Page 70 of Mirrors of the Past

Chapter Twenty-Six

1911

Unsurprisingly, Laurie thought, Elsie had decided not to host a traditional wedding reception. Instead, the wedding party went to Claridge’s for afternoon tea and, to the boys’ delight, lots and lots of cake.

First of all, though, they had to suffer the indignity of wedding photographs. Laurie felt he looked particularly stiff and unpleasant on them, his habitual scowl the expression of the day. Probably because he didn’t have the opportunity to spend any more time alone with Viola. He kept glancing at her, though, all the while wishing it was just the two of them here.

The photographer seemed to be a perfectionist and even Elsie started to get annoyed — she was, after all, a keen photographer herself. ‘Natural photographs are so much better,’ Laurie heard her mutter to Louis at one point, all the while fixing a smile on her lovely face. If you saw the pictures afterwards, unless you knew Elsie extremely well, you’d not understand how irritated she was becoming.

‘Excuse me, Miss Arthur, can you confirm you are maid of honour here today?’ There was seemingly a reporter lurking nearby, his American accent thicker even than Viola’s. ‘The New York socials will be delighted to see this report. Say, Mr Photographer, I’d be interested in buying some of these shots. Just name your price.’

“Mr Photographer” initially bristled, but looked interested and afterwards they went off together — possibly to discuss prices.

Viola had not had the chance to respond to the reporter, though.

‘I swear,’ Laurie heard her say to Pearl, once they were taking their seats at Claridge’s. ‘If that report goes out and says I’m maid of honour, I’ll come back and haunt the fellows who think that!’

Laurie, from his table too far away from her, could see the pent-up rage in her face and it softened his heart towards her again. She and he were very alike in some ways. That afternoon in Russell Square had definitely changed his opinion of her, and, despite his proclamations of not being very gallant and all the rest, he wanted to do something to make her see him in a different light. Because he was still afraid that she might not see him as Laurie, a flawed Byronic-hero type, who could be bad-tempered and speak without thinking, but deep down, actually, he wanted to tell her how he felt. How he realised he now felt and how, perhaps, he had felt since they’d first bumped into each other that day outside the toy store in Bodmin.

He fiddled with the cuffs of his rather fancy wedding shirt, while tuning in to a conversation Elsie was having with their mother.

‘I think we’ll come to Pencradoc on Christmas Eve,’ she was saying. ‘It will be Marigold’s first Christmas there and we want it to be incredibly special for her.’

‘Oh, that will be delightful!’ their mother replied. ‘She’ll love it. Our first family Christmas with her. We’ll be decorating the tree on Christmas Eve and we’ll leave the star for her to put on top. It’s always been the tradition that the youngest Pencradoc does it, although I think Arthur might be a little put out that it’s not his job this year.’

Elsie laughed. ‘Oh, we’ll let Marigold have her time this year. After all . . .’ She let her voice taper away and flushed. But Zennor placed her hand on Elsie’s and said, ‘It’s all right, darling. We’ll let her do it again next year because her little brother or sister won’t be quite big enough, will they.’

‘Indeed.’ Elsie replied, flushing even pinker. ‘Quite.’

Laurie dipped his head and hid a smile. And there it was. Congratulations, Elsie and Louis, then. He wasn’t quite sure why Elsie hadn’t revealed that news earlier, if he was frank. But then she had kept Marigold secret for three years — even from Louis. God knew how she’d done it but perhaps old habits died hard, even with Lady Elsie Pencradoc.

Then, as if she was changing the subject quite quickly, Elsie rushed in with her next question, which made Laurie jerk his head up and stare at her. ‘Do you think we could ask Louis’ parents, and Pearl and Holly and everyone as well? Just for part of the day, perhaps?’ she asked hopefully.

‘I don’t see why not.’ Zennor smiled at her daughter. ‘I’m sure Louis’ parents are just as anxious to spend Christmas with their granddaughter as we are, and it will be lovely to have them at Pencradoc. And I did hear that Viola and Sam were to spend Christmas with Pearl and Ernie. They said they might even come to midnight mass with us, so Viola and Sam experience a proper Cornish Christmas this year. We can’t promise snow, of course. Not in Cornwall — but we can certainly be merry otherwise.’

Laurie sat up straighter. That was certainly good news. Obviously, the fact that Elsie, Louis and Marigold would be part of Christmas at Pencradoc, but also that Viola might be there as well. And, even more splendidly, that they would be there at midnight mass in the little church in Pencradoc village that the family had been attending for more years than anyone could count. The church had always, he knew, held an odd sort of fascination to Elsie — her father’s first wife, along with her father, Ellory, the duke who had preceded Jago, were buried there.

Laurie cast a glance at Elsie, catching her profile alongside his own father’s, and, possibly, for the first time, he saw how similar they were . . . He blinked. It was rather obvious, really, when you saw something like that. Perhaps there was something in those rumours after all, then . . .

When he was very young, he remembered asking his mother why Elsie had a title and he didn’t, and was his father not as important as Elsie’s? Zennor had smiled and replied that in her eyes all her children were equal and equally loved, and nobody was as important to her as Laurie’s father and Laurie and his brothers and sisters.

The response had satisfied him at the time and he had thought no more of it. But now, as an adult, it made him wonder a little more than he possibly should as to the intricacies of Zennor’s response . . .

He pushed the thought out of his mind. It really didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Viola would be at Pencradoc church on Christmas Eve. And he would be there as well.

He looked across the room and saw her at a table with Pearl, Ernie, Holly, Noel and Sam. The children were with them and it was clearly a noisy, happy meal. Viola had, apparently, given up on her hairstyle and her long fair hair was now in a plait, hanging down her back, the red, green and gold ribbons wound through it.

Almost as if she could sense him watching her, she turned and looked at him. For another moment, they caught each other’s eyes and he tentatively smiled. She smiled back — also tentatively, and then, after another moment, she turned back to her family and friends.

Laurie, though, was still smiling — he must look rather stupid, he thought, smiling at nothing. So he forced the expression off his face and replaced it with his more usual semi-scowl.

‘You quite all right?’ Fabian, who was sitting next to him, asked. ‘Do you need more champagne? Or more cake?’ He nodded at the younger boys who were manfully chewing their way through some enormous slices of fruit cake.

‘What? No. Thank you.’

‘Fair enough. Just let me know if you do need anything. I’m damn sure I’m having more champagne. It’s dreadfully good.’

‘Enjoy it! That’s what it’s there for.’