A Mother's Secret

by Dilly Court

  For the first time since she had known her, Belinda saw her sister-in-law disconcerted and at a loss for words. Cassy was leaning against Bailey with her hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide with shock, and the others had moved to the doorway as if preparing to make a rapid exit.

  ‘Please, Flora,’ Belinda said again. ‘I’ll explain everything later.’

  ‘Outside.’ Flora recovered enough to shoo those lingering in the doorway from the room. ‘I don’t know what this is all about,’ she added, grabbing Cassy by the arm, ‘but I’m sure we’ll find out in good time. That means you too, Ollie.’ She hustled everyone into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

  The room was strangely silent. All Belinda could hear was the ticking of the black marble clock on the mantelshelf and the crackling of the log fire. ‘George,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t believe it’s you.’

  He raised his head and his eyes were magnified by tears. ‘My God, Belle. I thought I’d lost you forever.’ He rose from his knees to sit beside her, enfolding her in his arms and holding her as if he would never let her go. ‘I knew you had married Sir Geoffrey, and of course I heard that he had died. I even went to your house in South Audley Street but was told that Lady Davenport no longer lived there. You seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth and I had no way of discovering your whereabouts, until I met Cassy at the ball.’

  Resting her hands on his chest, she could feel his heart beating in time with hers. It seemed as though the years had rolled away and they were young lovers stealing a few moments together in secret. She looked into his eyes, hardly daring to believe that the only man she had ever loved had been restored to her. It was, she thought, a Christmas miracle. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she whispered. ‘Nothing matters now we’re together again.’

  He smoothed her tumbled blonde locks back from her forehead, brushing her eyelids with his lips, kissing her cheeks and finally claiming her mouth in a long and tender kiss. ‘I love you, Belle. I’ve always loved you.’

  ‘And I love you, George.’ She raised her face, parting her lips and giving herself up to the rapture of his kiss. The scent of him was the same; the taste of him had not changed. He still had the power to make her go weak at the knees and forget everything except her desire for him. When he finally released her, she laid her head against his shoulder. ‘What happened to you, my love? You were listed killed in action. It broke my poor heart and I thought I’d die too.’

  ‘I was left for dead after a skirmish with local tribesmen. We were outnumbered and it was carnage, although I didn’t know that at the time. We were close to the border and I remember very little of what followed, but somehow I managed to crawl away from the dead and dying to a place of relative safety amongst the rocks. I was found several days later, half dead, by a Pathan farmer who was searching for some of his goats that had strayed. He took me back to his tribe and they tended me as if I was one of their own, which of course I am, partly anyway, and speaking their language was an advantage. Gradually I began to recover, although for a time I was wracked with fever and it was many months before I could walk again. Eventually I made my way on foot back to the garrison only to discover that you were beyond my reach forever.’

  ‘Oh, George, my darling, it wasn’t what I wanted. In the end I had no choice.’

  He clutched her hand to his heart. ‘You thought I was dead. I wouldn’t have expected you to give up your life for someone you would never see again.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ Belinda said softly. ‘I was carrying your child, George.’

  ‘Belle, if only I’d known.’

  His voice cracked with emotion and she raised her hand to stroke his cheek. ‘I didn’t know myself until after the news came that you’d been killed. I wanted to die too but I had another life to consider. My father arranged the match and I had little choice but to agree to marry Sir Geoffrey. I gave birth to our daughter in Bombay and Mahdu cared for us both. She accompanied us to England and she found a woman in Cripplegate who promised to care for the baby as if she were her own.’

  Cade looked deeply into her eyes, his lips parted in wonder. ‘All these years I’ve had a daughter and I knew nothing of her existence.’

  ‘She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen and it tore my heart in two when she was taken from me at only two months old. Sir Geoffrey was much older than me and he already had a son and heir. He didn’t want any more children and he would never have married me had he known about my baby.’

  Cade gripped her by the shoulders, his eyes searching her face. ‘Do you mean to tell me that Cassy is my daughter?’

  ‘Couldn’t you tell just by looking at her, George? She is so obviously your child.’

  He shook his head. ‘I thought she must be Davenport’s daughter, although somehow I think that deep down I knew the truth all along.’

  ‘Cassy is ours, George. It almost killed me to give her to that woman, but I was able to send money to support her even though being married to Geoffrey meant that I could never see her. If I had gone to that terrible place in Three Herring Court I wouldn’t have been able to leave without her, but Mahdu went there in my stead, once a year on Cassy’s birthday under cover of darkness.’

  A slow smile spread across his face. ‘I can’t believe that we’re together at last, and that we have a wonderful daughter.’

  ‘She’s a remarkable girl. We only found each other a short while ago, but I wouldn’t give her up for all the titles and wealth in the world. She is so like you, darling George. I wonder you didn’t see it the first time you clapped eyes on her.’

  ‘Something drew me to her that evening in the Guildhall. I thought she was the loveliest little thing I’d ever seen, and I wanted to protect her. Now I know why.’ His smiled faded and his lips twisted as if he were in pain. ‘How can I ever make it up to both of you? My suffering is as nothing to the pain I caused you and our daughter.’

  ‘Ma?’

  Cassy’s voice from the doorway made Belinda turn her head, and Cade released her with a guilty start. She rose from the sofa, holding out her arms. ‘Cassy, you must have guessed the truth by now.’

  Cassy looked from one to the other, her puzzled frown fading into a look of wonderment. ‘Are you telling me that he’s my father?’

  Belinda nodded her head, struggling to keep back tears of joy. ‘It’s a miracle, Cassy. He has come back to us. George is the man I’ve always loved and he is your father.’

  ‘I had no knowledge of your existence, Cassy,’ Cade said, eyeing her as if she were a fragile piece of glass that might shatter at any moment. Rising slowly to his feet, he hooked his arm around Belinda’s shoulders. ‘You can’t imagine how happy this makes me. I loved your mother all those years ago and I love her now, more than ever, and I’ll love you too, if you’ll let me.’

  Cassy’s shuttered expression sent a shiver down Belinda’s spine. She could not understand why her daughter was not as overjoyed as herself. The fairytale ending to their story seemed to be slipping from her grasp. ‘George is your father, my darling. That’s why I gave you his name.’

  ‘I’m Cassy Lawson, not Cade.’ Cassy tossed her head, staring at Cade with a challenge in her dark eyes.

  They were so alike, father and daughter. There could be no doubting Cassy’s parentage. Belinda could have cried with frustration. She opened her mouth to explain but, as if sensing her distress, George gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. ‘My full name is George Cade Lawson,’ he said quietly. ‘But when I was at Sandhurst there were several Georges in my year and I was known by my middle name. The only people who ever called me George were my father and your mother. The memory of our love was sacred to me and it was too painful to hear others using my Christian name. When I first opened the home I became Captain Cade. It was never meant to deceive, it just came about.’

  Belinda held her breath, but she could see that Cassy was shocked and wary as a stray cat faced with a new owner. ‘Aren’t you ha
ppy for me, darling?’ she said anxiously. ‘I know it will take time to get used to the idea, but we’ll be a real family at last.’

  ‘They’re sitting at table,’ Cassy said stonily. ‘Aunt Flora sent me to tell you that Mr Mullins is carving the turkey.’ Turning on her heel, she left the room.

  Belinda made as if to follow her but Cade caught her by the wrist. ‘Let her go, my love. Give her time to get used to the idea of having me as her father.’ He pulled Belinda into his arms, gazing into her eyes. ‘I can hardly believe it myself.’

  His kiss was everything that Belinda had dreamed about and more. When they drew apart she met his tender gaze and saw the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago, unscarred and handsome. ‘Never leave me again, George,’ she murmured.

  ‘I don’t intend to, Belle. I’ll get a special licence and we can be married next week, if you agree.’

  ‘Next week? That’s too soon. I have arrangements to make and then there’s Flora. I can’t leave her to fend for herself. We’ve all had to work to support ourselves, George.’

  ‘Don’t you want to marry me, Belle?’

  ‘Of course I do, silly. I want nothing more in the whole world, but there are other people involved. There’s Cassy for one. We need to be gentle with her. She’s just a child.’

  Cade smiled and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘By my reckoning she’s about the same age as you were when you became a mother. Your little girl is a woman now, Belle. And unless I’ve mistaken, both Bailey and Oliver are aware of the fact. Perhaps it’s just as well they’re leaving for India the day after tomorrow, or who knows how the situation might have developed.’

  Belinda stared at him, shocked out of her euphoric state. ‘What are you saying?’

  He chuckled. ‘Unless I’ve misread the situation, those two young men are head over heels in love with our daughter.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Belinda said firmly. ‘Bailey is like a brother to Cassy and as for Ollie, he falls in and out of love on a regular basis. I think he’s far more interested in Lottie than in Cassy.’

  The door flew open before Cade had a chance to respond and Flora stood there, glaring at them, arms akimbo. ‘I think you’re both a bit old to be playing Romeo and Juliet. Are you joining us for luncheon or are you going to loiter in here like a pair of star-struck adolescents?’

  ‘You must forgive us, ma’am,’ Cade said, slipping his arm around Belinda’s shoulders. ‘We’ve only just found each other after what seems like an eternity.’

  ‘Then another hour or so won’t make much difference,’ Flora said tartly. ‘I’m as romantic as the next person, but you’re making the rest of us feel distinctly uncomfortable. Perhaps you should give more consideration to Cassy. She looks as though she’s been poleaxed, and I don’t wonder at it.’ Flora swept out of the room leaving the door swinging on its hinges.

  ‘We’re being very selfish, George,’ Belinda said guiltily. She forced herself to move from the shelter of his arm and made her way towards the door. ‘We must join the others and try to behave naturally.’

  He followed her, catching hold of her hand before she reached the hallway. He gave her fingers a squeeze. ‘It won’t be easy, but you’re right, my love. Perhaps we could spend tomorrow together?’

  She paused in the hallway, smiling up at him. ‘That would be lovely.’

  ‘I’ll call for you at ten o’clock.’

  The clock on the mantelshelf struck the quarter as Belinda waited by the parlour window, barely able to control her excitement as she waited for Cade’s barouche to arrive. She was alone in the house except for Mrs Wilkins. Flora had elected to stay on at the farm, ostensibly to help Farmer Mullins sort out his chaotic bookkeeping, although in her heightened emotional state Belinda was beginning to suspect that there might be a romance budding between the oddly assorted pair. Oliver, Bailey and Cassy had already left the house, taking Freddie with them. They planned, Oliver had said, to collect Lottie on the way to Victoria Park where the lake was reputedly frozen hard enough to allow them to skate. Tomorrow they would be embarking on a ship taking them to India but today they intended to enjoy themselves to the full.

  Belinda wished that she had been able to get Cassy on her own for a heart to heart, but there had been no opportunity during the Christmas celebrations at the farm, and Cassy had retired to bed as soon as they returned home. She had been quiet during breakfast, and had left with the others as soon as the meal was finished. Mrs Wilkins had said she was glad of a chance to put her feet up all day and do nothing. She had enjoyed herself immensely during her day out, but her bunions were playing up something chronic after joining in the dancing, accompanied by Dora on the harpsichord. Belinda closed her eyes, reliving the moments when George had held her in his arms as they waltzed around Farmer Mullins’ parlour. She had been in heaven then and now she felt like a young girl, waiting for her beau to take her out for the day. Only this time there would be no chaperone to accompany them and George was no longer just a beau; he was the husband of her heart if not in law.

  She gazed at the snowy scene outside. The houses opposite snuggled beneath roofs blanketed by pure white snow, and the pavements glistened in the pale morning sunlight. The dreary, dirty street had been transformed into a vision of pristine purity, but it was an illusion that would not last. By the end of the day, the gleaming surface of the road would be churned to black slush, but at this moment she felt she was in fairyland, and nothing could spoil her joy. She pressed her nose against the ice-cold windowpane and her breath fogged the glass in an instant. Giggling and feeling seventeen again, she drew her initials and George’s entwined together in a heart. Then, at the exact moment the clock struck ten, the barouche drew up alongside the kerb. Snatching up her bonnet and struggling into her merino mantle, Belle hurried from the parlour and ran to open the front door.

  He stood there in a caped greatcoat, momentarily blocking out the daylight. ‘Belle, my love.’ Taking off his top hat, he swept her into his arms, kissing her in full view of the neighbours across the street who had come out to take a closer look at the expensive equipage driven by a coachman in a many-caped greatcoat.

  Laughing, she pulled free, adjusting her bonnet. ‘George, you’ll have the whole street talking about us.’

  He handed her out across the pavement and into the barouche, climbing in beside her. ‘I want them to see us together,’ he said, wrapping her in a fond embrace. ‘I want the world to know that you and I will soon be husband and wife, never to be parted. That’s what you want, isn’t it, my love?’

  She snuggled against him. ‘Of course it is, but I want Cassy to get used to the idea before we rush into anything. She needs to get to know you, my darling, and to love you as I do.’

  ‘She’s our daughter and she must come first, but today is ours, my darling Belle.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘I want to show you my house, which will be our home but only if you approve. If not we’ll sell it and buy something more suitable. I’d like you to see the soldiers’ home too, and meet some of the men who live there. They loved Cassy and I know they’ll adore you too.’

  Cade’s house was situated in Lemon’s Terrace, Stepney Green, just a short way from the soldiers’ home. Belinda was ready to be impressed as she alighted outside the once elegant but slightly dilapidated three-storey, double-fronted Georgian town house. Iron railings surrounded the area leading down to the basement, and stone steps led up to the front door, where a sadly tarnished brass lion’s head doorknocker gazing soulfully into space. Cade took the steps two at a time in order to unlock the door and usher Belinda into the square entrance hall. She did not know what she was expecting as she stepped inside but she was surprised by the echoing emptiness of the large house. It smelt slightly damp and it was almost as cold inside as it was out on the pavement.

  ‘I haven’t done much to the house since I moved in four years ago,’ Cade said apologetically. ‘I don’t spend much tim
e here and I’m afraid I’ve concentrated all my efforts on the soldiers’ home.’ He took off his top hat and hung it on the newel post at the foot of a sweeping cantilevered staircase that was also in a sad state of repair. The mahogany banister rail was muddy with greasy fingerprints and the treads were dusty and in need of a good polish.

  ‘Come into the drawing room,’ Cade said, eyeing her warily. ‘I had Mrs Porter light a fire early this morning so it should be a bit warmer in there.’ As he opened a door on the far side of the hall the doorknob came away in his hand. ‘As you can see there is a bit of work to do on the old house.’

  He looked so downcast that Belinda struggled to find an encouraging remark. ‘It must have been a fine home when it was built.’ She had already lost the feeling in her toes and her fingertips were tingling from the cold, and she made her way to the marble fireplace where the coal burned feebly, sending out occasional belches of smoke and filling the air with smuts. It barely took the chill off the large room, which was light and would be pleasantly airy in summer. The floor to ceiling windows were draped with faded velvet curtains which might once have been a delightful shade of blue, but were now grey with age and brown-tinged with dust blown in from the street. The only furniture was a slightly saggy sofa and a wingback chair set close to the fireplace. Placed beneath one of the windows a console table groaned with papers, magazines and a jumble of books.

  ‘It needs a woman’s touch,’ Cade said sheepishly. ‘But the rooms are well proportioned and . . .’ He hesitated, gazing at her with a frown puckering his brow. ‘You hate it, don’t you?’

  Belinda threw back her head and laughed. ‘Of course I don’t hate it, George. It’s just going to take a small army of women to clean it and a great deal of money to refurbish it, to say nothing of the cost of carpets and new furniture. Perhaps we should sell it and get something smaller and cheaper to renovate.’