Endless Time
Page 25
To Charles it seemed as if Caro’s blue eyes had clouded into stormy gray. Her voice trembled as she said, ‘Do not tell Antony. It would do no good, and might even cause much harm.’
But if she is responsible for this frightful thing, she should not go unpunished,’ Charles began. Once accepted, the notion could not be left to rest. If she could be proven guilty, the evil-doer must be made to pay for her crime. That was justice, as well as the law.
Karen flashed back at him. ‘No! There’s no proof. And he has suffered so much already. We must not rake over the dead past and bring it to life again without excellent reason.’
He thought they had a very excellent reason and was about to say so when he glanced at Amanda’s face, and decided to let well alone. The room had begun to feel unpleasantly warm to him. Or was his discomfort caused by the currents of emotion swirling about him? He liked a peaceful breakfast to start the day.
Karen said, ‘I have told you this because I believe someone should know what Sybilla is capable of. If anything should happen to me, I want Chloe protected. She is Jenny’s child, and I will not have her at that woman’s mercy.’
‘I hardly think that she will dare attack you again, now that we know her for what she is.’ Charles was able to feel comfortably superior once more. Females could enjoy these occasional flashes of intuitive knowledge, but their thought processes were not designed to follow through in an orderly manner.
Karen suddenly smiled and seemed to put off her somber thoughts. ‘No doubt you are right. Let us talk of other matters. Have you had word from Antony upon his journeyings?’
He said, repressively, ‘I regret that I have not. His Lordship does not normally communicate with me unless there is an urgent matter requiring my attention.’
‘What humbug, Charles,’ Amanda chided. ‘A wife is naturally concerned with her husband’s welfare when he is abroad from his home.’
Karen looked at her sharply. ‘He is not abroad. He has gone north on business.’
‘That is what I said, my dear.’ Amanda’s face cleared. ‘Oh, I see. “Abroad” simply means “away” or “absent”. You must have forgot.’
Charles was surprised at how shaken Caro looked, even as she agreed that she had made a simple slip. Surely there was no way she could know. He alone enjoyed Antony’s confidence – just he and one other man in an office so exalted there could be no doubting his integrity. Nevertheless, he would be glad when Antony returned. Matters were bad indeed on the Continent, and he had been slipping back and forth often enough for someone to have perhaps noted his movements. There could come a time when he would be in the wrong place at the right moment for his enemies – and Charles would find himself secretary to Basil, the new Viscount Marchmont. Heaven forbid!
He excused himself soon after, secure in the knowledge that the two ladies would be spending the morning in Caro’s studio, with Amanda as her sitter. They would return to the house to lunch at three.
He dealt with the waiting correspondence and untangled a minor domestic crisis, then took a turn in the garden, his thoughts dwelling pleasantly on his beloved.
He had not seen Sybilla that day, and it came as an unwelcome surprise to hear her voice close by. He stopped and looked about him.
A screen of bushes separated him from the stone seat where Antony had disclosed his private worried. He realized he had wandered from the path, and could not be seen. Only for a moment did he hesitate. A gentleman did not spy. Today he would not be a gentleman.
It soon became clear that Sybilla was talking to her brother, and she spoke low and hurriedly, as if she feared being overheard.
‘I can wait no longer. Your stupid scheme to have her committed as a madwoman could never have come to anything. I have discovered there is no divorce permitted between husband and wife if one party is thrown into Bedlam. Of what use would that be to me?’
Basil seemed amused. It raised Charles’ hackles just to hear his sneering tone.
‘It might have done little for your purpose, dear sister. But it would greatly have enhanced my chances of inheriting our cousin’s consequence. ‘Tis inconceivable that he would again essay matrimony, should his wife die while incarcerated in an institution for the insane – which is something that could be easily arranged, I’ll warrant.’
Charles’ response surprised him. Normally slow to anger, and cynical enough about human nature, he found he was shaking with passion. He longed for a horsewhip, or better, a sword. Restraining himself, he listened further.
Sybilla was shrill with throttled rage. ‘That is so like you, to think only of your own needs. Well, you have not been so clever after all. Caroline has recovered her wits well enough, and walks very carefully upon the stairs. She also locks her chamber door at night. We must hit upon another scheme with all speed. When Antony returns he must find his wife gone, and in such a manner that it appears she has run away from him to another man. That will finish her with him.’
‘Jack Thornton, her old lover.’
‘Why not? ‘Twould be the very thing. I can write a note for Antony in a fair copy of her hand. Such a cruel blow to his pride would banish any desire to go in her pursuit.’ Her voice curled lovingly about the words.
Charles had the fancy that he was listening to a snake, the venom dripping over its forked tongue to give each syllable a deadly coating.
‘Would you kill her, sister?’ Basil seemed surprised at the strength of her hatred. ‘This is not our dear Antony, whom we so love. We speak of his wife only. And you are aware that there is a vast difference between pushing her down stairs, or leaving her exposed in the winter night, and what must be inevitably revealed as murder, should the plan fail. It would be highly dangerous.’
‘I am not such a fool as to run my head into a noose. The plan will not fail, if you will do as I bid you; and Caro, sweet, beautiful Caro will not die. But she might wish for death before long.’ She lingered over the words, relishing them, then went on. ‘You will take her by surprise in that place she calls a studio. There will be no one there to help her. Knock her senseless and have her carried away to the docks. I know of a man there who procures for me the herbs and other matters I need from Jamaica. He will keep her hid until she can be smuggled aboard ship and sold abroad into slavery – a very particular form of slavery that I do not think she will find to her liking.’
Basil began to laugh. ‘You know of a man… My dear sister, you are without price.’
‘And you, brother, are without hair or wit. This is no laughing matter. She knows I am her enemy and will take precautions. And the very minute Antony sets foot within the door she will tell him. This is our final chance. Do you not agree? Or do you lack the stomach for such enterprise?’
He must have hesitated. ‘’Tis dangerous. If Antony discovers our conspiracy he will have our necks stretched for us. But the reward is great. Very well. Our cousin will be napped and stowed before the week is out. I, too, “know a man”.’
‘I do not doubt it. But make haste. Antony may return at any moment.’ She paused. ‘There is a small matter: Jack Thornton. ‘Twould be useless to make it known that Caro has run off with him, then have him seen about town and in his clubs.’
‘Why do you think I suggest his name? He is on the point of sailing for Val Pareiso in South America – some matter of an estate left by a relative. Do not fear. There will be no loose ties to this package. But what is my reward to be?’
‘Why, what it always was – to inherit all upon Antony’s demise.’
‘And when will that be, sister?’
‘Ah. I see. Well, brother, you have no choice but to possess your soul in patience. If anything of a fatal nature were to occur to my beloved I should know how to act. He is mine, and no hand shall touch him but mine. You understand me?’
Never had Charles heard less lover-like tones. He shuddered. Even his unimaginative nature could envisage the kind of future Sybilla had in mind for her ‘beloved’ Antony. How could they ha
ve been so deceived in her?
‘And, Basil, there is the fact that with Caroline gone there will be no brat in her image to stand in your way.’
Charles strained his ears in the silence that followed. But nothing more was said. Both brother and sister understood each other too well. He drew further into the bushes and waited until their footsteps had retreated along the path to the house. Then he took a deep breath and wiped his forehead with his kerchief.
He had seldom been privileged to overhear such villainy, and he scarce knew what to do with the knowledge. Antony should be told, but he was not available; and Charles himself was not in such a position of authority that he could accuse the plotters and have them held without proof. He hesitated to warn Caro. She was of such a volatile nature he could not guess what her reaction would be. Perhaps to tax the two, who would then quite possibly attempt to silence her forever. What to do?
Lord Edward? No, he was too old and too far away. In the circumstances, the Honorable George could safely be dismissed. Should he hire men to watch over Caro? Whom could he trust? Unlike Basil and Sybilla, he did not number hired villains amongst his acquaintance.
He took his problem with him into his workroom.
*
In her studio, Karen mixed paints and thought about the composition she had sketched. The canvas had been stretched and placed on the easel, and a wash background applied. Now she was ready to begin outlining the portrait.
Glancing up at her model, she paused and said in a mock stern voice that masked uneasiness, ‘Amanda, I want to bring up something which may embarrass you. I hope you will let me say it all without interruption.’
Amanda dropped the rose she was holding poised above a vase and turned her head. She looked mischievous.
‘You terrify me, my dear. Have you uncovered my sordid past? There was a music master at my school whom I hero-worshipped for a whole six months. I even took up study of the violin for his sake, much to my father’s distress. However, my youthful passion could not survive the vision of poor Mr. Hasluck falling into a horse trough, his wig floating away from a pate as pink and shining as a strawberry milk pudding.’ She crowed at the memory of her disillusionment.
‘You really are the most awful chatterbox!’ Karen threw down her palette and advanced on her friend.
Amanda still rocked with mirth. ‘I beg your pardon. It was the sight of his wig, so brown, so exquisitely curled, floating in the hay and scum like a water rat which had lost its way.’
Grinning, Karen took Amanda’s face between her palms, returning her to her pose. This morning her dress was unusually subdued, apricot muslin over an under dress of cream, with small flat bows running from neck to hemline. She had protested to Karen unavailingly. The favorite red velvet driving dress had been pronounced unsuitable, and that was that.
Returning to her canvas, Karen started work. ‘Listen, and rest your tongue. I simply wish to tell you how much I value you as a friend. I never before had a close companion. When I was growing up I seemed always to be moving about so much. It was easier to be a loner.’
Brown eyes softening, Amanda said, ‘I have seen the loneliness of your soul. ‘Tis written in your face for those who care to look. You were torn from your companions once too often, I collect, and to protect yourself from pain you abjured all intimacy.’
‘You’re right, as always. Where do you get your insight, Amanda? Never mind. Just lift the rose a little, will you? That’s perfect. I was in a state of shock for some months after my parents died so horribly. The people at the home were good to me, I suppose. I don’t really remember. And my first fostering family were kind enough. Then Mr. Yeats lost his job and had to travel about looking for work. I was enrolled in five schools before I turned ten. Eventually the Yeats were forced to send me back, and I lived with a cottage family before being taken by the Martins. She was a discontented shrew with a faithless husband. They fought so much that my hardening opinion of all relationships ended up setting like cement.’
‘Cement?’
‘A form of liquid building material that hardens in the air.’
‘I comprehend perfectly. The joys of friendship were outweighed by the pain of inevitable parting; and your child’s view of married bliss was a jaundiced one. Pray continue.’
‘By the time I entered my teens I’d grown the toughest shell… Blast it! I’m talking to you in modern clichés! I must be more upset than I knew.’ The brush slipped from her hand and she bent to pick it up, wiping it carefully on her rag. She had wanted to say ‘thank you’ without emotionalism, but it was harder than she’d realized.
Abandoning her pose, Amanda rushed up and put an arm around Karen’s waist and led her to a seat.
‘There is more than friendship between us; there is love. You should not try to thank me for something that has come about naturally. Have you not seen how you attract others to you with the energies you display? Look at Chloe, so hostile at first, so withdrawn before you came. She is a different child, and she dotes upon you unashamedly.’
Karen’s pinched look began to fade as she absorbed the words. ‘You have a lot of commonsense under that mop of hair. It’s true that Chloe is like my own daughter. And I have noticed lately that I seem to be meeting more congenial people. I don’t mean the folk at the dispensary. While some of them are fearful rogues, others could give a bishop points for honesty. I’m talking about the ton. You know, I once thought polite society consisted entirely of the vain and empty-headed. Sport and lechery, clothes and the pairing off of partners were the only interests. But you’ve shown me a different world with your entertainments in your home, the circle of friends who follow the arts. Why, you’re a British Madame Recamier!
‘And this is without your charitable interests. I know you do far more than anyone could guess to help the less fortunate, and I love and respect you for that. I also like your friends, and they appear to like me.’ She grinned. ‘Of course, I’m not everyone’s choice of dessert. There is Sybilla.’
Amanda’s shrug expressed her opinion of Sybilla. ‘That woman is incapable of giving or receiving affection. She is centered upon herself.’
‘Her genes tell against her.’
‘Your pardon?’
‘I don’t think I’ll try and explain that one.’ Karen sighed. ‘I give you my pledge that before I leave here today I will take myself in hand and revert to being a lady of the times.’
Amanda nodded. ‘’Tis best to live always in the present, for how else shall we order the future? Having been given free will to choose our path we should do so, and not be continually looking behind.’
‘You’re right. Why look back?’ Karen kissed her cheek and stood up. ‘Now, if I could trouble my model to take up the position once more?’
As she worked she thought over the conversation. It dawned on her that she was beginning to fit into her new world remarkably well. She had a circle of almost friends – people with similar interests who accepted her as she was. She had her painting and her charitable work, and Chloe and Amanda. Why wasn’t that enough?
She hastily changed her line of thought. Charles and Amanda. That situation would bear looking into. Continuing to work, she said casually, ‘You’re in love with Charles, aren’t you?’
When the silence lengthened uncomfortably she looked up at Amanda, who sat with suspiciously bright eyes and stiffened posture. ‘I’m sorry, Amanda. I have no right to pry.’
‘I do not regard your question as prying. However, I am unable to answer.’ She checked herself, pressing her lips tightly together.
Karen added a touch of shadow in the background and stood back, all her interest apparently centered on the painting. She waited.
Amanda’s voice shook. ‘Love is not a greatly valued commodity in our world. One should not wed to please oneself alone.’
‘I don’t quite understand. Are you saying that your mother would object to the match? I know that Charles is poor, but he does have prospects.’
Karen openly examined her friend’s face, but learned little from that wooden expression. ‘I have offended you. Amanda, believe me, nothing was further from my intention. I love you. You are the sister I never had. All I want is your happiness. Please, don’t shut me out of your confidence.’
Amanda hid her face in her hands. A second later she was in Karen’s arms being comforted. ‘You are one of the golden people, Amanda. You give to others, constantly and unstintingly. You deserve some happiness yourself.’
Amanda shook her head against Karen’s shoulder..
Karen continued to hold her. ‘All right. I won’t say any more. It’s your affair, and I’ll leave it to you. But please, if and when you need to talk to someone, come to me. Will you promise that?’
Amanda sat up. She had not been weeping, although she looked sad. ‘I find it difficult to speak of my own affairs. I do not intend to close you out, my dear friend.’ She sighed. ‘I should tell you that I have received the addresses of another gentleman who is both eligible and kind. I… have not rebuffed him.’
Karen swallowed before asking, ‘Will you tell Charles?’
‘Not yet. I do not know my own heart, as yet. I must consider.’
Yes, consider everyone else but yourself, thought Karen, and end up marrying the man who can look after her mother, breaking her own heart and Charles’ into the bargain. But Karen had promised to drop the subject.
She turned back to the easel. ‘I need just a few minutes more. Do you feel you can sit a little longer?’
‘Of course. My emotions may be in some disorder, but not my limbs. Let us return to work.’
Fifteen minutes later Karen laid down her brush. Amanda abandoned her pose and came to stare at the wet canvas, all the while massaging cramped muscles.
Karen grinned. ‘Well?’
‘I shall not administer to your vanity. You must be well enough aware of your talent.’ Amanda dropped the prim tone. ‘Caro, I have something to say to you. Pierre Marnie is coming to London. Not only is he intrigued by your problem, but he holds out some hope of a solution.’ She clasped Karen’s hands in hers and squeezed them. ‘My dear, I am so happy, and so sad. I do not want to lose you.’