A Matter of Duty

by Sandra Heath

  Lady Grantham was appalled. ‘But, my dear, it will not be a place for a lady.’

  ‘I must be with my husband.’ Thea looked imploringly at Kit. ‘Take me with you. Please, I beg of you.’

  Such a heartbroken appeal was impossible to refuse, and although he still felt uncomfortable, he offered her his arm and they proceeded through the crowds toward the inn. Thea couldn’t resist tossing a victorious glance back at Louisa, who remained with the earl.

  The earl was much concerned. ‘Louisa, you must go too, don’t allow her any chances at all.’

  ‘He doesn’t want me, he’s made that perfectly clear.’ Her voice shook a little.

  ‘Nevertheless.…’

  ‘Please, my mind is made up, I’ll stay out here.’

  He fell silent, seeing that for the moment she was too upset to be reasoned with. But in a while he had every intention of putting pressure on her again. She’d agreed to put her marriage in his hands, and he wasn’t going to allow Thea such an easy victory.

  The surgeon had arrived only a moment before Kit and Thea entered, and was leaning over Rowe’s still-unconscious body, applying a dressing to the bloody wound on his forehead.

  The low, beamed room was crowded with gentlemen, including Lord Grantham and Charles Pelham, who stood at the foot of the narrow bed. The windows had been closed to shut out the noise from the quay below.

  Thea waited with convincing anxiety, twisting a handkerchief in trembling, anguished hands. The surgeon straightened, drawing a heavy breath. Lord Grantham looked anxiously at him. ‘Well? How is he?’

  ‘Not good, not good at all, sir. I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for him, he’s lost far too much blood already and is still losing it. Perhaps it’s as well, because from what I’ve seen of his arm …’ The man shook his head. ‘It should have been amputated days ago. For his sake I think what happened today was a kindness, for now he’ll go quickly.’

  Thea was staring at him. Rowe was going to die, after all? Ever mindful of her very public anguish, she gave a heartrending cry and began to rush to the bedside, but Lord Grantham restrained her.

  ‘My lady, my lady, he’s in no condition!’

  ‘But I must see him! He’s my husband and I love him dearly!’

  Kit shifted his position uncomfortably, averting his eyes.

  Lord Grantham saw nothing amiss in her conduct, but still held her back from the bedside. ‘Please don’t stay here, my dear, it will only cause you pain. Allow me to take you down to my wife, let her look after you.…’

  ‘No!’ Thea was still determined not to be separated from Kit, but now saw he was siding with Lord Grantham.

  ‘He’s right,’ he said, ‘you shouldn’t be here.’

  Her mind was racing. ‘Very well,’ she said at last, her glance falling on the landlord, who was hovering anxiously in the doorway. ‘Landlord, do you have a room where I can be private? I wish to be on my own for a while.’

  The man nodded quickly. ‘Oh, yes, my lady, there’s a parlor off the taproom where you can be quite alone.’

  She looked at Kit. ‘You’ll come and tell me the moment…?’ She broke off wretchedly, believable tears shining in lovely eyes.

  He had to consent. ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘You promise?’

  ‘I promise.’

  Satisfied that he would do as she asked, she went out of the room with the landlord, and as the door closed behind her, the surgeon spoke again. ‘I didn’t like to say anything in front of her ladyship, but Lord Rowe will not see many more minutes out, he’s slipping away quite quickly.’

  As if to prove him wrong, Rowe stirred slightly, his dull eyes flickering and opening. Their fading glance moved straight toward Kit, as if he sensed he was there. ‘Highclare.’ The single word was said so feebly that it was barely audible.

  Kit moved unwillingly to the bedside.

  Dislike poured out of the dying man’s eyes. ‘You escape me, after all,’ he whispered. ‘I’d have put an end to you, on the same rocks as the Mercury. I’d have sent you to the bottom as surely as I sent the Eleanor. I had it all planned, it could not fail.’

  Lord Grantham and Charles Pelham exchanged shocked glances, and a stir passed through the other gentlemen.

  Rowe’s bloodless lips were curved in a parody of a smile. ‘Tom Cherington has had to wait, but he’s got me, after all. Your governess will … will dance on … my grave.…’ His eyes were closing and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

  Out on the quay, Louisa was seated in the Highclare carriage with the earl. He’d been holding his tongue, but now he decided it was time to press her again.

  ‘My dear, I must remind you that you’re leaving that woman precious minutes with Kit. Do you want him or not?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I want anymore, he’s made it clear what he wants.’

  ‘Has he? Are you telling me that he didn’t respond to you when you kissed him in front of everyone? Was it my imagination that he held you close and returned your kiss?’

  She raised her sad eyes to his face.

  He took her hands. ‘He’s your husband, Louisa, your husband, the man you vowed to love and cherish and who made those same vows to you. I don’t think he uttered them any more lightly than you did, so you must go to him now, you must.’

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘You’re twice the woman she’ll ever be, and I don’t think she really stands a chance against you. Go to him now, my dear, it’s your duty.’

  Her duty? Did everything always come down to duty?

  ‘It’s your place to be with him, Louisa, not hers. Go in there now and deny her what she seeks to steal from you.’

  She hesitated then, wanting to find strength in what he said.

  He smiled, releasing her hands. ‘Go to him, my dear, for if you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself.’

  She was suddenly swayed. He was right, she had to go. Gathering her skirt, she alighted from the carriage and hurried toward the inn.

  The earl sat back, smiling. There was more than a mere kitten in the new Lady Highclare, there was a little of the tiger as well.

  Lady Grantham and the Misses Carpenter were by the inn door as Louisa approached, and they seemed to be trying to see into a window immediately next to it. A maid was just drawing the curtains, and before she did so, Louisa caught a glimpse of Thea languishing tearfully inside on her own, a handkerchief held pathetically to her eyes. Louisa hesitated and then made up her mind; it was time to face this other woman.

  She managed to slip unseen past the ladies, who were too busy discussing the awful events of the morning to notice her. The taproom was crowded as gentlemen jostled for service with the sailors and fishermen who always frequented the inn. The landlord saw her immediately and came hurrying over, recognizing her from having watched her arrive earlier.

  ‘Lady Highclare, I’m afraid his lordship is upstairs with—’

  ‘It’s Lady Rowe I wish to see.’

  He looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Her ladyship wishes to be alone, she’s very distressed.’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll see me,’ she replied, looking toward the door of the room where she’d seen Thea.

  He was in a quandary, but then decided that he’d do as Louisa wished. ‘Very well, my lady, if you’ll come this way.’

  He conducted her through the taproom toward the door, and immediately he knocked, Thea began to sob loudly within, her voice catching as she answered. ‘Yes? Who is it?’

  ‘Lady Highclare wishes to see you, my lady.’

  There was sudden silence, the sobs stopping as quickly as they’d begun. ‘Very well, show her in.’

  He opened the door and Louisa went inside. The door closed behind her, shutting off the noise of the taproom, and she was alone with Thea.

  The darkened room was small and sparsely furnished, with two high-backed settles on either side of an inglenook fireplace. The walls had bee
n recently white-washed, the floor was red-raddled, and a table stood in the center of it. Thea still occupied the only other chair, and because the curtains were drawn, it was at first difficult to see her face, but then she rose to her feet, her lime-green skirt rustling as she came closer.

  ‘So, governess, we meet at last. Have you come to concede defeat?’

  ‘No. Why should I? I have his ring, you don’t.’ Louisa held up her left hand. The band of gold gleamed softly in the subdued light.

  ‘You may wear it for the moment, my dear, but you won’t for very much longer. Kit made a great many decisions that first night he was back on the island. He told me that when I was free he intended to set you aside. He regards you as a millstone of monumental embarrassment, did you know?’

  ‘I don’t believe you, you’d say anything to try to destroy me.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself, governess, for I really don’t need to try, you were destroyed the moment your name was linked to Geoffrey Lawrence’s. Kit will never forgive you.’

  Louisa held her ground. ‘Maybe you were looking the other way when he kissed me on the quay just before the accident.’

  Thea turned sharply away. ‘You begin to bore me, governess. Kit is a red-blooded man, he was bound to respond to such a wanton display as yours. You threw yourself on him, and really, it was very embarrassing. I could tell he found it discomforting, and so could everyone else I heard passing comments. You made a fool of yourself, my dear. Why don’t you just remove yourself from his vicinity, for you’re not going to win.’ She turned spitefully back. ‘I’m waiting here for him now, he’s coming to me the moment Rowe’s breathed his last.’

  Louisa stared at her. ‘Lord Rowe is dying?’

  ‘Yes. What price your precious wedding ring then, mm?’ Thea smiled unpleasantly.

  Louisa was shaken, for somehow it hadn’t occurred to her that Rowe’s injuries were fatal, after all. How could she possibly compete if this woman was free? What hope did she have?

  The door suddenly opened and to her dismay Kit came in. ‘Thea, Rowe died a few moments ago, and—’ He broke off, seeing Louisa.

  Thea smiled triumphantly, going to him. ‘I’ve been waiting for you, darling,’ she murmured.

  He spoke to Louisa. ‘Please wait outside.’

  ‘But, Kit—’

  ‘Do as I say. I’ll be out directly.’

  She stared miserably at him. Everything Thea had said was true. With a choked sob, she hurried past, pausing just outside to glance unhappily back. The door was swinging to, and she caught a glimpse of Thea slipping her arms around him, her lips upturned yearningly to meet his.

  It was too much to bear. Louisa pushed tearfully through the taproom, causing no small comment in her haste. She dashed out into the sunlight past Lady Grantham and the Misses Carpenter, and she heard their amazed gasps as she ran along the quay toward the carriage.

  The earl saw her coming and opened the carriage door in great concern. ‘My dear, whatever is it?’

  He helped her inside and closed the door again, drawing the blinds down so that no one could see, for everyone had noticed her distress. He took her trembling hands. ‘Please tell me, Louisa. What’s happened?’

  She bit her lip, trying to blink back the tears. ‘It’s her he wants, I know it beyond any shadow of a doubt. He’s going to set me aside so that he can marry her.’

  ‘But Rowe.…’

  ‘Lord Rowe is dead. She’s free now, and that’s all Kit has ever wanted. He thinks of me as a millstone and I embarrass him.’

  The earl was taken aback. ‘Kit said that to you?’

  ‘No. He told her and she told me.’

  His eyes cleared. ‘Then I think we can regard it as a fairy tale. You’ve fallen into her trap, my dear; there isn’t a shred of truth in what she says.’

  ‘Isn’t there? When I left they were in each other’s arms.’

  ‘Oh, surely not.…’

  ‘I saw them. There was no mistake.’ She swallowed, her voice breaking. ‘I’ve played and lost, and now it’s time for me to leave while I still have any pride.’

  ‘Leave? No, I won’t hear of it!’

  ‘Please. Let me go, I can’t bear it anymore. I want to leave as quickly as possible – on the afternoon packet if possible.’

  ‘But what will become of you, my dear?’

  ‘I’ll manage.’ She gave a wry smile, her lips trembling. ‘I’m sure I’ll find a position, for what a talking point it will be to be able to say that you’ve employed the notorious Lady Highclare as governess?’

  ‘Please don’t talk like that.…’

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t help it. Too much has happened to me and this is the end. Can I return to Highclare now?’

  ‘Please reconsider.’

  ‘I can’t. It’s all over, and I know it.’

  He nodded sadly. ‘Very well, my dear. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘No, there’s no need. Besides, I think I’ll be better on my own.’

  ‘If you wish. Send the carriage back.’

  ‘Yes.’

  He climbed out, slamming the door behind him and telling the coachman to drive to Highclare. As it drew away, he turned to look darkly at the Mermaid Inn, then tugging his hat on firmly, he walked toward it.

  He arrived just as the harassed landlord emerged from the doorway to beg Lady Grantham to come and help as Lady Rowe was having hysterics. Lady Grantham didn’t wish to be seen entering a low establishment, but felt that circumstances were somewhat extenuating and so she followed the man inside. The earl moved in their wake, for where Lady Rowe was, there was Kit to be found as well.

  The taproom was hushed because of the noise coming from the little parlor. Thea’s loud sobs echoed through the building and became louder as the landlord opened the door and ushered Lady Grantham inside. Kit was standing before the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes downcast. Thea was in the chair, her face hidden in her hands as she wept, and at first she was so distraught that Lady Grantham couldn’t do anything with her.

  The earl stood by the doorway, looking on with reluctant admiration. By God, the creature was a superb actress. She missed her vocation by not going on the stage. Her tears seemed so real that no one could know they were false.

  At last Lady Grantham coaxed Thea from the chair and, putting a soothing arm around her shoulder, led her from the room. The men in the taproom parted to allow the two women through, and a moment later the Grantham barouche had been brought to the door and was conveying Thea away.

  The earl went slowly into the parlor, closing the door behind him as a buzz of conversation broke out in the taproom. Kit looked up. ‘Grandfather?’

  ‘Do you really intend to foist that – that strumpet on Highclare?’

  Kit seemed puzzled. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘I don’t recollect your hearing to be in any way impaired, Christopher. I asked you if you meant to bring that crocodile-teared creature to Highclare.’

  Kit’s eyes cleared then. ‘There was nothing crocodile about her tears, Grandfather; they were real enough, I promise you.’

  ‘Am I supposed to believe she’s grieving for that maggot Rowe?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then what exactly are you saying?’

  Kit smiled at him. ‘Let me put it this way, what is it that you’d like to hear me say more than anything else? What is it that you’ve been conniving at for the past few days?’

  The earl stared at him, and then a slow smile broke out on his delighted face.

  33

  Louisa’s carriage was almost at Highclare It had passed through the gates and was driving up toward the house. Since leaving Cowes, she’d striven to hold her tears at bay, because she’d now have to face Newton and possibly some of the other servants. She’d left the carriage blinds down, for it was somehow easier when she knew no one could see her. She sat with her eyes downcast. How could she ever have hoped to win? She’d foolishly dreamed of play
ing invisible trumps and emerging the victor, but everything had been stacked against her all the time. Governesses didn’t win the hearts of lords like Kit, and she’d been the ultimate fool, reaching out toward the flame only to burn herself very badly indeed.

  The carriage drew to a halt below the terrace and she alighted, instructing the coachman to return to Cowes and then hurrying up the steps. Newton, having perceived the carriage’s approach, opened the door quickly. Hengist and Horsa bounded out to greet her, and she paused for a moment to fuss them before going into the entrance hall. She hoped she appeared collected as she faced the butler. ‘Would you tell Pattie to go to my suite and pack my things. I shall be leaving Highclare today and I won’t be returning.’

  He was totally taken aback. ‘L-leaving, my lady?’

  ‘Yes.’ She’d already decided what she was going to do in the meantime in order to avoid curious eyes. ‘If I’m needed at all, you’ll find me on the roof.’ She didn’t wait for him to say anything else, but gathered her skirt to go up the stairs.

  The astonished butler remained where he was for a moment, watching as Hengist and Horsa trotted up behind her, then he returned to the kitchens to break the news to Pattie.

  The gazebo’s French windows were closed, and the sunlight streaming unchecked in through the glass made the little building as hot as a greenhouse. She stepped out onto the roof promenade, taking a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Hengist and Horsa padded beside her, seeming determined to keep her company. She stood by the stone balustrade, looking across the park and the Solent toward the mainland. From up here it was possible to see for miles.

  Impulsively she untied her gypsy hat and took it off. The breeze felt good on her face, and after a moment’s hesitation, she reached up to unpin her hair, shaking the dark-red curls so that they fell heavily about her shoulders: She was still very close to tears, but could hold them back, as if she’d found some inner strength to carry her through this last part of her ordeal.

  Hengist and Horsa sprawled beside her in companionable silence, almost as if they understood how she was feeling. She stared at the magnificent view without really seeing it. It seemed a lifetime now since she’d been a governess at Lawrence Park, with no prospect of ever being anything else. The highlights of that existence had been her occasional meetings with Tom, but those meetings had been very few and far between. She’d seen so little of him over the past year that sometimes she still couldn’t believe that he’d gone forever; it was as if she’d suddenly receive one of his hastily scribbled notes asking when they could next meet in Brentford. She’d never receive such a note again, but her existence was soon to return to what it had been before, provided she could find a position. She’d spoken bravely enough to the earl, but would anyone really wish to employ a woman who’d be talked of as a discarded adventuress? What hope did she really have of finding respectable employment?