The director asked her name. She had been known as Alexa Lorimer since Margaret adopted her, but now she replied without hesitation, ‘Alexa Reni.’ It would not have occurred to any of them that she was a foreigner, and by using her mother’s name the illusion could be maintained. Her colouring might be unusual for an Italian, but not unheard-of – the blonde and chestnut-haired models of Botticelli and Titian had come from this northern part of the country.
That evening, back in Sirmione, Alexa told Lady Glanville that she had found herself a new teacher in Bergamo, and asked permission to return there once a week for a lesson. The lie did not disturb her conscience, for it was made with the kindest of motives – she could hardly announce that she was making plans to prepare for Lady Glanville’s own death.
The deception did not have to continue for very long. Lord Glanville used Christmas as his ostensible reason for abandoning his affairs in England in order to be with his wife; but he arrived at the beginning of December and was vague about how long he would stay. A week was enough. As though she had only been waiting for the reunion, Lady Glanville died in his arms.
5
Deaths and homecomings so often follow each other that welcome and condolence become confused. Margaret already knew from Alexa’s letters that Lady Glanville had not long to live. So when Robert called from his nursery window, one afternoon early in 1897, to say that he could see a carriage coming up the drive, she did her best to subdue her reactions. Neither sympathy nor etiquette, however, could prevent her from running to the door. Quite apart from the pleasure which she took in Lord Glanville’s visits – for he had driven over from his country house, Blaize, several times since that first occasion on which he had acted as Alexa’s postman – it was possible that today he might be bringing Alexa with him, her duties as a companion sadly brought to an end.
She was disappointed, but was given no time in which to be alarmed. Hardly had Lord Glanville stepped down from the carriage before he was reassuring her.
‘Alexa is well, but she has remained in Italy,’ he said as they shook hands. ‘You shall have a full report. But first of all, I must have my Christmas present for Robert unloaded. It comes so late that he may think I have forgotten him.’
Margaret looked at the mourning ribbon round his arm. ‘Lord Glanville, I am so sorry –’
Their hands were still touching in greeting as she spoke. He brought his other hand up to enclose hers as though he were the one to comfort her, and not the other way round.
‘Fanny’s life in these past years was so full of pain that I can almost feel glad she is released from it,’ he said. ‘I spent long enough grieving when I first saw how tightly the disease was gripping her, and again when I learned that there was no cure. Now I must teach myself to be happy that it’s over. But I am glad of your sympathy.’
Not for the first time, as he squeezed her hand slightly, Margaret was warmed by the surprising friendship which had grown between them. As an aristocrat he did not trouble himself with the sort of conventions by which life at Brinsley House had been ruled; and Margaret – a widow, a professional woman, and by now in her fortieth year – was equally free of any doubts about the propriety of holding long discussions with a gentleman in the privacy of her drawing room.
She recognized, too, that in a quite different way he enjoyed her son’s company almost as much as her own. Robert was an active, mischievous little boy with carrot-orange hair and a wide, friendly grin. He was not yet old enough to understand that he lacked a father, but the need must have been there subconsciously, for he attached himself to his mother’s tall visitor whenever he could escape from his nursemaid’s clutches. On this occasion, however, he was easily persuaded to follow the coachman, who was carrying a huge rocking horse up to the nursery.
‘You spoil him, Lord Glanville,’ protested Margaret, as she watched her son delightedly practising his gallops even while he was still on the way upstairs.
‘One of the pleasures of life which I have most missed in the past has been that of giving presents to children,’ he said.
Margaret did not argue. She knew that the lack of an heir, a son to whom he could leave all his property as well as his title, was a grief which had been made all the stronger because of the impossibility of ever discussing it with his wife. But he would not want to discuss it with anyone else, either.
‘I returned to Sirmione as soon as the doctor wrote to tell me that Fanny had not much longer to live,’ Lord Glanville said as soon as Robert’s preoccupation with his new possession left the adults free to talk privately in the drawing room. ‘In the days before her death, I couldn’t bring myself even to think about the future, much less to discuss it with anyone. I simply took it for granted that when the time came, Alexa would return with me to England.’
‘What alternative had she?’ asked Margaret, as surprised now as he must have been then.
‘She told me, to my astonishment, that she had the promise of a temporary engagement with an opera company in Bergamo. She thanked me very nicely for the help I had given her. Then –’ he laughed at the memory – ‘she turned against me the arguments I had sometimes used in speaking to her of my work with the Women’s Committee, reminding me how strongly I felt that many women were more capable of responsibility than either they or anyone else allowed. She hoped that I would be glad to hear her decision: that from now on she ought to stand on her own feet.’
He paused for a moment, as though remembering the scene, and began abruptly to pace up and down the room. ‘I wish you could have seen her,’ he said. ‘Standing before me, with her arms clasped in front of her like a meek schoolgirl while she explained her plans; but all the time with her head held high and her eyes flashing with excitement and determination. In a curious way she reminded me of yourself at that moment.’
Margaret could guess why. John Junius Lorimer’s two daughters had inherited his confident spirit in equal measure. But there was no need to provide any explanation. ‘What did you say?’ she asked instead.
‘My first instinct was to refuse my permission. For a young English girl to live alone in a foreign country, with no security of income, unprotected, and surrounded by men whose nature it is to take advantage of young women – the whole proposal seemed ridiculous. But then I had to remind myself that I have no rights over her. I’m not her father. If I acted as though I were, Alexa would think of me as interfering and autocratic, but she would still be under no obligation to obey me. And I have to confess that the excitement in her eyes won me over. She was so happy and so hopeful, I couldn’t bring myself to discourage her.’
‘So you gave her your blessing?’
‘I reminded her of her duty to you.’ He laid a letter on the table beside Margaret. ‘She has written, naturally. But she answered me at the time with such deep feeling that I can quote her almost word for word.’ He turned back to face Margaret as he did so. ‘She told me that you had been so good to her, and that she loved you so dearly, that she would not for the world do anything to hurt you. But she sincerely believed that you would understand her feelings because, when you were exactly her age now, you knew what it was to see a door opening ahead and to fear that you might be prevented from passing through it. And I remembered that at our first meeting you expressed very much the same sentiments yourself. So when Alexa told me that she had faith in your affection, it seemed likely to me that her faith was justified. I didn’t attempt to argue any further.’
Margaret remembered the occasion to which he referred, but she could not help being troubled by Alexa’s plans. ‘You spoke of a temporary engagement, Lord Glanville,’ she said. ‘Does that mean that Alexa may return to England soon?’
‘The winter season extends for only a few more months. However, it appears that in the Arena at Verona a summer season is staged. She hopes that if she can make a sufficient impression in Bergamo, she will be invited to Verona. It’s difficult for me to guess whether her hopes will be justified. But her teache
r in Baden-Baden told me privately that Alexa had all the potential of a great performer. Alexa herself seemed confident that she only needed one good opportunity to display her ability, and then it would be recognized at once. That was what made me feel it would be too harsh to deprive her of the chance. I took her to Bergamo myself and settled her into lodgings, so that it might be observed that she was not alone in the world. And I have banked for her there a sum which will pay for her journey home. Now she can leave at any time, even if her own resources are not sufficient.’
Margaret thanked him for his kindness and then considered the matter for a little while in silence. At last, smiling, she shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of helplessness.
‘I have to let her go!’ she exclaimed. ‘I suppose I must have let her go already, when you first came to tell me where she was and I did not ask her to return. I told you then that I was not completely happy about her choice of career, but what can I offer her here instead? A country life so quiet that I could not even introduce her to a prospective husband, if marriage was what she had in mind. I had thought at one time that she might find employment as a music teacher – but I know well enough that even in that capacity she would be exposed to danger from the fathers and brothers of her pupils. The temptations of the theatre may not prove to be any greater, and of course its rewards will be considerable if she is successful. I have to hope that her upbringing will protect her. Since her ambitions are high, I’m happy that she has some hope of realizing them.’
‘You should come to London,’ said Lord Glanville. His pacing of the drawing room stopped as abruptly as it had begun and he sat down again to face her. ‘If the country offers no company for Alexa, what society does it afford yourself?’
‘I have never cared for society, as long as I can feel my work to be of value,’ said Margaret, startled by the abrupt change of subject. ‘And the country is the best place for a child.’
‘Robert will be happy and healthy anywhere as long as he is in your care, and as he grows older he will benefit as much as you from the conversation of more intelligent companions than a village school can provide. As for the value of your work, I believe that you are wasting your training and energy. An elderly man, half retired at the end of his career, could be happy in this practice. But your abilities are far greater than you have any chance to demonstrate here. Not just as a doctor, but as an administrator. I have been making enquiries. I’ve learned, for example, that for six years before you married you had the sole medical responsibility for the children in the Ashley Down orphanage in Bristol – and that you organized a programme of child care and health inspection which prevented many common afflictions from ever showing themselves. The trustees of the orphanage speak of you still with great respect.’
‘You have been making enquiries!’ repeated Margaret incredulously. She had taken his first reference to London as nothing more than a surprising change of subject, but already she sensed that there was more behind it. Lord Glanville’s manner was normally grave, but now he leaned forward with an even more serious expression than usual.
‘I have come to invite you to apply for an appointment,’ he said. ‘I am Governor of a hospital in Westminster. Of course I know very well that my only qualification for the post was my title, but I made it clear when I accepted the offer that I was not prepared to be a figurehead. If I was to take any interest at all, it must be an active interest. You already know how anxious I am to improve the educational possibilities open to women. Now I have the opportunity to combine these two activities. There is a vacancy for a staff doctor. At the same time – it is a teaching hospital – there is a possibility of admitting young women as students. The battle is not yet won, but I am hopeful. I would like to put your name forward to fill the medical vacancy, with the understanding that if you were successful you would also be responsible for supervising the studies of the female students.’
The suggestion came as such a shock to Margaret that she found herself unable to answer – even to express her astonishment.
‘I have to make it clear that you would be used as a standard bearer, so to speak, in the heart of a battle,’ Lord Glanville continued. ‘There would be opposition to your application. It would not be on any personal grounds, but merely fuelled by the realization that your appointment would open a gate which has been locked for too long, and would in the end change the very nature of the hospital. I have to choose for my candidate a woman who is not only well qualified as a doctor, not only mature enough to provide a good example to young women and efficient enough to supervise them, but also stout-hearted enough to listen to criticism which may be hurtful even though it will not be personal.’ He stopped, laughing at himself. ‘Do I sound as though I’m making a speech in the House of Lords? I’m sorry. But finding that such a candidate exists is miracle enough. I wouldn’t like the enterprise to founder through any lack of persuasion on my part. You could do it, Dr Scott. Will you try?’
‘You are asking me to uproot myself, to change my whole way of life.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘I wouldn’t dare to do so if I didn’t believe that it would be in your own interest, giving you a more satisfying occupation. And in the interests of the young women who would be accepted as students, and of the women’s movement in general. But primarily I am speaking for myself, and I would accept the responsibility for the upheaval in your life. You would need to appear at an interview, but any canvassing of the appointments committee would be done by myself. It would naturally be unwise to sell this house or the practice too soon, but if the time came to do so my estate manager could handle the business for you, and I can offer you a house in London. City life is more expensive than country life, but at least you need have no burden of rent. And I should insist that the hospital offered a salary no lower than a man would accept.’
‘I must consider this carefully, Lord Glanville. I imagine you don’t expect an answer at this moment.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s enough to know that you don’t reject it out of hand. Shall we go and see how the young horseman is getting on?’
Margaret found it less easy than her guest to dismiss his extraordinary proposal from her mind, but the subject was not raised again in conversation until he was on the point of departure.
‘You will allow me, I trust, to call again and hear your decision,’ he said. ‘In all my high-falutin’ speeches about the possible benefits to the women’s movements, I forgot to declare my own interest. It would give me great personal pleasure to think that you were coming to live in London, so that we might meet more frequently.’
Was it Margaret’s imagination, or was Lord Glanville for a second time that day squeezing her hand more affectionately than usual? The moment passed too quickly for her to decide, but it gave her a good deal to think about after he had gone. The friendship which had developed between them was one which gave her a great deal of pleasure. Was he now giving her notice that he hoped for something more? His wife’s death was far too recent for him to express any such feeling openly; but it had been so long expected that he would not feel ashamed of dropping an indirect hint.
Margaret tried to criticize herself for the immodesty of her thoughts. An aristocrat, a rich man – how likely was it that he would have more than a casual interest in a country doctor, no longer young? Yet he was no ordinary aristocrat, and Margaret had often enough heard him declare how scornful he felt of the rich women in his own society whose days were devoted to nothing but clothes and the making or retailing of scandals. He was serious by nature, although when he laughed he could lighten the hearts of all who heard him, and Margaret knew that he was sincere in his respect for those women who, like herself, had struggled to improve their standard of education.
Respect was one thing: to wonder about anything more was to move into the realm of dreams. Like a good doctor, Margaret studied her symptoms and admitted to herself that there would be nothing to upset her in the thought of marriage to Lord Glanville. It w
as not by choice that she had enjoyed the company of a husband for such a very short part of her life. As a young girl she had fallen in love with David Gregson, her father’s accountant at Lorimer’s Bank, and could have asked nothing better than to spend the rest of her life with him. The quarrel with which their engagement was broken had been the fault of John Junius Lorimer, not of any lack of love on Margaret’s own part.
A second chance of happiness had excited her when, during her years as a medical student, she first met Charles Scott. Once again obstacles sprang from the dark confusions of the Lorimer family history to separate Margaret for many years from the man she loved: but this time there had seemed to be a happy ending, when at last they were able to marry. Charles’s death only a few months after the wedding was an accident which could not have been foreseen.
So Margaret had twice fallen in love, and twice had been robbed of her lover. But she had had time in each case to recover from her loss. It would be hypocritical to pretend to herself that she would never be capable of loving again.
Equally, she told herself severely, it would be foolish to assume on such slight evidence that she was loved. She was no longer young, and everyone knew that just as young men preferred to marry young women, so also did older men. Fortunately, the difficulties of Margaret’s life had made her adept at disciplining her feelings and her hopes. When, after Robert was in bed, she settled down to consider seriously the proposition Lord Glanville had made, she forced herself to leave any thought of their future relationship out of her calculations, and to make the decision on professional grounds.
The Lorimer Legacy Page 9
