Wedded for His Secret Child

by Helen Dickson

  ‘I know that,’ Eliza answered quietly.

  ‘I cannot believe she hated me so much that she would do that.’

  Eliza fixed him with a fierce gaze. ‘Can’t you? I can.’

  Laurence looked at her without speaking for a moment. There was more, he knew it, and he wasn’t going to like it. ‘Tell me.’

  Eliza sighed and shook her head wearily. ‘There—there’s something you don’t know, either of you,’ she said, looking from Laurence to Gerald. ‘Alice—she was with child—your child, Gerald. She told me in confidence before she decided to leave Laurence. People who are cornered do desperate things, which was why she decided walk away from her marriage.’

  The silence that fell on the room was so profound that if anyone had entered at that moment they would have heard their hearts beating. Gerald’s face became filled with honest puzzlement as his mind took its time to register what Eliza had said.

  ‘Alice was to bear my child?’ he said hoarsely. Eliza nodded. ‘But—but why did she keep it from me?’

  When Melissa caught sight of Gerald’s face as he gripped the back of the chair he stood behind, she saw only raw, naked grief—the kind that could rarely be feigned.

  ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ he repeated brokenly, angrily. ‘Why didn’t you tell me, Eliza, instead of keeping it to yourself? You had no right.’

  ‘I know. Alice would have told you—but for the accident. I could see how much you were suffering—which is why I didn’t tell you. I—I didn’t want to add to your grief. I’m sorry. I should have.’

  ‘Yes, you should.’ Gerald’s shoulders slumped. ‘I loved her. Dear Lord, I loved her so much. She was the only thing in my life I have ever loved. I begged her not to marry you,’ he said, his heated gaze fixed on Laurence, ‘but her mind was made up. It was your money that attracted her. You could give her everything she wanted—whereas I... My father left Eliza and me money and assets that would allow us to live in comfort for the rest of our lives—but it could not compare with your immense wealth.’

  Laurence’s mouth curled cruelly. ‘Be that as it may, have you forgotten that on the night she died she was running to you? Had I known that she was carrying your child I would have divorced her. You see, nothing could have induced me to continue to live with a woman who was to bear another man’s child.’

  Eliza stood up, her hands clenched, her face an angry red. ‘Please stop this. I ask you both to let this be the final chapter in Alice’s life—for all our sakes.’

  His shoulders sagging, as if all the life had drained out of him, Gerald lowered his head. ‘I wish she’d told me—and you, Eliza. I cannot believe you did not tell me.’ He said nothing more. It was a quiet sound that hung between them, without anger or emotion, but it held all the cruel anguish which he felt.

  Laurence felt his erstwhile friend’s pain along with anger at his first wife. Alice had left a harsh and bitter legacy they could never have imagined—or deserved. Strangely, he felt no satisfaction at what Gerald was suffering, a man he no longer considered to be his enemy, but could never be his friend again, only a bitter taste of self-loathing, despising himself with a virulence that was almost unbearable for having completely annihilated someone who believed he had every justification in the world to hate him.

  * * *

  Standing apart from the four other people in the room, on the outside looking in and feeling very much like an outsider, looking from one to the other, Melissa could feel the fresh anguish that was tearing both Laurence and Gerald apart. Suddenly the walls of the room seemed to close in on her, the atmosphere becoming more and more oppressive and claustrophobic. Feeling strangely isolated and different, as if she didn’t belong, she slipped out of the room. Without giving what she was doing much thought, she went to her room and scrambled into her riding habit. As she made her way to the stables, the weather was turning. The sky was dark with gathering rain clouds and the wind had risen to match her mood.

  She wondered how long it would be before they could all move on from this, from the damage Alice had done. There was nothing she could do, she knew that, so she must accept that and live for the moment. Not so long ago she had been happy to come to Winchcombe, but now nothing seemed clear to her any more. Not even Laurence. From the very first moment she had laid eyes on him he had done things to her mind and now all she could think of was him. But how could she be content now that she knew the heartache of real love?

  The wind was strong, the rain having started to fall heavily as she headed away from Winchcombe. She’d ridden a long way when she realised how foolish she had been to rush out into the wild elements. Unfortunately the light had almost gone so she didn’t see the overhead branch of a tree at the side of the lane. Her head slammed against it and a white flash burst in her brain as the reins were jerked from her hands and she was flung out of the slippery saddle. When a clap of thunder shook the earth followed by a flash of lightning that lit up the sky, her terrified horse bolted, leaving her lying on the wet grass.

  * * *

  It was the groom who had tried to prevent Melissa from riding off who came to the house to inform the master that his wife had left the house and ridden off alone. Until then Laurence hadn’t noticed Melissa’s absence. His visitors were about to depart, but Eliza insisted they wait until Melissa had returned to the house.

  Little fool, Laurence thought furiously as he strode to the stables. As if they didn’t have enough to worry about without her riding off when a storm was brewing. Within minutes he was riding in the direction the groom told him she had taken. The wind was strong and the rain lashing down from a leaden sky.

  * * *

  Momentarily stunned, her head tender where it had made contact with the branch, Melissa managed to stagger to her feet. Looking around for her horse, she strained her eyes in the gloom. Unable to locate Freckle and chiding herself for her recklessness in riding out in such dreadful weather, she knew there was nothing for it but to make her own way back to the house. Seized by a great weariness and hampered by the buffeting wind and rain and her skirts clinging to her legs, she made slow progress. Her boots squelched in the mud, but, undeterred, she stumbled blindly on.

  She was only aware of another presence when someone grasped her shoulder. She spun round, her hair a wild, wet tangle plastered to her face, beneath which her eyes peered out like an animal from its den, blood oozing slowly from the cut on her brow mingling with the rain. Afraid and trying to run from the threat, she stumbled and fell. She saw the shape of a man as if through a long tunnel, his cloak flying wide behind him until he resembled a great bird swooping down on her. When she felt strong hands grasp her and pull her to her feet, with no idea who her assailant might be she struggled wildly.

  ‘Please don’t touch me. Let me go.’ She continued to fight against the hands that held her, but she could not fight the force that had her in its grip. Her body went limp as she felt the fight go out of her. The rain clung to her eyelashes like tears.

  ‘Please let me go,’ she cried helplessly.

  ‘Little fool,’ Laurence growled, holding her close. ‘What the hell did you think you were doing, riding off like that and in this weather? Let’s get you back to the house.’

  Unable to think clearly, her head aching abominably, Melissa sagged against him. The fear that she might be in the clutches of some wild beast receded when she smelt the familiar spicy tang of his cologne. It was Laurence and she was relieved that he had found her.

  Laurence picked her up into his arms and held her against his chest, his face distraught as he looked at her lovely hair streaming across her face like wet seaweed. Somehow he managed to hoist her into the saddle and climb up behind her.

  Melissa sighed and closed her eyes as a strong, steel-sinewed arm went round her and held her close.

  * * *

  When they reached the house Melissa had recovered sufficiently to slide
from the saddle. Her legs felt wobbly, but she could stand without help. The rain continued to fall heavily, but she was so wet she was beyond caring.

  ‘Let me help you, Melissa,’ Laurence said, taking her arm. Her face was whiter than death and the wound on her forehead still oozed blood. ‘You’re hurt. We must get that wound looked at.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she mumbled, stepping away from him and shaking her arm free. ‘Leave me alone, Laurence. I’ll make my own way to the house.’

  ‘What were you thinking?’

  ‘Nothing. I simply wanted to get out of the house—away from all of you and your constant, infernal talk of Alice. Will we never be free of her?’

  Laurence didn’t argue—now wasn’t the time. ‘Eliza is still at the house. When she was told you had ridden off she wouldn’t leave until she knew you were safe. She’s distraught—and rightly so.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to have caused such concern, but as you see I am fine.’

  She turned away, relieved to see Freckle had made her own way back, although she was still all a-tremble following the thunder and lightning that had caused her to bolt. Melissa went to her and, with soothing words and tender strokes, the horse began to settle. Leaving her with a groom to rub her down, she made her way to the house, Laurence close on her heels.

  Eliza was waiting, anxious for her safety. ‘What on earth has happened to you?’ she asked, shocked by her bedraggled sight of her.

  ‘I found her in the lane some way away,’ Laurence told her, his brow furrowed with concern. ‘She’s taken a tumble from her horse—and is in quite a state, as you can see.’

  ‘Goodness, Melissa. To go riding off on a night like this was suicidal. We’d best get you to bed and send for the doctor to take a look at your head.’

  ‘It’s nothing, Eliza, and I don’t want the doctor. Please don’t fuss. There’s nothing wrong with me that a hot bath won’t cure.’

  ‘Well, then, come along. Let me help you to your room. We’ll have you cleaned up and in bed in no time.’ Eliza turned to Laurence. ‘Leave her to me, Laurence. Antony is still in the drawing room. You look as though you could do with a stiff brandy. Gerald rode off shortly after you. I’ll let you know when Melissa’s settled.’

  * * *

  Melissa opened her heavy-lidded eyes, closing them quickly when they were assaulted by bright sunshine filtering through the curtains. A dull ache throbbed in her head and she felt strangely depressed and melancholy. She tried to understand the bitter desolation that held her in its grip and in that instant she remembered riding off into the storm the night before. She also remembered being knocked off her horse along with the bitter irony of Laurence finding her and bringing her home. Eliza had stayed with her until she had been bathed and put to bed. She must have fallen asleep because she remembered nothing after that.

  Gingerly touching her head, she felt the small dressing Eliza had put there. Dragging herself up to a sitting position, eager to see her daughter, she rang the bell for Daisy.

  * * *

  The nursery was quiet when Laurence, looking for his wife, found her there. Violet was having her mid-morning nap. Her nursemaid was in the room next door, busying herself while her charge slept. Violet lay on her back, her arms flung out on either side, breathing softly. Melissa was leaning over her daughter. Tenderly she touched her cheek.

  Aware that someone had entered, she half turned. Seeing Laurence, she turned to look once more at their daughter. Closing the door, he moved further into the room, keeping his stare fixed firmly on his wife.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you up so soon. I went to your room last night, but you were sleeping. How are you feeling? You gave us all a fright. It was lucky I found you so quickly.’

  ‘Yes,’ she murmured with mild sarcasm, ‘wasn’t it.’

  ‘Don’t you ever go riding off into a thunderstorm again—with no protection and with no logical reason for doing so as far as I can see. It was both stupid and irresponsible of you.’

  ‘Yes, I know, although the weather was the last thing I was thinking about when I rode off. And please don’t raise your voice, Laurence,’ she said, stepping away from their daughter and beginning to fold away some small items of Violet’s clothing that had been brought up from the laundry. ‘We don’t want to wake Violet. Isn’t it today when you have to leave for Plymouth?’

  He nodded. ‘I wanted to make sure you were well enough first.’

  ‘I’m fine, Laurence, as you can see,’ she said, without pausing in her work. ‘Please don’t let me stop you.’

  A look of irritation flashed across his face. ‘Be sensible, Melissa. What you did was reckless and foolish. Anything could have happened to you. I was out of my mind with worry.’

  Pausing, she looked at him, her eyebrows raised in what looked like surprise. ‘Really? You must forgive me if I find that hard to believe. The last I saw of you, you were battling it out with our guests about Alice. I was knocked from my horse by a branch. I didn’t see it in the dark. And please don’t insult my intelligence by pretending to care for me when we both know the real reason you married me is over there sleeping.’

  One black brow flicked upwards in a measuring look. ‘What is this?’ He caught her wrist in a firm grip. ‘Will you stop what you’re doing and look at me? Do not close down your thoughts from me and shut me out. We will finish this—this conversation before I go anywhere.’

  ‘There is nothing to finish.’ Melissa pulled her wrist away.

  Turning his back on her, Laurence strode across the room as he marshalled his thoughts. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet and ruthlessly controlled. ‘There is. I dare not turn my back on you for fear you will do something outrageous. I haven’t known a moment’s peace since I married you.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Melissa said tightly, fighting against a wave of despair and taking refuge in attack. ‘That’s all I needed to hear after spending the weeks since our marriage treading around on eggshells lest I disturb or upset you in any way should I as much as mention your first wife.’

  ‘Now you are being ridiculous.’

  ‘Am I? I don’t think so. I did not ask to be put in this position. My actions, be they right or wrong, have been dictated by events set by you, not by any desire on my part to cause you concern. I have never set out to thwart you or undermine you in any way. If I had followed my own wishes when you arrived at High Meadows, I would have refused your offer of marriage and sent you on your way.’

  ‘I am sorry I inflicted my presence on you, Melissa, but under the circumstances—for Violet’s sake—we had no other choice.’

  ‘No? You’re a clever man, Laurence—or so everyone is always quick to point out to me—so I am sure you could have worked something out. Our relationship has been difficult from the start, but I have done what I thought was right in an impossible situation.’

  They faced each other, eyes locked, the air heavy with tension as the cruel words echoed around the room.

  Laurence knew that the time had come for him to leave, that his coach was waiting to take him to Plymouth—he also knew that when he did so the gulf between them would only open wider. If they tried to hide from it, to pretend it wasn’t there, it would always be there between them. It would seem he had misjudged her and the situation. She had married him and demanded nothing for herself, putting his needs and those of their daughter before her own. He had no right to take his frustration and the bitter failure of his first marriage out on her. She did not deserve it.

  ‘It has been a difficult time for you, I realise that. Perhaps I’ve been too impatient—I haven’t given you time to adjust to our marriage. Look, I don’t want to leave you just now. I can put it off until tomorrow.’

  Melissa could not explain the disappointment she felt and nor did she care to analyse why she should feel this way. ‘No—there is no need. Some time apart m
ight be good for us—time for us to work out what is most important and to put things into perspective. Go, Laurence. The sooner you leave the sooner you will be back.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right.’ His gaze feasted on her lovely face. It was devoid of colour. Wisps of her rich dark hair had escaped from some of its pins and rested in curls on her forehead and around her neck. Her eyes were dull, with neither happiness nor contentment in their depths. But the way she held herself told him she was determined to maintain her dignity despite the raw emotions tearing them both apart. The gentle fragrance of her perfume drifted through his senses and he was seized by a strong yearning to hold her against him, as he had on the nights when they had shared a bed. With nothing left to say, turning from her, he crossed the room and went out.

  * * *

  Staring at the closed door, a lump rose in Melissa’s throat and tears stung the backs of her eyes. Going to the window, she saw him climb into the waiting coach and watched until it had disappeared down the drive. Why had she been so disappointed a few moments ago when he had told her he could put off departing by a day? Was it because she had not wanted him to go to Plymouth at all? Or was it because she had wanted him to want to stay with her?

  Her heart was breaking. She had wanted to tell him how she felt so many times, to reveal her true feelings, to tell him she loved him desperately. Instead she had blamed him for forcing her into their marriage against her will, that had it been left to her she would have done things differently. It was far from the truth, of course, but the feelings she carried in her heart would remain there until he found it in his own to return her love.

  * * *

  Laurence had been gone a couple of hours when a letter was delivered. It was addressed to her. Recognising her father’s writing, she proceeded to open it as she slowly went to her room. His news was grim and wrung her heart. It was with a heavy heart that she informed Mrs Robins that she was leaving for High Meadow immediately, instructing Daisy to prepare her and Violet’s things.