he world in solemn stillness lay

To hear the angels sing.

‘That Glorious Song of Old’:

EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS (1850)

It was Saturday, December the first, and in a short while Linnet O’Neill would go to the church in the village of Pennistone Royal, on the arm of her father Shane. And it was there she would marry her childhood sweetheart, Julian Kallinski. And with their nuptials the three clans of the Hartes, the O’Neills and the Kallinskis would finally be fully united in marriage.

Now, Linnet stood in the middle of her bedroom at Pennistone Royal, wearing her wedding gown. She thought it was the most wonderful creation, made of cream-coloured heavy Duchesse satin, cream-coloured Guipure lace, and thousands and thousands of tiny pearls and crystal beads.

Evan had designed the gown, and she stood staring at Linnet. Her head was on one side, and she was studying the gown intently, her eyes taking in every detail, looking for last-minute flaws, tiny things she might have missed earlier in the week, when the dress had finally arrived from the seamstresses. But she could find nothing amiss, and after a few more seconds of intensive scrutiny she finally announced: ‘There’s not a thing wrong! It’s just perfection on you, Linnet, even though I do say so myself. You look like a dream in it.’

Linnet’s sister, Emsie, who was also in the bedroom, exclaimed, ‘Evan’s right, Linny. I’ve never seen you look like this. Not ever. Julian’s going to fall in love with you all over again.’

‘He’d better,’ Linnet said with a chuckle. ‘Thank you both for your compliments. And Evan, thanks for designing my gown. And the bridesmaids’ dresses, and for everything else you’ve created for the wedding. I don’t know what we’d have done without you.’

‘You’re welcome, it’s been my pleasure,’ Evan replied. Moving across the floor, she took hold of Linnet’s hand, and carefully led her over to the cheval mirror in the corner near the window. ‘There! Just look at yourself.’

Linnet stepped in front of the mirror and caught her breath. She’d never seen herself looking so…fantastic. It was the gown, of course. Evan had adapted the Tudor style to suit her, and how well it worked. Although Linnet was of medium height, the gown made her look taller, and very elegant. Yet there was a youthfulness to it, because of the cut, the tight bodice, the sheer romance of it.

The dress had a square medieval neckline that cleverly came right to the middle of her shoulders, so that they were shown to advantage. The sleeves started narrow but became very wide bells, almost like kimono sleeves, while the skirt was also bell-shaped and fell into a longish train at the back. The bodice above was extremely tight, moulded to Linnet’s slender figure, so that it gave her a very narrow waist.

The front of the skirt was cut away to reveal a panel made of the cream Guipure lace, and the same lace lined the inside of the bell-shaped sleeves. The final and most extraordinary touch was the embroidery. The front panel was covered in pearls and crystal beads, as was the Guipure lace lining the sleeves. Bands of tiny crystals and pearls outlined the square neckline, and the outer edges of the sleeves, and the billowing skirt made of the cream Duchesse satin had scatterings of tiny crystal beads all over it.

A single short strand of South Sea pearls encircled her long neck, and there were pearl clusters on her ears. The set was a gift from her parents. The only other piece of jewellery Linnet wore was her engagement ring.

Staring at herself, she shook her head. ‘Evan, it’s just the most gorgeous dress…’ Her voice trailed off; words failed her.

‘On you, yes, Linnet, because it suits you so well. I told you I was going to turn you into a young Tudor Queen for your wedding, and I have.’

Emsie, twirling around, asked, ‘How do I look then?’

Linnet smiled indulgently, and was glad she was actually able to say, in all sincerity, ‘Beautiful, Emsie, beautiful.’ Usually Emsie looked somewhat bedraggled and untidy, was careless about her clothes. But this afternoon she did look lovely in the silvery grey-blue watered-taffeta gown all of the attendants were going to wear.

Touching her red-gold hair, Linnet now asked Evan, ‘Are you sure my hair’s all right, going back like this? Will the headdress sit well?’

‘It will, trust me,’ Evan replied. ‘But don’t put it on just yet, I’ll do that. And don’t sit down.’

Linnet laughed. ‘Gosh no, I mustn’t get all rumpled.’ Glancing across at the eighteen-year-old Emsie, she sternly cautioned, ‘You’d better not sit down either, my girl.’

There was a sudden loud knock on the door. ‘Who is it?’ Linnet called.

‘Linnet dear, it’s Uncle Robin.’

‘Oh, don’t come in, I don’t want you to see me!’

‘I’m looking for Evan. I got a message from her.’

‘I’m here, Robin. I’m coming.’ Hurrying towards the door, Evan said to Linnet, as an afterthought, ‘You didn’t forget, did you? Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.’

Linnet nodded. ‘I’ve got all that…Emsie remembered, actually.’

‘Good for you,’ Evan remarked, glancing at the younger girl and went gliding out into the corridor, looking exquisite in her silvery-grey taffeta.

Robin Ainsley was standing waiting near her bedroom door, and she hurried along the corridor, smiling affectionately.

‘Hello, Robin, thanks for coming. How did you know I was now ensconced in the Blue Room?’

Bending towards her, he gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Hello, darling girl,’ he said, added, ‘Margaret told me you were moved earlier this week, in order to accommodate your parents. But the Blue Room’s much nicer than the Yellow Suite, don’t you think?’ His eyes roamed over her, and he said in a loving voice, ‘Oh Evan, how truly lovely you are today. The dress is superb. I do think you’ve done yourself proud with the design.’

‘Thank you.’ She gave him a knowing glance and asked, ‘I don’t look too pregnant, do I?’

‘Not really.’ His mouth suddenly began to twitch with silent laughter, and he added, ‘Only to those of us who know you well and know your condition.’

‘Oh God, how awful!’

‘Don’t say that, it’s my great-grandchild you’re carrying. However, quite seriously, my dear, your version of the Tudor style helps greatly. Actually, it’s rather deceptive; yes, very deceptive indeed.’

‘I hoped it would help,’ she answered, and couldn’t help laughing herself when she remarked, ‘What a bride I’m going to make in January. I’ll be very big then. Anyway, don’t let’s stand out here in the corridor. Come on in.’

Moving forward, Evan opened the door of the Blue Room and Robin followed her into the sitting room. Immediately, she hurried over to a chest of drawers, took something out of the top drawer and holding it tightly in her palm came back to Robin, who waited in the middle of the floor.

Evan stood only a few feet away, staring up at him.

‘That’s a rather appraising look you’re giving me.’ He regarded her thoughtfully, suddenly frowning. ‘Is there something on your mind, Evan?’

‘My look was one of admiration, not appraisal. I was thinking how handsome you look in your morning suit, Robin.’ She nodded to herself. ‘You know something else: you’ve looked so much better lately, especially since Dad’s arrival in Yorkshire in September. Don’t you think you look better?’

‘Yes I do. I feel very fit these days.’

‘Certainly you seem less frail,’ she added quietly.

‘Now Evan, earlier you left a message that you needed to speak to me about something before the wedding. About something very important,’ he said urgently, and his eyes went to the clock on the mantelpiece as he explained, ‘I’ll have to be going quite soon, you know. Your parents and I must arrive at the church well before the bridal party, because of the special seating for the family, and all that security Jack Figg’s put in place.’

Evan nodded. ‘This won’t take too long, but won’t you sit down, Robin? I can’t, because of my dress. I don’t want to crush it. But there’s no reason for you to stand.’

‘I’m perfectly all right, my dear,’ he reassured her.

Leaning against the desk in front of the window, Evan said slowly, ‘Listen, I’ve got something interesting to tell you.’

‘About what? Or should I say whom?’

‘I’ve unravelled the mystery of Glynnis. Or perhaps I should say I’ve solved the puzzle…I now know exactly why Glynnis sent me to London.’

‘You do?’ Robin Ainsley sounded taken aback and a silver brow shot up quizzically. His clear blue eyes focused on her keenly as he continued, ‘Why don’t you tell me…I would like to hear what’s on your mind, Evan dear.’

‘Okay, here goes,’ she responded. ‘Last year, when Gran told me to go to London to find Emma Harte, telling me that Emma was the key to my future, she had only one motive really.’

‘And what was that?’ he asked.

‘I’ll get to her motive in a second. Let’s first examine Glynnis’s method. When she told me to go to London to look for Emma she was absolutely certain I would do so. You might wonder why, so let me explain. I had always done everything she told me from my childhood; she knew she was the biggest influence on my life. Then again, she was well aware I was bored with my job in New York, that I wanted a change. A chance to fly, she called it. In other words, she didn’t doubt that I would go, especially since she had left me money. However, when she sent me here Glynnis knew Emma Harte was dead.’ Evan paused, stared hard at Robin, waited for a reaction.

His face revealed nothing; his expression was inscrutable, just like his mother’s had frequently been. There was a lot of Emma in Robin.

Taking a deep breath, Evan continued, ‘Consider this…there was no way Glynnis could have foreseen that I would actually end up getting a job at Harte’s that first day. Or that I would meet Gideon in the corridor and that we would fall in love. Am I right?’

‘Yes, you are.’

‘Basically, Glynnis had no guarantee that any of those things would happen. None at all. So her method of getting me to the Hartes, which was important to her, was somewhat convoluted, wouldn’t you say?’

‘I suppose it was,’ Robin agreed, frowning again, looking baffled. Then he suddenly asked, ‘So what are you actually getting at?’

‘Glynnis, our very clever Glynnis Hughes, apparently wanted to heave me into the orbit of the Harte family, as we both know, and before she died she told my mother I would be irresistible to them. And by the way, that’s something I only recently found out. Still, there wasn’t any guarantee I would ever meet a Harte, was there, Robin?’

‘No. In fact the way you’re putting it now, it was quite unlikely. You could have gone to the store, discovered my mother was dead, and gone away. But you fell in love with the store, at least so you told me.’ He paused, nodded his head. ‘And so you decided your grandmother had been wandering in her mind that day, dismissed her words about Emma as unimportant, and got yourself a job. All very admirable on your part, but Glynnis didn’t know this would happen. Of course you’re correct about that, Evan.’

‘But she knew that, too, and our very smart Glynnis covered her back, so to speak.’

‘How?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing keenly, wondering what was coming next.

‘When my grandmother was in hospital in New York, last November a year ago, she told my mother to go to her apartment and remove a suitcase of letters. They were letters from your mother, as it turned out. Emma had consistently written to Glynnis over the years, and Glynnis kept the letters…just as Emma had kept hers.’

‘I see.’ Robin walked over to the window and sat down in a wingchair, his eyes thoughtful.

‘Glynnis told Mom to give the letters to me, and she impressed upon Mom that I should read them all. She was very insistent about that apparently, and just as insistent that my mother did not show them to my father, or even tell him about them.’

‘Really,’ Robin muttered. Throwing her a direct look, he asked, ‘And did Marietta give you the letters?’

‘She did, Robin, but not for a long time. She says her reason for holding onto them was because she wished to give them to me in person, and to relate face to face what Gran had told her when she was in hospital. But, in fact, Mom kept them for a whole year. She says that was because I started working at Harte’s in Knightsbridge and got involved with Gideon. She saw no urgency, she says, and decided the letters could wait. After all, I’d done what Glynnis had planned, had hoped would happen…I’d fallen right into the middle of the Harte family, and, let’s face it, in a very big way.’

‘Yes, that’s true. But when did your mother actually give you Emma’s letters to Glynnis?’

‘Last September, after the car crash. She brought them with her when she came up to see me, before she and Dad went back to New York. I read most of them while I was recovering from my broken ankle and rib.’

‘I see. And I suppose my mother’s letters were revealing perhaps?’

‘Oh yes. And I suddenly realized something crucial as I read the letters. It was this…if I hadn’t met any of you, and if Paula hadn’t found out the truth about Glynnis’s past, I would still have discovered that you were my father’s biological father. Because of those letters. That’s why Glynnis wanted me to have them. She protected her back, as I said earlier. She wanted me to know the truth about my heritage no matter what.’

‘I think you’re correct,’ Robin admitted, leaning back against the cushions, letting out a small sigh. Somehow he knew now that there was much more coming and he steeled himself.

‘That’s why she wanted me to go to London…to find my heritage.’

‘But we’ve always known that, haven’t we?’ he answered. ‘Or rather, assumed it. However, you are right about your grandmother’s method.’ Robin shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t it have been easier to simply tell your father and you the truth when she became so ill? After all, Richard Hughes was already dead. What harm could be done?’

‘Glynnis was not from my generation, or my mother’s…she came from the old school. She was afraid to tell us, most especially Dad. That’s what I believe, anyway. She didn’t want to disillusion him, to be diminished in his eyes. She was proud, and she loved Dad very much. I guess she was scared–in the way I even was–about revealing the truth to Dad.’

‘I understand what you’re saying, I do, Evan. And you’re right. Your grandmother and I grew up in a different world. A very strictured world where illegitimate children were frowned on.’

‘And so Glynnis set me up. And left it to Fate with a capital E Gran was always talking about Fate and Destiny, she believed in those things. Yet she only left it to Fate partially… because she made sure I would get my hands on those extremely revealing letters from Emma Harte.’

Robin closed his eyes, his silver head resting against the back of the wingchair. In his repose she saw his age more fully. He was, after all, eighty years old, and at this moment he looked it. Her heart went out to him. But after a moment, clearing her throat, Evan said softly, ‘Robin.’

He opened his eyes and promptly sat up. ‘I wasn’t asleep,’ he said with a slight laugh. ‘I was just pondering your words.’

She nodded, took a step closer to the chair. ‘I worked it all out, you know.’ There was a pause, and then Evan finished, ‘She was sending me to you, Robin.’

Not a word left his mouth, but his blue eyes turned flinty, and the look he gave her was shrewd.

‘Glynnis was so worried about you when she was ill, she needed me to come to you, and possibly my father, too. But it was mostly me she wanted in London with you.’

‘Why do you say all this?’ Robin asked, his voice rising slightly.

‘Because it’s true! Glynnis wanted you to have the grandchild you’d never had, and she didn’t want you to be alone either. When she was gone, I mean.’

Robin let out a long sigh. ‘Continue,’ he said in a low voice.

‘You never gave each other up, did you?’

There was a silence. The only sound was the clock ticking.

‘No,’ he admitted at last. ‘No, we didn’t.’ His voice was resigned.

‘You and Glynnis got back together when you were both thirty!’ Evan exclaimed. ‘And you were together for almost fifty years, weren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ Robin answered softly, ‘we were, thank God.’

‘In your own way you were like a married couple,’ Evan went on. ‘Glynnis came to London whenever she could, at least several times a year, using any excuse she could think of, and you came to New York and Connecticut. You spent all of your vacations with Glynnis, never with your wife. You came to New York when the House of Commons was in recess, and as often as you could. You were so madly in love with her you would have done anything to get her. Divorced Valerie, given up your political career, anything to be with my grandmother always.’ Evan gazed at him, her eyes warm.

‘But Glynnis loved you so much, Robin, she wouldn’t let you do that, ruin yourself in politics. It was different in those days, the fifties, and there could have been a scandal about her. And so you…compromised. That’s what she called it…The Compromise. You stayed in your marriages, so as not to hurt Richard or Valerie. But you loved only each other and you spent as much time together as you could.’

After a few minutes, Robin murmured, ‘This is too much–’

‘Robin, Robin, don’t! It’s me, your grandchild, out of your loins through my father. I’m not angry or upset, and you mustn’t be upset either.’

Drawing closer to him, Evan put her hand on his shoulder, and looked down into his upturned face. ‘Glynnis did something else. She left me your letters to her. Hundreds and hundreds of letters, which you wrote to her for fifty years. She kept them. In fact, she kept everything…your Christmas cards, birthday cards, the cards which came with your many gifts to her…’ Evan broke off, suddenly noticing how stricken he looked.

Bending over him, she murmured in a gentle tone, ‘Please don’t think I’m criticizing you, or Glynnis. Because I’m not. I’m happy you had each other, that you gave each other so much joy. She loved you with all of her heart, and she was loyal to you all of her life.’ Evan’s eyes were suddenly very moist and she brushed them with her hand.

When she looked at Robin she saw that tears were rolling down his face and his mouth trembled. After a split second, he said in a slightly quavering voice, ‘It’s been so hard without her. I wanted to die too…until you came to me.’

‘I know, I know,’ she soothed, her hand on his shoulder. ‘I really do understand…very few people have a love like yours.’

‘Have you read my letters to Glynnis?’ he asked, his eyes fastened intently on hers.

‘Yes, but not all of them. Mom only gave them to me the other day, when she arrived here from New York for Linnet’s wedding. There’s a huge suitcase in that cupboard over there, and it’s full of your letters. There are hundreds and hundreds of them.’

‘Did I write so many?’ he asked, and unexpectedly smiled at Evan.

She smiled back. ‘Oh yes, you did! But I only read some of the recent ones. You saw her a few days before she died, didn’t you?’

He nodded. ‘How do you know?’

‘I found the letter you sent to her in early November last year. You were coming to her. You wanted to bring her back to England. After all, you were both widowed, you could actually be together, could be married–’

‘We were married,’ he cut in, ‘but without the benefit of a piece of paper. I consider Glynnis to be the only wife I ever had.’

‘I understand,’ Evan replied softly. ‘But she was suddenly and unexpectedly so ill, wasn’t she? And she couldn’t travel…The last time you saw her was in the hospital in Manhattan.’

Robin could not speak. His grief was palpable. He took out a handkerchief, wiped his eyes, blew his nose, and tried to compose himself, trying hard to bring his swimming senses under control.

When he had recovered himself sufficiently, Evan opened her hand, showed him her palm. ‘This is for you, Grandfather.’

She rarely ever called him that, and his eyes widened as he stared up at her.

‘It was in a small envelope with your writing on it, Robin. You wrote out an address and a phone number.’

The sight of the latchkey brought a sparkle to his eyes, and the tiredness seemed to slip from his face.

‘It’s for Edwina’s house,’ Evan remarked.

‘No. Ours. Glynnis’s and mine. A lovely old mews in London. I used to borrow it from Edwina, and one day she finally agreed to sell it to me.’

‘And you bought it?’

‘Yes. For Glynnis. But the deeds have always remained in Edwina’s name. If she dies before me, it comes to you through her son Anthony, India’s father. If I die first, then it’s the same process. The house will be yours, Evan.’

Evan stood looking at him, totally silent, unable to say anything so touched was she.

He said, with a little smile, ‘That’s where I still live when I go up to London. It’s full of memories…of Glynnis…of our years together.’ The tears came again, and he searched for his handkerchief, wiped his eyes. ‘Do forgive a foolish old man, my dear.’

‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ Evan reassured him, and began to laugh. ‘Look at me, I’m crying too, and ruining all my make-up. And it’s Linnet’s wedding in an hour.’

‘I’m very aware of that. I must go and find your father.’

‘Your son, Robin, your son by Glynnis.’

Nodding, he gave her the benefit of a huge smile. ‘We loved each other so much, and we pulled it off, you know. All those years we pulled it off, Evan, and we never hurt anybody.’

I wonder about that, Evan thought, then pushed the thought away.

He handed her the latchkey. ‘It was Glynnis’s. I gave it to her. And now it’s yours, Evan. Take it.’

She did, and then walked with him to the door. ‘I’ll drive over next week with the suitcase of your letters,’ she told him. ‘But I wonder…could I keep some of the photographs? The two of you were so gorgeous when you were young, you looked like movie stars.’

‘Glynnis. Not I,’ he protested.

‘Yes, you too. Anyway, I’ll bring your letters over to Lackland Priory.’

‘No. Glynnis wanted you to have them, and you should.’ Robin stared into her blue-grey eyes, and added, ‘If you wish, I will give you Glynnis’s letters to me. She wrote to me every week from 1950 until her last year.’ He paused, and the look he gave her was odd, even worried, before he added softly, ‘But I think they might be a little…hot, shall we say.’

Evan burst out laughing. ‘I’ll bet! Because some of yours certainly are! Red hot.’ Her eyes were sparkling as she went on, ‘And why not? Yours was quite a love story, incredible really, Robin.’

Now she came into his outstretched arms and he held her close to him, thinking how like his Glynnis she was sometimes. ‘Glynnis was so worried about dying on me, leaving me on my own. We weren’t together all the time, but what we had over all those years was something really quite…magnificent. Magnificent.’