Chapter Eighteen
‘Are you quite insane, woman?’ Augustus raked back a lock of hair from his forehead, high colour darkening his cheekbones. ‘I have told you over and over again, he did not board the ship which was to bring him to England. He and his luggage disappeared some time after the coach arrived at Calais. That being the case, how on earth could the girl have anything to do with it? Damn it, the chit barely leaves my sister’s side.’
‘I did not mean that she had spirited William away, and you know that.’ Gwendoline Fraser’s voice was clear and unswerving, her frothy hair and delicate appearance at odds with the burning hatred in eyes fixed squarely on her husband’s angry face. ‘You also know that the fishergirl was the real reason William left for France in the first place, and I do not believe you when you say you think he had a woman in Paris. Your criminal foolishness in placing that girl in a position which meant she had access to our son is unforgivable.’
‘Give me strength!’ Augustus glared at Gwendoline a moment longer before swinging away from his wife, demanding of his daughters sitting side by side on the chaise-longue, ‘Is your mother being reasonable? Now is she?’ He didn’t wait for an answer before turning back to his wife. He wagged his finger in her face as he ground out, ‘Plenty of young bucks take their pleasure with girls from the common people, it’s a natural enough need and one which is easily met. It gets rid of excess . . . emotion when they are in decent society. If he did sport with her, which I doubt, that was all it was.’
At one time Gwendoline would have been intimidated by her husband’s fury, but now neither his voice nor his manner had the slightest effect on her. She loathed him. She had always disliked him although she hadn’t recognised this until the first night of their honeymoon. It had been only then she had discovered exactly what being married entailed, and for some long time afterwards she had felt she would not be able to endure it.
Each time she had found herself with child after Augustus’s abominable demands and experienced the horror of her body swelling and distorting she had thought she’d go mad, her only comfort being that her husband did not force himself upon her again until after the confinement. She had prayed - oh, how she had prayed - that each child would be a boy after Augustus had made it clear the disgusting procedure would continue until she provided him with Greyfriar’s son and heir.
And then, at long last, William had been born, and Gwendoline had found to her amazement that she felt affection for this child in a way she did not for her daughters. Perhaps part of that love stemmed from gratitude that with her son’s birth her body became solely her own again, but it wasn’t wholly that. She actually delighted in the boy, who from birth had shown signs of considerable beauty and definitely took after her side of the family. And now, now her precious son could be in dire straits, or worse . . .
Her lips thinned, and then she said, ‘You judge William by your own standards, I fear. I tell you, he had formed an attachment to the girl. Look how he reacted when Francis displayed an interest in her - that should have told you how he felt. And you encouraged this attachment which had its beginnings in gratitude and would have died a natural death if you had left well alone instead of placing her with Wilhelmina. Now this same attachment, which ultimately caused William to leave us, has resulted in disaster.’
‘Gwendoline, for crying out loud, see sense! I agree William felt gratitude to the chit - she’d saved his life, damn it! But it was that and only that which made him object to Francis sniffing round her. William didn’t want him . . . exploiting her as he’s exploited others. Neither did our son like the idea of Francis muddying the waters so close to home. Something I entirely agree with, incidentally. ’
‘You do not believe there was anything beyond gratitude on William’s part?’
‘Of course there was not, I am convinced of it.’
‘Then you are more of a fool than I thought, Augustus.’ Her voice sounding thin and cold, Gwendoline continued to stare at her husband who clearly couldn’t believe his ears. She had never spoken to him in this way before. ‘And let me tell you now, if anything has happened to my son, I hold you solely responsible.’
‘You are mad, woman,’ he growled through clenched teeth as he struggled to contain his rage. ‘If you continue in this way I shall have you committed.’
Gwendoline ignored this, as she did the white faces of her daughters. Their distress did not touch her, they had too much of their father in them. ‘If anything has happened to him,’ she repeated slowly with great emphasis on every word, ‘I shall not continue to live in this house as your wife. I shall leave, and not quietly, Augustus. There will be a public scandal. I shall demand a divorce.’
He had been staring at his wife as though he had never seen her before, and indeed felt he was looking at and listening to a stranger, but at her last words an incredulous smile touched his lips. ‘Don’t talk such rubbish.’ He walked across to the long sideboard with ornate inlaid mother-of-pearl upon which stood a silver tray holding a brandy decanter and several small glasses. He poured himself a generous measure, lifting it to his lips and tossing it back in one gulp before he said, ‘William was seen with his arms round a young woman at Calais as you very well know, even if you try to ignore the fact that the boy is a full-grown man with a man’s natural appetites. The cock and bull story about visiting Rockbury’s estate might well have been because he had his eye on some little filly or other, and intended to slip away with her somewhere.’
‘You do not know that. And how you could have returned to England without finding out what happened . . .’
‘Gwendoline! I have left Kirby with Marcel and the two of them are quite capable of making further enquiries.’
Gwendoline’s thin upper lip curled. ‘Kirby.’
‘Yes, Kirby. You may have no time for the fellow but he’s an excellent valet who is devoted to me. And to William too, I might add.’
Her voice cold, Gwendoline said, ‘Perhaps,’ because she knew such an answer would infuriate Augustus. In truth she did not doubt the valet’s devotion to her husband, she had suffered from it too many years to doubt it.
A knock at the door followed by a footman announcing the arrival of Lord and Lady Routledge brought the conversation to a close, but as Gwendoline watched her husband greeting the other couple, she thought, He does not believe me about the divorce, but if anything has happened to William, he’ll see.
Kirby returned to Greyfriar Hall within the week, bringing Francis Fraser with him but not the son and heir. Augustus’s initial fury at his valet’s actions abated somewhat as he listened to the man’s explanation in the privacy of his study.
‘It seems your brother has been in Paris for some months, sir, and Mr Francis told me he’s sure there is nothing to be concerned about. He said’ - Kirby coughed, a polite deprecating sound which said he was well aware of the sensitivity of what he was about to reveal - ‘it is common knowledge that a particular . . . amour had become a little burdensome to Mr William, and he feels your son might have taken advantage of another lady’s offer to visit her abroad.’
‘The woman William was seen with at Calais?’ Augustus nodded. ‘I knew there was one at the bottom of this somewhere. Does Francis know her name?’
‘Regretfully, no, sir.’
Master and valet stared at each other, and then Augustus said, ‘And how would you define my brother’s mood?’
There was a pause before Josiah said, ‘Conciliatory, sir. I think he is anxious to allay your fears concerning Mr William and is hoping to let bygones be bygones.’
‘Hmph!’ Augustus put his head down for a moment, then looking up, said, ‘He’s sold you a sob story, Kirby.’
‘I hope not, sir. I would like to think he is genuine in his desire for a reconciliation.’
Again the two stared at each other, but when Augustus repeated his ‘Hmph’, his tone was not so scornful.
‘I don’t believe it! William wouldn’t just disappear like th
is. He . . . he’s not like that.’ Gwendoline glared at her brother-in-law and husband. ‘And if Francis does not know the name of this other lady, how can we be sure? No, I’m sorry, Francis, I think you are mistaken.’
‘For goodness’ sake, face facts, woman!’ Augustus was showing his customary impatience with his wife. ‘Marcel mentioned an affair which had turned sour, with a diplomat’s wife no less, and where there’s one there’ll be others. I would have thought you’d be pleased, you’ve been in a constant state of nerves the last weeks.’
‘I will not believe it until William himself tells me.’ Gwendoline was on her feet now, refusing to be convinced. ‘But I appreciate your coming to try and set our minds at rest, Francis,’ she added graciously. ‘I trust you will be staying for a while?’
‘Augustus?’ Francis turned to his brother, lowering his eyelids as he waited for the answer and trying not to let his jubiliation show.
‘Of course you are welcome to stay if you are able to.’
‘Yes, I am able to, and thank you. I have missed the old place. Or perhaps it is my family I have missed. The years have a way of catching up suddenly.’
Augustus stared keenly at his brother and must have been reassured because he moved to stand in front of Francis, resting a hand on the other man’s shoulder as he said, ‘I have no wish for us to be estranged, Francis. You are my only brother after all. And I appreciate your concern over William and your wish to put his mother’s mind at rest. The boy has shown himself to be irresponsible in the extreme with this latest escapade.’
‘Youth has to sow its wild oats, brother,’ said Francis gently, earning himself a grateful smile from Gwendoline as he added, ‘William has much to commend him and this phase will pass.’
Augustus was such a fool! How long before he began to fear for William’s well-being in earnest? It could be months or longer, but the beauty of it all was that the nameless corpse would carry its secret to its final resting place. Eventually Augustus would be forced to acknowledge his son was lost, and as the younger brother he was next in line, Francis thought complacently. Augustus had always taken life in small bites, he had never known how to enjoy himself. Even as a young man in his prime he had been overly concerned with upholding the pride of the Fraser name.
Francis raised his eyes as Augustus gripped his shoulder tightly. He would give it six months, a year at most, and then start pressing for a healthy increase in his allowance considering he was in line for the lot. If he knew anything about his brother, Augustus would be a broken man once he realised there was little chance his son was still alive. And he would make sure he started sowing the seeds of doubt in his brother’s mind very carefully in a few months’ time.
He raised his hand to Augustus’s where it rested on his shoulder, pressing it tenderly before they both bowed to Gwendoline as she left the room.
Chapter Nineteen
‘Lift your jaw off the floor, Mam, it’ll get dusty.’ Kitty spoke with a nonchalance she was far from feeling but only Daisy was really aware of this. The other girl had decided on the way home there was no time like the present to tell her parents about Alf, and once having decided had worried about the consequences until even Daisy got the jitters.
‘You! You’ve put her up to this.’ The Murrays had been sitting ensconced in front of the glowing kitchen range which had a kettle sizzling on the hob and was redolent with the smell of freshly baked bread. Wilhelmina allowed no baking on the Sabbath and therefore Gladys was always busy on a Saturday evening, something she frequently bemoaned in spite of the fact that it meant her work was light the next day.
Daisy faced the cook across the kitchen table which still held the remains of the couple’s supper, and would continue to do so until Kitty cleared the dirty dishes. Part of her was thinking how warm and homely the scene could be; the shining pans, the steel and brass fender glowing rose-coloured in the light from the fire, the oak dresser full of china and fancy dishes. But then there was Gladys and Harold, and there the scene of cosy domestic bliss ended. ‘If you’re implying I was the means by which Kitty met Alf, I gladly accept the blame,’ Daisy said evenly, ‘but I can assure you they are in love with each other.’
‘Love?’ Gladys spat the word. ‘This Alf, he’s the one who’s been soft on you for years, isn’t he? Got tired of him, have you, an’ tossed him to her’ - she indicated the white-faced Kitty with a vicious jab of her head - ‘like a bone to a dog?’
‘Alfred’ - it was rare she gave him the dignity of his full name but Daisy felt the situation called for it - ‘and Kitty love each other.’
‘Oh, aye? An’ pigs fly.’
‘No, but it seems they enjoy a good supper.’ Daisy’s gaze swept contemptuously over the laden kitchen table, at which point the angry little woman in front of her seemed to swell up like a balloon.
‘You hussy! You brazen hussy! You think we don’t know what you’re up to with your creepin’ an’ crawlin’ round the mistress? By, we’d got your measure long afore you set foot in this place, miss. Aye, we’d been warned about you, an’ rightly so.’
At this point Harold put a calming hand on his wife’s arm, only to have it shaken off so violently he was forced to say, ‘Gladys, Gladys lass, don’t upset yerself.’
‘Upset meself?’ His wife was screeching now. ‘When that trollop of a daughter of yours has just announced she’s keepin’ company with the scum of the earth? If you were any sort of man you’d have knocked her into next weekend as soon as she opened her mouth.’
‘I’m not just keepin’ company with Alf, we’re goin’ to get married.’
‘I’d as soon cut your throat, aye, I would.’ Gladys was leaning forward, her round body bristling with fury. ‘An’ I’d be doin’ you a favour at that. Your life won’t be worth livin’, girl! Workin’ day an’ night for a filthy numbskull who’d make the privy smell sweet, that’ll be your lot.’
‘Even if that was so it’d be paradise compared to livin’ with you, Mam. But Alf an’ me’ll be happy. I love him an’ he loves me an’ I want to be his wife. An’ I tell you somethin’ else for nothin’ - I’ll be more of a mam to my bairns than you ever were to me an’ that won’t be difficult. This house was a miserable place until Daisy come into it.’
‘You satisfied now? Eh?’
As Gladys advanced on her Daisy held her ground, even as she was aware of a shrinking movement from Kitty beside her. The action brought to mind all the physical abuse her friend had suffered at the hands of this fat tyrant, and through her rising anger, Daisy said, ‘That’s far enough.’
Gladys remained exactly where she was but her hand came out and flapped behind her as she said, ‘Harold! Are you goin’ to stand there an’ let her talk to me like that?’
‘He is sitting, Mrs Murray, and if he wasn’t man enough to stop you ill-treating his daughter, what makes you think he’d be man enough to do anything now?’
There was absolute silence in the kitchen for a moment, and then Gladys let out a long breath before she said, ‘You’ll come a cropper one fine day, girl, an’ I pray to God I’ll be there to see it. An’ you’ - she directed her gaze to her daughter - ‘can get yerself to your room an’ we’ll have no more talk of you marryin’ this fishing scum.’
‘I am marryin’ Alf, Mam, an’ soon.’
That statement suggested something to Gladys that made her go white and grope blindly for a chair. Once she was sitting she said stiffly, ‘How . . . how soon?’
‘As soon as he can arrange it. Probably within the month.’
‘You little slut!’
‘Aye, well, it takes one to know one, eh, Mam? You think I’m so dim I can’t work out how long it was before you had me after you got wed? But then you never expected me to find your wedding paper, I dare bet.’
Gladys stared at her daughter, and now the colour came back into her face in a red flood. ‘You . . . you were early. It happens.’
‘Aye, an’ like you said earlier, pigs might fly.’
There was no turmoil in Kitty’s mind now as she looked at her mother and then her father. Her mam had made her pay all her life for what had been her own mistake, but something had happened out there on the beach tonight when Alf had taken her and she didn’t mean in the physical sense. It had been afterwards, when he had held her close and whispered words she’d never thought to hear, that she’d known he loved her. Differently from how he’d loved Daisy maybe, but that was all right. With Alf loving her she could do anything.
Something of what she was feeling clearly showed in her face because Gladys ground her teeth before she said, ‘You’re worthless, girl, always have bin. I hope you an’ your fisherman burn in hell’s everlasting flames.’
‘Come out of this, lass.’ Daisy pushed Kitty towards the door, saying over her shoulder, ‘Alf’s marrying Kitty because he loves her, Gladys, and they’re going to be happy. Chew on that awhile.’
Candles in the Storm Page 28
