‘You danced.’
‘With Nan and Mr Brougham, as well as Mr Easter. It was a country dance. Everybody was dancing.’
‘If you had simply danced with your brother or your cousins I would not have been so angry. But you did not. You danced with a young man whom I neither like nor approve of, and what is more and much much worse, you behaved yourself in such a scandalous manner that your behaviour was certain to be seen and commented upon. You walked alone with this young man, did you not?’
She had to admit it, wondering who had seen her and carried tales.
‘You were hanging onto his arm?’
‘Yes, Papa, I held onto his arm, I believe. Most people were promenading arm in arm that evening.’
‘With no bonnet on your head?’
‘It was blown off. I put it on again straight away.’
‘And where was Bessie Thistlethwaite? She is your companion. She should have been with you to chaperone you.’
‘Nan said we could go and see the fireworks, Papa. There were six of us, me and Will and Euphemia and Jimmy and Matty, besides Mr Easter.’ And she tried to smile at him because that expressionless face was frightening her more and more.
It had no effect on him whatever. ‘You were seen,’ he said, ‘and no mention was made of any other companion except for Henry Easter. You were seen with no bonnet on your head and no chaperone, running in and out of the bushes like a hoyden.’
There was nothing she could say. For the first time in her life she dropped her gaze before her father’s anger.
He was mollified, but only slightly, his shoulders dropping just perceptibly. ‘You have shamed me, Caroline,’ he said. ‘Can you imagine how it felt to have two business acquaintances seek me out in the Strand this morning to report such scandalous things to me about my own daughter? How could you do such a thing?’
To see emotion on his face at last upset her. ‘I did not mean to shame you, Papa,’ she said. ‘Truly.’
‘If you did not mean to shame me, you should not have spent time in the company of that young gentleman. You know my feelings on the matter.’
She had to support her darling, no matter what her father might be feeling. ‘He is a proper gentleman, Papa,’ she said. ‘Every inch an Easter. I can’t see why you don’t approve of him. You would if you knew him.’
‘There are Easters and Easters,’ he said sternly. ‘The Ippark Easters are no fit company for anybody, and certainly not for you. You are not to know them.’
‘This is all because of that stupid quarrel, years and years ago,’ she blurted out. ‘I can’t see why we …’
‘It is an old quarrel certainly,’ he said, ‘but not stupid. What happened was too cruel to be stupid. It was deliberate and heartless and has put all members of the Ippark branch of the family quite beyond the pale. And since you make an issue of it, you might as well know what happened.’ And he walked across the room and sat himself in the other corner chair beside the window, facing her.
‘When your grandmother married your grandfather,’ he said, ‘his family cast him out without a penny, because she’d been a servant and they were full of false pride. That was bad enough, in all conscience, but what happened later was worse. Your grandfather died when Aunt Annie and Uncle Billy and I were little more than babies, and he left your Nan very nearly penniless. Think of it. Naturally she went to Ippark for help, as anyone would in her position. And they turned her from the door. They turned her from the door, Caroline, callous, heartless, uncaring creatures that they were. They turned her from the door without a penny.’
‘It was all a very long time ago,’ Caroline tried. ‘Things change, Papa. People change.’
‘Not the Easters of Ippark,’ her father said. ‘They are leopards of the cruellest kind who never change their spots. Your Mr Henry Easter is the son of Sir Osmond Easter, my dear, and Sir Osmond Easter was every bit as bad as his forebears. When he married for the second time, he threw his two poor old cousins out into the world with no means of support except a small annuity. What would have happened to them if Mama had not taken pity on them I do not know. And even before that he had shown us what manner of man he was. There was never any doubt about his jealousy and spite. He did everything in his power to prevent my mother from making a success of Easter’s. I was young at the time and I cannot remember the details, but I remember her distress and her anger, and I do not forgive him for it.’
‘But he didn’t prevail, Papa. It was a success, wasn’t it?’
He was aggravated that she should argue against him. ‘The success of the firm is immaterial to your present situation,’ he said sternly. ‘You have gone beyond the bounds of propriety, and you know it. Now I must take action.’
This time she faced him boldly, saying nothing.
‘You are not to attend any further functions this season,’ he said. ‘You will not go to the final ball. You will not ride in the Park. In short, you are not to see Henry Easter or communicate with him ever again.’
‘Papa!’ she cried, shocked by his harshness. ‘How can you be so cruel?’
‘It is for your own good,’ he said. ‘The association would only make you unhappy. Don’t you see that?’
‘No,’ she said, ‘I do not. I love him, Papa.’ There it was. The words were said, openly and publicly. She was committed. Yesterday she hadn’t been sure of her feelings, strong though they were. She’d been playing at love, thrilled to be kissed and told how much he loved her, but playing nevertheless. Now her certainty was strong as iron.
‘You are too young to know what love means,’ he told her.
Apprehension and shock and this new terrible, wonderful certainty gathered and became rage. ‘I do too,’ she roared at him. ‘I love him with all my heart. I shall always love him. Always. And nothing you say will ever change that. You can’t forbid me to see him. It’s barbarous!’
He stood up and walked away from her anger. ‘I have forbidden it,’ he said, horribly calm again. ‘You are not to see him and that is all there is to be said. Annie and James are visiting Mama in a day or two. You will return to Bury with them and remain there until you can see sense.’
‘But Papa …’
‘I do not propose to argue with you, Caroline. You will do as I say.’
‘Very well,’ she said, cold with anger and control. ‘I will. But I shall go on loving Henry just the same. You can’t stop that. I shall love him for ever and ever and when I come of age I shall marry him and I don’t care what you say. And I shall hate you, Papa. I shall hate you for ever.’
He rang the bell. ‘You will see sense in time,’ he said wearily. Her words had stung him cruelly, but she was young yet. He had to remember how young she was. ‘Tom will take you back to Bedford Square.’
But she’d already left the room. He could hear her feet, thudding down the stairs. It had to be done, he told himself. It had to be done. It was for her own good. She will thank me for it in the end.
* * *
Caroline kept her feelings under control until she was back in Bedford Square and had climbed the stairs to her own bedroom and closed the door behind her. Then she flung herself down across the bed and wept as if her heart was breaking.
Euphemia had been waiting for her return in a state of growing anxiety, watching at the bedroom window, as the square filled with departing carriages and street traders. Now she was terribly upset. ‘What is it, my dearest,’ she said, sitting beside her cousin and stroking the wild hair out of her eyes.
‘He says I ain’t to see Henry ever again,’ Caroline wailed. ‘Oh, Pheemy, I’m so unhappy. How could he be so cruel? I shall die if I never see my darling again.’
‘He can’t mean it,’ Euphemia said, when Caroline had sobbed out the entire miserable story. Not Mr Easter. He was stern and distant, certainly, but not unkind. ‘Did you tell him of Henry’s proposal?’
‘No,’ Caroline sobbed. ‘How could I? Oh, he’s so cruel, Pheemy. How could he be so cruel?’
‘He spoke in wrath, my dearest. I’m sure of it. He will think better of it tomorrow, you’ll see.’
‘No,’ Caroline wailed. ‘He meant it, Pheemy. Every word of it. Oh, what shall I do? He says I’m to go back to Rattlesden with Aunt Annie and be buried in the country. I shall die if I never see my darling again. I love him, Pheemy.’
‘Yes,’ Euphemia said, ‘I know.’ And as her cousin continued to weep. ‘Oh pray don’t cry, my dearest. I would do anything to help you.’
‘You couldn’t make him change his mind, could you?’ Caroline sobbed.
And it, was true. Neither of them could think how to do that. And Nan and Will had gone to the Strand and wouldn’t be back until dinner time. Euphemia sped off to find Bessie.
‘This is what comes a’ disobeying yer father,’ the old lady said, but she came toiling up the stairs at once, of course, to wash her Caroline’s tears and brush her hair and croon commiserations.
‘Perhaps you’d better put a brave face on it,’ she cajoled, as she emptied the dirty water into the pail, ‘and do as he says. Jest fer a month or two, eh? Till it all dies down. After all, he is yer Pa when all’s said and done. He’s got a right ter know what you’re a-doin’ of.’
That made Caroline fierce with anger. ‘No,’ she said, ‘I won’t. It’s so unfair, Bessie. Henry is a dear good man, and a poet. Papa should be proud of him like I am. Oh no, no, no, I most certainly will not do as he says.’
‘Then what will you do?’ Euphemia asked.
‘Oh, I don’t know!’ Caroline wept, throwing herself across the bed again.
‘I know you think your Mr Easter’s a fine young man,’ Bessie said, ‘but is he worth it?’
‘Yes,’ Caroline said, looking up fiercely. ‘He is. And don’t you ever say another word against him. You were the one who told Papa I was dancing with him in the first place, weren’t you?’
‘Well, if that’s how it is,’ Bessie said crossly, and hobbled out of the room.
‘Oh, my poor Henry,’ Caroline said. ‘He’ll be riding in the Park by now. He won’t know what’s happened to us.’
‘Your father may have written to tell him,’ Euphemia said regretfully.
‘You think so, Pheemy?’
‘I fear he might have done.’
‘Oh, I do hope Nan knows what to do.’
‘Or Will,’ Euphemia said. ‘He’ll plead for you, Carrie. I know he will.’
But when he got home that night, Will’s reaction to the crisis was not at all what either of them expected. Instead of rushing to his sister’s defence, he was cool and critical. In fact he almost seemed to be blaming her for what had happened.
‘It was jolly silly to go off on your own, if you ask me,’ he said. ‘You might have known someone would see you. Why didn’t you stay with Jimmy and Matty?’
‘I walked off on your account,’ Caroline said, angrily, and was just going to tell him exactly why when Euphemia intervened.
‘Could you speak to your father, Will?’ she hoped. ‘I’m sure he would listen to you.’
‘What a time you’ve chosen,’ Will said to Caroline. ‘Just when I wanted to leave the firm.’
‘That has nothing to do with it,’ she retorted.
‘On the contrary,’ he said. ‘It has everything to do with it.’ How could he possibly broach the subject with his father now that she’d put him in such a bad humour. And just when he was going to visit Mr Dickens too.
‘But you will speak to Mr Easter,’ Euphemia said. ‘Won’t you?’
‘I will if the right moment presents itself,’ he promised grudgingly.
‘If you have to wait for the right moment then I’d rather you didn’t bother,’ Caroline said, glaring at him. ‘I thought you loved me more than that, indeed I did.’
‘I do love you Carrie,’ Will tried to explain. ‘It’s just rather awkward at the moment, that’s all.’ But even though he felt ashamed of himself to be thinking of his job rather than her needs, he couldn’t offer to help her. There was too much at stake. And besides, she had brought this all on herself. She should have known better.
Strong emotions bristled in the air between them, her misery and fury and incomprehension, his disappointment and self-disgust and a vague generalized anger that was all the more potent because he didn’t know where to direct it.
‘Here’s your grandmother come home,’ Euphemia said, recognizing the approaching sound of Nan’s carriage with great relief. ‘She’ll know what to do.’
But Nan had already done all she could, entirely without success.
John had come into her office not long after she arrived in the Strand that morning to tell her of Caroline’s misbehaviour and his decision.
‘She will return to Rattlesden with Annie and James,’ he said, ‘and stay there until the spring, out of harm’s way.’
‘Has James agreed to it?’
‘I see no reason why he shouldn’t. I wrote to him at once, of course.’
‘’Tis a harsh punishment, for such a little folly.’
‘Of necessity,’ he said sternly. ‘If I don’t take action now, she might end up marrying the fellow, and we don’t want that.’
‘I could think of worse partners,’ Nan said lightly. ‘He’s a nice enough young man and uncommon fond of your daughter. Fancies himself a poet, which he en’t, but you can’t hold youthful conceit against him.’
The gentle joke fell flat. ‘He’s an Ippark Easter,’ John said.
‘And rather a pleasant one.’
His face hardened. ‘You may forgive them if you please, Mama, although I cannot understand how you bring yourself to do it, but I have more pride. The young man is beyond the pale. Caroline has misbehaved and now she must take the consequences. We will not speak of it again if you please. Here are the invoices from the Darlington branch line.’
‘You will have to do as he says, I’m afraid,’ Nan told Caroline, when she’d taken off her bonnet and gone up to see how the child was.
‘Well I won’t,’ Caroline said, stubbornly. ‘I’ll sit here in this bedroom and starve myself to death rather than do as he says. It’s cruel and unfair.’
‘She don’t mean it,’ Bessie said. ‘Not with her appetite.’
But Caroline could be as adamant as her father, and stayed in her room for the next twenty-four hours, eating nothing, until Annie and James arrived, full of anxiety to know what had really happened. And to the relief of the household, Annie took charge of the situation, springing into action like Hope from Pandora’s box.
‘You are not to make any more fuss,’ she said to Caroline firmly, ‘or you will make matters worse and worry your father into an apoplexy and I can’t have that. One in the family is quite enough. Come downstairs and dine with Will and Nan and Euphemia as you always do, and then James and I will talk to your father and see what may be done. We dine with him this evening, so what better opportunity? Your behaviour is to be impeccable, though, otherwise I cannot plead for you. Is that understood?’
To have an ally at last, and such a staunch one, was enough to lift Caroline out of her misery and release her from her self-imposed fast. She came down to dinner, with a subdued appetite but quite good grace, and Annie and James went to Fitzroy Square.
They found their brother downcast and the dinner he served no more than passable.
‘You will take her back to Rattlesden, won’t you?’ he asked.
‘Of course,’ Annie assured him, ‘if that is what you want.’
‘I can’t understand her,’ he confessed, cutting his mutton chop with difficulty. ‘Of all the young men Matilda put her way, why must she choose this one? It’s downright perverse.’
Annie didn’t defend her niece’s choice. She had another matter for John to consider. ‘History is repeating itself, I fear,’ she said. ‘I remember what a scene there was when I first told Mama that I meant to marry James.’
He gave her a puzzled glance, and that pleased her because it showed that
he couldn’t remember what had happened, and if he couldn’t remember, that would give her story all the more impact.
‘A scene?’ he said.
‘Oh yes, indeed. A fearful scene. She didn’t approve at all. She said I could do better for myself than to marry a curate.’
‘Mama said that?’
‘She did.’
‘Of James?’
‘Yes, yes, indeed,’ James said easily. ‘When I went to ask her for Annie’s hand, she told me I was no catch for a daughter of the great Nan Easter. I remember it to this day.’ His eyes were twinkling with amusement at the memory. What an interview that had been!
‘But that is ridiculous,’ John said. ‘What possible reason could she have had for such an opinion?’
‘There is no reason in such matters,’ Annie told him gently. ‘Parents require perfection when it comes to marriage partners for their children. I know I had a low opinion of poor Mr Meredith at first, because he was always so slow to speak, but you see how happy he has made my Meg and what a good father he is to young Jonathan.’
Now John understood the import of this conversation, and although it annoyed him that she was questioning his decision, he was touched by the delicacy with which it was being done. ‘It ain’t the same thing, Sis,’ he said, giving her his lop-sided grin. ‘The man in question this time is the son of Sir Osmond Easter. I cannot tolerate an alliance between that man’s son and my daughter.’
‘Happily, sons do not always resemble their fathers,’ James pointed out. ‘’Tis a wise father that knows his own child.’
‘Or his own daughter, it would appear,’ John said, smiling at them both for the first time since their arrival in his house.
He will agree, Annie thought, acknowledging the smile, dear dear John, grieved though he is, he will agree with what I’m going to propose, because there is still love in him for all his gruff ways. And the thought made her feel protective towards him, as though he were her son and not her brother. Dear John. ‘However much our children may need punishment,’ she said, ‘and I’m the first to admit that they all need punishment at some time or another, I do not think we should deprive them of hope. Life is so utterly bleak without hope, is it not, John my dear?’
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