I Know What You’re Thinking

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.

 

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 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. Fleeing Lady Zinnia’s Park Lane mansion, Lettice returned to Cavendish Mews and milled over her options over a week as she reeled from the news. Then, after that week, she knew exactly what to do to resolve the unpleasant 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.

 

Lettice is now engaged to Sir John Nettleford Hughes. Old enough to be her father, wealthy Sir John, according to London society gossip enjoys 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 are 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. Although she did not become engaged to him then, Lettice did reacquaint herself with Sir John at an amusing Friday to Monday long weekend party held by mutual friends Sir John and Lady Gladys Caxton at their Scottish country estate in 1924. To her surprise, Lettice found Sir John’s company rather enjoyable. She then ran into him again later that year at the Portland Gallery’s autumn show in Soho, 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. When Lettice’s understanding with Selwyn Spencely, son of the Duke of Walmsford, fell apart, Lettice agreed to Sir John’s proposal.

 

Now, almost a year and a half on from their official announcement, plans are being laid for the wedding, albeit at a somewhat glacial pace. So it is that today we find Lettice out shopping with Sir John’s widowed sister, Clementine (known preferably now by the more cosmopolitan Clemance) Pontefract. On an earlier visit to Clemance, when Lettice and Sir John were taking tea with his younger sister, Lettice suggested that Clemance might help her choose her trousseau*. Thinking that her own mother, Lady Sadie’s, ideas will doubtless be somewhat old fashioned and conservative for Lettice’s modern tastes when it comes to commissioning evening dresses and her wedding frock, she wanted to engage Clemance’s smart and fashion conscious eye and eager willingness to please Lettice as her future sister-in-law to help her pick the trousseau she really want. Since then, Clemance has taken a more active role in trying to get things moving along. Thus, we find the two ladies at Gunter’s** at numbers 7 to 8*** Berkley Square**** where they are looking at wedding cakes.

 

“Oh, Lettice my dear!” Clemance enthuses as they stand before a lace cloth draped table covered in elaborately decorated cakes. “Isn’t this one delightful?”

 

Lettice looks over to where Clemance is pointing. The sight of the imposing three tier wedding cake covered in a perfect snowy white shell of royal icing***** with swirls of pale yellow marzipan icing decoration and delicate golden yellow icing roses makes Lettice shudder.

 

During the General Strike****** that almost brought the nation to a standstill recently, Selwyn and Lettice were reintroduced, and she found out that Selwyn wasn’t engaged to another woman at all, as she was led to believe by Lady Zinnia, and it had all been a fabrication. This revelation has left Lettice in a terrible quandary over what to do: break her engagement with Sir John and marry the man she truly loves and has never stopped loving, or remain engaged to Sir John, preserving his honour and the good name of her own family, and settle for what she now realises is an unsatisfactory arrangement between them.

 

Clemance misinterprets the slightly anguished look that crosses Lettice’s face. “No, no of course,” she stammers with embarrassment. “That’s far too much for a smart and select, modern woman like yourself, Lettice my dear.” She smiles apologetically at Lettice before prattling on clumsily, “I had a three tier wedding cake when I married Harrison, but that was in the 1890s. Of course, fashions have changed since then. All those flounces and marzipan icing flowers are an offence to the modern eye.”

 

“Oh no,” Lettice begins to reply, the syllables getting stuck in her throat. “Clemance, I…”

 

But Clemance has already moved to an alternative. “Now this is far more in keeping with your style, I feel, Lettice my dear.” She indicates to a much smaller square cake of two tiers with trims of beautiful Lambeth piping******* and small cascades of more golden yellow marzipan flowers. “Simpler and far less showy.”

 

“It’s lovely,” Lettice replies, but she cannot hide the disappointment in her voice.

 

Lettice doesn’t want to be here, shopping for wedding cakes to be served at her future wedding, which she feels less and less satisfied with. When she had first agreed to Marry Sir John, the idea that he proposed was tantalisingly appealing. As a married woman, being not only permitted to continue to run her own successful interior design business, but encouraged and supported by her husband was an unthinkable dream to most women. Sir John’s terms on that level were beyond generous. However, the conditions that she agreed to, including allowing him to discreetly carry on his affairs with a string of theatrical Gaiety Girls********, in spite of their marriage vows, whilst agreeing to be bedded by him to provide an heir to the Nettleford-Hughes fortune had quickly tarnished and lost its appeal. Agreeing to it was one thing, but seeing her fiancée in the predatory arms of West End actress, Paula Young at a soirée by the world famous British concert pianist, Sylvia Fordyce was hard, and his palpable affections for his former flame, the glamorous silent film star actress employed at Cinégraphic*********, Madeline Flanton, made the arrangement almost unbearable for Lettice. And then, with the unexpected return of Selwyn and his declaration of his unwavering love for Lettice transformed the arrangement into a predicament.

 

“Oh!” Clemance gasps, raising her glove clad hand to her lips, the look of disappointment clear on her face. “Too many flowers? Is the silver horseshoe********** on the front too much?” She looks hopefully to Lettice, before adding, “We can easily have it removed.”

 

If shopping for wedding cakes for an occasion she no longer desires or wishes were happening were not bad enough, shopping with Clemance makes the situation a hundredfold more awkward. Lettice likes Clemance very much, and Clemance obviously cares deeply for her future sister-in-law, and they get along very well, in spite of the difference in age of some thirty years or more between the two women. Lettice also knows from Sir John that Clemance lost her only daughter before the Great War, and Lettice is around the age Clemance’s daughter would have been had she lived.

 

“No it’s not that, Clemance.” Lettice manages to say with a heavy sigh. “It’s…” However, she cannot express herself to finish her sentence.

 

“What?” Clemance persists with concern etched into her pale face. “What is it, Lettice my dear?”

 

“I’m sorry Clemance,” Lettice apologises after a moment or two of awkward silence as she tries to think what to say. “I’m just not particularly good company today, and I’m not in the mood for shopping.”

 

“Oh of course, my dear!” Clemance replies. “If this is too much for you just today, we can do it another day.”

 

“Do you mind fearfully, Clemance?” Lettice asks with a grateful smile.

 

“Not at all, my dear Lettice.”

 

“I have so much on my mind at the moment.”

 

“Oh of course you do, Lettice my dear.” Clemance reaches out her right hand and wraps it around Lettice’s, which are clasped in front of her. “Any bride-to-be has so much on her mind.” She chuckles softly. “I know I did.”

 

“It isn’t that, Clemance.” Lettice admits truthfully, before replying with a lie. “It’s… it’s this redecoration I’m doing for Charlie Hatchett’s wife.”

 

“The Labour MP Charlie Hatchett?” Clemance asks.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I’ve heard Nettie talk about him,” Clemance goes on, using Sir John’s pet name used only by Clemance and his closest friends from his younger days. “He’s quite the man of the people, I’m told. He has, now what did Nettie say?” The skin around her eyes screws up into tight folds as her brow furrows in concentration. “The common touch. He has the common touch, Nettle says. Makes him popular with the people. Is his wife a horror? One of those nouveau riche women demanding perfection for a price, or worse yet,” She gasps. “A vulgar American?”

 

“Dolly Hatchett?” Lettice queries, before chuckling. “No, no, Clemance. Mrs. Hatchett is delightful, and English to the backbone, I promise.”

 

“Oh, that is a relief, Lettice my dear.” Clemance raises her hand to her chest and strikes her heart. “Then what?”

 

“Well,” Lettice sighs, as she continues her falsehood to save Clemance’s feelings. “It is the largest commission I have ever taken on, Clemance. Naturally I worry that it will all go well.”

 

“Of course it will go well, Lettice. You have nothing to fear!” Clemance insists. “In fact, knowing you and your exquisite taste, I have no doubt that it will be a great success.”

 

Lettice feels tears stinging the backs of her eyes as she looks at Clemance’s smiling face. “Why do you have to be so good, Clemance?”

 

Clemance smiles broadly, her eyes sparkling with pleasure before she wraps Lettice in an embrace, swathing her in her red fox fur summer stoles***********. “Heavens Lettice! You are my future sister-in-law!” She clucks. “What else should I be, but kind?”

 

Lettice opens the beautifully hand beaded reticule************ covered in shimmering cream, pink, green and red glass beads, fashioned into a pattern of a swag of red roses and cobalt blue ribbons, made by one of her oldest childhood chums and fashion designer, Gerald Bruton’s seamstresses, and withdraws a monogrammed lace trimmed white handkerchief and dabs her eyes.”

 

“Goodness! What on earth has brought all this on, Lettice my dear?” Clemance asks, rubbing Lettice’s back comfortingly. “You know what I think?”

 

Lettice sniffles. “What?”

 

“I think we are in need of some light refreshment, and a nice slice of Gunter’s cake.” Clemance replies.

 

Clucking like a mother hen caring for her smallest and most delicate of chicks, Clemance takes charge and ushers Lettice through Gunter’s dining room with its stylish Regency Revival décor, moving them both expertly through the maze of tables adorned with crisp white linen, sparking silverware and glinting fine china, populated by diners seated on mahogany dining chairs, whilst miraculously arranging a table for two, located discreetly behind a potted parlour palm.

 

Suitably ensconced at their table, a smartly dressed waiter************* in black tailcoat, starched white shirt, hand-tied, piqué************** white bow tie and matching waistcoat, approached them and presented them with the Gunter’s Tea Shop menu, printed in thick cream paper with white cotton glove clad hands***************. Lettice and Clemance peruse the menu. Printed in romantic, curling script reminiscent of the Regency era when Gunter’s first became a fashionable high-society lunch and afternoon tea salon, the offerings include their famous array of sorbets and ices, a selection of afternoon tea and pâtisserie and savoury luncheon dishes. Lettice tries to concentrate on the lists of rich custard based ices in flavours like chocolate, white coffee, pistachio, vanille, and maple, and fruit sorbets and water ice varieties such as pineapple, bergamot, and elderflower.

 

“So, will it be a pâtisserie, or do we dare something decadent cold and sweet?” Clemance asks Lettice in a conspiratorial fashion, lowing her menu and smiling with pleasure, noticing her companion’s face has regained colour. “I always remember Nettie buying me Brown Bread Ice Cream*************** here when I was young.”

 

“Do you like Brown Bread Ice Cream, Clemance?” Lettice asks, silently pleased that the conversation has now diverted from the wedding plans, at least momentarily.

 

“Well, as a matter of fact, I do, but Nettie really bought it for me so that when we went home to our parents in Belgravia, I didn’t have to lie.”

 

“Lie?”

 

“I was a very honest child, you see Lettice, and I couldn’t pretend that we had been somewhere else when we had been to Gunter’s Tea Shop, which of course our parents would have seen as a ridiculous extravagance, even though we were wealthy enough to enjoy the pleasures of Gunter’s. As an adult, I see it was that which our parents objected to.”

 

“The pleasure, dear Clemance?”

 

“Yes. They did not see any pleasure for Nettie and I in sitting in our open carriage, under the shady trees of the square, enjoying a selection of ice creams, sorbets and water ices, and would have been furious had they ever found out.”

 

“But you just said you were a truthful child, Clemance.” Lettice remarks. “How could they not know you had been here?”

 

“Simple, Lettice my dear. Our parents never asked us where we had been. They simply asked us what we had eaten, as they were very obsessed with us eating simply and without fanfare they felt we didn’t deserve. I wouldn’t lie, so I would answer them brown bread, which wasn’t a lie.”

 

Clemance giggles like a naughty child, and for a fleeting moment Lettice catches a glimpse of what a young Clemance being brought to Gunter’s Tea Shop for a treat by her elder brother, John, must have looked like. The image of her fiancée as a young man in his twenties, which is almost impossible for her to envisage, and a young Clemance sitting in an open brougham seeing and being seen by society, enjoying the decadent treat of an ice cream that would have been a forbidden treat in their own home, makes Lettice want to cry again.

 

“John obviously loved you very much then.” she manages to say chokingly.

 

“As much as he does now, Lettice my dear. Elder brothers tend to have soft spots for their younger sisters, and indulge them when they can. You must have found that with Leslie.”

 

Lettice thinks about how often her elder brother Leslie has sheltered her from harsh words or punishments, and indulged her over the years. She smiles as she remembers Leslie on his wedding day to Arabella a few years ago, calling her “mon petite soeur” as he did when they were children, as they stood alone together in Lettice’s childhood bedroom at Glynes, the Chetwynd’s family seat. He told her that eldest brothers always have special place in their hearts for their little sisters, no matter the passing years. Lettice’s smile broadens a little more as she remembers him indulgently promising her that when he becomes the next Viscount Wrexham and takes up residence in Glynes, that he will redecorate her boudoir, which Lettice feels is kept like a mausoleum to her childhood by her mother.

 

“Yes, but not with Lionel.” Lettice tempers as she then remembers her other brother’s face, suntanned by the British Kenyan***************** sun as it appeared like a ghoul around the door of her bedroom as he mocked the closeness of the moment between Lettice and Leslie scornfully. “He’s not in the habit of caring about or indulging anyone except himself.”

 

“Well, I did say ‘tend’, Lettice, so that allows for vagaries like your mysterious brother living on the Dark Continent******************, although I’m sure he isn’t as bad as all that, as I doubt he could fail but indulge you my dear.”

 

“You’ve never met Lionel.” Lettice scoffs.

 

“No, but I’m looking forward to finally meeting him when you and Nettie get married my dear.”

 

Lettice pauses looking with blind eyes at the flavours of sorbets and looks up earnestly at Clemance. “Do you always do that, Clemance?”

 

“Do what, Lettice my dear?” Clemance asks as she reaches up to her chest and tugs on the stuffed paw straps her fox, adjusting how it sits across her shoulders.

 

“Find the best in everyone.” Lettice elucidates. “You are so good,” she opines again. “And you seem to never have a cross word for anyone.”

 

“I find it helps, Lettice my dear.” Clemance says sagely. “This word is full of miseries enough, so I prefer to see the good in those around me, rather than seek fault. I know that you and your family have a somewhat…” She pauses and chews the inside of her left cheek for a moment whilst she thinks of the right word to use. “Complex, relationship with your brother Lionel. I don’t claim to know why, and nor,” She dops her menu on the table in front of her and throws up her hands in defence. “Is it any of my business, but I’m quite sure that if he a child of your innately good parents, the same people who created the delightful creatures you and Leslie are, he simply cannot be all bad.”

 

“You don’t know Lionel.” Lettice scoffs again.

 

“Look,” Clemance bursts with a sudden urgency, looking intently across the beautifully laid table. “I know what you’re thinking.”

 

“You do?” Lettice exclaims in sudden alarm, her cheeks reddening to match the hue of her blush pink morning dress of satin hand painted in watercolour with navy blue rose blooms, as she reaches up with her right glove clad hand to her two strands of pearls about her neck.

 

“Of course I do!” Clemance chortles.

 

“Oh Clemance… I…” Lettice begins to splutter, but is silenced by her future sister-in-law’s raised right hand.

 

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Lettice my dear. You forget that I was once a young bride-to-be, too. Goodness knows I loved Harrison as much as any being can love another, but I still had doubts about marrying him in the lead up to the wedding.”

 

“You did?” Lettice manages to ask in a choked whisper.

 

“Of course! I don’t know of any bride who didn’t have doubts at some point before she was finally wed. You’re doing the same now. I know you are. I can recognise the signs because I had them myself, and that’s why you have no stomach for looking at bride cakes****************** today.”

 

Lettice sighs. “Oh Clemance, I have so much I want to say.”

 

But Clemance holds hup her hand again to silence Lettice. “Keep your own counsel my dear. I have no place listening to your inner thoughts, but I promise you that these silly doubts will pass quickly. I know that Nettie is a bit older than you, but I can assure you that you will find no more a devoted and loyal husband than my brother.” She doesn’t notice the dark sadness in Lettice’s eyes at the mention of Sir John’s loyalty. “He’s never met the right lady, but goodness knows he could have been persuaded by the likes of Madeline Flanton and other pretty women in his coterie of friends, but he’s never been tempted. He’ll be faithful to you from the moment you are wed.”

 

“Oh Clemance…” Lettice utters in anguish as tears begin to swell.

 

Continuing unabated, Clemance adds, “You and Nettie really do just need to stop shilly-shallying******************** and set a date. That will cure you of all these silly doubts of yours.” She wags a finger admonishingly at Lettice. “He’s committed to marry you, and won’t back down, I promise you. Goodness knows for the perfect couple, I have never met a bride and groom so reluctant to set a date.” She reaches out and pats Lettice on the hand. “I’ll talk to Nettie. Don’t you worry about it. We’ve missed the lovely spring weather now, but maybe in late Autumn when the Season is over? You could get married at Fontengil Park, or indeed at Glynes.” She smiles with a steeliness of resolution. “I’ll get Nettie to set a date, and then we’ll have a goal to work towards, and you’ll see how much better and more committed you will be to your future happiness as Lady Nettleford-Hughes.”

 

Just at that moment, the impeccably dressed Gunter’s waiter returns to take their orders.

 

“Ahh!” Clemance says. “I think I’m going to have to have the Brown Bread Ice Cream for nostalgia’s sake. Can I tempt you to a sweet ice cream, Lettice my dear? My treat!”

 

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

 

**Gunter’s (officially Gunter’s Tea Shop) was London’s most famous and exclusive confectionery, catering, and high-society eatery. The business was founded in 1757 at numbers 7 to 8 Berkeley Square, in Mayfair, by an Italian pastry chef named Domenico Negri. He originally named it The Pot and Pineapple. The pineapple was chosen because it was the ultimate Georgian symbol of wealth, luxury, and exotic indulgence. In 1777, an Englishman named James Gunter entered into a partnership with Negri. By 1799, Gunter became the sole proprietor and rebranded the establishment under his own name. In the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, freezing technology was rare and expensive. Gunter’s became globally renowned for its exotic "ices," sorbets, and ice creams. They served dramatic flavours like pine, bergamot, maple, jasmine, and even Parmesan, often frozen into intricate pewter moulds shaped like fruits or meats. Gunter’s was famous for a unique social phenomenon. Because the shop itself was small, wealthy patrons would park their open-topped horse carriages under the plane trees of Berkeley Square. Waiters would dodge traffic to sprint across the road, bringing rapidly melting ice cream right to the carriages. Gunter's wasn't just a cafe; they were massive high-end event caterers. They provided the food, multi-tiered "bride cakes," and sugar architecture for royal balls and elite weddings, including making the wedding cake for Queen Victoria’s granddaughter in 1889.

 

***In 1926, Gunter's Tea Shop was located at Numbers 7 to 8 Berkeley Square in Mayfair. The shop originally opened at No. 7 in 1757, but due to its immense popularity with high society, it expanded into the adjoining premises at No. 8 between 1840 and 1841. The business operated continuously from this combined dual-address throughout the entire 1920s. It remained at this iconic location until the east side of Berkeley Square was demolished and rebuilt between 1936 and 1937, forcing the tea shop to move to nearby Curzon Street.

 

****Berkeley Square is a garden square in the West End of London. It is one of the best known of the many squares in London, located in Mayfair in the City of Westminster. It was laid out in the mid Eighteenth Century by the architect William Kent, and originally extended further south. Like most squares in British cities, it is surrounded largely by terraced houses, in this case grand townhouses. Originally these were the London residences of very wealthy families who would spend most of the year at their country house. Berkeley Square was still predominantly residential in the 1920s, but it was experiencing the rapid, irreversible transition into a commercial hub. Only one building, number 48, remains wholly residential. Most have been converted into offices for businesses typical of Mayfair, such as bluechips' meeting spaces, hedge funds, niche head-hunters and wealth management businesses.

 

*****In the 1920s, the fine white icing used on wedding cakes was royal icing. This classic confection was prized not just for its brilliant white aesthetic, but for its unique structural and preservative properties. Made from a simple yet precise blend of softly beaten egg whites, finely powdered icing sugar and lemon juice, royal icing was the ultimate status symbol for wealthy families wishing to make an impression. Historically, pure white sugar was incredibly difficult and expensive to refine. Covering a massive cake in snowy white icing served as a direct visual flex of a family's extreme wealth and societal standing. Unlike soft modern buttercreams, royal icing dries to a rock-hard, porcelain-like matte finish. Because 1920s wedding cakes were dense, heavy fruitcakes stacked in multi-tiered towers, this hard shell was structurally essential to prevent the bottom tiers from collapsing under the weight. In an era before widespread refrigeration, the hard royal icing shell completely sealed the fruitcake from the air. This allowed the cake to be baked and decorated weeks in advance, and preserved for months afterward without spoiling. Because the icing dried so incredibly hard, cutting the cake was a dramatic event. It was during this era that bakers began regularly adding small amounts of glycerine to the mixture to prevent it from shattering like glass when the bride and groom made their first cut

 

******The General Strike in Britain occurred between May the 3rd and May the 12th, 1926. It was a nine-day nationwide stoppage called by the Trades Union Congress (TUC) to support coal miners facing wage reductions and worsening conditions. Roughly one million, seven hundred thousand workers went on strike, primarily in transport and heavy industry.

 

*******The 1920s saw the rapid rise of the legendary Lambeth Method of cake decoration. Pastry chefs relied on the fast-drying nature of royal icing to pipe layer upon layer of delicate, lace-like scrolls, lattice-work, and heavy borders directly onto the cake. The result was an ornate, highly structured cake decorating technique characterised by dramatic, three-dimensional depth and strict symmetry. Named after named after Joseph Lambeth, an American master baker and confectioner, Lambeth piping draws heavily on lavish Victorian and Baroque architectural elements. It became the gold standard for high society wedding cakes in the 1920s and 1930s.

 

********Gaiety Girls were the chorus girls in Edwardian musical comedies, beginning in the 1890s at the Gaiety Theatre, London, in the shows produced by George Edwardes.

 

********Cinégraphic was a French film production company founded by director Marcel L'Herbier in the 1920s. It was established following a disagreement between L'Herbier and the Gaumont Company, a major film distributor, over the film "Don Juan et Faust". Cinégraphic was involved in the production of several films, including "Don Juan et Faust" itself. Cinégraphic focused on more experimental and artistic films.

 

**********Horseshoes were used in weddings as powerful talismans to bring good luck, ensure fertility, and ward off evil spirits. This tradition, which was especially popular in British, Irish, and Celtic cultures, stems from a mix of ancient mythology, religious folklore, and practical symbolism. In Celtic folklore, a bride walking down the church aisle was considered highly vulnerable to malevolent forces, curses, or trickster fairies looking to cause mischief. Because horseshoes were traditionally forged from iron, they were believed to possess magical protective qualities. Folklore dictated that mischievous spirits and the Devil were deeply afraid of iron and would completely avoid any place or person shielded by it. The distinct shape of a horseshoe heavily resembles a crescent moon. Since ancient Greek and Roman times, the crescent moon was regarded as a potent symbol of fertility, a successful harvest, and continuous growth. Gifting a horseshoe to a newlywed couple was a literal blessing for a fruitful marriage and many children. According to Tenth Century British lore, Saint Dunstan, a blacksmith who later became the Archbishop of Canterbury, was asked by the Devil to shoe his hoof. Dunstan secretly nailed the red-hot shoe on so painfully that the Devil begged for mercy. Dunstan only agreed to release him after forcing the Devil to swear a solemn oath: he would never enter a building that displayed a horseshoe. Many brides had miniature silver or fabric horseshoes discreetly sewn right into the hems or waistbands of their wedding gowns to keep the good luck physically touching them all day. Even Princess Diana famously had a tiny, diamond-studded horseshoe sewn into the waistband of her 1981.

 

***********During the 1920s, visiting Gunter’s Tea Shop required strict adherence to "Afternoon Dress" (or daytime formalwear). Because Gunter's was located in Mayfair — the epicentre of London high society — patrons were legally not barred by a modern written dress code, but rather by unyielding social etiquette. Failing to dress meticulously meant instant social ostracization and refusal of service by the staff. Even in warmer months, women of means frequently layered their dresses with "summer furs" — lightweight fur-trimmed capes or stoles—to signal their wealth.

 

************A reticule also known as a ridicule or indispensable, was a type of small handbag or purse, typically having a drawstring and decorated with embroidery or beading, similar to a modern evening bag, used mainly from 1795 to before the Great War.

 

*************Whilst the 1920s saw a massive boom in everyday commercial tea shops employing female waitresses — most notably the famous J. Lyons & Co. tea shops or Corner Houses and their iconic "Nippy" waitresses — high-end, elite Mayfair institutions like Gunter's Tea Shop maintained a stricter, old-school hierarchy. In luxury London catering and high-society dining, employing impeccably dressed male waitstaff remained a sign of prestige, wealth, and top-tier service. Gunter's was famous for its unique custom where patrons could sit in their carriages or under the trees of Berkeley Square, and waiters were required to run trays of melting ices back and forth, dodging heavy traffic and horses in the street — a fast-paced, physically demanding outdoor role that the establishment traditionally reserved for men.

 

**************Piqué is a durable, textured cotton material characterized by raised geometric patterns woven into the cloth. It was highly popular in the 1920s, and remains standard today for formal waistcoats, bow ties, and modern polo shirts.

 

***************Smooth white cotton gloves, ensured that the waiters of Gunter’s never touched the delicate china, glassware, or silver trays used by upper-class patrons with bare hands, ensuring a discreet but deliberate delineation between the patrons and staff.

 

****************Gunter’s was famous for its Brown Bread Ice Cream, which was a perennial high-society favourite made with caramelized rye breadcrumbs.

 

*****************The Colony and Protectorate of Kenya, commonly known as British Kenya or British East Africa, was part of the British Empire in Africa. It was established when the former East Africa Protectorate was transformed into a British Crown colony in 1920. Technically, the "Colony of Kenya" referred to the interior lands, while a 16 km (10 mi) coastal strip, nominally on lease from the Sultan of Zanzibar, was the "Protectorate of Kenya", but the two were controlled as a single administrative unit. The colony came to an end in 1963 when an ethnic Kenyan majority government was elected for the first time and eventually declared independence as the Republic of Kenya.

 

******************"The Dark Continent" is an outdated term historically used to refer to Africa, particularly Sub-Saharan Africa, due to its perceived mystique and lack of exploration by Europeans in the Nineteenth Century.

 

*******************A "bride cake" is the historical predecessor and original term for the modern wedding cake. Historically, the term emphasised that the bride was the central focus of the wedding celebration. While the phrase gradually evolved into "wedding cake" over the course of the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries, it refers to a distinct culinary tradition with specific meanings, and was a term held on to by people born earlier in the Nineteenth Century.

 

********************The traditional English idiom shilly-shallying means to hesitate, dither, dawdle, or be completely indecisive when you should be making a firm decision. In late Seventeenth Century London, people who couldn't make a decision were mocked for standing around muttering to themselves, "Shall I? Shall I?" (as in, "Shall I do this, or shall I do that?"). By the year 1700, the phrase morphed into the verbal phrase "to stand shill-I, shall-I". Over the next century, it naturally smoothed out into the single colloquial verb shilly-shally. The first recorded usage of the exact phrase "shilly-shallying" appeared in print in 1816.

 

This tableau featuring a delectable selection of deliciously extravagant cakes on display at Gunter’s Tea Shop may look real to you, but it is in fact made up entirely of 1:12 size miniatures from my collection and includes items from my childhood.

 

Fun things to look for in this tableau include:

 

The three tier wedding cake covered in white icing, decorated with yellow swirls of icing and orange roses is an artisan miniature made entirely of plaster. I have had it since I was given it for a Christmas gift when I was seven.

 

The other cakes on the table are all 1:12 artisan miniatures too. Although made by different artists, all of these I acquired from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House Shop in the United Kingdom. The silver trays all come from there as well, except for the one the three tier wedding cake stands on. That tray I bought from a high street stockist of dolls and doll house miniatures in the months following the Christmas I received the cake as a gift, so that I had a silver tray big enough for it to sit upon.

 

The cake in the background is a splendid three tier wedding cake which is also an artisan miniature which is so beautifully made. I acquired it from a private seller on eBay who was divesting themselves of their mother’s miniatures collection.

 

The flowers in the background are all made by Falcon Miniatures who are very well known for the quality and realism of their miniatures.

 

The lace tablecloth the cakes stand on is in reality a beautiful Victorian era hand tatted lace doily with a beautiful and complex pattern upon it.

 

The flocked Edwardian style wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, with the intention that I should use it as wallpaper in my “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.

Done