Cavendon Hall. Barbara Taylor Bradford

      After closing the door behind them, Alice stood there, not only wondering what had happened to Daphne, but also seeking a diplomatic way to approach the matter.

      Although Daphne was trying to disguise the fact, Alice noticed that her blouse was torn and the jacket sleeve ripped at the shoulder.

      It was Daphne who spoke first. In a shaking voice, she whispered, ‘Something happened …’ She was unable to continue, turned around, and collapsed on a chair, her entire body shaking.

      An exceedingly observant woman, Alice took in everything: Daphne’s dazed and troubled state, the bleakness in her blue eyes, the trembling mouth, the aura of fear surrounding her. It was obvious she was in shock, and Alice could not help anticipating the worst.

      Her eyes swept over the Earl’s daughter. Her clothes were in a mess, not only torn, but there were grass stains and dirty marks on the skirt, mud on the jacket, and, as she peered closer, she thought she spotted blood on the skirt. Her chest tightened in apprehension.

      Walking across the floor, she said softly, ‘Something bad happened, didn’t it, Lady Daphne?’ When Daphne did not answer, Alice said, ‘Am I correct, my lady?’

      Daphne could not speak. She attempted to hold herself still, but the shaking would not stop. She wanted to confide in Mrs Alice, just for the relief of it, but she did not dare tell her the truth. Not after Richard Torbett’s terrifying threat to have Dulcie and her mother killed. The mere thought of this brought tears to Daphne’s eyes, and she started sobbing as if her heart would break.

      Alice ran to her, knelt down at her feet and took hold of her hands. ‘Lady Daphne, I am here to help you. Don’t be afraid to cry. Let it all out. Tears help to release the tension.’ She reached into her jacket pocket and gave Daphne a clean white handkerchief. Alice waited quietly, kneeling next to the young woman, wanting to give her support, and a measure of comfort if that were possible.

      At one moment, Alice rose and went to the door, locking it to ensure their privacy. Then she returned to Daphne’s side. Slowly the sobbing abated. Daphne wiped her eyes again, and finally sat up straighter. She looked at Alice, explained, ‘I fell down, Mrs Alice, and I—’

      ‘Don’t say anything else, my lady!’ Alice interrupted. Drawing closer, she added, ‘I don’t need to know anything. Nothing at all.’ In a lower tone, she whispered, ‘Tell no one. No one at all. Understand?’

      Daphne looked at her intently. ‘Yes.’

      Alice said, ‘Do not trust anyone in this house. Not ever.’

      On hearing these words, Daphne was puzzled, and also a little frightened.

      Observing her reaction, and wanting to allay any fears, Alice reached out, took her hand. ‘Only your parents. You can trust them. Naturally. And you can trust me. And Walter and Cecily. We are Swanns. We will always protect you.’

      Daphne nodded her understanding, a look of relief entering her eyes.

      ‘Our ancestors made a blood oath over one hundred and sixty years ago. It has never been broken. Please say the motto, Lady Daphne.’ As she spoke Alice stretched out her right arm and made a fist.

      Daphne placed her right hand on Alice’s fist, and said in French, ‘Loyaulté me lie.’

      Repeating the motto in English, Alice said, ‘Loyalty binds me,’ and she put her left hand on top of Daphne’s, and the young woman did the same. ‘We are bound together into eternity,’ they said in unison.

      After a few moments of silence, Alice broke their grip, and stood up. She said quietly, ‘I think you must get undressed, and then take a hot bath, m’lady. A good soak will bring ease to your body. Shall I help you?’

      ‘No, no, thank you, Mrs Alice. I can manage,’ Daphne said hurriedly.

      Understanding that she wanted privacy, Alice nodded. ‘Please give me your hat, Lady Daphne.’

      Daphne did so, and rose, limping towards the bathroom, her mind racing, filled with all manner of thoughts, not the least being Alice’s comments about not trusting anyone except her parents and the Swanns.

      Alice explained, ‘I’m going to take those clothes home with me later. I will clean and mend them, and no one will be any the wiser.’

      Daphne paused, turned around and stared at her, ‘But—’

      ‘No buts, my lady. We can’t have one of the maids finding them, now can we?’

      Daphne simply nodded, realizing Mrs Alice was right.

      Alice said, ‘I shall go up to the sewing room and satisfy the curiosity of DeLacy and Cecily, put their busy little minds at rest. By the way, where did you fall, Lady Daphne? In the woods?’

      ‘Yes,’ Daphne replied, swallowing hard.

      ‘I shall lock the door behind me, m’lady. You don’t need anyone walking in on you unexpectedly. I’ll only be a few minutes.’

      ‘Is Daphne all right?’ DeLacy asked as soon as Alice walked into the sewing room.

      ‘Oh yes, she’s perfectly fine,’ Alice answered, smiling. She added, ‘You look lovely in that rose-coloured chiffon, Lady DeLacy. I think this one will work beautifully for you, for the spring supper dance later this month. Don’t you agree, Cecily?’

      ‘I do, Mother, it is a wonderful colour for DeLacy, and a change from blue.’ Cecily began to laugh. ‘Everyone in this family wants to wear blue.’ She glanced at DeLacy, and said, ‘I’m sorry, Lacy, but it is the truth.’

      ‘Oh, I know. Great-Aunt Gwendolyn says we’re all stick-in-the-muds, and unimaginative. She thinks we should all wear purple – the royal colour. She even wonders aloud why we want clothes to match our eyes.’

      Alice also had to laugh. ‘She’s been saying that for as long as I can remember.’

      DeLacy swirled, the chiffon evening dress flaring out around her legs. She said, as she turned again, ‘I suppose Daphne must have fallen in the woods. I know she was going to see Julian at Havers Lodge … to tell him he could invite his fiancée to the big ball. She must have been hurrying back because of the thunder clouds, and then tripped.’

      ‘That’s exactly what happened,’ Alice agreed, her mind instantly focused on the Torbetts. She knew the Earl and the Countess had never been too happy about Lady Daphne’s friendship with Julian, when they were younger. They were afraid the two of them might become too attached to each other. Fortunately, that hadn’t happened, because of Julian’s intentions to have a military career, and Daphne’s lack of interest in him romantically.

      They had only ever been platonic friends. This was also because Daphne’s head was filled with dreams of a duke’s son and a brilliant marriage, planted there at a very young age by her father.

      To Alice’s way of thinking, there was something odd about the Torbett family. They tended to put on airs and graces, but they weren’t as wealthy as they liked the world to believe. Hanson had always told Walter that they were pretentious, jumped-up nothings.

      On the other hand, Hanson was a bit of a snob and tended to dismiss anybody without a title. However, his damning statements had seemed to stick with her.

      Going over to the rack of dresses, Alice looked at all of them with her beady eye; they were perfect for DeLacy, she decided, and also Daphne, as well. She took a honey-coloured taffeta ball gown over to DeLacy. ‘I think this would be lovely …’

      There was a knock on the door, and when Alice called, ‘Come in,’ it was Walter who poked his head into the room. ‘Sorry to disturb you, ladies, but His Lordship would like DeLacy to go down for afternoon tea. Lady Gwendolyn has just walked over, and they are waiting in the drawing room.’

      Alice nodded, and exclaimed, ‘Tea, of course! You’d better hurry along, DeLacy.’ And I’d better go and look in on Daphne, Alice