* * *
At last Allie left. She had been hovering around Beth since the incident on the street. Beth could hear her distracted movements, punctuated by sighs and suggestions of additional tea, an extra blanket, hot brick or smelling salts.
In desperation, Beth had sent her for a wrap if only to gain a few moments of solitude.
That moment on the street had changed everything.
It had been a blast of reality. It had successfully decimated that small part of her intent on constructing fairy tales, castles in the sky and happy endings.
The marriage must end. Her own vulnerability had been cruelly hammered home. Good Lord, she could have been struck and become an invalid like her mother. Then Ren would have been saddled with her care, as though his life had not been difficult enough.
No, she must face the fact that despite a lifetime of trying, she was less able to look after herself, less able to avoid danger. And she refused to be a burden. Moreover, she would not risk bearing a child she could not look after. Or one who might also be blind, so that Ren would be burdened with the care of both of them.
‘I do not want your father here,’ her mother had once said shortly after her fall. ‘I do not want your father tied to me, nursing me. If you love someone, you want what is best for them. You do not want to see their life crippled.’
But could they even get an annulment after last night? Would he divorce her? Could he divorce her?
She heard Allie return. Beth replaced her cup on the table and, as she did so, accidentally struck the table, spilling several droplets of lukewarm tea on to her hand. Surprisingly, she felt the smart of tears. She blinked. Couldn’t she even do this simple task without error?
‘My lady.’ She heard Allie’s hurried footsteps and the rustle of cloth as she dropped the wrap. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’
‘No, it isn’t even hot. Apparently, I am unable to put down my cup without mishap.’
‘It is just that you are in a strange place, my lady.’
‘No, it is just that I am blind. An individual who is sighted can usually manage such a simple task.’
‘Good gracious, not if you saw my brothers at meal time. Anyhow, that spill’s easy enough to fix. Don’t you be distressing yourself.’ Allie came with the flannel. She pressed it against Beth’s hand. Its cool dampness felt soothing against her skin. Somehow, its very comfort made the tears threaten more.
‘I just—sometimes, I just wish...’
‘What, my lady?’
Beth felt the tears spill down her cheeks. ‘That I wasn’t blind.’
Angrily, she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
‘My lady, you never did let that stop you and I don’t see as how you should be starting at this late date. Lud, I remember when you insisted on riding that horse and fishing. You went to the river and got the biggest fish of them all. Gracious, there’s some young ladies who wouldn’t go anywhere near a fish, sighted or otherwise.’
‘Yes, and Ren or Jamie or Edmund had to lead me there and back or I wouldn’t have been able to find the stream, never mind fish from it.’
‘They never minded.’
‘I know!’ Her voice rose. ‘But I did. I do. I wish—’
She let the phrase remain unfinished. She wished she could be Ren’s wife. She wished she could risk the snide comments and mistresses and convince him that they could have a life together. She wished she was strong and that she could be his equal. She wished she could tell him that she loved him, had always loved him, would always love him. But if you love someone you want what is best for them.
‘Everybody, sighted or not, needs help every now and again. Did...um—’ Allie hesitated before lunging forward in a rushed gabble of words. ‘Did his lordship upset you or hurt you in some way last night? Because if he did, he’ll have me to answer to and that you may tie to.’
Beth allowed herself a slight smile at the thought of her feisty little maid accosting Ren.
‘No,’ she said. ‘You need not threaten him. He did not upset me.’
‘Then ’tis the excitement of the city, no doubt. We are country folk and not used to its bustle and all this to-ing and fro-ing and ballet dancing and the like.’
‘Yes,’ Beth said. ‘Yes, that is it. We will leave soon.’
‘You want to leave?’ Allie asked, her voice squeaking in surprise as though the concept was entirely new to her.
‘Allie, you know that was always the plan,’ Beth said softly.
‘Yes, but I thought... When?’
‘Soon. Today.’
‘But you will wait for his lordship to return? You will talk to him?’
‘I—’ Part of her wanted to escape from the complexity of her feelings while a part wanted to remain and throw herself in Ren’s arms as though he might magic a solution.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But you should start to pack anyway. All holidays must end.’
Chapter Fourteen
Beth found time hanging heavily. She hated being in a strange environment. She hated having to tap out her movements and bang clumsily into furniture. She hated standing in a corridor and not knowing which way to turn or hearing a clock tick, but being uncertain as to where it came from or how it might guide her.
It all served to prove that her independence rested largely on a string of numbers, of steps and dimensions for Allington and Graham Hill. Wrenched from those environs, she was stumbling and uncertain.
And the memory of those chaotic moments still circled in her mind, that panicked, confused feeling of danger, mixed with the paralysis of not knowing how to react or which way to jump.
That paralysis—the knowledge of danger, but the absence of any insight into how to avoid that danger—that was the worst.
She shivered, pulling her wrap more closely about her. Last night she had thrown caution aside, but this morning she wanted to pull it about her like a blanket and hide, as a child might in a winter storm.
I should have looked after you better.
Those had been Ren’s words. They had also been her father’s words after her mother’s accident. Of course, it had not been her father’s fault. His horse had cleared the jump. Her mother’s had not. But he had felt burdened by guilt.
Beth did not want to be the burden her mother had been. Her mother had always thought that worry had led to her husband’s gambling. Beth wanted a union where she was a strength and helpmate. And, as that was not possible, she would remain alone.
The doorbell sounded. Beth paid it little heed. Ren would not ring his own bell and she knew no one in London—except Mirabelle’s aunt. She hoped it wasn’t her. As she recalled, Lady Mortley had a vast interest in Egyptian relics which, while fascinating, became somewhat tiring as the sole topic of conversation.
‘My lady?’ Robbins said, entering the library.
‘Yes?’ Bother, it must be Lady Mortley after all.
‘It is the Dowager Lady Graham,’ he said.
‘Her ladyship?’ That would likely be worse than Egyptian relics. ‘Did she want to see his lordship? Did you tell her that he is not about?’
‘She asked for you, my lady, most specifically.’
‘She did?’ Beth sighed. ‘I suppose you must show her in.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
Her mother-in-law’s arrival was heralded with the usual swish of skirts, and that unmistakable floral perfume which Beth always felt was more a cloying taste than a scent.
‘My lady, it is kind of you to visit,’ she said.
‘Yes, dear. Roberts, do bring up tea,’ her ladyship directed.
‘Robbins,’ Beth corrected, irritation flickered. If her mother-in-law was going to order about the servants she could at least remember their names. ‘I hope you enjoyed the ballet?’
‘Yes, yes, delightful, although some d
ialogue would make it so much more comprehensible. But that is beside the point. I saw Ren.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Beth said. ‘I was there.’
‘No, I mean, I saw him today. In town.’
‘I believe he is doing errands,’ Beth said, cautiously.
‘He has some ludicrous, revolutionary concept of giving the land to the tenants.’
Beth felt her lips curve into a happy smile. If Ren had told his mother, he must have decided to do it.
‘And you may smile, but I do not think it is anything to rejoice about. He will be ostracised, you know,’ her mother-in-law said.
‘He said he already was.’
‘Nonsense. Perhaps by a few fussy mamas and dowagers because he drinks and gambles and has any number of mistresses.’
For some reason, the words hurt. Of course Beth knew he had mistresses—but any number sounded so...so numerous.
‘You didn’t know?’ her mother-in-law was asking, honing in on the weakness.
‘I knew,’ Beth said, schooling her features.
‘I am not saying that he has them all at the same time. It is Celeste Lapointe right now. Former opera singer, I believe. Limited talent. You might have seen her last night?’
‘I didn’t,’ Beth said. ‘One benefit of being blind is that one does not see one’s husband’s mistresses.’
It hurt, all the same, to have a name to roll around her thoughts.
‘Anyway, the ton forgives that sort of behaviour from gentlemen. Particularly if the gentleman is rich and with an estate and title, but giving away of land to tenants—that is quite another thing entirely.’
‘It is acceptable to lose an estate at cards but not to give it to people who have worked on the land for generations?’
She heard her mother-in-law make a slight ‘tsk,’ moving as if shifting or straightening in her chair.
‘Darling, you are an idealist. The world is not meant for idealists. Besides, Ren should not be giving it to anyone, he should be keeping it. He should be Lord Graham with all its inherent honour and responsibility and I intend to convince him of it.’
‘I believe that was my point when I came to see you earlier and you said there was little you could do,’ Beth said.
‘That was prior to this ludicrous suggestion that he give the land to a bunch of peasants.’
‘Farmers. You would prefer he give it to the Duke?’
Her ladyship leaned forward, her perfume becoming even stronger with her movement. ‘Yes. It would be better than an idea which is tantamount to revolution. Besides, I have come up with another suggestion which I think will serve.’ She paused as though to build suspense.
‘Yes?’ Beth asked.
‘Darling, you know I am uncommonly fond of you and I do not say this to hurt you in any way.’
Beth swallowed. She felt a flicker of something; pain or fear, perhaps. She rubbed her palms against the fabric of her skirt. ‘I imagine that statement is a precursor to something quite hurtful.’
‘We all know that Ren married you out of—’ Lady Graham paused. Beth could almost hear the word ‘pity’ echoing about the room. ‘Kindness.’
Beth made no response and after a moment Lady Graham continued. ‘But the need has passed. I hear that your father’s unfortunate debts are paid and Allington is prosperous, at least sufficient for your needs. And, darling, really you are not suited to be his wife. I say this not to hurt you, only for your own good. A man like Ren needs someone to keep him entertained so that he does not stray, or at least not so much.’
‘I am cognisant of that. I plan to return to the country today or tomorrow.’
Lady Graham took Beth’s hand within her own. Her mother-in-law’s hand was soft and smooth, but distasteful somehow, and Beth had to fight the desire to pull her fingers free. ‘You see, my dear, the Duke has a relative. A cousin. Granted, she is not quite as close a relation to my late husband as the Duke, but there is kinship. Therefore, even if Rendell continues with this...his concerns about his own parentage, this marriage would allow him to feel that the estate was continuing within the Graham family and that his children have a right to the estate. Annabelle is also well versed in social etiquette and will be an asset to him. It is an admirable solution.’
‘Except that I am married to him,’ Beth said, pulling her hand free. ‘And England does not yet endorse polygamy.’
‘Darling, I was thinking of a nice, quiet annulment.’
Heat washed into Beth’s face. With an effort, she stiffened her spine, forcing herself to be coherent and practical.
‘Lady Graham, that was my wish at one time. Indeed, I have spoken to Ren about it, but I do not believe we would qualify...any more... I mean. I will suggest a divorce, although I fear that would bring its own scandal.’
Despite the hurt, Beth felt wry amusement at her own words. Qualify? Good gracious, she sounded as though she were seeking to enter a horse race or a baking contest at the village fête.
‘Darling, I suspected as much, but do not worry. There is another way to get your annulment. You were married when you had not yet reached the age of majority.’
Beth nodded. ‘But that shouldn’t matter. Young girls all over England are married while still under age.’
‘With their father’s consent,’ her ladyship said, smoothly.
‘He was dead. Jamie consented.’
‘And Jamie was not yet twenty-one. No one was able to give consent which is grounds for an annulment.’
For a moment, Beth could not speak. It was a practical solution. Really, it was a perfect answer, particularly when one threw in Annabelle, the newly discovered relative.
‘You must have been quite elated when you discovered that technicality,’ Beth said in clipped hard tones which sounded foreign to her. ‘As I recall, you have never liked me.’
There was a relief in saying the words.
‘Darling, it is not that I do not like you. Your character is admirable. But you lack practicality and have some shockingly revolutionary ideas. As well you are limited by your disability. Ren would have to escort you everywhere or you would be blundering into things. And really, the ton does not admire clumsiness. You are not the sort of woman that Ren needs. Men like Ren have a very low threshold for boredom. There may be a novelty about you right now, but that will wear off with remarkable rapidity. And being nursemaid to one woman would only make him seek others to an even greater extent.’
There was almost a relief to hear the words, a confirmation of what she knew already.
‘I know,’ Beth said. The anger lessened, filled now with a heavy, hopeless leaden feeling. ‘You are certain about the annulment.’
‘Yes. I visited my own solicitor after seeing Ren.’
‘You are thorough,’ Beth said.
She heard her mother-in-law’s movements. They almost sounded agitated and she reached her hands to the elder woman’s face to better read her expression. She startled slightly, but acquiesced to Beth’s touch.
‘You are worried?’ she said, fingering the slight furrows in the older woman’s face.
‘I—’ Beth heard her mother-in-law swallow and heard her quickened inhalation. ‘It might surprise you, but I love my son. I want him to be successful. I don’t want him ostracised. Ever since that day when his father—Lord Graham—sent him away, he has been searching for where he belongs. This could be his chance. I don’t want him to throw it away. I...’
Her mother-in-law did not finish the sentence, allowing her words to trail into silence, and Beth had the sense that there was something more, something left unsaid.
Beth dropped her hands and stood. ‘I will talk to Ren.’
‘Darling, one more thing—I really think it would be better if you were not to cohabit.’
‘I will return to Allington,’ Beth said dully.
&nbs
p; ‘It will be too late to get to Allington today.’
Beth stiffened. ‘But where else would I go?’
‘Somewhere you can reach today so you don’t need to spend another night here. Somewhere he cannot instantly find you. Men can be persuasive. I would suggest that you remove yourself. I know a place. It is not too far out of London and is on the way to Allington so will not necessitate additional travel which, as I recall, you do not like. It is quiet and small. You could arrange to go immediately.’
‘I must talk to Ren.’
‘You could,’ her ladyship said, doubt threading through her voice.
‘You don’t think I should?’
‘I do not wish to be indelicate.’
‘This entire conversation has hardly been delicate,’ Beth said wryly. ‘No reason to censor yourself now.’
‘Very well. As I said, men can be persuasive. And should you become with child, well, that—that would complicate the matter. As it is, I suppose we will have to wait a few weeks to be certain, but we do not wish to increase the likelihood.’
‘I—I see,’ Beth whispered.
Her ladyship’s point was valid. Were she to sleep with him again... And she could not risk having children. She could not risk tying him to her or bearing children equally as disadvantaged as herself. She touched her sightless eyes.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I will leave today. I will go to this place you have suggested. But I will talk to Ren first.’
‘Darling, I really think it would be better—’
‘No,’ Beth said. ‘On this my mind is decided. But be assured I recognise the need for an annulment, or a divorce if annulment is not possible, and I am not easily persuaded.’
There was a pause, then Beth heard movement as her mother-in-law rose. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I will give your servants the address of the place I have in mind and make the arrangements. I can find my way out.’
Beth listened to her mother-in-law’s retreating footsteps, the slight creak of hinges as she opened the door and then the muted voices within the hallway. Likely she was talking to Robbins or the groom. Finally, the outer door opened and closed.
Her Convenient Husband's Return Page 15