“For how long?”
“Forever,” she said sadly. “I must have loved him forever now that I look back.”
“Then you can comprehend my feelings in this moment.”
Lucy turned to him, her eyes flooding with tears. “Henry, I am so sorry, but if it is of the smallest consequence, I do not believe that your brother loves me. So you see, we are both made unhappy.”
“And you are absolutely certain of your feelings for him?”
She nodded and sighed.
She sat beside him for a long time.
Finally he said, “These chairs are deuced uncomfortable.”
Lucy chuckled. “Well they are meant for the children, after all.”
Leaving the fort, he offered his arm to her and she took it.
“Please tell me all will be well?” she queried gently.
He smiled sadly then laughed. “I must confess I never had a great deal of hope. I gave you so many hints and yet you remained completely oblivious.”
“I must have, for I cannot remember your having given me a single one.”
“I tried to tell you something of my feelings at the assemblies when I took you to have some refreshments but you were distracted by Hetty who was at the time speaking with Mr. Woolston. Do you remember?”
She shook her head and frowned. “I remember Hetty and Mr. Woolston, but not that you were attempting to engage my affections.”
He groaned anew. “There, you see. I tried to tell you how beautiful you were, that indeed you had never looked prettier.”
“You said such things to me?” she cried.
He nodded.
“How dreadful that I cannot remember your having done so. Henry, I do beg your pardon!”
“It is of little consequence and do not worry, my heart is not completely shattered.”
Making the circuit back through the maze, she asked, “Were you waiting to see if I would accept of your hand in marriage before taking holy orders?”
“Of course.”
“Am I right in supposing then that the sole reason you would have done so was for the sake of wedding me?”
“Precisely.”
“Have you no love for the church?”
“I have no love for being a priest.”
She stopped and turned toward him. “Henry, would you really have sacrificed so much for me?”
“I would have done anything.”
She shook her head. “That would have been unwise, you know.”
“That would have been my decision.”
“But do you not see that at some point I would have disappointed you and you would have been sunk in a life, a career for which you had no true love or interest?”
He smiled faintly. “Do you think I did not consider that a hundredfold?”
“Very well. If you insist on giving me such reasonable answers then I will no longer feel so badly, since I am persuaded my refusing your offer has saved you a lifetime of regret.”
“On that point I daresay we will always disagree.”
The sound of a woman’s voice screaming in anguish from the direction of the house disrupted their tête-a-tête.
“Good God,” he cried. “I do believe that is Hetty!”
By the time they reached the armory, the eldest portion of the family as well as Valmaston had gathered there. The latter was walking away from the scene in the direction of the antechamber opposite. Henry quickly hurried to join Anne, Alice, and Robert, who had gathered about Hetty, who in turn was on the floor trying to collect what appeared to be over a hundred letters. Lady Sandifort stood on the hearth, imperious in her demeanor and expression.
Lucy, feeling she ought to absent herself, joined Valmaston.
“What is going forward?” Lucy asked quietly.
Valmaston drew her into the antechamber and said very quietly, “I do not know precisely what Lady Sandifort has done, or what the nature of the correspondence is, but I can tell you what precipitated this action. Lady Sandifort, I believe, has come to suspect that I have an interest in Miss Sandifort. We had come back from a walk in which we had taken the children to see Mr. Frome and to take him another basket of soup and bread and the like. I had said something that made Hetty, that is Miss Sandifort, laugh, and the next moment Lady Sandifort was standing before us. The tenor of her voice rose two pitches and she began to speak grandly about how charming it was for Hetty to be entertaining one of her guests. She was sarcastic, of course. There was no mistaking the precise state of her temper. She then begged a word with Hetty. I took my leave, as you well may imagine, retiring to the billiard room. A few minutes later, I heard Hetty crying out in a manner that pierced my heart. I have never heard such anguish before. I ran down the stairs and found this.” He waved a hand at the unhappy scene in the armory.
Lucy feared the worst.
Beyond the doorway, she watched as Robert sent Anne and Alice away. The girls did not hesitate but each kissed their elder sister on the cheek and then fled the chamber.
Keeping her voice very low, Lucy said, “I fear she is a very jealous sort and you must by now know that she sees you has her particular property. One of the first days you were here, for instance, you had walked with Hetty and the children toward the maze, then you broke away to go to the stables. Lady Sandifort was watching and she might have set the incident down as innocuous, but unfortunately Hetty turned to look in your direction.”
“She did?”
“Yes, I remember it quite distinctly. Of course it was perfectly innocent, for I must say,” and here she laughed, but continued her whispers, “that Hetty has been quite firm in her convictions that you should not be here. However, Lady Sandifort came to believe that Hetty had an interest in you and she absolutely flew into a rage.”
He scowled playfully upon her. “And you thought I might be charmed by such a vixen?”
Lucy smiled, if faintly. “I had no such notion, as well you know. I only wanted you to distract her so that Anne and Alice might be treated properly through their come-out ball, which leads me to say perhaps you ought to ignore Hetty for the present.”
He turned his attention to the armory once more. Robert was now arguing quietly with Lady Sandifort. Henry was on his knees beside Hetty, helping her to gather up the letters.
Lady Sandifort caught sight of them in the antechamber. To Robert she said in a clear voice, “I meant no harm. I believed it to be a matter about which the entire family ought to be informed in order to encourage our dear Hetty in a more proper direction. Surely you must see that?”
She quit the hearth, brushing past Robert as though his thoughts were completely insignificant, and moved toward Lucy and Valmaston. She carried herself quite triumphantly. “What do you think of that?” she cried. “I had suspected it for some time, and naturally being responsible for this family I did just as I believe my beloved husband would have wished me to. I made it my business to discover the precise nature of the truth.”
Lucy recalled Lady Sandifort saying that she knew a great secret of Hetty’s. It would appear that she had no longer been able to restrain the impulse to expose her. Worse still, it would seem her ladyship had taken extreme measures to support what she already knew.
“You cannot mean . . .” Lucy began.
“Of course. The affair had to be revealed, the sooner the better, and I wanted more substantial proof than the gossip of . . . of old friends. You see, my dear Lord Valmaston, Hetty has been Thomas Woolston’s mistress these many years and more. These are love letters she presses to her bosom.”
They all turned to look at Hetty, who held some of the letters tightly as she wiped at her cheeks. Robert was beside her again and slipped a comforting arm about her shoulders.
“Love letters?” Lucy queried, shocked not only because clearly Hetty had received them from Mr. Woolston, but that Lady Sandifort in turn had apparently thrown them on the floor in front of her.
“Yes, you may read them for yourself if you are in doubt. I f
elt obligated to do so, of course. They are full of confessed love, a steady exchange of quite intimate anecdotes, even a recounting of secret assignations, and all this has been going on for ten or eleven years. Why there must be one hundred and fifty letters, by my count!”
“Are you saying, ma’am, that you discovered the letters?”
She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, in Hetty’s bedchamber. I felt it my duty to expose the truth. In doing so I meant it for a proper lesson for Anne and Alice.” She addressed the earl, saying, “They are my particular charge, you see.”
Lucy seethed with rage. She felt the strongest desire to scratch Lady Sandifort’s eyes out. Her hands balled up into fists. Her breathing came in gulps.
Lord Valmaston glanced askance at Lucy, then cleared his throat. “Well, this is most unfortunate,” he said hastily, addressing Lady Sandifort, all the while moving to stand between Lucy and her ladyship. “But I find I am rather parched. I should dearly love a glass of sherry. Would you care to join me?” He offered his arm.
“With pleasure,” she said, taking his arm firmly. “Do you not think I did right?”
Though Lady Sandifort made as if to walk back into the armory, Valmaston held her in check. “But come, let us not pass through the armory. I find the scene rather . . . tedious, of the moment.”
“Indeed,” Lady Sandifort agreed readily. As they moved away, in the direction of the grand salon, she rattled on, “Poor Hetty! To have been so imprudent! I must say I was completely shocked. But then I am always the last to know such things, but the first I hope to place the blame where it belongs. She was always rather spoiled, though I hate confessing as much, but there it is! My husband, God rest his soul, was not the best of fathers, for he indulged them one and all, which is why—”
To Lucy’s relief, her voice trailed away and she could no longer be heard. Lucy believed she owed Valmaston a great deal for taking her away so pleasantly as he had. She was still completely outraged that Hetty had been exposed so brutally. She knew it would be some time before she would be able to speak congenially with a woman whose friendship had become a critical element in keeping peace at Aldershaw. How she detested the thought, however, of continuing so hateful a ruse.
Moving into the armory, she saw that Robert was speaking quietly to Hetty. She was still on her knees and Robert had taken one of her hands in his. She could not hear what he was saying until she drew close.
“But it is my fault and I am so very sorry. I could have prevented this. I have allowed her to reign when she should not have and this is the result.”
“I have disgraced everyone,” she said, smoothing a tear off her cheek.
“You have disgraced no one, my dear. She is the disgrace.”
Hetty looked up. “Lucy, she accused me of being Thomas’s mistress and I never was. Never.”
Lucy dropped to the floor as well. “We all know that,” she whispered earnestly. “Indeed, we do. Anyone who is acquainted with your character knows as much. On that point, you may rest assured.”
Hetty began sobbing anew. Henry came up behind her and gently relieved her of the letters.
“She went through all of my things. My bedchamber is in shambles. Is there to be nothing held sacred in this house?” she asked.
“I shall have a lock put on your door,” Robert cried. “And she may go to the devil if she does not like it.”
Hetty looked startled. “Robert! I have never heard you speak so severely.”
“No less than she deserves. And from this moment, you have my permission not to pay her the smallest courtesy or respect, for she deserves none of it.”
Hetty stared at him. “She will be very angry.”
“Yes, she will, but from now on she will have to wrestle with me if she is dissatisfied.”
Hetty’s shoulders collapsed once more. “I am so completely mortified, but I loved him, you see.”
“You always did,” Robert said, stroking her hair. “We all knew you were brokenhearted when he wed Miss Rookstone. We all knew you continued to love him. Indeed, whenever he was near, you were like a torch on the darkest night. If I have any feeling at all it is that I never believed him worthy of you. You loved where your love was not valued. His greed, and greed alone, led him to marry a richer woman. Your dowry and the living at Laverstoke would have combined to provide more than most men need in a lifetime, nonetheless each year. That he married, instead, a woman with fifteen thousand pounds bespeaks his character entirely.”
“I should have comprehended his baseness then, but his words were like honey.”
“He never lacked for ability.”
“Robert, why did you not warn me?”
“Because until this moment I only had my suspicions that you held to your love for him. But I want you to know something, which may for the present give you great pain but which I hope will illustrate Mr. Woolston’s true nature.”
Hetty paled. Lucy suspected she knew the truth but did not want to believe it.
“I will say nothing more unless you wish for it,” Robert added wisely.
Hetty nodded her willingness for him to speak.
“Very well. Lady Sandifort took Mr. Woolston as her lover last year.”
Hetty clapped her hand over her mouth but still the gasp that occurred at the same moment filled the chamber. She paled ominously. “Good God,” she whispered. She shook her head, more tears seeped from her eyes, and she began to shake. “When Papa was so ill?”
“I should not have told you,” Robert moaned.
She was silent for a very long time. Finally she said, “No, I am glad you did.”
Lucy addressed her softly. “May I take you to your bedchamber, Hetty?”
She nodded several times in quick, painful succession.
Robert lifted her to her feet. Hetty took her letters from Henry, clutching them tightly.
Lucy held Hetty’s arm the entire distance to her bedchamber. Once within, Hetty sat down on the bed and began to sob, the letters she had been holding falling to the floor.
Lucy did not leave her the rest of the afternoon or the evening. Only when she was assured that the greater part of her grief had been given its full expression did she leave her resting relatively peacefully.
When Lucy at last retired to her bedchamber, she found Robert sitting in a chair by the window waiting for her.
“Will my sister be all right?” he asked.
“Of course,” Lucy responded. “Hetty has a great deal of strength.” She expected him to rise from his seat and take his leave but he did not.
As though reading her mind, he said, “I saw you leave Hetty’s bedchamber and I ordered a tray brought to your room. Nothing to signify, just a few cold meats, salad, and a little wine.”
“Thank you.” Suddenly, she was exhausted. She sat on the edge of the bed. “Did you truly know that she was still in love with Mr. Woolston?”
“As I told her earlier, I had always had my suspicions but it never occurred to me that the blackguard would have sustained her hopes in this manner, encouraging her to keep loving him. What manner of gentleman does something so wretched?”
“I do not believe I would call him a gentleman. Do you remember the walks she would take once each month? Her ‘nature’ walks?”
“Good God! She was meeting him, then?”
“To exchange their letters.”
Robert ground his teeth.
Lucy sighed. “I cannot bear to think of him here at the come-out ball, for he has been invited, you know.”
“The invitation must be rescinded,” he stated sharply, “else I will not be able to account for my actions should I set eyes on him.”
“I shall send a letter, if you like.”
He glanced at her apace. “That is so much like you,” he stated, a sudden frown between his brow. “Why is it you are so good, so willing to fill the breach, to do what it is not your duty to do?”
“How is this not my duty?” she asked. “Hetty is my fri
end and if it is in my power to spare her pain, how is that not an obligation of mine?”
He sighed. “You never cease to amaze me.”
But not sufficiently to declare that you love me when you are sober, she thought. She wished he were not in her bedchamber tormenting her with his presence and his professed admiration of at least this quality of hers.
A maidservant arrived bearing the requested tray and settled it at Lucy’s direction on the bed next to her. Once she was gone, Lucy began to nibble on the meat and celery and to sip the wine. Robert did not speak for a long time, nor did she. Fatigue was settling into her bones now. The only wonder was that Robert did not take her hint and leave.
“I suppose I should go,” he said at last.
“Yes,” she stated, lifting her gaze to his.
“You are still angry that I kissed you while I was foxed.”
She laughed a little hysterically. “No, Robert, of course not. I never regretted any of our kisses. I am angry that your heart is dead to me unless you are foxed.”
He stepped toward her, his complexion heightened. “What does it matter to you the state of my heart, foxed or otherwise?”
She shook her head and sipped her wine. She wanted to say, “It matters to me because I am in love with you.” But she did not feel he deserved to hear the truth. “I suppose it should not matter one whit and to that end I am striving to deaden my own heart. Will that suffice?”
“No, it will not.”
“What do you want of me, Robert? Answer me that. I have told you what you said and what you did three nights past. Beyond that I am unwilling to discuss the matter further because you have made it clear you want none of me.”
He seemed to debate within his mind just what he wanted to say next. Finally he said, “What do you want of me?”
“What difference if your heart is dead to me?”
“You keep speaking in circles.”
“That is because you must earn the right to hear what my heart would say to you.”
Valerie King Page 19