Summer Knights

Chapter One

Lady Gayle Summer strolled into her mother’s dressing room, followed by Gaspod, her late father’s bloodhound.

‘Gayle, please could you leave that animal outside,’ complained her mother, the Dowager Countess of Bethencourt.

‘He’s not doing anyone any harm, Mama,’ replied Lady Gayle, fondling the large hound’s soft ears. ‘I have a letter from Bundle—’

‘I do wish you wouldn’t use such ridiculous names for each other,’ replied her mother with a sigh.

‘Stop fussing, Mama, and I’ll tell you what’s in her letter,’ Lady Gayle answered her mother a little tersely. ‘It’s good news. She’s asked me to come and stay with her and Bink— I mean Lord Ridgewell, over the New Year. That means you can go to stay with your cousin Mildred in Brighton, content in the knowledge that I won’t be here alone after all.’

‘Who will oversee the installation of the central heating system if you’re not here though? That’s what I would like to know.’ The dowager countess sat back as her maid applied a brush to the countess’ long hair. The maid’s face was serene as she began the task of the long strokes which made the
older woman’s hair shine.

‘I’ll only be away for a few days, and Fredericks and Mrs Mitchell are perfectly capable of seeing to things here in the meantime. I rather think it will make life easier if they don’t have me to cater for as
well. It means all the servants can go home to their families if they wish to.’

Lady Edith Summer turned to her dressing table mirror and tared at her daughter’s reflection. ‘That makes sense, I suppose,’ she applied a lavish layer of cream to her face.

Lady Gayle raised an eyebrow at her mother, who rarely seemed to use any form of skincare, let alone face cream, and was still becoming used to being called the Dowager Countess. The title of Countess had been hers until a few weeks beforehand when she’d unexpectedly become a widow, and Lady Gayle had inherited the entire estate. Although the stringent post war taxes had made finances tight, they were able to make some small improvements to Bethencourt Castle, which had been in the family for several generations. Albeit not exactly Lady Gayle’s branch of the family. Her inheritance came about due to the Great War and the deaths of her cousins Maxwell and Rupert, who had been amongst the vast numbers of young men lost in battle. Now the castle was hers to take care of, and the installation of central heating had been one of the first things her father had planned. Although it really was very messy and inconvenient, she wanted to carry out his wishes, even down to using the plumber he’d selected. It was why she’d written to Bundle begging for a place to stay for a while during the worst of the renovations. Bundle, always a trooper, had come up trumps, and Lady Gayle had somewhere to escape to. However, there was one minor point that Lady Gayle was less keen on. She glanced at the letter once more.

As you know, I’m absolutely bloated at the moment. Size of a whale, I tell you. Binky has moved to his father’s old room; he says there’s no room in this bed for him any longer. That, and he insists the baby kicks him in his sleep. All nonsense,
dash it, but you know what men are like.

Baby isn’t due for a few weeks yet, and I’m committed to bed rest. Lor, am I bored. Come and keep me company. We can catch up on old times, and you can tell me everything that’s been going on in your life, although…

Here, the letter broke off, the ink trailing away down the page. Lady Gayle wondered if Lady Ridgewell had dropped her pen, even though she had a good idea why the letter stopped. Only a few weeks beforehand, Lady Sylvia Redmond-Smythe had come to stay and had been a victim of mistaken identity and murdered. She sat for a moment, remembering her friend and their last few hours together.

‘Gayle,’ said her mother.

Lady Gayle glanced over. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘What was the question?’

‘The baby, how are you going to cope?’

‘I’ll be fine, Mama,’ she replied, dipping her head so her mother couldn’t see her flushed cheeks and flustered expression.

‘Well, just so long as you are. I think we’ve all had enough upset for one year, don’t you. Now, are you taking the Bentley?’ her mother said, wiping the excess cream from her face with a tissue.

‘No, Mama. Mr Howden has said I can borrow his Austin for this trip. Since he’s living in the village now, he told me he can easily walk or cycle to his work here.’

‘Very well. Although the thought of you driving all that way alone gives me yet more things to worry about.’

‘I won’t be alone. Alice will be with me. I shall telephone you as soon as I arrive. I’m going to be leaving first thing in the morning, so I simply came to wish you a very happy new year. I’m sure 1923 will be our best year ever.’

‘If you say so,’ replied the Dowager Countess.

Lady Gayle rushed down the corridor to her own room, where Alice, her maid, was putting the finishing touches to the packing.

‘Are you sure that this will be enough, milady?’ said Alice as she pushed down the lid of the trunk they were taking.

‘Well, I do hope so, Alice. Otherwise, there won’t be room for us in the car.’

‘I should have sent a trunk by train, milady. I still could, but then it might not arrive in time.’

‘Yes, that’s the danger, isn’t it? Look, it’s only for a couple of nights. It’s just a small house party.’

‘Will Lord Charles Vickery be there?’ Alice’s face held a trace of concern. ‘Or does he remain in mourning?’

Lady Gayle sighed. Charles Vickery had been engaged to Lady Sylvia before her death. ‘Yes, I understand that Viscount Vickery will be in attendance, but then so are several other gentlemen and their ladies.’

‘Lord Vickery is the only one who’s still unmarried, isn’t he?’ A faint smile hovered on Alice’s lips.

 ‘I do believe that Sir William Greenwood is yet to take wedding vows.’

‘If anyone will have him,’ muttered Alice.

Lady Gayle whirled around to frown at her maid. ‘Alice! How can you say such a thing? Pongo is an absolute sweetheart. I’m sure some young lady will sweep him off his feet soon.’

‘Yes, milady.’ Alice bobbed in a curtsy. ‘If you don’t mind, milady, I will send the trunk down now. Mr Fredericks is waiting for it, and then perhaps we should both go to bed since we’re leaving so early?’

‘Yes, that’s a good idea,’ said Lady Gayle. ‘I’d like to get there before lunch if at all possible. I’ll take Gaspod for a last stroll before I turn in though. I won’t need you anymore. You can head to bed.’

‘Very good, milady,’ said Alice. She handed Lady Gayle her coat, opened the bedroom door for her mistress and rang the bell for the footmen to carry the trunk downstairs.

After an early breakfast and a last conversation with Fredericks, the Bethencourt butler, Lady Gayle, Gaspod, and Alice were finally ready to leave. Outside, the Austin sat waiting for them.

‘Drive carefully, Countess Bethencourt,’ said Fredericks.

Lady Gayle glanced at him. Why is he using my full title? And then she saw Mr Harry Howden on the far side of the Austin. Her heart gave a little skip. Even with his thick spectacles, he was a very handsome man. She knew that some of the staff believed he was a communist and that he had no right to be working for a noble family. Harry liked to tease them about it, and in return, Fredericks liked the land agent to remember his place.

She bade farewell to her butler and Mrs Mitchell, her housekeeper and trotted down the few steps to the gravel driveway fronting Bethencourt Castle. Looking back, her gaze rose to take in the splendid old house. Built from local York stone, it dated back to the reign of the Plantagenet king —one of the reasons that her late Great Uncle Percival had called his horse Plantagenet. Despite the enormous personal loss that led to her being its owner, she loved this ancient building and everyone in it. But after the recent turmoil, she knew a break would be good for her.