The Landower Legacy (50 page)

Uncle Harold began: “No, Imogen. You know …”

“I could contest the will,” she repeated. “But well … we have decided to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“It was Cousin Mary’s wish that I should inherit,” I said. “She taught me a great deal about the management of the estate.”

“It seems wrong for a woman,” put in Aunt Imogen.

“For you too then?” I asked.

“I have a husband.”

Poor Uncle Harold! He looked at me apologetically.

“I can assure you, Aunt Imogen, that the estate, far from suffering under the management of Cousin Mary, improved considerably. I intend that it shall continue to do so under mine.”

I thought Uncle Harold was going to break into applause, but he remembered the presence of Aunt Imogen in time.

I said: “I am anxious about Olivia. She does not seem well.”

“She is in a delicate condition,” Aunt Imogen reminded me.

“Even so, she seems rather weak.”

“She was never strong.”

“Where is her husband?”

“He will be here soon, I imagine.”

“Is he out every night?”

“He has business.”

“I should have thought he would have wanted to be with his wife at such a time.”

“My dear Caroline,” said Aunt Imogen with a little laugh, “you
have lived with Cousin Mary, a spinster, and you are one yourself. Such do not know very much about the ways of husbands.”

“But I do know something about the consideration of one human being towards another.”

I enjoyed sparring with Aunt Imogen and having Uncle Harold looking on like some referee who would like to give the points to me if he dared.

Her attitude towards me amused me. She disapproved of me, but as a woman of property I had risen considerably in her estimation; and although she deplored the fact that I had taken Tressidor from its rightful owner, she admired me for doing so.

But I could see that I should not get any real understanding of Olivia’s state of health from her, and I decided that in the morning I would question Miss Bell.

I retired to bed soon after that, but I did not expect to sleep.

I could not throw off my melancholy.

I had just emerged from the tragedy of Cousin Mary’s death to be presented with the possibility of Olivia’s. But she had let her imagination run on, I tried to assure myself. She just had pre-confinement nerves, if there were such things, and I was sure there were. To face such an ordeal so soon after having gone through the whole thing such a short while before was enough to frighten anyone … especially someone as nervous as Olivia.

I tossed and turned and found myself going through all the drama of Cousin Mary’s accident, and then coming back to Olivia.

It was a wretched night.

In the morning I came face to face with Jeremy. He looked as debonair as ever.

“Why, Caroline,” he cried, “how wonderful to see you!”

“How are you?” I replied coldly, implying that the question was merely rhetorical and that I had no interest in the answer.

“Much the same as ever. And you?”

“The same. I wish I could say that of Olivia.”

“Oh well, in the circumstances … She’ll be all right.”

“I feel uneasy about her.”

“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t know much about these occasions, would you?”

“No. But I do know when people look ill.”

He smiled at me. “It is so sweet of you to concern yourself. Congratulations by the way.”

“On what?”

“On your inheritance, of course. What an extraordinary thing! Who would have thought …”

“Certainly not you. I confess it was a surprise to me.”

“To fall right into your lap like that.”

His eyes were shining with admiration as they looked at me and I was carried right back to the days of our courtship. With the aura of affluence I now must look as desirable to him as I had then when he had thought of my fortune as well as my person.

“Cousin Mary and I were very close to each other,” I said. “Her death has been a great blow to me.”

“Of course.” His expression changed; now he was all concern and sympathy. “A great tragedy. Riding accident, wasn’t it? I do feel for you, Caroline.”

He was adept at expressing emotion. His face fitted into the right lines. Now he was very sympathetic, but in my newly acquired wisdom I saw the acquisitive lights shining through.

It amused me to think that he was contemplating my fortune and I wondered how Olivia’s was faring in his hands.

“I hear you enjoy the gaming tables,” I said maliciously.

“How did you hear this?”

“Oh, I have friends.”

“You heard that in Cornwall!”

“No. Well, visitors from London, you know.”

“Oh.” He was puzzled. “Who doesn’t like a flutter? I could take you along while you are here.”

“It is not the sort of thing that appeals to me. I like to keep what I have.”

“You could add to it.”

“I might not have that success and I should not care very much if I won and on the other hand I should hate to lose. You see, I should be a very poor gambler.”

“All the same, I’d like you to come along … just for once.”

“I’m here to see Olivia. I shouldn’t have time. I shan’t be able to stay very long.”

“No. You have your responsibilities. Shall you keep the estate?”

“What do you mean?”

“I wondered if you might sell out and come back to London.”

“The whole point of my having it is for me to carry on as before.”

“Well, who knows? I’m so glad you’re here, Caroline. I have been thinking a lot about you.”

“I am sure you have been … when you heard of my inheritance.”

“I always did.”

“Well, I must go now to Olivia.”

I passed on. And I thought: He hasn’t changed. He is very good-looking, very charming—and very interested in my inheritance.

A few days passed and I was with Olivia most of the time. I found comfort being with her as this took me away from memories of Cousin Mary’s death. I found I could laugh a little. She was very interested in Jamie McGill and asked many questions about him. I tried to remember all I could of his eccentric ways and I talked at some length about the bees and the animals he looked after.

She said: “How I should love to see him.”

“You shall come down and stay … you and Livia and the new baby. You shall spend the whole of the summer there. Why not? It’s mine now. Not that Cousin Mary wouldn’t have welcomed you.”

“Oh, I should like that, Caroline.”

Then I talked about what we would do. I told her of the old mine and the legends about it and how it was said to be haunted. “We’d ride out to it, Olivia. You’d love the moor. It’s wild … in a way, untamed. I suppose it is because it can’t be cultivated … the stones, and the little streams and the gorse and all the Cornish legends—knackers and piskies and ghosts. We’d have a wonderful time. Oh, Olivia, you are going to come. Perhaps I’ll take you back with me.”

“I should love it, Caroline.”

“What about your husband?” I looked at her sharply. I had scarcely mentioned him since my arrival. Nor had she. Perhaps she thought that as I had once nearly married him, he was not a subject I should care to discuss.

“Oh, Jeremy … he wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.”

“He wouldn’t want to lose his family, would he?”

“He’d be all right.”

“Perhaps he would want to come, too.”

“Oh … he’s not really a country person.”

No, I thought. He likes the gaiety of town, the gaming clubs, the hostesses … Oh, definitely not a country person.

I went on planning what we should do. “Too late for the midsummer bonfires,” I said. “Well, that’s for next year. You’re going to make an annual thing of your visits, you know.”

Nanny Loman brought in Livia and she and I played on the floor together. Olivia watched us with shining eyes.

“You’re better with her than I am,” she said. “Well, I suppose all the time she’s been growing up I’ve been pregnant.”

“You’ll feel better soon. The Cornish air will work wonders. There’s a little boy … The Landowers’ … I’m rather fond of him. He’ll be a playmate for Livia.”

“I long for it, Caroline.”

“It’s something to look forward to.”

When I was alone with Miss Bell, she said to me: “Olivia has been much better since you came.”

“I’m worried about her,” I replied.

She nodded. “Yes. She is far from well. She was never as strong as you were and she suffered a lot with Livia. This was too soon … too soon.” She pursed her lips and put her head a little on one side. I knew she was expressing disapproval of Jeremy and I wondered what she knew. I resisted the temptation to ask for I was sure she would consider it was disloyal to discuss her employer; and being Miss Bell, with ingrained ideas of the supremacy of the male, she would doubtless consider Jeremy, rather than Olivia, her employer.

A few days later Olivia’s pains started and the household was in a turmoil. Her labour was long and arduous and I was in a state of deep anxiety.

Miss Bell and I sat together waiting for news. I felt very melancholy. I kept thinking of Cousin Mary and how quickly death can take away.

I was trembling with anxiety and the hours of waiting seemed like an eternity.

At last the child was born—stillborn. I felt myself enveloped in terrible depression for Olivia was very seriously ill.

I could not rest. I went to see her. She looked—pale and hardly aware of anything. She did open her eyes and smile at me.

“Caroline.” She did not exactly speak but her lips shaped the words. “Remember.”

I sat beside her for a while until she appeared to be sleeping. I tiptoed out and went to my room because the sight of her so wan, so lost to the world, was hard for me to bear.

I did not undress. I sat there with my door open—for my room
was next to hers and I had a feeling that she might wish to see me, and if she did I wanted to know and be there.

It was past midnight and the house was quiet. I could not resist the impulse to go to her. It was almost as though she were calling me.

She was lying on her bed, her eyes open. She looked at me and smiled.

“Caroline …”

I went to the bed, sat down and took her hand.

“You came …” she said.

“Yes, dear sister, I’m here.”

“Stay. Remember …”

“Yes, I’ll stay and I’ll remember. You’re worried about Livia. There’s no need. If it were necessary I would take her. She would be as my own.”

She moved her head slightly and smiled.

We sat there for some time in silence.

Then she said: “I’m dying, Caroline.”

“No … no … You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “The baby died. He’ll never know anything. He died before he was born.”

“It happens now and then,” I said. “You’ll have more … healthy ones. All will be well.”

“No more … never again. Livia …”

“Livia is all right. If … it happened, I will take her. She’d be mine.”

“I’m happy now. I’m not sorry …”

“Olivia, you’ve got to think of living. There’s so much to live for.”

She shook her head.

“Your child … your husband …”

“You’ll take Livia. Him …”

I put my face close to her lips.

“He … the money …”

I thought, Rosie was right. And Olivia knows.

“Don’t worry about money.”

“Debts,” she whispered. “I hate debts.”

“You haven’t anything to worry about. You’ve got to get well.”

“Flora … Flora Carnaby …”

I felt sick. She knew then. Was this the reason for her apathy? Olivia had discovered the perfidy of men … just as I had. But
whereas I had hated fiercely she had given up hope and looked forward to death.

As I looked at my sister I felt the old bitterness well up within me. How dared he use her like this! Take her money and waste it on gaming tables and other women. I felt an overwhelming desire to hurt him as he had hurt her.

My voice was shaking as I bent over her and spoke to her.

“Olivia, there’s nothing to worry about. Don’t think of anything but getting better. You’ve got me and I’ll look after you. You’ll come to Cornwall. You’ll meet the people who interest you so much. We’ll be together … the three of us, you, me and Livia. We’ll shut out the rest of the world. Nobody’s going to hurt you or me any more.”

She was clinging to my hand and a certain peace seemed to come into her face.

I sat there for a long time holding her hand, and I knew that my presence comforted her.

She never spoke to me again.