‘You climb like a mountain goat,’ Gordon assured her. ‘Speed is not important. This time we shall be spending several days in each area. I shall be glad of an assistant, because there will be so much marking and listing and wrapping to be done. And if I leave you behind here, even in such good hands, I shall worry about you every day and night. There’s nothing I want more than to have you beside me – for every hour for the rest of my life. So please come back with me to the mountains, Lucy.’
Lucy’s heart swelled until she felt that it must surely burst. She had never loved anyone as she loved Gordon. Her inexperience had made it hard for her in the past to be certain that he loved her. On three or four occasions she had felt certain – and yet within a short time some new expression of his love made it appear that the earlier experience had been incomplete. There had been moments of doubt, when she felt that she had forced herself upon him and that he was only making the best of a situation he would have preferred to avoid. He might have felt that he had no choice but to marry her, but she had given him a choice of a kind now, and his answer was all she could have hoped for.
Nor was it an answer only in words, for he opened his arms to enfold her. She had heard him tell her before that he loved her, but this time his voice expressed an appeal as well as an assurance, justifying her trust. The sharing of sorrow had made them one person in a way that love alone could not. Lucy looked into Gordon’s black eyes as he kissed her, and saw there the promise of happiness for the rest of her life.
Epilogue
Epilogue
In September 1890, almost three years after they had sailed separately away from England, Lucy and Gordon returned together to Oxford. While still in China Lucy had received letters from Mr and Mrs Hardie which left her in no doubt of their pleasure in Gordon’s marriage. The warmth of their greeting now made her feel one of the family. Mr Hardie, although saying little but a few words of welcome, kissed her affectionately – while Mrs Hardie took one look at her daughter-in-law, whose pregnancy could not be completely concealed by her travelling cloak, and embraced her lovingly.
‘My dear, I’m so glad! How we felt for you when the news of your disappointment reached us! So far away, with nothing we could do to help or comfort you. Come and lie down after your journey. When do you expect the baby?’
‘Not until after Christmas,’ Lucy told her. ‘So I mustn’t be coddled yet. I’ve had two idle months on board ship. Living in the lap of luxury.’
‘You won’t be able to stop her spoiling you,’ laughed Gordon. ‘The first grandchild is as important to a family business as to a dukedom. And Mother’s quite right that you should rest. Are we to sleep in my old room, Mother?’
Mrs Hardie led the way upstairs to the rooms which had been prepared for them. This would be luxury indeed, thought Lucy. After almost three years of sleeping in tents or bug-infested village inns, the ship which brought them back to England had seemed to offer far more comfort than the cramped quarters of the Parramatta on which they had travelled out – even though the cabins were identical in size. Now she would be able to sleep on a feather mattress in a double bed, and wear clothes kept clean and uncrushed in a wardrobe. They had a sitting-room of their own, with another small room which Gordon could use as a dressing-room or study.
‘It’s lovely!’ exclaimed Lucy, throwing her bonnet on to the bed and crossing to look out of the window. The grounds could not compare with Castlemere, but the gardens were pretty and the lawns trim. They sloped down to an arm of the River Cherwell, and a wide expanse of water meadow on the further side gave an open aspect. A second branch of the river was hidden by trees, with the ground rising gently beyond. After the excitements of China’s mountain scenery, the outlook was in truth rather dull – but Lucy had promised herself never to let any regrets about the ending of her adventure enter her mind. She turned back towards her mother-in-law.
Mrs Hardie was talking in a low voice to Gordon, who put out his hand to draw Lucy to his side.
‘I was asking Mother what had happened to Will Witney, who was lodging in one of these rooms when I left home. And she’s been telling me –’
‘We’ve had to send Will to London, to look after the Pall Mall business,’ Mrs Hardie explained. ‘Mr Hardie hasn’t been at all well this summer, I’m afraid. The doctor advised him to keep his travelling to a minimum, so it was decided that he should stay at home and run the Oxford branch until Gordon returned. As soon as you’re back in charge, Gordon, I shall take him to the country for a holiday.’
‘Could you allow me a week or two?’ asked Gordon. ‘I must supervise the distribution of plants to all my patrons. And make a business arrangement with a nursery.’ He had brought home a thousand bulbs of what would be known from now on as Lilium hardiensis ‘Grace’. It was too beautiful, he had decided, to keep solely for his own pleasure, and it could be used to breed new varieties as well as being sold to flower as he had seen it. But he could not himself afford the time which should be devoted to its development. Besides, as a married man who was about to become a father he would soon need money to set up a home of his own. So he proposed to sell at least half the bulbs, together with the right to breed from them, and this must be done quickly.
Mrs Hardie agreed at once. ‘Of course. I don’t want your father to feel that I’m fussing over his health. I shall suggest to him that you and Lucy might like a little time to yourselves here.’ For a moment longer she allowed anxiety to show in her expression, but then deliberately brightened it as she turned towards Lucy. ‘We shall want you to stay here, Lucy dear, until after the birth of the baby. Even searching for a house of your own may prove hard work. Certainly you mustn’t even think of trying to fit one out and furnish it until you’re strong again.’
‘And Midge?’ asked Gordon. ‘How is Midge?’
‘Still teaching at the Ladies’ College. This is to be her last year there, if her plans go as she hopes. She intends to open a school of her own. But I’ll leave her to tell you about that herself when she comes home for half-term.’
Lucy had liked Midge immensely at their only previous encounter, on the Magdalen barge, and was pleased at the prospect of meeting her again as a sister-in-law. When half-term arrived, though, she was startled by Midge’s appearance. Instead of being bright-eyed and merry, as Lucy had remembered her, she looked severe in her dark travelling clothes and hat. But within only a few minutes she had changed into a green tea-gown and recovered her bubbling vivacity. She demanded to hear all Lucy’s adventures and inspect her paintings. Only when Lucy refused to talk any more, for fear of boring her listener, did Midge in turn pause, giving her new sister-in-law a quizzical look.
‘Was it worth it?’ she asked.
‘Worth it?’
‘Running away. I did so much admire you when I first heard what you’d done. To take your life into your own hands just like that. Such courage. And I can tell from what you’ve just said about the mountains and the sunrises and the silences and the joys of making new discoveries that the expedition itself was everything you hoped for. But in the longer term … I mean, you married, in a sense, so that you might travel to exotic places. But now, just because you are married – and are going to have a family – you’ll probably never be able to travel in such a way again. And so I wondered …’
‘If it were true that I married Gordon only in order to travel, I might well be disappointed,’ Lucy said. ‘But it wasn’t like that at all. I ran away from home because I was in love with him. And I still am. So of course it was worth it.’
‘Good.’ Midge swept away any doubt she might have been feeling with a flashing smile. ‘And your family? Have they accepted the situation?’
That was a more difficult question to answer. ‘I haven’t told them yet that I’m in England,’ Lucy admitted. She had given a good deal of thought to the matter, and decided not to make contact with her grandfather at once. She was anxious for a reconciliation; but although she had given the address of the
Shanghai agent when writing to tell him of her marriage, he had not made use of it. It would be best now, she thought, to wait until she could show him her baby. Little Grace, blonde and beautiful, would remind him of his own beloved daughter, and of Lucy herself, and he might love her as he had loved them.
Not everything went according to this plan. The baby was born at the beginning of January, and was as blond and beautiful as Gordon and Lucy could possibly have imagined. But it was a boy.
Lucy, of course, was delighted with her son and laughed at herself for having felt so certain that she would have a daughter. As she cradled him in her arms, she was sure that life could have no greater happiness in store for her. An adoring husband and an adorable baby; surely she must be the luckiest woman in the world.
Gordon was equally delighted, needing no words to show how glad he was that their previous disappointment was a thing of the past. He looked down at his wife and son with love in his eyes – but that did not prevent him from teasing her.
‘I ordered a daughter,’ he said. ‘We can’t christen a boy with the name of our lily. Grace Hardie! How the other boys would rag him!’
‘I’m very sorry,’ said Lucy demurely. ‘I’ll try to do better next time.’
‘See that you do, then. In the meantime, this young gentleman will do very nicely. Another generation of the house of Hardie in waiting to take over one day. My parents are as pleased as Punch.’
They showed their pleasure as soon as Gordon was willing to make room for them at his wife’s bedside – and Midge, too, was delighted by the baby.
‘I shall enjoy being an aunt,’ she announced, offering a finger to be gripped in the tiny fist. ‘I shall have all the fun of playing with him and spoiling him – and then handing him back to you when he grows tired of me. We shall be good friends, he and I. But now you must rest.’
Lucy rested. Surrounded by love and friendly service, she was quick to regain her strength. One of her first tasks after she left her bed was to write to her grandfather.
In her first letter – the letter which had never been acknowledged – she had not only announced her marriage, but asked to be forgiven for the distress which she must have caused him both by her disappearance and by her disobedience. There seemed no need to repeat the apology. She was twenty-one years old, a married woman and a mother. She allowed pride and dignity to mingle with her affection as she asked if she might bring her son to meet his great-grandfather, whom one day he would love as dearly as she did herself. There was no reply.
‘Perhaps he’s away from home,’ she suggested to her husband after a little time had passed. ‘Or …’ But surely he could not be dead. She asked Gordon to make enquiries, and within two days he brought her news. The marquess had removed his custom from The House of Hardie, as was to be expected, but it had nevertheless proved easy enough to discover that he was in residence at Castlemere.
Lucy received this information with tightened lips and head held high. Naturally she had realized when she ran away that she was saying goodbye to the life of luxury which she had enjoyed at Castlemere, and to her expectations of any marriage settlement. She had not minded that, knowing that it was not for her money that Gordon loved her. But she had not thought that her behaviour would cause more than a temporary estrangement. Her grandfather had loved her; and love, surely, could not be killed by a little recklessness, a flash of anger. So at least she had believed – but it seemed that she was wrong.
Gordon was watching her, aware of the distress she must feel. Lucy summoned all her resolve and, instead of weeping, smiled.
‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘I have all the family I need here. Your parents and Midge, and you and the baby – and little Grace one day. What more can I ask? I’m part of the house of Hardie now.’
A Note on the Author
Anne Melville is a pseudonym of Margaret Potter (1926–1998), a daughter of the author and lecturer Bernard Newman. She read Modern History at Oxford as a scholar of St Hugh’s College, and after graduating she taught and travelled in the Middle East. On returning to England, she edited a children’s magazine for a few years, but later devoted all her working time to writing.
Discover books by Anne Melville published by Bloomsbury Reader at
www.bloomsbury.com/AnneMelville
Lorimers at War
Lorimers in Love
Lorimer Loyalties
The Last of the Lorimers
The Lorimer Legacy
The Lorimer Line
The House of Hardie
Grace Hardie
The Hardie Inheritance
For copyright reasons, any images not belonging to the original author have been removed from this book. The text has not been changed, and may still contain references to missing images.
This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square, London WC1B 3DP
First published in Great Britain in 1988 by Grafton Books
Copyright © 1988 Anne Melville
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
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eISBN: 9781448214372
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The House of Hardie Page 26