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“Oh, Cruella! I love you!” she said, giving me the biggest kiss on the cheek. I didn’t think I recalled her ever saying that to me. Not with words. It was the happiest day of my life. My mama finally knew how much I loved her. I was finally able to give her something she truly wanted.
Later, when we were alone saying our goodbyes before Jack went off to his club, he said, “Are you sure about this, my dear? Signing your entire estate over to your mother is a big decision. You know I don’t mind. I’m just concerned you’re doing this for the wrong reasons.” He was so sweet. Always looking out for me.
“What better reason is there, Jack, than to make Mama happy? We don’t need my father’s money. You said so yourself. I really want to do this for my mama. It’s important to me. And I’m still keeping Papa’s name. I’m still honoring his memory. It’s the perfect solution. And my darling, please don’t call Anita and have her come tomorrow. I don’t want to do anything to upset Mama. She’s so happy.”
“As long as you’re happy, my love, I’m happy. But if there is any hint of you pining for Anita when we get back from our honeymoon then I will have to insist you call her.”
“Deal!” I said, but I had no intention of calling her. I wasn’t going to do anything to anything to ruin my relationship with my mama. Not now, after I had finally won her love.
Once Jack and I were back from our honeymoon in Venice and settled into our new home, I decided the first thing we should do was settle the question of signing my inheritance over to Mama. She had been so sweet during our entire trip, writing me letters telling me she couldn’t wait for me to come home. Telling me how happy she was to have such a successful and wonderful daughter. Miss Pricket, who came along on our trip as my lady’s maid, kept her comments to herself. I could see she didn’t trust Mama, and it was quite clear Jack didn’t, either, but I wanted to do this for her, and he was happy to go along with anything that would make me happy. What was it going to hurt giving her what, frankly, my father should have left to her in the first place?
The day after we arrived home we asked Sir Huntley to come over to discuss the details. Mama was out having tea with Lady Slaptton and would be coming over later for dinner so we could all sign the paperwork. It would be the first time I would have anyone in my new home, and I was brimming with excitement. Miss Pricket was taking care of organizing our new household staff and managed to get in quick introductions amid the preparations. So quick was my introduction that I couldn’t remember anyone’s name! I would have to rely on Miss Pricket to remind me later. I had more important matters to deal with. I knew Miss Pricket would make sure everything for the dinner with Mama would go beautifully. But first was the matter of Sir Huntley.
Jack and I sat in the study of our stately new home while waiting for Sir Huntley to arrive.
“Do you want me here when you talk to Sir Huntley, my dear? Or shall I leave you two alone?”
“Oh, I want you her
e, my Crackerjack,” I said with a kiss.
“Well, this is your matter, my darling. I know you’ve quite made up your mind. I’ll simply be here for moral support. Not that you’ll need it,” he said, looking even more dashing than Humphrey Bogart.
And before we knew it, Miss Pricket came into the room.
“Lord and Lady De Vil, Sir Huntley is here.” She wore a disapproving look on her face. Miss Pricket didn’t say outright that she disagreed with my plan, but she took no pains to hide how she felt. I found myself putting up with Miss Pricket’s little comments and looks after Anita and I parted ways. I missed having an in-between who I considered a friend and companion. And Jack said it did me good to have a servant who could be frank with me from time to time. He said it kept me on my toes, whatever that meant. So I put up with her. After all, she made me feel like I was bringing a bit of my childhood home with me to my new home with Jack.
“Thank you, Miss Pricket,” I said. “Please show him in.” I could see Sir Huntley’s eyes widen as he entered the room. He was impressed with my new home. I should have met him in the grand vestibule to see his eyes pop out of his head. My new vestibule could’ve fit the entire main floor of Mama’s place on Belgrave Square. The floors were made entirely of marble, and the room was simply bursting with roman statues. And the grand staircase, well, that was a marvel. I couldn’t wait to show it all off to Mama later when she came for dinner.
“Hello, Sir Huntley. Welcome to my new home. Miss Pricket, can you have the maid please bring in our tea?”
The staff in my new home was enormous. There was no way I was going to remember all of their names. So I took to calling them by their job titles when talking to Miss Pricket, and calling them “dear” when speaking to them directly. I left the remembering of names to Miss Pricket, who had taken on the role of head housekeeper. She directed the maid to bring in the tea, serving Sir Huntley first. He sipped his tea nervously as I shared my wishes for my father’s money with him. Jack simply sat there beside me, flashing his wide Clark Gable smile, listening but not interjecting. Jack wasn’t the sort of husband who felt he had to do the talking for his wife. He valued my mind, my sharp wit, and my sometimes wicked tongue.
“Lady De Vil, it is my duty as your solicitor to say this is very ill-advised. Your father wouldn’t have wanted you to sign all of your money over to your mother.”
“What does the money matter to me, Sir Huntley? I am very well taken care of by Jack. Why shouldn’t Mama have the money? Papa should have left it to her in the first place.”
“Your father wanted you to have something of your own. He wanted you to be your own person. To distinguish yourself.”
“And so I have! And I’ve kept his name. What does it matter if I give Mama his money?”
“He was very clear on that point, Lady De Vil. He asked me to avoid it at all costs.”
“But why was he so dead set against Mama having the money? I’ve married a man with a fortune far greater than my own. It would be selfish to keep my father’s money for myself when I can give it to my poor mama.”
“Your mother draws a very sizable income from your capital holdings, Cruella. She is by no means poor. I’m sorry to have to say so …” he said, trailing off as he tried to find the right words.
“Please, Sir Huntley, speak as candidly as you like. You won’t offend us,” I said.
“Thank you, Lady De Vil, I didn’t want to bring this up, but your father was afraid that if the capital was left in her charge, she would squander it, leaving you with nothing when she passed. That’s why he left it to you.”
I looked at my Jack, trying to read his face. I didn’t want him thinking less of my mama. But his face was passive.
Sir Huntley looked as if he had more to say but was trying very hard to arrive at the right words without offending me. But then he found his courage.
“Your mother’s spending is frankly outrageous, even for a woman of her means. She refuses to take advice on the matter, and has been working tirelessly to seize control over the trust since your father passed. I made a promise to your father, Lady De Vil, to protect you. And protect you I shall.” Sir Huntley was by nature a nervous man, but I had never seen him so rattled. He was clearly very devoted to my father and intended to do all he could to stay true to his word. But I wasn’t going to listen to this sort of talk about my mother, not for one more moment. Working tirelessly to seize my money? Ever since my father died? It didn’t seem possible.
“I don’t believe it. I won’t have you telling such lies about my mother, sir!”
