell deeply in love with my sister, Elizabeth, and she fell head over heels in love with him.”

He sighed before he added in a moving way,

“I have never known two people to be so incredibly happy together.”

“So then you married them,” Tarena came in as if she was anticipating the end of the story.

“Yes, I married them and although Ivan was too old to be a student, he managed to stay on by offering to coach the cricket team.”

“But they lived with you – ” “As I was out and about so much, I did not interfere with them. Your mother, young though she was, ran the house brilliantly with the help of only two servants and we entertained a great deal. At the same time I realised that they were happiest when they could be alone together.”

He was now speaking very slowly.

Tarena felt that he was looking back into the past and seeing it all happening again in his mind.

Equally she was becoming anxious for him to tell her something she did not already know, as he had always been so evasive when she had asked him more penetrating questions.

“It was after they had been married for nearly two years,” her uncle went on, “that you were born. I have never seen two people more thrilled with their baby.”