The Hawthorne Heritage

by The Hawthorne Heritage (retail) (epub)

  Laughing, Jessica nodded, satisfying the other girl’s artless curiosity, ‘You’ve just met another.’

  ‘Oh, how splendid!’ Annabel clapped her hands like a child. ‘We must see more of each other! The wind has ordained it! It blew my hat right into Robert’s hand, just so that we should meet! Now – to start right away – why don’t we go to that wonderful little cafe on the Baumstrasse – have you discovered it yet? – and have some of that perfectly wicked kasetorte and a cup of chocolate? I vow—’ she added confidentially into Jessica’sear, slipping her hand into the crook of her arm, ‘—that I am becoming quite addicted to the wretched stuff!’

  And that was the beginning. Within a day the two young couples had become inseparable; strolling together, shopping together, taking their meals together. It came as some mild surprise to Jessica that vivacious Annabel seemed eager to be her friend. ‘David’s such a dear, and I do adore him so – but oh, how I miss my sisters and my friends! Do you not?’ Perhaps fortunately giving Jessica no opportunity to reply she chattered on. ‘—Men are quite wonderful creatures, I know, and I would never dispute it, but truly even the best of them can sometimes be so deadly dull, don’t you think? My mama says it’s because they have never learned the art of gossip—’ she giggled happily ‘—and do you know I believe that she’s right? Oh, how I’ve missed my dear gossips!’

  During the days that followed she certainly, and to Jessica’s amusement, made up for their lack. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone talk so much!’ she said, ruefully to Robert one night as they prepared for bed. As was their invariable custom she was undressing in the bedroom, whilst Robert used the dressing room that adjoined, though the door stood open between them. ‘Yet she’s so charming – I just can’t help liking her.’ She buttoned her nightgown to her throat and climbed into the huge bed, burrowing comfortably into the feather mattress.

  Robert, somehow managing to look more dapper in his striped nightshirt than most men appeared in full dress, came to the doorway, smiling. ‘Me too. She ought to be tiresome, but somehow she isn’t.’ He moved about the room, turning out the lamps one by one, and lighting the night candle that stood upon the table. In its uncertain light Jessica saw him cross the room and slip with no sound and barely any disturbance into his side of the bed.

  She turned her head, looking at him. ‘Good night.’

  He lifted himself upon one elbow, leaned to her. She felt the soft, cool brush of his lips on her forehead. ‘Good night. Sleep well.’ He made to turn from her. This was the pattern of their nights. He slept, still and quiet as death, with his back to her on the far side of the bed, never moving, never touching her. On impulse now as he drew back she slipped her hand into his and brought it very softly to her lips in the darkness. ‘Thank you, Robert.’

  The hand rested in hers for a quiet moment, then was gently removed. ‘For what?’ The words were as gentle and as careful as the movement.

  ‘Oh – I don’t know. Just thank you.’ Restless, she tossed on her side, then turned on her back again. Her eyes were used now to the gloom and the night candle cast dark, steady shadows upon the ceiling. She could see a rabbit with rather short ears, and a castle with a dragon flying towards it. She closed her eyes, opened them again. They simply refused to stay shut. She studied the shadows again. The rabbit was not a rabbit. It was a camel with two big humps. ‘Robert—?’ she whispered, quietly, ‘—are you asleep?’

  He did not reply. As always his breathing was deep, even and peaceful. Yet, oddly, she was certain that he too was awake. She resisted the sudden urge to shake him. The floorboards of the room above creaked. David and Annabel were preparing for bed.

  Jessica shut her eyes, tried to wipe her brain free of thought.

  Something thumped on the ceiling. Jessica could almost hear Annabel’s irrepressible giggle. The guesthouse was old, and soundly built, but yet noise travelled, particularly down through the floorboards. ‘You have the room beneath us, don’t you?’ Annabel had asked, amused and confidential over their kasetorte that afternoon whilst the young men had been deep in discussion of Mr Windham Saddler’s feat of crossing the St George’s Channel in a balloon. ‘Thank goodness for that, anyway!’ She spluttered with shameless laughter, ducking her head and covering her mouth with her small hand, mischief in her eyes. ‘At least I don’t suppose we disturb you – I mean—’ she stopped.

  Jessica looked down into the creamy froth of her chocolate. ‘Disturb us?’

  Annabel suddenly blushed a fiery red. ‘Don’t tease, Jessica! You know what I mean!’ She exploded again into laughter. ‘That wretched bed squeaks like an ungreased cartwheel!’

  Jessica smiled woodenly. Annabel, convulsed at her own daring and with a wary eye on her more conventional spouse, had leaned forward and pitched her voice for her friend’s ear alone, ‘I don’t think it will ever be a problem for anyone else – David says the hotel’s likely to need a new bed by the time we’re finished with that one—!’

  Jessica now, alone beside her apparently sleeping husband, determinedly closed her eyes again. They had today visited the Augarten, an elaborate public pleasure garden that had been laid out by the Emperor Joseph II in 1775 and that Robert had said was much like the gardens of Vauxhall in London—

  Silence now, broken only by Robert’s quiet breathing. She relaxed a little, then tensed again. Above her head it had started, as she had known it would, and had prayed it would not; faintly at first, the very echo of movement, delicate, rhythmic, horribly and shamingly disturbing.

  Robert did not stir.

  Grimly she forced her eyes shut, turning her mind back to the gardens, to the peace and the birdsong as they had walked beneath the linden trees that had spread their green canopy between them and the brilliance of the sky—

  ‘—honestly!’ Annabel had giggled as they had strolled in the dappled shade ‘—aren’t men beasts really? David simply cannot resist – well, you know! I must look an absolute wreck! I’m getting absolutely no sleep!’

  She did not look a wreck. In fact she looked radiant, and she must have known it. What she did not know was the humiliating depths of Jessica’s ignorance.

  The noises from the room above were stronger, more urgent. Jessica slipped her hands carefully from beneath the covers and pushed her fingers into her ears, as she had done as a child when she had wished to cut herself off from a disagreeable world. Yet through the booming rush of sound it produced in her head she felt it, felt the ruthless, rhythmic energy that seemed to pulse through her with her blood. There was a strange heat in her body. She clenched her fists and lay as rigid as death, staring into darkness as she listened to the sounds of their lovemaking.

  It seemed an age before the noise stopped, leaving in its wake an unquiet silence that rang with echoes. Jessica lay quite still, the terrible and somehow obscurely shameful excitement that those sounds produced in her, night after night, raging at the very core of her body, burning in some part of her that she had barely known existed. Her breathing was quick and shallow, as if she had run a distance, and her heart pounded. With enormous effort she relaxed, filling her lungs slowly and carefully. Upstairs someone walked across the floor and clearly she heard Annabel’s murmuring voice, sleepy and tender.

  With an abrupt movement Jessica turned on her side and buried her head beneath the feather counterpane.

  Robert breathed gently on.

  * * *

  The next day she surprised Robert at breakfast by asking, more brusquely than she had intended, ‘Don’t you think it’s time we started to think about moving on? We’ve still a fair way to travel.’

  He glanced in mild astonishment from his engrossed study of a month-old English newspaper left by some previous traveller. ‘Leave Vienna? But I thought you liked it here?’

  ‘I did – do—’ she corrected herself hastily. ‘It’s just – as I say – we still have a long way to go. We can’t afford to stop here much longer, can we, if we’re to get to Florence bef
ore the real heat starts?’

  ‘Oh, there’s plenty of time.’ His eyes had drifted back to the paper. ‘David and I were talking about it yesterday. He agreed that if we leave next week we can stop in Venice for a couple of days and still make Florence by mid-July.’

  She looked at him, frowning a little. ‘We?’ she asked, carefully.

  He nodded, turning a page. ‘Didn’t you know? They’re heading for Florence as well – only staying for a couple of weeks, but we thought it would make the journey more agreeable if we travelled together.’

  The sudden, convulsive grip of her fingers upon the handle of her teacup spilled some of the hot liquid into the saucer. ‘You didn’t mention it to me.’

  ‘I didn’t think it necessary. You like them, don’t you?’ His voice was faintly and reasonably surprised, ‘I thought that you and Annabel got on so well? It must surely be pleasant for you to have female companionship?’

  ‘Yes – yes, of course – it’s just—’ she stopped.

  For the first time he lifted his head and looked directly at her, his brows drawn to a dark, puzzled line. ‘What? Jessica – is something wrong?’

  Miserably she shook her head.

  ‘Don’t you like Annabel? Has she done something to upset you?’ He was truly concerned.

  ‘No – no! Of course not! I suppose – I was just looking forward to being on our own again.’ Even in her own ears that sounded lame.

  He laughed a little. ‘We’ve got the rest of our lives for that.’

  She swallowed. The tea slopped in her saucer again.

  ‘Good Lord, what a mess you’ve made!’ Robert laughed good-naturedly, ‘I’ll call the waiter. You need a clean cup—’

  * * *

  The day was warm, close and thundery. They lunched, the four of them as always, at an open-air cafe in the park, served by waiters and waitresses in Tyrolean national costume that the unrepentantly amused Annabel said made them look like the clockwork dolls they had seen in the tourist shops. ‘David, darling, you really must buy a pair of those little leather trousers before we leave. They’ll show off your wonderful legs to perfection! And one of those dinky green hats! Good Lord, they do look like – what are those little Irish fairies called?’

  David smiled indulgently, though the irreverent mention of his legs had brought a slight blush of colour to his fair skin. ‘Leprechauns, I think.’

  ‘Of course.’ Annabel fanned herself vigorously. ‘My goodness, it’s hot! Why don’t we go to the ramparts? It’s bound to be cooler there.’

  They strolled, as they habitually did, with the two girls in front, Annabel’s small hand tucked firmly into Jessica’s crooked arm, the young men behind. Jessica could hear their voices, deep and pleasant, in idle conversation.

  ‘—so why Florence?’ David was asking, ‘I don’t pretend to be any kind of expert – far from it – but it’s hardly the centre of the musical world, is it? Why not Venice? Or Rome?’

  ‘Jessica particularly wanted to go to Florence. And it happens that there’s a teacher there with whom I should like to study. Signor Donatti – Pietro Donatti. He was one of Rossini’s tutors at Bologna. He retired a couple of years ago, to Florence, where he was born. He only takes a few pupils – mostly English—’

  ‘Oh? Why’s that?’

  Robert laughed, quietly and self-deprecatingly. ‘Signor Donatti has a passion of his own. English Literature. Which just happens to be what I studied at Oxford – so he didn’t enquire too deeply into my musical accomplishments—’

  ‘Jessica, I declare! You aren’t listening to a word I say!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Jessica smiled at the mildly indignant Annabel, who smiled swiftly back and leaned her head conspiratorily close.

  ‘I wanted to ask you something.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Annabel nodded, her face suddenly solemn. ‘It’s very – personal. I hope you won’t be offended?’

  Jessica laughed, intrigued. ‘I shouldn’t think so.’

  ‘It’s—’ Annabel fiddled self-consciously with the lace trimmings at the shoulder of Jessica’s dress. ‘It’s not something that a lady is supposed to talk about – but – I am most abysmally ignorant of such things and I just thought that you might be able to help me—?’

  ‘If I can.’ Jessica was astounded. What in the world could this gay and confident creature not know that she, Jessica, might?

  ‘It’s—’ Clearly the other girl was uncomfortable. She glanced over her shoulder to where David and Robert followed, deep in, their own conversation. ‘I just wondered – oh, dear, I really don’t know how to say it!’

  Jessica waited.

  ‘You and Robert—’ Annabel began afresh, ‘you’ve been travelling for some months?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you mean to stay in Florence for some considerable time?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So—’ Delicately she picked at the lace again, ‘You aren’t – anxious to start a family yet?’ The last words came out in a self-conscious rush.

  Jessica could not have been more taken aback had the other girl grown fangs and bitten her. ‘Er – no,’ she said. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘I just wondered if you knew – that is, just before I came away a friend told me there were ways – you know – to prevent—’ she mumbled to a stop, and then, as if finally impatient with her own embarrassment, lifted her face and looked Jessica full in the eye, ‘—to prevent conception,’ she said, clearly and softly. ‘I’m afraid of becoming pregnant whilst we’re travelling. Two of my cousins died in childbirth, you see, and the thought frightens me no matter how hard I try. Why – just before we left England poor Princess Charlotte died – and she was the king’s favourite daughter! If it could happen to her—’ She sucked in her lip. ‘Well – out here – anything could happen, couldn’t it? Even if we tried to get home – well, who knows what that might bring on? Mama had three miscarriages in two years, and she travelled no further than Richmond! I attempted to speak with her about it before we left home – oh, Lord above, you just should have seen her face—!’ Despite her embarrassment the merriment that always seemed to hover just below the surface broke through and glimmered in her eyes, ‘—and all she would say was that if I were lucky – lucky, mind! – David would be gentleman enough to abstain from the “animal desires” that might – well, you know – cause such a thing to happen. As if poor David were the only one to have anything to do with it! I didn’t know then what monstrous rubbish she was talking, of course – I wasn’t yet married, and didn’t understand. But I declare she spoke of the thing as something to be avoided or endured, like toothache or the ague! It truly frightened me at the time – but then – David, dear David showed me differently—’ her eyes softened and she squeezed Jessica’s arm hard, ‘Oh, Jessica, is it not marvellous to be loved? Did you know – could you guess – that it would be such a wonder?’

  Dumbly Jessica shook her head.

  ‘I know it’s considered unladylike – though why it should be I really can’t imagine, for after all here we all are, and we all came by the same road, did we not? Why should it be right for men to find pleasure in the act and not women? Whoever started the nonsense that it is only the men who enjoy it?’ The spark of mischief was back in her face, that died a little at recollection of her dilemma. ‘But, oh Jessica, it’s the women who have the babies, and I’m frightened of that. Aren’t you?’

  ‘I – haven’t actually thought about it.’

  The other girl’s eyes widened. ‘You mean that? It truly doesn’t worry you? The thought of it happening far from home – far from your family—?’

  Jessica shook her head. Desperately she prayed for an interruption to this uncomfortable conversation. In the sultry air she felt a runnel of sweat trickle unpleasantly down her back.

  Annabel’s mouth had dropped a little in disappointment. ‘So – you don’t know of anything? Anything to – prevent it happening?’

  Jessica shook
her head again.

  The other girl straightened up, sighing philosophically. ‘Oh well. I’ll just have to hope for the best, I suppose.’

  ‘Couldn’t you—’ Jessica ventured, and stopped, clearing her throat.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Couldn’t you – take your mother’s advice? I mean – if David knew how you felt—’

  ‘What?’ Annabel squealed with incredulous laughter, ‘Oh, Jessica, don’t tease! I’m serious!’

  Jessica smiled weakly.

  Annabel regarded her, faint astonishment in the candid dark eyes. ‘Could you?’

  Jessica was once more reduced to a wordless headshake.

  ‘Can you imagine it? Goodness, they’d have to lock me up! It’s dreadful of me, isn’t it?’ She was suddenly uncharacteristically serious, ‘But, oh Jessica – if he touches me – looks at me – I’m wild for him. Isn’t it disgraceful?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Jessica’s voice was gentle. Beneath the other girl’s gay bravado she sensed a true anxiety. Brought up to believe the joys of the body to be a purely male preserve Annabel’s awakening had not, Jessica suspected, been without the penalty of guilt.

  ‘I wonder if it will always be like this?’ The pretty voice was pensive, ‘I mean – when we’re old? I pray so. I truly do.’

  Jessica said nothing.

  Faintly in the distance, thunder rolled.

  ‘I think there’s going to be a storm,’ Annabel said.

  * * *

  Against her will she found herself watching them. She watched the touch of their hands, the almost unconscious movement of their bodies towards each other, the warm secrets in their eyes when their glances met. She watched the teasingly provocative way that Annabel lifted her face to her husband, small teeth glimmering in a smile that brought answering laughter to his eyes – laughter, and something else, a strangely dangerous gleam of excitement and of challenge. She sensed Annabel’s suppressed excitement when her young husband took her hand, or touched her cheek. Sensed it and, she realized with something of a shock, envied it deeply.