Dorothy Eden (37 page)

She did not expect a cordial welcome. The sisters’ estrangement at the time of Aunt Ben’s death had continued. Katharine’s visit today was not going to lessen it, for she had come to take Norah and Carmen home. It was her first move in the fight ahead.

Anna showed surprise when she saw her visitor. Her manner was guarded.

“What brings you here, Kate? If it’s to plead with Willie I can tell you at once that you’re wasting your time.”

“To plead with him is the very last thing I intend to do!”

Anna, who might have been expecting tears and humility, was put out by this.

“Really, Kate, if I were in your position I would be hiding my head, not behaving like a duchess. If this is that man’s influence—”

“That man, as you call him,” Katharine interrupted swiftly, “knows nothing about my coming here. I’ve called for my daughters.”

“I don’t think you can do that. I’m perfectly certain Willie won’t allow them to go.”

“I’m not asking Willie’s permission. I’m simply telling you I want Norah and Carmen home. Why are you looking at me like that? Do you think I will contaminate them?”

“I don’t know, Kate, but you and Charlie Parnell behave as if you’re right and the rest of the world is wrong. I’ve never known anything so blatant as the way you two have gone on for the last year.” Anna shook her head, her eyes full of an entirely affected wonder. “And then you want two innocent young girls whom their father is trying to protect to go back to your household.”

Katharine’s voice was icy. “I’m not asking your permission either, Anna. I didn’t come here to argue. I came for my daughters. Will you send them to me or must I go and look for them? I still remember my way about your house, I think.”

“You don’t need to be sarcastic. But one way and another—you’ve got round poor old Aunt Ben in her dotage, you’ve practically ruined poor Willie—”

Katharine interrupted again.

“You can’t lecture me any more, Anna. I expect that’s why you’re angry with me, because you can’t. If Willie’s so unhappy, and you’re so sympathetic towards him, you’d better comfort him.” Her eyes widened in startled comprehension as she saw Anna’s rising colour. “If you haven’t already,” she said slowly.

Before Anna could answer—and what would she have said?—the door flew open and Norah came bursting in.

“Mamma, I heard your voice.” She was in Katharine’s outstretched arms. “Oh, darling Mamma, why haven’t you been to see us for so long? How are Clare and Katie?”

Over Norah’s head Katharine saw Carmen enter the room, her welcome much more guarded than her sister’s. Indeed, it wasn’t a welcome at all, it was a quick automatic curtsey and a wary glance towards her Aunt Anna.

“The babies are very well, and waiting to see you. Clare has done nothing but ask for you since I told her you were coming home.”

“We’re to come home?” Norah said thankfully. “Oh, Mamma, we thought you were never going to want us again.”

“I’ve wanted you all the time, silly child. Carmen? Aren’t you going to kiss Mamma?”

Carmen came reluctantly to lift her face.

“You’ve both got your hair up!” Katharine exclaimed. “That’s why you look so different.”

They also wore dresses Katharine had never seen before. It must have come as a change to Willie to have to clothe his children, but he seemed to have done very well. With Anna’s guidance, no doubt. The girls looked sweet and young with their starched organdie collars and neatly tucked waists. But Norah’s face was too thin, and Carmen—her sensitive Carmen who had always hid her face at trouble—wouldn’t quite look at her. The blue eyes slid away not with shyness but with embarrassment.

How terrible that her own child should be embarrassed by her mother’s presence!

Katharine’s face tightened and hardened. Her hands clenched. This she could fight, too.

“Well, go and pack your bags, darlings. I have a hansom cab waiting.”

Anna stepped forward, her eyes glinting.

“If I were you, Kate, I’d ask them first if they want to go. I don’t think you can order them to. They’re not infants, so even a court of law has no jurisdiction over them. They will be free to choose which parent they want to be with.”

“You’ve been briefed already, I see,” said Katharine bitterly. “Willie is really thinking of everything now, isn’t he? I expect a little bit of adversity has sharpened his brains. But he won’t have everything to his liking. I intend to fight the divorce in every possible way.” She flung up her head, her eyes blazing. “Did he think I wouldn’t? Did he think I would allow him to bring down one of the greatest men in England? Has he no sense of honour or history?”

Anna’s mouth was wry.

“I don’t think Willie cares about history. He only sees the man who has stolen his wife.”

“Oh, Anna, you can’t believe
that
! Then he really has got you under his spell.” She looked at her sister, again seeing the tell-tale flush in the plump face. A feeling of utter revulsion seized her. She twitched her skirts sharply round her as she turned to leave.

“Run along, girls, and pack. Just put in the things you brought with you when you came here. I’ll be waiting in the cab. Be as quick as you can.”

Anna took a step forward.

“For goodness’ sake, Kate—”

Was she worrying now that someone would see her sister waiting in a cab outside her door? Would that be another scandal? Such little things she bothered herself with when perhaps the fate of a nation lay at stake.

Waiting in the cab Katharine deliberately made her face grow serene. She looked in her little hand mirror and saw that although she was very pale her mouth had softened and she was ready to smile when the girls came out.

But when the door opened only Norah appeared, and she was crying.

“Mamma, Carmen won’t come. You see, Gerard was to take us to a party this evening, and she wants to go. She says if we live with—I mean down in Brighton, we’ll never go anywhere.”

After a moment Katharine said very quietly, “Then isn’t she going to come and say goodbye?”

“Yes, of course she will. She was only afraid …”

“Tell her not to be afraid. I won’t persuade her against her wishes. But what about you, Norah?”

Norah smiled radiantly, through flowing tears.

“Oh, I don’t care for parties. I’m a social failure, Aunt Anna says. I only want to be at home with you and the babies.”

She picked up her skirts and hurried back inside, reappearing a few moments later with Carmen who now forgot her reserve, and flung herself into her mother’s arms.

“Mamma, do you really not mind? It’s only that Gerard would be so disappointed. He says I’m not bad for a sister, and he has a friend—”

“I understand, my darling. But tell Gerard I’d like a visit from him, too, when he can spare the time from his studies and all this social life.”

“Yes, Mamma, I will. He often speaks of you.”

“Kindly?” She had to ask the question.

Carmen hesitated, then said reluctantly, “It’s only Mr. Parnell he dislikes.”

Katharine bit her suddenly trembling lip. The cabman had poked his head round to grumble that his horse was getting cold. How much longer did they have to wait?

They could go at once, Katharine said, and waved to the daughter she was leaving behind. Her errand hadn’t quite failed nor had it quite succeeded. But it was a beginning. Now she could safely leave the little ones in the care of Norah while she consulted her solicitor, Mr. George Lewis, and made frequent trips to London in the months to come.

Willie and Anna? she was thinking, and her mouth tightened again. She could have no sentiment now. She had to use every stick to her hand.

They went over it every time Charles was back from Ireland. Katharine had all the evidence Mr. Lewis had advised her to get, evidence of Willie’s cruelty, of his collusion in the way he had encouraged them to be together, of his hopes of reward, and, if that evidence were not enough, of his own affairs with women, conducted privately but not privately enough. She had a list of those women, all able to be called as witnesses. Including her sister Anna.

She no longer cared what her family thought of her. What did they care for her, anyway, with their long-drawn-out litigation over Aunt Ben’s will? They had accused her of everything possible, lying, treachery, greed. They had turned her devotion for Aunt Ben into a nasty grasping scheming. So what did adultery matter?

Not one of them had imagined her true feelings. They would never have dreamed of calling her behaviour loyalty. She was black to the soul. Did it matter if she starved?

But she could scarcely believe her ears when Charles, too, turned against her. Or that was what he seemed to do. For suddenly, although he had consulted George Lewis, and allowed him to brief Sir Frank Lockwood, he announced that he intended to withdraw his defence, and would be obliged if she would do the same.

The case was due to be heard in a week’s time.

Katharine thought the long months of strain must have affected his mind.

“But how can you do this? You’ve assured everyone that when the facts were known you wouldn’t be blamed.”

“My people won’t turn against me, whatever happens. The English …” he shrugged. “Let them think what they like. It won’t concern me.”

“But Charles!” She didn’t know how to cope with this new problem. “Supposing they decide to believe Willie? What else can they do if we say nothing? Then you’ll be ruined.”

He shook his head reflectively, as if he had scarcely been listening to her.

“No, they won’t believe Captain O’Shea in preference to me. They remember him as the man who made fun of their manners and their dress, and wouldn’t take the party pledge. They won’t have any sympathy for him.”

“Nor for me, as his wife,” Katharine said in a low voice. “I’m Kitty O’Shea to them. They can’t wait to fling stones at me. You trust them too much. What about Tim Healy who loves you one day and would strike you down the next? What about Mick Davitt who is practically a monk? What about Sexton and Justin McCarthy, and Colonel Nolan? And surely—surely you’re not going to forget the voice of the Holy Roman Church?”

“Kate, I don’t like you when you’re like this.”

She put her hands to her face, shocked.

“What do I look like? A shrew again?”

His gentle smile reassured her.

“No. Only bewildered, as if you were being a woman you were never meant to be.”

Then suddenly he had snatched her into his arms, and buried his face in her hair. “Let Willie have his way. Let the divorce go through. I’m only so afraid something might stop it, even at this late hour. What does it matter what people say about us? We’ll face it together. I’ll at last be able to make you my wife. Isn’t that worth keeping silent for?”

She had to push him away from her to look at his face. It was so worn and transparent. She had been so wrapped up in her bitter search for evidence to defend themselves that she hadn’t noticed how frail he had grown. Had he the strength to stand all the trouble ahead?

“It’s worth it to me,” she said at last. “But would it be worth it to you if you had to give up Ireland?”

“You’re determined to under-estimate your importance in my life,” he said, smiling quizzically. “And mine to the people of Ireland. Well, I’m optimistic enough to think that we’ll all come through. Kate, will you promise me to withdraw your defence?”

“Must I?”

“I found that you’d even brought in your own sister.”

Her chin went up aggressively. “She deserves no better. And you know that I would do anything to protect you.”

“I must refuse to be protected in this way. It doesn’t do either of us credit. The divorce will go through whether we smear other people or not.”

“But Willie will smear us. You wait until he starts giving evidence!”

“Then let us refrain from reading it. And six months from now, in the spring …” It was her turn to bury her face against his shoulder, sobbing convulsively.

“Now, Kate, my love.”

“You have made me remember Papa’s favourite text.
And now abideth faith, hope and charity.
I haven’t thought of it for so long.”

“Then think of it now, and let me see my gentle Katie again.”

He wouldn’t tell her what had made him change his mind about defending the case. He said he had been coming to that idea for a long time, it would be the best way, she would see.

Perhaps he was right, for that evening she found Norah in tears. When she went to comfort her, saying, “This isn’t
your
trouble, my darling,” Norah began laughing and crying at the same time.

“I am only so relieved, Mamma. Mr. Parnell says that now Carmen and I won’t have to appear in court. We were dreading it terribly, especially Carmen.”

“You and Carmen! In court! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Norah hung her head.

“I couldn’t bear to talk about it. Papa wrote some time ago saying we would have to do this. It was our duty to testify. If we refused we could be put in prison for contempt of court.”

Katharine’s voice was harsh.

“And what were you to testify, pray?”

Norah’s cheeks flamed. She couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes.

“Nothing very much, really.”

“What?”

“Only that you were not to be disturbed when you had a visitor. That the sitting room door was shut. That—that the servants knew this, too.”

For so many years, Katharine thought in agony. How could she not have realised how her children felt about the door shut against them?

“And Gerard? Was he to be called, too?”

Norah nodded mutely.

Katharine clenched her hands, unable now to see either right or wrong. She so wanted to vindicate Charles and herself. But at the expense of her young daughters’ distress, at the public spectacle they would have had to make of themselves?

For the first time she was thankful that Charles had taken the decision from her. They could stay safely at home, shut from the sight of the gloating public, while Willie had it all his own way in that court room.

Charles had advised her to stop
The Times
coming, or at least to refrain from reading it while the case was being heard. He might as well have told her not to stir from a house that was on fire.