Lady Brecon gave a little cry of delight at the sight of her.
“Come and kiss me, Caroline, my dear,” she said softly. “I have wished above all things to see you today but your Abigail told Dorcas that you were remaining in your bedchamber until after luncheon, so I could do naught but possess my soul in patience.”
Caroline bent and kissed her.
“I would have come to you at once, Ma’am,” she said, “had I but known you desired it.”
Lady Brecon patted her hand fondly.
“I always desire to see you. Tell me now about your marriage, and Vane. How is my son?”
Caroline hesitated. She hated to lie to Lady Brecon and yet she knew that she must not disturb her with the truth.
“His lordship is well,” she replied at length, “I have but just this instant left him.”
Despite the effort Caroline made to sound natural there was something in the tone of her voice which caused Lady Brecon to glance at her enquiringly. For a moment Caroline was afraid the Dowager would ask if anything were amiss but with her usual habit of avoiding the unpleasant things of life she said nothing.
Because she was nervous, Caroline talked quickly.
“We were married in the Chapel,” she said. “The Lord Bishop performed the ceremony and someone - I have no idea who - played the organ. I wish, Ma’am, that you could have been present on such an auspicious occasion.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Caroline was aware that her glib sentences had not set Lady Brecon’s mind at rest and she knew instinctively what her ladyship wished to hear. She desired to be told that her son was happy, she wanted to be sure that this marriage, undertaken so hastily and in such strange circumstances, had brought him the joy which, as his mother, Lady Brecon was well aware had long been missing from his life.
But try as she might, Caroline knew that she could not utter such falsehoods convincingly, so instead she said,
“I noticed during the service that Vane’s formidable list of Christian names did not include the one by which he is always known.”
“No, for Vane is a pet name,” Lady Brecon answered. “As you say, Caroline, the names he was given at his christening make a formidable array, so I chose to call him Vane because it was simple and because it was the name of someone whom I once loved very dearly - someone who died before Vane was born.”
“So that is the explanation,” Caroline said. “I wondered.”
“Your surprise was to be expected,” Lady Brecon replied “for everyone addresses my son by the name I preferred for him.”
There was a pause while Caroline sought vainly for another topic of conversation, and then Lady Brecon said almost pleadingly,
“You do love him, Caroline?”
This was a question which Caroline could answer in all honesty.
“Yes, Ma’am, I love him with all my heart and soul.”
“I wanted to be sure of that,” Lady Brecon said happily. “And now you will be able to look after him, Caroline, because often I have been afraid that there is a wildness about him. It is difficult to put into words and perhaps all young men are the same, but it is worse for those who have no father to guide them if they are wealthy and have a position in life. But all the same, it is of vast impart to have such things, for poverty is hard, especially for a man of breeding.”
Lady Brecon seemed almost to be talking to herself, and Caroline sensed some deep anxiety behind her words.
“I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to make Vane happy.” she said, and rising to her feet she added, “If your ladyship will excuse me, I would go and lie down. I feel strangely tired.”
“But of course, my dear,” Lady Brecon answered. “Yester eve must have been a strain upon you. Let Dorcas escort you to your bedchamber and ring for your maid.”
“There is no need,” Caroline replied, but even as she spoke she suddenly felt too weak to argue, for now unexpectedly the shock of what she had seen and heard earlier in the afternoon was beginning to take effect.
By the time she reached her room she was shivering all over and her hands were as cold as ice. Maria was fetched and Caroline submitted without protest to being undressed and tucked into bed with a warm brick at her feet. The fire was blazing in the room but alone the less she shivered and felt as if she would never be warm again. The chill seemed to have crept into her very bones and the physical discomfort of it swept away her detachment so, that now she could see Cassy’s cunning little eyes and hear her voice repeating itself over and over again. Caroline groaned and buried her face in the pillow.
“You are ill, m’lady,” Maria cried in consternation. “Permit me to ask his lordship to send for his physician.”
“No, no, Maria,” Caroline expostulated. “I know what is wrong with me and I assure you that a physician can give me no relief from my ills.”
Nevertheless it worried her that despite the blankets piled on the bed she continued to shiver until her teeth chattered as if she had an age. She suggested to Maria that she should ask Dorcas if her ladyship had a bottle of laudanum.
“If I could sleep, Maria, I believe I would wake in perfect health. It is just that something has upset me and last night I did not close my eyes.”
Maria thought this a sensible suggestion, and having given Caroline a few drops of laudanum, she sat by the bedside until at length the shivering seemed to pass from her limbs and her eyelids dropped drowsily.
Caroline slept all through the night. At first in the deep, dreamless sleep of one who has been drugged, then, as the hours passed, the colour came back to her cheeks as she lay breathing easily and rhythmically as a child. It was only then that Maria tiptoed from the room and went to her own bed.
When Caroline awoke, the sun had been up for some hours. She stretched and sat up. For a moment she could hardly believe she had slept the whole night through she felt fresh and invigorated and the memory of how she had crept to bed cold and shivering seemed now nothing more than a half forgotten fantasy. She got out of bed, went to the window, and pulled aside the curtains.
The gardens below were golden with sunshine and Caroline blinked her eyes in its warm rays.
“I must get up,” she said aloud. “What a lazy mistress the household will think they have in me.”
She rang the bell and Maria came hurrying into the room.
“Oh, m’lady, ‘tis better you are looking this morning,” she exclaimed.
“Better?” Caroline smiled. “I am well, Maria. Bring me my breakfast and a bath, for I would be about the house, not malingering here in my bedchamber.”
“I have been greatly perturbed about your ladyship,” Maria said as she bustled about the room. “Why, when I put you to bed last night, your ladyship looked as if you had seen a ghost.”
“Perhaps I had,” Caroline sighed, and for a moment the horror of Vane’s terrible secret overshadowed her.
But nothing could dim or dispel her courage this morning. She would see Vane, she told herself, she would talk with him and make him lower this barrier which he had erected between them so that together they could try to find a way to dispel the terrors which barred their way to happiness.
“There must be some solution,” Caroline said aloud.
“What was that, m’lady?” Maria enquired.
“I was but thinking my thoughts aloud,” Caroline answered. “Maria, if you were confronted with something fearful, something which threatened your entire happiness, what would you do?”
Maria thought for a moment.
“I suppose if it was as bad as all that, m’lady, I should pray!”
“And if prayer would not help you?”
“Then, m’lady,’ I suppose I should just have to make the best of it whatever it was,” Maria said practically.
“I believe you are right,” Caroline said, “and I shall try both your remedies, Maria.”
“Praying never hurt anyone as far as I can see,” Maria remarked, “and if, as my
mother always said, “God helps those as helps themselves,” maybe prayer will show your ladyship a way in which you can help yourself.”
“Then I shall pray,” Caroline said, “for I greatly need to be shown the way out of my difficulties.”
“And while your ladyship is praying I will fetch you some breakfast,” Maria said. “Is there anything for which your ladyship has a fancy?”
“I am not over particular,” Caroline replied, “for I am exceeding hungry.”
“That is a good sign, m’lady.”
Maria smiled and flurried from the, room.
Alone Caroline moved to the window again, but her thoughts were not on the view which lay beneath her. Maria was right, she thought. She must pray - pray for guidance so that she could do the right thing and help Vane in the right way.
She had a sudden longing for her father and mother. If only they were with her, if, only she could put her problems to Lord Vulcan and hear his grave sensible voice tell her what she must do. But they were, far away and there was no one whose advice she could ask.
She was indeed dreading a letter from Cousin Debby. She expected to receive it today, and it was only to be expected that Mrs. Edgmont would be both shocked and flustered at the step Caroline had taken in her parents’ absence. And yet, Caroline asked herself, what else could she have done but marry Vane?
It was true that he had proposed to her in a fit of ungovernable anger, but she was convinced that it was better to have married him like that than not at all. Even now Caroline did not regret the step she had taken. She would far rather be married to Vane with all his terrible secrets than not married at all, for she knew that, having known him, having felt his arms around her and his lips on hers, she could never care for any other man.
She had been meant for Vane from the very beginning of their lives and he for her, and remembering how they had come together in such a curious manner, Caroline thought that the ways of God were indeed strange and mysterious and that somehow, even though it was not given for mortals to see it, there was a plan and a pattern underlying all things.
Caroline was praying, her face hidden in her hands, when Maria returned with the tray. There were eggs and ham, cold meats and a choice cut of salmon in the silver dishes. There was golden butter from the farm and honey from the Brecon bees, which were famous for their sweetness, and Maria had also brought a dish of red strawberries and a jug of cream with which to cover them.
“Thank you, Maria,” Caroline said as the tray was set down at her side.
“Miss Harriet Wantage is below, m’lady,” Maria said. “She is anxious to see your ladyship and I said I would enquire if you would receive her.
“Harriet! At this hour!” Caroline exclaimed.
“Tis nigh eleven of the clock.”
“How shameful!” Caroline smiled. “Harriet will think I am an indolent London miss who never rises before noon. I must explain to her that my behaviour this morning is the exception and not the rule.”
“I cannot see that it matters, your ladyship, what Miss Wantage thinks,” Maria said disdainfully. “After all, she is but the Vicar’s daughter.”
Caroline laughed.
“Maria, you are a dreadful snob!”
“Yes, m’lady,” Maria agreed complaisantly, “and now I will ask the footman to show Miss Wantage upstairs.”
Caroline was, eating her strawberries when Harriet was announced. She rose and went across the room to greet her.
“Harriet, I am hated that you should discover me in déshabille at such an hour, but I was so exhausted last night that Maria drugged me with the laudanum bottle and I have only just awakened.”
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” Harriet said, “but, Caroline, I had to see you, for I am in sore need of your help and advice.”
“Then sit down and tell me all about it,” Caroline said. “Maria shall fetch you some fresh chocolate.”
“No - no, please do not trouble,” Harriet said. “I require nothing. Indeed I think I will never eat again, for I am so excited, Caroline, and at the same time in such a twitter that I know not which way to turn”
Caroline looked at Harriet with laughter in her eyes.
“Then dare I collect that you are in love Harriet?”
A deep flush stained Harriet’s thin cheeks.
“Oh Caroline, is it so obvious?”
“Of course it is,’ Caroline declared, “for I vow I have never seen you look so pretty before.”
Harriet blushed even deeper.
“I never thought I would live to hear anyone call me pretty,” she said humbly. “’But, Caroline – he thinks so.”
“Meaning of course, Mr. Stratton,” Caroline hazarded.
Harriet nodded.
“And, has he – has he offered for you, Harriet?” Caroline asked.
Harriet nodded again, obviously too overcome for words.
“But that is beyond all things wonderful!” Caroline exclaimed. “La, Harriet , and of course you accepted him?”
In answer Harriet clasped her hands together.
“Indeed I know not what to say. I love him - deeply and with the greatest respect but – but he wishes me to elope with him and – oh, Caroline, how can I deceive Papa?”
Caroline gave a sigh and pushed her breakfast tray aside.
“Tell me everything from the very beginning,” she commanded.
Nothing loath, Harriet, who seemed to be almost bursting with excitement, began.
“It was the night of your wedding, Caroline. I cannot recall exactly how it happened, but I found myself walking in the garden with Mr. Stratton. He spoke to me of Papa and I explained to him as best I could without being disloyal that Papa had turned him from the house because he had learned that he was poor. “You must not blame my father too harshly, sir,” I said, “for seeing that we ourselves live in most straitened circumstances, he has a great repugnance to poverty and dislikes above all things to be reminded of it.” Mr. Stratton – Thomas he says I should call him now – asked, “And what do you feel about such things, Miss Wantage?” I answered him truthfully and said that, having been poor all my life, I had known little else but poverty and that we frail women were seldom afraid of what was familiar, however disagreeable it might be. Then he said, “If you fell in love with someone, Miss Wantage, and he was without wealth?” I replied with dignity, “If I fell in love with someone, Mr. Stratton, it would not matter a fig to me whether he was a king or a pauper. I would love him for himself and be proud to serve him even if he required of me that I should scrub his floors and cook his meals.” And then, Caroline – Oh, I can hardly tell you,” Harriet paused breathlessly, her eyes shining.
“Go on,” Caroline prompted. ‘It is the most intriguing story I have ever heard.”
“Well then,” Harriet continued, “he turned to me, took my hand and said, “Miss Wantage, could you love me for myself alone?” and Caroline, for a moment my heart seemed to stop beating and I thought I would swoon away at his feet.”
“But you didn’t,” Caroline said with a little smile. “What did you do?”
Harriet blushed again and said, dropping her eyes,
“I said – and, Caroline, was it very bold and unmaidenly of me? – I said, “But I do love you, sir, and it matters not if you are a pauper, for to me you will always be a king”
“Bravo, Harriet,” Caroline exclaimed, “and what happened after that?”
“I am afraid,” Harriet said in a very low voice, “that I was so bemused by my own daring that I allowed him to kiss me. Oh, Caroline, I blush to think of it even now.”
“You have far more sense than I thought possible,” Caroline said. “Go on, Harriet!”
“Well, after that I remembered Papa, and when Mr. Stratton – Thomas I mean – suggested coming to the Vicarage to see him the very next day to ask for my hand, I begged him not to in a very frenzy of fear, for, Caroline, you know full well that Papa would have driven him away with a horsewhip. I told Thomas
that and added that if Papa was really annoyed with me, he would send me away to his sister, my Aunt Roxana, at Ramsgate. She is as frightening as Papa himself and would make it utterly impossible for me to ever set eyes on Thomas again.”
And what did Mr. Stratton say to that?” Caroline asked.
“He said that in these circumstances there was only one thing to be done, that we must run away to Gretna Green.”
“And you have agreed?” Caroline asked.
“That is why I have come to see you,” Harriet answered. “Oh, Caroline, what shall I do? What shall I do?”
“There is no question on it,” Caroline replied. “You must go with him, Harriet - to Gretna Green.”
“But, Papa, he will kill me if he catches me.”
“He won’t catch you,” Caroline said reassuringly. “I think you can safely leave that in Mr. Stratton’s hands. All you have to do, Harriet, is to let him make the arrangements and to meet him at the time he asks.”
“He suggested nine o’clock this evening,” Harriet faltered, twisting her fingers together in an agony of indecision and helplessness. “He sent me a note yesterday from Sevenoaks where he is staying and I vow it was the merest chance that it did not fall into Papa’s hands. I nearly died with fright when a groom brought it to the house but two minutes before Papa returned from riding.”
“And in it Mr. Stratton suggested that you elope this evening?” Caroline said.
“Yes, he has told me to meet him outside the Castle gates,” Harriet said. “It is a wise idea, I know, for if curious eyes see a post chaise waiting there, they will not credit for a moment that it is for someone from the Vicarage.”
“Mr. Stratton seems to have got everything well thought out,” Caroline said. “He trusts you to be there and you cannot fail him. Why are you so worried?”
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