Forgotten Destiny

by Forgotten Destiny (retail) (epub)

  I hesitated. It was a tempting suggestion. But, for all that I dreaded facing Mr Paterson with my decision, I felt I owed it to him to speak of it to him face to face. Besides, if Thomas delivered a letter for me, goodness only knows how Mr Paterson would have reacted. Upset and angry as I felt certain he would be, he might well take out his feelings on Thomas, blaming him for driving me here and carrying the message home. I had heard him threaten on several occasions to have Thomas whipped, and I could not bear to think that he might be punished for my wrongdoing.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘I must tell him myself.’ Richard’s face was set. ‘Very well, but do it without delay. I cannot bear to think of you in that house with him, under his thumb. Your place is here, with me.’

  ‘I know it,’ I said. At that moment, if he had asked me to accompany him to the ends of the earth, I would have gone with him. ‘I shall speak to Mr Paterson this very evening.’

  ‘Then I shall come for you myself tomorrow,’ Richard said. ‘John Paterson may well not be willing to allow you the use of his carriage to run away from him, and you cannot walk the streets alone. I’ll be outside the house at ten, waiting for you. And for the love of God, be careful until then.’

  Daniel was stirring restlessly again, his mouth opening like a small bird’s whilst he struggled to reach my breast, hidden, of course, beneath my gown.

  ‘Daniel needs to be fed,’ I said. ‘He’s hungry and I think I should go now.’

  ‘I feel sure Lady Avonbridge would place a room at your disposal,’ Richard suggested.

  I shook my head. From tomorrow on I would have to accustom myself to feeding Daniel here, at Avonbridge Hall, but for the moment I felt I would be more comfortable attending to him in the familiar nursery.

  Richard kissed me again, lightly this time, but warmly, so warmly, then accompanied me to the door.

  ‘Till tomorrow then.’

  My heart skipped a beat, nervous excitement forming a lump in my throat.

  ‘Till tomorrow.’

  He walked with me to the carriage and he and Thomas acknowledged one another. Once again I found myself wondering how they knew one another on such apparently friendly terms. But I did not wonder for long. I had far too many other things on my mind.

  Richard handed me into the carriage and for just a moment I leaned on him, loving the strength of his arm beneath mine, wishing he could hold me close once more, tantalized to a state of burning desire by the knowledge that he could not. At least, not yet. After tomorrow there would be all the time in the world for the sensual moments and expressions of love I craved. For now I must try to be patient and enjoy the anticipation of our future together.

  Thomas flicked the reins; the horses moved off. I turned, raising my hand in farewell. He was standing there, watching me go, just as once I had watched him.

  I kept looking back long after his rugged, weatherbeaten features had become nothing but a blur, and his tall strong figure was just a dark shape against the light-coloured stone of the house.

  With all my heart I hoped we need never be parted again.

  * * *

  As we neared home, I was surprised to see a carriage that looked like Theo’s pulling away from outside Mr Paterson’s house. As it approached, I could see I was right, and I raised my hand in greeting. But Theo seemed not to notice me. He drove past us at a brisk pace, staring straight ahead, his face like thunder.

  I frowned, puzzled. Had Theo been to see me, and found me out? But if so, why had he cut me dead? Or had he been to see Mr Paterson? Well, he would almost certainly have found him out, too. At this time of day Mr Paterson was invariably at his office. I found it all very strange, but at the same time I was rather relieved that I had not met Theo face to face. Knowing him, he might well have asked some awkward questions as to where I had been, and put two and two together in a way Mr Paterson never would.

  Theo was going to be very angry with me, I knew, but I couldn’t help that. Sooner or later he would have to know that I intended leaving my husband for Richard Wells, but not until I was ready – and certainly not until I had told Mr Paterson. I should not like my husband to hear of it from anyone but me – and in private.

  I went into the house, Daniel in my arms, quiet for the moment. The carriage drive had rocked him back to sleep again but I knew that would not last long and I was just hurrying up the stairs to the nursery when the parlour opened and, to my surprise, Mr Paterson appeared.

  ‘Davina! Where have you been?’ he asked.

  This was not the moment for the truths I had to admit to. At any moment Daniel would waken again.

  ‘For a drive,’ I said, and, overtaken by cowardice, I added: ‘I thought the fresh air would do Daniel good.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Mr Paterson’s face was set. ‘You just missed that cousin of yours.’

  ‘Theo has been here?’ I said, pretending ignorance.

  ‘I sent for him,’ Mr Paterson said grimly. ‘I don’t like the things I have been hearing concerning his activities.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ I asked. Daniel was beginning to stir. I rocked him gently.

  ‘The bloody fool has been engaging in illicit trade,’ Mr Paterson said bad-temperedly. ‘He has been selling slaves to the Spanish plantations, and that’s against the law of the land these days. He’s courting ruin, Davina, and disgrace. I should never have made him that loan, and I never would if I hadn’t been persuaded by you. I’m calling it in. I can’t have my name linked with a lawbreaker such as him. My own reputation is too important in this town.’

  He was, I could see, beside himself with fury, and I was overcome with guilt. From the quarrel I had overheard between Great-Uncle Charles and Theo when I had first come to Bristol, I had known that Theo’s dealings were not as straightforward as they should have been, and perhaps I should never have interceded with Mr Paterson on his behalf. But whatever he had done, he was family, and I had wanted to help him.

  ‘Oh John, I’m sorry…’ I murmured.

  ‘And so you should be!’

  At that moment Daniel awakened with a hungry, lusty yell.

  ‘I must feed him,’ I said apologetically. And fled to the nursery, where, for a little while, I could be alone with my son – and my thoughts.

  Fifteen

  By the time I had fed Daniel and settled him, Mr Paterson had left to return to his office and I knew I would have to wait a while longer before I could tell him of my decision.

  One part of me was glad of the reprieve, another was prickling with impatience to say what had to be said and move on to the next part of my life. It seemed to me that I was standing on the very edge of a precipice, poised for flight, and I was both excited by, and afraid of, what lay ahead.

  This, I thought, as I gently rocked Daniel’s crib, must have been how my mother had felt when she had run away from her home and her parents to be with my father. Like her, I would face the disapproval of society, for it was a scandalous thing I was set upon, abandoning the husband whom I had vowed in the sight of God to love, honour and obey, in order to live in sin with a man I could never wed. Like her I would doubtless be ostracized by decent people. Like her I would have to bear the guilt of knowing I had hurt and shamed those who loved me. And yet, like her, I knew I must follow my heart, be true to myself and the man I loved. And besides that…

  ‘Did you know that you have a big sister?’ I whispered softly to Daniel. ‘She is called Alice and she is the most beautiful little girl in the whole world. She does not know yet that she has a mother, let alone a baby brother. It will be such a surprise for her! But she will grow to love you, as you will love her. And I shall be able to hold her as I hold you. My children, both together. Richard will take care of us all. And we shall be so happy!’

  Set against that rosy dream, nothing that I might have to face seemed of importance. My two children and my lover were the whole world to me. I sat beside Daniel’s crib looking down at his pink, innocent, sleeping face and gathering my courage for w
hat I had to do.

  I had been denied moments such as this with Alice, but I would make up for them. From tomorrow on, no one would ever come between me and my beloved children ever again.

  * * *

  Or so I thought. But I was wrong. How could I have been so foolish and naive? How could I have failed to foresee the result of my being honest with Mr Paterson regarding my intentions? If I had possessed a more devious mind, if I had planned my escape more cunningly, perhaps things would have been different. But somehow I doubt it. There are some things in this life that one can never change, and one of them is a man’s inalienable right to be master in his home, head of his household. I had forgotten, to my cost, that Mr Paterson owned me and Daniel just as he owned his house, his horses and his slaves. And any court in the land would back that ownership.

  But he reminded me soon enough, and in no uncertain terms.

  I broached the subject after we had eaten our evening meal, trembling at the prospect, yet determined.

  ‘I must talk to you, John.’

  He gave me a straight, severe look.

  ‘If it’s about that cousin of yours, you may as well save your breath, Davina. My mind is made up on the subject. I won’t have my name coupled with that of a man who deals illegally with the Spanish.’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not about Theo. It’s about us.’

  ‘Us?’ he repeated blankly. ‘What do you mean – us? And why are you in such a state, Davina? Good gracious, you are like a cat on hot bricks!’

  ‘John.’ I crossed to him, sitting on the footstool beside his chair and taking his hand in mine. ‘I want you to know that I am very grateful to you for marrying me, and grateful too for all your kindness to me. But…’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ He put my hand aside impatiently and reached for the brandy decanter. ‘Marrying you suited me. And why should I not be kind to you? You are my wife.’

  ‘John, listen to me, please!’ I begged. ‘I know I am about to hurt you dreadfully and I am so, so sorry for that. If there was any other way… but there is not. That is why you must let me say what I have to, and try to understand.’

  I had his attention now; though he concentrated on filling his glass with brandy, there was a heaviness about his features suddenly, a wariness, as if somehow he had always known that this moment would one day come, and he wanted to delay it as long as possible.

  ‘Go on,’ he said, and took a long draught of the brandy.

  ‘You know that when I married you I had no recollection of my past life,’ I said. ‘If I had, I would never have agreed to become your wife. I’m not sure, even, that you would have wanted me to. My memory has returned to a certain extent over the last few months, and I have to tell you that I was not the pure, innocent girl you thought me. Before the accident that took my memory and almost killed me, I had lived, unwed, with a man, and had a child by him.’

  ‘Oh, is that all!’ Mr Paterson snorted. ‘Well, I guessed that much.’

  ‘You did?’ I was astounded. ‘You never said…’

  ‘Why would I? What would it have achieved?’

  ‘You knew? And you didn’t mind?’

  ‘My dear girl, I’m not a fool! I knew something was being kept from me by your family, and it did not take me long to work out what it was. It’s the reason they were so anxious to marry you off, I dare say – to try to protect your reputation – though I’m certain my business connections had a good deal to do with it as far as Charles and Theo were concerned. He’s been disappointed on that score – I’ve made sure of that. I don’t like a man who uses a pretty woman like a chip in a game of poker – and tries to take me for an old fool to boot. But for the rest – I let it pass. Put it to the back of my mind. So long as no one else knows, where’s the harm been done? I’ve a pretty young wife and a son and heir, and I’m well satisfied. As far as I’m concerned, my dear, the past is the past, and that’s an end to it.’

  ‘But… it’s not,’ I said faintly.

  He frowned. ‘Not what?’

  ‘It’s not over and done with,’ I said desperately. ‘I have met again the man I loved, I have seen my child. It’s not over and done with at all!’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Mr Paterson set his brandy down so hard upon the occasional table beside him that I thought for a moment he had cracked the fine crystal. Strange that at such a time such an inconsequential thought could have occurred to me. ‘They are here – in Bristol?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘He is staying with Lady Avonbridge. I was not entirely honest with you about my trip out this morning. In truth, I went there to see him.’

  Mr Paterson swore. ‘God’s teeth, Davina!’ His face now was like thunder. ‘You took my carriage this morning and went to meet this man?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, frightened but defiant.

  He swore again. ‘And is this man by chance that bounder Richard Wells?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered.

  ‘Sweet Jesus – I’ll have him run out of town! He’s nothing but a troublemaker in any case. And Lady Avonbridge – to allow such a thing under her roof – I’d never have thought her capable of condoning anything so improper! Why, she’s been my guest here! I’ve entertained her with my good food and wine… I shall certainly not be doing so again!’

  He seemed to remember suddenly the last occasion on which Lady Avonbridge had been in his house.

  ‘She was here at the reception I gave before our marriage!’ He was almost spluttering with outrage. ‘And Richard Wells with her! You saw him then!’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘God’s teeth! I have been a bigger fool by far than I ever imagined! You and your lover, under my nose, in my own house! Well, it won’t happen again, madam, you can be sure of that. My hospitality will not be abused a second time. And you will have your wings clipped too. The carriage will no longer be at your disposal. You’ll stay here, inside these four walls, except when you are with me.’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  ‘What do you mean – no?’ He gripped my shoulder, shaking me. ‘You are my wife, Davina, and you will do as I say!’

  I pulled myself free. ‘No, John, you don’t understand. I won’t stay within these four walls, because I will not be here at all. Don’t you see, that’s what I’m trying to tell you! I have to go to Richard and my daughter. I don’t want to hurt you, truly I don’t, but I love him and I love my daughter, though I scarcely know her. She is mine, she needs me – and I need her. My place is with her, John – and with Richard.’

  The wind seemed to go out of his sails. He slumped, looking for a moment like a broken man. ‘You are saying you wish to leave me?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, quietly but firmly. ‘That is exactly what I am saying.’

  ‘Leave me!’ he repeated. He reached for the decanter, refilled his glass, downed it in one gulp.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ I whispered.

  And suddenly he was angry again, the fury filling him like a roaring gale.

  ‘You think I’d let you leave me?’ he demanded. ‘Make a fool of me for the whole of Bristol to see? You must be mad to even consider such a thing!’

  ‘Perhaps I am,’ I said. ‘But it’s what I must do, John. I must go to Richard and Alice. And you cannot stop me, whatever you might say. My mind is made up.’

  ‘I can stop you, my lady! You are my wife!’

  ‘You’d hold me here like a prisoner? You’d lock the doors and bar the windows? I don’t think so, John. See reason, please…’

  ‘Reason!’ he exploded. ‘You tell me to see reason, when you are proposing to walk out of a life of comfort to become a social outcast? To go to a troublemaker who will no doubt end his days murdered in the gutter or floating in the docks? Oh, he’s in line to come into a title one day, I know… Is that the attraction?’

  ‘No, of course not…’

  ‘But I doubt he’ll live that long, given the number of enemies he’s made for himself. And, to share his uncertain existence, you w
ould leave your home, your husband, your son…?’

  ‘Of course I would not leave Daniel!’ I cried. ‘He’s just a baby! He’ll come with me!’

  ‘Oh, you think so, do you?’ Mr Paterson thundered. ‘Well, there, madam, you are certainly mistaken. You are quite right that I can hardly keep you here by force. I cannot chain you to your bed, and if you choose to walk out, then, damnation take it – just go! But if you think I would allow you to take my son…’

  ‘But he needs me!’ I protested, very frightened suddenly. ‘He’s still at my breast!’

  ‘I’ll find a wet nurse for him. There’ll be no problem there. I mean it, Davina, if you take my son from this house, I’ll have the law on you before you can lift a finger. He will be returned to me with the law of the land on my side – and you… I’ll have you thrown into jail to ensure his safety!’

  I was shaking now from head to foot, not just my limbs, but every bit of me. My throat was dry, my lips numb. Perhaps I was reliving that other occasion when my child had been torn from my arms, though, if so, it was not a conscious thought. I was beyond that.

  ‘You wouldn’t…’ I managed to whisper.

  ‘Oh, I most certainly would!’ Mr Paterson replied, and I was in no doubt but that he meant what he said. ‘Go, Davina, if you must, but in the certain knowledge you will never see your son again!’

  * * *

  I knew, of course, in that moment, that he had won. That I had no choice – no choice at all. I could not abandon my baby son. Alice might need me, yes, but Daniel needed me more. Alice had never known me – she was well and happy enough with the life Richard had made for her. I would enrich her life, I hoped; I would be there for her when she fell and scraped her hands and knees, when she had an earache or a toothache; when she woke in the night from a bad dream, I would dry her tears and soothe her back to sleep. I would listen to her problems, little ones, now, easily solved; and in the years to come, as she grew, I would try to help her through the bigger ones which I could not solve, only comfort and advise. I would share her joys and her triumphs; I would watch her grow from child to woman with pride and love. But if I was not there, she would turn to those who already cared for her, and they would be there for her just as they always had been. Perhaps sometimes she would feel an ache of longing for the mother she had never known, but it would be just that, a little ache that would soon be forgotten, for what she had never had she could not truly miss.