by Julie Matern
He ran along the street until he came to a bridge and clung to its railings as his mind tried to make sense of the knowledge he had just acquired. He focused on a leaf bobbing on the waves in an attempt to order his thoughts. Up and down, round and round.
Since Francesca had confessed to him that she was adopted, he had unwittingly fabricated a history for her of his own making. He had taken it for granted that she was the daughter of a gentleman who had compromised a young woman of rank. He had had no facts upon which to base his theory, and he now saw how foolish he was! Like it or not, he was a product of his own rank and era but he hated that his hitherto unwavering support for her was now floundering; he had considered himself quite a forward thinker, not bound by the rules of society, but were not these new feelings of disdain proof that he was a hypocrite of the first order? Her sweet features appeared before his eyes, and he tried to purge the unwelcome feelings of prejudice, but they would not flee! He tugged at his hair and let go a howl of despair. The anguish stripped him of energy and he hobbled along like a drunken man, from post to post, until he could flag a cab.
The jolting of the carriage on cobblestones mimicked the reeling of his mind. He painfully admitted that his love was no longer his equal in rank or birth and that it did matter.
His disappointment with his own weakness was acute.
He entered his rooms and flung himself on the bed, emotions still raging. In this delirium, his fevered mind accused him, like a barrister for the prosecution, of hypocrisy and inconstancy. The defense feebly argued the case for the validity of such feelings after a lifetime of societal indoctrination. On and on the two players raged, and Phillip could find no peace.
As the dawn broke, he fell into a disturbed sleep and missed the early morning calls of the news criers, proclaiming the failure of certain ventures in America.
T
As the sun steadily penetrated the gloom of his room, Phillip awoke reluctantly with a headache of gigantic proportions. The mercy of hazy consciousness was a temporary forgetting of the misery of the night before, but as he pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes in an attempt to relieve the pressure, the awful memory sprang to life.
He mentally stepped back to examine his emotions only to discover that he was still filled with a kind of abhorrence that further depressed him. He dressed carelessly and scurried away to his chambers, late.
On opening the door to his work place, he found it in an uproar with clerks running hither and thither so that no one noticed his late arrival. He slipped through the crazed maze of people, slumped into his desk, and opened the closest file, but the words merely swam before his bloodshot eyes and he could think of nothing but Francesca.
The excessive noise and commotion barely touched his consciousness, but at length another legal novice, the one he had not found at the soiree of the previous evening, collapsed into the chair of the desk adjoining his, muttering, “Well, this is a bad business!”
Phillip raised his weary head and tried to focus on his colleague but found he had neither the desire nor the energy to understand and dropped it again.
“Phillip, what the devil is wrong with you? Can you not see the mayhem? Fie! Are you not concerned? The crash of ventures in America means we will not be paid by a significant number of clients!”
“The crash?”
“You must have heard the criers and seen the newspapers, surely? It is all anyone is talking of.” He examined Phillip more thoroughly.
“Are you ill, man? Indeed, you look very unwell. Perhaps you should go home.”
Phillip nodded vaguely and staggered to his feet. Pushing his way through the beavering minions, he knocked on the door of the head of chambers, who was pacing his office, mumbling to himself.
“Sir Edward, I wonder if I might take the day off,” he ventured. “I am not feeling well …”
“Take the whole wretched week off, sir! It will take us at least that long to work though this mess. And if our chambers are still standing by the end of the week, it will be a miracle!”
He stopped pacing and glanced at Phillip. “Good heavens! Look at you! Are your family’s fortunes tied up in this American thing? You look as though Armageddon is approaching!”
“What? Oh no, I don’t believe so, sir. I just have a fearsome headache and need to go home.”
“Yes, yes, I can see that you are not well. Take the week as you will be of no use to us until we get our affairs in order anyway.”
Sir Edward Blythe resumed his pacing and muttering, and Phillip discreetly closed the door.
Upon returning to his dingy rooms, Phillip could think of nothing but ridding his breast of the disturbing feelings flourishing there and sank to his knees, pleading with God to purge the prejudice from his heart, petitioning for the negative feelings to be replaced by the pure love of old. So lengthy were his appeals to the Almighty that he fell asleep and was woken by a pain from such prolonged kneeling. He roused and shifted, continuing to beseech the Lord for the peace that passes all understanding.
Another hour passed while he patiently waited, listening. As he was about to give up all hope, a dawning awareness of a conversion began as a warm peace almost imperceptibly permeated his soul. The sensation grew steadily until it completely filled his heart with a feeling of intense euphoria and he heard the quiet words, “The worth of all souls is great in the sight of God.”
He repeated the satisfying revelation over and over in his mind and in so doing experienced a serenity that confirmed that the words were true, that man had created class distinctions but that to God, all men were equal. He continued to wait on the Spirit of the Lord.
“True worthiness depends on conduct not rank.” The voice was still and small but, like a two-edged sword, it penetrated to his very soul. He thanked God for the clear and unmistakable answer. Tranquility had at last replaced agitation.
He jumped up and, throwing a few possessions in a bag, ran out to the street and hailed a carriage. It was time to go back home, home to Francesca.
Thirty-Four
UV
FRANCE
Mrs. Oliver handed Lady Augusta a letter. She ungraciously snatched the note from her maid and growled, “Who knows where I am? I have told no one! Have you betrayed me?”
The maid held her mistress’s gaze with effort and the merest hint of a glance to the left, and resolutely said, “No.”
Lady Augusta continued to regard her maid with suspicion as she broke open the seal, not noticing that it was her son’s. Dragging her eyes away, Lady Augusta reluctantly read the words and let out an involuntary shriek. “I am saved!”
Mrs. Oliver widened her eyes with interest and Lady Haversham, realizing her error in betraying the contents of the letter, stood up and pushed the maid out the door. Once it was closed she leaned back upon it and read the letter again, this time in its entirety.
Dear Mama,
Firstly, please do not ask how I have found you, if indeed this letter does reach you.
I am writing to tell you that Haversham Hall has been saved from the creditors and there will be a little money upon which to live and keep the servants, if you live wisely.
Ha! What impudence! I have always spent wisely! she thought, but continued reading.
Father has been very low since you left but on learning that the hall will be saved has rallied. Though humbled by his errors of mismanagement, he has gained a renewed desire to live.
“Stupid man! It is all his own fault anyway and if he had died from remorse I should not have cared!” she exclaimed out loud, to no one. She resumed reading.
We should very much like for you to come home and be reconciled to us and perhaps find it in your heart to forgive Father.
“The audacity!” she retorted. She returned to the letter.
We await your response,
Your loving son,
John
She crushed the letter in her fist and looked out the window at the azure sea. She had now been i
n France for six weeks and had kept mostly to her rooms for lack of money and fear of being discovered. She had to concede that she greatly missed society and the admiration of her peers.
The only obstacle to returning to England now was whether the nature of Francesca’s true parentage had become common knowledge. The letter gave no indication. The fear of being humiliated was potent, but the hunger for the respect she was so used to was stronger. The two competing emotions clamored in her mind as she paced back and forth across the room.
After some time, she became aware of a new advantage. She would no longer have to escape the apartment without settling her bill! She would refer them to her husband and he could pay with whatever money he had managed to secure. The arrival of the letter had tipped the scales in favor of return. Not once did she consider to whom she was beholden.
T
ENGLAND
“Francesca saved us?” cried Augusta Haversham. It was more of a shriek than a question. “I am obligated to that little—”
“Now, now my dear be very careful what you say,” said her husband. “We have treated Francesca abominably, and she did not need to save the Hall. In fact, our son warned her against such charity, but she would not be deterred. I fear we are undeserving of such generosity after our conduct.”
“Undeserving? Undeserving! We, whose blood runs pure blue, undeserving! This country owes us much for all that we have done. Why, we are the backbone of polite society. Who should deserve the help more than us?” Augusta burst out with flashing eyes.
“I feel compelled to point out that it is not the ‘country,’ as you put it, that has bailed us out, but our own granddaughter. None of our so-called friends are banging down the doors to help, though the reversal in our fortunes is well known. In fact, Lord Denby sent a letter informing me that those we had thought were our friends are celebrating our demise, and he wrote to warn me against coming into town.”
Augusta collapsed onto a chaise. “Our disgrace is public knowledge, then?” she asked, through gritted teeth.
“Oh yes! The plumed and painted birds of London are crowing over our misfortunes. I am afraid that we are reaping what we have so carefully sown. For myself, this kindness on the part of Francesca has rendered me more humble, though I still struggle with the facts of her birth. You would do well to learn that lesson too, Augusta.”
“But it is all insufferable! We are to have no money of our own, then? If my parents could see how low you have brought me—”
“I accept all the responsibility for losing our fortunes. I speculated too much and was over confident in my own infallibility. There were signs and recommendations but I was too vain to accept them and now I have lost it all. Rage at me all you want! I have done that, and more, to myself in these last weeks. More from you will not harm me.”
“Ah! I am ashamed of you! And now I have not two pence of my own to set up somewhere away from you. I am trapped. Why could you not secure a bigger annual income from Francesca, at least? I should not have returned if I had known there was no income!”
“Augusta, do you have any idea how much money Francesca has put up to save the house and the staff? Dirty money it may be, but remember, she was not obliged to do any of this and could yet change her mind. You had better temper you anger.”
“Should she not help us? Is it not her duty to her grandparents?”
“One minute you reject her as kin and the next you claim entitlement to her fortune. You must decide where your principals lie, Augusta!”
“You have placed me in an impossible situation, John! Would that I had never been born!”
“You are being overdramatic, Augusta,” he sighed. “Our original plan was to orchestrate a marriage with that Langley fellow and dupe the two of them into supporting us anyway, though at that time we were not so destitute. Though the money is tainted, it is offered freely as a gift—the result is the same, is it not? We have been saved from a life of begging from our friends and losing our home. Perhaps that renders the fortune less distasteful. Thanks to Francesca, we can live an agreeable life here, a more quiet life to be sure, but an agreeable one.”
“You stupid man! A quiet life is a prison to me. I crave the associations of society and will wither and die here. You must insist that she give us a more generous allowance!”
“I will do nothing of the sort! I fear we must learn to lay on the bed we have made. My horror of destitution outweighs my aversion to the girl’s lowly station, and if we give offense, she may withdraw the offer.”
“The bed you have made! You! Oh, that my life has come to this! I am leaving to stay with Lady Cornwallis in Yorkshire. She will not abandon me!”
Lord Haversham shook his head slowly as she made a dramatic exit. He thought she might.
Thirty-Five
UV
ENGLAND
Here is yet another one,” said Emily, holding up a card declining dinner.
“I am so glad that you did not attend any of the parties and dinners you had invitations to, darling. I fear that people would have been very rude and it would have been especially awkward for you. Are you very grieved?”
“Not at all, Mama. My recent experiences in Italy have opened my eyes to how ridiculous some of our genteel English ‘rules’ are. These rebuffs are not from people I have particular affection for, and I have the fondest hope that my true friends will continue to support me. After all, I am the same girl that left some months ago, am I not? If society cannot see that, then I think my life will be better without their patronage. And if my hopes are in vain, I can be assured that my parents will never leave me. If that is the worst of it, I think I can endure. Though to be sure, I hope not all my friends cut me.” She was thinking of Phillip, who had been suspiciously absent.
“Do you blame us, dearest? Things would have been very different had we told the truth from the start.”
“Of course not! I know things are a little complicated now, but intellectually, I understand why you did it. And Isabella was not truthful with you, either.” She dropped her voice and almost whispered, “Do you think you might not have kept me if you had known who my father was?”
There was a pause, and she looked up into her mother’s eyes searching for acceptance.
“Honestly? I was so desperate for a baby that I would have convinced your father to keep you, even if he had had objections! Had we known, he may have tried to point out the difficulties that it might bring in the future, but I would have swept his arguments aside. I do not regret one day of the eighteen years you have been with us. I hope that you know that you have made my life happy and complete and that this changes nothing for me!”
T
They had neither received nor been received when the date for Annabelle’s wedding arrived. Annabelle had been faithful and had written to confirm her support. Her parents had needed a little more persuasion.
Annabelle looked resplendent in her wedding finery and wore a very pretty bonnet with her veil. Her happiness was so apparent that it elevated her looks to beautiful. Francesca looked around the church cautiously and saw many people staring straight ahead. It was not a hopeful beginning.
Annabelle was much occupied at the wedding breakfast, and the cousins had very little time together, but Annabelle continued to assure Francesca of her friendship and that of her husband, to which he readily agreed. This warmed Francesca’s heart to Mr. Doyle considerably.
Francesca and her parents stayed together, and though everyone was careful of their manners at a wedding celebration, very few people actually engaged them in conversation, and many cast sideways glances at them. The temperature in the room was chill. Fortunately, Annabelle and Mr. Doyle seemed not to notice.
Everyone waved the happy couple goodbye as they left on their honeymoon, and after catching a snippet of whispered conversation about being surprised that such a person would be invited to the event, the Havershams quietly left to return home. The dipping of their toes into the societal pool had no
t gone well, and they departed for home to lick their wounds and adjust to their new normal.
T
Several days later, Francesca was spending time with her horse and confiding in him that she had neither seen nor heard from Phillip when she heard a cough. Turning around she was elated to see that it was Phillip, but immediately following that emotion she hesitated, recent experience telling her that he may not be seeking her company and may simply have come to tell her that they could no longer be friends. She held her breath.
Phillip held out his hand and gave a wry smile. “Do not worry, little thing. I have not come to reject you. Indeed, I have come to attest to my support in person.”
She moved to take his proffered hand, and he kissed hers but did not let it drop for several more seconds. She looked up, but he turned his head. “Let us take a walk around the estate,” he said, to which she readily agreed and left her horse, putting her arm through his.
“Before you pledge your loyalty, I must ask if you know it all, Phillip? If not, you might feel the need to withdraw your protection after I tell you the whole truth.”
“Be assured, I think I know it all, but I would like to hear it from you, just the same.”
She recounted in detail the meeting with her Italian grandfather and what she had learned about the woman who gave birth to her. She spoke of her grandfather’s hesitance to reveal her father’s identity given his low station and of meeting Antonio and feeling an affinity that surpassed class. She explained that he had risen to be head groom for a noble household and how she had offered him the same position at Giorgio’s Italian estate, now that it was hers, and how this would afford them the opportunity to build a relationship over time.
“Why did you not tell me this in your letter?” Phillip asked. “Did you fear my rejection?”
“Mama and Father encouraged me to tell no one so that it might not ruin my chances at marriage. They feared that if I wrote about it, someone might intercept the letter and betray my secret. However, in spite of our precautions, it appears my secret has been discovered.”