‘I was anxious when I came here, yes, and tired; glad of your friendship and company,’ she said, with what seemed a disproportionate indignation. ‘But comfort was all I asked for. You’re treating me as though all I want is to grab whatever anyone will give me. Do you see me only as someone who can be bought if the bribe is big enough? Am I so selfish that you believe I’d marry you just because you have so much to offer? I won’t allow you to think of me like that. How could I possibly accept such an arrangement?’
‘If you think I regard you as selfish, it’s because you’re looking at what I suggest from a purely selfish point of view.’ With nothing any longer to lose, he allowed his unhappiness full rein. Only once before, in Heidelberg, had he lost his temper with her as he did now. On that occasion she had responded with understanding and sympathy. Now she looked at first startled and then resentful. It was difficult, no doubt, for her to recognize that part of his anger was with himself for his inability to find the right approach to her heart.
‘How can you say such a thing,’ she protested, ‘when I decline an offer which would have so many advantages for myself just because it would bring no good to you?’
‘I can call you selfish because you’re rejecting my proposal without even considering what you might have to offer me. You’re thinking only of what I suggest you might take, and not of what you might give.’
‘That’s not fair, Piers.’ Her flush had deepened at the criticism, but she made no attempt to retreat from the argument. ‘You are the one who is emphasizing what I would gain from being your wife. And what could I give you? You have so much already. Wealth, property, a title, the respect of everyone who knows you. What could I add to all that?’
‘When I die, the respect of which you speak may earn me a kind obituary notice. And all the rest – the title, the money, the land – will be inherited by my brother Duncan, a man whom I dislike and despise; and so, I think, do you. I have more sense than to say that you could give me your love if you tried, because I know that love can’t be forced. But you could give me an heir, Alexa. No one else can.’
‘Why not?’
‘You know the answer to that. Because I can’t look at any other woman while you’re dazzling my eyes. I love you, Alexa. I want you, and I want a son. Your son and mine.’
He had surprised himself enough by losing his temper a moment earlier, but that was nothing to the shock of realizing that he was no longer able to maintain the polite restraint of a gentleman. As he pulled Alexa into his arms for the second time that evening, he was aware that the tight grip of his fingers must be bruising her arms, that the rough pressure of his kiss was forcing her head back until she could hardly breathe. Because he was hurting her, she fought against him, but her struggles only spurred him to imprison her more tightly than before. When at last he released her, he expected her to slap his face or leave the room in anger, but she made no attempt to move away. Instead, as she faced him, she seemed to be panting with the same effort and excitement that he felt himself.
‘I ought to apologize,’ he said when he had brought his feelings under control. ‘But I won’t. Even if you’re going to tell me now that you never want to see me again, it was right for you to know how I feel. You seemed to think that all I was offering was some kind of cold contract.’
‘And so you were,’ she said. ‘You’ve always been so calm, so cool, so protective. You’ve never told me before that you loved me.’
‘But you must have known.’
‘Perhaps,’ she admitted. ‘All the same, I needed to be told. It’s easier to accept a gift of love than an opera house. You’ve done so much for me, Piers. My whole career has been built on your generosity. From the first moment I met you I’ve been carrying a burden of obligation that I’ve never had any chance of repaying. Well, it hasn’t seemed like a burden until now. But when you tried to pile more and more on top – if I’d married you on those terms, how could I have ever made you believe that I felt anything more for you than gratitude?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. He felt emptied now, exhausted by the draining of his emotions. ‘If I seemed to be bribing you – and I have to admit that I was – it was because I couldn’t think of any other way to approach you.’ He sighed at the hopelessness of his position. ‘But I had no right to be angry. Nor to ask so much of you. You couldn’t be expected to give up a brilliant career, even if it was only for a few years, just to have a baby.’
‘Couldn’t I?’ said Alexa. ‘Why don’t you ask me? You were quite right, as a matter of fact, in thinking that I could be bribed. You chose the wrong bribe, that’s all.’
‘Then what’s the right one?’
‘You’ve found it already. I needed something to give you. Now you’ve told me what you want. And I’m ashamed that I didn’t think of it for myself long ago.’
‘I don’t understand,’ he said. That was not quite true. He understood enough to feel an excitement which came near to joy, but it was necessary to restrain it. He had misjudged Alexa’s moods too often and too recently to be sure now that his hopes would prove to be justified.
‘When I was young,’ she said, ‘ – younger even than when you first met me – there was a time when I believed that the most important thing in life was to love and be loved. I wasn’t always hard and flighty. I would have given my love and loyalty for a lifetime if I could have found anyone to accept it. But first of all –’ She hesitated, apparently changing her mind about what she was on the point of saying. ‘Caversham couldn’t afford it. He had to marry an heiress who would shoulder the burden of his estate. And in San Francisco – I would have stayed, you know, even after Frisca’s father was killed, if his family had wanted me. But they didn’t. One grows to expect disappointment. When I sing on the stage I can give the whole of myself to the audience and feel them accepting me, loving me. That’s why I find my work so exciting. In private life it’s never seemed so easy. The best defence against rejection is never to offer anything important.’
‘There was never any possibility that I would have rejected anything you had to offer me. We could have discussed this a long time ago, at the ball.’
‘No,’ said Alexa. ‘You chose the wrong moment then.’
‘And ten minutes ago?’
‘You were asking the wrong question. Offering far too much and demanding far too little. So that was the wrong moment as well.’
‘Then how shall I find the right one?’ He almost laughed aloud for happiness. ‘Am I expected to plunge a skewer into your heart, like one of my cooks testing the centre of a cake to test whether it’s ready to be taken from the oven?’
‘After the Coronation, when I’ve dealt with my own difficulties, that would be the right moment,’ she said.
More gently than before, he took her into his arms and kissed her again. ‘I can’t wait so long,’ he said. ‘And I think you realize already how unnecessary it is to ask me to. There’s no virtue in being proud when you could be generous. Tell me that you’ll marry me. Say it now.’
Her soft acceptance of his kiss was encouraging, but when he allowed her to speak again he was not given the direct answer for which he hoped.
‘There’s something I need to tell you first,’ Alexa said instead. Her hands moved through his hair and pressed his head against her cheek as she hesitated before continuing. ‘About Frisca.’
Lord Glanville stared at her with a bewildered expression.
‘Frisca?’ he queried. ‘She would come here with you, of course. There’s no problem about Frisca.’
‘I was never married to her father,’ Alexa said. ‘I’ve passed myself off as a widow, but that isn’t true. It is true that her father died in the earthquake, and I would have married him if he’d lived, but – well –’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘That’s all.’
‘Why do you tell me this now?’
‘Because I believe that there should be no lies or concealments within a marriage. That proves, I suppose, how different I am
from the women who are born into Society. You’ll have to accept a good many shocks if you marry me, Piers. I’m prepared to study the conventions, but not always to accept them.’
She had made her answer clear enough, but he still needed to be reassured.
‘I was afraid I’d frightened you,’ he said.
‘You’ve been frightening me for years.’ The lightness of her laugh contradicted the words. ‘How could I ever have promised a son to someone who always seemed so detached? At first you treated me almost as a daughter, and afterwards I felt you’d put me on a kind of pedestal. It’s not in my nature to play the part of a goddess. Off the stage, that is. But if you’re prepared to behave like an ordinary man and treat me as an ordinary woman, you shall have your heir. With pleasure.’
‘And yourself?’
‘And myself.’ She had – he realized with delight – none of the prudery of the unmarried daughters of fashionable society. Part of his mistake had lain in not discovering more quickly that she could only be reached through the sincerity of her own affections and her wish to give pleasure. The smile in her eyes showed that he had reached her now. ‘And like you,’ she said, ‘I don’t think I can wait until after the Coronation.’
He was kissing her again, as fervently as before, when the butler made a cautious reappearance and a second silent withdrawal. Alexa noticed the closing door and freed herself laughingly.
‘I suspect,’ she said, ‘that dinner is served. And if one thing is absolutely clear, it’s that I mustn’t start my reign as mistress of Blaize by alienating the cook.’
Taking his hand, she turned to lead the way towards the dining room, but Lord Glanville held her back. He took time to consider what he wanted to say. As Alexa herself had pointed out a moment earlier, she had not been born into Society. But she had had opportunity enough to observe its members and perhaps to adopt some of their insincerities. The daughters of the British aristocracy were expected to behave impeccably. Their mothers guarded them with fierce attention, their fathers were quick to punish any breach of the conventions, and even the most notorious rakes accepted the fact that while a married woman was fair game, a young debutante must be left to enjoy her innocence until she married. But these same virtuous young women, once they had snared their title and provided an heir to it, behaved with a freedom which came close to promiscuity. Lord Glanville could hardly tell Alexa in so many words that he loved her far too deeply ever to be a complaisant husband. But the thought, however indirectly, must be expressed.
‘Frisca’s father is dead, you tell me,’ he said. ‘And Caversham is married. But what about the other one? The young man with the thick fair hair. Matthew Lorimer, I believe his name was.’
Alexa was silent for a moment. Then she looked him straight in the eyes, and the honesty he saw there made her words unnecessary.
‘I loved him once,’ she said. ‘But that was a long time ago. I haven’t seen him since the night of the ball here at Blaize. I shall never see him again. I shall never even think of him again. It’s finished. You don’t need to worry about Matthew.’
4
A family which traces its descent from the Norman Conquest hardly needs to acquire other ancestors by marriage. Nevertheless, when Margaret arrived at Blaize for a visit on New Year’s Day of 1913, she took with her the portrait of John Junius Lorimer. One of Lord Glanville’s footmen carried it into the house and leaned it against a wall to await his mistress’s orders.
Margaret sent Robert off at once to look for his little cousin. Frisca had become part of the household at Blaize as soon as her mother married Lord Glanville, but she looked forward impatiently to every visit from the young man who had been a big brother to her during her babyhood. Margaret herself followed the portrait into the drawing room. She found Alexa lying decoratively on a day-bed, and guessed the reason at once. The little girl born to the Glanvilles nine months after their marriage had died only three days later, and a second pregnancy had ended in miscarriage. It was clear that in this third attempt Alexa was determined to take no chances.
‘How beautiful you look?’ Margaret exclaimed as she kissed her hostess. ‘And how well!’
‘You disappoint me,’ laughed Alexa. ‘I’m doing my best to act the part of an invalid. But of course I’m perfectly healthy – with nothing to do all day except look languid and think beautiful thoughts. Piers is being very stern with me. He won’t even let me walk as far as the river to see how my little theatre is getting on. I’m sure that by the time this baby appears I shall have lost the use of my legs altogether. I try to persuade Piers that some exercise must surely be necessary, but he’s quite adamant that I’m to be pampered. So here I lie, seething with suppressed restlessness.’
‘I can see it means a great deal to him.’ From the day of their first meeting Margaret had known how passionately Lord Glanville longed for a son.
‘And no less to me, I assure you,’ said Alexa. ‘How can I feel that I’ve earned all this luxury until there’s an Honourable little boy in the nursery? I distinctly promised Piers an heir – and besides, I have an unladylike desire to spite Duncan, who must be gnawing his fingernails at the prospect of the estate he’d reckoned on suddenly slipping away from him. When little Lucy died, and I was so distraught, I quite seriously found myself wondering whether Duncan had been sticking pins into a wax image of her.’
‘You dismissed the thought, I hope.’
‘Oh yes. A girl would have been no great obstacle to his hopes. Piers could have provided for her well enough out of his private fortune, but the land is entailed in the male line and will go with the title. All the same –’ Alexa looked at Margaret almost shyly, as if wondering whether it would be foolish to confess whatever thought was troubling her. ‘All the same, I did find myself overcome on that occasion by another superstition. I know it was foolish; but the death upset me, of course, and I suppose I was looking for something to blame.’
‘What superstition was that?’ Margaret asked.
‘You remember the Lorimer rubies?’
‘Am I likely ever to forget them?’ Margaret frowned at the memory, and Alexa was quick to take her up.
‘Yes, you were superstitious about them once yourself,’ she said. ‘I remember that you asked me not to wear them to the Opera Ball in San Francisco. They had brought bad luck on every appearance you told me. I mocked you a little, because you’ve always been so sensible and practical: it seemed out of character that you should be nervous about an object which couldn’t possibly affect the course of events. And I made a joke of it again when the earthquake came, as though merely to take a few jewels out of their case for a moment could destroy a city. But then they really did become evil, didn’t they? They killed Frank. And although you’ve always been too considerate to say so, I know that they ruined your own friendship with his father.’
‘What had all this to do with Lucy?’ asked Margaret.
‘As you know, I’m not at all superstitious by nature,’ said Alexa. ‘I believe that everything that happens can be explained in a rational manner by a real cause. And yet the history of the rubies – so much ill-fortune in such a short time – did make me uneasy: and then I became ashamed of myself for it. So on the day after Lucy was born I asked Piers to bring the jewel case to my bed. What harm could it possibly bring to an innocent newborn baby? I showed the jewels to Piers. I knew that he had a strong-box full of Glanville jewellery, waiting to adorn his daughter or his son’s wife. But I wanted Lucy to have just one heirloom from her mother’s family as well. The Lorimer legacy. I put the jewels at the foot of her cradle for a moment, and then Piers took them away. Within forty-eight hours she was dead.’
‘She was dying already!’ exclaimed Margaret, appalled at the implications of what Alexa was saying. ‘Nobody dared to tell you while you were still so weak from the birth. But from the moment she was born, the imperfection in her body made it inevitable that she couldn’t survive. She wasn’t able to feed herself, or be fed. Th
e rubies could have had nothing at all to do with that. Nothing whatever.’
‘I know that, of course,’ agreed Alexa. ‘That is to say, I accept it with my reason. But at the time, when I was distressed and angry, it was tempting to look for an explanation and find it in some kind of malevolent fortune. The curse of the Lorimers, I exclaimed to myself, remembering how you told me once that your father – our father – could be said to have stolen the jewels from his creditors. So, although I still won’t admit to being superstitious, let me put it a different way. The rubies have been associated with too many disasters for me ever again to take pleasure in wearing them. The accumulation of coincidences is too high. So before this pregnancy started I sent them away to be kept in the strongroom of a bank – and not even my own bank, since it seemed all too likely that the unfortunate repository would be blown up or burgled or bankrupted.’ She smiled, as though to show Margaret that she was joking, but her eyes were serious. ‘They are to stay there for the rest of my life. Unless the time should ever come when I feel that I’ve lived long enough. Then I shall send for them, and adorn myself with them, and sit back to see what happens.’
‘You’re very foolish and very wise, my dear.’ Margaret bent to kiss her again. ‘Wise, not because of any damage the rubies could cause, but because it’s important that you should be completely calm and untroubled until this new baby is born.’
‘Now that we’ve talked away the family curse, you see in me the very model of calmness. The rubies aren’t of the least importance, and my child will inherit a quite different kind of legacy from the Lorimers.’
‘What’s that?’
‘You,’ said Alexa. She put out a hand, drawing Margaret closer so that she could be kissed again. ‘Often and often I’ve tried to imagine what my life would have been like if it hadn’t been for you, and the picture terrifies me every time. I know what a burden it must have been for you to accept responsibility for me, and how much of your independence you had to sacrifice for it. And the only claim I had on you was that my father was John Junius Lorimer.’
The Lorimer Legacy Page 33
