by Hale Deborah
The longer he reflected on it, the more Bennett wondered how his wife could willingly give up their son after the lengths to which she had gone to keep Wyn with her. A few weeks ago, he might have assumed she’d grown bored with motherhood. Now he knew otherwise. During their time on the island, Caroline had learned the true meaning of love. By giving up Wyn, she was demonstrating that hard-won knowledge in the most selfless way possible.
From the star-studded sky above, the pale melancholy face of the maiden in the moon seemed to challenge Bennett. Did he have the courage to do the same?
Chapter Sixteen
After a restless night, Caroline woke with a start the next morning, uncertain what had roused her. When her eyelids fluttered open, she discovered Bennett sitting on the trunk at the foot of her bed. The shock of seeing him there brought a sharp enquiry to her lips. But the look of weary sadness on his face moved her to speak gently instead.
‘How long have you been here?’ she whispered. ‘Did you get any sleep at all last night?’
She wondered if he had come to try winning her back by appealing to the passionate physical connection they’d lately revived. If so, he might succeed, for she was sorely tempted to open her arms and invite him into her bed. All that prevented her was fear of the regret she might glimpse in his eyes afterwards.
In reply to her question about sleep, Bennett slowly shook his head. ‘I will have plenty of time to sleep on my journey back to London. I’m sorry I startled you, but I wanted a chance for a private word before Wyn wakes. I intend to take a boat to St Mary’s after his treasure hunt, then catch the next ship back to the mainland.’
‘That sounds like a good plan.’ Caroline sat up. ‘Wyn will be so excited about finding his treasure, I’m certain he won’t mind leaving the island. You can take Parker and Albert along to help care for him on your journey. They will be glad to get back to London again.’
It required all her willpower to stifle a forlorn sigh. She could not afford to let Bennett guess how weak her resolve was. It would be best if her husband and son departed soon, before her good intentions gave way beneath her longing to remain part of their lives no matter what the cost.
Bennett rubbed his eyes. ‘I spent the night walking and thinking about all the things we discussed and everything that has happened since we came to Tresco. I came to tell you I have reached a decision.’
That word made Caroline uneasy. Did he somehow intend to force her to return to London and go on with their marriage? The latter prospect made her heart flutter with a mixture of panic…and hope.
Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Bennett took something out. His fingers wrapped around the object so Caroline could not tell what it was. ‘That story you told Wyn last night gave me a great deal to ponder.’
She thought back over the tale of the Loathly Lady. Though she recognised certain parallels to their blighted marriage, she was not certain what lesson Bennett could have drawn from it.
‘Seven years ago, I gave you little choice but to marry me. Now I intend to leave the decision about your future—our future—in your hands.’ Leaning over the footboard of the bed, he extended his arm towards her.
Instinctively, Caroline opened her hand to receive whatever he intended to give her. Just as the small rounded object dropped into her palm, she heard the faint thump of Wyn’s feet hitting the floor. Her fingers closed around her wedding ring—the one she’d torn from her hand and flung at Bennett several weeks ago.
That day now seemed so long in the past. Recalling it, she scarcely recognised the frustrated, angry enemies she and her husband had been then. She could not risk any action that might turn them back into those people.
Bennett gave a visible start when he heard Wyn jump out of bed and scurry around his room. Eager as he was to begin the treasure hunt, the child must have decided to get dressed all on his own. He would not likely allow his parents many more minutes of privacy.
‘If you cannot forgive me for the years of unhappiness you have endured as my wife and give me a chance to become the husband you deserve,’ Bennett rattled off the words in his haste to get them out, ‘then I will assist you to obtain a legal separation so you can keep Wyn. You will not have to remain on Tresco, though I hope you will settle close enough that I may see our son quite often.’
‘Legal separation?’ Caroline repeated in a bemused murmur as if she had no idea what those words meant. In fact, she understood them all too well.
For a fleeting instant when Bennett returned her wedding ring, she’d experienced a flicker of hope that he was about to make a heartfelt declaration in a final bid to win her back. His mention of a separation quashed that foolish dream so harshly that she’d paid little heed to anything else he said.
‘That’s right.’ Bennett rose from his improvised seat on her trunk. ‘A mensa et thoro it’s called. It would allow you to be free of me, yet still keep Wyn. I know if you consented to return to me, it would only be because you could not bear to part with him. That is not what I want.’
What did he want, then? Caroline’s brow furrowed.
Last night Bennett had pleaded with her to continue their marriage, for Wyn’s sake. She’d assumed he finally recognised her genuine love for their son and remembered how the estrangement from his mother had blighted his childhood. Yet now he claimed he didn’t want her to come back only for the good of their child. Indeed, he seemed to be going out of his way to give her no reason to remain in their marriage.
‘I don’t…understand.’ Cradling her discarded wedding ring in her palm, she wondered what had possessed Bennett to keep it and why he’d chosen this moment to return it to her. Was it meant to be a symbol, to remind her of all the unhappiness they’d caused one another?
A fierce scowl gripped Bennett’s features. Perhaps he was vexed by her bewilderment. ‘I will not press my attentions upon you if they are unwelcome. But if you change your mind, you have only to place that ring back upon your finger…and I shall be—’
From out in the hallway came the sound of Wyn’s door opening, followed by footsteps.
Bennett’s hands clenched. ‘That is…you shall make me—’
‘Papa?’ Wyn tapped softly on his father’s door. ‘Can we go hunt for that treasure now, before someone else beats us to it?’
‘I shall make you what?’ Caroline prompted her husband in a yearning whisper.
She had seldom seen him so discomposed, his gaze shifting from her to the door and back. He seemed to have trouble swallowing. ‘You shall make me the…’
‘Papa?’ Wyn called again, his tone more insistent, becoming agitated.
‘What’s the use?’ Bennett muttered as he spun away from her. ‘I cannot do this, even if it would make a difference.’
Then he raised his voice to call out to the child, ‘I’m coming, son.’
Without looking back, he strode off, leaving Caroline more perplexed than ever.
A moment later, she overheard him talking to Wyn out in the hallway.
‘Is Mama coming with us to look for the treasure?’ the child asked.
‘Your mother is still in bed. We should let her rest,’ replied Bennett without bothering to consult her. ‘If we find some treasure, we can bring it back to show her.’
The next sound Caroline heard was their footsteps on the stairs.
The ring in her hand felt heavier than it ought to, as if it had absorbed the weight of all the old bitterness between them. She could not escape the superstitious fancy that if she put it on again, all those venomous old feelings would seep back into her heart. Rising from the bed, she hurried to the windowsill and placed the ring there. Then she backed away, as if from something dangerous that might follow her if she let down her guard.
What had Bennett meant last night, when he’d urged her to return to London and give their failed marriage another chance? she asked herself as she removed her nightgown. Had it only been a passing whim he’d repented almost immediately? Or had she deceiv
ed herself once again into hearing only what she wanted to hear?
Clearly whatever he’d said last night no longer signified, Caroline decided as she began to dress for the day. He must have seized upon this idea of a legal separation as a way to get rid of her without compromising his honour. As he had so often reminded her, actions spoke louder than words.
That thought gave Caroline pause. What could Bennett be trying to tell her by offering this choice between a legal separation and the wedding band she’d so violently discarded? It was a riddle as puzzling to her as the man himself. And yet, she’d made progress these past few weeks in beginning to grasp the contradictory enigma of her husband’s nature.
The more she understood him, the more she’d come to care for him. Did she dare risk loving him even more with the final end of their marriage in sight?
As Caroline wandered down the stairs, lost in thought, she met Parker on her way up, carrying a tray. ‘I thought you might like a bite of breakfast in your room, my lady, seeing as how his lordship and Master Wyn have gone out.’
‘Have they left already?’
The maid nodded. ‘Just headed off a moment ago, ma’am. Bolted their breakfast in a trice. Master Wyn’s that excited. He said he’d let me have my pick of something from his treasure.’
The thought of her son’s generosity brought a faint smile to Caroline’s lips. ‘Thank you for fetching me breakfast, Parker, but I haven’t much appetite this morning.’
‘Are you ill, my lady?’ Parker sounded more concerned about her well-being than vexed at having gone to some effort for nothing. ‘Should I go fetch that healer woman?’
Caroline shook her head. ‘I’m not in need of any brew from Mrs Hicks, but thank you for asking. A dose of sunshine and sea air is what I require now.’
‘If you say so, ma’am.’ Parker made a careful turn on the narrow stairs and headed back to the kitchen.
Caroline followed her as far as the parlour, where she donned her bonnet and set off on her walk.
A few minutes later, she paused at the top of the bluff that looked out over Gimble Porth and afforded such a fine view in all directions. To the west, across a strip of blue water studded with rocks and offshore islets, lay the island of St Martin’s. Behind the bay stretched hummocks of windswept heath. To the south, the stone buildings of Dolphin Town clustered on the edge of the fertile, green downland. Tresco’s varied landscape reminded Caroline how she’d once compared Bennett to this isolated island of contrasts.
Once again, she turned her thoughts to the choice he’d given her. Only this time, she tried to keep her self-doubt and defensiveness in check as she pondered how her choice would affect him.
She had never heard of a legal separation until a year ago when Lady Byron had obtained one from her husband, amid rumours of his cruelty and madness. Almack’s had buzzed with scandalised whispers of a highly improper liaison with his half-sister. Almost overnight, society’s favourite had become a vilified outcast, exiled to the Continent. In the years to come, would anyone remember the fine poetry he’d written or would his reputation always be tainted by the scandal of his failed marriage?
Caroline asked herself what it would mean for her husband if she sought such a separation. Would he be branded cruel, mad or wicked, like Lord Byron, and shunned from society? The effect on his Abolition work would be disastrous, harming his reputation far worse even than her scandalous kiss with Fitz Astley. Yet, Bennett was willing to suffer all that so she might have her freedom without losing her child.
The notion struck her like a hard gust of wind off the sea, making her sway on knees suddenly gone weak. Could Bennett be trying to demonstrate with actions something he found impossible to convey in words?
She recalled his fumbling efforts to tell her the significance of putting her wedding ring on again. Other things he’d said came back to her as well, things she’d scarcely heeded in her dismay over the proposed separation. Something about forgiving him for the unhappiness of their marriage, the mention of a chance to become the kind of husband she deserved. If she understood him correctly, it seemed to be an opportunity he desired.
To think she’d been disappointed when Bennett made no effusive declaration of affection. Had she not watched him struggle these past weeks to demonstrate his deep love for their son? Had she not learned that deeds spoke louder and truer than words?
No words, no caresses, not even the most rapturous bliss of lovemaking could express his feelings with such poignant clarity as this choice he’d offered her.
Clearly Caroline had made her choice and she wanted to be free of him.
Bennett faced that harsh certainty as he and Wyn headed back to the house a few hours later. He had not left himself much time to catch the boat to St Mary’s, but perhaps that was for the best. Quick farewells were less awkward, after all.
He and Wyn had spent such an enjoyable morning together, he’d been reluctant to see their treasure hunt end. Besides, if this was to be their last day together for quite some time, he wanted to make it one the boy would later recall with pleasure. Earlier in the day, he’d kept an anxious eye out for Caroline, glancing up expectantly at every little sound. But she had not joined them. As the hours wore on, Bennett came to the bitter realisation that she never would.
He made a determined effort to hide his dejection from Wyn and believed he’d succeeded. Of course, the child was so absorbed in their search for treasure that he might not have noticed anyway.
‘What do you reckon Mama will think of all this?’ Wyn clutched a small, battered wooden casket to his chest.
Bennett reached out to ruffle his son’s hair. ‘I’m certain she’ll be most impressed with your treasure.’
The box was the one Caroline had discovered in the attic, containing some old coins and fragments of jewellery, and he knew she would make a suitable fuss over it for their son’s benefit. She was a surprisingly good actress when she needed to be. The past few weeks, for example, when she’d made him hope she might feel something for him that ran deeper than physical desire.
He recalled a passage of Scripture he’d often heard quoted: ‘For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.’ He now knew his treasure and his heart lay with his family.
At least he would have the memory of these special weeks on the island to cherish in the years to come.
As he and Wyn approached the house, Caroline suddenly appeared, running towards them. From the look of rapturous welcome that illuminated her face, one might have thought they’d been gone for months, rather than a few hours. ‘There you are! I was afraid you’d run off with your booty to live the high life abroad.’
A burst of sweet, infectious laughter assured Bennett she was only teasing. It grieved him to recall his irrational fear that she had meant to run away abroad with their son.
His gaze lingered over her as she caught Wyn in a warm embrace. With her golden hair gleaming in the sunlight and her blue-green eyes dancing with delight, Caroline appeared as fresh and vibrant as when they’d first met. Yet there was an air of sweet ripeness about her that appealed to him far more that that frivolous girl. It seemed almost as if she’d been reborn. Could this be how Sir Gawain’s Lady had looked when her spell was finally broken? He only wished she had not needed to be free of him to undergo such a transformation.
As he watched his wife and son with painful longing, Caroline suddenly reached out and pulled him into their embrace. A rogue spark of hope inside him ignited a blaze of elation and a pyre of fear. Was this only a gesture of gratitude for the freedom he’d offered her…or could it be something more?
Wyn was too excited to remain confined in his parents’ arms very long. Far too soon for Bennett’s liking, the lad wriggled free. ‘Look what we found, Mama! It was just where the map showed it would be, down near Oliver’s Battery.’
He thrust the box towards Caroline so she could examine his loot. ‘Do you think it was left here by pirates? Or maybe the knights of Camelot?’
Just as Bennett had expected, she looked over Wyn’s treasure with eager admiration. ‘I imagine this is the treasure of a noble knight.’
As she spoke, Caroline cast Bennett a playful smile that made his heart bound. This must be more than gratitude, surely. His gaze darted to her left hand, searching for a glint of gold at the base of her ring finger.
But in spite of how hard and hopefully he looked, her wedding band was not there. Disappointment struck him a hard blow in the pit of his stomach.
What had he expected? his conscience demanded. He had presented her with so many compelling reasons to leave him and not a single one to stay. He’d hoped she might recognise his willingness to sacrifice everything he valued to secure her happiness as the ultimate proof of his love.
But what if Caroline had mistaken his offer as a measure of how much he wanted to be rid of her? After all, she’d known far more cold rejection in the past than she had of open, effusive affection. But she needed that kind of love, just as the flowers around Tresco Abbey needed warm sunshine and shelter from the harsh sea wind to thrive.
‘They are wonderful treasures.’ Caroline returned a tarnished old necklace with a broken clasp to the box, handling it as carefully as one of the Crown Jewels. ‘You and your papa were very clever to find them. Now, I’m certain Albert and Parker would like to see all this. Why don’t you go show them? Mrs Jenkins has something for you to eat. You must be hungry after such a busy morning.’
The prospect of food and a fresh audience for his treasure sent Wyn scrambling towards the house without a backward glance. His parents watched him go with a mixture of fondness and pride. Then, all at once, it seemed to dawn on them that they were alone, without the familiar buffer of their son’s presence.