‘There is a difference between us, all the same,’ he commented when he heard her wistful day-dreams. ‘A young man trying to earn a living as a painter can suffer nothing worse than starvation. But a young woman who goes on the stage –’
It was out of respect for her innocence, Alexa supposed, that he did not finish the sentence. But she knew what he was thinking. The argument was one which she had heard too often from Margaret, and it still had the power to annoy her.
‘That depends, surely, on the young woman,’ she expostulated. ‘There is nothing immoral in itself in appearing before an audience.’
‘Perhaps not,’ he said doubtfully. ‘But you must admit that the temptations facing an actress or a singer are very great indeed. A young woman living quietly at home with her mother or guardian is automatically protected against unpleasant advances of any kind. But when the same young woman displays herself on the stage, she seems almost to be inviting such advances, and she must repel them for herself. It is not to be wondered at if she fails, because she is expected to fail.’
Just in time, Alexa remembered that this was a subject on which she no longer wanted to argue. She changed the subject back to an earlier part of their conversation. ‘You were saying that you had inherited some of your grandfather’s characteristics,’ she reminded him. ‘He was not an artist, was he?’
‘No. Doubtless painting was thought as unsuitable a pastime for a gentleman in his time as it is now. But he was a patron of artists. And he bought carvings and Eastern paintings, the best he could find. He had a love of beautiful things. That is what I have inherited. I love beautiful things too.’ He turned away from the window to look at her. ‘And you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Alexa.’
His kiss was gentle, but she could feel the violence of his heartbeat as he held her close. They did not speak again until it was time for them to go in for dinner.
The next two weeks passed in a haze of happiness for Alexa. She did her best to control her hopes. If Matthew was serious in wanting to become an artist, many years were likely to pass before he would be able to support a wife. And yet, although she was inexperienced in the ways of the world, she knew that by kissing her Matthew had declared his love and made a commitment – and she, accepting the kiss, had accepted that she too was committed. If they concealed the state of affairs from the household, it was in order that they might continue to enjoy the unusual freedom which was a consequence of their equally unusual closeness of upbringing. Matthew hurried home from the shipping office as early as he could each evening and worked on her portrait until the light faded. He kissed her only at the end of each sitting, as they prepared to return to the company of the family, but the anticipation of this moment excited Alexa all the time she was posing, and the memory of it carried her through the following day. She tried to hide her feelings, but Sophie must have sensed them, for on the second Saturday, when Matthew was free in the afternoon as well as the evening, the sitting was interrupted by the opening of the tower room door. Beatrice came in, bad-tempered, and sat down on a chair. They waited for her to speak.
‘Oh, I bring no message for you,’ she said. ‘Mama has sent me to find Alexa and keep her company.’
‘Then you need not trouble yourself, because I am already making sure that she is not lonely,’ Matthew said.
Beatrice gave the sharp laugh that was characteristic of her. ‘I think that is precisely what Mama had in mind,’ she said. Her voice rose to a shriller pitch as she quoted. ‘“While Alexa is our guest, we must not allow her reputation to suffer from any failure on our part to chaperone her adequately.” So I hope, dear brother, that you can catch a likeness quickly.’
She made herself comfortable with a book. Matthew worked in silence for a little, but his sister’s presence made the atmosphere heavy, and Alexa was not surprised when he flung down his brushes and complained that the light was not good enough. Beatrice smirked with triumph as she followed them out.
Alexa did not allow herself to be despondent for long. On Monday Beatrice was due to attend an evening party, to which Sophie would take her. It had been made very clear that although Alexa was welcome to go with Sophie on her rounds of morning calls, the company of a young girl who was so very much more beautiful than poor Beatrice was not to be tolerated on any social occasion at which potential husbands might be present. It was possible that a maid might be sent along to the tower room to act as chaperone; but maids could be bribed.
On Monday, therefore, Alexa made her way there as usual. The time of Matthew’s return from work came and passed, but his footsteps were not to be heard running eagerly up the steps. At first Alexa fretted; then she became annoyed; and, at last, anxious. She went back into the main house, arriving in the central hall just as Sophie and Beatrice were leaving for the party. Perhaps they had spitefully forced Matthew to accompany them. While pretending to wave them a cheerful goodbye, she managed to take a good look inside the carriage. He was not there.
Disconsolate, she wandered through the house, looking into each room in turn, but without success. The library door was open. Had she known that William Lorimer was inside she would not have disturbed him, but she had stepped through the doorway before she was able to see him standing beside the fireplace. He was reading a letter, and something in the intensity of his stillness told her at once that she would find the answer to her questions here.
5
Any efficient businessman is accustomed to calculate precisely the effects of his actions. If William Lorimer allowed himself to be observed by Alexa as he tore the letter he was holding into tiny pieces, across and across, it was because he saw the need to harness his anger to a positive policy.
That was not to say that there was anything feigned about his fury. But in fact an hour had passed since two letters from Matthew had been delivered by messenger. One was addressed to William himself; the other to Alexa. From his own brief message William learned that his elder son proposed to travel to Paris and study painting with the intention of earning a living as an artist. As soon as he had taken that in, he had felt no hesitation at all in opening the letter addressed to Alexa.
Its tone was sentimental. Matthew stated brutally enough to her – as to his father – that the thought of a lifetime spent in the offices of the Lorimer Line appalled him. It might prove that his artistic talent would not be strong enough to support him, but if he were to abandon his ambitions without ever putting them to the test, he believed that he would be discontented for the rest of his life. He begged Alexa to forgive him for going. In particular, he beseeched her to understand his cowardice in not telling her of his decision in person: he had known in advance that if he were to see tears in her beautiful eyes he would never have the strength to leave.
But his desertion was not to make her think that he did not love her. On the contrary – what he had to say on the contrary had caused William’s head to shake in amazement at the indiscretion of young men. If she could forgive the abruptness of his departure, Matthew begged Alexa to write to him, to consider herself as truly bound to him as he was to her. And in return he promised that at the end of three years, when she was twenty-one, if he had not succeeded in establishing himself securely enough to support a wife, he would return to Bristol and ask his father to take him back again into the family business in order that they might marry. In the meantime, he hoped that Alexa might use the interim to test her own ambitions as he proposed to test his. And she was never to forget that he adored her.
There were more endearments and protestations of a similarly romantic nature. But none of these were of any significance compared with the shock of learning that Matthew had fallen in love with Alexa.
William, so meticulous in his eye for business details, gave less attention to the relationships within his family. He had thought of Alexa as being a child, because it was as a child that she had shared his own children’s schoolroom and she was still young when she left Brinsley House to live with Ma
rgaret at Elm Lodge. He knew that she and Matthew had always been friendly. Neither Matthew’s visit to Elm Lodge this summer nor his return invitation to Alexa had seemed of any significance. How Margaret could have been so blind to what was happening was a question which he would have the right to ask. She knew, as William did, that any marriage between the two was out of the question – not because of any prejudice on his own part, but as a matter of law. But Matthew and Alexa were not aware that this was the case. Neither of them had ever been allowed to learn that Alexa was in fact Matthew’s aunt.
So although William was angry with Matthew, and scornful of his foolishness in rejecting opportunities which most young men would have welcomed, there was no element of spite in his immediate decision that the two young people ought not to meet again. It was in their own best interests that this should be the case. But to explain the legal situation to each of them could only cause bitterness against the adults who had kept their true relationship secret for so long. It had been William who ordained that Alexa should not be publicly acknowledged as the daughter of John Junius Lorimer. Now he recognized that he must accept some responsibility for the consequences of that instruction.
With all this clear in his mind, the decision that Alexa should not be allowed to read the letter which Matthew had sent her followed almost inevitably. She would of course be hurt by the discovery that the man she loved had run away. To give Matthew back to her, in a sense, and then immediately explain why she could not be allowed to keep him, would be cruel. How very much kinder it would be to let a single outburst of tears and unhappiness bring the whole sad affair to an end.
It was part of the necessary charade that he should seem to be still in the first shock of learning what had happened when Alexa appeared in the doorway of the library. He looked up as though he had only just noticed her.
‘It’s too bad!’ he exclaimed. ‘Have young people no gratitude nowadays? No respect for their parents? No sense of duty?’ He made an apologetic gesture with his hands. ‘I’m sorry, Alexa. My anger isn’t with you. It’s Matthew who has behaved unpardonably.’
‘What has he done?’ Alexa’s eyes widened in apprehension.
‘He’s gone, that’s what he’s done. Left home. To be an artist, he says. Of all the ridiculous ideas! As though he could hope to support himself in such a way! And to sneak away so secretly! You’ve seen a good deal of him in the past two weeks, Alexa. Did he mention any plan of the kind to you?’
If he had needed an answer, he could have found it in the pallor of Alexa’s face.
‘No, I can see he gave no more warning to you than to me. Come and sit down, my dear.’ He helped her to the leather arm-chair beside the fireplace.
‘He spoke of his wish to paint,’ Alexa whispered. ‘But only in general terms. There was no suggestion that he intended to take any action. And I thought – I thought -’ She was silenced by the need to control her tears.
‘He talked to me in the same way,’ William said, truthfully. ‘Several times, in fact – on the last occasion only a few days ago. I tried to point out how fortunate he was to look forward to a share in the family business and to have secure employment now. It’s all very well starving in a garret by yourself, I told him. But one day you’ll want to get married. Wives cost money. They like to buy clothes, to eat something more than air. You’ll want your own home. You’ll want to have children. You’ll be glad then that you’ve got the Lorimer Line behind you. Of course, what he really wanted was for me to give him money: a private income. But a business like mine grows by using its resources to expand, not frittering them away on hangers-on. It wasn’t the first time I’d said that sort of thing to him. But it was the first time that he gave the impression of seeing the sense of it. I thought he’d got over all these fanciful ideas. And now, suddenly –’ He gave a snort of indignation that was genuine enough.
‘Where has he gone?’ Alexa asked.
‘How should I know?’ It was the first direct lie William had told, but it did not disturb his conscience. Once he had decided what course of action would be for the best, it must be pursued single-mindedly. Because Matthew’s letter had not only mentioned Paris but had given a poste restante address there to which he hoped Alexa would write, William did his best to turn her thoughts as far away from that city as possible. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t make for New York. He knows I’d come and haul him back if he stayed in England. And I’ve no doubt he was able to fool one of my captains into thinking that he had authority to take a passage. Though what’s New York likely to teach him? Tell me that.’ He gave another angry sigh. ‘I must calm myself down,’ he said. ‘Think about it later. Will you sing something for me, my dear? I remember from your earlier years what a sweet voice you have.’
He offered his arm, helping her from the chair and leading her towards the piano in the large drawing room. The support was needed, for she seemed almost unable to move.
‘Did Matthew send any message to me in his letter?’ she asked.
‘“Tell Alexa I’m sorry,” he wrote. Sorry for what, he didn’t say. Had you two had a quarrel? Is that why he’s gone?’
‘No,’ said Alexa. She was still near to tears. ‘We never quarrelled.’
‘Then I suppose we must explain it by a warped feeling of ambition. I must confess, I thought the boy was too easy-going to act as decisively as this. In fact, though I think he’s a fool to turn his back on a good position in society and the sort of prosperous future that most young men would give their eyes for, I suppose he’s showing more initiative by leaving than ever he did while he muddled up my figures for me in the office. He’ll be back in a year or two, I don’t doubt, with his tail between his legs. I lost my temper because he ought to have asked my permission. But when I think of it, he did ask from time to time, and a dusty answer I always gave him.’
It was true, but it was not enough to excuse Matthew’s unfilial behaviour. His need for distraction, as he again pressed an unwilling Alexa to sing, was a genuine one, and he forced himself to concentrate with greater attention than he was normally prepared to devote to any kind of musical entertainment.
She began unsteadily, suggesting that the struggle not to weep was robbing her of breath. But almost at once a curious change took place. It was as though, subjecting her emotions to the music, she was unable to give less than her best to any listener. A firmness crept first of all into her fingers, as she accompanied herself on the piano, and then into her voice. William was startled into an unexpected admiration. He took a step back in order that he could watch her as he listened, and set his mind to consider the possibilities.
She had been beautiful as a child and she was beautiful now as a young woman. William wasted little of his time in observing the attractions of the opposite sex, but he could recognize beauty when he saw it. And her voice had a quality quite different from that of the young ladies whose after-dinner warblings he was from time to time forced to endure. It even seemed to him that Alexa was singing better than many of the professional performers who appeared in the city’s subscription concerts.
The fact that he had never liked her made it easier for William to be dispassionate. Her very existence was a reminder of a side of his father’s character that would have been better forgotten. But whatever his personal feelings might be, he had already accepted his duty to treat her as a member of the family, and now he discerned another responsibility. She was unhappy. She herself might believe that her unhappiness was caused only by Matthew’s behaviour. William knew better. He was not a man to make sentimental gestures, but he had always recognized obligations.
‘Thank you,’ he said when she had finished. ‘Alexa, my dear, I must congratulate you. Your voice has matured out of all recognition. You have a most remarkable gift.’
‘I wish I might have the chance to use it,’ said Alexa, miserably.
‘What are your ambitions?’
‘My true ambition would be to become a prima donna assoluta
. But even the humblest role in the world of opera would satisfy me.’
‘And what are you doing about it?’
‘What can I do, Mr Lorimer? I have no money, no influential connections. My guardian doesn’t approve of my ambitions, so how can I expect her to help me? I can practise – I do practise: but although I improve my voice, no one will ever hear it.’
‘Is this a true ambition, Alexa, or merely the sort of dream in which all young girls, I imagine, indulge from time to time? If I were to offer you help, would you accept it?’
‘What kind of help do you mean, Mr Lorimer?’
‘I have an acquaintance in London,’ he said. ‘He is a gentleman, not a musician, but is nevertheless very much involved in the musical life of the city. He sees himself as a patron. If he felt, as I do, that your voice would repay proper training, he might arrange this for you, and even undertake your support while the training lasted.’
‘Why should he do such a thing for a stranger?’ asked Alexa.
‘He would do it only if he thought your reputation in the end would reflect credit on his judgement. And he would do it not exactly for a stranger, but for me. A good deal in the business world depends on goodwill. He owes me a favour, which he could repay in this way without much trouble to himself – and then he would be in a position to hope for another favour from me later on.’
‘You’re very kind to make such an offer, Mr Lorimer,’ said Alexa, her eyes revealing a mixture of hope and apprehension. No doubt, after so many years of dreaming, it was difficult for her to grasp the possibility that her dreams might actually come true.
‘I feel sorry for you,’ said William. There had been no spite in his decision to keep Matthew’s letter from Alexa, but perhaps at this moment he was influenced by memories of old disputes with Margaret, of his resentment at her repeated refusals to live as a woman without a husband should, quietly in her brother’s household. He was careful, however, to appear loyal to her as he justified his offer.
The Lorimer Legacy Page 3
