“I don’t understand. Unless—I say, James, you have not gone and taken advantage of the poor girl, have you?”
“Most assuredly not. The blighter was not I. Look, Percy, I cannot explain it now, but it is quite an amazing story, and I feel I should have Gladys’s approval before sharing it with you. How would it be if I meet you tomorrow at the club around two? We can talk about it then.”
Percy agreed, and after he left, James told Gladys about their conversation and asked if she would mind if he told Percy her story.
At first, Gladys was angry. She also thought it would be foolish of James to admit that he wasn’t the father of her unborn baby, but then she decided it might just help Percy to forgive her if he knew why she allowed Toughie to get her in the family way.
She needn’t have worried. When Percy learned of the hardships she had endured and of her escape and accomplishments thereafter, he was as astounded as James had been. “It’s all so unbelievably romantic! By Jove, James, it even makes some of Dickens’s stories appear mundane. To think that such a talented and gracious creature as our Gladys could come from such a place is mindboggling. She is absolutely amazing. I can see why you are determined to help her, old boy, but marrying her when she is so in love with another chap. Wasn’t that a bit rash?” Percy asked.
“I know it looks that way, but the marriage is merely one of convenience. I am not interested in any other kind, and neither is she. The thing is, I seldom hear from that boy of mine, not that I blame him. I was not a very attentive father. Too busy building up my business, I suppose. He’s done very well for himself, you know, dealing in gems of all things. Anyway, as you must have surmised, Gladys has become a very dear friend to me, as has young Dolly, and because I enjoy their company, this arrangement will be beneficial to us all. But I must warn you, Percy. Gladys, you, and I, must be the only ones to know that the child is not mine. Do you understand?”
Percy was delighted to be part of their conspiracy and felt it would bring the three of them even closer. Gladys now seemed to have a certain intrigue and fascination that all the other women he had known lacked. After all, how many women did he know who would have the courage to commit murder if threatened? In spite of her pluck, there was also a sense of vulnerability to her character that he hadn’t noticed before, and he began treating her with as much concern and dependability as did James.
Chapter Fourteen
James suggested to Gladys that their marriage would appear more indubitable if they began attending church every Sunday. The first Sunday they joined St Andrew’s congregation, Lionel Buttershy, the choirmaster, heard Gladys singing and was determined to have her in his choir. Gladys missed singing with her fellow choristers in St Mary’s church choir in Dover, so when Lionel asked her if she would join his choir, she said she would be pleased to. She soon became very fond of Lionel and admired his many musical talents. As well as being an excellent choir master, he was adept at playing the organ, the violin, and the harp.
When Gladys told Dolly she was going to have a baby sister or brother, Dolly was delighted and said, “I shall be able to read her all of father’s books—the same stories that Gamby read to me.”
“You sound very sure that it will be girl.”
“Not really, Mama. I shall be happy with either, but if it is a girl, I know she will have a jolly good time as soon as she is old enough to play with my dollhouse.”
Gladys suddenly realized how proper Dolly’s diction had become, and she credited it to James’s influence, but for some reason it seemed a little too proper to suit her.
James had no trouble being true to his word. Although Gladys was a beautiful woman, he never felt attracted to her in a sexual way. Except for Percy, all his friends at the men’s club who had seen her were envious and often remarked about his good fortune. Some were even brazen enough to inquire what it was like to bed such a young beauty. Instead of resenting the remarks, James rather enjoyed them and would often add fuel to their imaginations with a sly grin and a wink.
Seven months after her marriage to James, Gladys gave birth to a five-pound, dark-haired, bright-eyed, little boy. Because of his size, it was easy to pass his birth date off as premature, but it wasn’t so easy to convince some people that his dark complexion could be accredited to Gladys’s maternal grandmother, who she declared was Italian.
Gossip and speculations were enjoyed by all who knew the Hornsbys, including their servants, in spite of their fondness for Gladys. Because neither parent showed the slightest sign of guilt or embarrassment, it soon took the flavour out of even the juiciest rumours, and they were soon forgotten.
Out of respect, Gladys named the boy Edward, because it was James’s middle name. There was no doubt the baby resembled his father, but, fortunately, no one in Sandwich knew who that was. Gladys’s heart burst with love and joy every time she looked at the small replica of her true love. She could hardly bear to be apart from him for any length of time, but since she had promised James she would be a good wife, she agreed to hire a nanny in order to spend more time socializing.
Soon after Edward was born, Mary and Tina came to visit bringing lovely gifts for both the baby and Gladys. Gladys’s face lit up with pride when they went on about how they had never seen a prettier baby, and, since she had no idea of what Mary was thinking, she was sorry to see them leave.
No sooner were they out the door and into their carriage when Mary burst out with accusations. “If that baby is James’s, I am the Duchess of Kent. And if he was premature, I am the Duke!”
Tina, trying to deny that she was having similar thoughts, replied, “Oh, Mary, surely you do not believe Gladys could be guilty of such a thing. Do you?”
“I certainly do! I know I am right, and if you are honest, you have to admit that you think so too.”
“But there are no other men around Gladys, except Percy, and the baby looks even less like him.”
“Well, there has to be someone else.” They had both come in Mary’s chaise, and for a time, no one spoke. Then suddenly Mary pulled on the reins and stopped the horse.
She clapped her hands and said, “I have it. Do you remember that time last year when we sent a message to James asking him if we might borrow Gladys to play for our Christmas charity tea for St Andrew’s orphanage?”
“That was last year and besides, Gladys was unable to be there, so I cannot see what that has that to do with the baby.”
“The reason she couldn’t come was because she was in London. Now what month was that?”
“You know very well what month it was. It always takes place on the fifth of December.”
“And Edward was born in September.”
Tina counted out the months on her gloved fingers aloud. “My heavens, you don’t suppose she had a lover in London?” Mary nodded her head. “But if she had and he is the father, why would she marry James?”
“I have no idea. Perhaps her lover was a married man, so she had to trap James into marrying her. I warrant he has no idea that he’s not the father. Damn her!”
“Now, Mary, you don’t know for certain that is what happened. Edward could be a premature baby.”
“You saw him. He is far too healthy for a seven-month-old baby. Does he look like James’s son to you?”
“His complexion is quite dark, but then Gladys did say he resembles her mother’s side of the family. Evidently her maternal grandmother is Italian and is alive and living in America, so perhaps we are letting our imaginations run away with us.”
“I doubt it. Poor James. Any woman who would stoop low enough to trick a man into a marriage is capable of anything. We had better keep an eye on her for James’s sake.”
“That doesn’t sound like you, Mary. I am sorry to say this, dear, but I think jealousy has a lot to do with your assumptions.”
“I won’t deny that I thought James might ask me to marry him in
time, so naturally I was hurt when he married Gladys, but I had begun to accept it until I saw that baby. I have no idea how she managed to do it, but somehow she has seduced him and led him to believe he was going to be a father. I say again, damn her!”
Mary wasn’t the only one who had doubts. Every time Gladys took Edward to town, people made a fuss over him and were very polite to Gladys, but as soon as her back was turned they hurried to find someone they could gossip with. If Gladys had let them see that their gossip bothered her, it would have gone on for much longer, but she knew how to handle gossip. She held her head high and was especially nice to those who were the worst perpetrators.
Tina and Mary didn’t voice their doubts in front of Gladys, but James’s aunt did. Edward was in his bassinet when Jean first saw him. As she bent over the bassinet, Gladys said, “Edward, this is your Auntie Jean. Can you give her a smile?”
Jean did no more than glance at the baby before looking up at Gladys and, as though she was out of breath, gasped, “You wicked, wicked girl.”
Before Gladys could reply, Jean stormed out of the room.
Gladys was shocked. She had begun to really like the woman and hoped to become close to her, but her attitude toward Eddy was downright rude. Surprisingly, the thought that the woman was able to tell that James was not Eddy’s father never entered her mind. She was so angry she decided to find Jean and confront her.
When she knocked at Jean’s door, she had to wait a few seconds before being told to come in. Gladys’s anger faded when she saw that the woman had been crying. She sat down on the bed beside her, but Jean pushed her away and got up. “Don’t touch me.”
“Why, Aunt Jean? What did I do?”
“And do not call me Aunt Jean. How simple do you think I am?”
“I don’t understand. What it is that I have done?”
“What have you done? You have fooled my nephew into thinking that child is his. Well, you Jezebel, you shan’t get away with it. I shall tell James what a fool you have made of him. And we shall see what the law can do about it. Now get out of my room or I vow I shall scream.”
Gladys knew it was no good talking to her, so she left and went to look for James. She found him in the stable. “James, your aunt has guessed that Edward is not your son. She refuses to listen to me, so I think you should tell her everything. I don’t know what else we can do.”
James ordered a pot of tea sent up to his aunt’s room and went up to see her. Gladys was his wife now, and she was there to stay; so he decided to take her advice and tell his aunt the whole story. He had made up his mind that if she refused to accept Gladys as one of the family, then she wouldn’t be welcome in their home. Jean listened attentively, and when he was done, she shook her head sadly and said that she thought he had made a terrible mistake.
“Auntie, do you recall what a recluse I was until Gladys came to live here? I had no friends and Four Oaks was a gloomy place. Now it is a different place altogether. And for that matter, Auntie, even you look ten years younger, and I know Gladys had a lot to do with that. She made a terrible mistake, I grant you, but she is a good person and an excellent wife. Will you please give her a chance?”
Jean was too upset to answer, but she nodded her head affirmatively.
Although she was cool with Gladys for a time, she couldn’t help but admit that Eddy was an exceptionally pretty child. She only stayed a few more days, but before she left she told Gladys that she wasn’t angry with her and would return soon.
Dolly loved her little brother and wanted to help with his care, but she had little opportunity. Gladys insisted on doing everything for the baby herself whenever his nanny wasn’t with him. Before long, Dolly gave up trying.
Although James had no desire for an intimate relationship with Gladys, he took a great deal of pride in being married to such a talented and beautiful woman. He also thought that because Gladys’s Italian lover was no longer part of her life, he would be able to take to her child as though it was his own. Unfortunately, Gladys made the mistake of telling him how much the baby looked like his father, and after that, every time James looked at the child, he felt a twinge of jealousy and dislike.
Nevertheless, he did make a half-hearted attempt, but the disapproval in his eyes was so obvious that Gladys kept them apart as much as she could. As soon as Edward learned enough words to ask for what he wanted, Gladys catered to his every whim. Before he was even two years old, he was well on his way to becoming a mama’s boy.
Gladys continued to accompany James whenever he asked her to, but he could tell she did it out of duty, and he soon began spending most of his time in the company of Percy.
Edward refused to go to bed by himself. Although his nanny, who was an expert on handling such problems, offered to help, Gladys insisted on lying down with him in her bed every evening until he fell asleep. This not only meant she was often late for dinner engagements, but she missed a lot of choir practices as well.
When Lionel questioned her about it, she said that she was very sorry, but poor little Eddy suffered with a nervous condition and needed her at home. A few days later, he met James as he was riding on the moors and happened to mention how sorry he was to hear that Eddy suffered with a nervous condition, a sickness he thought only plagued adults. James refuted Gladys’s excuse and informed Lionel that his son was in perfect health, and the only thing he suffered with was a mollycoddling mother.
Lionel confronted Gladys the following Sunday in the choir room, telling her that it disrupted the choir if a member missed more practices than they attended, therefore, he might have to ask her to leave. Gladys wanted to stay, but she knew she couldn’t leave home unless Edward was sleeping peacefully. “But, Lionel, I told you why I can’t always come,” she said.
“Your husband seems to think there’s no reason why you can’t, Gladys. He said that your boy is a perfectly healthy little fellow and has a capable nanny who can look after him while you are away.”
“James has no idea what my son is suffering from, and I am sorry if you think he does,” Gladys answered sharply. Then, realizing how rude she sounded, she apologized, “I am sorry, Lionel. I didn’t mean that. I really enjoy being in the choir, and as soon as Eddy gets over these attacks, I would like to come back, if that is acceptable.”
Lionel said he’d be more than happy to have her.
Gladys waited until she and James were far enough away from the church before she lit into him. “Why did you tell Lionel I needn’t stay home with Eddy? You know he will only go to sleep if I am with him,” she said accusingly.
“I am sick of the way you treat the boy. We all are.”
“Who do you mean by all?” she asked.
“Gladys, it really matters not who I mean. You are spoiling the child, and the sad thing is that it is not making him happy.”
“I might spoil him, but that is much better than hating him.”
“I do not hate him. I merely want to see him grow up to be a decent young man, but if you don’t stop pampering him, there is little chance of that.”
Although Gladys disagreed with James, what he said made an impression on her, and she began to notice how much she had alienated Eddy from the rest of the household, especially Dolly. She recalled how Dolly had at first begged to hold him and play with him. But now she hardly looked at him. She also realized that her daughter had grown apart from her as well. She tried to reason that the problem had to do with the amount of time Dolly had to spend on her studies since, shortly after their marriage, James had insisted on hiring a tutor for her—but she knew that was not the problem.
Edward’s nanny, Miss Edna Bruin, was a pleasant-natured, middle-aged spinster who had been a nanny most of her life and came with excellent references. Although it sometimes took a month or more to teach her charges proper manners and behaviour, she never failed to achieve excellent results, but Edward’s possessive mothe
r seemed about to mar her record.
“I cannot understand why they hired me,” she complained to a friend in Sandwich, who she visited every second Sunday on her day off. “The boy’s mother does everything for him, and there am I, left with nothing to do.” Then she went on to say how sad the little fellow was and how even his father dare not interfere. “I can feel the tension in the house, Bertha. It is most troubling.” To add colour to what could be thought of as a dull life, Edna often enjoyed dramatizing every little happening, and now that she had Bertha’s attention, she continued, “Now, I do not know if you remember hearing about that poor young governess, Henrietta DeLuzey?” Bertha shook her head.
“Well, about ten years ago, she moved to France after she was hired by the Duc and Duchess de Pralin as their children’s governess. I still remember how sad it was. You see, in 1847 the Duchess was brutally killed, and the Duc was charged with her murder! The authorities claimed he and Henrietta were lovers.”
“Oh, yes, now I remember,” Bertha spoke up. “You actually knew her?”
“Yes, but only for a short time. The family she worked for in England were friends of the family I worked for, and because their little ones enjoyed playing together, we often took them all for outings.”
“But according to what was written in the papers, Miss DeLuzey seduced the Duc and poisoned the children’s minds against their poor mother,” Bertha exclaimed.
“That was what Victor Hugo wrote, but I never did believe one word of it, not one word. That girl was the most honourable girl I have ever known. She would never allow such a thing to happen. Thank heavens they found her not guilty. Mind you, she was practically forced to leave the country.”
“I wonder what happened to her.”
“I have no idea.”
“You don’t expect something as bad as that will happen with your family, do you?” Bertha asked, secretly hoping Edna would say yes.
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