Elizabeth Mansfield (19 page)

There was only one fly in her ointment—the arrival twice weekly of letters from Wyckfield. There was not one which didn’t mention the imaginary Mr. Petersham with disdain. Ethelyn wanted constant reports on the progress of the affair, obviously in the hope that matters would take a turn to cause Camilla to break off “this strange and suspect relationship.” As a result, Camilla spent many hours at her desk, biting the tip of her pen as she concentrated her mind on the detailed creation of a perfect suitor.

She began to grow quite fond of her Mr. Petersham. She felt a bit like the author of a novel as she developed the details of his character and appearance. She made him very wise for his years, and very gentle in his dealings with others. She made him generous to a fault, telling Ethelyn that his friends frequently came to him to borrow money.
He even hands out sovereigns to beggars on the street, she wrote, which makes me believe (although of course I have not asked him) that he is very well to pass
.

She began to see him in her mind and even to hear the quality of his voice. He was tall, of course, with thick sandy hair and a charming moustache. He had a youthful swing to his walk, a ready smile and a way of making her laugh at the most unexpected times.
The other day
, she related to Ethelyn,
I remarked that I hadn’t heard what he’d said because I’d been lost in thought. “Were you?” he quipped. “I didn’t know you were a stranger there.”
Actually it was a jibe that she’d overheard Thomas throw at Pippa, but it served her purpose very well.

As the weeks passed and Mr. Petersham’s character became more distinct, Camilla found herself almost enjoying the letter writing. There was something pleasing about creating a character, making him both unique and believable, and imagining how he would behave in various situations. She wrote to her sister-in-law about a dinner party and included a detailed account of what Mr. Petersham had eaten. (He would enjoy the roasts and the fowl, she decided, but he’d spurn the fish and the sweetmeats.) She created a little drama in which she was strolling with him down Bond Street which was crowded with people and carriages, and, right beside her, a pair of horses shied and broke into a gallop.
It was only by Mr. Petersham’s quick thinking and adept manipulation in snatching me out of the way
, she wrote,
that I was saved from being hideously trampled to death
.

In response to that little tale, however, Ethelyn wrote frigidly that she remained unimpressed.
It is quite appropriate for you to feel grateful to Mr. Petersham, Camilla, but gratitude is scarcely a reason for betrothal. I have yet to read, in all the mass of detail you write about his character and manner, any proof of the rectitude of his morals, the depth of his religious convictions or the quality of his connections. Until these things are answered, I shall not feel easy in my mind about this association. Incidentally, Camilla, I hope that during that Bond Street stroll you and Mr. Petersham were not without chaperonage. Do not tell me again that you are of age. You are an unwed woman and should not be gallivanting about town with only a gentleman for company. I am assuming that a footman or some other servant was walking behind you, for otherwise you would have set tongues wagging. It can do you no service to be spoken of as fast. If ever that epithet attaches itself to your name, I shall not, even with my influence, be able to convince Mr. Harbage that you are suitable for him
.

Camilla seethed with rage. There seemed to be no end to her sister-in-law’s determination to run her life. Angrily, she paced about the sitting room trying to find a way to end Ethelyn’s irritating nagging. Suddenly a wicked smile lit her face. She ran over to her desk, trimmed a pen and impetuously dashed off a note to end these arguments over her suitor once and for all:

Dear Ethelyn
,

Your last letter arrived yesterday and gave me much amusement, especially the realization that you still had hopes of making a match between your Mr. Harbage and myself. You will be surprised, I am sure, to learn that I am no longer available for Mr. Harbage or any other gentleman you may find suitable for me. Have you guessed, my dear? Yes, Mr. Petersham and I are wed! It was a small, simple ceremony befitting my status as widow and mother of a ten-year-old child, and it was followed by a dinner in my own dining room at which nothing unusual was served except champagne. You, my dear Ethelyn, are the very first to know. I hope you will be as happy for me as I am for myself
.

It wasn’t until she’d sent it off that Camilla began to feel misgivings. The letter had seemed, at first, like a little prank—a playful slap at Ethelyn’s overweening presumption. But once the letter had been posted, she recognized that she’d indulged in an enormous, bald-faced, impulsive and shameful lie. It was so great a lie that she winced inside at the realization that she was capable of such deception. What if someone close to her, someone here in London, learned what she’d done? How could she face the world?

Worse than anything, what if
Pippa
learned of it? Pippa, to whom she’d never told a lie in all these years. How would Pippa regard a mother who’d erected a complete, elaborate structure of fabrications and deceits?

She would have to confess to Ethelyn, of course. That was the only solution. But a confession would have unbearable ramifications. Her head swam with sickening terror just thinking about them. First Ethelyn would write several vituperative, stinging letters about Camilla’s sinfulness and depravity. Next would come the accusations that she’d fallen into corruption only since moving to London. Then would follow the insistence that they return to Wyckfield. And when Ethelyn had achieved
that
, Camilla had the horrifying premonition that she would find herself
married to Mr. Harbage
just to expiate her sin!

For the next few days, Camilla moved about the house in a kind of trance. She was aware that Pippa and Miss Townley watched her with worried eyes, but she couldn’t seem to rouse herself to make a decision on a course of action. The problem circled round and round her brain. On the one hand, the lie was too enormous to live with. On the other, Ethelyn’s revenge was too unbearable to contemplate.

In her attack of guilt and fear, she didn’t think about Ethelyn’s more immediate reaction to the news of her supposed marriage. In her agony over what to do about the lie, it quite slipped her mind that, to
Ethelyn, the news of her wedding at this time was still the
truth
. So when she came to the breakfast room one morning, only four days after the letter had been posted, she had no inkling that matters were about to be taken out of her hands.

She kissed Pippa on the cheek and said good morning to Miss Townley with forced good cheer. Pippa and Miss Townley exchanged worried glances. “Are you feeling well, Mama?” Pippa asked in concern.

“I’m fine, love. Why do you ask? Do I look hagged?”

“Not hagged,” the girl said kindly. “Just a bit … tired.”

“You look worse than hagged,” Miss Townley contradicted bluntly. “I’d guess you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in a week. You can’t make me believe, Miss Camilla, that there isn’t somethin’ amiss.”

“Don’t bully her, Miss Townley,” Pippa said in staunch defense of her mother. “She’d tell us if there was something really wrong, wouldn’t you, Mama?”

Camilla smiled at her daughter fondly and rumpled her hair. “I would if I felt it was your concern,” she said, taking her place and reaching for the teapot.

“That’s not right, Mama. Not right at all. If something was troubling
me
, you’d expect me to reveal it, even if it weren’t your concern, wouldn’t you?”

“But
everything
about you is my concern, dearest.”

“And everything about you is mine,” her daughter retorted promptly.

“The child is right,” Miss Townley declared. “You’ve been wanderin’ about this house like a frightened ghost for days now, and we think it’s time you told us about it. But I won’t bully you. Just want you to know we’re more worried
not
knowin’ than we’d be if we were told. That’s all I’m goin’ to say. Now drink your tea and read your letter in peace.”

“Letter?” Camilla asked, the teacup beginning to shake in her hand.

“Right there beside you,” Pippa said. “It’s from Aunt Ethelyn. I recognize the hand.”

Camilla slowly put down the cup. Aware that Miss Townley and Pippa were watching her, she concentrated on keeping up an appearance of calm. She picked up the letter, broke the seal and, with her lips pressed tightly together, she scanned the page.

Before Pippa’s and the governess’s horrified eyes, Camilla’s face turned ash-white. “Mama! What is it?” Pippa cried.

“Good God!” Camilla gasped. “Ethelyn… she’s
coming here
!”

Camilla’s announcement seemed to her listeners to be completely inadequate to explain her evident dismay. “Is Aunt Ethelyn coming for a visit?” Pippa asked, puzzled. “I don’t see … Is there something troubling about that ?”

But her mother didn’t answer. She just stared straight ahead of her with unseeing eyes. Miss Townley, with the familiarity of life-long closeness, reached over and pulled the letter from Camilla’s nerveless hand. “
My dear Camilla
,” she read aloud, “
if you are expecting our good wishes, you will be disappointed. Oswald and I are shocked and offended that you saw fit to take such a step without first seeking our approval
…” She looked up at Camilla curiously. “What step?” she asked bluntly.

Camilla turned to her and made an attempt to answer. But her courage and her voice failed her, and she merely pressed her lips together and shook her head. With a helpless wave of her hand, she signaled her old governess to go on.

Miss Townley returned to her reading. “
Our first reaction after the shock of your announcement was anger. We almost decided to cut ourselves off from any connection with you at all. But after a night filled with prayer and meditation, I thought better of taking such a drastic step without seeking further enlightenment. After all, I do have Philippa to think about. Therefore, we have decided to meet your Mr. Petersham before we judge him …”

“Who’s Mr. Petersham?” Pippa asked.

Camilla cast her daughter a look of agonized shame and dropped her head in her hands.

“Petersham … Petersham …” Miss Townley mused. “You’ve mentioned that name to me. I remember! The day Pippa and I left for Wyckfield. Who is he, Miss Camilla? What sort of fix have you fallen into?”

“J-Just read the rest,” Camilla mumbled from behind her hands.

“…
before we judge him. As much as I despise the prospect of setting foot within the environs of that loathsome city where you’ve chosen to reside, Oswald and I will pay a visit and see for ourselves what sort of husband you’ve chosen
. Good God!
Husband
?”

Pippa gasped. “Mama? Has Aunt Ethelyn gone mad?”

“No, dearest,” Camilla said, lifting her head and throwing her daughter a glance of abject shame, “I think
I
have.”

“Have you
married
someone?” Miss Townley asked, aghast.

“No, of course not. That is … not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” Miss Townley frowned at her in disgust. “What sort of answer is that? Either one is married or one isn’t.”

“I’m not married. Surely you must know that.” Camilla’s cheeks became suffused with color. “But I’ve let Ethelyn believe I am.”

“Good heavens!
How
?”

“I just wrote and told her I’d done it.”

“But, Mama, do you mean to say that you concocted a
lie
?” Pippa stared at her mother with something akin to awe.

Camilla’s eyes filled with tears, and she nodded in humiliation. “Yes, I did. Oh, Pippa, I’m so
ashamed
—”

“What I’d like to know,” Miss Townley demanded, “is
why
? I’ve known you too long, Miss Camilla, to believe that you’d do such a thing without provocation.”

Camilla shook her head. “Thank you for saying that, Ada. It’s kind of you to try to find justification for what I’ve done. And I
did
have provocation, but it doesn’t excuse—”

“I ain’t impressed with self-flagellation,” Miss Townley growled. “Just tell us why you did it.”

“Well, you see, Ethelyn had taken it into her head that it was time for me to remarry. She’d even found someone whom she considered suitable. Pippa, my love, I hope you’re able, at your tender age, to understand and forgive me for what I’ve done and what I’m going to say. I was not very happy in my marriage to your father, you see, and—”

“Oh, I knew that. I’ve always known. Papa was not the sort with whom one could be … well, comfortable.”

“Pippa!” Camilla blinked at her daughter in astonishment. “I didn’t dream you could discern—”

“Children can discern a great deal more than parents imagine. Sybil and I were talking about it just the other day. But do go on with your explanation, Mama. I’m all agog to learn who this Mr. Petersham is.”

“He isn’t anyone. That is, he isn’t anyone real.”

“I’m becomin’ very muddled, Miss Camilla,” the governess sighed. “I wish you’d tell the story straight.”

“I’m trying to. Oh, dear, where was I?”

“You were saying that you weren’t very happy in your marriage,” Pippa reminded her.

“Yes. And I am determined not to marry again. Ever. I want us to be able to remain just as we are now, all by ourselves, with no one to order us about or dominate our lives. And things were going along so well for us when Ethelyn started to thrust her Mr. Harbage before me—”

“Harbage?” Pippa’s eyebrows rose. “Mr.
Josiah
Harbage?”

“Yes.” Camilla was baffled. “How did you know?”

“He came to dinner while Sybil and I were at Wyckfield. I
met
him. He
couldn’t
be the man Aunt Ethelyn wants you to wed.”

“But he is.”

Pippa whooped. “Mr.
Harbage
? He’s as fat as Uncle Oswald and as sour as a lemon! All he ever talks about is vice and sin. He lectured us on all of the deadly ones except gluttony, which is the sin he forgets about because he indulges in it all the time. Aunt Ethelyn must think you’re past your last prayers.”