The Cavendon Women by Barbara Taylor Bradford Page A

was elsewhere.”
    â€œI can well imagine exactly where it was. On the scalpel-happy doctor. And a certain part of his anatomy.”
    Diedre stared at her, pushed back a chuckle, and asked, “Have you ever thought of being a writer, Dulcie?”
    â€œOccasionally, but I’m studying art history … I love paintings, and occasionally I’ve thought I might open an art gallery when I grow up.”
    â€œI think you’re grown up now. And that’s a great idea. In the meantime, has DeLacy arrived yet?”
    â€œShe has, and I heard her crying a short while ago. I went into her bedroom and comforted her. I think she regrets her divorce, but I told her to buck up, and get ready. So she pulled herself together, and said she was glad to be here with all of us … in the middle of the Clan Ingham was the way she put it.”
    â€œShall I go and see her? She is all right, isn’t she?”
    â€œShe is, I’m sure of that. She was focusing on what to wear when I left her room, so you don’t have to go and see her.”
    â€œAnd why did you come to see me ? Since I was so horrid to you. Please tell me.”
    Dulcie stood up, walked across to Diedre, and stood in front of her. She said, “I wanted to find out if you still frightened me. I was relieved to discover you don’t. And listen, we can be friends now. After all, we are sisters…” She let her sentence drift away, and went to the door, opening it. “I’m going to go and get ready.”
    â€œI shall too, Dulcie. I’ll see you downstairs,” Diedre answered, feeling better than she had in a long time. She knew this was because of her chat with Dulcie. There had been a clearing of the air.
    Also, she was very taken with her youngest sister, the baby of the family, Dulcie. She had been a pretty child, and had grown up to be a true beauty. She had a glamour about her, with her flowing blond hair, worn shoulder length. Her face was soft; her full mouth, high cheekbones, and arched brows gave her a strong look of Daphne at the same age.
    She’s got it all, Diedre thought, walking over to the wardrobe to take out a frock. She’ll go far, our little Dulcie.

 
    Nine
    Anger had replaced DeLacy’s tears as she discarded dress after dress, throwing them on the bed, a look of disgust on her face. There was nothing in her wardrobe here at Cavendon that she liked; they were old frocks, out of date for the most part, and not so flattering anymore, she was sure of that.
    She stood glaring at them scattered across her bed, when there was a knock on the door. Before she had a chance to speak, Miles walked in.
    â€œI came to see what you were doing. My God, DeLacy, you’re not even ready!” he exclaimed, slightly annoyed.
    â€œOnly because I’ve nothing to wear,” she wailed, staring at her brother. “I brought several things for the evening, but I didn’t bother about day frocks…” Her voice trailed off helplessly.
    Miles came over to the bed, and started to examine the dresses. Finally, he picked out a pale gray-and-white silk afternoon frock with a full skirt, a square neckline, and flowing sleeves. “This looks quite stylish. I’d wear this if I were you.”
    â€œThat’s a funny expression to use, Miles, since you’re a man. But no doubt you like it because it’s an old Cecily Swann frock.”
    He nodded, and smiled knowingly. “Of course it is, her style is inimitable. That’s why she’s the success she is today.” He noticed DeLacy’s mouth tighten, and he knew the reason why. Cecily and DeLacy were no longer friends, and had not been for years.
    He glanced at his watch. “Come on, put this on, it’s really beautiful, Lacy, and certainly it doesn’t look dated. With some jewelry, it’ll look quite different. Smart.”
    DeLacy sighed. “I suppose I have no option. All right,