Flora gave Aurelia a brief history of the endless dances, dinner parties and soirées she’d attended over the past two months.
‘Yes, yes’ – Aurelia flicked the detail away with her hand – ‘but what I really want to hear about is Freddie Soames.’
‘Oh yes, Freddie.’ Flora rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a leading light on the London social circuit.’
‘I know that, but I want to hear about the two of you.’
‘There is no “the two of us”.’
‘Really, Flora, I may be tucked away in the country, but even I’ve heard the gossip.’
‘He is nothing to me, really, Aurelia.’
‘I think you are being coy. London is awash with how he is courting you. Everyone is saying he is about to propose.’
‘London can say what it likes.’
‘Flora, he’s a viscount, no less! And will one day be an earl!’
‘That’s as may be. But I will never marry for a title, you know that.’
‘Not even for vast tracts of fertile Hampshire land and a tiara? You do know he’s coming tomorrow? He’s a distant cousin to the Vaughans – once removed, whatever that means.’
‘I didn’t know. But then, I’ve thrown all his letters on the fire.’
‘Flora! Almost every woman who came out with me only married their current husband because they couldn’t have Freddie. Not only is he rich, but he’s devilishly handsome to boot. And there he is, at your feet!’
The devil is an apt comparison, thought Flora with a sigh.
‘He refused the wedding invitation when we first sent it out,’ Aurelia continued. ‘Then, when he heard you were my chief bridesmaid, he wrote to Lady Vaughan to accept. Are you sure you’re not a little in love with him?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Oh, well, I am disappointed. I was hoping you were in the midst of a full-scale love affair and I’d be the first to know all the details.’
‘There are simply no details to report.’
‘Well, could you pretend? At least for tomorrow.’
‘No,’ said Flora with a laugh. ‘Now, may I see your wedding dress?’
That evening, much to Flora’s relief, the groom had been banished from the house and was staying with the Sackville-Wests at Knole, situated not far from High Weald. Supper was provided for the bridal party in the long dining room, where hundreds of candles had been lit in the chandeliers. Flora had already met the other bridesmaids in London and, as socially adept as she had become on such occasions, her mind disengaged as she did her best to make small talk.
Her mother looked happier than she’d ever seen her, and even her father seemed jovial tonight. His favourite daughter had netted the fish that he’d been so eager to catch for her; he had sacrificed their family home to ensure it.
She was glad when the bride-to-be announced she was retiring and took Flora upstairs with her.
‘This is my last night of sleeping alone,’ Aurelia said as she sat in front of her dressing table and Flora helped her to comb out her long blonde hair.
‘Really? I thought that once one was married, one was able to sleep alone as often as one wants,’ Flora commented dryly. ‘Certainly Mr and Mrs Keppel sleep separately.’
‘One can hardly question that.’
‘What do you mean?’ Flora knew very well, but wanted to hear it from her sister’s lips.
‘Well, can you imagine being poor Mr Keppel? Everyone in London knows about Alice and the King. You must too, surely?’
‘Certainly they are close friends, yes.’ Flora’s face betrayed nothing.
‘You can’t be so naive as to believe that they are merely friends? Everybody knows that—’
‘Everybody knows what they want to know. I live under their roof every day, and I have seen nothing inappropriate about the relationship. Besides, how could Mr George possibly condone what you are implying? He is a man of great pride and integrity, and Mrs Keppel adores him.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do. And like Mrs Keppel, I couldn’t give a fig for tittle-tattle. It’s like mist, with no substance, that swiftly drifts on.’
‘Well, Mrs Keppel and the King’s “mist” hangs over London like a fog.’ Their eyes met in the mirror and Aurelia’s expression softened. ‘Let us forget imperfect marriages and concentrate on one that I hope will be as perfect as I can make it.’ She stood up from the stool and walked towards the bed. Flora pulled back the blankets and helped her into it.
‘Goodnight.’ Flora kissed her gently on the forehead then got into her own bed and turned out the lamp.
‘Flora?’ Aurelia’s voice sounded small in the vast darkness of the room.
‘Yes?’
‘Do you think . . . it will hurt?’
Flora’s heart lurched at the thought of the intimacy her sister was alluding to. She paused before she replied. ‘To be truthful, I don’t know. But I believe that God is good, and wouldn’t make us suffer to show a man our love. Or to give him children.’
‘I have heard stories.’
‘That is just gossip again.’
‘I want to please him.’
‘I am sure you will. Just try not to be afraid. I hear that is the key.’
‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Thank you. Goodnight again, dear sister. I love you.’
‘And I you.’ Both women closed their eyes and went to sleep, dreaming of being embraced by the same man.
‘I am ready. How do I look?’
Flora looked at her sister, the cream lace of her gown delicate against her peachy skin, the Vaughan tiara sparkling atop her golden curls. ‘Absolutely radiant.’ Flora smiled and handed her a spray of deep red roses.
‘Thank you, darling sister. So,’ Aurelia breathed, ‘it is time to go.’
‘Yes. Papa is waiting for you at the foot of the stairs.’
‘Wish me luck.’ Aurelia reached out for Flora’s hand and squeezed it.
‘Good luck, my darling.’
Aurelia walked towards the door of the bedroom, then turned back. ‘It was you alone who convinced me to make this day possible. And I will never forget it.’
As she left the room, Flora glanced back at her reflection in the mirror and saw the pain and guilt that was written across her face.
The old church on the estate was packed to the brim with four hundred guests, as the bride, her father and the bridesmaids walked into the small lobby at the back.
‘Flora,’ whispered Aurelia, as her long train was carefully arranged behind her, ‘is he there? Can you look?’