Then there was pain again and a pulling and pushing and she felt as if her insides were being pulled from her. She screamed but once and then it was over. Somewhere, as if from a long way off, she heard the sound of a new-born baby yelling lustily. Faces came close to hers, mouthing words she heard but could not understand. Still they were pummelling her body as if, even yet, it was not all done. Finally, they left her in peace, washed and wrapped in clean linen. Exhausted, she slept.
It was not until much later that she awoke and realised that, except for a soreness, all the pain was gone. She moved her hands and felt the flatness of her stomach. She sighed. Then it was over. She turned her head and found herself looking into Francis’s eyes. For a long moment they regarded each other solemnly. He saw a woman with her fine auburn hair strewn across the pillow, her face pale and her eyes with deep smudges of blue beneath them, telling of her suffering, and yet she was still beautiful, and damn it, he thought irritated with himself, still desirable!
Adelina observed Francis. He was unshaven, with a shadow of stubble upon his face, his eyes were weary, his hair ruffled, his shirt open at the neck. She guessed he had been sitting beside her bed, dozing and waking and watching over her. But there was still a remoteness about him, a bitter twist to his mouth and a hurt look deep in his blue eyes.
She smiled tremulously, but he did not return her smile. A new fear struck her. Perhaps there was something amiss – something wrong with the baby, or even with her! Perhaps she, too, like her mother and Emily, was going to die!
“Francis?” she whispered. “The baby?”
He leaned forward and after a moment’s hesitation he said, “You have a daughter, Adelina.”
“She – is she – healthy?”
“She is healthy, though not particularly beautiful. But, then, what newborn babes are?” His tone was bitter with disappointment. Hours earlier he had looked upon the baby, eagerly searching for some likeness to himself. But the child’s hair was black and her skin dark, whereas Lynwood’s hair and skin were fair!
Sick at heart he had turned away. Wallis Trent had black hair and a swarthy skin. The picture of Adelina and Wallis Trent talking together merged with that other image of his adored Caroline running into the arms of Thomas Cole.
“And me? What about me?” Adelina was saying.
“You?” There was a harsh note in his voice, a cruel tone. “ You, madam, are in excellent health. The doctor said he rarely saw an easier birth.”
Adelina smiled with wry amusement. “ Perhaps it was – from where he was standing!” She twisted her head upon the pillow and looked into Lynwood’s face. “Why did you say ‘you have a daughter’? She’s your daughter as well.”
“Is she?” Still the doubt was there.
Adelina tried to raise herself on one elbow but found the effort too painful. “Why don’t you believe me? I wouldn’t lie to you over a thing like that?”
But the painful memories, seen through the uncomprehending eyes of boyhood, had warped the emotions he had carried forward into manhood. He could not allow himself to trust Caroline’s daughter!
If they stayed together, Lynwood thought, if he married her even, there was no hope of happiness and contentment for them while this jealousy and distrust ate at him like a canker. Yet, if he sent her away, his life would be empty and a lonely misery.
She was looking at him now, her green eyes beseeching him, but he hardened his heart against her silent plea.
“Well, madam,” he stood up and walked to the end of the bed. “I am glad you are safely delivered of your child and that both of you are healthy, but I must make it clear that I have no intention of marrying you – not now or ever!”
Adelina trembled. “Oh, Francis. You can’t mean to allow your daughter to go through life with the stigma of being a bastard? You could not be so cruel to an innocent child?”
Lynwood flinched, but he set his jaw in a hard, unyielding line and said slowly and deliberately, “ I will not marry you, Adelina. I – cannot!” He came close to the bed and, looking down at her he said through clenched teeth, “If you had been a virgin when you came to me, or if your child had been a boy, then I might – I just might – have married you!”
It took some seconds for the full impact of his words to strike her. Then her hopes crumpled. Never had she loved him as much as she did at this moment, when he turned his back resolutely upon her and walked out of the room – and out of her life!
Some while later Jane came into the room.
“Oh, madam, what is it?” she asked sympathetically, putting her arm around Adelina’s shaking shoulders. “ Don’t fret so. The baby’s fine. She’s a beauty. Nurse will be bringing her along to see you soon.”
“Nurse?”
“Why yes, didn’t his lordship tell you? He’s engaged one of the best dry-nurses in London. Rumour has it she’s been nurse to a duke’s children. She’s a bit old and very strict with all of us, but she’s as gentle as a lamb when she holds the baby. Then, of course there’s the wet-nurse.”
“Well, you can send her away. No one but me is going to suckle my child,” Adelina declared.
Jane’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but she made no comment. After a few moments she said, “ By the way, madam, what are you going to call the dear little thing?”
Adelina dried her eyes and blew her nose. Anger made her stop weeping. “ I don’t know.” She paused then asked, “What’s the equivalent of Francis for a girl?”
“Well, there’s Frances, but I think it’s spelt differently, but I’m not right good at spelling, ma’am.”
Adelina nodded. “ Yes, with an ‘e’ instead of an ‘i’. Can you think of any more?”
Jane wrinkled her brow and thought. “The only other one I can think of, ma’am, is Francesca.”
“Francesca,” Adelina repeated the name and thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I like it. I’ll call her Francesca Caroline. My mother’s name was Caroline.”
She did not see Lynwood again, but he made lavish and generous arrangements for the care of the baby – whether or not he really believed the child to be his. As soon as she felt well enough, Adelina made preparations to leave London.
And there was only one place she could go.
Adelina was returning to Abbeyford.
She travelled by stage-coach, taking only Jane with her to care for the child. The nurse, engaged by Lynwood, was dismissed.
The journey was a nightmare. The baby, Francesca, became sick. The horses were old and tired and travelled at only five miles or so an hour. The journey seemed endless and took three days instead of two. The cold seeped into their bones and once all the passengers were obliged to alight from the coach at a particularly steep hill, for the horses could not pull the loaded coach up the hill.
“I hope we don’t have an accident, ma’am,” Jane said, panting along at the side of Adelina who carried the baby. “ I reckon this coachman’s not to be trusted. Strikes me he’s overloaded the coach.”
Adelina said nothing, but bit down hard upon her lower lip and held the child closer to her against the winter wind.
After what seemed weeks instead of days, bruised and battered through being tossed about in the rattling coach, they arrived near Amberly. Hiring a local cab, Adelina took a bold step. “Lynwood Hall, please, driver,” she instructed him.
Jane gasped and looked at Adelina with wide eyes. “Oh ma’am. Ought we to?”
“Just for the present, Jane, until I’ve had time to look around.”
Adelina did not take her maidservant into her confidence, but she intended to stay at Lynwood Hall just long enough to find out, once and for all, whether she could be reconciled with her grandfather. If not, then she would return to America.
Their arrival at Lynwood Hall caused little stir. Lady Lynwood, who had seen no reason to remain in London during Adelina’s necessary absence from Society, had returned earlier to her country home. Now, as she greeted Adelina, she seemed amused by the situation.
Her laughter cackled readily. “Well, miss, you didn’t manage to lead him to the altar, then? Hmm – I’m surprised. I thought he loved you.” Her sharp eyes scanned Adelina’s face. “And you him.”
Adelina remained silent.
“Have you had news of your relatives while you’ve been in London?” Lady Lynwood asked suddenly.
“Only – only about Emily.”
“Martha Langley has been very ill. Just after Emily’s death. She is partially paralysed. Her husband’s at his wit’s end to know how to cope with her.” Her beady eyes looked straight at Adelina. “ Shall you go and see them?”
Adelina shrugged. “ I doubt if I’d be welcomed.”
“I think in their present pitiable state, they’d welcome the Devil himself, if he offered help.”
“Well,” Adelina hesitated. “ I’ll have to think about it.”
Two days later, however, when her small daughter had recovered from the harassing journey and was once again a happy, gurgling infant, Adelina, driving herself and dressed warmly, took the gig from Lord Lynwood’s stables and set out towards Abbeyford.
It was early January 1818, and her heart lifted as she drove along the narrow lanes. She found the frosty, country air invigorating after city life. As she drove through Amberly, Adelina scarcely glanced at the villagers, remembering their previous hostility. Children scuttled out of the way of her horse’s flying hooves and mothers scooped up their toddlers to safety. Just as she left the village she passed by a small cottage set a little apart from the other dwellings and standing some distance back from the road. A barefoot toddler, with a dirty face, bright red curls and a ragged shirt, tottered down the path, and briefly she saw a man emerging from the cottage doorway. She was past so quickly and he was some way from her that she could not really recognise him, yet there was something vaguely familiar about the stocky build and broad shoulders. But she knew no one in Amberly, she told herself. For some inexplicable reason the sight of the shadowy figure had awakened in her a feeling of unease. Then she whipped up the horse towards Abbeyford and forgot all about the man and his red-haired child.
As she emerged from the trees she pulled on the reins and drew the horse to a halt. She sat for a moment, drinking in the scene before her. Immediately below her was Abbeyford Manor, then farther down the valley she followed the twisting lane with her eyes, catching sight of the ford and the, tiny footbridge and then the village itself with the church in its midst and, close by, the Vicarage and, far beyond on the opposite hill, was Abbeyford Grange where her grandfather lived in self-imposed loneliness. To her right were the abbey ruins and all around lay the farmlands belonging to Lord Royston.
Adelina slapped the reins and her horse trotted on obediently. She took the narrow lane towards Abbeyford village and was soon turning in the Vicarage gates.
The story Lady Lynwood had told Adelina about Mrs Langley proved to be true. She was in a pitiable state and Mr Langley was thin and ill with worry and the burden of caring for his truculent wife.
The door was opened to Adelina by the maid and when she was shown into the Vicar’s study, Adelina gasped to see the change in him. His hair was now completely snow-white but ruffled and unkempt. He had always stooped slightly, but now his shoulders were hunched more than ever. His face was gaunt and his eyes ringed with dark shadows from lack of sleep. His yellowy skin was loose and pouchy as if he had suddenly lost weight. His clothes, hanging untidily on him, were blotched with stains.
His eyes widened as he realised who his visitor was. “Adelina my dear. How glad I am to see you.” The tears welled in his eyes, and Adelina was moved to bend and kiss his forehead. As she followed the Vicar’s shambling steps into the drawing-room, Adelina noticed the thick film of dust everywhere.
She stepped into the room. Sitting in a chair near the fire was Mrs Langley – a mere shadow of the formidable woman Adelina remembered. She seemed shrunken and wasted away. Her hands, lying uselessly in her lap, twitched from time to time. She breathed noisily through her mouth, which hung open. Her eyes turned towards Adelina and there was a flash of recognition in them. There was bitterness and venom in her eyes, but, though she worked her mouth, Martha Langley could no longer give vent to her feelings with her tongue.
For all her dislike of this woman, Adelina felt sorry for her. She sat down opposite her and forced herself to smile at Mrs Langley.
“She knows you, Adelina, and she understands what we say to her. Her comprehension is quite unimpaired,” Mr Langley explained. “It’s purely – physical.”
Adelina nodded. “ I’m truly sorry to see you like this, ma’am, believe me.”
Mrs Langley gave a loud sniff and Adelina almost laughed aloud. She hadn’t forgotten how to give that famous sniff which in itself could speak volumes!
Swiftly, Adelina made up her mind. “Mrs Langley – you need help, don’t you? And I need somewhere to stay – just for a few weeks.”
Mrs Langley made some weird noises and her head rocked from side to side.
“No – no, I know you don’t like me – never have, and I know what you must think of me now. But for once you’re going to have to forget your pride for your husband’s sake. Just look at him. He’ll be ill next if he goes on much longer the way he is.”
Mrs Langley’s eyes swivelled to look at him, then, giving a peculiar sort of strangulated groan, she closed her eyes and rocked her whole being to and fro.
“That’s settled then,” Adelina said, standing up. “We’ll be moving in within the next few days.”
“We?” Mr Langley questioned.
“Er – yes. Myself, my maid and – er – the baby.”
“Baby!” He was obviously startled, and Mrs Langley began to make a gurgling noise, which Adelina ignored.
“Yes,” she said, as casually as she could manage. “Didn’t you know I have a baby daughter. She’s three months old.”
“Adelina!” There was a world of sadness and disappointment in his tone. “Oh, Adelina – how could you?”
He paused and then said slowly, as if battling with himself. “Well – I don’t know what to say about that, I’m sure. I mean …”
“Look, you need help – desperately. And now poor Emily’s gone …” She saw him flinch at the mention of his daughter, but Adelina continued with a little of the ruthlessness that had been her mother’s nature. “There’s only me left to come and help out a while. Now don’t let pride stand in your way. By the look of both of you, you could sure use a little help right now.”
She paused while he appeared to be struggling with his conscience. Quietly, she said, “I really don’t think you have any choice, have you?” He sighed. “I suppose not.”
Within a few days Adelina had packed her trunks once more and taken leave of Lynwood Hall.
“So,” Lady Lynwood had remarked drily, “you’re going to play nursemaid for a while, are you, miss?” She laughed. “ You’ll soon tire of that I don’t doubt and be back knocking on our door.”
“No,” Adelina said quietly with infinite sadness. “ I can never ask another favour of Lord Lynwood.”
“Really?” The old lady raised her eyebrows sceptically. “ Mmm – well, we’ll see.”
“If I have to leave Abbeyford again, I shall go back to America.”
Lady Lynwood showed surprise at Adelina’s remark. Adelina turned her clear green eyes upon the old lady, whom she had come to regard with affection. “ There’s only one thing I want now other than …” she stopped, unable to speak Lynwood’s name. “Only one thing – to meet my grandfather. If – if that is not possible, then – then there is nothing else I can do.”
“Don’t waste your life waiting for a stupid old man to overcome his hurt pride – or for that matter,” she added, referring to her own son, “a stupid young one!”
Surprisingly, Adelina’s way of life back at the Vicarage bore little resemblance to the previous time. Mr Langley, worn out by the unaccustomed domestic burden, was only too thankful t
o relinquish the reins to Adelina, who soon had the servants performing their duties properly instead of idly taking advantage of the elderly, mild-tempered Vicar. Mrs Langley was completely helpless physically, nor could she voice her disapproval. Only her eyes showed the resentment she still felt towards Adelina.
“It won’t be for long,” Adelina comforted herself.
When the house had been restored to some sort of order and Mr Langley sufficiently recovered to take up his parish duties once more, and Francesca had settled to a routine and began to thrive in the country air, Adelina decided it was time she visited Abbeyford Grange.
One particularly warm and spring-like day in early March Adelina left the Vicarage and the village and took the footpath through the open fields until she came to the small footbridge crossing the stream. She stood on the bridge, her hand resting on the rail and looked up at Abbeyford Grange. Her heart began to beat faster as she walked up the slope towards the high wall surrounding the house and garden. Reaching the wall she found a door and, twisting the heavy ring, she pushed it open and stepped into the sunken garden. Her gaze was drawn to the house – the house which had been her mother’s home. It looked empty, deserted almost, although she knew Lord Royston still lived here, no doubt with several servants. But the house had a desolate air, an atmosphere of decay and neglect.
Without realising she had moved, she found herself in a square in the centre of the rose garden and when a voice spoke close by, Adelina jumped violently.
“No need to ask who you are.”
Adelina turned to see an old man sitting on a garden seat, a rug wrapped warmly over his knees. His face was wrinkled and his bushy white eyebrows almost met in the centre of his forehead as he frowned. His head was bald, except for a white tuft of hair over each ear. His hand held a walking-stick, the gnarled knuckles showing white as he gripped the stick and from time to time he struck the ground with it.
This was Lord Royston – her grandfather!
“No tongue in your head?” he growled, as Adelina continued to stare at him. His reprimand made her hold her head higher – proud and defiant.
Abbeyford Inheritance Page 12