Light of the Gods

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1860-2

As Nanny finished speaking. she flounced out of the study door and shut it sharply behind her.

The Vicar sighed.

He knew only too well that what Nanny was saying was true, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He would not go down on his knees to his brother-in-law to beg him to invite Sacha to the house parties that took place regularly at what the village people called ‘The Big House’.

He knew moreover only too well that there was not a chance in a million of Deirdre inviting Sacha to accompany her to London during the Season.

He looked at the miniature of his wife that was standing on his desk and wondered if her eyes were reproaching him.

‘What can I do, dearest?’ he asked in his heart. ‘This is another reason why I miss you unbearably and find myself lost because you are not here with me.’

However much his religion told him that they would meet again in another world, the Vicar recognised that he wanted his wife with him now.

The aching void that she had left when she died seemed to grow more painful as the years passed and every moment of every day he missed her more and more agonisingly.

When Nanny had said more or less the same thing to Sacha, she merely laughed.

“Can you imagine Deirdre inviting me to her parties?” she asked. “You know as well as I do that she is ashamed of me because I am so unimportant.”

“Jealous, more like!” Nanny replied abruptly.

Sacha laughed again.

“Dearest Nanny, you know that her Ladyship has nothing to be jealous about where I am concerned.”

Even while she spoke she knew that this was not quite true. Deirdre had always been jealous of everything that anybody else had, which might be hers.

She had hated the High Sheriff’s daughter because she had an adoring young man who followed her in the hunting field and who danced with nobody else at the parties that had been given for them before they were grown up.

Sacha used to be invited to these and, because she had enjoyed herself and looked so pretty as she did so Deirdre had been very unpleasant to her as they drove home from the last one they had been to together.

“I thought you made an exhibition of yourself, Sacha, when you were dancing Oranges and Lemons,” she said, “and you must have persuaded the boys in some underhand way to give you so many favours in the cotillion.”

“You had more than anybody else,” Sacha responded, hoping to appease her.

“Considering I had the prettiest dress in the room, I ought to have had them all,” Deirdre answered.

The Marchioness had joined in,

“That is true, my dearest, and you shall have another gown from Madame Yvonne although she is very expensive.”

Because she was determined to make Sacha feel small, she added,

“You might suggest to your mother, Sacha, that you have a new gown. The one you are wearing is too tight and in my opinion too short.”

“I will tell Mama, Aunt Alice,” Sacha replied meekly.

She knew that her gown was just right and her aunt was only being unpleasant because Deirdre was jealous of her.

Now for the last year she had not seen Deirdre and had only heard about her from the talk in the village.

Because most of the servants up at the Big House came from Little Langsworth, the stories of Deirdre’s success in the Social world were passed from mouth to mouth and there was very little that went on either in London or in the country that Sacha did not learn about.

She was aware that a number of distinguished gentlemen had proposed to her cousin, that the Queen had given her a special smile when she was presented at Buckingham Palace and that there were whispers of an impending marriage to someone of very high standing.

Sacha had found it all fascinating, although sometimes she thought a little wistfully that it would be delightful to see Deirdre herself and hear from her what was happening in her world.

Now astonishingly, when she least expected it, Deirdre had appeared and instead of sending for her had actually come to the Vicarage.

Because she could not help it, she said impulsively,

“You look lovely, Deirdre. I have never seen you in pink before and it makes you look very very beautiful!”

“That is what everybody says,” Deirdre answered complacently, “but I am not certain that I don’t look better in blue.”

She walked to the mantelpiece as she spoke to look at her reflection in the mirror as Sacha had done.

“The other night,” she said, “I wore pale green at a ball given at Buckingham Palace and I heard afterwards that the Prince Consort had said that it was the prettiest gown in the whole room.”

“Oh, Deirdre, how wonderful for you. Did you dance every dance?”

“Of course. And a number of very distinguished gentlemen were extremely annoyed when they found that my programme was filled and they were unable therefore to have even one dance with me.”

“I am sure that you are the belle of every ball you attend.”

“Of course I am,” Deirdre said, turning from the mirror, “and I have come to tell you, Sacha, a secret that you must not repeat to anybody.”

“You know if you tell me something in confidence I will be as silent as the grave,” Sacha promised.

She thought excitedly that with Deirdre confiding in her it was just like old times when they shared special secrets that must not be revealed to their parents.

“Do sit down, dearest,” she suggested indicating the sofa, “and tell me why you have come to see me. I have missed you more than I can possibly say.”

Just for a moment Deirdre had the grace to look embarrassed.

Then she said,

“I have been so busy, Sacha. I was saying to Mama only yesterday that I never have a moment to myself.”

“I understand, of course, I understand. And now you are here you have a secret to tell me?”

Deirdre lowered her voice.

“The secret is that I am to become engaged to the Duke of Silchester!”

Sacha looked at her wide-eyed.

“How exciting! How wonderful for you. Do you love him very much?”

“I am delighted that I should marry the Duke. Think of it, Sacha, I shall be a Duchess and walk into dinner before Mama!”

“Tell me about him,” Sacha urged her. “Is he very handsome?”

“Yes, very, and it is so like you Sacha, not to have heard of him. He is one of the most important Dukes in England, a big racehorse owner and he has an enormous house in Buckinghamshire far, far bigger than ours.”

“It sounds everything you should have,” Sacha cried. “When are you to be married?”

There was a little pause.

Then Deirdre replied,

“Papa is making all the arrangements and we are first to have an engagement party to which all our relatives will be invited and, of course, everybody of importance in the County.”

“When will that be?” Sacha enquired.

“In about three weeks’ time, but Papa says that nobody is to know that we are engaged until then because it would spoil the surprise.”

“I am so glad you have told me,” Sacha said, “and you know, Deirdre, I shall pray that you will be marvellously happy.”

Deirdre did not answer and after a moment Sacha said,

“What is wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong,” Deirdre replied. “It is just that I need your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes, Sacha. You can help me and it is something you must do.”

“But of course. I will do anything you ask of me, as I always have, Deirdre.”

“That is what I knew you would say,” Deirdre replied. “Now listen carefully, because this is important.”

Sacha had sat down beside her cousin on the sofa and now Deirdre turned to her to say,

“Papa heard the day before yesterday that the Duke has had an accident!”

“An accident? Was he injured?”

Deirdre nodded.

“He is in Scotland with his grandmother and he stood on a gun trap.”

“Oh, no!” Sacha exclaimed. “How terrible.”

She was well aware that gun traps were dangerous because her father often deplored the use of them in the same way that he thought mantraps were hideous instruments of cruelty.

He had explained to Sacha that gun traps were used in the North of England and Scotland and less commonly in the South to catch foxes and wildcats that preyed on sporting birds.

A small animal, such as a rabbit or sometimes a lamb, was put alive in the trap and when a fox attracted by its bleating went to investigate the trap it exploded either killing it or inflicting serious wounds.

“They are barbarously inhuman,” the Vicar had said angrily. “Nobody should use such contraptions.”

He was angry because he suspected that one of the Marquis’s keepers had been using a gun trap not only to trap and kill foxes but also to warn poachers that their lives could be in danger.

He had been successful in having both gun traps and mantraps abolished on the Langsworth Estate, but not before there had been some rather heated arguments with the Marquis.

“You must be very upset about the Duke,” Sacha said a little breathlessly.

“I am sorry for him,” Deirdre answered, “but at the same time I have no wish to go to Scotland.”

“Has he asked you to go to him?”

“His grandmother has written to Papa saying that, as he is very depressed being confined to bed and having to be operated on to remove the pieces of metal that were driven into his body by the explosion, it would be a nice gesture on my part if I went North to stay with her at her Castle.”

“It’s a long journey, but I am sure you will want to go.”

There was silence before Deirdre said,

“That is just the point, Sacha. I don’t want to go and in fact I cannot go at the moment!”

“Why not?”

“Because Lord Gerard has already invited me to a party he is giving specially for me at his house, which is about thirty miles from here. Having accepted his invitation, I have no intention of letting him down.”

“But Deirdre, surely if you are going to marry the Duke you will want to be with him when he needs you?”

Deirdre seemed to be feeling for words before she said,

“That is not the point. Lord Gerard is a close friend and this party has been planned for some time. He is giving a small dance, very intimate and cosy, and there will be lots of fascinating things to do in the daytime. I have to go and, what is more, I intend to do so.”

There was a hard note in Deirdre’s voice that Sacha did not miss. Then because she was very perceptive and knew Deirdre so well, she said,

“I think, dearest, Lord Gerard means something very – special to – you.”

For a moment she thought that Deirdre was going to deny it.

Then she said,

“I am very fond of him and I want to go to his party.”

Sacha’s eyes were searching her cousin’s face.

“Deirdre, you love him? Why do you not marry him?

“How can I when the Duke has asked me?” Deirdre objected. “Papa and Mama are so thrilled that I shall be a Duchess! Think of the position I shall hold at Court as well as in the country at the Duke’s ancestral home and at all the other houses he owns.”

Deirdre drew in her breath before she went on,

“And the Silchester diamonds are famous! There is a tiara that looks just like a crown.”

“But you love Lord Gerard!”

“There is no use in going on saying that,” Deirdre answered irritably. “And even if I do, it would be crazy and would infuriate Papa and Mama if I refused the Duke. No, I have every intention of marrying him, but I am going to Harry’s party because it will be the last time I will be able to see him – before I am married.”

There was almost a little sob in Deirdre’s voice and Sacha put out her hand to lay it on hers.

“Do you really think, dearest, however consequential you are, that you will be happy with the Duke when you love somebody else? Will you not find yourself always regretting that you have given up Lord Gerard when he might have been your husband?”

“He cannot offer me enough,” Deirdre replied, “and that is the truth. His estate is small and I know he is in debt, but I want to be rich very rich and a Duchess!”

Sacha wanted to say that her mother married her father and never regretted it for one moment, but she knew that Deirdre would not believe it, just as in the past she had often asked, ‘how could your mother give up living here for that pokey little Vicarage?’