The Selfless Sister

by Shirley Kennedy

  “And what might that be?” Was it her imagination or had Edgerton’s brows flickered and his nose flared ever so slightly, as if he was leery of what she was about to say?

  “It concerns the old tragedy.” She cocked her head and waited for his reaction, but apparently he had braced himself because not one muscle flickered in that disapproving face. She continued, “In talking to some of the people who were there at the time, I find a few discrepancies. I was wondering if you would care to straighten them out.”

  Edgerton’s voice turned glacial. “What gives you the right to delve into a family tragedy that is none of your affair?”

  “I’m part of the family and it is my affair,” she answered equitably. She decided to resort to sheer reason. “I cannot say for a certainty that Gregory is not to blame for the disappearance of Marianne, but on the other hand, I’ve discovered some interesting facts which—”

  “I think you had better leave,” said Edgerton, his voice low, without inflection.

  “But I have a few questions I’d like to ask concerning the tragedy.”

  “Leave,” Edgerton again demanded. His perfect control had slipped a notch. He looked uncomfortable. “Mama wants you to stay, so you may stay, but kindly keep out of my sight as much as possible.”

  Edgerton had backed down! Happy to be released, Lucinda left the study quickly. On her way up to her aunt’s bed chamber, realization flooded her that she had completely foiled Edgerton’s attempt to browbeat her. She found the thought exceedingly satisfying. She knew Charles had been released because of what she’d said last night. By standing up to Edgerton—an act of defiance which apparently no one around here had ever thought to do—she had discovered the chink in his armor. Perhaps she could widen it further by discovering the truth about the tragedy. What a triumph it would be if she discovered that Gregory was not be to blame for the disappearance of Marianne. Her thoughts wandered where they’d never gone before. If Gregory was innocent, would that not mean that the Belington family name would be forever cleared? And if the feud between the Belingtons and the Linleys came to an end, then not only could Alethea and Alex be reunited, but she could...

  Marry Douglas!

  The astounding, mesmerizing thought had just popped into her head. But that’s nothing more than wishful thinking, she informed herself briskly. Such a happy ending could only happen in a fairy tale, not in her own unexciting life.

  Besides, although she knew she loved Douglas, was he in love with her? If he was, he hadn’t said so. Of course, his kiss last night was passionate, but she recalled her mother’s warnings about “that’s how men are.” Mama was right. Although Lucinda had experienced little of life’s passion, in the cold morning light she was well aware that kisses and true love did not necessarily go hand in hand.

  * * *

  Aunt Pernelia was in her bed chamber working her petit-point. Lucinda was surprised to see Sarah seated next to her, especially since it appeared Sarah was there to console her mother over the loss of Alethea. When Aunt spied Lucinda, she eagerly asked, “Did he keep his word? Are you allowed to stay?”

  “I can stay.”

  “I’m so glad.” Sorrow settled on Aunt Pernelia’s face. “We shall need your cheery countenance around here now that Alethea...” She bit her lip and for a moment could not go on.

  Sarah looked up from her embroidery and in her crisp manner said, “We shall all miss Alethea, Mama, but don’t forget, she brought it on herself.”

  Pernelia nodded. “I know she’s been a foolish girl, but Edgerton was much too hard on her. He’s my son, and I love him, but sometimes I wish...well, I confess, it would do my heart good to see someone teach Edgerton a good lesson.”

  Lucinda’s impulse was to confide in Pernelia–tell her what she’d learned about the day of the tragedy, and tell her about this morning’s conversation with Edgerton in which he had been evasive and seemed to cringe, as no innocent man would do, when she mentioned the tragedy. But what would be the point when she had only suspicions? Aunt Pernelia had gone through enough heartbreak and sorrow. It would be cruel to burden her with a new theory that as yet was only that—a theory not yet proven.

  It was possible, though, that the key to the mystery of Marianne’s disappearance might well be found in the attic at Ravensbrook Manor. The thought dawned on her that she must see the attic, although what she might find, she wasn’t sure. She must see Douglas, too. Her whole being cried out to see Douglas again. I love him, she thought, in another moment of sweet, joyful revelation. Last night she felt humiliated when he’d pulled away from her, but now that she thought of it, what other choice could a gentleman have? Last night she’d been too reticent to tell him she loved him. Now she could hardly wait to tell him, and, in turn, hear his admission of his love for her.

  But how to see him? She went to Aunt’s window, pulled the drape back, and stared out across the rolling lawns to the thick forest, beyond which, hidden from view, lay Ravensbrook Manor. But it might as well be a million miles away. She had bravely denied Edgerton the promise she would never go to Ravensbrook Manor again, but what good did her bravery do? It wasn’t the thought of Edgerton’s wrath that would keep her away, it was her mother’s teachings. A well-brought-up young lady would never dream of calling upon a gentleman, even if the end of the world were coming. Damnation! She knew without even thinking about it that there was no excuse in the world that would enable her to knock on the door of Ravensbrook Manor, secure in the knowledge she had not broken one of society’s strictest rules. I’m a bit of a rebel but not that much, she thought with dismay.

  Sarah came to stand next to her and looked pointedly to where she’d been gazing toward

  Ravensbrook. “Looking for someone, Lucinda? I hardly think Lord Belington will be out hunting this morning. Like as not, he’ll be tending to Alex’s wounds.”

  Lucinda quelled the sharp response that leaped to her lips. It occurred to her that if Edgerton had told a lie the day of the tragedy, then Sarah lied, too. Softly, so that her aunt couldn’t hear, she looked directly into her cousin’s eyes and in a low voice asked, “Sarah, the day of the tragedy, did you really see Gregory take little Marianne into the woods? Or did you just say you did because Edgerton asked you to?”

  Sarah gasped. “How dare you accuse me of lying?” she fiercely whispered back.

  Lucinda eyed her with sympathy. “It would be quite understandable if you had. After all, you were only five at the time and Edgerton was your big brother. Of course you would lie if he asked you to.”

  Grimly Sarah whispered, “I shall not dignify your question with a reply.” She spun on her heel and flounced from the room.

  So Sarah did lie! Her refusal to deny the accusation proved it. Lucinda was about to consider where this new bit of information fit into her suspicions when she heard three shots in the distance. They came from the woods, in the direction of Ravensbrook Manor. Douglas! She didn’t know how she knew, but those shots had to be a message from him to her. She turned to her aunt. “I have a sudden urge to take my sketch pad to the woods and sketch for a while.”

  Her aunt looked up from her petit-point and smiled indulgently. “Go ahead, my dear. One can find great solace in the peacefulness of the forest.”

  It was not solace she was looking for, Lucinda reflected as she raced to her room to check herself in the mirror, her spirits soaring at the thought of seeing Douglas again. There was still a mark on her cheek where Edgerton had struck her, but perhaps Douglas wouldn’t notice.

  * * *

  He was standing by the log where she’d been sitting when the gray partridge had dropped by her feet. He appeared to be patiently waiting, as if he knew she would come in response to his gunshots.

  The closer she came to him, the more she wanted to run faster, throw herself with abandon into his arms. Something kept her from such a course, though. He was smiling, yet the smile was strained. The expression in his eyes seemed eager enough. She sensed he was delighted
at the sight of her, yet she also sensed a certain caution deep within. But what truly disturbed her was the almost imperceptible movement of his arms to reach out to her—a movement he quickly contained. Now he pressed his arms against his sides. There was a stiffness about them, as if he was compelling them with difficulty to remain where they were.

  Lucinda stopped a few feet away, her burning desire to feel his embrace extinguished completely. It was if cold water had been dashed in her face. “Why, Lord Belington,” she said in the voice she used for the most casual of acquaintances, “what a pleasant surprise to see you here. As it happens, I was out for a stroll.”

  He ignored her shallow greeting and frowned with concern. “So you’re all right? I was worried. God only knows what Edgerton might have done.”

  “I am fine.” Why had he not even touched her, or looked at her in the manner he did last night? “But what of Alex?”

  “Edgerton’s bullet struck his arm. He has lost some blood and is in considerable pain, but he’ll recover. And Alethea?”

  “She’s fine, physically, but I can only imagine the turmoil she’s going through right now. Edgerton sent her off to Scotland at dawn this morning.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Douglas’s frown deepened. “I trust he gave you no trouble last night. I’ve been sick with worry and wasn’t sure how best to contact you. I detest skulking around in the woods like this, all to avoid Edgerton Linley. Had you not heard my shots, I swear I would have come to Southfield and pounded on the door.”

  Had she not been so perturbed, she might have laughed at the vision of Edgerton’s astonished face upon the butler’s announcement that a Belington was at his door. “Then thank heavens I heard your shots.” Douglas’s blunt honesty had put her to shame. She would no longer claim she was simply “out for a stroll.”

  He had been staring at her face. Now he stepped closer. “That mark on your cheek—was it Edgerton?”

  “Yes.” Upon seeing the instant look of rage that suffused his face, she hastened to add, “But it was only the once. He won’t do it again.”

  “Damn the man!” Fury in his eyes, Douglas directed his gaze toward Southfield. He appeared so angry Lucinda was afraid he might throw caution to winds and depart to do damage to Edgerton at any moment. “There is nothing to be gained—”

  “If he touches you again, I’ll kill him.”

  “He won’t.” Douglas always seemed so calm, collected. This was a side of him she had never seen before. Did this fierce reaction mean he had some feeling for her? But if he did, why was he holding back? Why had he not touched her, let alone kissed her? She placed a placating hand on his arm. “Douglas, please calm yourself. There’s something about Edgerton I think you should know.”

  He seemed to catch himself and voluntarily subdued his fury. In a calmer voice he said, “We have much to talk about. I had to see you. I had to explain about last night.”

  Her mind reeled with confusion. This was far from the impassioned meeting she pictured. “Does last night need an explanation?”

  “I wanted to assure you that what happened last night will not happen again. You have my word on it.” His gaze softened. “You’re a beautiful woman, Lucinda, both inside and out, and so very tempting, but that is no excuse for my abominable behavior.”

  “Oh, I see.” Despair tore at her heart. How foolish she had been to think he could love her. She raised her chin proudly. “There’s no need to apologize. What happened last night is of no import. The incident is already forgotten.”

  He took a step back from her, deliberately, she thought, so he could distance himself. A look of pain crossed his face. “Don’t you understand? Under the circumstances, anything between us would be unmitigated disaster, as I assume you can readily see. We need only take a look at what’s happened to Alex and Alethea. I could never see you suffer as Alethea must be suffering now.”

  “Oh, I quite agree,” she answered flatly, hoping she had disguised the misery she felt inside.

  “Edgerton is a madman, of course, but a madman with the power to ruin anyone or anything that gets in his path.” Douglas’s expression darkened. “If he ever harms you again...”

  “He won’t. I had a frank discussion with Edgerton. I let him know where I stand. That’s the key to handling Edgerton. You simply stand up to him and don’t let him bully you around.” She touched the mark on her cheek. “He’ll not ever strike me again.”

  “I shall take your word for it.” Puzzled, Douglas continued, “What were you going to tell me about Edgerton?”

  “Nothing.” What was the use? She felt so crushed that each word she said was like a heavy weight and she could hardly talk at all. “It was just a matter concerning the day little Marianne disappeared, but minor, really. It concerns the attic.”

  “If you’re thinking Marianne might be found up there, forget it. The attic was thoroughly searched.”

  “I...” She wondered how she could say the attic was not searched without revealing what Pitney had told her in confidence. After all, she had given her promise. She decided she could not say another word and lamely remarked, “I suppose you played in the attic many a time when you were little.”

  Her remark made Douglas laugh. “When I was a little boy, the servants had me so frightened of the ghost of Sir Giles I never set foot in that attic. Eventually I grew too old to believe Sir Giles could actually be rattling around up there, but by then, I was long past the time I’d want to play hide-and-seek.” Puzzled, he regarded her. “As you know, the attic was thoroughly searched at the time of Marianne’s disappearance. It would be a waste of time to search it now, although anyone could because it’s not even locked anymore. But to what end? The family is ruined, the damage is done.”

  But it’s not too late, she thought, and damage can sometimes be repaired. But judging from his indifferent attitude, it would be useless to argue further. Let it go. “You’re right. After all, what’s to be gained after all these years? Especially now that your parents are both gone, Gregory is gone—”

  “Gregory.” After repeating his brother’s name, Douglas bowed his head as if in deep thought. When he raised it again, he appeared to have fallen into a dark, reflective mood. “Once again the old tragedy rears its ugly head. Have you any idea how it has haunted me? How it has affected my life? And all because a little girl disappeared one day, and after that nothing was the same.” An ironic smile crossed his lips. “So much time has passed, there’s no harm in telling you now.”

  “Telling me what?”

  “Gregory is alive.”

  Alive! She had to let Douglas’s astounding words sink in a moment. “I am shocked. You mean he didn’t kill himself?” He nodded. “But if he’s not dead, then where is he?”

  “I have loathed having to keep lying all these years, but there you have the truth of it.” Douglas made a sad grimace. “My brother, Gregory, is indeed still alive. My father confided the truth to me when I was just a child–said I was the only one in the family, other than my mother, to know. For years, he supported Gregory, sending him a stipend each month through his solicitor.”

  “But what happened? Did Gregory fake his own death?”

  “That was a false rumor. Gregory did indeed shoot himself, but it was merely an accident. Gregory is tough. He would never have contemplated suicide. All the same, when the false rumor of his death was reported, he chose the easy way out and let the rumor stand as fact. Of course, I have continued to provide him with the stipend, so he’s been living in fairly comfortable circumstances in the south of France for many years now, under an assumed name. He paints, and is quite good at it.” Douglas raised an ironic eyebrow. “And, by the way, he still claims his innocence.”

  “You’ve seen him?”

  “Once, not long after my father died, I made my way to France to visit my supposedly dead brother. Of course, at the time he left, I was too young to remember much about him except I did recall what a charming fellow he was, and how handsome.
When in France, I found he still cuts a noble figure. I asked him to come home, but he refused—said he would not set foot on England’s shores until he was proven innocent.” Douglas laughed at the irony. “As if that could ever be possible. I tried my best to persuade him. After all, Gregory, not I, is the first son. I pointed out that Ravensbrook Manor is rightfully his, but he laughed and said he didn’t care. I even reminded him that Lady Perry, with whom he was madly in love, was still single, still beautiful.” Douglas paused to remember. “My words brought tears to my brother’s eyes, but still he would not weaken. ‘I’m but an exile,’ he said, ‘France is my home now and I shall die here and never come back.’”

  Lucinda asked, “Did you ever hold out the hope that some day Gregory might be proven innocent?”

  “Why do you think I’ve never married?” She frowned in puzzlement. He asked, “Don’t you see the deception? I am not the titled first son, and I won’t have some young woman marry me thinking that I am. All my life I’ve lived with the knowledge that if, by some miracle, Gregory’s name should be cleared, he could come back, reclaim his title, and I would become but a second son again.” He smiled grimly. “Without, I might add, a penny or an occupation to my name. I have hated living this...this...masquerade, but my father insisted. I had no choice.”

  At last she knew why he’d never married and why he’d backed away. Now she must be equally honest with him. Despite her hesitation at breaking Pitney’s confidence, she decided she had no choice but to reveal what Pitney told her about the attic. She started to speak, but Douglas interrupted. “Alex is waiting. I must go. My brother is a terrible state. We’re about to leave for London, but I had to see you and explain.”

  Her throat ached with defeat. “You’re leaving?”

  “Yes, today, for an indefinite stay.”

  “It’s all a horrible mess, isn’t it?”

  “God, yes,” he said in a thick, grudging voice, “a mess in so many ways. There’s not only you, but I must get Alex to London, where my own doctor can take a look him. He doesn’t want to go, of course. Did you know, gunshot and all, he wanted to follow after Alethea? In his desperation he would have followed her clear to Scotland, had he been able. I was obliged to use all my powers of persuasion to convince him such a course would have been sheer folly.”