A Dangerous Undertaking

‘Oh, do hurry and open it,’ she said. ‘Is there a message?’

Margaret suppressed her own curiosity in order to take off her coat and boots and put them tidily away as she always did; servants or no, it was a habit she would find hard to break. Then she carefully untied the ribbon, lifted the lid of the box and pulled aside its cotton lining. ‘Oh!’ Carefully she drew out a magnificent open-skirted gown in a heavy ivory satin. The bodice was square-necked with three-quarter sleeves which ended in a froth of pleated lace. The hem and neckline and the stiffened stomacher were heavily beaded in a rose pattern. ‘Oh, it is exquisite!’

‘A wedding-gown,’ Kate whispered in awe, while Margaret delved into the box and drew out a piece of paper, half expecting a note from Roland saying he had decided against the gown she had chosen in Ely. It would explain his cursory glance at the material. But why had he not said anything at the time? And where could he have come by such a lavish creation? She found herself wondering if it had been meant for someone else, but she pushed the thought from her; she did not want to think about that.

‘What does it say?’ Kate asked eagerly.

‘It is from Great-Uncle Henry,’ Margaret said, stifling her disappointment that it had not come from her groom. ‘He says my mother was to have worn it at her wedding, but there was no wedding, not in Winterford at any rate. I didn’t know that; she never told me. Oh, poor Mama! He says it has been in a trunk in a box-room at Sedge House all these years. He sends it with his felicitations.’

‘Oh, how romantical! Try it on, do! Does it have a petticoat?’

Margaret looked in the box. There was a white silk petticoat and a bonnet of matching slipper-satin, trimmed with ribbon. She slipped out of her clothes and put them all on. They fitted perfectly, as she had known they would. She and her mother had been very alike, both in looks and figure. She stood before the long pier-glass, swaying this way and that, admiring the richness of the fabric and noticing the brightness of her eyes and the colour the cold air had put into her cheeks. Suddenly she felt happy. How could anyone clothed in such a wedding-dress not be happy?

‘Oh, let’s go and find Roland and tell him,’ Kate said.

‘No!’ Margaret said suddenly. ‘I want it to be a surprise.’

‘Oh, what a lovely idea! I won’t say a word, I promise.’

Margaret took the finery off and hung it carefully in the mahogany wardrobe and dressed again in her simple blue merino; then they went downstairs to find that Roland had put the idea of a double wedding to Lady Pargeter and obtained her agreement. What he would not countenance was that Henry Capitain should be invited to the ceremony.

‘But he is my only relative,’ Margaret said, feeling that the least she could do was to allow her great-uncle to see her in the gown. ‘Surely it cannot do any harm?’

‘I am surprised you can suggest it,’ he said. ‘You know what he is like.’

‘I know he is a little ill-groomed, but I am sure he would dress suitably for such an occasion.’

‘And bring his doxy with him, I don’t doubt.’

‘You could ask him not to.’

‘No,’ Roland said, so firmly that Margaret knew further argument was useless. She said no more, but made up her mind to write a little thank-you note and have it sent to Sedge House.

She saw little of Roland in the next few days because he was busy directing the digging of a new drain and the building of a flood barrier, but he did return to accompany Charles and the girls skating.

The huge field was two or three miles away and the girls went in the sled, while the two men rode. The narrow roads were crowded as everyone from miles around converged on the area which had been set aside for the skating. Men with brooms had been out sweeping it free of debris and already there were people on the ice, young and old, competent and novice. There were friends of Roland’s there, who came over to speak to him, asking him if he intended to enter for the championship.

‘I’m a little rusty,’ he said, laughing. ‘But why not?’ Then, turning to take Margaret’s hand, he asked, ‘May I present you to Mistress Donnington, who is staying at the Manor with us and is shortly to become my wife?’

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