Dolly managed to hold back her tears. “Thank you, James. I would rather stay here than go to America anyway.”
Eddy hadn’t been the same since James struck him. Although he still played with Eliza, he was much quieter and was often seen wearing a sad expression. Eliza was too young to understand why, but she instinctively knew something was very wrong and hugged him whenever she had the chance. As much as Eddy loved his sister, her embraces did little to cheer him up, nor did James’s attempts to be nice to him.
James, hoping to prove he felt no animosity toward the boy, tried to seek him out as often as he could to impress Gladys, thinking it might convince her it would be in Eddy’s best interest if she were to stay. However, Eddy was just as determined and managed to avoid him whenever possible. This wasn’t always easy, so when Gladys told him they were soon going on a very long trip to a new country called America, he could hardly wait to leave.
However, when she told him that Dolly and Eliza were not going with them, he cried and demanded to know why. Gladys told him that Eliza was too young to travel and that Dolly said she would stay home and look after her. “We shall have to bring them both something very special if we are going to be gone a long time, Mother,” he said.
James knew that Horace and Sarah, who now had a little boy and were expecting another child, could not come in time to change Gladys’s mind, so he sent for his Aunt Jean. He knew she and Gladys had become very fond of one another and thought that if anyone could help, Jean would be the one to do it. She arrived about ten days before Gladys planned to leave.
James decided it would be a good idea if both he and Gladys were to talk to her together, but Gladys didn’t like the idea. She was convinced the meeting would end in an argument and upset the elderly lady, so she insisted James talk to her first.
When James told Jean that Gladys was going to America with Eddy’s father, she mumbled, “If the boy resembles his father, I can believe it.”
Shocked, James asked, “What did you say?”
“Forgive me, my dear. That was a thoughtless thing to say. I was not thinking. You mean to say that she is actually planning on leaving you?”
“Not only me, Auntie. She is going to leave Eliza and Dolly too.”
“Oh my, this is serious. What on earth happened to bring this about?”
“Nothing. Oh, she blames me for an incident that happened a while ago. I caught the boy ripping pages out of father’s book of poetry and I struck him, but I am certain she is merely using that as an excuse to be with her lover. I thought perhaps you could have a talk with her. She is fond of you, you know.”
“And I of her, but I must say I was afraid something like this would happen when you married her.” She used her cane to get up before saying, “Well, James, I shall do what I can, but Gladys has always had a mind of her own.”
Gladys was afraid that Jean wouldn’t want to speak to her after her talk with James, but, surprisingly, she was as friendly as ever. Then, when Jean said she would like to have a private talk where they wouldn’t be disturbed, Gladys knew she was not getting off so easily. Jean suggested they use James’s library because he had gone riding. They even helped themselves to some of his sherry.
When they each had a drink, Jean came right to the point. “Now, Gladys, my dear, I should like to hear your side of the story—all of it, if you don’t mind.”
When Gladys was finished, she said, “I expect James asked you to try and persuade me to stay, Jean, but I’m afraid I have made up my mind.”
“Yes, he did, but now I am not sure staying here would be the wisest thing to do.”
“You mean you actually agree with me?”
“That is not what I said. However, I would appreciate it if both you and James were to join me here tonight. Perhaps what I have to suggest shan’t be what either of you want to hear, but I intend to have my say. There is one thing I should like you to answer for me before James is with us, Gladys. Have you thought what this will do to him?”
“Of course I have, but he hasn’t been happy for a long time, and it has nothing to do with me.”
“You must have been happy together for a time. You had a beautiful daughter together.”
Gladys took Jean’s statement as an accusation and thoughtlessly defended herself. “The night that Eliza was conceived was the only time we were intimate. James had been drinking heavily and insisted on coming into my bed, despite my unwillingness. It was not a pleasant act for either of us. I don’t know if you can understand this, Jean, but James has no desire to be intimate with any woman. He only slept with me because he thought it was his duty as a man. You might say he is a man’s man. He was happy when he was friends with Percy, but since they’ve had a disagreement, he hasn’t been the same.”
Gladys stood up and walked over to the window as she tried to think of a subtle way to explain the different reasons why James had married her. Not able to come up with anything, she decided to tell the truth.
“Although James married me out of pity, he also wanted a family without a romantic relationship, and because I was in love with another man, he knew it would suit me too. That way, life at Four Oaks could go on as it had. So while I might hurt James’s pride when I leave, you may be assured that I shall not break his heart.”
Gladys suddenly realized how cold and cruel her words were, and, before Jean could respond, she added, “Your nephew is one of the kindest and dearest men I have ever known, and if you want to help him, Jean, you should try to convince him to regain Percy’s friendship. They have so much in common and enjoy each other’s company more than anyone else’s.”
If Jean had understood exactly what Gladys was implying when she called James a man’s man, she certainly didn’t respond accordingly, but said, “I have known a few men who prefer the company of men to that of women. I suppose they enjoy the more rugged things in life. I never thought James was that way though—in fact, there were some in the family who thought him quite fragile.”
That evening, after the children were in bed, James, Gladys, and Jean retired to the library. With the door closed, it was the most soundproof room in the house. For the sake of the children, James and Gladys had been pleasant at the dinner table, but now neither said a word, so it was up to Jean to begin.
“Now, then, you have both confided in me, and I must say I am flattered that you think enough of me to do so. You, James, are like a son to me, and, Gladys, I have begun to think of you as one of my family as well, so please be assured that whatever I have to offer in the way of advice comes from my heart. I think by relating an experience I had as a young woman, you might understand my sentiments a little more clearly.
“Looking at me now, you might find it difficult to imagine that I was once young, pretty, and in love. Oh yes, very, very much in love! The young man was an artist. I always enjoyed painting and even dreamt of becoming a recognized painter myself. I had seen a painting in a window one day and was so impressed with it that I was determined to meet the artist and beg him to teach me his technique. I learned he was a Spaniard and his name was Juan Sanchez. I later learned that he lived in the basement of a house in a rundown part of town. Nevertheless, I was so taken with his work that I ignored the squalor and visited him once every week.
“During the good weather, we sometimes took our easels down to the shore or into the forest to paint. Juan was a handsome fellow with a carefree nature. He was also a popular man, and my lessons were often interrupted by friends dropping in with food and bottles of wine. Then they would stay, eating and drinking until dawn.
“I am afraid I have become carried away with my story. I have never talked about Juan to anyone before, and I find it quite liberating. Yes, that is exactly what it is, liberating.
“Before long, Juan and I had fallen in love and could hardly wait to be married. Realizing how poor he was, I asked Father to set him up in a lucrative b
usiness, so we could afford a home and at least a few servants. I suppose because I was in my late twenties and Father was anxious to see me married, he agreed. Juan was invited to spend a weekend at our estate so Father could get to know him before telling him of his generous offer. Mother also invited some of their other friends so they could meet him.
“The weekend was a complete disaster. Juan felt ill at ease the entire time. I had thought his accent romantic, but it soon became obvious that, while our other guests thought it amusing, they also considered it common, and their attitude toward him was noticeably condescending. After the other guests departed, Father kept his word and offered to set Juan up in business. Instead of being pleased, Juan was humiliated. However, he thanked Father before refusing to accept what he considered charity. When Father asked him how he intended to keep me in the manner that I was accustomed to, he answered that he didn’t—at least not until he sold a lot more of his paintings.
“Juan had a glimpse of our life that weekend and, unfortunately, did not like it. So a short time later, and much against my Father’s wishes, he convinced me to move in with him, intending to marry me as soon as we could afford it. I really had no idea what sort of life he lived, but I thought that I would love it as long as I could be with him. I wish I could say I had enough perseverance to stay, but I was every bit as out of place in his world as he was in mine, and after a week, I knew it would never work. I returned home heartbroken and did not see Juan again until six years later.”
Jean stopped talking for a few seconds, and Gladys, anxious to hear what happened when the two lovers met again, couldn’t wait and asked, “What happened then, Jean?”
Before she could answer, James, who was becoming irritable and anxious for his aunt to try to dissuade Gladys from leaving, demanded to know what Jean’s affairs had to do with his and Gladys’s problem. Jean, taking her time, informed him he would just have to wait until she finished her story. She requested a cup of tea before she continued.
Gladys rang for a maid, and once they had their tea, Jean continued with her story.
“As I said, I did not see Juan again for six years after I returned home. Then one day I went shopping and my footman was just helping me down from my carriage when a little girl ran into me, almost tipping me over. A man rushed over to apologize, and I almost fainted when I saw his face. It was Juan, and he was even handsomer than I remembered. He was with a woman who was obviously in the family way. He called her over to me and introduced her as his wife.
She was not a pretty woman, but she did have a pleasant countenance and a friendly smile. Besides the little girl who had bumped into me, there were two more little ones, and Juan insisted I meet them all. We talked for a while and I learned that although he was still painting, he was also working as a clerk in order to pay the bills. One of his little ones then began pulling on his britches, urging him to leave, so we said goodbye, and I never saw him again. I still love the man, but I shall never forgive him.”
“Because he married someone else?” Gladys asked.
“Goodness no! I hardly expected him to stay single—a man needs a family. The reason I shan’t forgive him is because he looked so bloody happy.”
James and Gladys gasped. They had never heard Jean use such vulgar language before. Jean apologized, saying, “Forgive me, but that is how I felt.”
“Oh, Jean, I am so sorry. Do you wish you had married him?” Gladys asked.
“No, Gladys. Even though I never met anyone else I could love, I know Juan and I could never have been happy together. Our backgrounds were so very different.”
“I think your story was more for my benefit than Gladys’s, is that not right, Auntie?” James said sharply.
“James, when I saw how happy Gladys was with the servants at your wedding party, I knew she would never feel completely at home with our kind,” Jean said sympathetically.
Addressing Gladys, Jean continued, “You may have fooled some people, Gladys, but I was reminded of Juan every time I looked at you. I am sorry, James. I know that is not what you wanted to hear.”
“But surely you cannot condone her leaving her three-year-old daughter? Could you do such a thing?”
“I do not know, James. I think not, but truthfully, I do not know. You did say you intend to return before long, did you not, Gladys?”
“Of course, and now with the new steamships, the voyage only takes about a week.”
“And while you are gone, I shall be only too happy to come and help look after the girls,” Jean announced.
James stood up, and throwing his hands in the air, said, “Well then, it sounds like you two have it all planned. It matters not to either of you that I shall be the laughingstock of the town.” He didn’t stay to hear a reply.
Although Jean was very fond of Gladys and would miss her, she felt rather pleased when she heard she was leaving. Ever since Gladys had made such wonderful improvements to James’s home, Jean had hoped to be invited to stay permanently. Now all she had to do was convince James that she could take Gladys’s place as mistress of Four Oaks. The next day, before leaving, she mentioned it to James. Knowing how fond she was of Eliza and Dolly, he said he would think about it. When Jean said goodbye to Gladys, she hugged her, wished her good luck, and then gave her fifty pounds. Gladys didn’t refuse the money, not knowing how healthy Angelo’s finances were.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Gladys only had a week to prepare for the journey. She decided on one trunk for their clothes and one for their personal belongings.
Dolly had convinced James that even if his aunt were to move in, she was far too elderly to take Gladys’s place. She then convinced him that she could easily replace her mother as mistress of the manor, at least until Gladys returned. Having gained his approval, she put her feelings aside and asked her mother to write out a list of her duties and explain how best to do them. Gladys was pleased because it would give them more time together before she left.
“I can’t take my sewing machine, Dolly, so I’ll show you how to operate it before I leave. Everything else that I can’t take with me, you may have, and that includes my dear Tig. Your grandfather gave him to me just after your father and I were married. He’s a bit stubborn at times but a joy to ride.” Then, when she only received a nod, she added, “Please don’t be too angry with me, darling. I love you so very much, and I promise that I shall write often, and I hope you will answer my letters. I shall be back before long, Dolly. I promise.”
Dolly didn’t really believe her but managed to smile as she answered, “That will be nice.”
They were busy going over all the duties Dolly would have to perform, but whenever they stopped to have tea or eat, they would talk, and it hurt Gladys to hear the bitterness in her daughter’s voice when she said she was thankful she had never known her grandparents. It was then that Gladys began defending them.
“They were not as fortunate as your Gamby, Dolly. He was born into aristocracy, as were you, but my parents were born in poverty. There was no money for education, but Mama could sing more songs than anyone I ever knew. You would have loved to see her dance, Dolly. She looked like a fairy princess with her beautiful, shiny red hair—hair much like yours. And your grandpa was the most handsome man in the neighbourhood. He was taller than Gamby and stronger than Ruby. His eyes twinkled, and he had the jolliest laugh.”
Time had softened Gladys’s memories, and the parents she described were the ones she knew when she was little more than an infant. Her words had a profound effect, and Dolly began to think about her grandparents in a kinder light.
As the time for her mother’s departure came nearer, Dolly became aware of how very much she would miss her. Nevertheless, because she could hardly wait to take over the grown-up position of mistress of Four Oaks, she didn’t attempt to dissuade her from leaving.
The week went by far too quickly, and Gladys was kept
so busy that she didn’t have time to visit with the staff, but she did manage to take her horse out for one last ride. She was about to ride past the Ellison’s cottage when Richard came out and flagged her down. He hadn’t heard that she was leaving and smiling broadly he said, “Can you spare a moment, Mrs Hornsby?”
Gladys had wanted to say goodbye to the family so she got off her horse. “What is it, Richard?” she asked.
“I’ve something to show you—it’s in the shop here,” he said as he led her to the shop he had made out of an old feed shed behind his house.
“I don’t have much time.”
“Oh, it won’t take a minute.”
“Is Nell home?” she asked as they were walking toward the shop.
“She’s over to Mrs Palmers. Taking her some of her rabbit stew. Mrs Palmer’s not feeling too sprightly these days.” They had reached the shed and Richard had opened the big door before Gladys could reply. She couldn’t help but squeal when she saw the beautiful settee he had built to go with the chairs. Then she couldn’t stop the tears.
Richard thought she was disappointed, and he felt like crying too. “You don’t like it, missus?” he asked.
“Oh, Richard, it is the most beautiful piece of furniture I have ever seen. I love it!” Then she told him that she was leaving Four Oaks. “But I shall be back someday, and I know that James will treasure it as much as I would.” She hugged him and said goodbye.
The first thing she did when she arrived home was to tell James about the settee and ask him to make sure that Richard received a very generous payment for it. It was another thing she was going to regret leaving behind.
Once James realized that Gladys wasn’t going to change her mind, he tried to avoid her as much as possible. The day before she was to depart, she asked him if they could have a talk. Knowing it would be foolish to refuse, he suggested they meet in the dining room after the children retired. He did not want to tarnish his memories of the library, where they had shared so many enjoyable evenings.
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