by Janet Woods
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
She shrugged. ‘Richard told me his father didn’t visit him when he was in hospital. Major Henry was shamed by the thought of mental illness in the family, and that Richard might have been considered cowardly in the execution of his duty towards his country. I didn’t think the major would have liked me to tell anyone.’
Exasperated, Denton said, ‘It was mental and physical fatigue in Richard’s case. If he’d got help earlier it would probably have been less severe. If you saw what the soldiers went through in France, you’d understand.’
‘I don’t need to have seen it, Denton. Richard talked in his sleep, and that was traumatic in itself.’ She placed her hand on his wrist when his father’s car skidded to a stop. ‘I don’t know if there are any guns and ammunition at Foxglove House, and I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt. Don’t leave me worrying about you.’
In a wry twist of imagination, he pictured his own funeral with Richard’s widow weeping copious tears all over his coffin. Now that would add flames to the fire of scandal. He grinned at her and snatched a kiss before she had time to stop him.
‘I’ll be back, I promise,’ he said.
To keep herself busy, Livia collected the eggs from the henhouse. Bertie followed her, dropping a stick at her feet.
‘So you want a game, do you?’ She placed the basket of eggs down and threw the stick as far as she could, laughing when he raced after it in short leaps. Sidetracked by a smell, he went off into the undergrowth and Livia made her way to the house. He would scratch when he wanted to come in.
The door was swinging open. She wasn’t usually so careless, because the cottage soon lost heat. She closed it and set about making some tea. She cut a slice of Connie’s gingerbread cake and set it on the tray. It was nice not to be bossed around in her own kitchen, but she’d appreciated Connie’s help, though.
Meggie was making gurgling noises in her pram, which was kept in the sitting room. About to place the basket of eggs in the larder, she heard the major’s voice.
‘Has naughty Mummy left you all alone? I suppose she’s gone off on that stupid horse of hers. Come and sit on Daddy’s knee and he’ll tell you a nice story.’
Livia’s heart fell into the pit of her stomach and her mouth went dry. Dropping the eggs she snatched up a knife and edged towards the sitting room.
The major had Meggie on his lap, and she was gazing up at him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
The major looked up when Livia went in, and smiled. ‘It’s about time you came back, Margaret. Where were you? Richard needs feeding.’
‘Fetching the eggs,’ she whispered, her mouth so dry with fear that she could barely get the words out.
‘You don’t look pleased to see me.’
She swallowed. His mind was wandering, but she must try to make him understand. ‘I am pleased, but I’m not Margaret. I’m Livia. The baby is your granddaughter. Pass her over to me, please, Major Henry. I’ll take her upstairs and change her napkin.’
‘I’ve been kept in a prison camp,’ he told her. ‘They keep torturing me. But I won’t tell them anything.’
Denton had forgotten the key to Foxglove House. Because his shoes were muddy, he took them off and left them on the back doorstep. Livia would be feeding Meggie by now. He opened the door and stepped inside, on to something sticky. Broken eggs! The mess oozed through his socks and up between his toes. A tea tray was on the table. He took a bite of the gingerbread.
Then he heard voices and froze.
‘Henry, I want you to hand my baby to me.’ Livia sounded calm, but she was breathless, and there was an underlying fear.
‘It’s my baby, too. It’s Richard. I want to hold him.’
‘It isn’t Richard. Richard is dead. Don’t you remember, you attended his funeral. It’s Meggie you’re holding. She’s your granddaughter. You can hold her again after she’s had her feed.’
Meggie gave a cry, reminding her mother she had rights.
‘See . . . you’re making her upset.’
‘I know my own child when I see him. You’re lying to make me confused, Margaret. You’re going to leave the child and go to Tangiers. Then they’ll take me away to that prison camp.’
‘I still have to feed the baby. Give her to me, Major. Please.’
Denton could hear the strain in her voice, and gazed through the crack of the door. The major was on the settee with Meggie on his lap. Livia was stood just a few inches from where he was, her back against the door. The arms at her side were balled into tight fists, and she had a kitchen knife in one of them, hidden against her skirt. She was nearly at breaking point.
He didn’t want to frighten Livia any further, so he whispered, ‘It’s Denton. Move to the right so I can open the door.’
He heard her breath expel, and she moved quickly. As the door swung open he took two strides forward and plucked Meggie from the major’s lap.
Within seconds Livia had snatched the baby from him and was gone, her feet scurrying up the stairs. The bedroom door closed and a key was turned in the lock.
He heard the window open and she called out from up above, ‘Doctor Elliot, the major is here, with Denton. The back door is open.’
Denton tried to placate the confused Henry, who said, ‘I wouldn’t have hurt my child.’
‘I know you wouldn’t. You’re not well, Major. You ran away from the hospital.’
‘All I wanted was to come home to my family, but I can’t find them.’
His father came in, a smile on his face. ‘Hello, Major.’
‘Andrew Elliot . . . glad to see you again.’
‘You’re in a spot of trouble, I believe. I’ll give you your medicine, then we can talk.’
‘I don’t want to go back to that place.’
‘I’m afraid you must, Henry. Expose his arm while I prepare the medication, would you please, Denton.’
‘I thought I saw Margaret with Richard, but they’ve gone now,’ Henry told him.
‘I expect your mind was wandering a bit, old chap. The pair of them are no longer with us. Margaret never recovered from that accident on the horse, you know. Richard went to school with Denton, they grew up together, if you recall.’
‘Yes . . . I suppose they did.’
‘Your son died a hero.’
‘Richard served his country well,’ the major said. ‘But who was that I saw?’
‘It’s Richard’s widow. Her name is Livia.’
‘She’s a pretty little thing. Nice hips.’
The needle slid in with barely a prick. ‘Livia and Richard had a daughter together. That’s who you saw, Livia Sangster and your baby granddaughter. Her name is Meggie.’
‘Ah yes, Meggie, is it? I thought the baby was mine. Richard’s child, you say? She was my granddaughter then. I get confused.’ Henry’s eyes began to droop. ‘I must do something for the child.’
‘Poor sod,’ Denton said. ‘I’ll take him back to London, if you like.’
‘It would be best if we allow the police to do that. They’ll send a Black Maria and he’ll be secure.’
Denton went upstairs and said against the panel to Livia’s room, ‘The major is medicated, so it’s all right to come down. He’ll be picked up and conveyed back to London. My father will be with him all the time.’
‘I’m not coming down until he’s gone. I never want to see that man again.’
‘Livia, it’s perfectly all right.’
‘I’m feeding Meggie now.’ There was an audible sniff. ‘Thank you for coming, Denton. I was terrified . . . and thank Doctor Elliot.’
‘We still need to talk,’ he whispered.
‘No, not today – not ever. There’s no future in it for you. You must accept that.’
‘Is that your last word?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I’m not going to accept it. Whether you like it or not, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.’
The major was sitting i
n an armchair with the cat on his lap when Denton went downstairs.
‘What on earth is going on between you?’ his father asked.
‘Livia Sangster is the most infuriating woman I’ve ever met.’
Andrew Elliot grinned.
Twenty-One
The shop smelled like most ironmongers; of metal, grease and rubber. Mr Beamish came through from the back room, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. He eyed his visitor warily. ‘Oh, it’s you, Doctor Elliot. What can I do for you?’
‘You can tell me about Meggie if you would, Mr Beamish.’
Beamish’s eyes became flat and impenetrable. ‘Let’s not waste breath. Specifically, what are you after knowing, Doctor?’
‘Who fathered the child?’
Beamish gave a snort of disgust. ‘You’ve been listening to gossip. The father’s name is on Meggie’s birth certificate. It’s Richard Sinclair Sangster.’
‘I was the doctor on duty when you brought Richard into the field hospital in France. I treated his injuries. The chances of him being able to father a child were slim to non-existent.’
‘He beat the odds then. The captain always was a lucky sod, and his equipment was still intact, and obviously still in working order.’ Beamish gave a faint smile and his eyes glinted. ‘Livia Sangster made the captain very happy in the last few months of his life. She’s a lovely young woman altogether. What business is it of yours, anyway?’
‘You know what it is. I love Livia, and I know she loves me. She said as much. Yet she refuses to marry me. I think she’s hiding something.’
‘And if she is?’
‘I need to know what it is.’
‘So you’re going to try and rake up some muck, whatever the effect it might have on her. Hasn’t she been through enough?’
Anger flared through him. Was Beamish deliberately being obtuse? ‘I know what she’s been through,’ and he did. First it was the loss of her parents, then being parted from her siblings. Now Richard had died, and even though she’d known he wouldn’t survive long, that had been a tragedy. She’d told him she’d loved Richard, and he believed her. Still, the hasty marriage had a whiff of convenience about it.
‘If you think I’d do anything to hurt Livia, you’re insane. Whatever it is she’s hiding, I think she’s doing it to protect me.’
‘So you’ve been listening to gossip.’ He shrugged. ‘Let me ask you something. Have you heard the rumour that you fathered Meggie on Richard’s behalf, so there would be an heir for the Sinclair inheritance?’
Denton started. ‘No . . . I hadn’t heard that.’
‘Is it true?’
‘Good Lord, no. It’s complete and utter fabrication.’
‘Some people believe it is true, so there you are then. Why should I believe you? The thing is, half the district thinks they know something, and the other half are convinced they know something else.’
‘And the truth is disregarded as being too obvious.’
‘I’ll tell you this for nothing. Livia Sangster and the captain were as cosy as doves. It’s about time you accepted that you just might have been wrong in your diagnosis.’ He threw a handful of nails on the scales, then tipped them into a brown paper bag and threw them on the counter. ‘Here, take these with you. You might need them.’
‘What for?’
‘To hammer down the lid of Mrs Sangster’s coffin after you’ve ruined the little bit of true happiness she’s had in her life. She loves that child, so I advise you to tread very carefully, and let sleeping dogs lie, Mister. It sounds to me as if she doesn’t trust you, and why should she, when you go sneaking about behind her back asking questions?’
Beamish was right. Even so, the man had given enough away to suggest to Denton that Richard may not have fathered Meggie. But who was the sleeping dog he’d referred to, and was Meggie Richard’s child? If not, had Richard known the child wasn’t his?
‘I only have Livia’s welfare at heart, so I won’t need the nails.’
‘In that case I’ll give you a tip you might be able to use. Livia Sangster can be as stubborn as a mule, but she reacts when she’s angry.’
As he left the shop, Denton didn’t like the way his thoughts were going; yet he couldn’t imagine Richard allowing himself to be deceived, or manipulated into a marriage he didn’t want.
Perhaps he was better off being left in ignorance. But then it would always nag at him. The truth would be better coming from her. He chuckled at the thought of people thinking he’d fathered Meggie. He wished he had.
He started thinking about the things he needed answers for.
Livia usually attended the morning service, but with Connie Starling absent, her sister and brother went alone, Esmé riding on the crossbar of Chad’s bicycle.
They’d only been gone five minutes when a knock came at the door.
She knew who it was. She combed her hair then went to answer it. The urge to throw herself into his arms was nearly overwhelming. ‘Denton. Come in. I was just going to make some tea. Will you have one?’
‘Don’t use tricks to throw me off course. It won’t work. I’m here to finish a conversation we nearly had a few days ago.’
‘I can’t marry you – and stop being so disagreeable.’
When she tried to shut the door in his face he stuck his foot in the gap. ‘I understood that bit. What I didn’t get was why you feel you can’t trust me.’
She turned and walked away. He followed after her, closing the door behind them. She had to be firm. ‘I don’t love you.’
‘You’re a bad liar.’
When he picked up her hand and kissed the palm, she jerked it away. ‘Play fair.’
‘It’s not a game, Livia. I’m determined.’
‘So am I.’
‘No you’re not. You’re just being stubborn. There’s a reason why you refuse to marry me, and it’s not because you don’t love me. I think I’ve figured it out, though.’
‘I doubt it. Leave it be, Denton. Leave me be. You’re right. I do love you, and because I do, I can’t marry you. If the truth came out it would ruin you.’
‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’
‘We’re not getting anywhere. There is more than your future to think of. I cannot marry you. How many times must I say it?’
‘Until the not at the end of cannot wears out.’
‘You’re infuriating.’
‘Let me put this to you. You and Richard . . . and I can’t imagine how, because he . . . Damn it, Livia, you know what I’m getting at. Your marriage couldn’t have worked as normal in a physical sense long term, but Richard managed a lucky shot. Meggie was the result. When you told him, he married you and you passed the child off as premature. I can’t see how that would ruin me.’
He was so far off the mark she wanted to laugh. In fact, she did laugh, throwing it in his face. ‘Hah!’
His eyes darkened. ‘No? Then let me put this to you. Someone else fathered Meggie, and you managed to convince Richard it was his. And why not, when Richard’s estate, as well as the Sinclair fortune was going begging. The fact that there’s a rumour about me being the father lends credence to this. No wonder the major was about to challenge the will.’
Anger began to build up in her. ‘How many men do you think I’ve been to bed with Denton?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. You tell me. But first tell me who fathered that child.’
‘Stop saying such horrible things to me. Go away. Go to Australia and hop around with the kangaroos. I don’t want to see you any more. Better still, go to hell and stick your pitchfork in someone else!’
‘Livia, you don’t mean that.’
‘Yes I do.’ She could feel the tears running down her face. ‘You have no idea how much I love you, Denton. This inquisition is tearing me apart. Leave me. Just go. It was nothing like you imagine, and Richard was not the fool you paint him to be.’
‘Livia,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t you trust me? Tell me who fathered Meggie.’
‘I suppose I might as well take that job in Australia then. I can’t see any future in staying here and facing the agony of seeing you day after day.’ He turned and walked away, and in that instant she knew she’d never see him again, and wondered if she’d be able to stand it.
This was it – the moment she’d been dreading. Either she had to tell him the truth, or let him go.
‘Major Henry,’ she said quietly
He stopped and turned, the expression on his face one of stunned bewilderment. ‘What of him?’
‘He attacked me when he was drunk, and he violated me. Chad nearly walked in on him. So did Beamish but it was too late. I didn’t know what to do when I discovered I might be pregnant, so I told Richard.’
‘Good God! No wonder you looked so terrified when he had Meggie on his lap. So Richard married you so there wouldn’t be a scandal.’
‘And he pretended to be Meggie’s father so she could inherit the Sinclair estate. He said the baby was his heir; if it were illegitimate it wouldn’t be able to inherit.’
‘I’m so sorry I doubted you, and Richard.’
‘As for our relationship, Richard and I did have one of sorts, but we only tried to make love on a couple of occasions, and to this day I don’t know if we succeeded. I felt that I owed him that, to try. His breathing was affected so badly that I thought he’d die. He said it made him feel as though he was truly the coming baby’s father, rather than its brother. The marriage gave me respectability, and also protected Meggie with a name she was entitled to have by right of blood. Without Richard she’d have been an outcast all her life. And she can never know who really fathered her. Richard was a generous, wonderful man, one who I’ll always remember with love.’
‘I don’t know what to say. I think I’ve made an utter twit of myself.’
‘Yes, you have, and you don’t have to say anything. You can see now why I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, and why I can’t marry you. If it gets out, you’ll be involved in a scandal. I thought I’d lose you if I told you, so I couldn’t tell you in case you scorned me. Most of all, I cared for Meggie’s sake.