She had to remind herself continually that this was Phoebe’s baby. One day, Phoebe would come back and take her daughter home – wherever home might be.
Celia did her best to make sure everyone in Charton knew Daisy wasn’t Rose’s child. But people preferred to think the baby was a Courtenay bastard, for this was too delicious a piece of scandal for anyone to ignore.
When Rose was in the sluice room one December morning, she overheard some cleaning women gossiping and laughing. ‘I don’t care what that Miss Easton reckons,’ said the first. ‘It’ll most likely be my lady’s and some officer’s.’
‘Most probably ’e’ll be a married man,’ put in a second woman.
‘That Miss Easton ain’t no better than she should be.’ The first cleaning woman snorted. ‘These nobs, they covers up for one another, always has done, always will. You mark my words. If that nipper ain’t Miss Courtenay’s little indiscretion, I’m a Chinaman.’
‘It’s terrible about her ladyship.’ The second cleaner sighed. ‘Polly said they was at each other’s throats before she dropped down dead. But when Miss Courtenay was a little girl, she was the apple of her mother’s eye.’
‘It’s strange, how these rich women turn out bad. Do you remember Mrs Denham? She was a flighty piece. She took up with that artist chap, an’ then when he got sick of her she came back ’ome to Dorset bold as brass, and brought her little boy. She expected poor old Mr Denham–’
Rose had heard enough. She swept out of the sluice, favoured the cleaners with a frosty stare, and asked if they had any work to do.
They scuttled off, but not without a parting shot. ‘Some people seems to think they’re better than the rest of us,’ came floating down the corridor towards her, ‘but I dunno ’ow they got the nerve.’
The situation soon became intolerable for Rose. As the gossip spread, as the story grew more lurid and sensational, even the convalescing officers smirked and nudged and murmured. Gentlemen or not, they gave Rose sly and knowing looks.
Sir Gerard was the only person who could put an end to it, so when she came off shift one evening Rose went over to the Dower House.
‘I’m very sorry, miss.’ Polly looked embarrassed and upset. ‘Sir Gerard says he’s not at home to you.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Polly!’ Rose walked past the maid into the hallway. ‘I’m not a casual caller, I’m his daughter.’
‘Please, Miss Courtenay, don’t go in!’ Polly was almost crying. ‘Sir Gerard said you weren’t to come–’
‘What’s going on out here?’ Sir Gerard came out of his smoking room. He scowled at Rose. ‘What do you want? Polly, I thought I said–’
‘It’s not Polly’s fault.’ Although her father looked so angry that she feared he might quite literally throw her out, Rose faced up to him. ‘I need to speak to you. It won’t take very long.’
Sir Gerard looked from his daughter to his maid. ‘Oh, very well,’ he muttered. ‘Polly, get on with your work. Rose, come in the sitting room. Shut the door behind you. You may have five minutes. What do you wish to say?’
‘Just this – the child is not mine.’
‘You expect me to believe you?’ Sir Gerard’s tone was mildness itself, but his eyes bulged dangerously, and Rose kept her distance. ‘I have been on the Bench for thirty years, but you are the most impudent, bare-faced liar I have ever met. How you came to be my child, I shall never–’
‘Daddy, you saw me!’ interrupted Rose. ‘I was living here, for heaven’s sake! I can’t believe you wouldn’t have noticed if I had been carrying a child!’
‘There are ways and means,’ Sir Gerard muttered. ‘I’ve heard of several cases where women of a certain class–’
‘I give you my word.’
‘You word is worth nothing.’
‘Then how can I convince you?’
‘You must convince a doctor first.’ Sir Gerard looked down at his feet. ‘If you wish to clear your name, make an appointment to see Dr Weldon.’
‘You mean, let him examine me?’
Sir Gerard shrugged, then stared out of the window. ‘Rose, you sought this interview – not I.’
For a few moments, Rose considered what Sir Gerard had said. He had a point, she realised – she could prove she wasn’t lying, could become her father’s child once more. She could prove she was an honest woman, as people used to say…
But then she found she couldn’t – wouldn’t – do it. ‘I will not be examined by a doctor,’ she told Sir Gerard, knowing her face must be on fire. ‘If my own father chooses to believe the lies the local scandalmongers tell about his daughter, then so be it.’
‘I have no daughter,’ said Sir Gerard. Then he looked at the clock. ‘I said five minutes, so it’s time for you to leave.’
Rose walked out of the house. She strode along the path towards the Minster, and by the time she reached it she was breathing hard. She met the matron in the hall, and followed her into her office. ‘I wish to go to France,’ she said.
Jessie Mason looked at Rose and sighed. ‘I know some people make it hard for you,’ she murmured sympathetically. ‘I know you’ve had some problems–’
‘I’m sorry Matron, but the situation here’s intolerable!’ Rose choked back the tears that were welling up behind her eyes. ‘Please, do this for me?’
‘I’ll make enquiries,’ promised Jessie Mason. ‘But Miss Courtenay, are you sure you wish to leave? Your father’s had a dreadful shock. So won’t he need to know his daughter’s here, to help him cope?’
‘He says he has no daughter,’ Rose replied.
‘A hospital for other ranks,’ said Jessie Mason, four days later. ‘It’s mostly surgical, but some men have been gassed – not very pleasant. It sounds like quite hard work, as well. There are about three hundred men but only fifteen nurses, most of them volunteers.’
‘I’ll go,’ said Rose.
‘Do you feel fit enough? Miss Courtenay, you’re still grieving. I’m sure your father needs you, whatever he may say.’
‘I’ll go to France,’ insisted Rose.
‘Miss Dennison, Miss Courtenay and Miss Troy!’ intoned the station master, through his megaphone. ‘Please join your party at the end of Platform 3!’
‘Miss Courtenay?’ Alex swallowed the last mouthful of bitter Red Cross coffee. He pushed his plate of greasy eggs away. ‘Excuse me, David,’ he muttered to Lieutenant Richardson, with whom he’d come to Rouen. ‘I dare say you could find your own way back? There’s someone I must see.’
It would not be Rose, he thought, as he pushed his way through all the crowds. There were hundreds of Miss Courtenays in England. There were probably a fair few of them in France.
He saw a gaggle of nurses at the far end of the station concourse and strode up to them. ‘I beg your pardon, Sister.’ He smiled politely at a middle-aged woman, who glared back at him. ‘I’m sorry, could you let me through?’
Then at last he saw her, and knew there must be a God. ‘Rose!’ he shouted, waving.
She turned and stared at him. ‘L-lieutenant Denham?’ she said, frowning.
‘He’s a captain, idiot!’ hissed another nurse, whose dark eyes twinkled as she grinned at him. ‘Look, he’s got three pips.’
Rose quelled her with a look. ‘It’s nice to see you’re better, Captain Denham,’ she said crisply. ‘But how did you know I would be in Rouen?’
‘I didn’t know,’ said Alex. ‘I had a forty-eight hour pass, and I came here with another chap from my battalion. We’re waiting for the train back to our sector. But then I heard the station master call you. Rose, I want to say–’
‘Come over here,’ she interrupted testily, and walked off down the platform. Alex followed her, and soon they were out of sight of all the nurses.
She stopped between two empty trains and then turned round to face him. ‘Well?’ she said.
‘I owe you an apology,’ said Alex.
‘What do you mean?’ frowned Rose.
‘When I was in hospital, and you were so kind to me, I know that I annoyed you. When I said I couldn’t bath myself that time, and I deliberately embarrassed you – I don’t know why I did it, but I’m sorry. My behaviour was disgusting, and–’
‘You think your behaviour was disgusting?’ Rose laughed mirthlessly. ‘Captain Denham, you don’t know the meaning of the word.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Rose!’
‘I ought not to tell you, but – what difference does it make? Men like him do as they please. If other people suffer, they don’t care. Your dear friend and mine, your brother officer Lieutenant Easton – he asked me to marry him, you know.’
‘I didn’t know.’
‘Of course, he wants my father’s money. I’m well aware of that. But after he asked me to be his wife, he was still chasing other women. Poor little Phoebe, she’s the sort of girl who probably thinks she knows it all. But really she knows nothing. She’d trust a perfect stranger with her last half crown. She trusted Michael Easton, and he left her helpless and afraid.’
Rose’s voice was shrill and rising, and her face was flushed. ‘How could he?’ she demanded. ‘How could he use her and abuse her, how could he just walk away and leave her? How–’
‘Rose, calm down,’ said Alex. ‘Please, don’t get so upset.’
‘Why shouldn’t I be upset?’ Rose glared at him. ‘You men, you’re all the same! Everyone in Dorset knows you got poor Mrs Denham pregnant long before you married her, so how did you entice her into bed? By saying that if she’d let you sleep with her, she’d get a diamond ring?’
‘You’ve said enough,’ scowled Alex.
‘I’ve hardly even started! What were you doing with Charlotte Stokeley on the cliff top, when you were in Dorset recently?’
‘I – what do you mean?’ Alex was genuinely astonished. ‘Rose, the girl attached herself to me. Whenever I’m in Dorset, she comes hanging round the house. I can’t avoid her, she–’
‘She isn’t one of your many women, then?’
‘God, Rose, she’s a child! You’re being quite ridiculous.’
‘I don’t think so. I–’
‘This is a pointless conversation.’ Alex turned on his heel to walk away. ‘Well, goodbye, Rose.’
‘You come back here and listen to me!’ Rose caught him by the sleeve and spun him round, then carried on berating him.
Alex didn’t know how to stop her ranting. If she’d been a man he would have hit her, knocked her down. So should he slap her hard, to bring her to her senses before she had a fit and fell down foaming at the mouth?
But he couldn’t bring himself to slap her, so he put his hands upon her shoulders, drew her to him – then he kissed her fiercely on the lips.
She struggled for a moment, and he thought she’d break away. She’d scream for the police, and he’d be a lieutenant or cashiered or in a military prison before the day was done.
But she didn’t scream. She gradually stopped struggling, although she was still tense. Finally, however, she relaxed.
He kissed her very lingeringly and very gently this time, tasting her and opening her reluctant mouth with his. He held her very close to him, feeling the lovely warmth of her and breathing her delicious scent, and kissing her again, again, again.
Chapter Eleven
The sudden striking of the station clock brought Rose back to reality.
‘Why did you do that?’ she cried, horrified by what she’d done herself, and furiously pushing him away.
‘I don’t know.’ Alex shrugged, but Rose could see his eyes were black and burning. ‘Actually, I do,’ he said. ‘It was because I had to kiss you, or lie down and die.’
‘You do talk nonsense.’
‘It’s not nonsense, Rose. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I was fourteen.’
‘Then why didn’t you?’
‘You’d have slapped my face! Your father would have had me branded, put me in the stocks. Everyone in Dorset knows you’re going to marry Michael Easton, although I didn’t know he had proposed until today.’
‘You think I want to marry him?’
‘I suppose you do.’ Alex shrugged again. ‘I know you like him, and he certainly likes you.’
‘You take too much for granted, Captain Denham. No power on earth would make me marry Michael.’
‘What?’ A sudden smile lit Alex’s face. ‘Rose, what do you mean?’
‘I don’t mean anything.’ Rose stared down at her feet. ‘I know what they think of me in Dorset. But I’m not a whore. I don’t steal other women’s men.’
‘I never said you did.’ As Rose began to hurry along the platform, Alex caught her arm. ‘You say I take too much for granted,’ he continued urgently. ‘Well, perhaps I do. But when I kissed you, it was plain you liked it.’
‘I must go, and you must never talk like this again.’
‘You don’t mean that.’ Alex’s fingers bit into her flesh, and Rose knew she couldn’t get away. He’d let her scream the station down before he let her go.
‘Listen, Rose,’ he went on feverishly. ‘There isn’t time to court you. In a different place and in a different situation, I’d have bought you flowers, I’d have watched you flirt with other men and waste my time. But we don’t have time.’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘I want you,’ he replied. ‘I want you so much it hurts. I’ve never felt such pain.’
She thought of slapping him, of screaming, of all the other options open to outraged virginity. But she also knew she must be honest, or she would hate herself.
‘Alex, I know it hurts,’ she whispered sadly, ‘because it hurts me, too.’
‘Miss Courtenay!’ cried a strident voice, and Rose looked to see two nurses sprinting down the platform.
‘There you are at last!’ exclaimed Miss Troy, a fierce-looking spinster who wore two hectic spots of rouge high on her bony cheekbones. ‘Miss Dennison and I have been distraught! It’s ten past four, and time we’re entrained.’ They took Rose into custody, and then began to frogmarch her away.
‘I’m going to Auchonville!’ Rose looked back at Alex, and the smile he gave her made her feel like dancing. ‘To the hospital for other ranks. I don’t know the address, but write to me!’
‘Of course I’ll write!’ Recovering from his surprise, Alex started running and soon caught up with them. As he drew level, he leaned across Miss Dennison to kiss Rose on the cheek. Then he ran on, leaving them behind.
‘What a strange young man,’ said Elsie Dennison.
‘I dare say he’s been drinking,’ said Miss Troy.
‘When could you get some leave?’ he wrote, after he had said he longed to see her, that being away from her was torture. ‘I’m due a week or more, but I don’t think I’m going to get it. My CO has jaundice, half the other officers are sick, and all the men have coughs and colds. I’m very healthy, but this means I’m doing all the work.’
‘I’m not due any leave at all,’ Rose wrote despondently. ‘I haven’t been here long enough. But we’re not very busy, and in an emergency we’re allowed a twenty-four hour pass. I could say it was a family matter.’
‘I’ll come by rail to Belancourt,’ wrote Alex. ‘Then I’ll walk to Auchonville. If I promise to find a case or two of decent brandy, I expect they’ll let me have three days.’
A part of Rose was almost willing fate to stop her meeting Alex, but a transparent fib about a cousin in hospital in Tournonville secured the precious twenty-four hour pass. A promise to work two of Elsie’s shifts for one of hers ensured she wouldn’t be missed if she was late the following day.
She almost hoped he wouldn’t come, but she found him waiting for her in the market place at Auchonville, and to her astonishment he was sitting in a car.
‘Where did you get that?’ she cried, amazed.
‘It’s my CO’s,’ said Alex, grinning. ‘He has an arrangement with a woman in
Harfoix, she keeps it in her garage. I promised Malcolm that if he’d lend me this old bus today, I’d bring back half a dozen crates of Armagnac tomorrow.’
They drove out of the town, and soon were in the leafless but as yet undamaged countryside of pretty little villages and ancient Norman churches. Before they’d gone five miles, however, Rose touched Alex’s sleeve.
‘Stop the car,’ she said.
He brought the vehicle to a shuddering halt. ‘I didn’t mean to take that bend so fast,’ he said, and grinned a wry apology. ‘Sorry if I shook you up a bit. Do you feel sick?’
‘It’s not your driving.’ Rose looked down at her hands. ‘Alex, this is wrong. You have a wife.’
‘But I don’t love her, and she doesn’t love me.’
‘How do you know she doesn’t love you?’
‘Last September, when I was in Dorset convalescing, she didn’t come and see me. She was staying with her aunt, and said she couldn’t get away. She only writes to me when she wants money, but I don’t know what she does with it. Henry gives her an allowance, and she gets half my pay.’
‘I see.’ Rose looked at him. ‘Everyone in Dorset thinks I’m wicked, cruel, ungrateful. I’m a liar, as well. Alex, do you want to kiss a liar?’
‘More than anything in all the world.’
The proprietor of the small hotel, which was tucked away along a back street in the little town of Richelcourt, glowered morosely at the woman and the British officer.
Rose didn’t care. He was old, she told herself, he’d seen it all before, he wasn’t going to judge. When Alex asked him for a room, he muttered an enormous sum in francs, and then produced a tarnished key.
Alex locked the bedroom door behind them, then took Rose in his arms. She didn’t know what to do. Familiarity with young men’s bodies hadn’t taught her how to be a lover, and she was as innocent of passion as she’d been when she was still a child.
Alex kissed her hairline, and she shuddered. Then he pushed her cloak back from her shoulders, and she froze. ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured, soothingly. ‘We won’t do anything you don’t want to do. There’s no need to be frightened.’
The Silver Locket (Choc Lit) Page 13
