Too Close to the Sun

by Jess Foley

  ‘Never,’ Grace said. ‘I promise you.’

  He nodded, was silent a moment, then said, ‘And can you believe that she wanted to come back to us? I think she had the notion that if she said she was sorry and begged forgiveness, I would take her back, and once more she could be a wife to me and a mother to our child. Oh, make no mistake, I was cured of love for her by then. There was no chance that such a thing could happen.’

  ‘Did you tell her that?’

  ‘Yes. Though I think she found it hard to accept. I don’t know. She was – is – such an actress. She’s always been able to turn on the tears. In the beginning she was able to melt my heart – but in time I was cured of that too.’ His words came to a halt.

  ‘Where is she now?’

  ‘She’s in London, somewhere. I want her to keep away from Sophie and me. This is the reason we left London. She is the reason. I gave her money on two or three occasions, but I said she must never come to the house. But that wasn’t enough for her, the money. She wanted her old life back too. She didn’t give up on it. And in spite of my warnings she came to the house. Fortunately Sophie was out with the nurse. As soon as I saw Bella there at the door I took her away. She protested, but I didn’t care. I gave her money again, and I told her that if she ever came to the house again she would never get another penny. I made it clear, too, that her life with us was over. She had other ideas, though, and came to the house again. That was when I decided we must leave London and come to the country.’

  ‘Sophie, of course, knows absolutely nothing,’ Grace said.

  ‘Oh, my God, no. God forbid. She must never know. I let it be understood that her mother was dead, that she had died of the cholera while we were in Naples. I have no regrets about lying, and I would do it again if necessary. I shall continue to do it for as long as I need. I have my daughter to think of. And she must never, never, know what her mother was – is. She’s just a child now, but one day she’ll be sought in marriage to some fine young man. And I want the best for her. Only the best is good enough for her. And I will not have her mother – or anyone for that matter – ruining her chances. She continues to believe that her mother is dead, and that suits me. Better that than the truth. The truth would destroy her and all her chances of happiness. And as long as I have the power I will never allow that to happen.’

  For a brief moment Grace thought she could see in his eyes the glisten of unshed tears. But he turned his face away from her again.

  ‘So now you know,’ he said. ‘Now you know the reason I could not offer you marriage. And the irony is that I cannot even consider a divorce. As difficult as divorce is I would have chosen it rather than lie and be tied to her for ever. But a divorce would create such a scandal, and all the truth would come out about my wife, and that would be enough to finish Sophie’s chances in life. She would have no future at all. So you see, I have to stay married. I think the best I can hope for is that Bella does not come to bother us here. My work has suffered, of course, having to move like this – but if it protects Sophie’s future then that’s all that matters.’

  Grace was silent. She could think of nothing to say. She had never imagined that his story could be anything like this.

  A drop of rain fell on her cheek, and she suddenly realized that the skies had darkened.

  Kester muttered, ‘It’s starting to rain,’ and, reaching out, took her hand and drew her from the seat. Side by side they walked quickly over the grass towards the exit, and even as they moved out onto the street the rain stopped.

  ‘Hardly even a shower,’ Grace said.

  They walked in silence for some moments, then Kester said, ‘You said you had to go to a particular shop.’

  ‘Yes, the draper’s, Seager’s.’

  ‘What are you doing after that? Returning to Asterleigh House?’

  ‘No – I’m staying with my aunt for a while. My Aunt Edie in Remmer Ridge.’

  ‘You wanted a little change of scene, did you?’

  When she did not answer, he said: ‘I don’t know whether I should have told you all that. All that about my wife.’

  ‘I’m so glad you did.’

  ‘Yes. I had to, anyway. You had to know.’

  Although the rain had stopped for now, the skies still looked threatening.

  ‘I’ll walk with you to Seager’s,’ Kester said.

  She wanted to protest, but she could not find the words without giving too much away. So, keeping silent, she assented.

  When they got to the nearest entrance to the draper’s shop, Grace turned to Kester and said, ‘I’ll finish my shopping now …’

  ‘I’ll wait for you,’ he said. He pointed to the teashop on the other side of the street, the one they had visited earlier for such a brief time. With an ironic smile he added, ‘It looks as if I’m bound to take some tea in there after all.’

  Again Grace wanted to protest, but there were no words that she could find, even if she could have found a reason.

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll join you in a little while. But then I must catch my train.’

  ‘How long will you be?’

  ‘Oh, twenty minutes perhaps. Half an hour.’

  She turned then and went into the store and made her way to the department where they catered for bridal wear. The alterations were complete, she found, and once more she tried on the dress. In a small dressing room she stood before a full length glass, and saw before her a young woman in a long bridal gown with a veil made of the finest handmade lace. She was a bride. ‘Is there something wrong, miss?’ asked the middle-aged female assistant, adding with a little laugh: ‘You look almost a little sad.’ ‘No, no, everything is fine,’ Grace replied. ‘Miss – if I might suggest,’ said the assistant, ‘ – why not step outside where the light is better? You’ll get the full picture then …’ And Grace nodded acquiescence, and, with the woman holding up the skirts of the dress, moved out of the dressing room into the shop proper, and there stood in front of a different glass, briefly lifting the veil so that it framed her chestnut hair. ‘Everything is fine,’ Grace said, and the woman ohed and ahed over the dress and twitched at the skirt and the veil. Grace thanked her. Back in the dressing room she took off the dress and changed into her own street clothes. And the dress was wrapped and boxed, and the balance of her money was paid over and she left.

  Outside the store, on the threshold of the teashop she hesitated. What purpose would it serve to see Kester again? As much as she wanted to see him, it could do no good whatever. In fact, she told herself, it could only do harm. Her feelings had not changed towards him, she realized that, but they had no future together; he had a wife, and no matter how much he might wish to, he could not, would not, give her up.

  But then her steps were leading her into the teashop, and she looked around in the shaded interior and there was Kester, sitting at the table next to the one they had previously occupied, standing up as she turned and saw him, gravely smiling at her.

  She reached his side and sat down on the chair he pulled out for her. The tablecloth was still bare. ‘Have you ordered anything yet?’ she said.

  ‘I ordered some tea. Just a minute ago. I only just got in here myself.’

  She set the box containing her wedding dress on the empty chair beside them, and began to take off her gloves.

  ‘I saw,’ he said. His words came out bluntly.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I saw you – in Seager’s.’

  ‘What?’ she said. ‘I don’t understand. You say you –’

  ‘I saw you – in your wedding dress.’

  She opened her mouth but no words came.

  ‘I saw you,’ he said again. ‘I saw you wearing your wedding dress.’

  There was nothing for her to say. She was only aware that she regretted his knowing. Though of course he would have to have learned of it at some time.

  ‘You’re getting married,’ he said,’ and I never knew.’

  She looked down at her cup.<
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  ‘I never dreamed,’ he said. ‘It’s the last thing I could have foreseen.’ He paused. ‘Why didn’t you tell me straight away?’

  She could give no answer to this.

  He sighed. ‘But of course, why should it not happen?’ he said. ‘Just because I’ve been moping about, thinking about past things, that’s no reason to think you might not be doing the same. Look at me, Grace, please.’

  She raised her head now, turning to face him.

  ‘Am I to learn who it is?’ he said. ‘Who is the fortunate man – the most fortunate man who has so quickly captured your heart?’

  ‘Listen –’ she said. And then stopped, unable to continue.

  ‘Yes, go on,’ he said.

  A few moments, and then, unable to put the moment off any longer, she said, ‘I – I am to marry Mr Spencer. On Saturday.’

  Silence followed her words for several moments, and during the time Kester looked at her with a half-frown on his brow. Then his mouth moved in the shadow of an ironic smile. ‘Mr Spencer. Edward Spencer.’ He shook his head. ‘How could I possibly have guessed such a thing?’ He leaned a little closer to her. ‘I can’t get over the sight of you there in the store. There I was, wandering in, just killing time while I waited for you, and suddenly there you were, in your wedding gown. I didn’t know it was you immediately. I just saw a girl in a veil come out of a small room and stand before a glass. And there was something about her figure, her carriage. And then she lifted the veil and I saw her face …’

  ‘Kester …’

  ‘But not the happiest face, I have to say. You were not smiling as a bride should smile. Not in my reckoning, anyway. And I wonder if Mr Spencer is smiling. No doubt he is. And indeed, why not? His wife has not so long been dead, but here he is about to walk down the aisle again. And this time with a beautiful and captivating young woman.’

  She looked at him in horror. ‘Stop. Please stop.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘I’m in danger of being indelicate, am I? I’m sorry about that. Well, I suppose I should be congratulating you. Yes, indeed! My congratulations to you. And to Mr Spencer also.’

  The sarcastic tone of his words was like a knife to her flesh. But she could find no words to say.

  ‘Well, I’m glad you’ve found love,’ he said after a moment. ‘I suppose I should be glad of that. After all, I couldn’t offer you anything more than that. And sometimes it isn’t enough.’ He paused. ‘And have you found love?’

  Grace hesitated for just a moment then reached for her gloves.

  ‘Was that a difficult question for you to answer?’ he said. ‘It shouldn’t be. There should be only one answer and it should be given immediately, without a moment’s pause. Do I take it that you have not? That you have not found love – or at least that there is some doubt as to whether you have?’

  With her gloves on, Grace picked up her bag and began to rise from her seat. At once Kester reached out and took her arm, staying her.

  ‘If you’re not marrying him for love, Grace, then what are you marrying him for?’

  She felt tears of anger, shame and humiliation well up, stinging her eyes. ‘I can’t be forced to sit and listen to this,’ she said, her nostrils flaring, and still holding her bag, she went to remove his fingers from her wrist. At the first touch of pressure from her hand he released her and held up his hands, like a man demonstrating that he is unarmed.

  ‘I give up,’ he said. ‘Oh, Grace.’ He slowly shook his head.

  And now that she was freed of his grasp, Grace sank back into her seat, her head turned away from him so that he should not see her tears.

  ‘Grace Harper,’ she heard him whisper, as he leaned closer to her. ‘Grace Harper, soon to be mistress of Asterleigh House. And is that what you wanted?’ A brief pause. ‘What are you after, Grace? Are you running towards something, or making your escape? I think it’s the latter.’ His voice was bitter. ‘And you’re flying very high, Grace. So high. Are you ready for such a flight? Be careful. Remember Icarus. Don’t go flying too close to the sun.’She could bear no more. Now when she rose she brooked no hindrance – not that he made any attempt to prevent her move. Her bag on one arm, the box holding her wedding dress under the other, she turned and went out onto the street.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The October night sky was a vast, deep blue canopy, anchored low in the west by one gleaming star. Standing at the drawing room window, Grace looked up at the sky, at the star and gave a little falling sigh of sadness. How incredibly wide was the whole universe. And what possible significance in it could her own being, her own self and her own problems have? Nevertheless everything had to be dealt with; no matter how small one might be in the great scheme of things, one still had to go on; the whole universe could be sliding across the emptiness, but still every living thing in it continued on its fated way, to eat, to mate, to live.

  Illuminated by the light of a candle set on a small table nearby, her face was dimly reflected in the window pane, the face – shadowed alabaster – almost of a ghost, lit from beneath so that the hollows of her eyes were dark and her hair lost its colour and faded into the shadows behind.

  How quickly the time passed, she thought. Here it was October, six months since her wedding. She so rarely thought of that day, those moments when she had stood at the altar with Edward at her side, and they had made their vows to one another. Since that time there had been occasions when she had asked herself whether she was happy – as if it really mattered, she had then admonished herself. For she had not necessarily been expecting happiness from this marriage; happiness was not what she had been seeking when she had entered into it. At best she was sometimes content with her lot, and she would be content with that.

  One difficulty Grace had with her life at Asterleigh was keeping herself occupied. In the past she had had Mrs Spencer to assist, and at other times her teaching. Now she was mistress of the house and there was almost nothing for her to do. She missed her teaching but had to acknowledge that that part of her life was gone for ever. During the summer months she had decided to take up her painting again, and this she had done, trying to settle herself in Mrs Spencer’s studio and using her easel, palette, paints and brushes. It had not felt right, though; the place was still so much the late Mrs Spencer’s own, and Grace felt ill at ease, like a conscience-stricken trespasser. Mrs Spencer’s things were all around her, all her finished and unfinished canvases – even the unfinished portrait of Grace herself, standing tall, leaning against the wall by the window. So she had given up the idea of painting, at least for the time being. And as there was nothing to do in the matter of the running of the house – not with the capable hands of Mrs Sandiston at the helm – Grace found that she spent her days reading, sewing, embroidering, riding the grey mare around the paddock or playing the occasional game of patience. Soon, she told herself, ironically, she must begin to take up charity work. On one occasion she had spoken to Edward about finding some respectable employment somewhere, but he had reacted angrily. ‘It’s enough that I have to work,’ he said. ‘Certainly no wife of mine ever shall.’

  Edward’s behaviour had come to surprise her in several ways, and not to the good. He had changed since their marriage. Whether fundamentally or merely on the surface, the result was the same. In the past, from the time of their early meetings to the time of their wedding, he had always been kind, solicitous and showing understanding. But now such days seemed for the most part to be over, and though at times he could be tender with her, those times seemed few and far between. Perhaps his kindness and warmth had merely been part of an act designed to win her over – and now that she was his he was simply reverting to his true nature, giving up the charade. But she had the feeling there was more to it than this. Perhaps the answer would come in time. But whatever it was, the answer, she had to put up with the manifestation of his demons. So often she found him difficult and unapproachable; sometimes having to tread so warily if he was not to be offended or enrag
ed. But surprisingly, on some occasions when he did become angry it would follow that he would apologize for his behaviour and plead for forgiveness. At times there was no knowing how to deal with things.

  A little earlier this evening she had gone to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. Now she sipped from the cup as she gazed out into the night. All the servants had gone to bed; Billy too, long ago; to bed in his same room, the one he had been given on first arriving at the house. Edward had offered him a different, larger room, but Billy had insisted that he was happy where he was. For Billy there had been slight changes, of course, since his sister’s marriage, but not so great that he found his life very different. In essence it was not, on the surface, anyway; he continued with his schooling, and his associations with his schoolfriends, and even – purely out of choice because he liked to be occupied – giving the occasional help in the kitchen, the garden and the stable. The one main difference in his life – which Grace was aware of if not he – was that he had security. And that was what mattered.

  Where the servants were concerned, Grace had expected greater changes in her relationship with them; and great changes there had been, but those changes had not been such that she was unable to deal with them. Before her marriage, Edward had told her, he had gathered the house servants together and informed them that he was to marry Miss Harper, the late Mrs Spencer’s former companion. They already knew, of course, as the banns had been called in the church of St Michael’s in Remmer Ridge. So they were prepared for and expecting the information. And Grace had pictured him as he had stood before them, his glance daring the very slightest critique or expression of disapproval. And so, when she had returned to Asterleigh House, she had returned as Edward’s wife, their new mistress. Since then, in respect of her being mistress of the house, everything had gone well; there had been not a hint of anything untoward in the servants’ manner or behaviour. Indeed, they knew their master well enough to know that were there such they would not last a minute longer in their present employment. If anyone had sometimes felt at a loss in the new mistress-servant relationship it was as often as not Grace herself, for she had at first found it difficult to give instructions to those with whom she had formerly been almost on the same level. Mrs Sandiston for instance. But that lady had immediately established herself in the new relationship, at once acknowledging Grace’s superior social station. Grace was grateful for it.