Spare Brides Read Online Free Page A

age; there had been talk, when she was a debutante, that she would marry Henning’s son, but he had fallen in France and so it wasn’t to be. Everyone hoped the young bride would be pregnant by spring.
    Doreen had exquisite bone structure, but there was something about that jutting jaw that made Lydia ache for the new bride. She held her chin a little too high, suggesting that it was all too much effort. Lydia shook her head thoughtfully. ‘I always pity second wives; it can’t be easy. The original Lady Henning was so admired.’
    ‘Still, Doreen’s dresses are beautiful and they all come from Paris,’ pointed out Beatrice.
    ‘Have you heard? She’s having an affair,’ commented Ava flatly. She was very well aware that she was delivering scandalous news, but she affected nonchalance, implying she could not be shocked or even moved.
    ‘No!’ chorused the other three satisfyingly.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘With whom?’
    ‘Her dance tutor.’
    ‘No!’
    ‘I promise you.’
    ‘She’s such an absolute jazzing flapper.’ Beatrice was thrilled yet flustered by saying the strange words out loud. She’d read them only last week, in a censorious newspaper. The daring term – which conjured up images of frivolous, scantily clad, coltish young women who drank, smoked and made love without discretion or purpose – did nothing to alleviate the impression that Beatrice was simply far too naïve to have any relationship with the words. Her attempts to appear worldlier than she was were doomed. Ava smirked superciliously. She was a woman who would have no problem with the term ‘jazzing flapper’; indeed, she had defined it a year ago, and now she thought the whole concept of being irresponsible and undisciplined a terrific bore. This year, or technically next year, she planned on being serious. Terribly serious. Except, that was, when it came to frocks.
    ‘Good news, don’t you think? Significantly improves the chances of Henning gaining an heir,’ added Ava with a mischievous wink. The other three women looked incredulous; largely their incredulity came from the fact that Ava dared to articulate what everyone else was thinking. ‘Oh, look, there’s Freddie. I must go and say hello.’ She melted back into the throng, leaving the other three girls battling with feelings of regret and relief.

4
    ‘I THOUGHT WE’D AGREED no gifts! My heart sank when she sashayed in our direction, with her maid laden like a donkey.’
    ‘Don’t be cross with Ava,’ Sarah urged her sister. ‘She’s trying to be kind. Hers is simply a different world now.’
    ‘Yes, I know. But we’d agreed. No Christmas gifts were to be exchanged.’
    Sarah placed her hand on top of Beatrice’s. The gesture was supposed to be at once a comfort and a warning; she hoped that both sentiments might be conveyed through two sets of evening gloves. She could hardly say, ‘Beatrice, hold your tongue.’
    ‘How about I go and find us some drinks?’ offered Lydia, sensing an atmosphere but not entirely understanding it. The sisters nodded with stiff gratitude.
    Ostensibly, the decision not to exchange gifts had been reached because Beatrice had joked about having no clue as to what to buy Ava – ‘What does one give the gal who has everything?’ – but Sarah knew that the real reason was because nowadays the sisters couldn’t afford the sort of presents that the girls used to regularly heap on one another. Samuel had done his bit, his best under the circumstances, but things were tight. Sarah knew that he’d fixed Beatrice’s annual allowance at £125; that had to cover clothes, laundry bills, travel, sundries and tips to other people’s servants. They were on many counts lucky. When their parents had died, within a year of each other, Samuel had made it quite clear that there was no expectation for Bea to leave the family home. Sarah and the children had returned there after Arthur’s death, but with Samuel so reduced, Seaton Manor always felt as