I put my hands over my face. I did not want him to see my expression. His talk of Beau had brought back so many memories of the room in Enderby Hall. This room was not unlike it. He reminded me more and more of Beau. I was afraid of myself. I felt that if this man touched me I should not be able to fight off the fantasy. I should let myself slip into the dream.
“Stop regretting Beaumont Granville,” he was saying. “You would have been wretched with him. Your people were right to try to stop the marriage. Beaumont could never be faithful to one woman for more than a week. He was completely cynical about them. He talked of them to me … to others too, I don’t doubt. He talked of you, Carlotta.”
I repeated blankly: “He talked of me!”
“He was going to marry you because of your fortune. Solely because of your fortune, Carlotta. He wasn’t in the least reluctant, though. A nice fortune and a loving little wife. He told me how it was with you. He described those times you spent together in Enderby Hall, wasn’t it? He talked about women like that. He used to talk about Naturals. They were born for it, he said. Lovely passionate creatures. They are as eager as you are. Carlotta, he said, is like that. He was glad, he said. One grew tired of the shrinking kind who had no heart in the romp.”
“Be silent,” I cried. “How can you? I hate you. I hate you. If I could I would …”
“I know. If you had a sword here you’d run it through me as Durrell would have run it through you this morning. You owe me your life, Carlotta.”
I could not explain my feelings. There was shame there, shame for what Beau had said of me. I never wanted to see that room at Enderby again. My mother had done everything she could to stop me and she had been right. I could not bear to think of him—discussing me and my emotions and my reactions to this … disciple of his.
His fingers were on my coat. “Come, dear Carlotta,” he said. “Forget him. He is past. Perhaps he lies mouldering in some grave. Perhaps he is at this moment lying with someone who can give him more than you could. Forget him. I know you and love you already. You are no stranger to me, Carlotta.”
He had taken off my coat. He was undressing me with unexpectedly tender hands.
I wrenched myself free suddenly. I looked about the room. He took my face in his hands and said: “Caught. Trapped, like a little bird in a net. Sweet Carlotta, life is fleeting. Who knows, perhaps this very night men will come to this place and take me. Perhaps in a week, a month, my head and shoulders will have parted. Life is short. It has always been my motto. Enjoy it while we can. That should be yours, too. Who shall say what tomorrow shall bring to either of us? But there is tonight.”
Then he picked me up and carried me to the bed.
He laid me there and I closed my eyes.
Resistance was useless. I was completely in his power. I knew the sort of man he was. Beau’s sort. He was moving about the room. Then he blew out the candle and was beside me.
I wanted to cry out in protest. But cries, as he had pointed out, were useless. I was in his power.
I heard him laugh in the darkness. I think he knew me better than I knew myself.
It is difficult to understand myself. I suppose I should have felt degraded and humiliated; and in a way I did, and yet … It is hard to explain except to say that I am a woman who was meant to experience physical passion and I was beginning to understand that it was not so much Beau himself that I had missed as the opportunity to match my physical needs with one with whom I was in complete bodily harmony. This was how it was with Hessenfield. We were as one flesh; I forgot the reason for my being where I was and although I brought out all my pride—and that was considerable in ordinary circumstances—I could not hide the fact that I found pleasure in this encounter.
Hessenfield knew it; he exulted in it, and he was by no means a rough or uncouth lover as might have been expected in the circumstances. He behaved as though his great desire was to please me and he made no secret of his delight in me.
He told me that I was wonderful; that he had never enjoyed such an experience as much as he had with me.
In the darkness he whispered to me: “I could so easily fall in love with you.”
I did not jeer at him; I remained silent. I was overcome by a mixture of shame and ecstasy.
We were as suited as lovers as Beau and I had been. There was an overpowering sensuality in us both which gave us a rare appreciation of the sensations we could evoke in each other. Whatever happened to me, I could not wholeheartedly regret this adventure.
He knew it even as I did. He certainly behaved like a lover after that first onslaught. It was as though he was telling me that he was sorry it had happened in this way.
When the first streaks of light were in the sky he was at the window. He was looking for the ship.
“There is nothing there,” he said; and there was almost a relief in his voice.
Another day passed. A long day it seemed. They were all watching for the arrival of the ship. I dressed the General’s wound. I seemed to be more adept at nursing than any of the others and they let me do it. They seemed glad that I could.
The General was not quite sure where he was, so he did not question my presence. I was glad of that. Later I went down to the kitchen and prepared the food for them. It was only a matter of setting it out on the table for whoever this house belonged to had left it well stocked with food.
I was embarrassed to meet Hessenfield’s gaze during that morning. He was so knowledgeable; he would know exactly how I was feeling, and I could scarcely pretend to be as outraged as I should be. He had been fully aware of the passion in me which had matched his own. He was too experienced not to understand my nature. At one time he came up behind me, caught me and held me against him; I felt his lips on my ear. He was behaving as a true lover might. It was disconcerting.
I felt ashamed to face the others, for they all knew what had happened. Hessenfield undoubtedly had a reputation for his amorous adventures. Beau’s pupil, I thought.
He had taught me something. It was that it was not so much Beau whom I wanted but a man who could satisfy me in the way Beau had.
The night came and we were alone again. As he held me tightly against him he said: “I am glad the ship did not come today.”
“You are a fool,” I said. “Every day your danger grows.”
“It’s worth it,” he answered, “for a night with you.”
We lay together in the big four-poster bed just as I had lain in that other with Beau.
He said: “I believe you love me a little.”
I did not answer and he went on: “At least you do not hate me. Oh, Carlotta, who would have thought this would have turned out so. Since I saw you in the inn I wanted this. I wouldn’t have anything changed …”
Then he kissed me and I tried to ward off the desire which he knew so well how to kindle.
“You should never pretend, sweetheart,” he said. “There is nothing wrong in being a vibrant woman. Oh, God, how I wish that things were not as they are. I like to think that these traitors had not arisen, that you and I had met perhaps at some court function. And I saw you and loved you and asked for your hand in honourable marriage. Think of that, Carlotta.”
“I should have to agree, you know,” I reminded him.
“You would. There would have been no objection from your family, I promise you, and if there had been from you I should have brought you to some place like this and proved to you how necessary I was in your life. You would have accepted me then, Carlotta, would you not?”
“I suppose if you had seduced me I should have to,” I retorted.
“Sweet Carlotta. I shall pray that the ship does not come tomorrow.”
I said nothing. I was afraid to betray my feelings with words as I had in other ways.
In a strange way I was in love with him. It must be remembered that we were all in a highly emotional state. Death hovered over all of us. It seemed unlikely that they would allow me to live. I knew too much. Durrell was right. Although they
guarded me night and day it would not have been impossible for me to escape their vigilance and then, considering what I knew, I could be a terrible danger to them.
I thought of it. While Hessenfield lay sleeping beside me I could have risen, found the key to the door, unlocked it, got out of the house, taken one of the horses from the stable and been away. Hessenfield was taking a great risk in letting me live. And they no less than I were close to death, and that knowledge must have its effect. I was conscious of a great desire to go on living—a lust for life which I had not noticed before. In the last day or so I had moved away from the past. I had changed. I was not exactly happier than I had been, but I can only say that I was more alive.
I lived from hour to hour. I did not want to look ahead to the time when I should gaze out and see the ship there. God knew what would happen to me then. Hessenfield would say good-bye to me. Would he do it with a sword? No, I could not believe he would harm me. Yet he would have imposed himself upon me however reluctant I had felt. He would have raped me and exulted in it.
And yet there had sprung up these strange emotions between us. Our natures went out to meet each other; in a way we belonged together. He was a man of power. Perhaps that was what I looked for in men. He was a natural buccaneer, an adventurer, a leader of men. He had grace, elegance and an air of gallantry; he was a man of the world; he combined fastidiousness with a kind of primitive strength. He was virile yet he was tender; he had the ability to make me feel that I was more important to him than anyone had ever been before and I thrilled to that, although I could not entirely believe it. Beau had that, I reminded myself. And to him I had just been a fortune—and the means of providing amusement for an hour or so.
There was no doubt that my emotions were in turmoil; my senses were heightened. I was living again—and more than anything I wanted to go on living.
It was the third day. They were beginning to get restive.
“What has delayed them?” I heard Durrell say. “It can’t be the weather. God help us, at any moment a storm could arise … gales … anything. That would be understandable … but it’s calm enough out there.”
The weather had turned warm and the sun beat through the windows. I looked longingly out at the green lawns and the shrubbery.
The house was built in a small valley and it was only from the second and third storeys that the sea was visible.
Hessenfield, seeing me gaze out with longing, came to stand beside me. He laid a hand on my shoulder and I felt the tremor run through me.
He said: “It looks inviting out there.”
“We have been cooped up so long,” I replied.
“Come,” he said. “We’ll take a walk.”
I was delighted, and I couldn’t help showing my pleasure.
“I don’t think you’ll try to run away,” he said. “In any case you wouldn’t have much chance, would you?”
I did not answer.
“Come,” he said. He unlocked the door and we went out. I stood for a moment breathing in the fresh air. It was exhilarating.
“A pleasant spot,” said Hessenfield. He gripped my arm. “Ah, it is good to be out of doors again.”
We walked in silence up the slight incline and now we were facing the sea. It was calm as a lake and of a beautiful mother-of-pearl translucency.
“Sometimes I think our ship will never come,” he mused. “Or come too late for us.”
“What shall you do if it does not come?”
“If it does not come our chances are slight. With every day that passes the danger becomes more acute.” He turned to me suddenly and looked intently at me. “And each morning I have said, ‘Not today. Give me another night with my love.’ ”
“You do not deceive me. You are as eager as the others for the ship to come.”
He shook his head, and we were silent for a while.
We had come out to the path which was close to the cliff edge. There was a narrow gully leading down to the beach.
I said: “I should like to go close to the sea … to touch it.”
“Why not?” he said. “Come on.” He took my hand and we ran down the slight slope. I crouched by the water and let my hand trail in it.
“So peaceful here … so quiet,” he said. “I wish … Ah, since I met you, Carlotta, I have done little but wish things were otherwise. Do you believe me?”
I said: “We often feel something at a certain time and think it is all-important. Then life changes and we see that which was so important to us was of small significance.”
“And you think this … our encounter … is of small significance?”
“If you kill me it will be of small significance to me, for I shall be dead.”
He turned away from the sea, and, holding my arm firmly, as though I had reminded him of the need to guard me, we walked up the incline to the path.
As we reached the top I heard him catch his breath. I glanced along the path and saw why. Four horsemen were riding towards us.
Hessenfield’s grip tightened on my arm. We were too late to turn back or to hide ourselves. They would have seen us as soon as we saw them.
Now, I thought. It is my chance. This is what they feared. Oh, Hessenfield, I thought, you have made a grave mistake. You should never have left the house with me.
The tables were turned. His life was in my hands now.
Triumphantly I saw that the men were soldiers of the King’s army and it could well be that they were on the trail of the conspirators who had rescued General Langdon from the Tower.
Hessenfield pressed himself against me. It was as though he was reminding me of everything we had been to each other. He said nothing. This was no time for words.
All I had to say was: “They are holding me prisoner because I know what they have done.” And I would be free.
The men were now within calling distance.
“Good day to you,” they shouted.
“Good day,” called Hessenfield. I said “Good day” too.
The horsemen drew up and looked at us keenly. They saw an elegant country gentleman and his woman in a well-cut riding suit.
“You live hereabouts?” asked the horseman.
Hessenfield waved his hand in the direction of the house.
“Then you know the district?”
“You could say so,” said Hessenfield. I was amazed by the calmness of his voice.
“Have you seen any strangers pass this way?” asked the horseman.
“Strangers? I have noticed nothing.”
“And you my lady?”
It seemed a long silence. I heard the shriek of a gull—mocking in a melancholy way. Revenge. Your chance. They will lose their heads, every one of them.
I heard myself say: “I have seen no strangers.”
“I’m afraid neither I nor my wife can help,” said Hessenfield and there was a lighthearted joy in his voice which I thought must be apparent to them. “Is it anyone in particular you are looking for?”
“No matter,” said the horseman. “But perhaps you can tell us how far it is to Lewes.”
“Five or six miles along the road,” said Hessenfield.
They doffed their hats and bowed. We stood for a moment looking after them. Then he turned to me. He said nothing. He just took me in his arms and held me tightly.
I had shown him my true feelings for him. It was like ridding myself of a burden.
There was no longer any need to pretend.
That night it was different.
We were lovers now in truth.
“Do you realise, foolish one, that you have declared yourself for us?”
“I care nothing for your plots.”
“That makes it all the more important. Oh, Carlotta, I love you. I would have loved you if you had betrayed us. But I don’t think I was ever so happy in my life as I was that moment when you stood there and declared yourself for us.”
“For you,” I said.
“Dearest Carlotta,” he said. “My love
. A week ago I did not know you, now you are here and you have changed my life.”
“You will forget me,” I said.
“As you will forget me?”
“I don’t forget easily.”
Then he kissed me and we made love with an intensity as though we had some premonition that this would be our last night together.
We found sleep impossible.
We lay awake talking. There was no barrier between us now. I had held his fate in my hands and had shown clearly that I would save him at risk to myself. Nothing could have been more explicit.
He told me of the necessity of taking the General to France.
“We are determined,” he said, “to rid the country of the imposters. The throne belongs to James Stuart and his son after him. William has no right to it. Anne is not the true heir while James lives and has a son to follow him.”
“Why should such matters be of great importance to us? William is a good king, most people agree. Why should we risk our lives just so that one person shall wear the crown instead of another?”
He laughed at me. “Women’s reasoning,” he murmured.
“And none the worse for that. In truth, reasonable reasoning.”
He ruffled my hair and kissed me.
Then he told me of the disappointment over the plot that failed and the consternation in St. Germain-en-Laye when it was discovered that General Langdon was in the Tower. “We planned carefully. It was the usual escape. Wine smuggled in … drunken guards, stolen keys. Unfortunately at the last lap it was necessary for the General to jump to freedom. The rope he used was not long enough. He crashed to the ground. Hence his injuries. We got him away by boat to a spot on the river where horses were waiting. That was how we got to the Black Boar.”
“And if you were caught …”
“Our heads would be the price we should pay.”
I touched his head—his thick light brown hair with the tawny lights in it, which was so much more becoming, I thought, than the fashionable peruke.
“Yes,” he said, “and you have saved it this day, my love. Although we should have put up a good fight if you had betrayed us. Oh, I was so proud of you, so happy for myself when you stood there and told them you had seen no strangers pass by. You hesitated, though. Just a split second. You knew you could save yourself. Yes, you could … but at my expense … perhaps the cost of my life. And then you knew what you wanted to do. Never, never shall I forget.”
Philippa Carr - [Daughters of England 06] Page 43
