Forced Offer

by Gloria Gay

  "What else did Flora do? Did she go with you to the cellar?"

  "Yes. I was afraid to go there by myself, when I woke up and realized Belinda had stayed in that cold cellar all night.

  "We found her in a heap on the floor, unconscious, and her face burning in fever. Flora said she would take care of her and sent me to my room.

  "She ordered the maid to give me a draught and I went to sleep right away. But in the morning I ran to Belinda's room and found her as still as death—and so cold!"

  "Why was she cold?"

  "She had only a thin coverlet on the bed and the fire had not been lit the night before."

  "That's outrageous," Lord Wilbur said, gritting his teeth. "Isn't her abigail supposed to take care of these things?"

  "Bessie was away for two days. Belinda had let her go to visit her moth-mother. That's when I came to get you."

  "Yes," said Lord Wilbur, "but the fire was lit when I went in there. Who lit it?"

  "I tried to light it," Irene said, "but I was trembling and sobbing and couldn't get it to start, even though it was prepared. So I rang for a footman to do it."

  "Irene," asked Lord Wilbur in a deliberate voice, "why did you hate Belinda so much? Was it because of the gossip in relation to the way this marriage had come about? Or was there another reason? Who did you first hear it from?"

  "Flora—from Flora. She told me Belinda was a horrible girl who had developed a plan to trick Richard into marriage. She convinced me Belinda had tricked her mother into going along with her plan because she was a wicked and willful girl. She said Belinda was an ape-leader who wanted to marry someone with a title and money so that she could live a life of luxury, for her family had lost their social status long ago and they wanted to regain it through her marriage.

  I was over my cold and wanted to go to the wedding but Flora told me Belinda had said she didn't want me there."

  "I see. And how many times did Flora talk to you about Belinda before she left for London to help with the marriage preparations?"

  "Many times."

  "So by the time you met Belinda your mind had already been poisoned against her."

  "I don't hate her, Willie, I truly don't," Irene said through sobs. "I thought I did, but I don't."

  "What went on in the house when Richard was in London, Irene? How did Flora act toward Belinda?"

  "She ignored her. And her friends followed her lead, especially Lady Lawrence. But I did too, Willie, and I am so sorry.

  "I was angry when Flora told me how Belinda had asked Richard to send me away because of my outburst at dinner the first night, when I told her some very ugly things."

  "Come, my dear. We must go back to Winterhill," said Lord Wilbur rising and taking Irene's arm. "I have to talk to Richard."

  "You will explain to him?" Irene asked him, her eyes imploring.

  "I will. And I assure you, he will understand."

  "He will not—not hate me for it?"

  "No. You have my word."

  "Oh, Willie, thank you." Irene started sobbing again and Lord Wilbur calmed her down as they headed for the stables.

  Chapter 16

  Leaving Dr. Casper and the nurse with Belinda, Lord Berrington was crossing the hall on the way to the library when he glanced up and saw Lord Wilbur and Irene. Irene ran up to him.

  "Oh, Richard. How is she?"

  "She is—she's worse," he said grimly. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was disheveled.

  "Willie," he said, glancing up at Lord Wilbur. "Join me for a brandy?"

  "Yes. As a matter of fact I came here to talk to you, Rick—Irene, dear," he said to the silent girl, "wait for us. We'll be with you shortly."

  Irene went to Belinda's room and Lord Berrington led the way to the library. He closed the door behind them.

  After serving two glasses of brandy, Lord Berrington handed one to Wilbur and went to stand by the window.

  "Richard," Lord Wilbur began, "some terrible things have been going on here while you were in London. Things of which I, too, was unaware."

  Berrington turned from the window, frowning.

  "What sort of things?"

  Lord Wilbur then told him in great detail all that Irene had disclosed to him. Berrington never interrupted him once, nor did he look at him while he spoke. The only sign of the effect of his words on Berrington was a slight nerve tremor in Berrington's jaw as he clenched his teeth.

  "When Irene and I got back here, Richard," said Willie, "Mrs. Liston accused me of meddling when I called for Dr. Casper, for she had sent for Dr. Jenner."

  "Dr. Jenner!"

  "And she was very upset when I sent a messenger to London to inform you of Lady Berrington's illness. She insisted I was blowing things out of proportion and that Lady Berrington merely had a chill."

  When Lord Wilbur had finished, Berrington said nothing for a few moments and they sat in silence for a while. Then finally, Berrington spoke, his voice full of sorrow.

  "She has been used or abused by everyone she's ever known," he said, the color in his face drained. "Including me."

  He stood up and went again to the window while Lord Wilbur waited in silence. Then he turned back.

  "But not by you, Willie. You have been the only friend she ever had, and for that I blasted you."

  "Richard," Lord Wilbur said rising, "please believe that there has never been anything improper between Lady Berrington and me."

  "I know. And I am sorry for what I said to you. I had no right to say what I did. I have the devil of a temper, as you well know."

  There was an urgent knock at the library door. Lord Wilbur and Lord Berrington looked sharply at each other and then Wilbur went to the door.

  "My lord," said a footman, turning to Berrington, "Dr. Casper requires your presence in the sickroom at once. Lady Berrington has taken a turn for the worse."

  Dr. Casper ran up to meet Berrington. "My lord, he said in a voice full of alarm, "I would advise you to call the Vicar. Lady Berrington is…I…fear she may die at any moment."

  "She is not going to die," said Berrington as he went into the room with Dr. Casper in his wake.

  Huddled in a corner was Irene, sobbing silently, while Bessie knelt at Belinda's side praying. Berrington glanced at his wife's face and winced. If ever he had wanted proof of the truth in Dr. Casper's statement, he had it now.

  Belinda's face was flushed as she burned in fever. She was drenched in perspiration, her loose hair was plastered to her face, and she was breathing only in painful gasps. Her hands were gripped into fists and she was speaking incoherently without stop.

  "Out!" said Berrington suddenly, "Everybody out!"

  "But my lord," protested Dr. Casper, on being ushered to the door by Berrington, who with a steel glance from his eyes also sent Irene and Bessie scrambling out of the room, both sobbing audibly.

  When they were all out of the room he closed and locked the door, removed his jacket, vest, cravat and neck cloth. He then sat on a chair and took off his boots. And only in his shirt, breeches, and stocking feet he got into the bed with Belinda and took her in is arms.

  "My darling, look at me. Look at me," he said, turning Belinda's flushed face toward him. But Belinda's eyes were unfocused and moved dangerously from side to side, as if she were seeing something that pained her too much to see.

  He then cradled her head on his shoulders and rocked her back and forth. He whispered endearments close to her ear, and held one of her hands in a tight grip, as if he would bring her out of her delirium by force.

  * * * * *

  Belinda had been a few minutes sitting on the dusty crate and trembling from head to foot from fear when she realized with a deadly certainty that she was going to spend all night inside the vast cellar that seemed more like a tomb. For a long time she sat thus, paralyzed and numb with the terror that was turning her blood to ice.

  She felt a blow to her head and dimly realized that she had fallen on the humid floor caked with du
st and though a terror of spiders and mice overwhelmed her she was stunned from the blow and unable to focus her eyes on the fast-dying candle.

  The semi-darkness suddenly turned to deep black as the candle stub went out and a terror made her moan out in desperation. Her grip on reality slipped and for an hour she screamed and sobbed at the same time, her body shaking from the effort as she hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness.

  She then wandered through a maze of nightmares in which actual images of her recent life intermingled with a nocturnal dreamscape in which she ran from terrifying shadow forms that were in pursuit of her.

  And when she breathlessly thought she had eluded the terror of one phantom another would appear and embrace her in a death grip.

  No…no…no…no.

  Her voice came to her as if from a distance and she felt suddenly that she was being punished for being selfish.

  The word repeated over and over in her mind: punished…

  punished…punished…until it produced such pain in her that she yelled out in horror.

  Then her mind tried to make a coherent thought within the nightmare as she realized that no one wanted her to live, including her husband, who must curse her for forcing him to marry her.

  If I die he will be free, she heard her thoughts, and he will not hate me anymore. He will marry. Marry someone he loves… someone he loves…someone he loves…the words echoed in the darkly veiled region where she wandered and she felt that if she let go he would be free and he would not hate her anymore. But then, why was he calling her? She could hear his dear voice in the distance:

  Belinda, my darling… come back to me …

  His voice rang in her mind, as if it were real. Yes, he would say those words, for there wouldn't be any chance that she would come back to Winterhill, a house where everyone hated her. He would remember her kindly with the passage of time.

  Yes, if she let go, not wish so desperately to see him at least one more time, he would be free and she would go to some other place, a place where she was not hated.

  My love, come back to me, come back to me…

  It was stubborn and selfish of her to want to see him only one more time before letting go of him forever and leaving Winterhill. It was selfish because without her he would be free and happy.

  Yet his voice rang so clearly in her mind that she fought with it. Her head throbbed with pain from the fall and she tried to form a coherent thought: She must not listen to the words, she must not or she would not be able to leave and he would be shackled with her forever, hating her for not letting go, when it was so easy to fall into that soothing darkness where there was no pain.

  My love, my darling. Come back to me.

  Her mind was making words sound like his voice, tricking her into not letting go, when he would be so happy if she turned the other way and let that soothing dark void take her…take her to a place where there was no grief.

  Yet that voice still pulled her and her hot skin felt a coolness from Berrington's face pressing close to hers. The dark mist seemed to lift a little as his voice called and called,

  Belinda… Belinda…Belinda, my love…

  His voice now was so strong and clear in that maze in which she wandered, that it pulled her harder away from that soft soothing void that wanted to envelope her in a floating cloud of mist and take her away.

  She now felt incapable of resisting it for it was dear and sweet and beckoning. She wanted to answer his voice but could not utter a word, for her throat was parched. She wanted to say a word. She finally said it,

  "Richard…"

  Berrington saw her effort to speak and taking the glass of water pressed it to her lips.

  "My throat is… "

  "Drink the water, darling—take another sip."

  Lord Berrington pressed his face to Belinda's forehead and saw that it was still very hot but not burning as before.

  She still had difficulty breathing but did not seem as frantic as before. She no longer spoke incoherently and had now closed her eyes.

  With a sigh of immense relief and a silent prayer to God, Lord Berrington pressed more water to her lips. Belinda took another sip and another and then sighed, leaning back against the pillow, the tenseness in her body easing. He remained by her side, now and then pressing a few drops of water to her lips.

  The hours went by and Berrington saw with an indescribable joy in his heart that though her breathing was still gasps, the gasps seemed not as loud or hurtful. Through the hours he gave water to her a little at a time, waking her slightly to do so each time.

  She fluttered her eyelids but opened her mouth at his insistence. Again he touched her forehead and saw that it was not burning as hot as before.

  He glanced at the clock in the mantle and saw that it was six in the morning. He had spent all night with his feverish wife in his arms and it had seemed like a few minutes. Wearily he rang for a footman.

  "Is Dr. Casper still in the house?"

  "Yes, my lord. I believe he is dozing by the fire in the library."

  "Ask him to come here at once."

  When the footman had left, Lord Berrington returned to his wife and saw that she was now resting peacefully, apparently asleep.

  On being admitted to the bedroom Dr. Casper went at once to Belinda and examined her. He then turned to Berrington.

  "Her fever has broken, my lord. I have never seen anything like it. Usually, once they have such difficulty breathing and go past a certain point…"

  "She will recover now, will she not?" Berrington hung on the doctor’s words.

  "Yes. I believe she will," said the doctor. "The congestion in her lungs has eased and the fever is down. She is breathing easier now.

  “I'll call the nurse to sit by her. She must have peace and quiet so that she may sleep. I think this will be the first time she will actually sleep."

  "I shall talk to you later, doctor, and thank you for staying the night. I haven't slept in three days. I fear that if I don't get some sleep now I will collapse and then you'll have another patient in your care."

  "Yes, my lord, by all means. I shall take care of things."

  "I want either the nurse, my sister, or her abigail with her at all times until I can come to her again. Under no circumstances is Mrs. Liston or anyone else to be admitted into the room. Do I have your word, Doctor?”

  "Yes, yes," agreed the doctor, seeing that Berrington seemed overwrought and near collapse. Rest your mind on that score, my lord. I will get Leeks to enforce your order.”

  * * * * *

  Looking rested and dressed in a clean shirt, dark jacket, buckskin breeches and gleaming Hessians, Lord Berrington spoke to his valet as the man helped him with his neck cloth.

  "Have Mrs. Liston meet me in the library," he said as the valet gave the final touches to his cravat.

  Berrington had gone to Belinda's room as soon as he woke up and seeing that she was still sleeping peacefully and breathing easily he sighed in relief and had gone back to his room for a bath.

  Now he waited in the library and when Flora, looking perplexed, came into the library, he asked her to sit before him at the desk where he sat.

  "I hear Lady Berrington is recovering," she said in a brittle voice. "Will you be returning to London, Richard?"

  "It is not to discuss my plans that I called you here, Flora, but to discuss yours," he said coldly.

  "My plans? I am afraid I don't understand, Richard.Ihave made no plans that I know of," said Flora, her voice altering slightly.

  "But I have," said Berrington, giving her a level look.

  "Oh?"

  "Even as we speak," he said, "two maids are packing your belongings. Once they have finished with that you will be traveling to Eventide. I have sent word ahead to the caretaker couple you keep there to prepare the place for your permanent residence."

  "Why that's outrageous!" Flora said standing up. "Eventide is so small and hidden away in the backwoods—"

  "Sit
down," The steel in Berrington's voice told Flora she had better comply so she sat down again, at the edge of the chair.

  "Why, pray," she asked, "am I to take up residence at Eventide when my home is here?"

  "Because you are no longer welcome at Winterhill," said Berrington in the coldest voice he had ever used in his life.

  "No longer welcome! Why? Richard, what makes you turn me out like this?"

  "I shall answer in as few words as possible," said Lord Berrington.

  "First of all, you poisoned Irene's mind against my wife even before the marriage to the point that she was led to believe I wanted Belinda punished.

  "You have worked on her innocent mind with all the vileness that is in your character and which I, blind as I was to it, have not seen in its true light until now. I curse myself that I allowed you to help in her raising and I must bear a lot of the blame for that. You have tried and almost succeeded to make of her an embittered, cruel copy of yourself.

  "Thankfully, Irene's true character came out in the end, in time to repair some of the damage she had caused at your prodding.

  "Secondly, your criminal neglect of my wife amounted to attempted murder. You left her in a cold room after removing her from the cellar and made certain she had only a thin cover and the hearth was not lit. In her condition that exacerbated her state and put her at death's door.

  "You called Dr. Jenner, who is in no condition to treat anything more than mild stomach cramps, and when he suggested you call Dr. Casper, you scoffed at that and declared my wife's illness to be nothing more than a chill. Then when Lord Wilbur sent someone to get me back from London you railed at him for that and for calling Dr. Casper.

  "Have I left anything out?" asked Lord Berrington when Flora only stared at him white-faced.

  "These are all lies and distortions, Richard," she said with a strident voice, "I have never had anything but Lady Berrington’s interests at heart."

  "You are a liar, apart from a would-be murderer," said Berrington, his voice as ice. "I think that you have an unhealthy need to be mistress of this house, and for that you will go to any lengths.