Till Death do us Part

Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.

 

Today however we are at Glynes, the grand Georgian family seat of the Chetwynds in Wiltshire, and the home of Lettice’s parents, the presiding Viscount and Countess of Wrexham and the heir, their eldest son Leslie and his wife Arabella. Lettice is visiting her family home to broach a most delicate subject about her forthcoming wedding, a subject which has caused a scene between Lettice and her mother.

 

For nearly a year Lettice had been patiently awaiting the return of her then beau, Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, after being sent to Durban by his mother, Lady Zinnia in an effort to destroy their relationship which she wanted to end so that she could marry Selwyn off to his cousin, Pamela Fox-Chavers. Having been made aware by Lady Zinnia in October last year that during the course of the year, whilst Lettice had been biding her time, waiting for Selwyn’s eventual return, he had become engaged to the daughter of a Kenyan diamond mine owner whilst in Durban, Lettice had fled Lady Zinnia’s Park Lane mansion. She returned to Cavendish Mews and milled over her options over a week as she reeled from the news. Then, after that, she knew exactly what to do to resolve the issues raised by Lady Zinnia’s unwelcome news about her son. Taking extra care in her dress, she took herself off to the neighbouring upper-class London suburb of Belgravia and paid a call upon Sir John Nettleford-Hughes.

 

Old enough to be her father, wealthy Sir John was still a bachelor, and according to London society gossip intended to remain so, so that he might continue to enjoy his dalliances with a string of pretty chorus girls of Lettice’s age and younger. As an eligible man in a aftermath of the Great War when such men were a rare commodity, with a vast family estate in Bedfordshire, houses in Mayfair, Belgravia and Pimlico and Fontengil Park in Wiltshire, quite close to the Glynes estate belonging to her parents, Lettice’s mother, Lady Sadie, invited him as a potential suitor to her 1922 Hunt Ball, which she used as a marriage market for Lettice. Selwyn rescued Lettice from the horror of having to entertain him, and Sir John left the ball early in a disgruntled mood with a much younger partygoer. Lettice reacquainted herself with Sir John at an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party held by Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton at their Scottish country estate, Gossington, a baronial Art and Crafts castle near the hamlet of Kershopefoot in Cumberland. To her surprise, Lettice found Sir John’s company rather enjoyable. She then ran into him again at the Portland Gallery’s autumn show where she found him yet again to be a pleasant and attentive companion for much of the evening.

 

Sir John also made a proposition to her that night: he offered her his hand in marriage should she ever need it. More like a business arrangement than a marriage proposal, Sir John offered Lettice the opportunity to enjoy the benefits of his large fortune, be chatelain of all his estates and continue to have her interior design business, under the conditions that she agree to provide him with an heir, and that he be allowed to discreetly carry on his affairs in spite of their marriage vows. He even suggested that Lettice might be afforded the opportunity to have her own extra marital liaisons if she were discreet about them. Turning up unannounced on his doorstep, she agreed to his proposal after explaining that the understanding between she and Selwyn was concluded. However, in an effort to be discreet, at Lettice’s insistence, they did not make their engagement public until the new year: after the dust about Selwyn’s break of his and Lettice’s engagement settled. Sir John motored across from Fontengil Park in the days following New Year 1925 and he and Lettice announced their engagement before the Viscount and Lady Sadie the Countess, Leslie, Arabella and the Viscount’s sister Eglantyne (known by all the Chetwynd children affectionally as Aunt Egg). The announcement received somewhat awkwardly by the Viscount initially, until Lettice assured him that her choice to marry Sir John has nothing to do with undue influence or mistaken motivations, but perhaps the person most put out by the news is Aunt Egg who is not a great believer in the institution of marriage, and felt Lettice was perfectly fine as a modern unmarried woman. Lady Sadie, who Lettice thought would be thrilled by the announcement of her engagement, received the news with a somewhat muted response and she discreetly slipped away after drinking a toast to the newly engaged couple with a glass of fine champagne from the Glynes wine cellar.

 

Now, six months on, plans are starting to be laid for the wedding, albeit at a somewhat glacial pace. Earlier in the day, alerted to it by the sound of raised voices echoing down the corridor, the Viscount had walked into the Glynes flower room and come across Lettice and her mother arguing bitterly, before Lettice slipped away, her face awash with tears. Several weeks ago, when Lettice and Sir John were taking tea with his younger sister, Clemance Pontefract, who as a widow, has recently returned to London and set up residence in Holland Park, Lettice suggested that Clemance might help her choose her trousseau**. Thinking that Lady Sadie’s ideas will doubtless be somewhat old fashioned and conservative when it comes to commissioning evening dresses and her wedding frock, Lettice wants to engage Clemance’s smart eye and eager willingness to please Lettice as her future sister-in-law to help her pick the trousseau she really wants. Knowing that the subject would be difficult to discuss with her mother, with whom she has a somewhat fraught relationship, she decided to approach Lady Sadie face-to-face. Unsurprisingly, Lady Sadie did not take kindly to the suggestion, any more than she did the idea that Lord Bruton’s son, Gerald, Lettice’s oldest childhood chum and best friend, who designs gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street, making Lettice’s wedding frock. In the end, Lady Sadie wouldn’t countenance the idea of Gerald making Lettice’s gown, since she felt it would be embarrassing for her youngest daughter to appear in a frock made by the son of her family friend and neighbours, Lord and Lady Bruton, as well as have Gerald as a guest at the wedding. It was this definite final pronouncement that drove Lettice away in tears. Appealing to her father to help her, being his favourite child, Lettice disclosed a secret shared with her by Sir John about his sister, indicating why she has taken such a keen interest in being involved in Lettice’s wedding plans. Clemance had a daughter born the same year as Lettice, that she and her husband lost to diphtheria when the child was twelve. Upon hearing this revelation, the Viscount agreed to talk to Lady Sadie and try and sway her to allow Clemance to be involved in the acquiring of Lettice’s trousseau, a task that is usually the preserve of the bride and her mother, but made no promises.

 

So, we find ourselves in the sumptuous drawing room of Glynes with its grand dimensions, high ceiling and gilt Louis and Palladian style furnishings. No matter what time of day, the room is always light and airy thanks to its large full-length windows and beautiful golden yellow Georgian wallpaper decorated in a pattern of delicate blossoms and paper lanterns which seems almost to exude warmth and golden illumination. Lady Sadie is seated in her usual seat by the fireplace, whilst the Viscount cannot settle, and walks about on the thick and ornate rug that covers the parquet floor. Between them a black japanned Eighteenth Century Chinoiserie tea table stands on which sits a silver tea service and a selection of biscuits, the latter of which remain untouched as the husband and wife argue.

 

“Oh, I knew you would do this Cosmo! I just knew it!” Lady Sadie admonishes the Viscount in exasperated tones from her seat in one of the gilt Louis Quinze salon chairs, part of the fine suite in the Glynes drawing room gifted to the Viscount by his father-in-law, Lord Lansdowne. She folds her arms akimbo. “I thought I had made it quite clear to you, that you had to stay strong and not make concessions to Lettice’s wishes! The easier we make it for Lettice to marry that awful, Sir John Nettleford-Hughes, the less likely our plan for a break in their engagement will be.”

 

The Viscount cringes at the rebuke as he paces in front of his wife.

 

“Are you deliberately undermining me, Cosmo?” Lady Sadie asks in shock. “Do you actually want Lettice to marry a man closer to your age than her own, and…” She shudders. “A known philanderer?”

 

“Of course I don’t, Sadie!” the Viscount retorts hotly, turning and staring in horror at the diminutive figure of his wife, diminished by the roomy size of her chair, her own face twisted in anger. “How can you even ask?”

 

“Well, I have to wonder, Cosmo.” Lady Sadie throws her hands in the air and lifts her gaze to the ornately plastered ceiling above. “Lettice has you so perfectly wound around her little finger, just like a bandalore*, ready to be brought to heel whenever she wants!”

 

“That’s a low thing to say, Sadie, even for you when you are at your most spiteful! I don’t want this ill-fated marriage any more than you do, but I had to concede when Lettice mentioned Mrs. Pontefract’s dead daughter. Surely, you as a mother can appreciate that?”

 

Lady Sadie allows her hands to fall into her lap where she twists a white, lace trimmed handkerchief between her diamond adorned fingers. She doesn’t answer immediately, and falls silent for a few moments. Tears begin to well in her blue eyes, threatening to spill. “Now it is you who is being cruel by asking me that, Cosmo.” she finally says, her voice low and her syllables as measured as her breathing as she tries to maintain her composure. “Of course I can appreciate Mrs. Pontefract’s feelings. Have you forgotten that I lost Leonard and Lydia.” A single tear escapes each eye and slowly roll down her lightly powdered cheeks.

 

“We, lost Leonard and Lydia.” the Viscount corrects his wife, adding grim emphasis to the first word of his sentence as he utters the names of their two stillborn children – Leonard born a year after Leslie and Lydia two years before Lionel was born. “In some ways, it was perhaps the lesser of two evils that they were stillborn. At least we didn’t have the pain of knowing them, and loving them, only to then say goodbye to them like Mrs. Pontefract had to with her daughter.”

 

Once again, Lady Sadie doesn’t answer.

 

“They were my children too, Sadie.

 

Lady Sadie releases a long sigh and sniffs, dabbing her eyes. “I’m sorry, Cosmo. You’re quite right. That was unfair of me. I’m just so worried that Lettice’s marriage to Sir John will go ahead, no matter what obstacles we put in her way. She’s so headstrong and determined.”

 

“She is that, I’ll warrant, so I don’t think you acquiescing on the matter of at least meeting Sir John’s sister, and countenancing her assistance will make too much of a difference.” the Viscount remarks. “It isn’t too much of a concession. As Lettice says, it’s not like she wants to shop for her trousseau with that silly goose Margot. Sir John is around our age, so it stands to reason that this Mrs. Pontefract would be of a similar age too. She may actually prove quite useful if you don’t fancy going up to London for whatever reason, and it also stands to reason that she can take delivery of items since she is apparently permanently residing in Holland Park rather than have them being sent to Fitzroy Square*** if you aren’t in residence. The caretakers have enough to do in our absence without taking charge of numerous packages arriving at the tradesman’s entrance, not knowing whether they are correct or not. Mrs. Pontefract can check them, and deal with the tradesmen if anything is incorrect”

 

“Hhhmmm…” Lady Sadie muses, her face contorting in thought as she considers her husband’s suggestion. She picks up her teacup and takes a sip of tea before continuing, “That’s actually quite a good idea, Cosmo.”

 

“Thank you Sadie.” the Viscount remarks, surprised at his wife’s measured praise. “I thought so. Besides, you might rather like her.”

 

“Oh, I do hope not, Cosmo!” Lady Sadie retorts, returning her cup to its saucer. “I hope she is every bit as odious as her brother is. It will be awful to befriend her, only to find myself stuck in an awkward situation socially when the engagement between Lettice and her brother is broken.”

 

“If it’s broken.” the Viscount counters, eyeing his wife. “I still think we’re on a precipice here.”

 

“It will break.” Lady Sadie nods curtly. “I’ll make sure of that.”

 

“I must confess, I do think the ruse you have set, saying you will refuse to allow Bruton’s boy to make her dress is a stroke of genius, Sadie. It will sit uncomfortably in Lettice’s craw far more than this business with Mrs. Pontefract will.”

 

“And you didn’t promise her that you would change my mind?” Lady Sadie asks warily as she slips the handkerchief under the cuff of her burnt orange cardigan and pushes it up into her sleeve.

 

“I told Lettice that she should keep on your good side by attending fittings with whomever you have selected as appropriate dressmakers.” the Viscount replies. “And I didn’t let on at all that you will eventually allow young Bruton to make it.”

 

“Good!” Lady Sadie replies crisply as she smooths down her tweed skirt over her knees.

 

“But I did have to say that I’d talk to Lord Bruton about the matter.”

 

“Oh no! You aren’t really going to, are you Cosmo?” Lady Sadie whines. She sighs. “Just when I thought I had an ally, I…”

 

The Viscount sinks down into the seat next to her and raises his hands in self-defence. “No, I’m not going to, Sadie.” He looks at her earnestly. “I can be as Machiavellian as you if I choose to be, my dear, and I’m quite capable of setting my own ruse.”

 

Lady Sadie screws up her nose and looks her husband up and down doubtfully as he takes up his own teacup and settles back comfortably into the gold embroidered upholstery of his own seat, smiling smugly like the cat who ate the cream.

 

“As it happens, I have to go and see Bruton about some business in the village raised by those wittering Evans sisters.” He says, referring to the two elderly genteel gossipy spinster sisters who live in Holland House, a Seventeenth Century manor house, in Glynes village. “Geraldine Evans has a bee in her bonnet**** over the parcel of land next to their home owned by Bruton. That rumour that he’s going to sell it has raised its ugly head in the village.”

 

“Oh not again!” Lady Sadie opines.

 

“Yes again.”

 

“How many times must the poor Brutons be subjected to the indignity of idle village gossip, not least of all from the Evans sisters, who perpetrate so much of it in the first place?”

 

“My thoughts precisely, my dear Sadie. Anyway, Geraldine Evans wants me to find out if there is any truth to it, and if there is, to put in a good word for her, as she wants to buy it directly from him. So, if I am to go over to Bruton Hall for no real conceivable reason, as it will simply be whispered gossip and rumours again, at least Lettice will think I am helping her sway the making of her wedding frock.”

 

“Bravo Cosmo!” Lady Sadie claps her hands. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Perhaps you can be as Machiavellian as me when you wish.”

 

“Now, what’s all this, anyway?” the Viscount nods at a pretty oval gilt and enamel jewellery casket with a hinged lid with a diamond necklace spilling from it and a pearl bracelet and a matching pair of pearl earrings in front of it. “Why is your jewellery box down here?”

 

“Ahh…” Lady Sadie purrs. “After Lettice’s and my spat this morning, I not long ago thought of another ruse to add an additional fly to her wedding planning ointment. As a Chetwynd, she will want to wear the Wrexham Tiara for her wedding.”

 

“Well, that’s under lock and key with our coronets and other valuables for the Season at Lloyds***** up in London.”

 

“I know, but Lettice will want to wear it. Lally wore it for her wedding, so Lettice will want to follow suit. We must be firm about this, Cosmo.”

 

“About what, Sadie?”

 

“We must make excuses not to fetch it from the bank.” Sadie explains. “She doesn’t know it’s there.”

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“Ward, came across Lettice snooping through my wardrobes yesterday when I was down in the village and she all but admitted to her that she was looking for it.”

 

“And Ward didn’t tell her that it was in London?”

 

“No, she simply said that it wasn’t in the house at present. She’s the cleverest lady’s maid I’ve ever had! So, if she is looking to wear the Wrexham Tiara for her wedding, we must use it, or rather its absence, as an excuse to stall Lettice’s wedding plans and allow more time to pass.”

 

“And what if Sir John just goes and has a new one made for Lettice. We have both remarked before, that Sir John Nettleford-Hughes is richer than Croesus******. He can well afford to have a tiara made to rival the Crown Jewels.”

 

“Believe me, Cosmo, Sir John can offer Lettice the most beautiful tiara studded in diamonds, but she won’t countenance wearing it.” Lady Sadie shakes her head as she picks up her cup and sips some more of her tea. She smiles to herself before going on. “And we have you, to thank for that.”

 

“Me, Sadie?”

 

“You, Cosmo.” Lady Sadie acknowledges her husband with a sage nod. “You taught Lettice to appreciate our family history and lineage. Anything Sir John comes up with for her will be new, and I suspect more likely to be vulgar and showy, rather like that awful and German,” She sniffs in disgust. “How tasteless,” She sniffs again. “Motorcar he tears up and down our quiet country lanes in. The Wrexham Tiara with its emeralds from India, diamonds from Africa and pearls gifted to the first Viscount by King Charles II is so steeped in history that she won’t want to not wear it.”

 

“And how pray, Sadie, do you propose that we delay producing the blasted thing?”

 

“Language, Cosmo!” Lady Sadie chides.

 

“Oh, to hell with my language, infernal woman!” the Viscount barks back as his temper starts to fray. “We can’t lie to Lettice and say that we’ve lost it, or I certainly can’t, even if you can! Besides, she’s too smart for that. She won’t believe it if we tell her it’s lost.”

 

“Calm yourself, Cosmo.” Sadie replies, putting her cup down again and gesticulating for her husband to breathe. “You’re quite correct, Lettice is too smart to fall for such a clumsy lie. However, she will believe me when she finally gets up the courage to ask me, which,” She raises he diamond ring adorned right index finger. “I guarantee won’t be until after we have gone to every court dressmaker on my list, if she really does want to keep on my good side, that I’m having the Wrexham Tiara repaired for her wedding – having the stones cleaned and reset or some such.” She flits her hand about distractedly. “That takes time. The more time that passes, the more the sheen of this newly minted engagement will tarnish. It’s already starting to happen.”

 

“And how do you know that, Sadie?”

 

“Oh, just through little things, Cosmo.” Lady Sadie replies with an air of mystery and superiority. “Lettice doesn’t speak of Sir John in quite such glowing terms anymore,” She releases a satisfied sigh through her flared nostrils. “And the fact that a date for their nuptials has yet to be set, and the banns******* have not been announced, suggests the novelty of deliberately trying to upset Lady Zinnia is wearing thin and being replaced by the truth of her situation, engaged to that man. Lettice is having second thoughts. Trust me.”

 

“I suppose I must do just that,” the Viscount sighs as he gazes down upon the jewellery on the round Georgian mahogany table between them. “Although I still question your certainty about it all.”

 

Lady Sadie smiles and reaches out across the table, in front of a vase of her golden yellow roses and squeezes her husband’s forearm encouragingly. “Feelings were never your strong suit, Cosmo, but they are mine.” She assures him. “Call it women’s intuition.”

 

Lady Sadie sits back again and begins toying with the pearl bracelet on the tabletop.

 

“In the meantime, should I need to placate our youngest child, I shall do so with some of the jewellery I wore at our wedding, as a sort of,” She screws up her nose again. “Good will gesture, so as not to give away my true feelings about her marriage plans.”

 

“Let’s hope this elaborate ruse of yours works, my dear.” the Viscount acquiesces.

 

“Do you remember our wedding day?” Lady Sadie asks, picking up one of the pearl earrings in her hand.

 

“How could I forget it, Sadie my dear.” He reaches out and tenderly takes the earring, rolling the creamy sphere around in his palm, before giving it back to his wife by dropping it back into her open palm. “In spite of the fact that I was so nervous, standing there at the altar in the Glynes village chapel, waiting for you, it was one of the most precious days of my life.”

 

“Oh Cosmo!” Lady Sadie gasps, her voice cracking with emotion, as once again tears fill her eyes. “You sentimental old fool.”

 

“Thank goodness Peregrine Leighton-Jones was there at my side as my best man, keeping me calm and steadfast.” the Viscount goes on.

 

“Ahh yes! Good old Pere! I still miss him.” Lady Sadie sighs wistfully. “Another victim of that wretched Great War I still fail to see the point of.”

 

“I kept wondering whether you would ever arrive. I had almost convinced myself at one stage as I stood there, that you were going to elope with Pere.”

 

“What do mean, Cosmo?”

 

“I had convinced myself that the time of your arrival at the chapel would come and go, the guests would disperse, I’d go back to Glynes with my parents and Pere. Then Pere would make his excuses and leave, and the next thing I’d hear about either of you was that he’s whisked you off to Gretna Green********.”

 

Lady Sadie bursts out laughing loudly, the joyful sound, a rarity for her, surprising the Viscount as the emanation permeated the atmosphere around them. “What a ridiculous notion. Cosmo! Why on earth would you have imagined, firstly that I would ever elope, and secondly, I would elope with Pere, your best friend and best man of all people?”

 

“Well, I mean, I’ve never been the most handsome of men, let’s be honest, Sadie, certainly not when you compared me next to Pere. Pere was far better looking than me with his handlebar moustache********* and smart military uniform. I was simply the Viscount’s heir, the country squire’s son grown rich and pudgy off the fat of the Glynes estate. And I’m sure I wasn’t the most chivalrous of the two of us either. I’ve never been able to completely control my temper.” He snorts. “I still can’t, blast my eye**********!”

 

“Language, Cosmo!” Sadie quips again.

 

“See!” the Viscount mutters, putting his arms out pleadingly to his wife sitting opposite him. “And Pere was far smarter than me.”

 

“Oh no he wasn’t, Cosmo. I may agree with you that he might have cut a more dashing figure than you in his Life Guards’*********** uniform, and his manner may have been less gruff and more polished than yours, but you were always smarter than Pere. Pere’s father paid one thousand guineas************ to purchase him a commission in the Household Cavalry************* you know?”

 

“No, I didn’t know.”

 

“Oh yes. He did. So, I say again, he wasn’t anywhere near as smart as you were, Cosmo.”

 

“Well, he was certainly wittier and more urbane with his wonderful world travelling exploits, compared to bucolic me, who has always been more at ease on the estate talking to farmers than in a London ballroom trying to make small talk with pretty young debutantes like you, Sadie. Eglantyne was the one who inherited the ability to move through society with ease, not me.”

 

“Well, Pere may have been more worldly, but he never stood a chance against you, Cosmo. I wanted a husband who was stable, and even though he was charming, and knew how to sweep me off my feet with a grand and romantic gesture, I always knew Pere had a wandering eye, and when the eye wanders, the romance ceases. I did try to warn Evelyn about him when she announced her engagement to Pere, but she didn’t listen, much to her later regret. Pere would have broken my heart, over and over again, had I married him, just as he did Evelyn’s. But you, Cosmo,” Sadie drops the earring back on the table and reaches out and clasps her husband’s bigger weathered right hand between her smaller, soft white ones and rubs it in an intimate and comforting gesture that makes him smile. “The furthest your eye would ever stray, would be to the nearest head of Hereford************** at the County Cattle Show.”

 

“How romantic you make me sound, Sadie.” the Viscount mutters dryly.

 

“Oh, don’t be an old fool, Cosmo.” Sadie says, rubbing his hands more vigorously in a show of solidarity with him. “I don’t mean it to sound quite like that. I wanted a full time husband, not a philanderer, someone I could love with all my heart and grow old with, someone I could trust implicitly. Pere would never have been any of those things. Did I not turn up at the church at the correct time, and walk down that aisle towards you?”

 

“You did, Sadie.” the Viscount agrees with a snort of derision at his own foolishness, a smile breaking across his face, lightening it, as he looks across at his wife. “And you were a vision in white satin and lace. I couldn’t believe my luck. At moments like these, I sometimes still can’t quite believe it.”

 

“Even after all these years of marriage?”

 

The Viscount nods.

 

“My father was determined that no cost should be spared for my wedding gown,” Lady Sadie muses. “So, my mother commissioned Worth*************** to make it for me. I know it was frowned upon when I smiled walking up the aisle****************, but I just couldn’t help myself. I was a beautiful bride in the wedding gown of my dreams, marrying the man I knew I would be happy to spend the rest of my life with. Pere would have broken my heart, but as we know Cosmo, you always do the right thing.”

 

“I Cosmo, Fredrick, Clarence, George, James Chetwynd, take thee, Alexandrina, Sarah*****************, Elizabeth, Grace Lansdowne to be my lawfully wedded wife.”

 

“Goodness how I hate my first name!” Lady Sadie scoffs, rolling her eyes as she speaks. “I’ve never liked it. It’s so… so…”

 

“Pompous?” the Viscount chuckles.

 

“I was going to say old-fashioned,” Lady Sadie chuckles good-naturedly as she corrects her husband. “But yes, it is rather pompous too. Of course that’s hardly surprising, considering my father made an art form out of pomposity. Naming me after Queen Victoria****************** was more than an act of patriotism for him. It was his way to make me more noble than our esteemed and long lineage already made me.”

 

“He always made me feel inferior against every other suitor of yours.” the Viscount shook his head. “The dull and unworldly Viscount’s son from Wiltshire who couldn’t dance…”

 

“He was right about that.” Lady Sadie confesses with a chuckle. “You dance like an elephant with two left feet.”

 

The Viscount chuckles too before going on, “And who had no witty repartee. Another reason why I was certain that you were going to marry Pere.”

 

“No, Cosmo. There was never any question in my mind. Left feet or not, you were always the one for me. I would have eloped with you if you’d asked me to.” She smiles and squeezes the Viscount’s hand between her own. “But it wouldn’t have been right, and you always do what is right. And in the end, between us, we wore my father down and we didn’t have to. Instead we did it properly, before all the people we loved.” She sighs happily. “To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer,”

 

“Luckily you haven’t been subjected to the latter, my dear Sadie.”

 

“In sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; and I promise to be faithful to thee until death do us part.”

 

*A bandalore is a toy with an automatically winding cord by which it is brought back to the hand when thrown, and is the archaic term for what we know today as a yo-yo. Yo-yos were introduced to England during the late Eighteenth Century, coinciding with their popularity in France and other parts of Europe. They were known as "bandalores" or "quizzes" in England. A painting of Prince George IV (later King George IV) playing with a yo-yo further popularized the toy in the fashionable circles of England.

 

**A trousseau refers to the wardrobe and belongings of a bride, including her wedding dress or similar clothing such as day and evening dresses.

 

***Fitzroy Square is a Georgian square in London, England. It is the only one in the central London area known as Fitzrovia. The square is one of the area's main features, this once led to the surrounding district to be known as Fitzroy Square or Fitzroy Town[1] and latterly as Fitzrovia, though the nearby Fitzroy Tavern is thought to have had as much influence on the name as Fitzroy Square.

 

****The idiom "to have a bee in your bonnet" means to be overly preoccupied or obsessive about something, constantly talking or thinking about it. The phrase dates back to the early Sixteenth Century, with early mentions of "head full of bees". The addition of "bonnet" evolved later, possibly relating to the large bonnet worn by beekeepers.

 

*****The origins of Lloyds Bank date from 1765, when button maker John Taylor and Quaker iron producer and dealer Sampson Lloyd set up a private banking business in Dale End, Birmingham. The first branch office opened in Oldbury, some six miles west of Birmingham, in 1864. The association with the Taylor family ended in 1852 and, in 1865, Lloyds & Co. converted into a joint-stock company known as Lloyds Banking Company Ltd. Through a series of mergers, including Cunliffe, Brooks in 1900, the Wilts. and Dorset Bank in 1914 and, by far the largest, the Capital and Counties Bank in 1918, Lloyds emerged to become one of the "Big Four" clearing banks in the United Kingdom. By 1923, Lloyds Bank had made some fifty takeovers, one of which was the last private firm to issue its own banknotes—Fox, Fowler and Company of Wellington, Somerset. Lloyds merged with the Trustee Savings Bank in 1995 and operated as Lloyds TSB Bank plc from 1999 to 2013. In January 2009, it became a key subsidiary of Lloyds Banking Group following the acquisition of HBOS by Lloyds TSB Group. The bank's operational headquarters are in London, with additional offices in Wales and Scotland, and it also manages office complexes, brand headquarters, and data centres in Birmingham, Yorkshire, Leeds, Sheffield, Halifax, and Wolverhampton.

 

******The idiom “richer than Croesus” means very wealthy. This term alludes to Croesus, the legendary King of Lydia and supposedly the richest man on earth. The simile was first recorded in English in 1577.

 

*******The banns of marriage is a public announcement made in a church, especially in the United Kingdom, that two people are going to get married in their local parish church.

 

********Gretna Green is a parish in the southern council area of Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland, close to the town of Gretna, on the Scottish side of the English-Scottish border. Gretna's principal claim to fame arose in 1753 when an Act of Parliament, Lord Hardwicke's Marriage Act, was passed in England, which provided that consent to the marriage had to be given by the parents if both parties were not at least 21 years old. The romantic Scots did not adopt this law and the handfasting ceremonies (as they were known) continued. When knowledge of this difference reached the ears of the young lovers from over the border in England, it wasn’t long before they began eloping to marry in Gretna. The blacksmith in Gretna was authorised to conduct the wedding, simply because anyone in Scotland could conduct a handfasting ceremony. It just happened that in Gretna Green the first building over the border was a blacksmiths’ smithy. Weddings took place in the workshop, while the blacksmith and his men continued their work. The first notable ‘Blacksmith Priest’, Joseph Paisley was not a blacksmith but adopted this title and since then all these marriage men inherited the title of ‘Blacksmith Priest’.

 

*********Handlebar moustaches, particularly lengthy and upwardly curved, were favoured by military figures in the Victorian era, and were seen as a symbol of strength and discipline.

 

**********Blast my eye(s) or blast your eye(s) is an old fashioned English slang term, often used by the upper-classes as an exclamation of irritation, impatience or annoyance.

 

***********The Life Guards is the most senior regiment of the British Army and part of the Royal Household Cavalry, along with The Blues and Royals.

 

************The guinea was a coin, minted in Great Britain between 1663 and 1814, that contained approximately one-quarter of an ounce of gold. The name came from the Guinea region in West Africa, from where much of the gold used to make the coins was sourced. It was the first English machine-struck gold coin, originally representing a value of twenty shillings in sterling specie, equal to one pound, but rises in the price of gold relative to silver caused the value of the guinea to increase, at times to as high as thirty shillings. From 1717 to 1816, its value was officially fixed at twenty-one shillings. After the guinea coin ceased to circulate, the guinea continued in use as a unit of account worth twenty-one shillings (£1.05 in decimalised currency). The guinea had an aristocratic overtone, so professional fees, and prices of land, horses, art, bespoke tailoring, furniture, white goods and other "luxury" items were often quoted in guineas until a couple of years after decimalisation in 1971. The guinea was used in a similar way in Australia until that country converted to decimal currency in 1966, after which it became worth $2.10.

 

************Before the Great War, it was common for upper-class boys to receive military training from a young age, while lower-class boys typically wouldn't have access to such training. It was very difficult and expansive to get into military academies. You needed money and connections, which the lower classes of society typically didn't have. And without being trained in a military academy, it would be very difficult to become an officer. British society was also very classist, elitist and hierarchical. Upper-class people were traditionally thought to be naturally better suited for leadership positions in all sectors of society, including the military. That's why upper-class men typically served as officers, while it was very difficult for lower-class men to be anything other than rank and file soldiers. This was actually one of the major criticisms about how the British Army handled World War I, and that's why you didn't see as many people with titles among the top brass in the British Army in the Second World War. Up until 1871, the purchase of officer commissions in the British Army was a common practice through most of its history.

 

*************The Hereford is a British breed of beef cattle originally from Herefordshire in the West Midlands of England. It was the result of selective breeding from the mid-eighteenth century by a few families in Herefordshire, beginning some decades before the noted work of Robert Bakewell.

 

**************Charles Frederick Worth was an English fashion designer who founded the House of Worth, one of the foremost fashion houses of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries. He is considered by many fashion historians to be the father of haute couture. Worth is also credited with revolutionising the business of fashion. Established in Paris in 1858, his fashion salon soon attracted European royalty, and where they led monied society followed. An innovative designer, he adapted 19th-century dress to make it more suited to everyday life, with some changes said to be at the request of his most prestigious client Empress Eugénie. He was the first to replace the fashion dolls with live models in order to promote his garments to clients, and to sew branded labels into his clothing; almost all clients visited his salon for a consultation and fitting – thereby turning the House of Worth into a society meeting point. By the end of his career, his fashion house employed over one thousand two hundred people and its impact on fashion taste was far-reaching.

 

***************In the Victorian era, it was generally frowned upon for brides to smile during the church ceremony. This was a reflection of broader societal attitudes towards facial expressions, particularly for women. Smiles, especially broad or "vulgar" smiles, were often seen as frivolous or even inappropriate for a serious occasion like a wedding, which was meant to convey solemnity and respect. Additionally, the notion of a "serene" or "tranquil" expression, particularly for women, was highly valued, symbolizing femininity and grace.

 

****************The diminutive of Sarah is Sadie, and that is where Lady Sadie gets her name from.

 

*****************Queen Victoria’s real name was Alexandrina Victoria after one of her godparents, Tsar Alexander I of Russia, and Victoria after her mother, Princess Victoria of Saxe-Coburg-Saalfeld, who became the Duchess of Kent when she married Prince Edward, Duke of Kent. Additional names proposed by her parents – Georgina, Georgiana, Charlotte and Augusta, were dropped on the instructions of the then Prince Regent, later George IV.

 

This detail of a grand Georgian interior may appear like something out of a historical stately country house, but it is in fact part of my 1:12 miniatures collection and includes items I have collected as an adult, as well as one that was especially made for me.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The gilt Louis Quatorze chairs and the gilded Regency swan legged table are made by the high-end miniature furniture maker, Bespaq.

 

The beautiful gold and bronze decorated black chinoiserie screen in the background is a very special 1:12 miniature screen created especially for me, and there is no other like it anywhere else in the world. It was handmade and decorated over a twelve month period for me as a Christmas gift two years ago by miniature artisan Tim Sidford as a thanks for the handmade Christmas baubles I make him every year. Tim’s miniature works are truly amazing! You can see some of his handmade decorated interiors using upcycled Playmobil, found objects and 1:12 miniatures here: www.flickr.com/photos/timsidford/albums/72157624010136051/

 

On the table, Lady Sadie’s jewellery casket is in reality an Eighteenth Century miniature trinket made of gold and enamel. It is so dainty. The lid opens and one could store something incredibly small in it (like a handful of diamond chips), and there is a loop (hidden at the back) which allows it to be strung upon a chain. I picked this piece up from an antique dealer in London many years ago. Lady Sadie’s jewellery is also not all that appears, well some of it is. Lady Sadie’s sparking “diamond” necklace is made of tiny strung faceted silver beads. It came as part of an artisan jewellery box from a specialist doll house supplier when I was a teenager. The pearls on the other hand are all real seed pearls, and the bracelet is strung on strands of silk.

 

Also, on the table stands a Limoges miniature vase featuring a blue flower. Stamped on its base with a green Limoges stamp, it dates from the 1950s. The yellow roses are made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The gilt edged floral teacups and saucers come from a miniatures specialist stockist on E-Bay.

 

The silver tea set and biscuit barrel in the foreground has been made with great attention to detail, and comes from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces. The wonderful selection of biscuits on offer were also made by Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering.

Done