Vows Made in Secret

by Louise Fuller

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THERE WAS A stunned silence in the room. Finally Laszlo shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. Did you just say you wanted to turn the castle into a museum?’ He gave his grandfather a long, searching look. ‘Why on earth would you want to do that?’

  Janos raised his hands placatingly. ‘To give something back, Laszlo.’

  Laszlo frowned. ‘You do give something back. Quite a lot of “something”, if that last meeting we had with the accountants is anything to go by.’

  Janos shook his head. ‘Yes. I give to charity. But this would be different.’

  His frown darkening, Laszlo began pacing the room. ‘Different?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘It would definitely be different. And disruptive—and intrusive. Have you really thought what it would be like to have a bunch of people wandering about in our home?’ Stopping in front of his grandfather, he stubbed the carpet with the toe of his shoe. ‘I just don’t understand why you would want to do this. And why now?’

  He shot Prudence a questioning glance.

  ‘Is this something to do with you? What did you say to him?’

  She stared at him, confused. ‘I—I don’t know—’ she stammered.

  Reaching out, Janos patted the chair beside him. ‘Laszlo! Laszlo! Sit down. Prudence and I were talking about her life in England and she mentioned the Soane’s Museum. That’s all.’

  Prudence watched as Laszlo allowed his grandfather to pull him into the chair.

  Janos frowned. ‘I’m so sorry.’ He glanced at Prudence apologetically. ‘I should have waited until tomorrow. We’re probably too tired and emotional after the party to be having this sort of conversation.’ His voice trembled. ‘It was thoughtless of me. I suppose I’ve just had this idea buzzing around my head for so long now that I forgot it would be new and shocking to you.’ He sighed. ‘And I just wanted to share it with you both.’

  Taking his grandfather’s hand, Laszlo squeezed it hard. He looked so young and troubled that Prudence turned away.

  ‘I’m sorry, Papi,’ she heard him say softly. ‘Of course I want to share your idea. I just wasn’t expecting it.’ He smiled weakly. ‘But I want to hear all about it. So—how will it all work?’

  Janos smiled back at him. ‘It’s not going to happen overnight. Someone from the Museums Committee is coming over in a couple of weeks, to take a look at what we’ve got here, and then I think there will be a lot of long but necessary meetings. Quite possibly the castle will be ready for visitors by the end of next year.’

  Laszlo nodded slowly. ‘And how will that work? I mean having visitors. You’re not expecting me to give guided tours or anything?’ He spoke lightly but his face had tightened.

  Laughing, Janos shook his head. ‘No, Laszlo. You won’t be giving tours around the castle. We won’t have much to do with the visitors at all.’

  Laszlo frowned. ‘Given that they’ll be wandering around our home, I think we will.’

  There was a long, strained pause and then Janos coughed. ‘The castle won’t be our home when it’s a museum, Laszlo. By the time it opens to the public we’ll have moved out.’

  ‘Moved out?’ Laszlo said slowly. ‘Moved out of the castle?’ He shook his head. ‘Papi... What are you talking about? This is your home. Our home. It’s been in our family for hundreds of years!’

  ‘I know—and I love this castle. It’s been an enormous privilege to own such an incredible building. But, my darling boy, it’s not a home any more.’ He put his hands on his grandson’s shoulders and said roughly, ‘This castle is a museum in everything but name. And we both need to accept that and move on.’

  For a moment the room hummed with a silence that was broken only by the spitting of the fire, and then finally Laszlo nodded.

  ‘I know,’ he said quietly. ‘I suppose it’s just that it’s taken me a long time to think of it as home and now—’ He cleared his throat. ‘But you’re right. It’s ridiculous, the two of us rattling around here like this.’ He managed a small smile. ‘Have you told Rosa yet?’

  Shaking his head, Janos frowned. ‘Not yet. I wanted to speak to you first.’ He screwed up his face. ‘I must admit I’m a little worried about telling her.’

  Laszlo pursed his lips. ‘She’ll be fine once she gets used to the idea.’ He smiled. ‘And as long as she gets to fuss around you she’ll be happy wherever she lives.’ Looking up at his grandfather, he hesitated. ‘Which sort of brings me to my next question... Where exactly are you planning on us living?’

  Janos let out a breath. ‘That would rather depend on Prudence.’

  Prudence felt her fingers curl painfully around her glass as both men turned to stare at her. ‘M-me? Why does it depend on me?’ she stammered.

  ‘Because I was rather hoping that after the cataloguing is complete you might consider staying on,’ Janos said gently. ‘That’s why I want you to be here now. So I can ask you if you would like to be the museum’s curator.’

  Prudence stared at him speechlessly. Stay on? In Hungary? With Laszlo?

  Finally, she found her voice. ‘I—I’m not... I don’t know what to say...’ she faltered.

  Janos laughed. ‘Of course you don’t. How could you? Please don’t look so worried, Prudence. I’m not expecting you to give me an answer right now,’ he said hastily. ‘I’m just hoping you might think about it over the next few days. Or weeks. Take as long as you like.’

  Heart pounding, Prudence gave a weak smile. ‘Thank you. And thank you for thinking of me,’ she said slowly.

  Janos laughed. ‘My dear, I didn’t think of anyone else.’ He frowned. ‘I must confess before you came I was quite worried about how everything would work. You know—having a stranger in our home. But you coming here has been a blessing.’ He glanced across to Laszlo, his lined face creasing into a smile. ‘And you’re part of our family now—isn’t she, Laszlo?’

  Almost intoxicated by hope and longing, Prudence glanced across at Laszlo—and her bubbling happiness began to ebb away. For, meeting his gaze, she saw from his face that he shared none of her pleasure or excitement.

  She felt panic clutch at her chest as he stared at her in silence, smiling unsteadily, a strange, unfamiliar light glittering in his eyes.

  Abruptly he stood up and cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to go back to the party. Make sure everything’s okay. And you need to get some sleep, Papi. It’s been a very long night for you. And this can wait until morning. We don’t want to push Miss Elliot into a decision she regrets.’

  Her body tensed as he turned, but he didn’t even look at her as he walked out of the room. Pain and panic tore through her as she watched him leave. For one terrible, agonising moment she wanted to go after him and pull him back. Demand that he stay and explain. But she stopped herself. Laszlo had never been much good with words, but on this occasion he didn’t need to be. He didn’t need to explain anything. His actions were loud enough.

  He didn’t want her to stay.

  He didn’t want her at all.

  * * *

  It was nearly time to leave. The vardo gleamed in the late-morning sun. Gently Prudence ran her hand over the gold-painted scrolls and garlands and bouquets of flowers. It was truly a labour of love. For the craftsman who’d made it, at least. She bit her lip.

  Slowly she walked up the steps, touching, feeling the wood smooth and warm beneath her fingers. Picking up a pillow from the bed, she closed her eyes and inhaled: woodsmoke and orange blossom. It was his scent, but even as she inhaled it seemed to fade. Opening her eyes, she crawled onto the bed and stared bleakly out of the window. From where she lay the castle seemed to fill the tiny square of glass entirely, blocking out the light.

  Just as Laszlo had dominated her life from the moment she’d met him seven years ago.

  Rolling onto her back, she closed her eyes.

  They had come so close to making it work.

  Yesterday, for the first time ever, he had opened up to her about so many things. His family...his fears.
Her breath caught in her throat. He had needed her emotionally—wanted her support. And she had let herself believe that it meant something, for it had felt as if something had changed between them. As if there had been some shift in the fundament of their relationship.

  Her heart gave a painful lurch. But of course, as with so much of their relationship, nothing was what it seemed.

  She shivered, remembering Laszlo’s face when Janos had called her one of the family. She could have ignored his reaction. Let it go. As she’d let so many other things go because she’d feared losing him. But she didn’t fear losing him any more.

  On the contrary—what she’d feared most was that she wouldn’t be strong enough to leave him.

  Her eyes grew hot and damp. It had been so, so hard the last time. She drew in a breath. But she had got over it eventually. And she would do so again. In time, and with distance between them. Which was why she’d gone to find Janos that morning and told him that she needed to go home for a few days. She’d used the excuse that she needed to talk through his offer with Edmund and he’d agreed immediately, as she’d known he would. Jakob had even pulled strings so that a seat had been found for her on a plane leaving that evening.

  Opening her eyes, she covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hold back her misery. Part of her wanted to stay. The part that felt as if it was disintegrating. But what would be the point? Her love wasn’t enough for Laszlo; she wasn’t enough for him.

  She lifted her chin and the knot of misery in her stomach began to loosen. She was not about to crumble. Laszlo might not love her but she still had her self-respect. And if she wanted to avoid the same fate as her mother, diminished and worn down by unrequited love, she needed to get away from him.

  That meant leaving Hungary. And never coming back.

  It was the first time she’d acknowledged that fact—if not out loud then in her head. But she knew it was the right—the only choice she had. She needed to be where her judgement wasn’t skewed by her heart. That was why she was going home to her family.

  She glanced up at the sky and frowned. And why she needed to start packing.

  Back at the cottage, suitcase packed, she walked dully from room to room, checking for anything she might have forgotten. With a stab of pain she noticed Laszlo’s dinner jacket, hanging on the back of the kitchen door. He’d draped it over her shoulders when they’d left the party and she’d still been wearing it later when, dumb and still shivering from shock, she had let Janos get Gregor, the handyman and chauffeur, to escort her back to the cottage.

  She lifted her chin. She would give it to him at lunchtime. Despite eating breakfast at the cottage, she’d resigned herself to the fact that seeing him one last time was inevitable. At least with Janos there there would be no risk of her losing control and throwing a bowl of soup in his face.

  But at lunchtime Laszlo’s seat was conspicuously empty.

  Janos was apologetic. ‘He didn’t come down for breakfast either. He’s probably with Mihaly,’ he said, trying to sound encouraging as Prudence tried and failed to eat the delicious lunch Rosa had made especially for her. ‘I’m sure he’ll be here any moment.’

  But he hadn’t appeared.

  Later, waiting at the airport, she felt almost sick with nerves, for part of her had stupidly hoped that he would come after her.

  It was only when she was boarding the plane that she knew that it was really, finally over.

  Glancing wearily out of the window, she watched the patchwork of green and brown fields disappear beneath the clouds. It was better that it had ended like this, with her on her own. There would be nothing to haunt her now, for that last evening in Janos’s study seemed to have fled her memory.

  Outside, everything had turned white, and she felt something like peace slide over her. For even though it had been hard to leave, and it was going to be much, much harder to learn to live without him again, she didn’t regret what had happened. Finally she could accept that she and Laszlo would never have a future together. And, more importantly, she’d learned that there was nothing to fear from the past: her mother’s choices did not have to be hers.

  She had the power to shape her life. Finally, she could face the future without fear or regret.

  She shivered. Closing her eyes, she shrugged her coat over her body. But that was the future—right now she just wanted to get warm. Only, huddling into her jacket, she doubted she would ever feel warm again...

  * * *

  Staring at the museum’s sprinklers longingly, Prudence sighed. If only she could set them off... But, even though it was her last day at work, she couldn’t imagine herself ruining hundreds of priceless artefacts in exchange for one blissfully cool shower.

  She scowled. London was in the grip of an Indian summer and she was sick of the heat. Tucking a strand of limp hair behind her ear, she took a breath of warm air and began to speak.

  ‘And this is the cast of the Belvedere Apollo.’ Gesturing to the statue in front of her, Prudence turned to the crowd of tourists gathered expectantly around her and smiled. ‘It’s a copy made for Lord Burlington in Italy, sometime around 1719. Before it came to the museum it was held at Chiswick House.’

  She paused and glanced around at the faces staring up at her. Since leaving Seymour’s she had been working part-time at the museum, and although she’d enjoyed it she was looking forward to leaving. These people were her last tour group. And after that—

  She bit her lip. After that she’d take it one day at a time. What was important was that Daisy and Edmund had been so understanding and so supportive. About everything. And, although she would of course like to get a place of her own, she had agreed to keep on living with them for the immediate future.

  She looked up and took a breath. ‘The Belvedere Apollo takes its name from the Belvedere Palace in the Vatican, where it has resided since the early fifteen-hundreds. The sculpture depicts the Greek god Apollo as an archer. He is nude except for his sandals and a robe slung over his shoulders.’

  Pausing, she took another breath. It felt hotter than Greece in the museum, and suddenly she remembered the crisp, cold mornings in Hungary. For a fraction of a second, her smile faltered but, gripping her clipboard tightly, she ploughed on.

  ‘That concludes our tour this morning. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask. I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit to the museum and your stay in London. Thank you.’

  Picking up her handbag from behind the desk, she walked towards the hallway, where the air conditioning greeted her like a fridge door opening. Fanning her face, she sat down and closed her eyes.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  For a moment, her brain was in free fall and then her eyes flew open as she thought she recognised his voice. But it couldn’t be him, could it? Why would Laszlo be in London? He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.

  The sun was in her eyes. At first she could make out only a blurred dark shape. But then she saw his outline, and the breath seemed to freeze in her throat.

  He stepped out of the light and she felt her legs slide away from under her.

  He caught her as she fell.

  ‘Here...’

  She felt his hands, warm and firm, guide her into a seat. Her head was spinning.

  ‘Drink this.’

  Water from the water cooler. So cold and fresh it might have come from one of the streams that criss-crossed the fields around his castle.

  She moaned and Laszlo crouched down by her side, holding a glass to her lips.

  ‘Just sip it.’

  The noise of traffic surged into the room as downstairs a door was opened.

  ‘Are you okay, Miss Elliot?’ Now Joe, the doorman, was leaning over her. ‘Do you want me to get a doctor?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. Thank you.’

  And then Laszlo stood up, his body screening her from Joe’s anxious face. ‘I’ve got it from here.’

  He spoke pleasantly, but some alarm must have shown on her
face, for Joe stood his ground. ‘And you are, sir...?’

  ‘I’m her husband!’

  There was a tense silence, and then she heard Joe’s feet retreating across the tiled floor.

  She was suddenly furious. ‘What are you doing here?’

  He ignored her question. ‘Finish your water.’

  ‘Answer my question!’ She glared at him.

  He studied her impassively. ‘I will. After you’ve finished the water.’

  Swallowing her anger first, she drained the cup and handed it to him. ‘Now answer my question!’

  ‘Surely you should be answering my questions? After all, you do work here.’

  She stared at him in disbelief and then, reaching up, pulled her name badge off her shirt and dropped it in the bin. ‘Not any more!’ She glared at him and then abruptly stood up. ‘Goodbye, Laszlo!’ she said quietly. ‘I hope you enjoy the rest of your visit to the museum and your stay in London.’

  He regarded her calmly and then, as she took a step forward, moved in front of her.

  She shot him a frustrated glance. ‘Could you move, please?’

  He stood silently in front of her and she shook her head and looked away from him. ‘You can stand there all day if you want. I’m used to silent men made of stone.’ Her hands clenched at her sides. ‘But it won’t change anything. I have nothing left to say to you.’

  He waited until finally, reluctantly, she turned to face him. ‘Quite a lot to write, though, it would appear,’ he said. ‘About ending our marriage.’

  She watched wordlessly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. Her skin was suddenly tight across her face and she felt cornered. And then she met his gaze, for she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her.

  ‘What about it?’ she said shortly. ‘I told you in Hungary that I wanted a divorce. I still do. There’s no point leaving things as they are.’

  ‘And how are things?’ His voice was hoarse. ‘You see, I thought you were happy.’

  She shook her head in exasperation. ‘I was. I am. But when did my happiness matter to you, Laszlo? You only care about yourself, and you didn’t look too happy when your grandfather asked me to stay on as curator. Or when he called me one of the family.’