Dorothy Eden (25 page)

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then you haven’t—”

She couldn’t let him finish the bald statement.

“No, I haven’t slept with Willie, and I never will again! How dare you think such a thing! The baby is going to be mine. And yours if you want it. But not his. If necessary, I’ll disappear completely. I won’t ruin you. But I
will
have this baby. I deserve it.” She was beginning to cry, although she had been determined to show no weakness. “I do deserve it, Charlie.”

He put out his hand to touch her, as if he were bidding her farewell. “Yes, Kate. You do deserve it.”

Then abruptly he left her. She didn’t hear him go downstairs, but a few minutes later the front door banged. She flew to the window to see him, with his top-hat on, and carrying a light coat over his arm, walking briskly towards the gate.

He was going to London. Had he left her? She knew he hated goodbyes, and preferred never to say them. But surely he could not leave her just like that. Had the news of her pregnancy, coming on top of all his other worries, been too much? He was so highly strung, so unpredictable.

But he would be back. He must be back. He had said that only she kept him alive, and, frightening as that fact was, she was afraid it was true. How many times had she calmed him, nursed him, dispelled his nightmares, prepared him for each new ordeal?

He must be back.

But for how long would he leave her in this agony of doubt, and what new solution would he or she eventually find to their new problem?

It was nearly midnight before she heard the sound of horses’ hooves, and the crunch of wheels on gravel. Someone called goodnight, the front gate clicked shut, footsteps approached.

Who was it? Willie on one of his unannounced visits, or Charles.

A moment later the soft tapping came at the conservatory door, signal that she, and no servant, was to let the visitor in.

She flew downstairs, not waiting even to light a candle. She flung the door open and was in his arms.

“Katie! Such a welcome! Did you think I had gone for ever?” His voice was calm, tenderly teasing. She was weeping with relief.

“How did I know where you had gone?”

“But you might have guessed. I’ve been to Albert Mansions.”

“To Willie!”

“And who else would I be consulting on this peculiarly private affair? Luckily I found him at home.”

She had drawn him inside and closed the door. There was faint moonlight shining through the glass roof of the conservatory. The orange tree she had been tending so carefully all the summer hung its glossy leaves above them. She couldn’t see his face, only the gleam of his eyes.

“What did he say?”

“I asked him if he’d be prepared to give you a divorce. He refused completely.”

“Did you tell him why?”

“Naturally.”

“And didn’t he want to fight you.”

“If he had had a weapon to hand, I’m sure he would have. But he didn’t. He fought me in another way.”

She was aghast, and fearful, and yet, contrarily, happy—because Charles, at last, was standing openly by her side.

“What
happened
? Tell me.”

“The usual thing. His religion. A divorce was not possible. That was his only reason.”

“It’s certainly not because he loves me,” she said fiercely. “He thinks of me as his, I admit. But he doesn’t love me. He hasn’t for a long long time, if he ever did. I think he only ever loved his prospects through me, and my relations.”

“I don’t know about how much he loved you,” said Charles. “But it’s true he always thinks about his prospects. Through you and your aunt’s money. And now through me. He isn’t a fool.”

Katharine put her hands over her face.

“What does he want?”

“At the moment, no scandal. At least, that’s what he assures me.”

“He will want more than that. I know Willie.”

Charles gently took her hands from her face.

“Shall we face that when it comes? At present he’s prepared to acknowledge the baby.”

“As his! Oh, my darling!” she cried tormentedly.

“He thinks he’s being generous.”

“While he lives on Aunt Ben’s money, and expects you to do wonderful things for his career!” Her voice was harsh with scorn.

“My dearest, what can we do? We’re the beggars.”

“
You
a beggar! How terrible!”

“Why is it more terrible for me than you?”

“Because you’re famous, someone above the crowd, someone on a pedestal. It would be better,” she said bitterly, “if I had gone to bed with him and deceived him again.”

He gripped her so tightly that she cried out with pain.

“I’ll fall off my pedestal a hundred times rather than think of that happening. It nearly drove me mad the first time.”

“It would have been better if we’d never met.”

“Do you really think that?”

His voice was so low and sad, that she went into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think it. Only I’m afraid. I’m so afraid.”

“Why should you be? At least Willie will leave you alone now.”

“Oh, yes, that. That won’t worry him too much. He’s always had other women. But if it weren’t for Aunt Ben’s money, if he didn’t think he would have a rich wife one day—” she strained to see his face in the gloom “—I believe he would ruin you. You talk of your pride. What about his? His vanity is the biggest part of him. If that’s to be publicly damaged, he would really fight a duel and kill you, if he could. If he doesn’t do it that way, he will use slower measures.”

“Kate, your imagination!”

She couldn’t respond to his gentle chaffing.

“What are his conditions?”

“For now? Why, that we exercise the greatest discretion. That we don’t be seen in public together, that I don’t stay here unless he is home, that we—the three of us—keep up our pretence of being good friends, that I keep him in my confidence politically, and reward him suitably when the appropriate times comes.”

“Charles, this won’t work. How can it?”

For the first time his voice lost its warmth, and was ruthless, adamant.

“It must.”

“Is it worth it? Will you sacrifice your position? Your country?”

“Do you want to hear me say it? Yes, if I must, I will even sacrifice my country.”

But his voice was so harsh, so cold, so inimical, that she shivered violently. She knew that now and again he must hate her and this was one of those moments. Her lips moved, but she didn’t speak. She was trying to formulate a prayer that such a thing as sacrificing his country would never be necessary. She was afraid it would kill him.

I
N THE MORNING CHARLES
left for Dublin, and Willie arrived. Returning from Aunt Ben’s Katharine found him there. He was sprawled on the sofa in the drawing room, the brandy decanter beside him. If she had expected him to rage and storm he was going to disappoint her. True, he wore a look of smouldering anger, but beneath it there was a not quite hidden satisfaction that his so superior wife had proved herself capable of human weaknesses after all. Now she could no longer take a high and mighty attitude with him.

But was it more than that? Katharine began to have the scarcely believable suspicion that Willie had envisaged this situation from the beginning. So long as it could be handled without public humiliation to himself it suited him very well.

“So you are
enceinte
, my love,” he drawled. “What are you hoping for, a boy or a girl?”

“What is that to you?”

“A great deal, since the little beggar will bear my name. Don’t look so angry, Kate. You should be down on your knees with gratitude to me. At least, I must say for Parnell, although I don’t like the fellow, that he’s been honest with me at last. Much more honest than my own wife. And how did he know I wouldn’t shoot him on the spot.”

Detesting his hypocrisy, Katharine’s voice was icy.

“Because, I imagine, he’s much more valuable to you alive. How do you dare talk to me of gratitude when you’re determined to squeeze all you can out of this situation! It’s you who should thank Charles and me.”

“‘Charles and me’. Don’t say that, Kate,” he said fretfully. “It offends me. And for God’s sake be discreet in your behaviour with your lover or I swear I’ll make the whole thing public. There are enough rumours as it is. It’s only my word that keeps them down.”

“So what do you want?”

“At the moment, I’m comparatively content. You might suggest to your aunt that an extra hundred or so wouldn’t go amiss. I’m planning some dinner parties after the summer recess. We’ve got important work to do. By the way, how long are you going to look presentable? Until Christmas, I hope. I’ll want you at these affairs. I thought you might persuade Gladstone to come one evening.”

“Are you crazy? If he won’t see Mr. Parnell, is he likely to see you?”

Willie’s face darkened at the scorn in her voice. But he went on amicably enough, “Then we shall have to make do with lesser fry. Chamberlain won’t refuse. Nor will Lord Randolph Churchill. Nor Dilke nor Rosebery nor Labouchere. You might tell your aunt you’ll need some clothes. You’re still very handsome, my dear.” His eyes were on her slim waist. “No one would know you had had four children. And that soon to be five. Well, perhaps your sister Anna will help me out when you’re no longer available. Anna’s a fine-looking woman. I admire her. Kate, come here.”

She stiffened. He gave a brief shout of laughter.

“I’m not going to rape you. I only want to know what it is you see in Parnell. For the life of me, I can’t think what it is. He seems far too gloomy and intense.” Willie was no longer mocking. His eyes were bewildered and stormy. His vanity had been deeply hurt. “But he must have something to make a nice woman like you kick over the traces. Why are you so obsessed with him?”

How could she explain to him that fusion of body and spirit, so rare, so overwhelming, so inevitable? How could it be explained to anybody who had not himself or herself experienced it?

Anyway, it was not to be talked about, especially to Willie who would bewilderedly try to turn it into his own version of love, a light-hearted romp that did not make too many demands on his time or his memory.

He sprang up, angry again.

“The children are not to be involved, do you hear? Especially Gerard. I’m not going to have a growing boy’s morals ruined. You be a decent mother to him.”

She flushed with pain. This was the way he could wound her most. It was the most difficult thing of all to face.

“You will have no cause for complaint,” she said in a low voice, and went quickly out of the room.

Anna had a habit of appearing when there was any news in the wind. She made a journey especially to enquire after her sister’s health.

“Willie says you’re having another baby. Do you really want another so soon after poor little Sophie? But I suppose you didn’t have much say in the matter. I do think men might be a little more thoughtful. No matter what other sacrifices they may be capable of,
that
seems to be one they can’t make.”

Anna was forever the elder sister, more sophisticated, more knowledgeable, more worldly, than dear country Kate.

Katharine couldn’t help smiling.

“Strange as it may seem, I
do
want this baby. So do Norah and Carmen. We think it will be like having Sophie back.”

Indeed, the children firmly believed that God had repented of his cruelty and was giving the actual Sophie back to them. They were highly excited and Norah had said she wasn’t going to put any more flowers on the tiny grave in Chislehurst graveyard since Sophie would no longer be there.

Anna seemed a little put out. She had expected to find Katharine worn and tired and peevish at the prospect of another pregnancy. Her own marriage wasn’t being very satisfactory and she didn’t see why Katharine, with four difficult births behind her and another one approaching, and Willie decidedly drinking too heavily, could look so serene. She looked worn, of course, too pale and with shadowed eyes, but that only added to her looks. With her erect carriage and crown of rich brown hair, her long graceful neck and slim waist, she was, more than she had ever been, a woman to be noticed in a crowd.

She had a look Anna could only define as the look of someone loved. And that was a little mysterious since dear Willie, charming as he was, was far from a perfect husband.

Or was it mysterious? She too had heard rumours. She didn’t believe them, of course. She had talked Willie out of that nonsense of the duel. And yet there was Kate with that shining enigmatic look.

“How can you bear to face being cooped up here all winter?” she burst out. “Unless you’re planning to have frequent visitors. Or visitor.”

“If you mean Mr. Parnell,” Katharine said composedly, “he has a permanent room here, as I expect Willie has told you. Though he doesn’t want it talked about. People put the wrong construction on things.”

“Do they?”

“Of course they do. Even though I’ll be beginning to look the size of a house, which is a most unlikely time to be having an intrigue. Anna, be a love the next time you come and bring me some white baby wool. The Scottish brand that Debenhams have. I can’t get it down here and I don’t seem to have the energy at present to go to town.”

“Yes, the House is dull when Charlie Parnell’s away.”

Even that barbed remark failed to disturb Katharine.

“And you might bring some crimson for Aunt Ben. She likes bright colours. She’s making mittens for the two housemaids who suffer from chilblains. By the way, she was greatly taken with Mr. Parnell when I introduced them. She walked up and down quoting Irish history to him.”

“It would be better,” said Anna a little waspishly, “if you got Willie and not Mr. Parnell to cultivate her.”

“You know very well that she and Willie don’t see eye to eye. They never have. It’s a great pity, but I can do nothing about it. She only pays Willie’s debts for my sake.”

“All that money,” said Anna thoughtfully. “How much is it, actually? Willie puts it at a quarter of a million.” And suddenly she added, “Don’t be a fool, Kate.”

“What do you mean?”