A Life of Secrets

by Margaret Kaine

  And indeed, her spirits plummeted when she saw that the stable yard was empty, apart from a couple of grooms attending to the horses.

  One turned as she approached. It was the same one who had previously remonstrated with Robbie.

  He took his cap off. ‘Good afternoon, my lady.’

  She smiled. ‘I remember you, but I didn’t catch your name.’

  ‘It’s Les.’ He nodded to the other groom. ‘And over there’s Jim.’

  ‘I was wondering, Les, about the injured collie we rescued a few months ago. Have you any further news of its welfare?’

  He scratched his head. ‘Not really, you’d have to ask Harry that. He’ll be in tomorrow.’

  ‘I see.’ Deborah paused. It was obvious the boy wasn’t around. ‘We’ll be staying for a few days, so I’ll probably see him then. Thank you.’ She called the retriever to her and, keenly disappointed, began to make her way back to the house.

  Theo looked up as she went into the drawing room, and she gave a slight shake of her head. ‘I think I’ll go up and have a rest, darling. I’ll see you at dinner, Father-in-law.’

  ‘I shall look forward to it.’ His smile was warm, and she wondered what his feelings would be if he knew of her past. Theo might be understanding, but she doubted that his father would be quite so forgiving. His generation were even more moralistic than her own.

  Friday morning dawned with the promise of good weather, and both Theo and Deborah were looking forward to a brisk ride in the country air. Instead of sending a message for mounts to be saddled, they strolled along to the stables themselves.

  ‘Morning, Harry,’ Theo called as they reached the yard. ‘Lovely day for a ride.’

  The stableman came over, smiling. ‘Good to see you back so soon, sir. And good morning to you, my lady.’

  ‘Good morning, Harry.’ Deborah glanced over the well-swept yard. ‘I was hoping to see you. We were wondering whether you had any further news about the injured collie?’

  He grinned. ‘Fallen on his feet, he has. A local farmer took him. He’ll be well looked after there, I can promise you.’

  ‘Good. Although it was a pity that young boy was disappointed.’

  ‘You mean Robbie? Aye, he’s good with the horses too. He’ll be here this afternoon after school.’

  ‘He comes every day?’

  ‘Mostly, apart from weekends. He gives a hand to Mrs Bagshaw with her bundles.’

  After Harry had gone to saddle their mounts, Theo said, ‘Bundles? I thought we had a wash house here?’

  ‘I’m sure you have,’ Deborah said, ‘but don’t you remember she said Robbie couldn’t have a dog because of the washing? She’ll probably launder the heavy stuff here, sheets and towels, but take away delicate items for hand-washing.’ She laughed at Theo’s amused expression. ‘As a child, I spent lots of time in the kitchen at Anscombe Hall. It’s a wonder I didn’t get fat, all the treats Cook used to give me.’ Then her expression changed. ‘At least we’ll be able to see the boy.’

  ‘Ah, thank you, Harry,’ Theo said, as the horses were led over. ‘They’re both looking in splendid form.’

  And it was indeed the perfect weather for riding. Warm with a slight breeze, blue skies above and surrounded by glorious autumn foliage. They put the horses to a gallop, eventually slowing down to a trot, then a walk, and eventually dismounted.

  ‘What time do you think he’ll be out of school?’ Deborah asked. She’d been unable to forget even for a minute what lay ahead. No matter how often she tried to convince herself that she was mad to imagine such a thing, her whole being was suffused with nerves. They were standing before a massive oak tree to admire the view over sunlit fields. She turned to Theo in anxiety. ‘I don’t want to miss him.’

  He bent to kiss her lightly on the lips. ‘The bell will likely go at four and it’s only a short walk. He’ll probably run, anyway. Stop worrying, sweetheart. We can judge the right time to go, and I’ll ask Harry’s advice about horses. He can be a bit long-winded so that will help.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll probably find that I’ve made a fool of myself. As you say, just because I saw a marked resemblance …’

  He turned and collecting the reins, cupped his hands for Deborah to mount. ‘A steady ride back, I think. And then a delicious lunch.’

  For Deborah, the hours and minutes after luncheon seemed an eternity. Theo and his father were quietly discussing local issues at one end of the drawing room, while she sat in a deeply cushioned sofa flicking through Country Life. Nerves were increasingly making her restless, and once she excused herself, only to go along to the morning room where she could pace restlessly unseen. When she returned, it was to find Theo alone. ‘My father’s gone up for a rest,’ he explained.

  ‘Did you remember to cancel tea?’

  ‘I said we’d ring for some later.’ Just then came the sound of the grandfather clock in the hall striking four. ‘We’ll just give him time to get here. And sweetheart, try and stay calm and level-headed.’

  ‘You think I’m making too much of it, don’t you?’

  ‘Deborah, whatever you decide, I’ll be by your side. Never forget that.’

  Twenty-five minutes later, they left the house and began to walk along the path that led to the stables. ‘So, the plan is,’ Theo murmured, ‘exactly as I suggested before. I’ll engage Harry in conversation, which will give you the chance to talk to the boy.’

  She nodded. And then they were in the yard, where immediately she could see a small figure in one of the stalls, reaching up to stroke the long nose of the chestnut she had ridden that morning.

  ‘He’s there’, she whispered.

  Theo swiftly glanced at him before Harry approached them.

  ‘Good afternoon, sir.’

  ‘Ah, the very man. I could do with your advice, Harry. We have a stable at our new house in London, and I’m thinking of buying a horse.’

  As Harry launched into a barrage of questions and descriptions of horseflesh, Deborah, after listening politely for a few minutes, began to move away. She strolled casually along the row of stalls, until she reached the entrance to the right one.

  Her breath stilled for a moment. She said quietly, ‘Good afternoon. Robbie, isn’t it?’

  The boy turned and looked up.

  Deborah’s heart leapt into her throat. The resemblance was stark, just as she remembered. The same black curly hair, the slight cleft in his chin, brown eyes so like … She needed to see him smile. ‘I have some milk chocolate in my pocket, would you like some? You can eat it now, if you like.’

  His small face lit up and he stretched out his hand. ‘Thank you, my lady.’

  So he remembered her! She watched him remove the silver foil from the small bar of chocolate and eagerly devour it. ‘Is it good?’

  He gave a cheeky grin. ‘Smashing.’

  Deborah’s heart missed a beat before beginning to race, her eyes hungrily searching every feature, every aspect of his face. And the small seed of suspicion, even hope, that had been buried in her heart, that she had struggled so hard to submerge, burst into leaf. But it couldn’t be, it was impossible. Questions flooded into her mind, and despite Theo’s warning not to reveal her interest, she couldn’t help herself.

  ‘How old are you, Robbie?’

  He drew himself up. ‘Seven.’

  She caught her breath. No, she mustn’t ask his birthday! But perhaps a more general question?

  She hesitated. ‘And do you have another name besides Robbie?’

  ‘Waters, my lady.’

  Deborah felt the blood drain from her face.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Deborah was stunned. His surname was Waters? It meant that that Myrtle Waters, her cold-faced maid, had stolen her baby … Stolen him! Fury rose in Deborah so elemental that she wanted to scream, to lash out. Because she knew without doubt that she was standing before her own child, her living child. She made an impulsive move towards him, longing to gather him in her ar
ms, to tell him that she was his mother, and she would always love and protect him. But with the discipline instilled into her from childhood, Deborah forced herself to step back. In a strangled voice she said, ‘I’m glad you enjoy being with the horses, Robbie.’

  ‘I like all animals, my lady.’

  Deborah glanced desperately along the stable yard, wanting, needing Theo. To be able to spill out all her chaotic thoughts and be comforted. But he was still patiently listening to Harry. She was in such upheaval, she couldn’t possibly act normally, go back and join them. She looked at Robbie again, reluctant to leave him even for a minute. Feeling as if her heart was split in two, she managed to smile at him and turned away.

  Reaching the privacy of her bedroom just in time before the hot tears rained down her face, Deborah flung herself on the blue silk counterpane and wept. She wept for herself, for all the years of her child’s life she had lost. She wept for Robbie, deprived of her love. All those years ago, when she was pregnant, it had broken her heart to agree to him being adopted – assured that he would be with a family close by, where she could at least see him grow up. Promised that he would be educated in keeping with his class. She had done it as much for his sake as for her own. Philippe would never have wanted his child to be thought a bastard and treated as such. And now, the sickening truth was that she didn’t even know whether he’d been properly cared for. Her whole being was suffused with an anger she would never have thought herself capable of. Then there was the treachery. Was it possible that her own brother had colluded in the cruel deception? She couldn’t believe even Gerard capable of such wickedness.

  ‘Darling, are you absolutely sure?’ Theo, who had at last managed to extricate himself from Harry’s well-meant words, had joined her in the bedroom.

  Deborah nodded and got up from the bed. Her voice quavering, she told him of Robbie’s devastating answers to her questions. ‘If only I had a photograph of Philippe to show you. Does a mother know instinctively her own child? I only know I felt some sort of recognition the very first time I saw him.’ She paused, ‘I put it down to the amazing resemblance, I didn’t dare to think or even hope it could be anything else … but now I know the truth.’ She gazed up at him. ‘Theo, the boy is mine, Robbie is my son.’ She looked at him in both despair and elation.

  Theo drew her over to the window seat and sat by her side. His hands holding hers, he said quietly, ‘So, tell me, exactly how you were told that your baby had died.’

  Deborah’s mind went back to that terrible day. She began, ‘I was still in my lying-in period after the birth. Waters came in, crying, saying that the baby had died while with the wet nurse. That he’d caught an infection.’ She clung to Theo’s hands. ‘She stole him, stole my baby! She stood and watched my shock, my grief, as all I could think of was that little warm body I’d held in my arms. How could any woman do such a terrible thing?’

  ‘And what of Gerard? Did he come to Wales, to comfort you?’

  She shook her head. ‘He just wrote expressing his condolences, and saying that under no circumstances was I to attend the funeral. That the secrecy of the past months must be maintained.’

  ‘So who arranged the funeral?’ Theo was frowning.

  ‘Waters, in accordance with his instructions, and Gerard sent the money for it. At least that’s what she said.’ She looked at him in distress. ‘I cannot believe now that I was so compliant.’

  ‘You were nineteen, my love, and recovering from the ordeal of childbirth. You must never blame yourself.’ Theo fell silent, and Deborah sat twisting her engagement and wedding rings. Then he said, ‘So you never actually saw the grave?’

  ‘Yes, of course I did, I insisted on it.’ Her voice was rising in hysteria.

  Theo turned to gently kiss her. ‘It’s alright, sweetheart. Take your time.’

  She looked at him despairingly. ‘I’m trying to remember. I know that Waters came with me and that dusk was falling.’ Deborah looked at him, her eyes darkening at the memory. ‘She took me to a small unmarked grave, saying arrangements had been made for a headstone once the ground had settled. I took a bunch of anemones from the cottage garden and replaced the ones already there, on top of the mound.’

  Theo’s expression was grim. ‘Was that when you returned to London?’

  She nodded. ‘Waters was to follow once she’d attended to everything at the cottage. But she never did. Instead she wrote to say that she’d been offered a position with my Aunt Blanche and preferred to stay in Wales. I thought Gerard must have arranged it. Knowing what she did, it was safer than her being at Grosvenor Square, I was just glad to be rid of her …’

  ‘And you never went back to visit the grave?’

  Dismally she said, ‘Gerard said it would draw attention to me.’

  Theo drew a deep breath. ‘Deborah, we need to think very carefully about all this. I suggest that I go down to the drawing room and order tea. We’ll be able to sit more comfortably there.’

  ‘I’ll come and join you.’ After he had left the bedroom, she remained sitting for a moment, then went to splash her blotched face with cold water before dabbing it with powder. Deborah stared in the mirror, scarcely able to believe that she was the mother of a living seven-year-old boy.

  In the drawing room, Theo was trying to piece together the threads of what Deborah had just told him. Part of him wanted to hurry to the stables, to see the boy for himself, but he hesitated, not wanting to draw attention. In any case, Robbie may have already left.

  It was unworthy of him, he knew, but Theo couldn’t help some resentment that this had arisen now, to disturb the idyllic rhythm of their early married life. Was it selfish to want his new wife to himself? He almost felt that he had been superseded in Deborah’s heart by this small boy.

  But his overwhelming feeling was one of fury that she had been treated so callously. And for heaven’s sake, child abduction carried a severe penalty. Had this woman Waters realised that? As for the supposed funeral, he doubted there had ever been one. The false grave Deborah had been shown? A bribe to a gravedigger to dig a small mound of earth in a secluded corner of the graveyard.

  And this woman, Waters. How had she been able to afford to raise a child alone, and have the veneer of respectability to do so? Someone must have financed her, and it could only have been Gerard. But why on earth had he got himself involved in a criminal activity?

  Theo smote his fist into his hand. Blackmail! That must be the reason. Waters had wanted a baby and seen her opportunity. What if, once the baby was safely delivered, she’d threatened to reveal everything?

  He turned as Deborah came into the room, noting that she was looking better, although there was no doubting the strain in her face. It was fortunate that tea, with tiny sandwiches and scones, had already arrived, so there was no chance of their being disturbed or a servant noticing that she had been crying. She would have hated that.

  ‘Come and eat something, sweetheart. You’ll feel better for it.’

  Deborah forced herself to eat a sandwich and did indeed feel revived by the comfort of a hot drink. Then she looked across at Theo. ‘What are we going to do?’

  Her plaintive, bewildered question went straight to his heart. ‘First and foremost, darling, we are going to find out the truth, what happened, and how it happened.’ He put down his empty cup. ‘And we both know that we can’t do that ourselves. You can hardly go around asking self-incriminating questions. A similar restriction applies to me. But tell me, is your Aunt Blanche still alive?’

  She shook her head. ‘She suffered another stroke and died within six months of Waters going there.’

  ‘So we have no way of knowing whether she actually went.’

  Deborah frowned. ‘There could be. I believe a distant cousin inherited, so it’s more than likely he’d retain the staff.’

  ‘Perhaps you could make a general enquiry about Waters’ welfare?’

  ‘Yes, I will. It’s a start, anyway.’

  Theo said, �
��I think I’ll go along to the study and make some notes while I have all the facts in my head.’ He turned to look back before opening the door. ‘And tomorrow afternoon we will go to the stables together. Do you realise that I’ve never actually seen your Robbie?’

  Deborah leant back in the armchair, closing her eyes and hugging the last two words to her. He was hers. Whatever difficulties lay ahead, nothing could take away the wonder of knowing her child was alive.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  It was raining the following morning, so instead of going for a ride, Theo took Deborah to see the nearby village with its broad high street and honey-coloured cottages. As they passed one or two thatched ones, she remarked how attractive it was.

  ‘Wiltshire has a wealth of history too. We’ll come and spend more time here next summer, and I’ll take you to see places of interest.’

  ‘That would be lovely.’ But Deborah’s response was an absent one. She just wanted the hours to pass quickly; for the late afternoon to come so that she could see Robbie again. And she was longing for Theo to see him. Would he detect any resemblance to herself? If not facial, then perhaps in a gesture or a fleeting expression? Also, her mind was in a constant whirl trying to forecast what was going to happen in the future. Deborah only knew that she had no intention of losing her son a second time.

  ‘I wonder in which cottage the laundress lives?’ She was scanning each doorway as if her son would miraculously appear. ‘And where Robbie was beforehand? Do you think Waters has died?’

  ‘Darling, I’ve told you, the right questions will be asked, but not by either of us. And no need now for you to make any enquiries about her. As soon as we return to London, I intend to hire a private investigator.’

  She turned to him. ‘I worry that I’m not being fair to you, thinking about this all the time.’