by Bell, Julia
That evening I sent off a letter to Gwilym.
The next five days were idyllic and I spent as much time as possible with Emily and her father. When Brett was busy, Emily and I would take walks or read in the shade of the large oak in the meadow. I would push her on the swing that was attached to one of its branches and one morning when it rained, I played the piano and we sang together. But the most interesting time was when I joined them in the pasture and watched Brett and Emily ride. I was impressed with the way she handled a horse at such a young age and as for her father, the sight of him was a revelation. I had never seen him on horseback and he looked magnificent, sitting tall and straight with his riding breeches stretched tight across his thighs.
I leaned against the fence, watching them ride up and down while Brett instructed her.
He turned in the saddle and called, “Why don’t you ride with us, Isabelle?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs Asquith,” cried Emily. “It would be such fun.”
“Yes, when I fall off.”
Brett rode up to me. “I think you’ll do well on a horse. You’ll be quite safe.”
I smiled sweetly. “I’m happier this side of the fence.”
He laughed and galloped back to his daughter.
Angelique and I were becoming firm friends. When she felt well, we would often sit in the Greek temple, while she told me about her childhood in France, about Chateau St Julienne, about her parents, the Duc and Duchesse de St Julienne. I listened but didn’t comment. Sometimes I wondered if my expression betrayed my knowledge of the things she spoke of. I hoped it didn’t and I tried desperately to stay interested without displaying enthusiasm. And when she was exhausted and needed to lie down, I would help her back to the house.
One morning, about a week after arriving, I walked with Angelique and it wasn’t long before we were at the lake.
“Do you miss the stage, Mrs Asquith?” she asked, smiling.
“No, not really. I think my tour exhausted me.”
“Oui, that is natural. You worked hard.”
“But I feel more rested now.”
“You must stay as long as you wish.”
“I don’t want to outstay my welcome and I’m starting to miss my family.”
“Of course. Your son is enchanting. And he rides so well.”
I gazed across the water marvelling at the reflections dancing on its surface. “I really must decide what to do when I get back to London.”
She patted my arm reassuringly. “Perhaps you could go back to Covent Garden?”
I shook my head and noticed she was already showing signs of fatigue.
“Are you all right? Would you like to go inside?”
She smiled a haunted smile. “I am well, Mrs Asquith.”
I doubted that, but said, “Please call me Isabelle. After all, we know each other better now.”
“Oui, I will call you Isabelle.” She gave me a sidelong glance and then her expression became misty as if she was in a trance. She spoke slowly. “I know who you are, Isabelle.” I didn’t understand and frowned. “I know who you are,” she repeated. “You are Emily’s mother. The young woman my husband paid to bear his child.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
My mouth dried up in an instant and I licked my lips. “How did you know?” I whispered.
“Before that Christmas at Claythorpe, I had never set eyes on you, you’ll understand. But something…what do you call it? Oui, feminine intuition told me that you were her mother. You were always very good with her. Far better than I would ever be. And of course, you saved her life that dreadful day.”
“I would have done that for any child.”
“Perhaps. But she has a look about her. She certainly has your eyes.”
I tried to read her expression. Was she angry to discover who I was? Did she hate my presence in her home? I remembered Brett and Mrs Holland telling me about her impatience with Emily, the fact she couldn’t tolerate the liveliness, the noise of a young child.
“Her birth seems such a long time ago now,” I said.
“It must have been a shock for you to meet Brett again.”
I couldn’t hold back my laughter. “I almost fainted.”
“If I remember, you did,” she smiled weakly.
“But that was for another reason.” I grinned and then my amusement faded. “How do you feel about me?”
She studied me and her eyes seemed like dark pools. A gentle breeze moved the soft curls from her forehead. “I am pleased to meet you at last.”
“You don’t mind me being in your home?”
“I knew you were Emily’s mother before you came to Standford Park and you are still very welcome here.
“Thank you,” I murmured. “Does Brett know you know?”
“He doesn’t but I shall tell him after luncheon.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, wonderful. Then the air will be clear between us.”
She grimaced. “It will make him feel very uncomfortable, but not for long I think.” She gave a bright smile. “You got on well with Mrs Holland, oui?”
“She was a lovely lady. And she thought so highly of you.”
“We were very fond of each other. I’m pleased she left you her home. I know that you will honour her memory by respecting it.”
“Yes, I will.” I took in a deep breath. “I always loved that house.”
We headed back for our luncheon.
And after luncheon Angelique summoned Brett to her room and he spent a good hour in discussion with her. As she had surmised he was taken aback and when he joined me in the drawing room he seemed surprised but more relaxed.
“Perhaps it’s for the best,” he said. He kissed my lips. “No more secrets.”
The following day while Emily was at her lessons, I went for a walk alone thinking over my conversation with Lady Shelbrook. She was such a kind, thoughtful woman and I was glad she knew about me. But Brett was wrong about ‘no more secrets’. She didn’t know that I was Brett’s mistress? I doubted she would be pleased about that. Perhaps I should leave. Danny would be missing me and at the end of October Diamond would be getting married. And then there was Ruth’s baby the following month. But I couldn’t bear to leave Brett. Our nights together were wonderful. I would wait for him to slip into bed with me and hold me close, kissing away my troubles. We didn’t always make love. Sometimes we would fall asleep in each other’s arms, enjoying the comfort of being together.
I decided to return to the house since rain seemed to be threatening. Entering the hall I spied an envelope resting on a silver salver and glanced at the name on the front. Miss Emmeline Barri, Standford Park, Wiltshire was written in flowing script, so I lifted the flap and drew out the thin piece of paper.
I read it, anger welling up inside me. Laughter echoed from the pretty parlour where we always had our morning coffee and I stuffed the letter in my pocket, quickly crossed the floor and opened the door.
“Oh, here she is,” smiled Lady Shelbrook. “Just in time for coffee.”
She poured me a cup and I took it, sinking down next to her on the couch.
“Did you enjoy your walk?” asked Brett.
I nodded. “Yes, I went to the temple and sat inside for a while.”
“Oui, such a peaceful place,” nodded Angelique and added, “A letter came for you.”
“Yes, someone has written me a verse,” I said, sipping my drink.
“A verse,” repeated Angelique. She gave a merry laugh. “Do you mean a love poem! Goodness me, do you have a secret admirer in the house. You must read it to us, or is it too private?”
“I don’t think it’s private,” I whispered.
I placed my coffee cup on the table and went into my pocket. My eyes misted over as I looked at the words again. I glanced up. Brett and Angelique smiled at me, waiting.
I cleared my throat.
My thoughts are firmly fixed on you
To even up the score
For when I’ve
done with you, my girl
You’ll sing your songs no more
I shivered and looked up. Their expressions had completely changed.
“Whoever it is, certainly gets the message across,” I said, my voice feeling gritty in my throat.
Brett held out his hand and I gave him the note. His eyes swept over it.
“Damn it! If it’s one of the servants playing games they will be dismissed immediately.”
“But who could possibly write such a terrible thing?” said Angelique.
“I’ll make enquiries,” he said and headed for the door.
I watched him leave, my mind spinning.
“People can be so cruel,” said Angelique. “Do you have any inkling who it might be? Someone in the theatre, perhaps?”
I shrugged. “Well, there are rivalries in the theatre world, of course. And that can lead to envy and bitterness. But no, I can’t think of anyone.”
Angelique squeezed my hand. “It’s a stupid prank, Isabelle. My husband will get to the bottom of it, rest assured.”
Later that day, Brett and I discussed the strong possibility of the note coming from Jane. Wisely, he urged me to inform the police since the message did harbour malicious intent. But unwisely, I declined. I couldn’t bear the thought of being caught up in a police investigation and convinced him it was all a silly game and that Jane and the threat should be ignored.
When a letter arrived from Nan with a note enclosed from Gwilym, I forgot the incident entirely.
Nan told me news of the family and how Danny was enjoying his school. He had made many friends and often they would call to play cricket in the park. He’s a popular boy, wrote Nan and then added, You did the right thing by sending him to prep school.
Then I read Gwilym’s note. He told me that the drug digitalis was prepared from foxgloves and was used to stimulate the heart and therefore, was prescribed extensively for patients with heart disease or a heart condition.
I read the words with dismay. Brett had always told me that Angelique suffered from ‘nerves’. In fact, everyone thought that Angelique suffered from nerves. At Claythorpe, Eloise had said that Lady Shelbrook became overwrought and anxious and the doctors said it was all down to her sensitive nature.
I decided to pay a visit to Angelique’s room after dinner when Brett had gone to the stables to check on the spring foals.
She was sitting up in bed, a shawl round her shoulders when I entered the room and she waved away her maid and told her to come back when she rang.
“You visit me again. How nice,” she said, patting the mattress.
I made myself comfortable. “I think we should talk.”
Her blue eyes became wide with surprise. “Is there something wrong?”
I gestured at the medicine beside her bed. “My brother is a doctor and I’ve discovered that digitalis is a drug given to patients with a heart condition.”
She sank back against the pillows a smile hovering round her lips. “You’ve discovered my little secret, Isabelle.”
“Secret?”
“That my heart is not…healthy.”
“You are ill? I knew there was something wrong, I could see it. But why does everyone think you suffer from nerves? And why doesn’t Brett know about your illness?”
“Because I don’t wish him to know. Because I don’t wish anyone to know.” She narrowed her eyes as if studying me. “Only a few people know the truth. My doctor, of course. My maid through necessity and now, you.”
“I don’t understand,” I said, shaking my head.
“It’s simple. The doctor has told me that I have one of those rare heart conditions that could take my life at any time. I could die in my sleep tonight or I could live another twenty years. I don’t want my husband to worry about me or feel tied to a marriage that is not a marriage.”
“But you must not keep it from him.”
She nodded. “Had he ended our marriage I would have felt relieved and no doubt returned to France. But he did not and so I can only wish him to live life to the full. I want him to be happy and he wouldn’t be happy if he knew my illness was serious.”
“You’ve asked your doctor to keep it confidential?”
“Oui. And he has out of respect for me.”
My thoughts turned to Emily. “Is that why you suggested Brett father a child?”
She smiled. “He wanted a child and he knew I couldn’t bear him one. But he never spoke of it for fear of distressing me. I persuaded him that he must make a baby with a young, healthy woman and then the child could live here at Standford Park. And Emily has been a joy to him.”
I took her hand, tears welling up causing me pain. “You are so thoughtful. A wife in a million, I think. But you must tell him about your illness, he has a right to know and then he’ll understand why you must be confined to bed so often.”
She shook her head. “No, he must not know. Please, keep my secret, Isabelle and I will keep yours.”
“My secret?”
She glanced away and when she turned back her smile was hardly discernible. “The truth that you are my husband’s mistress.”
“You know?” I cleared my throat of the choking sensation. “I’m sorry…I will leave…I wouldn’t want…”
“Dear Isabelle. Please don’t disconcert yourself. I’m happy about it. No, more than that, I’m grateful that it is so.”
“You are?”
“My husband has needs that are perfectly natural. It is the way with men, they need the comfort of a woman. It’s good that it’s you that shares his bed.”
I felt stunned. “Not many wives would agree to their husbands taking a mistress.”
“No,” she agreed. “Even so, men have mistresses. Your Princess Alexandra must put up with the Prince of Wales and his amours. However, this is different. My husband is not spending his time with women of dubious reputation or with members of the aristocracy who would gossip and laugh at me for my failings. No, he has chosen you and I’m content.” I tried to speak but she stopped me with a finger over my lips. “I want you to be with him. You gave him a child and have earned the right to be his lover. Go to your room, Isabelle and wait for him to come to you and when he makes love to you remember it is with my knowledge and approval.”
“A birthday party?”
Brett and I were in the garden waiting for Emily to finish her morning’s lessons before he took her riding. He was dressed in riding clothes and as he spoke he tapped his whip against his boots. A habit he was unaware of but one I had come to notice.
“It’s been planned for some time, but I often wondered if Angelique would be well enough to attend a party for her birthday. Now she tells me that you must stay and be her special guest. Everyone has been invited. Lord and Lady Waltham, Eloise Babbington, the Marquess of Salisbury. Sir Joshua and his wife. Of course, I told her that you want to go home the day after tomorrow and staying a further week would be out of the question.” He looked at me expectantly.
“You want me to stay, don’t you?”
He coughed. “It would be wonderful if you did.”
I looked across at the flowerbeds, a glorious profusion of colour and thought it over. It would mean that my stay at Standford Park would have lasted three weeks instead of two. But would that matter? My time was my own. I turned my head to look at the man standing close to me, his smile soft as he waited for my reply. I hadn’t told him that his wife knew about us, not wanting to alarm him or make him feel guilty. And he would feel guilty, I knew that for sure.
For some strange reason, Angelique’s approval of our affair had quelled any guilty feelings of my own and in fact, had heightened my arousal considerably. After leaving her that extraordinary night, I had indeed gone to my room and waited for Brett. My desire for him had been overwhelming and I had given myself to him passionately, lifting my body to meet his with cries of pleasure that surprised even me.
“May I invite Danny? And Diamond and Nan?”
“All your fa
mily may come, if you wish.”
“I’ll telegraph them immediately,” I said.
I was very happy over the next week as I helped to organise the remaining few things that were needed for the ball. Brett stood back amused at my friendship with his wife. But, of course, he didn’t know the truth.
Everything was arranged. I had received a letter from Nan saying that she intended to stay behind to take care of Ruth, but Diamond, Gwilym and Danny would come from the capital by train.
Now and again thoughts of Andrew crossed my mind and I wondered how he was and if he was happy back at Covent Garden. After the party, I would return to London with the family and pay him a visit. Now that I was contented I wanted to make amends for the pain I had caused him. If anything I would like us to be friends again.
The day before the ball everyone arrived and the house became like Waterloo Station. Lord and Lady Waltham’s party was the first to arrive.
Abigail held out her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you again, Mrs Asquith.”
I took her hand and noticed the pleasant smile, her bright blue eyes unable to hide her feisty nature. She looked as though she had something naughty planned, but she was certainly growing into a beautiful girl now that she had stopped scowling.
Angelique tried to take control. “Now, off to the nursery you two. Nanny Dorval is waiting for you.”
Emily and Abigail ran upstairs and then we greeted Lord and Lady Waltham and Eloise. It was wonderful seeing them again, but when Danny, Gwilym and Diamond arrived later that afternoon I felt as though I was in heaven.
There were so many of us at dinner that evening that it looked like a state banquet as Sir Joshua and Lady Portland had arrived, followed by the Marquess of Salisbury.
I have never known a happier home than Standford Park, the day of Angelique’s birthday. The party would be held in the ballroom and I had peeped into this room and smiled at its opulence. Decorated in blue and silver, with three wonderful chandeliers hanging below a richly painted ceiling depicting fruit, game and stone jugs of flowing wine, it seemed to stretch right along one wing of the building. The orchestra would be seated on a dais and the buffet table would extend right round the room against the wall. Even so, there was still plenty of space for dancing.