Thurston House

by Danielle Steel

  “You haven’t fooled me for a minute, Jeremiah Thurston.” He was totally taken by surprise, and at first thought that she had to be teasing, but it was clear very quickly that she wasn’t. “All those trips up here this winter … I know what you were up to … you’re just like my father with his mistress in New Orleans.” Jeremiah almost gasped. He hadn’t looked at another woman since he married Camille, and had no desire to, as he attempted to tell her. “I don’t believe you, Jeremiah. What about the redhead in Calistoga?” Oh my God, Mary Ellen. His face went pale. Who had told her? And had someone told her about the baby too? But all that Camille observed was his obvious shock. She sat down with a look of frigid satisfaction. “I see by your expression that you know whom I refer to.”

  “Camille … please … there has been no one since we’ve been married, my darling. Absolutely not a soul. I wouldn’t do that to you. I have too much respect for you and our marriage.”

  “Then who is she?” He could have denied it, but he didn’t dare. She would never have believed him.

  “Someone I used to know.” It was honest and his face showed it.

  “Do you still see her?”

  Her question angered him and that showed too. He was not accustomed to being interrogated by an eighteen-year-old girl. “I do not, and I consider that a highly inappropriate question, and I consider this entire subject most unladylike for you to discuss, Camille.” He decided to hit a grand slam. “Your father would not approve of your behavior.” She blushed at this, knowing full well that he would be horrified if he thought she knew about, and, worse yet, discussed, his mistress.

  “I have a right to know.” Her face was beet red. She had gone too far and she knew it.

  “Not all men would agree with you, but as it so happens, I do. And let me assure you, before we close this very distasteful subject, that you have nothing to fear from me, Camille. I am faithful to you, have been since the day we got married, and intend to stay that way until my dying day. Does that satisfy your concern, Camille?” He spoke to her as a stern and disapproving father, and she was genuinely embarrassed. She only brought it up again once, in bed, later that evening.

  “She’s awfully pretty, Jeremiah.…”

  “Who is?” He was already half asleep.

  “That woman … the redhead in Calistoga …”

  He sat bolt upright in bed and glared at her.

  “I will not discuss that with you again.”

  “I’m sorry, Jeremiah.” Her voice was very small as he lay down again and closed his eyes and she put a tiny hand on his shoulder, and a little while later she mollified him with the passion that always enthralled him. It had been an ecstatic six months for him in their marriage bed, and he knew that Camille was happy in that regard too. The only disappointment for him was that she continued not to get pregnant. But Hannah shed fresh light on the subject for him in late August, as she stood in front of him at breakfast one day, before he left for the mines, while Camille was still asleep upstairs.

  “I have to talk to you, Jeremiah.” She sounded like an angry mother hen, and he looked up from his eggs and sausages in surprise.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Depends on how you look at it.” And then she glanced upstairs. “Is she up yet?”

  “No.” He shook his head and frowned. Had there been another altercation between the two women? He didn’t attempt to deny anymore that there was no love lost between them and he no longer tried to sing either one’s praises to the other. It was a hopeless venture. “What is it, Hannah?”

  She locked the kitchen door from the inside, something she had never done, approached Jeremiah, and dug a hand deep into her apron pocket, bringing out of it a wide gold band, rather like the rim of a small dresser knob, or something one would use to hang curtains except that it was smoother, and fine and exceptionally well made. “I found this, Jeremiah.”

  “What is it?” The mystery did not seem particularly interesting to him, and he was irritated to have to play games at this early hour of the morning.

  “Don’t you know what it is, Jeremiah?” She seemed surprised. She had never seen one quite this fancy, but she had seen simpler ones. But he shook his head now, both mystified and bored, and she sat down across the table from him. “It’s a ring.”

  “I can see that.”

  “You know … a ring …” And suddenly she was embarrassed to explain it to him, but she knew she had to. He’d been had. “Women use these contraptions so … so …” She got red in the face, and went on, for his sake, “… so they don’t get babies, Jeremiah.…” The full portent of her words took a moment to sink in, and then hit him with the impact of the entire building falling on his chest.

  His voice instantly shook as he grabbed at the offending object. Maybe the old woman was just making it all up, to cause trouble for Camille. It was unlike her, but anything was possible, given the two women’s hatred for each other, and Camille had tried to get her fired more than once. “Where did you get that?” He stood up as though he couldn’t bear to sit down any longer.

  “I found it in her bathroom.”

  “How do you know that’s what it is?”

  “I told you … I seen them before.…” And then, blushing again, “They say they work real good, Jeremiah. As long as you’re careful with it. It was wrapped up in a handkerchief, and I took it to wash it, and … it just fell out.…” She suddenly wondered if he was angry with her, but she knew better than that. “I’m sorry, Jeremiah, but I thought you had a right to know.”

  He glared at her, unable even to reassure her, he was so furious with Camille, and hurt and disappointed. “I don’t want you to say anything to her. Is that clear?” His voice was still harsh and she nodded, and then he strode to the door, unlocked it, and went outside to saddle Big Joe. And a moment later he took off for the mines, at a gallop, with the offending object still in his pocket.

  15

  What Jeremiah had learned from Hannah that morning troubled him all day, and he couldn’t concentrate on his work for a moment. The ring in his pocket burned through his heart like a torch, and finally in the middle of the afternoon, he left, and went to seek out the doctor who had delivered Mary Ellen’s baby in Calistoga. He showed him the ring and wanted him to explain it. And when the old man did, Jeremiah almost shuddered.

  “I gave her one myself. She didn’t tell you that?” The doctor looked surprised and Jeremiah looked shocked.

  “My wife?” Now it was the doctor’s turn to look shocked, he didn’t think that Jeremiah and Mary Ellen had gotten married, but you never knew with rich men like him. They did what they wanted and they moved quickly.

  “Didn’t know you’d married her.…” His voice trailed off and Jeremiah understood.

  “No …” And then he explained. “This was in my wife’s bathroom.”

  “Is she pregnant now?”

  “No.”

  Slowly the old country doctor understood. “I see … and you’ve been wanting her to get pregnant.” Jeremiah nodded honestly. “Well, she’s not likely to with that. They work pretty well, as well as anything.” He shrugged, and then looked pointedly at Jeremiah. “It makes sense in some cases though, like Mary Ellen. She has no choice but to use that. Might as well shoot herself in the head than try again and I told her as much.” Jeremiah nodded quietly, it wasn’t his problem anymore, but he didn’t tell the old man that. He was only interested in Camille. “Did your wife tell you she was using this?” The doctor was intrigued now.

  “No.”

  There was a long silence as the doctor soaked it all in and Jeremiah sifted through his own thoughts. “Not very nice of her, was it?” the doctor said, and Jeremiah shook his head and stood up.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  He shook hands with the old man and returned to St. Helena, where he found Camille sitting in her chemise and pantaloons, fanning herself in her bedroom. And without further ado, he dropped the gold ring in her lap. She just glan
ced at it at first, not sure what it was, and hoping it was another piece of jewelry, and suddenly when she saw what it was, she recoiled as though from a snake, and her face grew pale. She had been looking for it for days and was afraid that she’d lost it. It was one of those she had brought from Atlanta. Her cousin’s doctor had gotten it for her.

  “Where did you find that?”

  He stood looking down at her from his great height and for once there was no kindness in his eyes. “More to the point, where did you find it, Camille? And why did I know nothing about it?” It was obvious that he knew what it was and that it was hers. It would do her no good to deny it and she knew it.

  “I’m sorry … I …” Her eyes instantly overflowed and she turned away from him. And he wanted to stay angry at her but he couldn’t. He knelt beside her on the floor and forced her to look at him.

  “Why did you do that, Camille? I thought something was wrong that we didn’t … that we couldn’t …”

  She shook her head as fresh tears flowed, and hid her face in her hands.… “I didn’t want a baby yet … I don’t want to get fat and … and Lucy Anne says it hurts so much.…” The memory of Mary Ellen shot into his head and he forced it from his mind. “I can’t. I can’t.…” She was just a baby and he saw that now, but she was a woman too, and his wife, and he wasn’t getting any younger. He didn’t have five or ten years to wait, and he told her as much, in a gentle voice, and chided her for protecting herself from him in secret. “I couldn’t help it, Jeremiah … I was scared … and I knew you’d be angry.…”

  “I was. But I was hurt too. I always want you to be honest with me.”

  “I’ll try.” But she didn’t tell him that she would.

  “Now, do you have any more of these?” She began to shake her head, and then, looking mortified, she nodded. “Where?” She led him to her bathroom where she showed him a carefully concealed box. She had two more and he took them.

  “What are you going to do with them, Jeremiah?” She was in a panic, but he was unrelenting. He crushed all three rings in his huge hands, rendering them useless and then breaking them before dropping them into a wastebasket, as she began to sob. “You can’t do that!… You can’t … you can’t!” She began to flail at his chest and he held her tight as she cried, and then he gently took her to the bed, and laid her down, and left her there with her own thoughts, and he went outside for a walk in the garden. He still felt betrayed by what she had done, and they were both quiet that night when they went to their bedroom. Jeremiah was still hurt by the discovery of the treacherous ring, and Camille said not a word as he turned off the light, and she kept well to her side of the bed, which was unusual for her. More often than not, it was she who had approached him. The ring gave her the freedom to enjoy cavorting in bed with him, and now she lay in deathly fear, keeping her distance. But tonight it was Jeremiah who sought her out, reaching out to her as she trembled and attempted to push him away. “No … no … Jeremiah … don’t …” But for once, he was relentless, partly in anger for what she had done to him, and partly because he had a right to her. He forced her legs open and took her, and tonight she did not moan with pleasure, instead she cried softly, and when she had stopped, he took her again. And then again the next morning.

  16

  In September, Camille and Jeremiah returned to the city, as he had promised, and Camille almost instantly began her usual round of parties, but by the second week in September, Jeremiah found her sitting wanly in her dressing room one morning. She had her hairbrush in her hand and she looked green when he stopped in to say hello to her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No.…” But it was obvious that she was feeling poorly, and within another week or two, Jeremiah suspected the nature of her illness, as did Camille, and she was less than ecstatic when she finally told him that she thought she was probably expecting. He had thought as much himself, and he was thrilled by the news. He had been waiting with bated breath for her to say something. And that afternoon when he came home to Thurston House, he had a handsome leather jeweler’s box with him. But even that didn’t spark much interest in her eyes. She was feeling absolutely ghastly. And for the next two months, she was scarcely able to go to any parties, and she gave none at all. It was not at all the way she had planned to spend the “season” in San Francisco.

  And when Amelia arrived to visit her daughter in October, and Jeremiah told her the news, she was delighted for them, and mentioned that her daughter was expecting her third child the following spring, which Camille later told Jeremiah she thought was disgusting. The girl would have had three children in three years, and that was not what Camille intended to do. She silently mourned the sacred rings he had destroyed, and if that old witch of a woman in Napa hadn’t told him about them, she told him once, she wouldn’t have been in the predicament she was in now, which she so desperately hated.

  “Is that how you see it?” he asked her sadly. He was so happy about the baby and it saddened him to see how unhappy she was about it. He hoped that once she saw the baby, she would feel differently about it all. It was easy to understand that she was of two minds about it now, feeling as ill as she was.

  There was no denying that she was having a hard time of it, throwing up, and feeling ill, and she had fainted several times when he took her out. He absolutely refused to take her to the opera again, despite all her protests, and now suddenly none of her dresses fit, and she detested the adjustments she had to make. She envied the girls who claimed they didn’t show until the seventh or eighth month, but because of her diminutive stature, she was not one of those, and by Christmas, when he gave her a little birthday party, it was quite obvious that she was pregnant. He gave her a new sable cloak to hide her girth, and a beautiful little watch circled with diamonds. “And when it’s all over, little love, we’ll go to New York and buy you lots of pretty clothes. And afterwards, we’ll take you to Atlanta for a visit.” She could hardly wait for that time to come. Pregnancy was even worse than she had anticipated. She hated getting fat, hated feeling ill, detested everything about it, and Jeremiah most of all for getting her into that condition. And in February, she was angrier still when he announced to her that he was moving her to Napa for the rest of her confinement.

  “But it’s not until May!” Her eyes filled with tears and her voice rose in protest. “And I want to have the baby in San Francisco.” Gently, he shook his head. That wasn’t what he had planned for her. He wanted her leading a quiet life in the country, not trying to race from luncheons to tea parties to balls, exhausting herself and complaining of how ill she felt, and fainting in crowds. He wanted her leading a quiet life in the country, and he assured her that her parents would agree with him. That was a time in her life when it was important for her to rest, and breathe fresh air, and do very little. But she was convinced that he was doing it to torment her, and more than once she screamed at him in frustration and slammed the door to her sitting room, shouting at him, “I hate you!” She had been touchy and rebellious since the very day she got pregnant, and he wondered if things would have been different between them if he had allowed her to continue using her rings. But this was what he wanted, and he wasn’t young enough to allow her more time. He felt certain that he had done the right thing, but he was far from popular with his wife when he moved her to St. Helena in the midst of the winter rains. The hills were already turning green and the grass was sharp and spiky and bright on the rolling hills, but it was depressing for her to sit through the rainy afternoons with no one to speak to except Hannah, whom she still hated.

  In an effort to amuse her as much as he could, he came home earlier from the mines, told her of his work there, of the men, brought her little trinkets to amuse her. But she was uncomfortable and unhappy and bored, and it was small consolation to her that she was healthy, according to the doctor in Napa. Jeremiah had chosen him to assist Camille with the delivery because he had been highly recommended, but Camille insisted that he was rough with her and rude
and she smelled liquor on his breath, and by the eighth month of her pregnancy, she was in tears most of the time, and insisted that she wanted to go home to Atlanta.

  “As soon as the baby is born, little love. I promise. You’ll spend the summer resting here, and in September we’ll go to New York and Atlanta.”

  “September!” She hurled the word at him like a boulder, ready to explode in his lap. “You never told me I’d have to stay here all summer!” She was sobbing again, and she looked as though she wanted to kill him.

  “But we spent last summer here, Camille. The weather is awful in San Francisco in the summer, and you’ll be tired after the baby’s born.”

  “I will not! I’ll have been stuck here all winter. And I hate it.” She threw a vase to the floor and left the room as its splinters flew across the floor. Hannah came in to help him pick it up.