The Shadow Sister

by Lucinda Riley

  ‘Forgive me, Flora, for my selfishness. You know that I always did wear my heart on my sleeve, and just because there seems to be an ideal solution I accept that it may not be so for you.’

  ‘Thank you for coming to see me. I shall write to you with my decision.’

  ‘And although I will await it eagerly, you must take as much time as you need.’

  They walked to the front door and Flora opened it. ‘Goodbye, Archie.’

  ‘I just want to reiterate before I leave that I would accept your presence at High Weald on any terms you wished to stipulate. And I would not presume to think there would be any . . . relationship between us. Although I wish to tell you that my love for you burns on. However guilty that makes me feel, I cannot help it. It is simply a part of me. But the most important person in this whole sorry mess is my motherless child. Now, I will do as you ask and leave you alone. Goodbye.’

  As Archie walked down the path, for the first time, Flora noticed he had a pronounced limp.

  Over the following two days, she read and reread her sister’s letter. She took Teddy walking up on the fells, asking the blades of grass that tickled her nose as they lay in the shade of a tree, the larks that soared overhead, and the heavens themselves for advice and guidance.

  They remained as silent on the question as her own soul. Eventually, her tired mind desperate for a resolution, she strapped Teddy into his sling and walked down the lane to visit her best friend and advisor.

  ‘Well, well,’ Beatrix said, as they sat together in her garden, drinking tea. She had listened without interruption as Flora had poured out the newest chapter of her life. ‘I must say, you do seem to have an innate capacity for attracting drama. But then, your background was extraordinary from the start. Firstly, I must give you my condolences on the loss of your poor sister. So young, and, given the letter you read me, so generous. And clever, might I add.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Surely you can see that her parting gift to the husband and the sister she loved was to find a way of reuniting the two of you? From what you have told me in the past, she has always been fully aware of the mutual feeling between you. And at the same time, it would enable her to give her beloved daughter a proper mother, rather than growing up with an elderly nurse. Can’t you see that she wanted to grant all three of you the happiness she felt you deserved?’

  ‘Yes. But even if I did decide to go, what would people think?’

  ‘As if you or I have ever cared about that!’ Beatrix laughed. ‘And what could be more natural than the dead mother’s spinster sister arriving to take care of her niece? I guarantee you that not an eyebrow will be raised.’

  ‘And what if . . . ?’

  ‘Archie and you were to resume your relationship?’ Beatrix finished for her. ‘Again, I think that after a sufficient passage of time, everyone would be glad for the motherless child and the poor widower, so soon back from the war as a hero and enduring another tragic loss.’

  ‘And Archie himself? I wonder how he can even bear to look at me without guilt clouding his vision.’

  ‘Flora, one thing I have learnt in my many years on this earth is that one must move forward and not look back. And I will guarantee you that your Lord Vaughan saw enough death and destruction in the war to convince him of this. As your sister said in her letter, we can’t choose who we love. He does not just have his wife’s blessing on such a future; she has positively encouraged it. There are no secrets left, nothing to feel guilty for. And being the pragmatist that you know I am, sadly, the dead are gone, and it’s pointless taking what may well be a wrong decision out of guilt.’

  ‘So, you think that we should go to High Weald?’

  ‘Flora, dear, it is perfectly obvious that you should. A human being without love is akin to a rosebud without water. It will survive for a time, but never open into full bloom. And you cannot deny that you love him.’

  ‘No, I cannot. I do.’ Flora voiced the words for the first time.

  ‘And you say he still loves you too. I think this is in so many ways serendipitous. Louise needs a mother and Teddy a father. The only sadness is that I would lose you as a neighbour.’

  ‘I would miss you dreadfully, Beatrix. And my animals and beloved Lakes.’

  ‘Well, there are always sacrifices to be made somewhere along the line. I would be happy to buy Wynbrigg Farm from you if you wished to sell it. My portfolio of land increases apace. I have just recently made my will, and once I am gone, the land will go to the National Trust to be given back to the people of the Lakes and preserved forever in perpetuity. But back to your conundrum. I can say no more to help you, other than do not dwell too long on your decision. It is so very easy to talk oneself out of changing one’s circumstances for the better. Especially when it frightens you. Remember that every day that passes is another day lost to your future. Now, I’m afraid I must get on. I have a new delivery of letters from my young readers in America on the subject of dear little Johnny Town-Mouse. I do so like to reply in person to each and every one of the children.’

  ‘Of course.’ Flora stood up and went to collect Teddy, who was lying under a tree, cooing at the birds singing above him. ‘Thank you for everything, Beatrix. I don’t know where I’d be without you.’ She felt a lump in her throat as she contemplated life without her friend close by.

  And in that moment, she knew she had made her decision.

  36

  Flora had not travelled to the south of England since the death of the King, her father. Stepping into the entrance hall of High Weald, she was assailed by a wave of memories, and also shock as she took in the state of the house and grounds, elevated for so long in her memory. As Archie showed her around the once magical gardens, careful to keep a respectful distance between them as he limped beside her, she noted the wilderness that had erupted since she’d last been here.

  ‘As you know, the Vaughan family has always had difficulty with their finances,’ Archie said grimly. ‘It was hard for Aurelia to keep the estate going while I was away and the young men of the village were fighting in France. Especially as my mother died only a few months after war broke out.’

  Upstairs in the nursery, Sarah welcomed her with joy and copious tears.

  ‘So tragic,’ she sniffed as she led Flora over to the cradle to introduce her to her niece. ‘After all this time, Aurelia has the baby she’s always craved, but she’s not here to see her. Beautiful she is too, with a gentle nature just like her mother.’

  Flora lifted Louise into her arms and felt an immediate wave of protective love wash over her.

  ‘Hello, little one,’ she cooed, as the baby lay placidly in her arms. At that moment, Teddy, perhaps sensing that Flora’s attention was elsewhere, began to scream from his travel basket. Sarah swept him up into her arms.

  ‘He’s a strong bairn,’ she said. ‘Lord Vaughan told me all about his family dying. It’s a generous thing you’ve both done by taking him in, Miss Flora, truly. And I know your sister would have approved too.’

  In the first two weeks, much of Flora’s time was spent with the babies, Teddy demanding the lion’s share of her attention. With Sarah there to support her, Flora had placed Teddy with Louise in the nursery at night, unwilling to continue to take him into bed with her. He’d screamed himself blue with indignation as Flora had paced outside, until one evening Sarah had said she would take over the night shift. Flora had gone to bed gratefully, and had woken the following morning from her first undisturbed night in weeks. Running to the nursery in panic, wondering if Teddy had died in the night, she saw Sarah knitting in a chair by the window.

  ‘Morning, Miss Flora,’ she said, as she watched her dash to Teddy’s bassinet and find it empty.

  ‘Where is he?’ demanded Flora.

  ‘Look over there.’ Sarah pointed to Louise’s cradle.

  And there was Teddy, his tiny head nestled against Louise’s, both of them sound asleep.

  ‘He just likes company, I
’d reckon,’ said Sarah. ‘He started to cry and I put him in the cradle with Louise. I haven’t heard a peep out of either of them since.’

  ‘Sarah, you’re a wonder,’ Flora sighed with relief.

  ‘Only what I used to do with Aurelia when she fretted at night. I popped her in with you. They look like twins, them two, being the same age an’ all.’

  ‘Yes, they do,’ Flora agreed.

  Archie arrived later in the nursery to say good morning to his daughter and observed the two babies in the cradle.

  ‘So peaceful,’ he said. ‘Maybe it was all meant to be.’

  Touching Flora lightly on the shoulder, he left the room.

  As Sarah began to take over more duties in the nursery, Flora found herself with time to spare. Used to being outside from dawn to dusk in the Lakes, she began to take morning walks around the farmland and gardens to enjoy the summer air, only wishing she could get her hands dirty in the flower beds, whose beauty was choked and hidden by weeds.

  But the gardens were Archie’s territory, not hers. So far, the two of them had formed a silent tacit agreement to keep to their own spaces out of respect for Aurelia – a task that was not difficult, given the size of the house. They ate together at night, their food badly cooked by a local elderly woman, the only one to accept the paltry amount Archie could offer.

  Sitting in the dining room, they would discuss the children’s welfare in detail – a neutral topic of conversation that filled the silences, even though so much remained unsaid between them. Flora would excuse herself immediately after pudding had been served and take herself up to bed.

  Of course, she was not tired. Even a few seconds spent with Archie set her nerve endings tingling. And during the hot August nights, her window open to let in the merest breath of breeze, she even longed for Teddy to wake up and scream – at least it would break the monotony of the impure thoughts that stayed with her until dawn.

  However, as September approached, the time when nature – especially of the controlled variety – needed attention if it were to survive the winter, Flora decided to confront Archie. She found him in the orchard, filling a wheelbarrow with windfall from the plum trees.

  ‘Hello,’ he said, almost shyly.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Is everything all right with the children?’

  ‘Perfect. They’re having their afternoon nap.’

  ‘Good. It’s wonderful they have each other for company.’

  ‘Yes, it is. Archie, can we talk?’

  ‘Of course. Is something wrong?’

  ‘No, not at all. I just . . . well, if I am to stay here at High Weald and it is to become my home too . . . I would like to make a contribution.’

  ‘Flora, you already do.’

  ‘I mean, a financial contribution. The estate needs an investment of funds, and due to my . . . father’s legacy and the sale of Wynbrigg Farm, I have them available.’

  ‘I appreciate the offer, but you must remember that your family has already contributed to the bottomless pit of High Weald with the sale of Esthwaite Hall. Perhaps you are not aware of the amount it costs just to run the estate, let alone improve it.’

  ‘Well, I could at least offer my own services free of charge in the gardens? And maybe employ a couple of young men to assist us?’

  ‘If you can find any still alive,’ Archie murmured darkly. ‘I realise that I am . . . not what I was.’ He indicated his leg.

  ‘I would like to try, for if we don’t do something before the winter, your work here will go to waste. And it will keep me occupied. Sarah becomes more irritated by the day at my constant visits to the nursery.’

  ‘Then I would be grateful for any assistance you can give me.’ He smiled at her. ‘Thank you.’

  For the rest of September, the two of them worked every daylight hour in the walled garden. Flora had also managed to find a couple of ex-soldiers in the village who were glad to lend a hand with the clearing.

  Back in her element, with a more ladylike set of gardening clothes that Sarah had sewn for her, Flora felt calmer. Nowadays, instead of the strained small talk over dinner, the two of them discussed pruning and weeding and pored over seed catalogues. And the sound of laughter began to trickle back through the walls of High Weald.

  Sometimes in the afternoons, Flora would set the perambulator under the enormous yew tree while they worked, Teddy and Louise sleeping soundly together side by side.

  ‘They really are like twins,’ Archie said as he looked down at the babies one balmy September afternoon. ‘Who could have believed it?’

  Who could? Flora thought as she fell into bed that night, exhausted from a hard day’s work in the garden. At least it aided her sleep, although she wondered how long she could go on suppressing her feelings. Spending more time with Archie had made her painfully aware of how the war had changed him. The exuberant young man whom she had loved had matured into a thoughtful and contemplative adult. Often, she would notice him drifting away, his eyes filling with sadness as he perhaps relived a memory of what he had suffered. And watched others suffer, too.

  Archie had a new vulnerability that had washed away any of his old conceit. And which only endeared him to her more. He had behaved impeccably towards her during the last few weeks, and Flora had wondered recently whether she’d dreamt the fact that he’d said he still loved her.

  Besides, they still walked in the shadow cast over High Weald by Aurelia’s death. Whatever her letter had said, Flora mused often on whether it would ever disperse.

  The nights began to draw in and, desperate to finish the work before the winter frost arrived, Archie and Flora began to toil in the gardens by the light of lanterns.

  ‘I’m all in for tonight,’ Archie announced one chilly October evening, pulling himself to standing, which Flora could see was an effort. She watched as he lit a cigarette – a habit he’d picked up from the war – and wandered over to the yew tree.

  ‘You go in. I’ll finish up here,’ she suggested.

  ‘You know the light of the lanterns and the nip in the air reminds me of that night I kissed you here,’ Archie remarked.

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Flora muttered.

  ‘Of the kiss, or the circumstances?’

  ‘You know very well which, Archie.’ Flora turned back to the flower bed.

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a pause.

  ‘I wish I could kiss you again, Flora.’

  ‘I . . .’

  A sudden touch on her shoulder made her realise he had moved behind her. He took her hand and pulled her to standing, then turned her round to face him. ‘Can I? Love is never wrong, darling Flora, it’s only the timing that can be. And this time, it’s perfect,’ he murmured.

  She looked at him, trying to formulate an answer, but before she could, his lips were on hers. And as his arms pulled her closer, every reason not to kiss him back disappeared from her mind.

  After that, the two of them settled into an odd domesticity, keeping their relationship a secret from the rest of the house, although Archie was eager to marry her as soon as possible.

  ‘We’ve wasted so much time already,’ he entreated her, but Flora stood firm.

  ‘We must wait for at least a year until we announce any engagement,’ she told him. ‘I want no dissenters or gossip when we do.’

  ‘Goodness, Flora,’ – Archie took her into his arms; they were currently reduced to arranging trysts in the greenhouse, which Flora thought rather added to the excitement – ‘why do you care so much? I am lord of the manor and if I have my way, you will be my lady within a year. And I warn you that, whatever we do, there will be gossip.’

  ‘Then we will wait for the sake of Aurelia’s memory,’ she countered.

  Eventually, Flora persuaded Archie to let her use some of her legacy to fill the house and grounds with the help it needed. As staff were employed and builders tramped through the house to mend the roof, fix the damp, and wallpaper the interiors to brighten the
rooms, she finally understood what Beatrix had seen was missing in her life. Despite the chaos they currently lived in, Flora felt happier than she’d ever been, even though the true nature of their relationship was unknown to anyone else.

  ‘Darling, I have something I must confess to you. A surprise, if you like,’ Archie said over supper one evening. ‘I remembered recently that I had not yet registered Louise’s birth. The registrar was most helpful, and given the traumatic circumstances of Aurelia’s death, even let me off the fine that comes with leaving the registration past forty-two days. And . . .’ Archie continued, taking a deep breath, ‘while I was there, to keep things straightforward, I decided to register Teddy’s birth on the date Louise was born. Teddy is safe now, darling, and can never be taken away from us. To all intents and purposes, he is my son, and the twin of Louise.’

  ‘But . . .’ A stunned Flora looked into Archie’s dark eyes. ‘I now can no longer ever be his legal mother! And you have lied on an official document!’

  ‘Goodness, darling, there is nothing dishonest about love. I thought you would be thrilled! It saves all the dreadful paperwork one must complete, especially given Teddy’s provenance – not to mention the court appearances that one must go through to adopt a child. And now our babies can grow up believing they really are twins.’

  ‘What about Sarah? And the doctor?’ Flora wondered if Archie had taken leave of his senses. ‘They both know the truth.’

  ‘I have already told Sarah, and asked her opinion on what I’d decided to do. She agreed it was the easiest way to make Teddy safe. As for the doctor who attended the birth, he has since moved on to another practice . . . in Wales.’

  ‘Good God, Archie, I do wish you had asked my opinion on such a huge decision.’