A Mother's Secret

by Dilly Court

  Belinda shook her head. ‘No, thank you, but I would like a nice hot cup of tea.’

  ‘You have such plebeian tastes,’ Flora said with a shudder. She put the stopper back in the flask and closed her eyes. ‘Don’t speak to me until we are north of the river and closer to home. All this gallivanting about in the middle of the night is not for me.’

  Belinda settled down in the corner of the carriage and they travelled on in silence for what seemed to her like an eternity. She was cold, cramped and exhausted both physically and mentally. They had laid Geoffrey to rest and that part of her life was well and truly over. Who knew what the future would bring.

  On returning to Duke Street the door was opened by Harris, the footman whose set expression revealed neither surprise nor curiosity. Alastair saw them into the house, bidding them a reluctant farewell as he announced that he was due to leave for Egypt the following day, or as Flora pointed out irritably later that morning as it was well past midnight. Belinda stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek, thanking him once again for his kindness. He raised his hand to touch the place where her lips had come in contact with his skin and she was vaguely surprised to see that a blush had reddened his face. She had not given a thought to the fact that Alastair’s concern for her welfare might have been fuelled by a boyish crush, but she was tired and emotionally drained. No doubt he would recover soon enough when a younger and prettier face took his fancy.

  He backed out of the door, lingering on the top step only to have Harris close it firmly in his face. Belinda turned away with a sigh and was about to make her way to the staircase when she realised that Flora had come to a sudden halt outside the dining room. The sound of men’s deep voices and drunken laughter were punctuated by female screeches and giggles, which grew louder as the door opened and a man tottered out of the room. Ignoring Flora, he staggered crabwise across the floor calling loudly for his hat and cane.

  Harris moved swiftly to guide him out of the house, slapping the top hat on the drunken man’s head and thrusting the cane into his hand. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am,’ he muttered, eyeing Flora nervously. ‘The master is still entertaining his friends.’

  ‘We’ll see about that,’ Flora snapped, thrusting the door open again. She recoiled as a waft of cigar smoke enveloped her in a foggy cloud. ‘Gentlemen, I think it’s high time you went home.’

  There was a stunned silence and Belinda glanced anxiously at Harris. He raised his eyebrows, saying nothing, but she could tell from the way he clenched his fists that he was expecting trouble. She moved to stand beside Flora, and peering into the smoky dining room she was horrified to witness a scene of utter chaos and depravity. Leonardo was sprawled in his chair at the head of the table, which was scattered with bruised fruit and nuts lying in pools of wine that dripped like blood onto the floor. A woman was dancing on the table, exposing a great deal of bosom and bare legs. Several other females all equally scantily clad were either sitting on the guests’ laps or standing in provocative poses around the room.

  ‘This is a disgrace,’ Flora said angrily. ‘I won’t have my home treated like a common bordello.’

  Leonardo rose from his seat. ‘It’s my home, cara mia. You are my wife and everything belongs to me, including you. So go to bed like a good little English lady and leave the gentlemen to their pleasures.’ He stubbed his cigar out on a plate, making a point of grinding it until it crumpled into shreds. His lips were smiling but the look in his eyes made Belinda shiver.

  ‘Come away, Flora,’ she said, catching her by the sleeve. ‘Leave them to their silly games.’

  Flora seemed to freeze. She looked around the assembled group of men, some of whom had red wine spilt on their ruffled shirt fronts, which made them look as though they were bleeding from stab wounds. Others who were lolling in their chairs, fondling the semi-naked women, were obviously too drunk to stand up. Flora seemed to be rooted to the spot, and Belinda’s attempts to drag her from the scene met with failure.

  ‘This is intolerable,’ Flora said, controlling her erratic breathing with obvious difficulty. ‘You are behaving like animals.’

  Someone baaed like a sheep and another man made an attempt at neighing like a horse but only succeeded in having a choking fit.

  ‘Go to bed, Flora,’ Leonardo hissed, his mask slipping to reveal the anger beneath his smile. ‘I will deal with you later.’

  ‘Yes, Flora,’ Belinda insisted. ‘Please come away.’

  Reluctantly, Flora allowed herself to be led from the room and someone slammed the door.

  ‘Is there anything I can do, ma’am?’ Harris asked nervously.

  ‘You can throw those drunken sots out of my house,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m a broad-minded woman and I enjoy parties, but my husband has gone beyond the limits of decency and I won’t have it. I simply won’t stand for it.’

  ‘I’m under orders to remain at my post, ma’am,’ Harris muttered, shame-faced but obdurate.

  ‘Please go to your room, Flora,’ Belinda urged gently. ‘This can all be sorted out in the morning.’

  ‘It is the morning, you little idiot,’ Flora snapped. ‘I will have this out with that Italian gigolo once and for all.’ She made as if to return to the dining room, but Belinda caught her by the arm.

  ‘No, don’t. They’re drunk and beyond reasoning. Get some sleep, and perhaps Leonardo will be more amenable in the morning.’

  Flora subsided and seemed to shrink in stature. ‘You’re right, of course. But I won’t stand for this. Leonardo must learn that he cannot treat me this way.’

  ‘Of course,’ Belinda said, leading her towards the stairs. ‘And I’m sure when he sobers up he will be thoroughly ashamed of himself.’

  With a peremptory nod of her head, Flora ascended the staircase. Watching her, Belinda thought sadly that her sister-in-law seemed to have aged ten years after that unpleasant encounter. She might be well past sixty, but Flora Montessori was still a handsome woman and one of great spirit, even if some of her actions were misguided at times. Belinda followed her more slowly up the wide staircase as a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She was too tired to think and it was an effort to put one foot in front of the other, but somehow she managed to get to her room and as she opened the door she breathed in the lingering aroma of her favourite French perfume. The mixed scents of tuberose, frangipani and jasmine were sweet and pure compared to the stench of corruption that had assailed her nostrils when faced with the apparent orgy in the dining room. She smiled as she saw her nightgown laid out on her bed and the covers pulled down. A fire had been lit in the grate and carefully banked up so that it still glowed with a warm welcome. She knew that she had Cassy to thank for all this and she looked into the dressing room to make sure that her daughter had gone to bed and not attempted to wait up for her. Cassy’s dark head lay on her pillow and her thick eyelashes formed black crescents on her cheeks. She looked younger in sleep and as innocent as a damask rose. Belinda’s heart swelled with love for her child who was growing rapidly to womanhood. She tiptoed over to the truckle bed and leaned over to drop the lightest of kisses on Cassy’s forehead.

  If only she could reveal her true identity to her. The temptation was ever present but the consequences of such a selfish act would have involved admitting her youthful indiscretion to Geoffrey. To acknowledge an illegitimate child publicly, especially one of mixed blood, would have created a scandal, and the possible loss of his position in the Foreign Office. Even worse, Cassandra would bear the label of illegitimacy for the rest of her life and her chances of a good marriage would have been ruined. As it was, her prospects in that direction were little better. It was almost impossible for a maidservant, even one with a good education, to marry above her station in life. Even so, Belinda had always hoped that a respectable match could be arranged and that one day she would see her precious daughter cared for and protected by a good man who loved her for herself and not for her lineage or fortune. What would happen now was something that she could no
t begin to consider. Bankruptcy and ruin were staring her in the face, but she would not think about that now. Her tired brain could not cope with matters of such import.

  Belinda slipped off her mourning gown, allowing it to fall to the floor unheeded, and was struggling with the laces on her stays when suddenly the door flew open. Uttering a cry of fright, she snatched at the silk robe which Cassy had laid out for her, but Leonardo was at her side in an instant and plucked it from her hands.

  ‘Don’t cover yourself, cara mia. Such lovely flesh should be seen and enjoyed by a man who can give you what you want.’

  She attempted to push him away but he was strong and he was drunk. ‘Let me go.’

  ‘I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,’ he said, nuzzling her neck while he fumbled with the laces on her stays. ‘Such a young and beautiful body should belong to a man who appreciates it, not an old fool like Geoffrey.’

  Struggling and kicking out with her feet, Belinda was close to panicking. ‘Don’t say such things. Let me go at once or I’ll tell Flora.’

  ‘I’ll tell her myself.’

  He raised his head to look into her eyes, and she was appalled and terrified by the naked lust in their dark depths. Her stays fell to the floor and he ripped her shift, exposing her naked body with a grunt of satisfaction. He lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed, tossing her onto the coverlet and throwing himself on top of her. Belinda opened her mouth and screamed but her cries were stifled by his kiss, his tongue probing her mouth and his hands raking her flesh.

  ‘No. Stop. Get off her.’

  The sound of Cassy’s shrill voice caused Leonardo to raise his head, although Belinda could not move for the weight of his body pinning her to the bed. ‘Get out,’ he roared.

  Cassy threw herself on him, her fingers clawed. ‘Get off her, I said. Leave her alone.’

  Leonardo took a swipe at her, but he was in no position to fight and too drunk to aim well. The punch landed on the pillow beside Belinda’s head. Seizing her opportunity she bit the soft flesh of his forearm, causing him to cry out in pain and rage. He struggled to his knees but a clout on the jaw from Cassy caught him off guard and he fell backwards onto the floor, shouting what were obviously obscenities in Italian. Belinda could not understand the words, but their meaning was abundantly clear. Raising himself swiftly Leonardo lashed out at Cassy, striking a blow that sent her tumbling to the floor.

  Incensed and forgetting her state of undress, Belinda leapt off the bed. ‘Cassy, are you all right?’

  Cassy lay for a moment, staring dazedly up at the ceiling. ‘I think so,’ she murmured, attempting to sit up.

  Belinda snatched her robe from the floor and slipped it on. She knelt at Cassy’s side. ‘Are you sure?’

  Leonardo slithered off the bed, standing up and adjusting his clothing. ‘Send her away. I haven’t finished with you, Belle.’

  ‘Get out,’ Belinda snapped. ‘Leave my room immediately.’

  ‘I’m the master here,’ he said, advancing slowly towards them. ‘I do as I please in my house.’

  ‘It’s Flora’s house,’ Belinda cried furiously, wrapping her arms around her daughter who was trembling from head to foot. ‘You are a gigolo, you bastard.’

  ‘She is the bastard,’ Leonardo said, pointing to Cassy. ‘Your little half-caste pet is someone’s bastard. I’ve often wondered why you favour her as you do. She can’t be Geoffrey’s by-blow, so where does that leave you, Belle?’

  ‘Leonardo. What is going on? I could hear the noise from my room.’ Flora stood in the doorway, her face deathly pale in the lamplight.

  ‘He tried to rape me,’ Belinda said through clenched teeth. ‘This man, your husband, attacked me and he hurt Cassy when she came to my aid.’

  ‘Take no notice of her, cara mia,’ Leonard said smoothly. ‘She tried to seduce me. She has lost her protector and now she looks for another.’

  ‘You bastard,’ Flora hissed. ‘You’re a liar.’

  Leonardo shrugged his shoulders. His eyes narrowed and were filled with malice. ‘I am not the bastard here. You think that your sister-in-law is as pure as the driven snow. I think she is the mother of that child she holds so dear. If you have any doubts, ask Belle who fathered the little chi-chi.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cassy felt her knees buckle beneath her as she sank to the floor. She bent her head, unable to believe the vicious accusation she had just heard levied at her adored mistress. She would have gladly given her life to save Lady Davenport, but she had never for a moment thought that she might be the woman who had abandoned her so many years ago. She had mourned for Mahdu’s loss, thinking of her always as her birth mother, but the cruel words of a drunken man had turned her fragile world upside down. She bowed her head, covering her face with her hands. ‘Stop. Don’t say any more.’ She rocked to and fro, shutting her ears to the angry voices raging above her head. Then there was silence and she felt herself wrapped in a tender embrace. The soft sound of Lady Davenport’s voice soothed her like a barely remembered lullaby, although for a moment her words made no sense at all.

  Belinda gave her a gentle hug. ‘Cassy, my darling child. It is all true. I cannot live a lie a moment longer. I am your mother, and giving you up was the cruellest blow. It almost killed me and it’s been a cross I have had to bear all these long years.’

  ‘Belle, what are you saying?’ Flora said angrily. ‘Have you gone mad? Has this devil made you lose your mind?’

  ‘I won’t listen to any more of this nonsense.’ Leonardo spat the words at them as he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Belinda helped Cassy to her feet. ‘I am not mad. I’m doing now what I should have done fifteen years ago. I was a coward then but I’ve paid for it with my heart’s blood.’

  ‘I don’t understand, my lady,’ Cassy murmured dazedly. ‘Tell me the truth, I beg you.’

  Belinda sank down onto the bed, tears coursing down her cheeks. ‘It is a secret I have borne all this time. The pain has eaten into my heart until it is little more than a husk.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake stop this pathetic drivel and come to the point,’ Flora said impatiently. ‘I can scarcely believe that the saintly Belinda would have given birth to a child out of wedlock.’

  ‘I was young and very much in love with Cassy’s father.’

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Cassy whispered. ‘There must be some mistake. I thought Mahdu was my mother.’

  ‘She loved you dearly,’ Belinda said, dashing the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘But you are my child, and your father was a gallant soldier, killed in action on the North-West Frontier.’

  Flora shot her a speculative glance. ‘So why did you marry Geoffrey? If you’d kept the matter quiet and given the baby to a childless couple, you could have taken your pick of young officers.’

  A wry smile curved Belinda’s lips. ‘As soon as he discovered the truth, my father arranged the match, and I had little choice but to follow his wishes. To be perfectly honest, Flora, I didn’t care if I lived or died, but I had my baby to think about. I knew that I couldn’t keep Cassy with me, but I simply had to be in a position to pay for her upbringing. I needed to keep her as close to me as possible.’

  ‘And Mahdu helped you,’ Cassy whispered. ‘That’s why I thought she was my mother.’

  ‘And the child’s father was an Indian,’ Flora said, nodding her head. ‘I can see your problem, Belle.’

  Belinda winced as though the words hit her like a slap in the face. ‘He was handsome, brave and charming and I loved him with all my being, just as I love you, Cassy.’

  ‘You could have told me before,’ Cassy murmured. ‘I wouldn’t have asked you for anything, ma’am. I would have served you all my life and wanted nothing more.’

  ‘I couldn’t tell you before, my darling. If the truth had come out while Geoffrey was alive, the scandal would have ruined us all. The only way in which I could support you and make
sure that you were cared for was to conceal your true identity. Can you ever forgive me?’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this sentimental twaddle,’ Flora said, throwing up her hands. ‘Your youthful indiscretions are past history, Belle. I’m going to bed. Tomorrow, or rather later on today, I’m going to have stern words to say to that Italian weasel who calls himself a husband.’ She stormed out of the room, leaving the door to swing on its hinges.

  Belinda wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. ‘We will never be parted again, my darling girl. I don’t know what the future holds for us but we’ll face it together this time.’

  Cassy threw her arms around her mother’s neck. ‘I’m the happiest girl in the world. Nothing matters to me now, my lady.’

  ‘Mother,’ Belinda corrected, smiling through her tears. ‘I want you to call me Mama from now on. I want everyone to know that you are my own dear daughter.’

  Cassy stifled a giggle. ‘Bailey will laugh when he hears the news, and so will Ollie.’

  ‘I’d almost forgotten Oliver,’ Belinda said, frowning. ‘I wonder how he will take this piece of news. Poor boy, he has lost his father and his home. He will inherit nothing but debts and disgrace.’ She ruffled Cassy’s hair with an affectionate hand. ‘Get some sleep, dearest. Tomorrow we will need to make plans for our future. It’s plain that we cannot remain here.’

  Next morning, despite only having had a few hours’ sleep, Cassy awakened feeling refreshed and filled with energy. At first she thought she had dreamt the whole thing, but when she raised herself from her cot in the dressing room and went into the main bedchamber, the events of the previous night came flooding back to her in minute detail. The bedclothes were still tumbled from the struggle that ensued when Leonardo had forced himself on Belinda. There were garments spread about the floor like fallen leaves in autumn, and an upturned chair which she righted as she made her way to stand at the foot of the bed. She gazed at the sleeping woman she now knew to be her mother with a feeling of awe and disbelief. With her golden hair spread about her head like angel’s wings, Belinda looked young and innocent: a snowdrop of a girl, unsullied and untouched by grief or passion.