CHAPTER ONE ~ 1869-1
2006 Words
CHAPTER ONE ~ 1869Donela came into the house feeling happy.
She had enjoyed a wonderful ride over the Park.
Nothing, she thought, could be lovelier than the daffodils coming out under the trees and the primroses and violets nestling amongst the moss.
As she walked in through the front door, the butler came forward to say,
“Sir Marcus wishes to speak to you, Miss Donela.”
Instinctively Donela stiffened.
She wondered frantically what she could have done to incur her stepfather’s displeasure.
It must be something or he would not have told the servants he wanted her.
She knew that he would be waiting for her in his study.
She always associated that particular room in her mind with something wrong.
When Sir Marcus had to reprove a servant or herself, it always happened in the study.
At the same time she was fond of her stepfather because he made her mother happy.
When Captain Angus Colwyn went down with his ship in an unusually fierce storm in the Bay of Biscay, his wife was heartbroken.
She was so upset that she almost followed him into the next world.
Apart from the fact that she had adored her husband and was distraught at losing him, she was also left with very little money.
A Naval Captain’s pay was meagre and there was only a tiny pension for his widow and children.
“I cannot think what we are to do, Donela,” her mother had said to her tearfully.
“We will manage somehow,” Donela replied. “I know that Papa would hate you to cry and make yourself ill.”
Mrs. Colwyn made a tremendous effort to pull herself together for her daughter’s sake.
She loved her and she knew instinctively that she was going to be a very attractive young woman.
She often thought that Donela missed so much, living in rented accommodation in seaports.
There were few large houses in those areas and the people who lived in them were not particularly impressed by a Sea Captain and his wife.
Mrs. Colwyn’s family were in Northumberland and she had been the daughter of a popular and respected Country Squire.
One of a large family, she had been to innumerable balls as a debutante.
While she had never come to London to make her curtsey to the Queen, she had met a great number of people socially.
Because she was very lovely her father had thought that she would marry well, preferably one of his rich and distinguished neighbours.
Unfortunately for him, on a visit to a nearby house where she was attending a ball, Mary Acton, as she was then, met Captain Angus Colwyn.
The moment he saw her he was bowled over and fell head-over-heels in love for the first time in his life.
Despite every protest from Mary’s father, they were married before he went back to the sea.
They travelled South so that she could wait at any Port where his ship was likely to dock.
Mrs. Colwyn and Donela were living in Portsmouth when they learnt that Captain Colwyn had lost his life.
They had rented a small furnished house until they would be told to move to another part of the coast.
After her husband’s death, Mrs. Colwyn had felt that she could not bear to be anywhere near the sea.
How could she watch ships coming into harbour that did not carry her husband?
She had therefore, for no particular reason except that somebody had told her it was cheap, moved to Worcestershire.
There they rented a small but very attractive Elizabethan black and white cottage.
It was on the outskirts of a pretty village where they made friends amongst the villagers.
It was quite by chance that Mrs. Colwyn became friends with the Master of Foxhounds, the very distinguished Earl of Coventry.
Because she was a very pretty woman, the Earl lent her his horses to ride and she hunted with the Crome Pack.
The Earl and his wife, if short of a female at dinner, would frequently invite Mrs. Colwyn to join them. She always enjoyed these special occasions because they were so different from her somewhat humdrum existence.
It was at a party given after the Flower Show that she met Sir Marcus Grayson.
Just like Captain Angus Colwyn, the moment he saw her he fell in love.
A man of fifty-five, he had been quite certain that he would never marry again and he had actually been a widower for over ten years.
He had found Mary Colwyn irresistible.
Almost before she had time to think of him as her suitor, he had asked her to marry him.
She was still grieving for her husband and so she felt that she could never give her heart to anybody else, so her first impulse was to refuse him.
Then, as Sir Marcus persisted in pursuing her, she thought of her daughter.
Although she was fortunate enough to be friendly with the Coventrys, they had no children of Donela’s age.
They never suggested that Mary Colwyn should bring her daughter to any of the festivities they arranged.
If she talked about Donela to the Countess, it was obvious that she was not really interested.
Sir Marcus was a rich man and also very distinguished.
The fifth Baronet, he described to Mary the magnificent house he owned in the North of Hertfordshire. He was extremely proud of his large estate.
He also spent some of his time in London where he was a guest of all the great hostesses.
At least two or three times a year he was invited by Queen Victoria to Windsor Castle.
Mary Colwyn looked at Donela and knew that, apart from anything else, her education was not as good as it should be.
How could she afford Tutors such as she had enjoyed when she was young? They had made her the equal of her brothers who had been at Eton and Oxford University.
Ultimately, because she loved her daughter, she succumbed to Sir Marcus’s pleadings.
Delighted at having got his own way, as he always expected, they were married immediately.
It was a quiet Wedding.
Because he did not want his friends to gossip and criticise, no one was invited to the Ceremony, not even Donela.
“I want you all to myself,” Sir Marcus said to his bride. “And if I am the happiest man alive, which I believe myself to be, I will not share my happiness with anybody else.”
They went away on their honeymoon and Donela was sent to the smartest and most exclusive Seminary for Young Ladies in London.
She was there for a year.
Then, because she suspected that her stepfather did not want her at home for the holidays, she went to what was called a Finishing School in Florence.
Because she had always wanted to travel, she was excited at the idea. At the same time she hated leaving her mother.
“I love you, Mama!” she cried with tears in her eyes, “and I will miss being with you all the time, as we used to be when Papa was alive.”
“I know, darling,” Mary Grayson said, “but you know that your stepfather is jealous if I concern myself with anyone except him.”
“But you are mine too,” Donela objected, “and I was there first!”
Mary Grayson laughed gently and her eyes were tender.
“I know exactly what you are saying, my precious,” she answered, “but I have to do what your stepfather wants and, as it has cost him a great deal of money to have you properly educated, you must show your gratitude.”
“I am grateful,” Donela said, “but in London I could come home for the holidays. Now Step-papa says that I am to stay in Florence for a year and six months without seeing you.”
Her voice broke and Lady Grayson put her arms around her daughter and held her very close.
“Once you are grown up,” she said, “things will be different. You will have friends of your own, the right sort of friends I have always wanted for you, and your stepfather has promised to give a ball for you both in London and in the country.”
“But – it will not be the same as being with you – Mama,” Donela sobbed.
Lady Grayson did not put what she was thinking into words.
She was sure, however, that by the time Donela came back to England, Sir Marcus would not be quite so possessive about her as he was now.
*
The year and a half in Florence passed slowly.
At the same time Donela was sensible enough to realise that she had an opportunity that would never come again.
Sir Marcus was very generous over extra tuition and she was therefore able to learn a number of languages that were added to her curriculum besides dancing and riding.
She enjoyed too being with girls of every nationality. She learnt about different countries and their customs from them as well as from books.
When finally at Easter, she had come back to England, she was just eighteen.
Although she was not aware of it, she was far better educated than most English girls.
She had inherited her father’s intelligence as well as his sense of adventure and she had grown up in the time that she had been abroad.
She had also become even lovelier than her mother remembered.
Now her large green eyes flecked with gold dominated her small pointed face.
Her hair had fiery lights amongst the fair curls.
It was much admired by the Florentines and was very different to that of most Englishwomen.
“You have become very beautiful, my darling!” Lady Grayson exclaimed with delight. “Oh, how I wish your father could see you now!”
“He would think that I was very like you, Mama,” Donela answered.
“Your hair is more spectacular than mine and your eyes are greener,” Lady Grayson said, “but, after your father had seen me, he declared that he could never look at another woman.”
She spoke with a little sob in her voice.
It was impossible even now after so long to talk of her first husband without wanting to cry.
Sometimes at night she would lie thinking of him and she wished that the years could go by quickly so that she could join him again.
But she told herself she was being ungrateful.
Sir Marcus doted on his wife and was very proud of her.
She had only to express a wish for it to be granted and her jewel case was filled with the gifts he showered on her.
If he had to go to London and she did not accompany him, he never returned without bringing her a new diamond brooch, a ring or a necklace.
“You spoil me!” she would protest. “How can I ever thank you?”
“All I want is your love,” Sir Marcus would say fiercely. “And I want all of it. I am jealous of every thought and every breath you draw!”
She knew he suspected that she still mourned her first husband and she was very careful never to mention him.
Nor did she talk about Angus Colwyn to Donela if Sir Marcus was present.
At the same time she was acutely aware, and so was Donela, that here again Sir Marcus was jealous. He resented every moment that his wife spent with her daughter.
He continued to be generous to Donela.
Yet Mary Grayson knew that he was calculating in his mind how soon she could be married and he could be free of her.
Walking towards the study, Donela was trying to think of something she had done that had annoyed her stepfather.
Last night they had been alone at dinner.
Afterwards, so that Sir Marcus could talk to her mother without her being brought into the conversation, she had sat down at the piano.
She played very well.
At school the girls had competed several times a year in singing the modern songs that were popular in their various countries.
The French girls always won the contest because the songs they brought from Paris were gay and light-hearted.
The songs the German girls sang were far too serious and only the Italians came close to beating the French.
Donela lagged humiliatingly far behind the others and finally she wrote to her mother asking her to send her the popular songs of the moment.
- Writer
