Pressed against the wall with his outstretched arms penning her in, she gazed at him with anguish in her eyes.
‘Simon is not William Munroe’s son.’
It was a moment or two before he took in the import of that sentence. When he did, it was the shock she had meant it to be. His arms dropped to his sides and aggressive excitement swiftly ebbed. Kitty’s face was now quite ashen, but the anguished gaze had changed to one of compassion as she said, ‘That was why I ran from you.’
‘And here to him?’ Vere heard himself ask.
She shook her head. ‘He died in the same landslide that claimed my stepfather.’
‘I see. Did he know he had a son?’
‘Simon was born after the accident.’
‘Munroe knew?’
‘We had not been man and wife for several years. I had become little more than a housekeeper in his eyes. He was possessed by the drive to find the stone that would dwarf all others. Nothing else mattered to him.’
Vere moved away trying to put his thoughts in order. Was she telling him she remained loyal to her lover, and that the days he had spent with her in Vrymanskop had been merely a brief interlude on the veld? His plans, his hopes now seemed out of reach. He felt curiously betrayed … and yet he could not believe those nights together had been prompted by anything save mutual deep love.
‘The diamond necklet with flowers at the side — he gave it to you?’
Kitty crossed the few feet to a window and gazed from it as if seeing the past. ‘It now seems unreal. So much has touched my life since that tragic accident.’
‘He did give you the necklet?’
‘He arrived in Kimberley with money enough for a good claim and a modest two-roomed house,’ she began in faraway tones. ‘He struck lucky immediately, which prompted William to make his acquaintance and persuade my stepfather to invite him to dinner. He had been crossed in love, and we were both lonely. It was easy to offer each other friendship. We had not expected it to get out of hand, of course. He was cultured and gentle — so unlike the man I had married — and I became deeply drawn to him without considering the danger. We tried several times to end our relationship, knowing it could not bring happiness.’ She turned to face Vere looking stricken. ‘He had the necklet made as a birthday gift. Two days later he was buried beneath tons of earth.’
‘You still love him?’ Vere asked her.
‘I loved him then. He has gone, along with the life I knew. I am a different woman now.’
‘You continue to wear the necklet.’
‘It’s the only token of love I’ve ever received,’ she explained gently. ‘When his son marries, I shall give it to his bride. It’s Simon’s heritage from his father.’
Still shaken and uncertain, Vere said, ‘He wants me to be his father?’
She came up to him. ‘You see now why it’s out of the question.’
He looked down into the face he had thought of so often during the advance on Ladysmith and knew he would never be happy again without her. ‘Nothing is out of the question when you look through a rosy glass. I offer you mine to share, Kitty Kellaway. If you refuse I shall never see clearly again.’
*
The convalescent home stood in a long avenue bordered by colourful shrubs in the district where the elite of Kimberley chose to live. The large house was owned by the Honourable Mrs Gort, widow of a wealthy diamond broker, whose son had been killed during a sortie outside the city with the Diamond Fields Horse. Mrs Gort and her two daughters had offered this home to the military medical authorities as a place where wounded or sick officers could recoup their strength and spirits before returning to duty.
Blasedon was just one of many similar grand homes which had been used in like manner from the start of the siege. Val cursed fate for sending him to the very one in which Mrs Beecham and Vivienne had been doing voluntary, unskilled nursing work during their incarceration. In truth, it was not fate but a particular request from Mrs Beecham that was responsible for officers of the 57th Lancers being sent there, if space was available. The arrangement was normally welcomed by the patients, for their colonel’s wife was well liked, but the newest subaltern of the 57th found the proximity of her inquisitive, persistent daughter more than irksome.
On the death of Giles Manning, Colonel Beecham had honoured his promise to put Sir Gilliard’s grandson where he had every right to be, but Second-Lieutenant Martin Havelock was the first Ashleigh to have fully earned his rank before acquiring it. Max Beecham’s report had not only gained Val the coveted commission, it had brought him a D.C.M. for gallantry in rescuing his wounded commander under fire, and for then leading his men in a successful action against the enemy. His own wounds had healed well and he was keen to rejoin the regiment, but the medical officer insisted on a period of convalescence. Hence, what Val regarded as his imprisonment in Blasedon.
In the main, the officers had accepted the promotion of a sergeant very evidently from their own class. One or two took exception to anyone being brought into the Mess from the ranks. Audley Pickering was completely enraged. He knew, like Val, that equal rank would make their enmity more subtle. It would also throw them together in social as well as military situations. If Pickering was furious, Val was overjoyed. His arch enemy’s days were numbered, on that he was determined. Vivienne Beecham was a different problem. His new rank made friendship of even the closest kind perfectly permissible between them. He would be unable to avoid her, unable to fend off her advances. She was the type of girl to take the fullest advantage of her position and enjoy his reaction to it. She was also now in a better position to probe into his past and to discover his true identity.
She was already making it very obvious that she had what his dead school friend, Clive, had called ‘her eye on him’. Comments had been passed by others within his hearing concerning someone who had only just come in by the back door having his sights set on swift advancement. The jocular remarks had contained a bite, and Val cursed the girl for her lack of subtlety. But for that, he might have quite enjoyed her company. They shared a number of interests and she could be entertaining when she abandoned her habit of making him the butt of her amusement. He had, in fact, felt very sorry for her on meeting up in Kimberley for the first time. Always thin, she had looked almost skeletal, and her narrow face had reflected the rigours suffered while the relief force had been endeavouring to break through. His sympathy had been swiftly banished by her effusive greeting of her ‘mystery man’ whom she now saw as the complete hero — a wounded one, to boot. The sooner he could rejoin the 57th the better.
He was strolling around the garden one afternoon in March when Vivienne made a beeline for him across the lawn. Escape was impossible. The path had no turnings and he was in full view of other patients with visitors. She had gained weight, and there was colour in her cheeks today making her look almost attractive in the long white cotton dress with a starched lace collar. There was something different about her hair, but he could not tell what. It was still a harsh carroty red in the sunshine.
‘What are you doing prowling around down here?’ she demanded in tut-tut fashion.
‘I’m not prowling.’
‘Yes, you are. That leg wound needs rest. Come and sit down.’
‘If I sit it’ll be on a horse, not on one of those fancy garden seats,’ he said impatiently. ‘There’s no reason whatever for me to be kept here.’
‘The medical officer says there is.’
‘He’s a fool.’
She linked her arm through his. ‘Dear Havelock, he knows very well, as I do, that you’re longing to ride off and do something else terribly brave. You’ve already done more than enough to earn a rest.’
He unlinked their arms and walked on putting greater distance between them. ‘Until a peace agreement is signed it’s my duty to fight. What’s the point in giving me a commission then locking me up in here?’
‘What nonsense! Blasedon is not in the least like a prison. You should k
now that after spending twenty-eight days in one last year.’
Val felt his colour rise at her reminder of something he was ashamed of, and he was furious. ‘If you’ve come after me just to be unpleasant, two can play that game. You’re still my colonel’s daughter, but my rank now allows me to give you a piece of my mind.’
She laughed. ‘You’ve always done that, even when you were a trooper. That’s why I like you so much. The others are scared of putting a foot wrong where I’m concerned, but you don’t care a jot whether you upset me. We can be perfectly honest with each other. That makes us special friends.’
Warning bells rang. ‘No, it doesn’t.’ He had no intention whatever of being perfectly honest with her. If she ever discovered his true identity all would be lost.
She swung round to step in front of him forcing him to a halt, and there was a disturbing gleam in her eyes as she looked up at him appealingly. ‘Why are you always so prickly when I try to be friendly? Ah, don’t say what you usually say!’ she added swiftly before he could speak. ‘You’re not a sergeant any longer so your stuffy notions about rank don’t apply. Father thinks very highly of you, and Mother has no objections to our friendship, so why won’t you unbend?’
The bells were ringing louder now. The humiliation of surrender to Julia Grieves’ offer of friendship would take a long time to forget, and this girl had a hint of the same desire to get the upper hand. He suffered the usual inability to counter Vivienne’s overtures, save by withdrawing smartly.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be on duty? Don’t let me keep you.’
She put both hands on his arms and sighed, ‘Oh, Havelock, you really are infuriating! You wrote such a marvellous letter in reply to mine at Christmas. All the time I was looking after our wounded here I was worrying about what might be happening to you outside. You seemed pleased to see me when I first visited you in the hospital, so I thought getting your commission made all the difference. Now you’re up to your old tricks again.’
He was desperate to get away, but they were in full view of everyone in the gardens so he could hardly disentangle himself and march off. ‘You’re the one who plays tricks,’ he accused. ‘And I always seem to be on the receiving end of them.’
‘That’s only when you start getting huffy and arrogant. You can be awfully nice when you make an effort. Please do it now.’
Resigned to defeat, Val said, ‘Not if you’re going to start asking questions.’
‘I won’t … at least, not about the pack of lies you’ve told us concerning your past as a stable-boy.’
He turned away and set off in the opposite direction. ‘There you are. You’re off already!’
‘No, I’m not,’ she cried, going after him. ‘That wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact. Everyone knows you made all that up. You’ve never acted in the least like a stable-boy.’ She fell in beside him. ‘I told you once before that whatever it was that made you enlist as a trooper could not have been bad enough to merit such punishment. I know you could never do anything dishonourable.’
‘Yes, I can. You’ve just enjoyed reminding me of my month behind bars.’
‘There you are!’ she cried, striding along beside him. ‘I did not enjoy reminding you of it. I used it to show you how foolish you were to call this place a prison. In any case, that affair last year was caused by Audley’s vindictiveness … and your own silly pride. You gave Felix Wheeler no option but to lock you up. Havelock! Stand still while I explain.’
He strode on. ‘I’m not a sergeant any longer. You can’t order me about in that haughty fashion.’
Unabashed she ran past and halted in his path. ‘Please, Havelock dear, will you kindly stand still?’ Her wide smile disconcerted him enough to do as she asked. Then she added further persuasion in tones that made his heart sink. ‘It’s because you’re no longer a sergeant that you must stop this silly nonsense of fobbing me off. It’s perfectly acceptable for us to be seen together now, and you’re going to need me in the months ahead.’
‘Why?’ he demanded bluntly. As she put up a hand to tuck in a wisp of her bright hair with fingers that had bandaged some horrifying wounds, Val thought yet again that she would be all right if she would only stop teasing. To soften his response a little, he added, ‘I’ll be going up the line to rejoin the regiment soon. The war’s not over yet.’
‘It will be before long. Then we’ll be back to normal peacetime. Most of the officers are quite nice — particularly the married ones — but one or two are pompous asses who can make your life uncomfortable in the Mess. Audley’s livid about your promotion. He’ll be out to rob you of it in any way possible.’
‘Let him try,’ said Val through his teeth.
‘That’s why you’ll need my friendship.’ Vivienne told him warningly. ‘Although he has influential connections, Father still commands the regiment. If Audley oversteps the mark he’ll be reprimanded, but he’s less likely to persecute you if he sees us together a lot.’
‘Good God, do you think I’d hide behind your skirt because of a nincompoop like Pickering?’ cried Val indignantly.
‘Don’t get on your high horse,’ she flashed back. ‘That temper of yours will be pushed to the limits by him. He may be a military disaster, but he’s socially very sly and smooth. You most certainly are not! I’m determined to stop you from walking straight into his trap.’
‘But into yours instead,’ he said before he knew it.
It silenced her for a moment or two. Then her green eyes softened with enlightenment. ‘A girl was behind it all! That explains everything. You’ve been deeply hurt and won’t trust any female now. Poor Havelock, how you must have suffered!’
Knowing escape was imperative before she began exposing something he had foolishly betrayed, he looked around for some excuse to rid himself of her company. Help came in the most astonishing form as he spotted one of the other volunteer helpers pointing him out to a man who stood on the steps leading to this lower part of the garden. Setting off across the grass, Val was met half-way by the brother from whom he had parted under distressing circumstances three years ago.
‘What the blazes are you doing in Kimberley?’ he demanded as he gripped Vere’s hand. ‘I thought you’d be in Ladysmith for some while yet. How well you look! Alderton was wrong all the time then? You’ve changed. Filled out. You look so happy! Your pictures are splendid. I’ve seen every edition of the Illustrated. I’m proud to be your brother. I just wish I could tell everyone.’
‘Hey, hey, take a pause for breath,’ laughed Vere. ‘Stand back and let me look at you. I said goodbye to a schoolboy in cricketing togs. My word, you’ve changed too, lad. You’ve grown taller, even more muscular, and that fine moustache completes your emergence to manhood. I hardly recognize you. Congratulations on your commission, by the way. I only heard about it when I made enquiries about my “cousin” Martin Havelock. You’ve done very well. I’m proud to be your brother, Val.’
This unexpected meeting with someone who represented the house and family he had lost caused Val suddenly to become choked with emotion. ‘Are you? Someone hiding behind a false identity because he let the family down?’
Vere gripped his shoulder and coaxed him to move away from the proximity of a rowdy group to the relative seclusion of a walk bordered by oleanders. ‘Look, old son, let’s clear the air before we go any further. You merely did at Chartfield what we all do initially — lose our head over a female. I went off to die in the desert for one, and should have had more sense at twenty-six. I don’t know the ins and outs of your affair, and have no wish to know, but you were only eighteen and fighting a very superior foe. I hold Grandfather entirely to blame for what happened, and I’m filled with admiration for the way you have overcome all obstacles to gain what should have been yours with his blessing.’ He stopped to face Val. ‘I’m deeply sorry you’ve been obliged to lose the family connection, but you’re not really using a false identity. Martin and Havelock are both on your birth certifi
cate, so it’s just a case of using your two middle names rather than the ones we’re used to.’ He smiled warmly. ‘You’ve not let the family down. Quite the reverse. I was told you’ve been recommended for a Distinguished Conduct Medal for the action in which you were wounded.’
Val nodded, cheered by his brother’s words. ‘It’ll eventually be gazetted, so Grandfather’s bound to see it. Will he be pleased do you think?’
‘He won’t show it … but he can’t fail to be.’ Vere sighed. ‘Age is slowly conquering him, you know. When I left a year ago he was fighting the inevitable by dwelling deeper and deeper on the past. I’m afraid we’ve all been bitter disappointments to him by not following the narrow paths he set us upon. What he has never realized is that, being his grandchildren, we have all inherited his qualities. We have the same determination to live our own lives as we desire. I told him that, and suggested that he would have resisted any attempt to turn him from his chosen course when he was young. He reacted in typical fashion, of course. I’m afraid we parted on bad terms. I had turned down a commission in the West Wilts in favour of a tour of the Mediterranean with my brushes.’
Val saw the disastrous aspect of this statement. ‘Good God, what courage! Poor Grandfather. Two of us spurning the family regiment!’
They sat on a seat placed in a sunny recess in the bordering shrubs, while they talked of things they had both done and seen since their last meeting. Then they spoke of their sisters.
A Distant Hero Page 24