The Folly (10 page)

“What a gloomy place this is,” Elizabeth said, sitting down next to Jeremy on the bench.  “What do you suppose they did here?”

“They celebrated Mass and possibly performed weddings, christenings and funeral services, just as in any church.”

“Do you think they had a priest?”  asked Elizabeth, trying to picture a family gathered in the small room, celebrating their Popish Mass.

“They must have.  A lot of families hid priests during that time.  It was a dangerous time to be a Catholic.  I
’
m sure they went to church on Sundays like everyone else and then practiced their own religion in secret, hence the chapel.”
 

“It must be awful to live among people and feel like you don’t belong and all because they choose to worship the same God differently.”  Elizabeth didn
’
t know any Catholics, but she knew the hatred that was prevalent among the Protestants to this day.

“Yes, it is terrible to live in a place where you feel like you don’t belong. 
Elizabeth
, I feel like I don’t belong here. 
Father doesn’t want me here and although he hasn’t said it aloud, he wishes me to leave.
”  Jeremy looked down at his boots, not wanting to face her.  “
It’s time for me to think of my future
.”

“Will you go to Londo
n?” Elizabeth asked, trying to
hide her despair. 

“A little further than that.  I was thinking of going to New York or Boston.” 

“You
’
re going to America?  Why, Jeremy?”  The thought of never seeing him again sliced through her heart like a knife. 
Elizabeth
blinked away tears, not wanting him to see her agony.

“Unless I go back into the military, I have no purpose.  A man in my position isn
’
t expected to do anything more than attend endless balls and soirees in pursuit of a suitable wife.  I can also frequent gaming h
a
lls or brothels in pursuit of pleasure
,
or retire to the country where I can ride to hounds and have weekly tea with the vicar.  That’s not a life that appeals to me.  America is a place where a man can reinvent himself and start fresh.  It’s not as steeped in these age
-
old traditions and prejudices.  There is nothing for me here, except you, and that makes it all the more important for me to go before it’s too late.”  Jeremy was staring at the crucifix on the wall, his face a mask of misery.

“Jeremy, please don’t go.  I
couldn’t
bear it if you
left
.  I had no idea how empty my life was before you came.”  Elizabeth reached for his hand, forcing him to face her.  “Please, don’t go,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks.  Jeremy pulled her to him, kissing her tear
-
stained face. 

“Oh,
Elizabeth
, it’s because of you that I must leave or I
’
ll go mad.”  His lips found hers as Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.  This was the first time anyone had kissed her like that
,
and she melted into his embrace as his tongue slid into her mouth.  Her heart pounded in her chest
, making her feel as
if she had just woken up from a long dream.

“Promise me you won’t go,” she whispered as they finally pulled apart.  “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Jeremy answered
,
against his better judgment.

Chapter
1
6

Henry set the
candle
on the marble mant
e
l of the fireplace and settled himself in a comfortable armchair, lighting his cigar and propping his feet on the little damask upholstered footstool.  He rarely visited this room, but tonight he had a strange desire to speak to Mariah
,
and he could only do it while gazing at her face.  The flickering candlelight gave the impression of movement
,
and Henry could almost believe that the face in the painting had come to life, looking down at him with weary amusement
;
the way she did while she was still alive.  Her dark eyes seemed to be staring straight at him, making him shift uncomfortably in his chair and look away for a moment
,
until he was ready to face her again. 

Whenever Henry looked at this painting, he always remembered the first time he laid eyes on Mariah.
 
It had been in the spring of 1786 at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.  His friend, Nathan Shipley, had dragged him to see a performance of Othello, since his current paramour was playing Desdemona’s maid.  Henry had never liked that particular play, but he had nothing better to do that evening
,
and Nathan was very persuasive.  He wanted to show off his mistress to the whole world
. 
Henry was secretly a little envious of the obvious passion the two shared.  He had enjoyed plenty of women in the past few years, but he
’
d never actually been in love.  In lust, definitely.  In love, never. 

His father had been pressuring him to marry before he died, but now there was no hurry.  Sir Jules had died nearly a year ago
,
and now Henry could take his sweet time.  What was the rush?  He was only nineteen and the world was his oyster.  He had money, a title, a townhouse in the city
,
and a family seat in the country
;
and the freedom to enjoy it all.  He spent his nights gambling, wenching
,
and attending the various social functions to which he was invited
;
thanks to his status as a desirable prospect for insipid young ladies ready to be married off to anyone who was fool enough to ask. 

The lights went down and the play began, distracting Henry from his tho
u
ghts.  He stifled a yawn, hoping the play would go by quickly
,
and they would take Hetty and some willing, young friend to supper
;
before moving on to more pleasurable activities.  That was Henry’s last thought before he saw her.  The minute Desdemona stepped onto the stage, Henry was smitten.  This wasn’t the usual English rose with pale cheeks and flaxen hair.  This Desdemona was dark and fiery
,
with creamy skin and full lips.  Her luscious breasts heaved above the
low-cut
gown
,
and Henry felt
himself
stirring as he shifted in his seat to avoid
embarrassment
.  He never took his eyes off the stage
,
and nearly cried when the Moor suffocated his wife with the pillow, punishing her for her imagined sins.  The audience applauded wildly, but Henry just sat there, wondering how to make the acquaintance of the lovely Mariah Thornton. 

Hetty Squire was only too happy to assist in the introduction.  She was a great friend of Mariah
,
and tried to convince her to join them for supper, but Mariah smiled sweetly, expressed her gratitude at the invitation, but declined
to come
.  Henry left the theater bitterly disappointed, refusing to join Hetty and Nathan for supper
,
and
walking
to Whitechapel where he availed himself of his favorite whore, closing his eyes and pretending she was the beautiful Mariah Thornton. 

Henry went back to the theater for every performance
,
and filled Mariah’s dressing room with flowers
night after night
.  He tried to impress her with exotic blooms, lavish gifts and flowery compliments, but Mariah remained elusive.  She invited him to her dressing room, drank a glass of champagne and flirted outrageously, but never accepted any of his invitations or gifts.  Henry kept asking if there was someone else in her life, but she declined to
answer
, smiling seductively and lowering her eyes in mock
embarrassment
.   According to Hetty, Mariah was not seeing anyone else
,
and Henry continued his pursuit
,
hoping to eventually wear her down.   He hadn’t even visited a brothel in weeks.  The girls no longer held an appeal for him.  He wanted his Mariah. 

It wasn’t until July that Mariah finally relented
,
and accepted his invitation to supper.  Henry was so overjoyed that he took her to the most expensive restaurant he could think of,
trying to impress her with the only thing he had plenty of –
-
money.  He knew his looks would not win her over, but if she was anything like other women, she would be seduced by luxury and comfort
;
not to mention jewelry and beautiful gowns.  Henry was willing to pay for it all, if only Mariah would grant him her favors, but it wasn’t so simple.  Mariah went to supper, accepted an emerald necklace, but still denied Henry what he wanted most.  She said that she was a God-fearing Christian
,
and she believed in the sanctity of marriage.  Her future husband would be her only lover. 

By this time, Henry was so smitten that he proposed marriage on the spot, scandalizing everyone he knew.  To keep an actress as a mistress was socially
acceptable
behavior
, to marry her and make her a
l
ady was not.  Henry married Mariah as quickly as possible and whisked her away to the country, putting his townhouse in London up for sale.  He wanted her as far away from her old life as possible
,
and he wanted her all to himself. 

If Henry had to name the happiest day of his life, it would have been his wedding day, followed by the wedding night, which fulfilled all his expectations.  Mariah was shy and afraid, but he didn’t mind.  He was gratified to know that he
would
be her first and last.  She was truly his at last.  Henry
diligently
made love to her every night
,
and it wasn’t long before his wife announced her pregnancy.  Henry was
over the moon
.  He watched her body swell and ripen with new life
,
and he counted his blessings.  For once in his life Henry was truly happy.  

Mariah gave birth to their son a few weeks early, but the doctor pronounced the lad to be healthy and
strong.
  Henry held the baby in his arms
,
marveling
at his full head of dark hair and his dark eyes, so much like his mother’s.  He was a beautiful baby and Henry doted on the little boy.  He had his son and heir and other children would follow.  It wasn’t until the child was around three
-
years
-
old that Henry began to notice certain things.  There was something in his smile and the way he
cocked
his head
,
that reminded Henry uncomfortably of John Sutton, Mariah’s frequent leading man.  Henry dismissed his suspicions as being ridiculous, but as the boy grew older the resemblance
grew
stronger
, causing
doubts
to gnaw at Henry’s insides
.  Henry could no longer ignore the fact that his
beautiful
boy
looked nothing like him
,
and that he favored what he ass
u
med to be his father in looks.  What
added to Henry’s bitterness was the fa
ct that Mariah had suffered several miscarriages, leaving Jeremy an only child. 

Unable to stand his suspicions any longer, Henry traveled to London to confront the actor.  He invited himself in for a drink
,
and tried to get him to confess an affair with Mariah, but Sutton wouldn’t say a word.  Henry knew the man had a weakness for drink, so he plied him with alcohol until he was nearly insensible, but he held firm.  He didn’t admit to anything,
but
he didn’t need to.  Sitting across from him in his shabby dressing room and seeing his face washed clean of his stage make-up, Henry had all the proof he needed.  The way Sutton cocked his head, the way he smiled, the way he absentmindedly tugged at his forelock while thinking of an answer
,
were all things that Henry saw in Jeremy. No wonder the child was born early.  Mariah had already been pregnant by the time she married him. 

Henry thanked John Sutton for joining him for a drink and wished him a good night.  They would never see each other again, but Henry would be damned if he let this insult go unpunished.   

**

             
Henry looked up at the portrait, returning his late wife’s haughty gaze. 
“I suppose you
’
re happy,” he addressed the portrait.
 
“Your son is back safe and sound, here to torment me with his presence.  Evidently, it’s not bad enough that he had the audacity not to die, but now he
’
s set his sights on my new wife, probably as part of some cosmic payback for what I did to his father.” 

Henry sucked on his cigar for a moment, his eyes never leaving the portrait.  “You didn’t know, did you?  You thought he drank himself to death after you left, but I left nothing to chance
;
in case you decided to leave
me
and return to that pathetic excuse
of
a man.  It’s not that he didn’t drink.  The man could drink anyone under the table, but he would, no doubt, have lived on.  I paid a couple of sailors to toss him off a bridge into the Thames.  With him out of the way, you had nothing left to draw you back to London.  You were all mine.”

Henry uncrossed his legs and took a sip of brandy, putting the glass back on the polished end table.  “You were a good actress, Mariah.  I give you that. 
You
pretended you loved me so convincingly
,
that at times I actually forgot why you married me.  I did love you, you know.  I would have made you happy if you ever gave me the chance.  If Jeremy had been mine, how different our lives could have been.  Instead, I married a woman shunned by society, accepted her bastard as my own to avoid scandal
,
and ended up with no heir of my own to carry on the family name and the title.  Ironic, wouldn’t you say, my dear?

Oh, if you could see me now, you would be so pleased.  I
’
m married to another harlot who can’t stand the sight of me
,
and flushes my seed from her womb as soon as I leave the room
,
and now she is spreading her legs for your son.  It’s priceless, really.”

Henry rose from his seat, stubbing out his cigar in a nearby ashtray.  No doubt the servants would be wondering tomorrow who had been in this room.  He gave the portrait one last look.  “I
’
m not going to let this go unpunished, even if I have to break my promise to you.  Why should I keep my word when you broke every promise you ever made to me?  Can’t answer that, can you?”
 
Henry turned off the lamp and left the room, Mariah’s face swallowed by the darkness.