Stranger at the Dower House (Strangers Book 1)

by Mary Kingswood

  “Perhaps you should start by giving me a score of reasons why I should,” she said, not at all sure whether he was serious or not. Was he drunk? He seemed sober enough.

  “There is only one reason,” he said. “It is a very selfish one, but I have discovered that you are quite indispensable to my happiness. It is unaccountable, but somehow I seem to have fallen in love with you. I do not know how it happened, but there it is.”

  Her breath caught. This was a declaration indeed! “But… what about your wife?” The words were difficult to say. In love with her! Heavens above, how had they come to this?

  “Ah, yes, Catherine… my perfect wife, who was very far from perfect. You were quite right about that, as about so many things, my dear Louisa. But she is dead and I am alive, and must look to the future now, and I hope… I very much hope that will be with you. What do you say? Can you set your past behind you too, and go forward side by side with me?”

  How to answer him? She had never seriously considered marrying him. “Marriage is… so final,” she said eventually. “I spent twelve long, very dull years with Ned and another year counting the days until I could escape. I am not sure I want to hurtle into another marriage so soon, especially when—” She chuckled. “You will forgive me for being practical, I trust, but you are still young and healthy, so—”

  He gave a bark of laughter. “I am flattered that you consider a man of forty as young.”

  “Young enough to live for another forty years,” she said. “Despite all your charms — your many charms — I am not at all convinced that I want another husband. I came here in search of a lover, and that idea still appeals to me more than marriage.”

  “Do you wish to elaborate on my many charms?” he said interestedly. “You may take as long as you wish. I am a very good listener, when the subject is such a pleasing one.”

  She laughed but said, “Conceited man! Some other time, perhaps.”

  “Ah, well,” he said, with an exaggerated sigh. “Louisa, are you truly so set against marriage?”

  She let out a long breath. “I felt as if I were being suffocated, as if the walls were closing in and there was no air. You cannot understand it, I daresay, because it is different for a man, but I have been subservient to a man for virtually my entire life. First my father, and then Ned, and do not mistake me, neither of them ever showed me anything but kindness and generosity. The settlement my father agreed for me was already generous, but Ned’s will doubled my jointure. They both let me spend as much as I wished, to fill my days with whatever occupation seemed good to me. Ned let me travel, even when he no longer cared to, and I took one or two trips, but…” She sighed again. “He looked so sad when I went away and was so happy to see me again that I never liked to do it, and that is how it works, you see. If our circumstances had been reversed, he would never have thought twice about going away if he wished to, whereas I felt obliged to stay. It was my duty to please him, and I did it whole-heartedly, but still it was his wishes that prevailed, and not mine.”

  “Perhaps that was because he was of an age with your father,” Laurence said gently. “If you were married to a man nearer to your own age, a marriage of equals—”

  “There is no such thing!” she cried. “A woman is always less than a man in the eyes of the world, and nothing at all in the eyes of the law and the church. A wife does not exist in her own stead, she is the property of her husband, her only purpose to provide him with children, if she can, and to ensure his comfort. To be subsumed like that… it is horrible, Laurence.”

  Laurence nodded, frowning. “You know, of course, that Ned would never have wanted you to do only what you thought he wanted? He would have wanted you to be happy. Of course he would have been sad when you went away, for who would not be? But he would never have wanted you to feel tied like that — suffocated! No one who cared anything for you would wish it, and nor would I. You said once that we could be friends, or we could be lovers, or we could be husband and wife, and whichever one we settled on, we both had to want the same thing… do you remember that?” She nodded mutely. “Well, I should like us to be all of those.”

  “All at once?” she said, chuckling. “That sounds… complicated.”

  “Very well, then we shall be friends on Mondays and Thursdays, lovers on Tuesdays and Fridays, and respectably married on Wednesdays and Saturdays. How does that sound?”

  “How absurd you are! What about Sundays?”

  “We shall be excessively pious, and pretend we have never met before.” When she laughed and shook her head at him, he went on earnestly, “Do you not see, we can make of marriage whatever we wish… mould it to our own needs. You are not the only one who spent years tiptoeing around another person, Louisa, bending your wishes to those of someone else. I no more want another marriage like that than you do. But you are so different from Catherine, and I, I trust, am not like your Ned, so together we can forge something new, something better suited to our temperaments. I could not bear you to feel tied to me, forever walking in my shadow like some kind of timid mouse… like your friend Esther. I want us to stand side by side in the sunshine, to walk hand in hand into the future, facing whatever life throws at us, but together. Would that be so terrible?”

  “No, not terrible,” she said softly. Oh, if only it could be so! A marriage of equals… was it possible? Or would they start in great optimism, only to see all their hopes trickle into dust? “But marriage! Even with affection, it is a prison, Laurence. I had a much better marriage than many women, but I still wished to be free. Now I am, and I cannot willingly surrender that freedom. That is why I considered taking a lover, for at least I could forge my own path.”

  He nodded, his face serious. Dear Laurence! So earnest, and yet he was so much fun to be with. No, marriage to him would not be terrible, but it would still be a cage, the bars solid and immovable.

  He leaned back against the wall of the arbour, folding his arms and stretching out his legs again. “Let us talk, then, about lovers. We have discussed it before, and agreed that it would be too inconvenient, what with all that creeping about at night and climbing up drainpipes to reach your bedchamber, and so forth. I cannot help but feel, despite my youthfulness, that my days of climbing drainpipes are over. Yet still the idea has taken root in my mind, and will not quite relinquish its hold. When we kiss…” He stopped with another sigh, then went on more firmly, “When we kiss, the desire to be your lover is… almost overwhelming. But how could it be managed without drainpipes? To walk into your house in broad daylight and whisk you up to your bedroom, however delightful it would be, would inevitably give rise to just the sort of gossip we would both abhor.”

  “Not merely gossip,” she said soberly. “The scandal would damage both our reputations, and adversely affect your family. Any such affair would have to be conducted in the utmost secrecy.”

  “Exactly so!” he cried. “And I believe I have hit upon the very manner of it — utterly secret, and yet giving rise to no comment at all.”

  “If that is so, I should be interested to hear of it,” she said, although cautiously, for the conversation was a strange one. He had begun by talking of marriage, but now that seemed to have been set aside.

  “There are two sets of rooms at the Grove that are connected by a balcony,” he said. “Do you see how fortuitous this is? You could have one suite of rooms, and I the other, and when we wish to conduct our secret liaison, I need only climb out of my window onto the balcony, walk along it and climb in through your window. I believe my limbs to be capable of such a feat. We should need to arrange some sort of signal, of course, with lamps or a certain colour of cloth hung in the window, the particular details do not matter. But just think how convenient! And no one any the wiser.”

  She looked askance at him, not at all sure if he was merely teasing her.

  “Of course, there is a small catch,” he said ruefully. “No scheme is ever quite perfect, and this one has a tiny flaw as well. Naturally you cannot
live at the Grove openly unless we are married, but it is a small technicality and we need not regard it. You could remove your wedding ring whenever we conduct our liaison.”

  She burst out laughing. “Oh Laurence, what an idiotic man you are!”

  “Is that one of my many charms?” he said hopefully.

  “Surprisingly, I believe it is,” she said. “Are you in earnest? You want us to marry, but pretend we are merely lovers?”

  “I am very much in earnest about wanting to marry you,” he said, suddenly serious. “I want to be your lover, but it cannot be done without marriage, it seems to me. My conscience would not permit it. Once that became clear to me, everything fell into place and I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I will not press you, however. For me, there have been nine years alone and more than enough time to make me ready for a new venture. For you it is different, I understand that. Take as long as you need, my precious love, and if ever you find you want me as much as I want you, then just say the word.”

  My precious love… such an endearment made her want to cry. In twelve years of marriage, Ned had never once spoken of love. He had called her my dear and he had felt some affection for her, as she had for him, but this… this was different.

  “I want…” she began.

  “Yes?” he said, leaning forward eagerly.

  “I want you to kiss me.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Happy to oblige.”

  Then she was in his arms, the warmth of his lips on hers, and abruptly all the jagged disconnected worries in her mind slid away into clear certainty. This was what she wanted, this was where she belonged.

  When eventually they parted, she rested her head on his shoulder, his arm still wrapped tightly around her waist. “When we kiss, I feel as if everything in the world is right. All my uncertainties fade away, and I truly want this… to make you happy—”

  “No!” he said sharply, jerking away from her. “You are too good, too unselfish, my dearest Louisa, but you must think for once about what would make you happy. I want you as my wife, but not as some kind of sacrifice, however willing. There must be more than friendship and affection, there has to be love and passion and longing and great need and desperate yearning. You must not marry me because you feel that you could live with me, but because you find that you cannot live without me. When you feel that life would be unendurable without me, that will be the time for us to marry.”

  “But what if I never reach that point?”

  “Then we will stay as friends. We will always be friends,” he said, but his voice wavered as he spoke. “Louisa, it seems that I have taken you by surprise. Will you think about all that I have said?”

  She nodded, seeing the bleakness in his eyes. Dearest Laurence! So generous, so amazingly generous, and she wanted more than anything in the world to see him happy, but he was right — she had to be true to her own nature and find the life that would make her happy, too. If only she knew what that was.

  ~~~~~

  “Laurence, you go nowhere for years, and now suddenly you are dashing off here there and everywhere,” Viola said, a sharp edge to her voice. “Bath and Hereford and then Gloucester… Ursula was quite shocked when you just appeared without warning. And now you are off to Chester, and I am sure there is not the least need for it, none at all. Whatever has got into you?”

  They both knew exactly what had got into him, but neither of them mentioned Louisa, perhaps because neither of them could be rational about her. Laurence was both exhilarated that she had not refused him outright and yet disappointed that she had not fallen into his arms. Somehow, now that he had settled in his own mind that they should marry, he had supposed that her views had changed just as much and he was rather downcast to find her just as implacable as ever on the subject.

  As for Viola, he saw the strained expression on her face whenever she met Louisa, or even when her name was mentioned. Perhaps Ursula had written to reveal something of her conversation with Laurence. There were no secrets between sisters.

  They were in Laurence’s bedroom, while John packed the box for the journey. Impulsively, Laurence said, “Vi, come through to Catherine’s room for a moment.”

  He led the way, unlocking Catherine’s davenport, and lifting out all her diaries with their so exquisite covers and their shocking interiors.

  “Oh… how beautiful!” Viola murmured, gently stroking the covers. “Such delicate stitchwork. Poor, dear Catherine… so accomplished.”

  “I read them,” Laurence said abruptly, for there was no gentle way to say it. “I read every word of them, from the day of her sixteenth birthday, until the day she died.”

  “Oh, Laurence!” Viola’s voice trembled. “You read her diaries?”

  “She is dead, Vi, and nothing I do can change that. At least now I know what she was like beneath that serene façade. I know that she never cared in the slightest for me or the children. I know that she was in love with—” Should he name him? Could he destroy her good opinion of Malcolm for ever? He could not do it. “She was in love with another man and—”

  “No…” Viola whispered.

  “—she conducted an adulterous liaison with him.”

  Viola moaned gently.

  “It pains me greatly to tell you this, but it is very necessary. For all these years I have been frozen, unable to move forwards, because I believed that Catherine was perfect and no other woman could possibly compare. But it was not so. She fooled all of us, for she was very far from perfect. And as for him—!”

  He stopped, his breathing ragged. It was just as well that Malcolm was far away for the urge to rain violence upon him was almost overwhelming. That his own brother should serve him such a trick! But he could not destroy all Viola’s illusions at once. It was enough to tell her of Catherine’s perfidy, without including Malcolm’s name. It was for the best that she should not know of their brother’s unforgivable betrayal.

  His sister buried her face in her hands, sobbing convulsively.

  “Oh Vi, I am so sorry that you should know this, but it is important that you appreciate how it is that I have changed. Knowing all this sets me free at last, free to look elsewhere for happiness. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. “You are going to marry her,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.

  “I have asked her, but she has not yet given me an answer.”

  Viola looked up with sudden hope. “Then she may refuse?”

  “She may, but that would grieve me very much. Vi, you have been telling me to marry again for years.”

  “Oh yes, but I never thought you would!” she cried. “I thought I was quite safe.”

  “Vi, you are quite safe. This is your home for as long as you want it, you know that. If I marry Louisa, nothing will change.”

  “Only a man could say so,” she said sadly. “If you marry her, everything will change, you mark my words.”

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Dear Vi! It may be that Louisa will not wish to entrust herself to the care of a man again, so you may yet be safe, but if it should happen… if I should be so fortunate as to secure her, will you be happy for me? And make her welcome here?”

  “I shall wish you joy with the greatest of pleasure, my dear brother,” she said with dignity. “However, it will be impossible for me to welcome her to this house, for the day she enters it will be the day I leave.”

  28: Reunion

  Captain Edgerton had no carriage of his own, so they took Laurence’s travelling coach, a great, ponderous contraption with a most luxurious interior, but nothing in its construction to cushion the hapless passengers from every rut and dip and unevenness in the road. Although the weather and the road were dry, Laurence felt as if he had been wallowing aboard a ship in rough seas. Even the stalwart captain looked a little pale when they disembarked at the Albion Hotel in Chester.

  Laurence had no expectation of a successful outcome to their journey, for who would
remember a young woman who left home more than thirty years ago? All they had was the address of her parents, but at once they struck lucky, for Mr and Mrs Labett were not only still alive, but still in residence at the same house, together with two sons and their families. Laurence, Captain Edgerton and Mr Chandry were shown into a tiny parlour where the elderly couple sat either side of a low fire, swathed in shawls despite the warmth of the day.

  “You’ll have to shout,” said the daughter-in-law who showed them in. “They’re both terribly deaf now.” Raising her voice, she said to the old people, “Here are some gentlemen from Shropshire to see you. They want to talk to you about Dorothea.”

  “Dorothea?” said the old lady, brightening. “Have you word of her? Is she found?”

  “We have news of her, Mrs Labett,” Captain Edgerton said loudly. “I am afraid it is not good news.”

  “Ah, then she’s dead,” said the daughter-in-law. “I was afraid of that.”

  Edgerton told them the story succinctly, while they listened in dignified silence.

  “Did she suffer?” Mr Labett said.

  “No,” Edgerton said at once, although he could not have known it. “No, she did not suffer at all. Did she tell you anything about her life? Did she write to you at all?”

  “Oh, yes,” Mrs Labett said. “She wrote to us every week, without fail.”

  “I suppose you do not remember what she said… whether she mentioned the man she was in love with?”

  “We practically have all her letters off by heart,” the old man said, smiling. “Such a lovely way she had with words. She was always the cleverest of the girls, working so hard as a child to learn her letters and numbers. She was the only one of them who went to school, of the girls, that is. The boys went, of course, but the other girls were content to stay at home with their mother and learn the domestic skills. Not Dorothea, though! She was determined to make something of her life, and she almost did. She was so close to achieving her ambition.”