Endless Time

by Frances Burke

  ‘That last time we met, you and that hell-born brother of yours were engaged in a plot to deliver my wife into a life of degradation.’ He spoke without emphasis, but no one could have mistaken the emotion behind the words.

  She lowered her eyelids and said softly, ‘I will admit my error. It was a mistake, born of my great passion for you, my dear one. I was outside myself with jealousy.’

  ‘Spare me talk of your passions, Sybilla. They are merely the unbridled lusts of a nature that has never known any restraint. Why did you really come here? Did you hope for money?’

  The mask had not shifted. Her beautiful face serene, she fixed her black eyes on his and smiled bewitchingly. ‘Antony, why can you not believe me? I have loved you since we first met. My heart cracked when you wed your Jenny, and totally crumbled into small pieces when Caro took her place beside you. I will admit that I was driven almost to madness, knowing I had lost you. In my dementia, I gave ear to Basil. ’Tis he who plots against your wife. He covets your position, and cannot bear to think that a child of yours might deprive him of his hopes. Thus he schemed to remove Caro, and in my great pain and need, I agreed to help him. ‘Twas monstrous. I do not know how I could contemplate such a foul deed. Oh, forgive me, Antony, my love.’

  In a movement full of grace and drama, she went on her knees before him, her gown flowing about her in a wine-colored pool, her white arms uplifted in a pleading gesture, her bosom rising and falling noticeably with each breath. She had never looked more beautiful, not more dangerously sensuous.

  He surveyed her, unmoved. In an implacable voice he said, ‘There can never be any talk of your kind of love between us. I neither like nor respect you, and I can never forgive what you have done to Caro.’

  The eyelids snapped wide open, and naked fury blazed at him. She scrambled to her feet. ‘Pah! Then I spit on your forgiveness! What milksop fluid runs in your veins in exchange for red blood? Are you, in fact, a man at all?’

  It was his turn to smile. Her efforts at seduction had foundered so quickly on the rocks of her own insecurities. He could almost feel sorry for her. But he knew her for a calculating schemer and a bitter enemy. At the thought of Caro’s probable fate if Sybilla had her way, his brief amusement turned to an ice-cold rage.

  ‘Leave this house, and do not return. If I ever find you here, or anywhere near me and mine, I will stamp you out of existence.’ He took a pace forward, and Sybilla cowered back. For the first time in his experience he saw fear of him in a woman’s face. Disliking himself for it, he nevertheless grasped her ungently by the shoulders and forced her towards the door. ‘I mean what I have said, Sybilla. If you are wise you will take Basil and leave this country altogether.’

  Her whitened face filled with blood. She pursed her lips and spat at him. Then wrenching free, she stalked into the entrance hall, snatching her cloak from the footman deputizing for the absent Bates.

  At the main door she turned. Injecting her voice with all the venom that boiled in her, she said, ‘You have not heard the last of this. Believe me, you will regret the things you have said to me this night.’

  With popping eyes, the footman ushered her out into the night and closed the door behind her. Antony had no doubt he would fly to the servants’ hall with this tidbit of news, but he didn’t care. He was sickened by the horror of the unclean spirit that possessed Sybilla. Outwardly a normal, lovely young woman, she was hopelessly flawed within, incapable of giving or receiving real affection. It was tragic.

  He did not for an instant credit her threats. There was nothing she could do to injure him personally, and he would take good care that his family was protected. Sybilla had neither money nor influence to purchase the instruments of revenge. Her challenge had no substance. But the sadness he felt had to do with a young girl who once had admired and looked up to her older male cousin – a girl whose mind was even then unsound, whose future was ruined before it began to unfold.

  *

  Two days later London was electrified with the news of Bonaparte’s invasion of Pomerania – Swedish Pomerania.

  A message came from the War Office, via Charles Hastings. Antony should prepare to leave immediately for urgent talks between Bernadotte, Crown Prince of Sweden and a very high representative of Tsar Alexander. The meeting would be most secret, and its importance could not be exaggerated. This was England’s chance to gain the allies she needed. Bonaparte just might have overstepped himself, at last.

  Antony couldn’t contain his elation. ‘Charles, this is beyond what I had hoped for. They say Davout has behaved with such severity towards the Swedish troops and officials, there will be no holding back now for Bernadotte. He must avenge his new countrymen or stand branded as a weakling, unfit to rule.’

  ‘Then to take advantage of the situation you should leave immediately. I shall make the arrangements.’ Charles spoke heavily, as though he found it difficult to be really interested.

  Recognizing this, Antony left him to his work, the planning and preparation of permits and letters of introduction under various names and nationalities, bank drafts, cash, maps, appropriate clothing – the organization of the journey to the coast, and from thereon. He knew that Charles would be thorough, whatever his personal unhappiness. There was no danger of him falling into French hands through any negligence on the part of his secretary.

  While attending an undercover meeting with Lord Liverpool, he learned that this time he would carry with him the power of the Prince Regent himself, and his Ministers of the Crown. He was to represent his country and somehow, anyhow, draw into his net the two rulers who had so far escaped Bonaparte’s iron grip.

  The War Minister himself escorted Antony to the unobtrusive exit from a house not known to be his own. He appeared to be searching for the right words.

  ‘Marchmont, a very great deal hangs on this conference. Perhaps the freedom of the world as we know it. It will be the turning point in Swedish policy, since the Crown Prince now knows exactly where he stands with Bonaparte. If Sweden goes with Russia, which I believe she will, given that the Tsar is offering the inducement of Norway as a prize, then Britain must form a triumvirate with the two. If nothing else, that will serve to encourage other waverers.’

  Antony nodded. ‘Austria and Prussia grow restive. If we can prove a strong alliance against France they could find the courage to rise against her once more. I believe that Napoleon Bonaparte will one day recognize this move on the chessboard as his first great tactical error.’

  *

  Down in Devon, Karen had the news as quickly as Antony’s courier could cover the distance. She felt as if she’d been winded, and had to sit down, disguising as well as she could the sudden onslaught of an entirely unreasonable panic. Why should this trip be any different than the others? Why should she be suddenly hit with a barrage of groundless fears? Antony was well able to care for himself; he’d proved it often enough. So, what was it about this journey that drained the blood out of her heart, leaving her faint and sick?

  She went to Lord Edward for comfort and, listening to his calm, common sense analysis of the situation, she felt a little better.

  ‘He is not going into France, my child. He will be safe in Stockholm. The Swedes may have been well disposed towards the French, but this error will alter their attitude.’

  ‘Still, we are at war with Sweden. Antony could be as much in danger there as he would be in France.’ In deference to Lord Edward she controlled the urge to pace the floor, and sat rigidly opposite his great wing chair, looking out over the winter bare gardens. The scene was as bleak as her inner view.

  ‘My dear, we may be at war, but in fact we are trading as heavily as ever. Until this invasion the Swedes had no interest in firing shots or taking prisoners. The Emperor has miscalculated badly. He has lost himself an ally, and Prince Bernadotte must be rubbing his hands in glee.’

  ‘Why? He is, after all, a Frenchman.’ She kept the conversational ball rolling, but all she really wanted was re
assurance. It seemed to her that Napoleon’s ‘miscalculation’ was simply going to lead to more fighting, and in an area where her husband might be found.

  Lord Edward smiled and patted her hand. ‘Do not distress yourself. Antony is safe, I swear it. Bernadotte has not long been elevated to his high position, and his people will be watching for him to prove his worthiness. He will ally himself with the only countries capable of helping him avoid the French yoke – England and Russia.’

  ‘I know you are right, but I cannot help viewing these momentous events from Antony’s position. He is all that matters to me.’

  ‘My dear, he is all that matters to both of us. And I do not fear for him.’ He learned forward, taking her hands in his and kissing her on the forehead. Holding her eyes with his, he repeated his reassurance, and only released her when he saw the beginning of hope in her expression.

  ‘Where is that minx, that grandchild of mine, this morning? She has not paid her usual visit to the old bear.’

  *

  Amanda posted down to Devon as soon as she had the news, and Karen received her with joy, tempered by her worry over Amanda and Charles. Her concern for Antony had to be hidden from her dear friend, or so she thought.

  Amanda soon disabused her of this idea. ‘Caro, you must try to stop Antony. This latest journey could be very dangerous for him.’ Her normally rosy cheeks were pale, and she appeared to have lost weight recently.

  Staggered, Karen simply looked at her. ‘Is nothing at all hidden from you? How did you know about Antony’s trips?’

  ‘That is unimportant. You must listen to me. Antony must not go on this mission. It will be disastrous for you both.’ Amanda’s fingers pulled at the stitching of her fur muff, systematically taking it to pieces. She hadn’t even paused to take off her hat before plunging into her speech. Fortunately, Bates had retired to supervise the removal of her baggage from the coach – an astonishing single portmanteau.

  Karen grasped her friend’s elbow and dragged her unceremoniously into the book room, shutting the door behind her with a kick. ‘Sit down, Amanda, and tell me just what you know.’

  Amanda flopped into a chair and burst into tears. ‘I cannot tell you,’ she sobbed. ‘I have not seen anything; but I have felt it, right through to my bones. There is danger and betrayal in the air. It hangs over this house like a miasma. Oh, Caro, I am afraid for you both.’

  Karen sent for her maid. She would not be lured into discussion until the fresh-faced country girl who served her so willingly had arrived and been sent to make a soothing posset. Amanda was relieved of hat and coat and ensconced near the fire. She began visibly to relax.

  ‘You must have left in a devil of a hurry, to bring only one bag. Of course, I am delighted to be honored with your presence so soon after our Christmas festivities…’

  ‘Pray, do not tease me, Caro. I am in a torment of worry. Only for you would I leave my mother ill and attended by a simple maidservant.’

  ‘Of course I won’t tease, darling. I am so very sorry about your mother. Ah, here is Lily with your posset.’ She waited until Amanda had drunk every drop, then dismissed Lily and said, ‘Right. I want the whole story, my friend. Start talking.’

  Amanda talked.

  Afterwards, upon reflection, Karen realized she’d been expecting trouble. She’d been uneasy for some time, in a vague way. Intuition? Psychic sensitivity? Whatever. Amanda was merely confirming these feelings.

  She’d long known about Amanda’s premonitions. This strange extra-sensory awareness had proved itself too often for either of them to doubt the strong message that had brought her friend rushing down to Devon.

  Amanda hunched forward in her chair. ‘I felt an indescribably fear. It came to me like a black rushing wind and enveloped me, choking the breath from my body. It was horrible.’ If possible, she grew even paler. ‘I knew it meant danger for you and Antony. That is why I have come. I had to give you a warning, however nebulous. Oh, how I wish I could be more explicit, but I cannot.’

  Karen stared at her, already infected by Amanda’s fear. ‘Do you know what Antony does, Amanda?’

  ‘I know that he will travel abroad and into danger for the sake of his country.’

  ‘Then he must have betrayed himself in some way. Do you think others may know of his secret work?’

  Amanda shook her head. ‘I have made a study of your husband since realizing his importance to you. Not many learn to rely upon their intuitive sense as I do. Then it was a simple matter to extract confirmation from Charles. Poor darling. Naturally, he does not know that he has told me. He would rather be shot than endanger Antony.’

  Karen leaned back in her chair and sighed. She felt exhausted. It must the result of her inner tension.

  Amanda looked at her commiseratingly. ‘Caro, you must use every means at your disposal to persuade Antony to remain here in safety. If he leaves England he will meet treachery. And you, too, are terribly at risk.’

  ‘How can that possibly be? I can’t go with Antony.’

  ‘The betrayal I sense will involve you both. You are both objects of hatred and envy.’

  Karen hit the table with her fist. ‘Why can’t you tell me more? Why? Why? If you are so gifted with clairvoyance, why can’t you help?’ She immediately regretted her outburst.

  But Amanda was not offended, only pitying. ‘I would give anything to spare you.’

  ‘Save your sorrow for when I’m dead, Amanda. Right now I’m in a mood to fight for my happiness. Will you speak to Antony? Do you think you could convince him of the danger?’

  ‘I will do what I can, but I do not envisage my success. I will be challenging Antony’s notion of his highest duty.’

  ‘What else can we do?’

  Karen tried to show her gratitude by making her friend as comfortable as possible for her one night’s visit. Her own rest was fitful, and she was woken early by the arrival of another messenger.

  Standing by the window in the cold light she read Antony’s tender note of farewell. While Amanda was still on the road to Devon, he had left for his secret place of embarkation and sailed upon the next high tide.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Thursday, December 13

  Visiting hours had ended when Tom drew into the near empty parking area. He had permission to see Karen late, since his own commitments prevented him coming during the day. He had kept scrupulously to routine, despite the upset of Valerie’s special needs, and his own desire to help the sleeping beauty of University College Hospital. Many people depended upon him, and he couldn’t just cut them off because he felt weary – almost overwhelmed by the events and insights of the past fortnight.

  Not for the first time, he asked himself why he was so eager to help a stranger. Often enough he’d given up precious personal time for others, when it was the only time available; but then it had been for the usual reasons. The patient had been disabled or otherwise disadvantaged, and unable to come to his office or clinic; their problem had been of specific interest, falling within Tom’s field of expertise; he’d been asked, as a favor by a friend, to take on extra work. The reasons were many, but they were valid. He had no good answer when he looked for a reason to sit by the bedside of a young woman in a coma, knowing intellectually that there was little he could do for her, yet prepared to wait for inspiration to visit him.

  He could tell himself that he cared about the waste of talent, perhaps genius. His feelings about his new painting couldn’t be put into words, although he knew that it had enriched his life. He could recall Karen Courtney’s haunted look that night at the gallery, a look that he’d helped to erase for a time, and admit that he’d been attracted to a woman of unusual style. Neither of these explanations was good enough. He simply did not have one that was.

  As he entered the lift with a couple of whispering nurses he had a job to prevent himself sagging against the wall for support. His hand went out to the buttons, hitting several, not just the floor he wanted. One nurse stared at
him and asked if he felt all right.

  ‘Just lack of sleep. I’m okay.’ He managed a lopsided smile.

  When he stumbled leaving the lift he heard a giggle behind him as the doors closed. Probably he did look more drunk than dog-tired.

  The antiseptic corridors were hushed at this hour, and the lights dimmed. He pushed open the door to Karen’s room and looked in.

  She lay almost motionless beneath the soft blue coverlet, her hair spread across her pillow like dark silk, her breast rising and falling almost imperceptibly. Billie sat on the far side of the bed watching the still features. She reminded Tom of a small temple cat sitting guard on the holy treasure. Because she was unaware of being watched her face had a vulnerability he would not have expected. A lot of pain showed there, and the kind of accepting patience that a terminally ill patient will often display. Tom felt like an intruder.

  ‘May I come in?’

  Instantly Billie’s mask was in place. She looked up sharply then, seeing Tom, relaxed.

  ‘It’s you. You may as well. There has been no change.’

  Tom pulled up a chair opposite Billie and looked at Karen. ‘She’s not here, is she? I wonder where she’s gone.’

  Billie frowned. ‘What an extraordinary thing to say.’ She picked up Karen’s limp hand and held it gently cradled in her own. The blunt-ended nails had grown and been shaped by someone else. The traces of ingrained paint had almost disappeared. Billie carefully redeposited it on the coverlet. ‘Of course, you are right. I worry that she might be suffering in that place, wherever it is. I fear she may not come back to us.’

  ‘Has anyone tried to reach her on a regular basis? Is there a program?’

  She shook her head. He noted that her hair, while neat, was displaying silver grey at the roots with pink tips that had grown out. Surprised at this telltale lack of grooming, he realised that Karen’s aunt was far more upset than she would like the world to know.