Heirs of Ravenscar (29 page)

He was tired, and worn out from worry. For once in his life he did not want to face reality. Yet he knew he must. Trouble was staring him in the face.

Inside the gazebo, Edward put down the glass of wine, took a box of Swan Vestas out of his pocket and struck a match, lit the candle in the hurricane lamp.

Once settled in the chair, he let himself drift, random thoughts trickling through his head. After a moment, he closed his eyes, again pushing reality away …

‘Ned, Ned, it's me …'

Vaguely, he heard a voice. He roused himself, and saw his wife standing on the steps of the gazebo, staring at him.

He pushed himself up in the chair, blinking in the dim light, and as he pulled himself back into the present he realized that she looked unusually beautiful tonight, ethereal, otherworldly, in a floating white muslin dress.

‘I'm afraid I fell asleep,' he murmured, ‘I'm so sorry … I'd better come in for supper, I suppose. Just us, is it?'

‘Yes, and no you can't come in, not yet.' Elizabeth stepped into the gazebo, continued, ‘Supper's not ready.' Moving forward, coming closer to him, he noticed that her face was extremely pale, her silvery-blue eyes filled with concern. He knew she was going to tackle him, ask what was amiss. He held himself still, knowing he could no longer hide his problems. But he must stay calm.

When she came to a stop she sat down in the chair at the other side of the table, reached out, touched his arm. ‘I know full well you're very upset, truly perturbed, Ned, so please don't deny it, I also know you can't sleep … and that you are pre occupied. Please tell me what this is about. Is it George? I feel that it is. Because of the things he's saying about your mother. Isn't that it?'

Edward did not answer her.

After a moment, she exclaimed, ‘Listen to me! He's always been jealous of you, everyone knows that, and if he can make trouble for you he will. He's an intriguer, a schemer, full of treachery. Actually, I firmly believe he is … wicked.
Bad
, Ned. Really bad.'

Taking a deep breath, using his discipline to keep his voice steady, his demeanour neutral, Edward said, ‘There's something I must tell you, Elizabeth. It's something you have a right to know.'

‘You sound so serious, so
grave
,' she replied in a low voice, unexpectedly filling with fear, and not sure why. ‘Is there something else wrong?'

‘I am facing catastrophe,' he announced in his mellifluous voice, managing to keep it steady. But he was despairing inside, his nerves taut, and he suddenly wondered if he actually could tell her, if he dare …

‘Oh, Ned, it can't be all
that
bad,' Elizabeth was saying, propelling him out of his inner thoughts back to the awful reality of this moment.

He still did not speak. He could not. Then at long last he murmured, ‘It's worse.'

‘I don't know what you mean. Please tell me what's wrong, Ned.'

Edward took a deep breath and swivelled slightly in the chair, so that he sat facing her. He asked, ‘Do you remember how I behaved when we met? That I told you I didn't want to get married? That I was too young?'

‘Yes, I do, and I became self-conscious about my age. I thought you didn't want to marry me because I was five years older than you.'

‘That wasn't the reason. Age differences have never worried me. They mean nothing.'

‘I'm afraid I'm still not following you.' Her puzzlement was evident. ‘What are you getting at?'

‘I couldn't marry you.'

She frowned, shaking her head. ‘I don't understand.'

‘I couldn't marry you, because I wasn't free. I was already married.'

Elizabeth sat gaping at him, utterly astounded, her eyes wide and staring. She shook her head in a denying way. ‘No, no, that can't be! It can't be. Tell me it's not true, Ned,
please
,' she pleaded, tears in her voice.

‘I can't tell you that. It is true.'

Her eyes held his, and she whispered in a raspy voice, ‘You committed bigamy, is that what you're saying?'

‘Yes. It happened so long ago, I'd pushed it out of my mind … hadn't thought of it in years …' His voice petered out.

‘Where is she now?' Elizabeth asked in a voice he could hardly hear.

‘She's dead.'

‘When did she die?'

‘A year after you and I were married. She and I had
separated. We weren't together anymore. It was amicable. She had been sick and suddenly wanted to go and live in … Norwich. Alone.'

‘Who was she?'

‘Elinor Burton.'

Elizabeth shook her head; she did not know the woman, and she found herself incapable of speech anyway. She was reeling from his words. He was correct. It
was
a catastrophe.

‘She was a widow,' he volunteered. ‘The widow of Sir Ellis Nutting. Her father was Lord Kincannon.'

Elizabeth swallowed hard, blinking back her tears. ‘Who knows about this?'

He shook his head helplessly. ‘I thought no one did. Until you told me the other day about George's conversation with Roland Davenport.'

Elizabeth was shaking and she was unable to keep her voice steady, could barely ask the next question. ‘Who married you?' she finally managed to say.

‘A priest. In Greenwich. But he would never speak.'

‘Then how does George know?' she asked, her voice quavering, tears filling her eyes, trickling down her face unchecked.

‘I don't think he does know, at least not the
facts
. Maybe he's heard some sort of rumours.'

‘He must know
something
,' she snapped, her voice unexpectedly hardening.

‘Perhaps,' he agreed quietly. ‘When Elinor died I remember worrying at the time that she might have confessed to her priest, wanting to make atonement for her sins, wanting forgiveness on her deathbed.'

‘
George knows!
That's all that concerns
me
.' Elizabeth stared at him coldly, then brushed the tears away from her face with her fingertips.

At a loss for words, Edward was silent. He simply sat
there, staring back at her, his face as white as bleached bone, his blue eyes filled with intense distress.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she sprang up out of the chair, and cried in a furious voice, ‘How
could
you?
How could
you marry me
? When you were already married? Our marriage is not legal, and you've always known it. Our children are illegitimate. Seven of them. Your heirs are not your heirs. GEORGE IS YOUR HEIR.' Elizabeth swung around, headed for the steps, seemed about to rush out of the gazebo, and then, changing her mind, she swivelled to face him.

He had also jumped up and stepped towards her, saying, ‘Elizabeth, please listen to me –' He broke off when he saw the horror on her face.

She stretched out her arms, held them in front of her, her palms towards him, as if she were pushing him away before he even got close to her.

He stopped dead in his tracks. His heart sank.

She shouted in a very loud, clear voice, ‘Oh, God! Oh God! What are we going to do? This is disastrous. Our lives are in ruins.
You
are ruined in business. I am ruined and our children, our innocent children, they are all ruined. And all because of you, Edward Deravenel. You lied to me!'

‘I did not lie. I never said anything –'

‘You lied by omission!' Her face was twisted with grief and rage, and she had turned as white as he was. ‘No wonder your brother is calling you names, licking his chops. He's got you – by the balls!' she rasped, filled with the deepest hatred for him.

‘I think I have a solution,' Edward began, ‘the only solution–' He stopped speaking. She had run down the steps and out of the gazebo, fleeing. He ran after her, fell over a large stone protruding from the rockery; he righted himself, and ran on, crossing the gardens. She was nowhere in sight; he
sped up to the house, ran through the rooms, seeking her, calling her name.

She was not there. Ignoring Faxton, the butler, who was gaping at him, he went back outside, headed in the direction of the marsh which had a view of the Dungeness lighthouse. He called her name, again and again. There was no response. She had vanished.

Edward covered most of the marsh, thankful that it was only eight o'clock and still light. But he knew dusk would start to descend soon, and he was anxious, concerned. Where was Elizabeth?

It suddenly struck him that she may have gone to the strip of land which he had had cleared years ago, and where the children went to play most of the time.

Within minutes he arrived at the area, and he immediately spotted her, sitting on the wooden seat, huddled over. An enormous sense of relief swept through him, and he began to run faster.

She did not look up when he came to a standstill next to her. Curled in a corner of the seat, her legs under her, she was sobbing as if her heart would break. It was broken, he knew that. But he could mend it. He had to do so for all of their sakes, especially his children.

Edward reached out, put a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off, mumbled, ‘Get away from me. Don't touch me. You'll never touch me again. Just go away. Leave me.'

He pulled away from her, but only slightly. He said softly, ‘I'm sorry, Elizabeth, sorry for causing you this pain. It was a stupid thing to do. I just … she had become a memory by the time I met you, and I wanted you so much. I loved you.'

‘Lusted after me, don't you mean?' she hissed.

‘Yes, that's true, I
did
have a raging desire for you physically, more than for any other woman. Believe me, it's true. And I had to have you… I just had to, Elizabeth. And you were the virtuous widow. You wanted marriage, so I married you.'

‘And gave me seven children. All bastards.'

‘Don't! Don't say that. I can fix it, I can make everything right.'

Something in her broke; she stood up, looked directly at him. Her eyes were full of hatred for him. Before he could move, she rushed at him, began to beat him on his chest with her clenched fists, beating him harder and harder, screaming, ‘You have ruined my life, and the lives of our children. I loathe you for what you've done to all of us! I'll never forgive you, Edward Deravenel.
Never
.'

He managed to grab her hands, and held her by her wrists, looking into her face. ‘I've been wrong. I'm so very sorry. I can make everything all right, if only you'll listen.'

‘Why should I listen to
you
!' she exclaimed, but her energy was sagging slightly; also, something inside her told her to listen to him. She had to, there was no choice. And then she began to cry, the tears rolling down her face. Immediately he pulled her into his arms, wrapping them around her, holding her close. She wept and wept; he consoled her, stroked her hair, kissed her face and her eyelids. Slowly he calmed her; after a while he led her back to the garden seat.

Sitting down next to her, he brought an arm around her shoulders, and said gently, ‘I know I've hurt you, and I am so sorry. But if you'll listen, I will tell you what I can do to solve our problem.'

She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything.

‘I must marry you, and immediately. Legitimize our union. That is imperative.'

‘How can we do that? Someone will find out.'

‘They won't.'

‘But we'll have to go to a church or a registry office. How can we, just like that? It's not possible. You're so well known.'

‘That's quite true, you're right. However, I married you in secret once, and I must marry you in secret again.'

‘Where?'

‘In the chapel at Ravenscar.'

‘When?'

‘As soon as possible. We'll go up there tomorrow on the train, get married at once. It's a perfect time. My mother and the children are here. Once we arrive, I'll see Father O'Connor in the village. He'll marry us, I've no doubt about that.'

‘But he'll think it strange, and he'll talk. You know what village priests are like … like old women, gossips.'

‘No, no, not Father Michael. He's always been devoted to the Deravenels. He is well looked after at Ravenscar, I can assure you of that, and he's been our family priest for over thirty years, ever since he came over from Ireland to take his uncle's place with us. You must believe me, he's extremely trustworthy. And as silent as the grave.'

‘But won't he think it's peculiar? Marrying us again, when he believes we are in fact married?'

‘I shall tell him that we want to renew our vows, that it's a romantic thing … that we are planning another child, and that our stay at Ravenscar is our second honeymoon.'

Drawing away from him, she laughed in his face.

He ignored this sudden spat of anger, and said, ‘It's the only solution, believe me. I've wracked my brains. We shall be married in the chapel, and only the three of us shall know. Once we are married, George can say anything he likes. You will be my legal wife.'