Philippa Carr - [Daughters of England 09]

by The Adulteress

  Madeleine Carter was introduced to the visitors and my mother heartily approved of her. “She seems a good sensible young woman,” she said.

  Sabrina added: “Just the sort to keep Lottie in check.”

  Dickon irreverently called her the Holy Virgin Madeleine, and told Lottie that he couldn’t quite detect the halo but he wondered whether her young eyes had seen it.

  Lottie laughed and said: “You are not to make fun, Cousin Dickon. She’s very good.”

  “And you like the good?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Oh … I’m desolate. That means you don’t like me.”

  Lottie pursed her lips and nodded, which sent Dickon into fits of laughter.

  I could see he was charming Lottie; in fact he set out to charm everybody, even Madeleine Carter.

  He certainly gave out an air of absolute joie de vivre. He was enormously interested in Eversleigh … as he had always been, but now that he was older and I suppose was able to compare the estate with that of Clavering, his interest was even greater. I was glad that he talked so enthusiastically to Jean-Louis, which seemed to do my husband good. I was grateful to him for that, but all the time I was watching Jean-Louis for some sign that the pain might be returning.

  Christmas morning was bright and sparkling with frost on the roads and the rooftops, but by midday the wintry sun had melted it and as the wind had dropped it seemed quite mild. Lottie and Miss Carter went out riding in the morning and Dickon accompanied them. I heard their laughter and looked out of the window to see them ride by.

  I was glad that Miss Carter was with them. I was sure she would keep even Dickon in check. Last evening he had called at Grasslands. I had expected he might stay late into the night but to my surprise he returned to Eversleigh after about an hour of his leaving. I wondered whether Evalina had not been at home.

  I shrugged my shoulders. If he were going to resume that liaison it would keep him out of the house perhaps.

  The carol singers came to pay us their usual visit. The riders were back by then. I knew they would be. Lottie would never allow them to miss the carols.

  We all joined in and it was Lottie who helped to pass round the punch and the cake.

  Jean-Louis was well enough to be brought down to the hall. I watched him closely for the first sign of the pain, in which case I decided I would give him a dose of laudanum and have him taken back to his bed. But he sat there smiling and his eyes scarcely left Lottie unless it was to look at me.

  I sat beside him for most part of the time, watching him anxiously.

  He knew it. He said: “Don’t worry, Zipporah. If I need a dose I’ll ask. Now forget it.”

  So I tried to and I joined in the carols and took the punch which Lottie brought to me.

  “You must have some, papa,” she said. “It will do you good.”

  She brought the goblet to him, drank from it, smiling at him, and then handed it to him.

  I heard him murmur: “Bless you, dear child.”

  We had eaten and the festivities had begun. The great hall was crowded. The farmers on the estate, with their families. had come according to tradition and they would all join in the dancing when the fiddlers started to play. I had been right in my prophecy that they would come if the rewards were sufficient and they were pausing between dances to drink their punch.

  The Forsters came with Charles and the farmers on their estate, as did the one or two from Grasslands: for Eversleigh was the manor house and the custom for years had been that everyone came to dance at least one measure at the Court on Christmas Day.

  Evalina arrived looking happy in a rather secretive way. I saw Dickon watching her, but she seemed to be unaware of him. Jack Trent was with her.

  I danced with Charles Forster. He was no great dancer—very different, I thought, from Dickon, who won the admiration not only of my doting mother and his own but that of the whole company by his cavorting. He took no one partner for the evening but danced with a different one every time, which was what would be expected of the host. I realized with vague annoyance that he had taken on that role. I was touchy. Of course he did. He was one of the family and Jean-Louis was unable to perform the duty.

  Charles talked of Jean-Louis and said how pleased he was to see him in the hall.

  “Do you think I was right to have him carried down?”

  “Indeed I do. The more normal the life he leads the better.”

  “I couldn’t have borne it if he had been ill tonight.”

  “He’s in one of his quiet periods. I can see.”

  “I do wish they would continue.”

  “They might, and the longer time between each attack the better. When he is free of pain he has a chance to regain a little strength.”

  “It is such a comfort that you are near.”

  He pressed my hand. “It’s a comfort to me to be of use.”

  We were smiling at each other and I was only half aware of Dickon’s flashing past with Evalina.

  Charles returned me to Jean-Louis and stayed to chat with us. Jean-Louis told him how much better he felt. “The laudanum seems to give me strength,” he said.

  “What it does,” said Charles, “is give you a respite from pain and that helps to build up some resistance to it.”

  “Then it’s good for me.”

  “In small prescribed doses, yes. I am sure Zipporah has told you you must never exceed the dose.”

  “She guards the bottle like a dragon breathing fire.”

  “That’s as it should be,” said Charles.

  Evalina came up and said: “I want to ask you something.”

  Charles slipped away and she went on: “I know it’s something I ought to do in my own home. But everyone’s here tonight and I want them all to know. I know there’s some who will say it’s too soon … but well, what’s the sense in waiting?”

  “You don’t mean …” I began.

  She gave me a wide smile. “Yes, I do. It’s Jack and me … well, we don’t see why not. It’s just right, isn’t it? He manages the estate. It’s my estate. He doesn’t mind that. We’ll share it. But I think it’s best to make it all regular. So would you mind?”

  I looked at Jean-Louis and he smiled.

  At that moment Dickon went dancing by. His partner was Miss Carter. She seemed to be dancing very gracefully. She looked quite unlike herself. One lock of hair had broken free.

  Lottie came running over.

  She gripped my arm; she was laughing so much that she was quite incoherent. “Did … you see Miss Carter?”

  I laughed back. “I told you so. But listen, Evalina is going to make an announcement.”

  Lottie clapped her hands. “Oh … what fun. Is it … that she’s going to marry Jack Trent?”

  I was surprised. I hadn’t thought she would know of such matters.

  I realized that I had to face the fact that Lottie was growing up.

  I stood up and clapped my hands. There was a silence throughout the hall.

  I said: “Mistress Mather wants to tell you all something.”

  Evalina went forward dragging Jack Trent by the hand.

  “I know there’s been a bit of gossip about us,” she said. “Well, now you’ll know there’s going to be an end to all that. Jack and I are going to be married.”

  There was a short silence and then someone started to clap.

  Dickon cried out: “This calls for a celebration. We must all drink their health.”

  There was a bustle while glasses were filled all around.

  Dickon was standing close to Evalina. He held his glass high and looked at her. I saw the expression in her face as she returned his glance. I thought it was one of triumphant defiance. I saw too the glitter of amusement in Dickon’s eyes.

  The musicians started to play “Heart of Oak,” which seemed somewhat inappropriate.

  Dickon duly departed with my mother and Sabrina. Lottie clung to them all and tried to urge them to stay longer.


  Dickon said: “My dear cousin, I have an estate to run. I can’t stay away too long.”

  My mother held her tightly and said: “We must see each other more often. I will not endure these long separations.”

  I felt relieved when they had gone and we settled down to the normal routine. A few days after their departure James and Hetty returned and Lottie ceased to miss them but turned to Hetty’s children, to whom she had taken a great fancy.

  The winter was a hard one and Jean-Louis’s pain seemed to come more frequently. Charles was often at the house and our friendship deepened. Sometimes I felt it was deeper than friendship. I began to experience great pleasure in his presence. It was ironic that when he came it was because Jean-Louis was suffering. Sometimes I went into the town to collect the medicines. Charles didn’t want to hand them to anyone but me. I became familiar with the house where he had his surgery. I thought it rather cheerless. He had a housekeeper—an elderly woman who I knew was most careful of his comforts. That was good, for he was the kind of man who would neglect himself.

  Evalina married Jack Trent at Easter. There was a touch of spring in the air. Oddly enough it did not cheer me. A terrible depression settled on me as I saw Jean-Louis’s condition deteriorating. I slept in the dressing room now. Often in the night I would get up and give him a painkilling dose. That cupboard with the key which I kept in a secret drawer in a small desk by the window haunted my dreams. I would dream that I had lost the key and was searching frantically for it. Sometimes I was riding through the night to Charles. I would cry out: “I’ve lost the key.” The sound of my own voice often woke me and so vivid would the dream be that I would get out of bed, light my candle and open the secret drawer. The key was always there. “It’s only a dream.” I would say—and how many times did I say it during that long winter!

  “He’ll be better when the spring comes,” I used to say; but in my heart I knew that his condition had nothing to do with the weather.

  Later I was to blame the strain for what happened. I remembered how on another occasion I was ready to blame something other than the needs of my own nature. Then I had tried to convince myself that a long-dead ancestor had taken possession of me. What nonsense! It was I who had lain in that bed with Gerard and listened to the strains of music coming from the fair as I made passionate love with a man not my husband.

  Now I said: “It is the tension … the strain … the fact that I have to watch Jean-Louis—whom I love—deteriorating.

  One night I heard him move. I was like a woman with her baby. If he stirred I was usually awakened out of my sleep.

  He was sitting out of bed in his chair … I was amazed. His hands covered his face and his shoulders were shaking.

  “Jean-Louis,” I cried running to him, “what are you doing?”

  “Oh … I have awakened you. I tried to be so quiet.”

  “I hear every movement.”

  “It is selfish of me.”

  “I want to hear,” I cried. “I want to be with you if you need me. What is it? Is it the pain?”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s … the uselessness,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? I lie in bed … or sit in this chair and think: What use am I? They’d be better off without me.”

  “Don’t dare say such a thing,” I cried.

  “Isn’t it true? I am a constant anxiety to you. You admit you cannot sleep deeply. You are with me all the time … I am useless in every way.”

  “Jean-Louis,” I said, “it hurts me when you talk like that.”

  I knelt beside him and buried my face in his dressing gown. I couldn’t stop thinking of how I had deceived him.

  I cried out: “I want to look after you. Don’t you understand? That is my life. It’s what I want.”

  “Oh, Zipporah, Zipporah,” he murmured.

  “Please understand, Jean-Louis.”

  “I would always understand,” he said. “No matter what … I would always understand.”

  What did he mean? Had he some second sight? Did he know of that passionate love between me and Gerard? Could he possibly suspect that Lottie was not his child? I felt a sudden urge to open my heart to him, to tell him what had happened.

  I stopped myself just in time. Suppose he had no suspicion? What would the discovery do to him in his condition?

  He said: “I have seen the pain in your eyes … when I have an attack. It hurts me, Zipporah … more than the pain of my body.”

  “Oh, dearest, of course I suffer. I wish that I could take over some of the pain. I wish that we could share that together.”

  “Bless you, my darling,” he said. “You have given me everything … you and your mother. In the past I often thought of what might have happened to me if she had not kept me. My own mother did not want me. I wanted to stay.”

  “Yes, I remember hearing how you refused to get up in the morning and would not let your nanny out of your sight.”

  “I came to look on you as my charge … and it’s been like that every since. It’s been a happy time together, hasn’t it, Zipporah?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Oh yes.”

  “Thank you. Thank you. I want you to have happy memories. That’s why I am afraid.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “That there might be unhappy ones if this goes on. I have sometimes thought … suppose I doubled the dose … trebled it. … What would it be like? Sleep! Blessed sleep! When I have one dose you can’t imagine the relief. It makes me sleep. doesn’t it? Sometimes I feel that I would like to sleep and sleep … and never wake up to pain.”

  “Oh, Jean-Louis, you must not talk like that. It’s as though you want to leave us.”

  He stroked my hair very tenderly. “Only because I cannot bear to see you suffer, my dearest one.”

  “And do you think I should not if you … went into that deep, deep sleep?”

  “For a while. Then you could be happy again.”

  I shook my head.

  “Oh yes,” he said. “Oh yes.”

  “I will not listen to such talk.”

  “You make-me feel … wanted.” he said.

  “How could you ever feel otherwise?”

  “Because I am ungrateful. I am surrounded by loving care … and why should that be given to me? I am useless … whichever way you look. Zipporah … I am useless.”

  “Please stop such talk immediately. I will not have it. If you can get the better of this wretched pain you can enjoy so much … all the worthwhile things. And the longer we can keep the pain at bay the more chance you have of strengthening yourself. Isn’t that what Dr. Forster says?”

  “You’re right. Zipporah. But if it should ever be that it is hopeless … and there is nothing left to me but pain … well, who would blame me … ? Zipporah, would you help me, if the pain gets too bad?”

  “Oh, please don’t talk of such things.”

  “I think of them. Escape is in that bottle. … If it became unbearable … a little help …”

  “Let me help you to bed. Let me lie beside you and hold your hand. Let me try to make you understand all you mean to me.”

  I stayed with him for the rest of the night lying beside him, holding his hand until he fell into a peaceful sleep.

  There was a letter from my mother. We corresponded regularly for she was eager to hear of Jean-Louis’s condition.

  “I know that you cannot come to us and leave Jean-Louis.” she wrote, “and if we come to you that disturbs the household, but why should not Lottie visit us? That nice sensible Miss Carter could come with her. We do so long to see her.”

  When Lottie heard she was eager to go. Dear child. I think she was beginning to be affected by Jean-Louis’s illness. I thought it would be a good idea for her to get away for a while.

  So she left at the end of June.

  I watched her leave in the company of Miss Carter and six grooms and I gave them instructions that t
hey were to send the grooms back the day after they arrived so that I should know they had reached their destination safely.

  Then I went back to Jean-Louis.

  He was lying in bed. He smiled when he saw me.

  “I’m glad she’s gone,” he said.

  “Oh, come,” I answered, “you hate to lose her.”

  “I miss her,” he said. “But it’s good for her not to have to see me.”

  “Don’t talk like that, Jean-Louis,” I begged.

  “It’s true,” he said, a little harshly. There was a faint irritation in his voice—so unlike him, but I knew that it was the herald of pain.

  “We must face the truth,” he said. “I’m a depressing object.”

  “Nonsense. Do you feel like a game of chess?”

  “And you …” he went on, “you should be going with them.”

  “I prefer Eversleigh. I have no desire to go to Clavering. You know how I dislike Dickon. And as for my mother and his, they talk Dickon all the time.”

  “I hope Lottie won’t get tired of the subject.”

  “She has her lessons. Madeleine Carter will never allow her to evade them … much as she might like to.”

  “Madeleine Carter is a stern taskmaster—or, I should say, mistress.”

  “I hope not too stern. I think she does preach a little hell fire to poor Lottie now and then. I don’t want the child thinking her immortal soul’s in peril because she commits some little peccadillo.”

  “Is Madeleine so upright then?”

  “Completely so. She lives by a set of rules all laid down in her interpretation of the Bible. It makes life easy.”

  “Perhaps she has never had the temptation to be other than good?”

  “Well, let’s accept her for the good woman she is. I don’t suppose Lottie will be any the worse for her discipline. I’ll get the chessboard.”

  It was when we were in the middle of the game that the attack began. I hastened in to the dressing room and took out the bottle and gave him a dose with a shaking hand. His talk had unnerved me. I put the bottle on a table and made him lie down. The effect was miraculous. He opened his eyes and smiled on me and then I saw his gaze rest on the bottle.