The Sea Between (26 page)

Charlotte watched him in tight-lipped silence. If her thoughts had been in a turmoil before, they were in a far, far worse turmoil now. Disgust, anger, outrage, shock, disbelief…even a few grains of pity, too—they were all there, clamouring in her head, along with all the people who were caught up in this terrible mess. William, Richard, Eliza, her father, Letitia, Ann…

It would break Ann’s heart when she found out that George had been unfaithful to her, and that Eliza—Eliza of all people—was pregnant with his child. Tears began to slide down her cheeks. It would break her father’s heart, too, and Letitia’s. It would rip the family apart. It was ripping Richard apart already. And it would be the finish of George when all this came out. His partnership with William would be in ruins, his marriage wrecked, and the family would never speak to him again. As for William…more tears spilled down her cheeks. Poor William hadn’t done anything wrong at all, but he’d suffered a beating from Richard, and, as if that wasn’t bad enough, his fiancée had doubted his integrity. William would never forgive her. Never. And she would never forgive George! As for Eliza…how could she do this to Ann? Ann, who had been so kind to her. And then to deliberately lie about William! Why? What harm had he ever done her? None. She’d told George that she would refuse to name the father. So why had she named one? Had Richard forced her to give him a name? Well, whether forced or of her own volition, she had given him a name—William’s. She looked at George angrily. This was all his fault!

Wiping the tears from her cheeks with her fingers, she stood up.
‘Stop it, George!’ she said angrily. ‘Weeping isn’t going to sort out this mess!’

Still with his head hung over his knees, George dragged his handkerchief out of his trouser pocket, wiped his eyes, then gave his nose a loud blow. He sat for a second or two, staring at the carpet, then pushed himself to his feet. He looked a ruined man already.

‘Where are you going?’ She screwed her mouth up as he started to put on his jacket. She was so angry with him she wanted to kick him, punish him as he deserved.

‘I’m going to see William,’ he said heavily. ‘Then I’ll go and see Richard.’

‘And tell them what? That you’re the father?’

‘Yes.’ He met her eyes for a second, then looked away in shame. ‘I can’t let William take the blame.’

‘It’s too late! The damage is already done, George!’ She slapped him hard across his left cheek, then burst into tears. ‘Do you realize the mess you’ve caused?’ she sobbed. ‘Do you realize how many people this affects? And if you say anything, if you admit that you’re the father, it will only make matters worse, not better! Our father is married to Richard’s mother! If Richard discovers you are the father of Eliza’s child, how do you think that will affect family relations? As for Ann, she must never, ever find out about this! God knows, though, she deserves better than you!’

‘D’you think I want to admit I’m the father?’ George asked, raising his voice. ‘D’you think I want to destroy my marriage, lose Ann? But what else can I do? I can’t let William take the blame for something he didn’t do!’

‘No, you can’t!’ she agreed. ‘But you can’t admit that you’re to blame either!’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Charlotte!’ he returned loudly. ‘How else am I to clear William’s name?’

‘By getting Eliza to recant,’ she said, wiping her eyes again. ‘Get her to admit she was lying! Get her to tell Richard that she named William because she knew that it would more than likely result in my not marrying him. She won’t even need to lie, because that
is
why she named William. I’m sure of it. She was jealous of what I’d once meant to Richard and she didn’t want to see me happily married, when her own marriage was far from happy. She thinks Richard still loves me.’

‘He does,’ George said thickly, then turned away and walked over to the window. ‘Oh God, what am to do? What am I to do?’ he said, shaking his head.

‘You’ll do as I said, George,’ Charlotte said sharply. ‘You’ll do this for Ann and for the family.’

‘And what if Eliza won’t recant?’

‘Tell her that William has broken off our engagement because I didn’t believe him when he denied he was the father. She’ll recant then. She’ll have no reason not to.’

George glanced back over his shoulder, at her left hand and the ruby ring still in place on her finger. ‘But William hasn’t broken off your engagement,’ he said.

‘No, but he will tomorrow,’ she said bitterly. William was a proud man, and she had hurt him very badly tonight by doubting him. Some men might have forgiven her, but not William. He lived in a world which was completely black and white. Moreover, he wasn’t a man to give second chances—he had proved that with Rose.

She could tell from George’s face that he knew she was right. He knew William at least as well as she did, and he knew that there would be no marriage now.

‘Oh God, Charlotte, forgive me,’ he said earnestly. His face crumpled and he turned away again, struggling to control his emotions.

Charlotte closed her eyes, wanting to shut out the whole terrible mess. But messes like this couldn’t be shut out. They could be swept beneath the carpet, however, and that was where this mess would have to go.

T
he following morning, George went to see Eliza. Difficult as the visit would be, it was a considerably easier option than the alternative: namely, facing the music with just about everyone else. He left the house shortly after nine. Charlotte left at the same time, on an equally difficult mission.

Five minutes later, she was standing outside the premises of Fairfield & Blake. Above the door, either William or George had placed a festive wreath. She wasn’t expecting the atmosphere on the other side of the door to be very festive. Taking a deep breath, she went in. The door to William’s office was slightly ajar, and she could see him, standing at his desk, tidying up some papers. He looked up as she appeared in the doorway, then lowered his eyes again and continued reading the large document that he was holding. He had two black eyes, a cut on his right cheek and a very swollen nose.

‘William, can I speak to you please?’ Charlotte asked quietly.

‘Do we have anything to discuss?’ he enquired in thick, nasal tones.

She folded her hands awkwardly. ‘I know you aren’t the father of Eliza’s child, William. And I want to ask your forgiveness for doubting you.’

William continued to read the document, or rather made a pretence of it.

Eventually, she reached out and touched his hand. ‘William, please…’

He looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘Please what, Charlotte? By your own admission you doubted my integrity last night. Do you have any idea how that made me feel? You, who were shortly to be my wife, believed me capable of adultery!’

She let her hand slip back to her side and lowered her eyes, feeling thoroughly ashamed of herself. It was very easy to believe William now, now she knew the truth, but last night the truth hadn’t been quite so clear-cut.

‘I must ask you to return my ring, Charlotte.’ Setting the document down on his desk, William held out his hand.

All night she’d been preparing herself for this moment, knowing it would come. Now it had. She slipped off the ring and placed it on the palm of his hand. It remained there for a moment, then he tossed it on to the desk.

‘Might I ask why you’ve decided that I’m not the father?’ he enquired coolly. ‘Has Eliza admitted she was lying?’

She looked up, reluctantly meeting his eyes, and shook her head. ‘No. I just decided that you were telling the truth and that she is lying.’ And now
I
am lying, Charlotte thought. Lying because I have no alternative.

‘But last night you weren’t sure. Last night, you thought that I might be lying to you.’

She didn’t answer. There was really no point. Nothing she could say would make any difference.

For a long, unsettling two or three seconds he held her gaze, then said, ‘I took you for a woman of more calibre, more discernment, Charlotte, but you are obviously not the woman I thought you were. Still, better that I should find out now, rather than when you were my wife. I think our marriage would have been a disappointment to me.’

Tears starting to well in her eyes, she opened her mouth to speak but no words would come. Turning away, she waited for him to tell her to leave. But the ordeal wasn’t quite over yet.

‘Does George know about this?’ William asked curtly.

She looked back and nodded. ‘I told him last night.’

‘Is he intending to come to the office today?’

‘I don’t know,’ she replied. That would all depend.

‘Ask him to. I wish to speak to him.’

She nodded again then said hesitantly, ‘William…do you want me to leave Lyttelton?’ If she’d made up her mind about nothing else during a very long sleepless night, she had at least decided upon one thing. She would leave Lyttelton, if that was William’s wish. It was the least she could do, although the thought of losing Ann’s company and friendship made her want to weep.

After a short silence, he said offhandedly, ‘That is entirely up to you, Charlotte. If you think you can weather the gossip, then by all means stay. It will be more uncomfortable for you than for me, I imagine, since I am the one who has ended our engagement. Naturally, there will be speculation as to why I have done so. For my own part, I shall simply say that I decided you were not a suitable wife.

‘If you have nothing further to discuss, I’d be glad if you’d go now,’ he said calmly. He picked up the document again, and her ruby ring, which had been lying on it, dropped through the air like a bright little meteor and landed with a clink on the wooden floorboards at her feet. She stared at it for a moment, then left.

Her dismissal had been designed to hurt. And it did. Strangely, she felt almost grateful to William for it. She had hurt him deeply, far more than he’d been prepared to let her see, and she deserved to be hurt in return.

She went the long way back to George’s house. She felt far too
upset to face George again just yet. She was too disgusted with him for words. She only hoped he had persuaded Eliza. That would at least clear William’s good name, and it was important that it was cleared—fully cleared. It would mean that Richard would have to apologize to him, which wouldn’t be easy, but William deserved no less.

As she expected, George was already home when she arrived back. She walked into the parlour to find him hunched over his desk with his head in his hands.

‘Did you see Eliza?’ she asked without preamble.

He nodded and gave a muffled grunt which she took to be a ‘Yes.’

‘And?’

‘She wouldn’t do it.’

Charlotte closed her eyes.

‘She wouldn’t do it,’ he repeated in a leaden voice as he raised his head. ‘She’s too afraid of what Richard might do. She said Richard had made her give him a name, threatened to send her back to her parents in disgrace if she didn’t. That’s why she named William. She didn’t name him out of jealousy; she was trying to protect Ann and me. She told me so. She won’t recant, because she’s afraid that Richard will carry out his threat if she does. And, God knows, he probably will.’

Dropping her purse and hat on the sideboard, Charlotte collapsed on the sofa. Whether Richard would or wouldn’t disgrace Eliza was immaterial. It made no difference either way, because Eliza was apparently determined to stick to her lie.

The chair gave a loud creak as George pushed himself to his feet. ‘I couldn’t press her, Charlotte.’ Turning towards her, he threw her an appealing, desperate look. ‘She was terribly distressed. Oh God…’ He shook his head, remorse and pain twisting every muscle of his
face. ‘What have I done? God help me, what have I done?’

Charlotte turned away. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She had enough pain of her own, and to see George like this was more than she could cope with.

It was some minutes before either of them spoke. George slumped back in his chair and put his head in his hands again while she continued to stare sightlessly at the wall, her thoughts jumping all over the place.

George was the first to speak. ‘How did you fare with William?’ He had evidently just remembered that she, too, had been on an unpleasant mission that morning.

In answer she held up her left hand.

‘Charlotte, I’m truly sorry,’ he said in a choked voice.

She lowered her hand and said nothing. What was there to say?

‘I don’t think I can live with this. I shall have to tell William and Richard the truth. I can’t live with this terrible guilt all my life.’ George pushed himself to his feet again. He had been like this last night: up and down, up and down, and in between whiles wearing out the carpet.

‘Every mistake has its price, George,’ Charlotte returned unsympathetically. ‘Confession might be good for the soul, but I can tell you one thing: it won’t do Ann and the rest of the family a lot of good. So you’ll just have to learn to live with your guilt!’ She paused then said curtly, ‘William wants to see you.’

George started like a pricked flea. ‘What about?’

‘I don’t know. He didn’t say.’

‘I can’t see him. I can’t face him, not today,’ he said, shaking his head.

‘Well, that’s up to you,’ she said offhandedly. Leaving George to stew in his guilt, she went into the kitchen and spent the rest of the morning there.

Shortly after noon, they had a visitor. Someone was knocking on the front door. She let George answer it. She couldn’t think of a single person whom she wanted to speak to. Whoever the visitor was, she didn’t recognize his voice, and his conversation with George, whatever it was about, was a brief one. Shortly after closing the door, George appeared in the kitchen, slitting open an envelope with his finger.

‘It’s from Richard,’ he said, in answer to her questioning look. ‘It’s addressed to me. The other one is addressed to Father and Letitia,’ he added, indicating the second envelope in his hand.

She waited until he’d read it, then said, ‘Well, what does it say?’

‘Read it for yourself,’ he said, handing it to her.

It was brief and to the point.

George

You will have heard from Charlotte of the events of last night, I am sure. For obvious reasons, my wife and I will not be spending Christmas at the farm.

Be good enough to deliver the other letter to my mother and John. I have told them that Eliza is pregnant and not well, and given my apologies for our remaining in Lyttelton. I have said nothing regarding the parentage of my wife’s child, and I would request that you do likewise. The truth would cause too much distress. I have also said that Eliza is very homesick and that I intend to take her back to England in the New Year. I must ask you to give a similar account of matters in any conversations that you may have. I trust Charlotte will do likewise.

I write this in confidence and know that you will treat it as such.

Yours in gratitude

Richard

‘
Yours in gratitude—
Richard has little to be grateful to you for, George!’ Charlotte gave him a scathing look as she handed the letter back to him, then turned away.

Another strained silence settled. Eventually, George said in a subdued voice, ‘Richard is standing by Eliza, not divorcing her, not disgracing her.’

‘Well, what else can he do?’ she returned curtly. Richard had no choice but to cover up the truth. Neither did George. And neither did she. As Richard said, the truth would cause too much distress. Too much by far.