"Thank you. Father."
Fanny cut in with: "Warming-pan's in your bed. There's been mist lately."
I realised that I was receiving an unusually warm welcome. 88 When I went up to my room, I stood at the window looking out to the moor, and was poignantly reminded of Gabriel and Friday. Why had I thought I could forget in Glen House more easily than I could at I slipped into the familiar pattern. There were meals with my father, when we both sought to find a topic for conversation. He did not speak very often of Gabriel, being deter mined, I was sure, not to raise the painful subject. So we were both delighted when those meals were over.
Two weeks after my arrival he went away again and came home melancholy.
I felt I could not endure to live much longer in this house.
I rode and walked and once made my way to the spot where I found Friday and Gabriel, but the memory was now so painful that I decided I would not ride that way again. I must stop thinking of Gabriel and Friday if I were ever to be completely at peace again.
I think it was on that day that I made up my mind to rearrange my life.
I was after all a young widow with some means. I could set up a house, engage a few servants and live a completely different life from that which I had lived with my father or my husband.
I wished that I had some real friend to advise me. If Uncle Dick had been at home I should have been able to confide in him. I had written to him to tell him that I was now a widow, but letters between us would always be inadequate.
I toyed with the idea of taking a sea trip. I might arrange to meet him in some port and tell him all that had happened to me. But even while I was considering this idea a possibility had occurred to me which excited me and made me feel that all the plans which had half formed in my mind would be cast aside if this were indeed true.
I was in an agony of doubt while I told no one of my suspicions.
Several weeks passed and then I visited our doctor.
I shall always remember sitting there in his consulting- room with the sun streaming through and the certainty that the story of my encounter with Gabriel and Friday was not ended, even though they might no longer play their parts in it.
How can I express my emotions? I was about to undergo a wonderful experience.
He was smiling at me, because he knew my story and believed that this was the best possible thing that could happen to me.
" There is no doubt," he told me. " You are going to have a child."
All the rest of that day I hugged my secret to myself. My own child!
I was impatient with the months of gestation which must ensue: I wanted my child . now.
My whole life was changed. I no longer brooded on the past. I believed that this was the consolation which Gabriel was giving me, and that nothing had been in vain.
It was when I was alone in my room that I remembered that, as this was Gabriel's child as well as mine, if it were a boy he would be the heir to Kirkland Revels.
Never mind, I told myself. There is no need for him to look at that inheritance. I have enough to give him. The Rockwells need never know that he is bora. Let Luke take everything. What did I care?
But the thought tormented me. I did care. If I had a son I was going to call him Gabriel, and everything that I could give him must be his.
Next day during luncheon I told my father the news. He was startled, and then I saw the colour come to his face so that it was pale pink--with pleasure, I believed.
" You are happier now," he said. " God bless you. This is the best thing that could happen to you."
I had never known him so talkative. He said that I must inform the Rockwell family immediately. He knew of the precarious state of Sir Matthew's health and I guessed he thought it would be awkward if Luke inherited his grandfather's title when it should really belong to my unborn son--if it was a son I carried.
I caught his excitement, and I went at once to my room and wrote to Ruth.
It was not an easy letter to write because Ruth had never been very friendly towards me and I could well imagine the consternation the news would cause her.
My letter was stilted but it was the best I could do.
Dear Ruth, I am writing to tell you that I am going to have a child.
My doctor has just assured me that there is no doubt of this, and I thought I should let the family know that there will shortly be a new member of it.
I hope Sir Matthew has recovered from his attack. 90 I am sure he will be delighted to hear that there is a possibility of his having another grandchild.
I am in excellent health and I hope you are the same. I send my very best wishes to all.
Your sister-in-law, Catherine Rockwell
Ruth's reply came within two days.
Dear Catherine, We are surprised and delighted by your news. Sir Matthew says that you must come at once to the Revels because it is unthinkable that his grandchild should be born anywhere but here.
Please do not refuse his request that you should do so. He will be most unhappy if you do; and it is an old . tradition with us that our children should be born in the house.
Please let me know by return when I may expect you. I will have everything ready for you.
Your sister-in-law, Ruth
There was also a letter from Sir Matthew. The handwriting was a little shaky but the welcome was indeed warm. He had missed me, he said; and there was nothing which could have delighted him more at this sad time than my news. 1 must not disappoint him. I must come back to Kirkland Revels. I knew he was right. I had to go back. ^
Ruth and Luke drove to Keighley Station to meet me.
They greeted me with outward pleasure, but I was not at all sure that they were pleased to see me. Ruth was serene, but Luke, I thought, had lost a little of his breeziness. How did it feel, I wondered, to think yourself heir to something you must always have coveted, only to find that an intruder might be on the way? It depended, of course, on how strong was your covetousness.
Ruth made solicitous inquiries about my health while we drove to the house. I was filled with emotion as we left the moors and came to the old bridge, as I caught a glimpse of the Abbey ruins and the Revels itself. 91 We alighted and went through the portico, and I felt that the faces of the devils looker smug and evil, as though they were saying to me: Did you think you had escaped us?
But I felt strong as I entered the house. I had someone to love, to protect, and because of that someone the emptiness had gone from life and I was ready to be happy again.
When I entered the house Matthew and Sarah were waiting for me. They both embraced me and handled me with such care that I might have been a piece of porcelain ; which made me smile.
" I don't break, you know," I said, and that started everything on the right note.
" Your news ... your wonderful news!" murmured Sarah, wiping her eyes, although I saw no tears.
" This means so much to us all," Sir Matthew told me " It is a great consolation."
" We've been telling her that," Ruth put in. " Haven't we, Luke?"
Luke smiled with a return of his camaraderie. " Have we, Catherine?" he asked.
I avoided answering by smiling at him.
" I expect Catherine is tired and would like to go to her room," said Ruth. " Shall I have tea sent up, Catherine?"
" That would be nice."
" Luke, ring for one of the maids. Come along, Catherine Your trunk has already gone up."
Sir Matthew and Sarah followed Ruth and myself up the stairs.
" I've put you on the first floor of the south wing," Ruth explained.
" You won't want too many stairs, and this is a very pleasant room."
" If you don't like it," Sir Matthew said hurriedly, " you must tell us, my dear."
" How kind you are!" I murmured.
" You could come near me." Sarah's voice was high pitched with excitement. " That would be very nice ... very nice indeed."
" I think the room I have chosen will
be most suitable." said Ruth.
We passed the minstrels' gallery and went up the staircase to the first floor. We then went along a short corridor in which were two doors. Ruth opened the second of these to disclose my room.
It was an almost exact replica of that which I had shared with Gabriel, even to the powder closet, and I saw from the windows, which gave me a view of the lawns and of the Abbey, that it was in a similar position although two floors below.
" It is very pleasant," I said; I looked at the decorated ceiling from which cherubs, encircling the chandelier in the centre, looked down upon me. My bed was a four-poster as were almost all in the house, I believed; there were blue silk curtains about it, and these matched those of blue damask at the windows. My carpet was blue. There was an enormous fireplace, a wardrobe and several chairs besides an oak chest over which hung a brass warming-pan. There was a red glow in the highly polished brass which came from a bowl of red roses, put there I guessed by Ruth.
I smiled at her. " Thank you," I said.
She inclined her head in acknowledgement, but I could not help wondering whether she was really pleased to see me or would have been happier if, when I had left the Revels, I had" gone out of her life for ever. I was sure her welcome could not be wholehearted because of what the birth of a son to me would mean to Luke. She adored Luke, I was fully aware of that; and now that I was to be a mother myself I understood how ambitious one could become on one's children's behalf, and I felt no resentment against Ruth even if she did towards me.
" This should be convenient for you," she went on quickly.
" It is kind of you to take so much trouble."
Sir Matthew was beaming at me. " You are going to be put to a lot of trouble for us," he told me. " We are delighted ... delighted. I've told Deverel Smith he's got to keep me alive by hook or by crook by potions or spells to see my new grandson."
"You have determined on the sex."
" Of course I have, my dear. Haven't a doubt of it. You were meant to be the mother of boys."
"I want you to come and see my tapestries, Hagar, my dear," murmured Sarah. " You will, won't you? Ill show you the cradle. All Rockwells use that cradle."
" It will have to be overhauled within the next months." 93 Ruth put in practically. " And this is Catherine, Aunt Sarah."
" Of course it's Catherine," said Aunt Sarah indignantly. " We're good friends. She so liked my tapestry."
" I expect she would like to rest now."
" We must not tire her," agreed Sir Matthew.
Ruth nodded towards Aunt Sarah significantly, and Sir Matthew took his sister's arm.
" We shall be able to talk to her when she is rested," he said; and, smiling once more at me, he led his sister away.
Ruth sighed as the door shut on them. " I'm afraid she's becoming rather a trial. Her memory's so up and down. Sometimes she'll reel off all the dates of our births without an effort. It seems absurd that she can't remember to which of us she's talking."
" I suppose that happens when one grows older."
" I hope I escape that. There's a saying, Those whom the gods love die young." Sometimes I think it's true. "
I immediately thought of Gabriel. Was he loved by the gods? I did not think so.
" Please don't talk of dying," I said.
" I'm sorry. How silly of me. That tea should be along soon. I expect you need it, don't you?"
" It will be refreshing."
She went to the bowl of roses and began rearranging them.
" They remind me ..." I began; and she looked at me interrogatively, so I had to go on. "... of those you put in the room when I first arrived here."
" Oh ... I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me I suppose." I guessed she was thinking that they would have to be careful in future, that when a tragedy had happened it was necessary to be very tactful to avoid bringing back memories.
One of the maids came in with the tea; she bobbed a curtsy to me and I said, " Good afternoon, Mary Jane
Mary-Jane set the tea down on a table by the window and I thanked her.
" Mary-Jane will be your personal maid," Ruth said. " She will answer your bell."
I was pleased. Mary-Jane was a rather tall, fresh-faced young woman who I was sure would be honest and conscientious. Because I showed my pleasure she allowed me to see hers, and I believed I had a friend in the house.
Ruth went over to the tray. " She has brought two cups," she said. "
Shall I join you?" 94 "Please do."
" Then you sit down, and I'll bring yours to you."
I took the chair near the bed because I did not wish ai this moment, to look out of the window. I kept thinking of Gabriel and telling myself that anyone looking out of this window at the time of his accident would have seen him falling.
Ruth handed me the cup of tea; then she brought a foot stool and made me rest my feet.
" We're going to watch over you," she said, " all of us."
But I thought how cold her eyes were and that the note of friendship in her voice seemed forced.
Here I gol I thought. No sooner do I come to this house than my fancies grow.
"We are going to watch over you." lt could be ambiguous.
She went to the table by the window and sat down there. She talked of what had been happening during my absence. Sir Matthew had recovered from his attack, but he was getting too old for attacks nowadays, and Deverel Smith was worried. " Last week," she said, " he stayed all night. He's so good. He gives himself to his patients quite selflessly. There was no need for him to stay. We could have called him. But tie insisted."
" Some doctors are very noble," I agreed.
" Poor Deverel, I don't think his home life is very happy."
" Really? I know little about his family."
" Damaris is the only child. Mrs. Smith must be a great trial to him.
She is supposed to be an invalid. I would call tier a hypochondriac.
I imagine she indulges in illness as a way of attracting attention to herself. "
" Does she never go out?"
" Rarely. She is supposed to be too ill. I imagine that the doctor has made his profession his whole life because of the state of his domestic affairs. Of course he dotes on Damaris."
" She is so very beautiful. Is her mother like her?"
" There is a resemblance, but Muriel was never half as beautiful as her daughter."
" If she were half as beautiful she would be extremely attractive."
"Yes, indeed. I'm so sorry for Damaris. I planned to give a ball for her, and for Luke too. But of course now that we are in mourning that is out of the question ... for this year at least.
" She is fortunate to have such a good friend in you." ^ " We are fortunate to have such a good doctor. Would you care for more tea?"
" No, thank you. I have had enough."
" I expect you want to unpack. Would you care for me to send Mary-Jane along to help you?"
I hesitated. Then I said I would; and she went out and shortly afterwards Mary-Jane appeared with another of the maids who took the tea-tray away, leaving Mary-Jane with me.
I watched Mary-Jane kneeling by my trunk taking out my clothes.
" I shall have to buy some new clothes soon," I said. " These will not fit me."
Mary-Jane smiled. " Yes, madam," she said.
She was about my height and it occurred to me that she might like some of my clothes when I grew too large for them. I would give them to her.
" You look pleased, Mary Jane
" It's t'news, madam. And I'm right glad to see you back."
There was no doubt of her sincerity, and it made me happy.
The house was beginning to have an odd effect on me;
I had only been in it an hour or so and I was already looking round for friends . and enemies.
" It'll be a long time to wait," I said.
" Yes, madam. My sister's expecting. Hers will be born in five months' time. We're hoping for a
boy ... though if it's a girl, reckon we won't fret about that."
" Your sister, Mary-Jane? So you have a family."
" Oh yes, madam. Etty's husband works up at Kelly Grange, and they've a fine cottage on testate. At t'lodge, madam, and all their firewood free. It's her first.... I get down to see her when I can."
"I'm sure you do. You must let me know how she gets on. We have something in common, Mary Jane
She smiled. " Time was, our Etty got terrible scared. The first .. that's what it is. But they both was scared. Jim as well. First she's scared she's going to die; then she wonders whether the baby's going to be a wreck ling Yes, scared our Ett was, that when t'baby was born it 'ud be short of something. But Jim asked the doctor to see her and he put her right. He was wonderful to her. He's a wonderful man .
Victoria Holt - Kirkland Revels Page 12