If only he had never met Oldham. It was he who had helped awaken this sleeping beast, this black dragon within his breast. As for the woman, she was in some way connected with Oldham and now she was blackmailing him. Suppose Ellie was ever to find out the depths he had sunk to, the dubious pleasures Sue performed on him. He had no doubt Sue would delight in the chance of telling his wife all the gory details and shocking her beyond expression. Then Ellie would throw him out of their home. She would seek a divorce and make him a laughing stock before the rest of society and rightly so. He would deserve it.
Even the Millais-Ruskin scandal would be nothing compared to this.
Perhaps he would fall sick and die of something. Then at least he would be mourned and the whole situation would be resolved.
No, he didn’t really want to die. He wanted his happy family home, his clear conscience and his comfortable existence back again. That was what he wanted more than anything else. But that had fled from him forever.
Chapter 29
‘I intend to go to Derbyshire to see Lottie.’
A happy, smiling Ellie entered Fred’s study, carrying a letter in her hand, which she waved at him. ‘Her baby will be due soon and I must be near her at that time.’
‘Why should you be there? You have enough to do here at home with your own family. She has other friends and relations now she is married into the Pendletons. There are whole crowds of them and they’re all interfering busybodies. Let them attend her.’
She stared at him. He would never have spoken in that hard, negative manner before. Now he seemed to care little about anything or anyone. He turned away from her now, distracted, apparently busy with his accounts and papers.
‘Listen to me, Fred,’ she said, sitting on the chair beside him and putting a hand on his to still its rapid jerky movements, ‘listen to me, dear. I truly want to visit my friend Charlotte. We haven’t seen one another since her wedding and that was last spring. You forget – she is almost like a sister to me. I’ve known her since she was born. And I have no sisters of my own. Will you not allow me this one sisterly act?’
He looked up at this.
He felt a sense of sheer panic at the idea of Ellie going away anywhere. He was constantly afraid that every time she made a call on a friend, or went to visit his mother, that she might meet with someone who would tell her the truth about his hidden life. Suppose someone had seen him with Sue? Suppose she met Oldham somewhere when she went up north to see Charlotte? These things spread around and his mother in particular had an uncanny way of knowing what anyone was doing despite the fact that she seldom moved from that sofa of hers. To upset Ellie would give her the greatest delight, he knew that. His mind whirled with possibilities and fears.
He also knew that he was being a fool. Nobody could possibly have learnt his secret. It was in Sue’s interest to keep him dangling. She wasn’t going to kill the goose that lay the golden egg.
Ellie waited patiently for a response. A frown crossed her face.
‘Is something wrong… perhaps with our finances, Fred? You always seem so troubled. Are we in some sort of difficulty?’
‘No, no, nothing is wrong. There’s no problem there at all.’
‘Then… what is it?’
He averted his face under her searching, puzzled gaze and stared out of the window into space, his thoughts miles away. After a few moments, he came back to the present and looked at her with a start as if surprised to find her still there. The look on her face frightened him a little as if she understood, as if she knew. What had she just said… finances… no, not that. She had asked about going to Charlotte’s place. Oh, damn Charlotte, damn all the Dillingers!
‘Don’t go, Ellie, stay here with me. I really do so hate it when you go away.’
‘But you are off to Liverpool yourself next week.’ Ellie protested. ‘You won’t miss us. We shall be at Pendleton Hall and it isn’t too far from Liverpool, is it? Call on us after you complete your business. Lottie would be so delighted to see you.’
‘I shall be away for three days, you will stay at Charlotte’s for some weeks – I know you women. No, Ellie, I want you and the children here when I return. That’s final.’
Ellie accepted with very bad grace, unused to being thwarted.
As she went out of the room, she turned to him and said, ‘I wouldn’t mind if there was a good reason but I see no reason at all. You are becoming very objectionable of late.’
When Fred had left for Liverpool to meet up with various interested patrons of art, Ellie felt irritated and restless.
Fred cares nothing for me any more, she thought, he has hardly registered the fact that my beloved Pa has died and how I feel so lonely and sad without him. This is not the kindly man I married. I am almost beginning to hate him.
Dillinger had written to tell her that he would be in London this week and would call on her later that afternoon. He at least would sympathise with her. The loss of his friend, Joshua, had meant a great deal to him as well. It was someone to talk to about Papa, someone who had known him since Oxford days. People found Dillie stern and unbending but to her he was eternally kind.
She was still in mourning clothes but the weather was turning warmer by the day so she sent Mulhall to find a fine black cotton dress, which had been packed away during the winter. Charlie, now out of frocks, was at his lessons. Mary was being taken for a walk by the nursemaid.
While she waited for the dress to be found, pressed and made fit to wear, Ellie decided to pass her time by turning out the contents of her jewellery box. She now had to confine herself to mourning jewellery. Delving into the large, carved box, which had once been her mother’s, she found a large, heavy necklace that had belonged to Maria made of Whitby jet. However, it was too ornate for her taste and looked wrong around her slender neck. Her mother had worn it for a while after Grandmother Templeton had died and then for a succession of uncles and aunts. It had suited Maria well and she had dressed in black a good deal of the time, even when no longer in mourning.
After the garnets and pearls, Ellie found the diamond necklace and earrings Fred had bought for her wedding day, still in their velvet casing in a small leather box. She seldom wore them, only to very special balls, grand dinners and theatre occasions. She paused to look at them and sighed. It had not really been the happy day she had dreamt her marriage day might be. She had loved Fred but at that time was still so unsure and troubled over Alfie.
She let her mind roam to Alfie and the past. She saw his face very clearly all of a sudden, almost as if he was there in the room. It made her look up with a little start but the room was empty and silent, motes of dust floating idly in the sunbeams. She remembered little incidents like the day Alfie had set off on one of his adventures and she and the two little boys and baby Charlotte had all trailed after him across brooks and meadows, daring cattle and other wild creatures, to find some imaginary place he was bent on finding. Charlotte had ended up screaming and protesting and Ellie had carried her all the way back. Eventually the two younger boys had also given up and meandered back home but Alfie had carried on in his search for El Dorado or whatever it was he was looking for and arrived home much later in the day, dishevelled, muddy, cheerful and happy. He was born to be a wanderer, she thought with a sigh. Ah, Alfie! Where was he wandering now?
Then she thought of him as he taught her to climb trees and make swords from long pieces of wood and bows from supple branches from which they would fire arrows. He knew how to fletch the arrows with feathers and put tips on them and they made quite deadly weapons for shooting down birds or firing off at invading rabbits. As they had grown older, they had become more and more like companions-in-arms, leaving the smaller children to play while they went off into the woods to enjoy their own imaginary adventures. She laughed at the memory. Alfie had made her an honorary boy. Now he seemed like some sweet distant dream, but it no longer gave her pain.
Suddenly Ellie noticed a small, yellowing piece of paper
stuck beneath a little tray in which there were some more jet beads. These beads she had worn when Alfie died. She lifted out the tray and found wedged beneath a piece of paper. It bore the seal of the Dillinger family and she looked at this little billet-doux with amazement. It was years since she had received this note from Alfie! He had sent it that morning with fruit and then arrived to make his declaration to her. She had never seen him again. It had lain here forgotten all this while.
By now, Mulhall had returned and was busy sewing some button or lace on a dress sleeve. Ellie hastily tucked the note into a small pocket Bible, which lay on the dressing table and hoped the maid had not noticed but Mulhall was concentrating on threading the needle with black thread. Ellie felt frustrated. She wanted to be alone and savour it once more but she would look at it later and then the note must be burned and forgotten forever.
It made her feel all the more that she wanted to see Dillinger and seek a little consolation and sympathy as Fred seemed far too caught up in secret problems of his own to fulfil that role. She had her own troubled suspicions as to what those problems might be.
‘I don’t believe it! Have you seen this announcement in the Times, Ellie?’
Ellie looked up from her breakfast plate and stared at Fred as if waking up. She had been deep in thought, remembering her conversation with Dillie. They had spoken for what seemed like hours about the past. Dillie had been as much moved and saddened by her father’s death as herself and it had been wonderful to cry a little and be comforted, to talk about Joshua and her love for him and listen to anecdotes and stories from her father’s youth from someone who had known him since they had been up at Oxford together. Dillinger had spoken often of Joshua’s meeting with Maria and their marriage.
‘We were both in love with Maria Templeton – in fact, I think every male in London was in love with her.’ His smile was sad. ‘She was the most beautiful woman in society then. To think I introduced your father to her. I wanted to marry Maria myself but the family had other designs for me.’
‘But you loved Lady Mary, surely?’
‘It was an arranged marriage, but I certainly did learn to love and respect my dear wife. She was a gracious and charming person. No man could have wished for better. I miss her sorely,’ said Dillinger. He sighed a little and his gaze seemed to wander back to the past.
Ellie looked at him with sympathy. At times, she sensed a vast loneliness in Dillinger. His sons were now at Oxford; his daughter married and moved up north. His eyes sometimes seemed to bear such sadness in them that it made her feel his pain in her own heart. When had this look come to his face? Since his son and then his wife had died. Or had it always been there?
Dillinger always seemed to brush these moments of feeling and sentiment away as if they were annoying cobwebs. He had gone on to tell her such amusing tales about the House of Lords and the foibles of its varied members that her heart had lightened considerably.
She brought herself back to the present with some effort.
‘What is it in the Times that so enthrals you?’ she asked at last.
‘Well, I wondered if you were interested! You will never guess what has happened… just take a deep breath.’
‘For goodness sakes, do say or I’ll throw the marmalade pot at you!’
‘Henry and Tippy were married on the 16th
June at St. Biddulph’s Church, Dover! They are honeymooning in Paris.’
She was as amazed as Fred had meant her to be.
‘I know Gabriel Rossetti has married Lizzie Siddal at long last, now that the poor girl is about to die – but Tippy and Henry! I’m disappointed that they had so quiet and sudden a wedding. I thought you were to be best man.’
‘I thought so too, but Henry was always a one for sudden decisions. He made a fair bit of money with some of his latest commissions so I suppose he felt this was as good a time as any other. He’ll write from Paris with suitable apologies. I guessed something was in the air. He wrote the other day to say he’d just rented a very nice house along Cheyne Walk.’
‘He must be doing well, then. You never mentioned receiving a letter from Henry. You don’t tell me anything nowadays,’ Ellie grumbled.
‘We haven’t seen that much of one another to talk about things of late. Apparently, you are entertaining Lord Dillinger most of the time… ‘
‘Oh, so this is what it’s all about, is it? This stupid jealousy of yours. That’s what’s eating you and making you such miserable company. Well, let me tell you something… at least you know where I am. I never know where you are!’ snapped Ellie.
Fred fell silent for a moment or two but did not pursue this dangerous theme. He hated Ellie’s need for these constant little meetings with Lord Dillinger but he could say little about it; his own conscience was far from clear.
‘Sometimes, I don’t even think I care!’ she added and rose from the table, flinging her napkin down and leaving him with a teacup half way to his lips.
He put his cup down and stared after her in surprise. She spoke in anger and he felt a rebuke in what she said. It was unlike Ellie to be critical and cross and it unsettled him considerably.
Later that day he went to the auctions rooms to oversee the sale of some pictures. He set aside a beautiful little painting he had acquired with regret. Sue had demanded that he brought it to her forthwith. Just like his mother, she always seemed to know what was going on at any place and any time. She also knew pretty much what he had recently acquired on the market and he was puzzled by this. He began to wonder if Oldham was obtaining and passing the information to her for he often came across that gentleman in the auction rooms, looking carefully about him and making notes. When they met face to face, Oldham appeared just as always but Fred was frostily polite to him, scarcely passing the time of day. Oldham would then look at him with a faintly contemptuous smile on his face that made Fred angry and humiliated. This man knew his shame and mocked him without words.
Fred began to feel a vague sense of paranoia. It was as if these people had him body and soul. He felt as if there were spies everywhere about him. Who was to be trusted?
It was later that evening when the little ones had been brought down from the nursery to see him before dinner that Fred experienced a sudden deep change of heart. He sat by the fireside with his little daughter, Mary, on his lap. She was looking up at him with her large, dark ringed blue eyes as if studying his every feature. He stroked her soft, fair hair and felt glad that the child seemed to have overcome her childhood frailness thanks to her mother’s gentle care and love. Yet she remained a quiet, withdrawn, little mite without much spirit. She was Fred’s especial little pet for he felt a tenderness for her frailty and sensitivity.
Ellie had been especially sweet and attentive to him of late and she looked particularly beautiful that evening as she sat opposite him, smiling, reading aloud to Charlie from Good Words for the Young. It was an amusing tale about a little boy riding the West Wind and having all sorts of adventures as he travelled from one country to another. Charlie stood by his mother’s side, watching her turn the pages and looking at the pictures enthralled.
Fred sat and considered them all as if standing outside himself looking at this blissful, family picture. He thought to himself with a faint touch of humour of various popular pictures of the day where the griefstricken wife flings herself at her husband’s feet having betrayed him. She would, by popular opinion and demand, be sent forth lonely, unwanted, cast off into a cruel, critical, harsh and condemnatory world. Once he and his family had sent poor Bessie and her child out thus and now his first, unclaimed daughter had become a whore under the influence of that wretch Oldham and his mistress Sue Witherspoon. Fred felt his heart surge painfully at the thought.
I am not alone, he thought, other men have done the same and think nothing of it. But my conscience troubles me. Why were women always shown as the offenders in these matters when men were by far worse? Why not a picture of a man kneeling in penitence at the
woman’s feet, begging her forgiveness? He would not be cast out in the street. Look at Millais. He had pulled out of the scandal of running off with another man’s wife without blame but Effie Ruskin, though now his wife, was still whispered about by the gossips and shunned by the Queen.
He could not help but think how lucky he was to have such a delightful family, such a beautiful and devoted wife and then he thought of Sue… damn and blast, his cock was stiffening at the mere thought! And he had his child on his lap! He almost bit his tongue in an effort to control himself.
Mary now put her arms about Fred’s neck and stood up on his lap. She pushed back his hair that was growing a little long and put a finger on a nasty red mark on his neck.
‘Papa hurt’, she said, rubbing at the mark.
Fred felt his face flush a deep red. Ellie looked at him surprised and said, ‘what is it, Fred?’
‘Nothing, dearest, nothing. I caught myself on a branch in the garden and it scratched me,’ he replied. Ellie nodded then returned to the book, Charlie tugging her sleeve impatiently.
He set Mary down on the ground and rose, making some excuse to leave the room. His blood had slowly drained away from his face and left him now white as a sheet. He felt terrible. Something must be done or his peace of mind would never return. It simply was not worth it all. Nothing was worth the anguish of conscience he now endured.
How was it that he was a good man at heart and yet within him dwelt such a degenerate being? Why did his faults induce him to commit acts, which outraged his virtues?
Loretta Proctor Page 25