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A Shameful Secret

Page 19

by Anne Ireland


  “Oh, Charlotte, that is a wonderful idea,” Hester said. “Yes, I could give her a home of her own, couldn’t I? I could visit her there and know that she was being looked after as she ought to be.” It was not as good as having her child to live with her, but it was the next best thing. “Thank you so much. I shall talk to Paul about it very soon.”

  “Yes, well, I am sure that he will not deny you, Hester. You are very fortunate in your choice of a husband, my dearest.”

  Charlotte went away as the maid entered with Hester’s breakfast tray. Soon after, she received a visit from her future mother-in-law, who also brought her a gift, this time a beautiful piece of lace wrapped in paper and scented with lavender.

  “This was given to me by my mother,” Lady Longstanton told her with a smile. “I have kept it by me, for I thought I might use it for a Christening robe, but my mother-in-law gave me a robe for Paul’s Christening, and I did not have another child. I thought that you might like to use if for your first child.”

  “That is so kind of you,” Hester said. “It is beautiful, and I shall certainly have it made into a Christening robe.”. Although not for her first child. Hester felt a little guilty that Lady Longstanton had not been told the truth. She would have preferred to be open with her, but Paul had advised against it. “You and Lord Longstanton have already given me so many gifts—and Paul, of course. He is the best present I could ever have.”

  “What a sweet girl, you are. I am so glad that Paul found you, my dear. I know that you will make him happy, and that means that I shall always love you as my daughter.”

  Hester kissed her and she went away. Lady Longstanton’s visit was followed by one from Hester’s mother, who also brought her a small gift.

  “This was given me by someone of whom I was fond,” she said with a little blush and pushed a rather old and faded velvet box at Hester. “I have never worn it for Mr. Weston would not have been pleased to see it—but I always kept it hidden.”

  Hester opened the box to find a diamond pendent in the shape of a heart. It was beautiful, set in reddish gold with a loop to hang it from a ribbon about her throat.

  “This is lovely, Mama,” Hester said, looking at her curiously. “Who gave it to you?”

  “The gentleman I ought to have married,” Araminta said and sighed. “He must have beggared himself to buy me this for he had hardly any money. He was the third son of a country gentleman and had to earn his living as a doctor—but he was kind and generous, and I have often wished I had disobeyed my mother and married him.”

  “Poor Mama,” Hester said. “It is good of you to give it to me—but are you sure you wish to part from it?”

  “Yes, of course. I always meant it for you one day. I hope when you look at it you will not think too harshly of me?”

  “I shall not think harshly of you at all,” Hester said and kissed her. “Thank you, dearest Mama. I pray you will not think of the past at all. It is over and cannot hurt us now if we do not let it.”

  “Yes, we must hope so,” Mrs Weston said and smiled. “You are a good girl, Hester, and you deserve to be happy. I shall leave you now, for it is time for you to get ready. You will not want to keep Paul waiting.”

  “No, I must not keep him waiting,” Hester agreed. Feeling a little flutter of butterflies in her stomach, she turned to her maid as her mother went out. She had no real fears, for this marriage was everything she wanted, but still she could not quite control a few nerves. “I am ready now, Anna.”

  The young woman smiled at her. First, she brought Hester her silk shift, and then the three petticoats she needed to wear under her voluminous wedding gown, which was a beautiful ivory lace creation that fitted into her waist and then blossomed into wide skirts with a small train at the back. Once she was dressed in her petticoats, Anna dressed her hair high on her head, allowing one ringlet to fall on her creamy shoulders. Her hair was dressed with flowers and ribbons, and Anna helped her to fasten the string of pearls that Paul had given her as a wedding present. She decided to secure the diamond heart her mother had given her to the pearls, and wore the diamond drops Paul’s father had given her in her ears.

  “You look beautiful, Miss Weston,” the maid said. “I must wish you happy, and that is the wish of us all at the Hall.”

  “Thank you, you are so kind,” Hester said. She had already received the gift of a beautiful wooden sewing box from the staff and had thanked them through the housekeeper. “I am such a lucky girl.”

  “I’m sure you deserve it, miss.”

  Hester smiled, feeling her throat tighten as she prepared to go downstairs. Just as she was ready to leave, a knock came at her door. Charlotte had returned to see if she was ready.

  “Oh, my love,” Charlotte said. “You are beautiful, quite beautiful. I think Paul will believe himself a fortunate man to have secured such a bride.”

  “Oh no, I am the lucky one,” Hester said, but her cousin smiled and shook her head. She picked up the bouquet of white roses and scented lilies that Paul had sent her, preparing to leave.

  “Are you wearing your blue garter for luck?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes, thank you, and I have a lace handkerchief that Ellie lent me.”

  “Very well, I shall go down now and tell them that you are coming.”

  Hester waited for two minutes and then followed her cousin down. Her mother and Charlotte were waiting together with her brother Robert, who was to give her away. He grinned at her, seeming pleased with himself.

  “You look very nice, Hetty,” he said and kissed her cheek. “You’ve done us proud, love. I’m glad you’re happy at last.”

  “Thank you, Robbie,” she said. “I hope you will find happiness yourself soon.”

  “Oh, I shall rub along very nicely,” her brother said. “Can’t say I’m in a hurry to settle down just yet—but we’ll see.”

  They went out to the waiting carriage, where most of the staff had gathered to see Hester off. The family had gone on ahead to wait at the church, only Charlotte and Robert remaining to escort the bride.

  The bridesmaids were young girls and all related to the Longstanton family in some way. Hester knew them only by name and sight, as Janet and Sarah, but they made a fuss of her when she arrived at the church, arranging her dress at the back and smiling at her.

  She began the long walk down the aisle to where Paul was waiting for her. He had one of his cousins as his best man, for the honor would have gone to Josh Farnham had he not been on his own honeymoon. As she took her place by his side, Hester happened to glance to her right and saw a man standing just behind one of the massive stone pillars. Her heart raced as she recognized him as Henry Blackwater, and wondered what he was doing at her wedding. She had not invited him, and she did not think that Paul had either.

  However, in the next moment, she saw Paul smiling at her, and she forgot about the unwanted guest as the ceremony began. When it came time for the Vicar to ask that any man having cause to deny the marriage should speak now, Hester held her breath. Would someone stand up and denounce her as the mother of an illegitimate child?

  Thankfully, the moment passed without incident, and then she and Paul were signing the registry before walking out of church to the sound of bells proclaiming them man and wife. Outside, tenants and village people met them, and joined in the custom of showering them with rose petals and paper confetti. An anxious mother pushed forward a small girl to present the bride with a straw doll bedecked with flowers, and another gave her a horseshoe tied with blue ribbons.

  Then Paul was taking her arm, urging her into the carriage. As the horses moved off, he drew her into his arms, kissing her tenderly on the lips and caressing her cheek with his fingertips.

  “My lovely bride,” he said in a voice husky with emotion. “At last you are mine—to have and to hold until death us do part.”

  “Paul . . .” She tangled her fingers in his hair as he kissed her, responding as passionately as she had in bed the previous nig
ht. “I am so happy . . . so very happy.”

  “I have decided to go down to my own estate this evening,” Paul told her. “We shall spend a few days there before we set out on our wedding trip. I thought we might go to Italy—if that appeals to you, my dearest? But first I want you to see your new home, and then you may order any changes you want made before we return.”

  Hester smiled up at him. She had hoped that she might find a way of seeing her daughter very soon, but if they were to go abroad, that might have to be delayed for some months. However, now was not the time to remind Paul that she had other concerns.

  Many of the house servants had lined up outside the Hall to welcome her home, and they too showered her with dried rose petals and lavender. They cheered as Paul swept her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. And then they stood with Mrs. Weston and Paul’s parents to welcome the guests to the magnificent reception. Some of the guests had come only for the wedding, and Hester had not yet been introduced to them. She struggled to remember all their names, but when it came to the family, she fared better.

  “Ah, there you are, m’dear,” Uncle Staunton said when his turn came. He kissed her on both cheeks. “My word, you’re a beauty. I hope Paul appreciates his good fortune?”

  “Yes, I am sure he does, uncle,” Hester said and blushed. “I am very lucky too, you know.”

  “Well, he ain’t a bad fellow,” his uncle said with a twinkle in his eye. “But if I were a few years younger, I’d have cut him out.”

  At last, all the guests had arrived and the footmen were circulating with trays of champagne. A huge buffet had been lain in the dining room, but the tables and chairs overflowed into the gardens. The ballroom had been cleared to allow for dancing after the meal, and everyone strolled about with a glass in their hand for sometime before beginning to separate into groups and eat the delicious food.

  “And now I would like to offer a toast to the bride and groom.”

  Uncle Staunton stood up and gave a long, witty and slightly wicked speech before asking them to lift their glasses. Charlotte made a very brief speech about how much she loved her cousin, and wished them both a long and happy life.

  When Paul stood to reply to the speeches, a loud crashing sound occurred at the back of the room, and when everyone turned to look, it was seen that a man had smashed a tray of glasses quite deliberately. Several people gasped, and Hester’s heart caught as she saw who it was.

  “How does it feel to be married to a whore, Crawford?” Henry Blackwater spoke into the sudden silence.

  The color drained from Hester’s face, for everyone was staring at him in horror, transfixed by the terrible accusation. She sat like a frozen statue as Paul’s mouth thinned and a little pulse started to beat at his temple. She saw his hands curl into tight fists as if he would like to strike someone.

  “I fear I do not understand you, Blackwater,” Paul replied in an icy tone. “To my knowledge you were not invited to this wedding.”

  “The ghoul at the feast?” Blackwater’s mouth curved in sneer of derision. “Perhaps you were afraid that something like this might happen. Or do you deny that she is a whore?”

  “I must ask you to explain your reasons for insulting my wife, and then I shall demand satisfaction,” Paul said his eyes glittering. “It is time there was a showdown between us, for I believe you once tried to kill me. And we both know why, do we not? It was you who supplied faulty cannon to the army and are therefore guilty of the deaths of several men.”

  “Had I been the one who shot at you, you would be dead,” Henry Blackwater replied. “However, it will be my pleasure to meet you when and wherever you wish. As for your accusations, they are ridiculous—and the woman you have married, I call her a whore because when she was but eighteen she gave birth to a daughter. That daughter lives in a hovel for the family disowned her.”

  Hester felt sick, the shame washing over her. Mrs. Weston’s face was stricken, and Charlotte looked as if she wanted to kill the man who had set out to ruin Hester’s wedding day and her life. However, Paul laughed, giving an impression of a man much amused.

  “And you like the blackguard, and fool you are have the wrong end of the stick,” he said. “I suppose you are speaking of Sylvia—the child I have recently decided to adopt?” Blackwater’s eyes bulged as Paul chuckled, highly amused it seemed. “It may interest you to know that the girl is mine by a former mistress.” He turned to Hester, his expression suddenly contrite. “I must beg you to forgive me, dearest. I meant to tell you about it and to ask if you could bear to acknowledge the child—but I thought it would keep until after we were married.”

  “Paul . . .” she whispered. Her throat was tight and the tears were threatening to well over. She could not answer him, could not lie as he would have her lie, but to admit the truth would ruin them both. Pushing back her chair, she got to her feet and ran from the room in distress. Behind her, she could hear shouting and angry voices, and one of the loudest was Uncle Staunton’s.

  “Blackguard! You, sir, are no gentleman, and I will have you thrashed as you deserve. How dare you make filthy insinuations about that girl?”

  Hester could not bear the shame of being denounced in front of all those people, nor Paul’s lies to defend her. He should not have had to do that—and on his wedding day of all days. She ought never to have put him into such a humiliating position. She ought never to have married him. She had known it was wrong, and now she had brought shame and scandal to his family for no one would believe him when he said the child was his. They would admire him for defending her, but some would call him a fool and laugh behind his back.

  Hester rushed up the stairs and flung herself down on the bed to weep. The tears came thick and fast for she could not stop them.

  “Hester, dearest.” It was only a moment or two before she heard Charlotte’s voice from the door, for she had not thought to lock it. “Do not break your heart over this nonsense. Paul will manage it.”

  Hester sat up, turning to stare at her with reddened eyes. “How can you think I want him to risk his life over this? It is all my fault, Charlotte. I should never have married him. It was wicked of me.”

  “Are you admitting that that man’s accusation is true?”

  Hester looked past her cousin to Lady Longstanton, and her heart sank for there was a look of anger and dislike in her face that made her wish herself a thousand miles away.

  “Ellie . . . Lady Longstanton . . .” The gentle lady who had begged her to call her Ellie had gone, in her place a woman who could not conceal her outrage and disgust. “Please . . . I never meant . . .” she choked on a sob for her honesty would not let her lie and the shame was overwhelming. “Paul knew . . . he said it did not matter . . .”

  “If he said that, my son is a fool,” Lady Longstanton said coldly. “You have brought scandal to our family, Hester, and I am not sure that I can ever forgive you. If my son is killed in this wicked duel . . .”

  “No!” Hester cried, fear clutching at her heart. “You must not let him. You must tell him to stop. I do not want him to die for my sake. I would rather go away and never see him again.”

  “Yes, that is what you must do,” Lady Longstanton said. “If you leave now while all this nonsense is going on, it may soon be forgotten. No one will think the worse of Paul for trying to defend you, for what gentleman would not? But you must see that you cannot continue as his wife after this? He would become a laughing stock. His reputation would be ruined—and in time, he would come to hate you.”

  Hester stared at her in dismay. Leave Paul? How could she bear to do that on her wedding day? It would tear the heart from her, and yet as she looked into her mother-in-law’s cold eyes, she knew she must find the strength to do it because Lady Longstanton was right. If she disappeared, Paul could have the marriage annulled and then he would be free to marry again. He would not need to fight this senseless duel.

  “Yes, very well,” she said in a voice that barely reached
a whisper. “I shall go if you will help me.”

  “No, Hester, you must not run away,” Charlotte said, catching her arm as she started towards the door. “Paul would not want you to go. You know he loves you.”

  “Yes, he loves me,” Hester said, “and I love him. I love him too much to ruin his life. Lady Longstanton is right. If I leave now, it will be a nine-day wonder, and then people will forget, but if I stay . . .” She choked back a sob looking at the woman who had once been kind to her but now looked as if she hated her. “My clothes are packed and ready. Would you order them taken to the carriage so that I may leave as quickly as possible? Your carriage and horses shall be returned to you as soon as I am settled.”

  “You may keep them,” Lady Longstanton said, and for a moment, there was regret and a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “You may have need of them, and we have others. I respect you for having the courage to do what you know is right, Hester. I am sorry that it had to come to this.”

  “It was not your fault,” Hester said with quiet dignity. She turned to Charlotte. “I shall go to the house you gave me—though I have no right to it now.”

  “You have every right,” Charlotte said. “You are Lady Crawford, and you should not forget it. I think you are a fool to do this, Hester, but if you wish it, I shall accompany you.”

  “No, thank you, dearest Charlotte. Come to me in a week or two if you will, but for the moment, I need to be alone.”

  “My poor Hester,” Charlotte said. “If you will not let me comfort you, I must go and comfort your mother, for I think she is near to collapse.”

  “Tell her I am sorry for shaming her,” Hester said. “All I want is that she—and you, ma’am—may find it in your heart to forgive me.”

  She picked up a small bag lying on her bed, and the cloak she was to have worn that night, and walked to the door. There, she turned to look back at Lady Longstanton.

 

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