Voice of the Heart. Barbara Taylor Bradford
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Early in January of that year, three months before Kim’s twenty-first birthday, their father had announced he planned to give a birthday party for Kim at Langley Castle in March. He also explained that he fully intended to do more entertaining in London than was his usual habit, during this important and significant year when his only son and hen-came of age. In essence, the Earl made it perfectly clear, he was determined to launch Kim into London society in the manner only fitting for a man of his standing. Francesca had once again viewed the London house with concern, worried about its dilapidated condition and disreputable appearance, in view of her father’s plans for Kim. She had immediately launched another highly voluble campaign for its refurbishing, but to her surprise her father had been coldly adamant in his refusal to accede to her wishes. She had told him angrily, and in no uncertain terms, that he was not only being cavalier in his attitude, but downright unfair to Kim. He had shrugged, uninterested in her opinion and unmoved by her words, and he told her, with unusual firmness, never to broach the subject again. It was then she decided to take the matter into her own hands, and risk the consequences of her father’s disapproval.
Francesca owned a diamond ring, an heirloom passed down through generations of women on the maternal side of the family. She had inherited it upon her mother’s death, and for years it had reposed in their bank vault in London, along with other pieces of jewellery and a seventeenth-century diamond tiara which had been worn by successive Countesses of Langley on State occasions in Westminster Abbey, all part of the family trust. Francesca had taken her ring to a leading dealer in antique jewellery, who had promptly offered to purchase it for a thousand pounds.
When he heard about this decisive and unprecedented action on the part of his daughter, who was then only eighteen, the Earl had been outraged. However, since the ring belonged to Francesca, and was not part of the Langley Trust, he could merely voice his objections not act upon them. Finally, Francesca’s logical reasoning and persuasiveness, not inconsiderable, had brought him round, if only to a degree. Realizing she had engaged in an enterprise that threatened his authority, and knowing she had acted presumptuously, Francesca had been astute enough to ask her father’s permission to use the money for the redecoration of the house, it being his property.
The Earl had given his blessing, albeit reluctantly, believing it to be a ridiculous extravagance. Later he did confess he thought her gesture was admirable and touching. Kim had been overwhelmed by her unselfishness, but, understanding her obstinate nature, he had not wasted time protesting, and by then it was already too late. He had thanked her profusely and then shown his appreciation by plunging into the transformation of the house as energetically and enthusiastically as she.
There was barely enough money to do everything required, and Francesca portioned it out in the most practical way, stretching the thousand pounds as far as she could. She had the roof and the exterior walls repaired, the interior walls replastered wherever this was necessary, and she put in new pipes and electrical wiring. The remainder of the money from the ring was used for what she termed ‘my cosmetic job’, and it was exactly that. The scuffed parquet floors in the dining room, the library and the drawing room were refinished and polished; the wall-to-wall carpets in the bedrooms and the upstairs study were shampooed; and the draperies and slipcovers still in good repair were dry-cleaned. Francesca threw away the worn Oriental carpet which had lain on the dining room floor since ‘spendthrift Teddy’s’ day, and the slipcovers on the furniture in the drawing room quickly followed suit. The Aubusson carpet in this room was sent to a restorer of old tapestries and rugs, where it was hand-cleaned and painstakingly repaired. To Francesca’s delight it came back looking like the lovely museum piece it was. The Hepplewhite and Sheraton furniture in the two reception rooms, family heirlooms and valuable, were also repaired and refinished to their original beauty.
To save money, Francesca and Kim undertook the painting themselves. Wearing old clothes, surrounded by ladders and buckets, and amidst peals of laughter, the two of them happily set about the task, splashing as much paint on each other as on the walls. But they succeeded in doing a relatively professional job, working down from the upper floors to the drawing and dining rooms. Francesca selected fir green for the dining room, repeating the colour of the leather upholstery on the Hepplewhite chairs, and used pristine white paint for the doors, chair rail, and mouldings to offset the dark green walls. The drawing room, which she and Kim had always thought looked barren and cold, acquired a wholly new appearance when the grubby ivory walls were washed with a dark coral paint that was almost terra cotta in tone. Her only purchases, other than the paint, were yards and yards of moss green velvet for new curtains and slipcovers in the drawing room, white damask for the dining room curtains, various pieces of coloured silk for cushions, and new shades for the lamps.
Francesca’s father had a great sense of fair play, and when he at last viewed the finished results he was quick to congratulate her on the miracle she had performed, and his pride in her knew no bounds. The family heirlooms were shown to advantage for the first time in years, and he also had to admit that her improvements had given the house a new graciousness, whilst enhancing its actual value as well. The Earl conceded it was more valuable than ever before, and could readily be turned into cash, being neither entailed nor part of the trust. It struck him that Francesca had shown great foresight, and he determined to repay the thousand pounds as soon as possible. That May, on her nineteenth birthday, he presented her with the gold filigree and topaz necklace which had been made for the Sixth Countess of Langley in 1760. However, this was only on loan to her until his death, when it would pass to Kim, since it was part of the trust.
Now, as she stood in the doorway of the drawing room on this Saturday evening in February, a year later, Francesca smiled with pleasure. The room looked truly beautiful. Kim had lighted the fire an hour earlier and the logs were crackling brightly in the huge carved oak fireplace, the sparks flying merrily up the chimney. He had also drawn the curtains to shut out the depressing drizzle and dampness of the cold evening, and turned on the leaf-green Chinese jade lamps shaded in cream silk.
The atmosphere was inviting and the lovely old furniture gleamed in the refracted fight. The coral-tinted walls made the perfect backdrop for the classical Hepplewhite Pembroke tables, a large Sheraton bookcase with glass doors, made of mahogany inlaid with fruitwoods, and for those bucolic English landscapes brushstroked in variegated greens and blues. These were now most effectively set off by their newly-gilded wood frames, enterprisingly touched up by Kim with a pot of gold-leaf paint. Rafts of the new moss-green velvet rippled at the three stately windows, and covered two large sofas and four armchairs, and this verdant colour added to the richness of the scheme. The green sofas were enlivened with cream, coral and blue cushions, which Francesca had made from the remnants of silk, whilst her great-grandmother’s collection of Meissen and Wedgwood ornaments introduced additional fragile colour accents on the wood surfaces.
After another admiring glance, Francesca moved briskly across the Aubusson carpet, heaped more logs on the fire, plumped up the cushions, checked the cigarette boxes and then hurried back to the dining room to finish the table she had started earlier that evening. She took four white linen napkins from the Hepplewhite sideboard and placed one at each setting, put out several silver ashtrays and a silver condiment set, and added wine and water glasses, moving rapidly around the long oval table. When she stood back to regard her handiwork she suddenly wished she had some flowers for a centrepiece. But they were so expensive at this time of year and quickly died, and the two four-arm silver candelabra were certainly elegant with their tall white candles. She decided the table looked quite beautiful as it was and did not need any further embellishment.