Chapter Two

1911

Nobody had quite expected it to blow up like it had done the week after Pearl and Ernie’s midsummer costume ball.

Laurie, however, had not been surprised. He’d been as shocked as the rest of the family — understandably, as his elder sister, Elsie, had suddenly announced that she had a three-year-old daughter — but he’d not been surprised . It was unlike Elsie to do anything without an element of drama. And, as he understood it, the champagne Elsie had consumed that night had contributed to the announcement as much as Elsie’s dramatic personality had. Especially when she’d called out Louis, the man she had “loved forever” apparently, as the father, just as he’d been on the verge of, it was said, offering marriage to the appalling Margaret Corrington.

Louis was one of Laurie’s friends, although Louis was a few years older than him, but he’d always liked and respected the man. And he was utterly glad Louis wasn’t going to marry Margaret now: she was — so Laurie’s younger sisters, Isolde and Medora, said — a singularly dreadful woman who didn’t really have a good word for Laurie’s family anyway.

Laurie was selfishly glad. Because, just after the announcement, Elsie and Louis had buried whatever ridiculous hatchet they’d had between them for the last few years, and had returned to London and their daughter, Marigold, and he, Laurie, knew that he would be gaining a brother rather than losing a friend.

Well — that was entirely dependent on whether Louis and Elsie decided to marry. So far, they hadn’t mentioned that at all. And Margaret Corrington’s mother had wasted no time in the few days since the ball, poisoning Louis’ and Elsie’s reputations amongst the local families.

The story had spread like wildfire and the day after Louis and Elsie had left for London, Medora had gleefully shared the fact that Louis’ Great-Aunt Hortense had driven up in a carriage and threatened to disinherit him. Hortense had called little Marigold all kinds of terrible names and Hortense’s daughter, Priscilla — Louis’ spinster aunt — had been with her, and she’d sworn that she would never speak to any member of the Ashby family ever again, “at all ” . Louis’ mother and father had apparently stood their ground and said good. They didn’t particularly want to speak to Priscilla ever again anyway.

Laurie thought it best not to speculate on where Medora had got her information from, but now it was four days after the midsummer ball and to his mind the situation was what it was. Elsie was . . . Elsie. Scandal would follow her wherever she went and whatever she did.

He, on the other hand, was in Bodmin, peering in the window of a toy shop, wondering if he should buy his niece a gift. He’d never had a niece before and it was an odd feeling.

He turned away from the window, deciding to think about it a little more, and wondering if he should head to the bookshop instead — or even the stationery shop, because he could really do with a new notebook for his scribblings. Just then, he bumped into a petite, fair-haired girl with an armful of parcels.

And he really did bump into her. He walked right into her and she fell backwards into a muddy puddle that had collected on the pavement from a recent summer storm. All the parcels she’d been carrying tumbled to the floor — Laurie didn’t know what was in them, but some of them made a dreadful, tinny noise when they landed on the pavement and they scattered around her like nine-pins.

The girl herself looked startled, with splashes of mud all over her perfect, oval face and globs of brown mud sticking to her fair hair.

He opened his mouth to apologise and automatically held his hand out to help her up, when she began shouting at him. And not just shouting, yelling about how careless he was and had he not seen her?

‘Jeepers!’ The girl scrambled inelegantly to her feet. ‘Do you English guys not look where you’re going?’ She wiped her hands angrily down her skirt, which seemed to make her even more cross as she looked at the ugly marks smeared all over the fine lawn material.

Laurie stared at her in surprise. Although he came from a relatively liberal, bohemian family and had three sisters, and four female cousins, he was fairly sure that none of them — except maybe Elsie — would shout at a stranger in the street.

‘It was an accident!’ he said indignantly. ‘Look, I’ll help you pick them up . . .’ He bent down and picked up the parcel nearest to him. However, it too had fallen into a puddle and the brown-paper wrapper unravelled itself, and a host of marbles tumbled right back down to the ground, rolling around in a most annoying fashion.

‘Oh, sorry. Here. Let me get this one instead.’ He picked up another one. It made a sickening sort of rattle and he had the horrible feeling that whatever had been in it was broken beyond repair . . .

The girl almost growled at him. ‘Leave them! Just leave them! You’ll break everything if you touch any more.’ She flapped him away and bent down herself to gather up the remaining parcels. As Laurie tried to gather up as many marbles as possible, he became aware of a pair of polished leather shoes coming into his line of vision. Oh, God, this was the girl’s husband or father, and he was going to get severely reprimanded. And what a way to be discovered, grubbing around on the wet pavement, marbles rolling into the muddy road . . .

‘Lost your marbles, have you, Laurie Teague?’ said a familiar voice, which contained, it had to be said, a hint of amusement.

The fair-haired girl frowned. ‘Ernie! You know this juggins?’ From his vantage point on the ground, Laurie noticed that the hem of her pale-pink dress was also soaking wet and her smart, black shoes were disgustingly muddy. But juggins ? What the hell did that mean? He had a feeling it wasn’t complimentary.

‘I sure do, Viola,’ said the owner of the polished shoes. ‘Come on, Laurie, enough grubbing already.’

Laurie stood up, dusted his own knees down and faced his friend Ernie — Ernie from Elton Lacy, who had hosted the infamous midsummer costume ball four days ago.

‘Ernie. Good morning,’ Laurie said stiffly. ‘You sound more American every day.’ He cast a glance at the scowling girl — Viola, apparently. ‘That’s not a good thing. Doesn’t seem that some Americans speak the same language as us.’

Ernie just laughed. ‘Sorry, old man. I’ve lived with Pearl a long time now. And we have Viola staying with us too at the moment. And Sam was here for a few days as well, so I fear I am, and have been , outnumbered by Americans. The lingo can’t help rubbing off on one.’

‘Quite.’ Laurie’s voice was stiff and suddenly very, very English.

‘You sound more like Elsie every day,’ said Ernie. ‘I say, how is she doing?’ He looked a little concerned. ‘And Louis, of course.’

‘Well, they went to London together,’ said Laurie. ‘And neither one of them has come back spewing fire and brimstone yet, so I suspect they’re jolly good.’

‘Wonderful.’ Ernie nodded and smiled.

A female voice chipped in. ‘What’s wunnerful? Oh, Laurie! I see you’ve met my sister. Viola, has Ernie introduced you properly? Oh, but, Viola ! What happened, honey? You sure are miry . Say, how much mud can actually stick to one person?’

Viola flushed bright red and slapped her sister’s well-meaning hand away as Pearl started trying to rub the mud off the gown with a tiny lace handkerchief — possibly thinking that Viola needed treating in a similar fashion as Pearl’s four small children.

Then Viola and Laurie stared angrily at one another as Pearl continued ineptly clucking at her sister, and Laurie had the feeling that Viola wanted to get as far away from him as he wanted to get away from her. The escapade had been embarrassing and annoying, and he desperately wished he had never come to Bodmin today at all.

Then Viola slowly shook her head and pasted a fake smile on her perfect, mud-splattered face. ‘Oh, no. That’s all right, Pearl. I don’t think we need to be introduced. I have no intention of seeing this man again. He’s an absolute fool . And, besides, he doesn’t look where he’s going.’

‘I echo that sentiment,’ said Laurie. He didn’t particularly want to see Viola again either. He bowed politely and dismissively. ‘Good day, Pearl, Ernie. I hope your sister returns to America very soon and we never have to cross paths again.’

Then, without waiting for an answer, he stalked away up the high street and wished himself a million miles away — yes, perhaps even in America itself.

Because if he was there, he’d at least be in a different country to that woman right now, and be unlikely to bump into her again for quite some time!

* * *

‘This country!’ Raging, Viola fruitlessly wiped her hands down her frock again. ‘Jeepers! You sure have some odd friends, Pearl.’

‘My friends are wunnerful,’ replied Pearl with a grin. ‘You like Holly, right?’

‘Well, yes. But he is something else.’ She pointed angrily in the direction of the tall, dark-haired young man who was striding, it seemed equally angrily, away from them.

‘That’s Laurie.’ Pearl smiled affectionately after him. ‘Elsie’s brother. He’s corking . Honestly, he’s just so delightful.’

‘Oh! So he’s related to that crazy girl from your party?’ Viola had really liked Elsie. The fact she deemed her “crazy” was, in Viola’s world, a compliment.

‘Yes. Oh, I do hope Elsie and Louis are settling in with that glorious little girl. I must write soon.’

Pearl’s eyes went all misty and Viola hoped beyond hope that her sister wasn’t getting broody again. Four children was quite, quite enough. Which reminded her . . .

‘Oh my gosh! Pearl, I am so, so sorry.’ Viola indicated the mess of soggy packages and escaped marbles on the pavement. ‘These were gifts for the children. Until he wrecked the surprise.’ She hunkered down and started collecting more marbles from the roadside, and, to her surprise, Pearl hunkered down next to her — a lot more elegantly, though.

‘Don’t worry about it. Nothing’s spoiled.’

Ernie joined them, gathering up packages. ‘Ah. This one might be spoiled.’ He rattled one, the same one that Laurie had picked up and shook with that look of dawning horror on his face.

Viola looked at the package and then laughed. ‘Hey. No, that’s not a problem. Honestly. It’s a jigsaw. It’s meant to be in pieces. Otherwise, where’s the fun in that?’

‘Oh!’ Ernie stared at the parcel. ‘Gosh, don’t you think we need to tell Laurie? I’m sure he’ll feel dreadful.’

‘No.’ Viola shook her head. ‘I’m sure he won’t be giving it a second thought. Thank you, Ernie. Thank you, Pearl.’ She stood up and waited for the others to join her, then the three of them split the parcels between them to take back to the motor car. Ernie very kindly put some in his overcoat pocket, and she and Pearl filled their reticules with them.

‘I’m sure the children will adore the gifts,’ Pearl told her. She smiled affectionately in the direction Laurie had gone. ‘I suspect that’s what Laurie was doing — finding a gift for Marigold. Oh, I say. Will you be here at Halloween, Viola?’

Viola pulled a face. ‘I don’t know. I do intend to go visit Sam in London.’ Sam was Viola and Pearl’s brother. The trip to Cornwall had originally been planned as simply a stopover on their way home to New York from Paris, but Sam had decided to make the most of their time in England and travelled to London two days after the ball. ‘But, you know, it’s the end of June. That would mean me staying here for four more months.’

‘And?’ Pearl looked curious. She obviously couldn’t see a reason for Viola to not remain in England until the end of October. It was all right for her, for Pearl. She was happy and settled now. She’d found her Prince Charming and had never really been like her younger sister. Viola had always wanted to travel and see the world, see what was over that next hill, that next river . . .

‘I don’t know. We’ll have to see, I guess. We’ll just have to see.’ But Viola was at least certain of one thing — she was in no hurry to see that Laurie person again.