Steady droplets of moisture emerged to speak more than words ever could, but Thomas was experiencing his own pain and it blinded him to Laura’s suffering.
Laura’s deception had injured Thomas, erasing his ability to reason; irrational thinking substituted normal calm. He was inconsolable. He sought to satisfy his emotions, longing to reclaim the intimacy that they had once enjoyed.
His energy drained, Thomas released Laura and she crumpled to the ground. He waited for an indiscernible amount of time as though expecting something more from her, but when nothing was forthcoming, he left Laura to her own deceitful company.
Laura later wrote of her trial.
“The deception that must be woven appears to have no end. The casualties are many.”
#
Lady Emily witnessed the tender scene as it unfolded from the security of her chamber, her window serving as the portal from which she had viewed the stage. Laura’s grief had given her immeasurable pleasure. Had anyone asked her for money, she would have willingly paid for the enjoyment.
However, her smile soon faded when her earlier conversation with Henry again dominated her thoughts. Her husband, and she used the term loosely, was repugnant to her. Not only did she hold him to be a failure in her bed but he had also sired a bastard right under her nose. If she had ever she hated anyone in her life, it was he.
Compensation, even under the most trying of circumstances, can be uncovered if you look hard enough. Lady Emily’s initial confrontation with Sarah had gone her way. She had loved every minute of the whore’s cowering. “I beg of you, Lady Emily, I am an innocent and have no interest in his lordship or his money. I will do anything you ask.” Yes, the sight of Sarah begging her for forgiveness was a bonus that she had not counted on.
Laura had proved to be another matter, a barb that remained to taunt her. The tough ones were always easy to negate; it was the Lauras of this world, with their noble sacrificing and rampant virginity, that were hard to crack. The overall success of her clever manoeuvring had been ruined by the creature’s penchant for self-sacrifice. The stupid woman had forfeited her freedom and now, it seems, also her lover for the child. She would never understand Laura’s reasoning.
Lady Emily stored the tender scene for later use. She had not finished with Henry’s trollop or her sister.
Laura, it appeared, was no longer unworthy of Lady Emily’s attention, and had become the focal point of both husband and wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - New Beginnings
The wharf was crowded and the day bleak, no different from the tedious others that winter produced. Laura felt insignificant, buried in the layers of bodies that pushed and shoved around her, a crowd so dense that only ear piercing noises could be heard above the throng.
The imperial mass loomed above the swarm of people that crawled around its impressive bulk. The ship groaned, pulling at its restraints, as everyone worked towards a common goal - to set the ship free upon the ocean.
“Sarah, will you not reconsider? The hour has not grown too late.” Laura’s closing attempt to sway her sister from leaving had failed, but in one last uncharacteristic move, Sarah held Laura close and then she was gone.
Nestled in an array of blankets in Laura’s arms, blissfully unaware of her mother’s desertion, the baby was given no such recognition or respect.
Guilt had not entered Sarah’s world, the lone thought of her baby used solely to apportion blame. Her figure had not returned to its previous best, and she held the child personally responsible for her disfigurement.
Lord Henry had forsaken Sarah. The baby had not contaminated his thoughts; he had vacated her bed long before that accident had become known. Still, as he had not bothered with her, Sarah in turn had not troubled herself with his child. It was this line of reasoning that kept everything tidy and heartache out of the picture. Sarah learned from her mistakes, they were never repeated.
Giddy with anticipation, Sarah watched as the wind amassed beneath the sails, ready to sweep her out to sea and away from her past. She did not look back; she could only have spoilt her happiness by doing so.
Sarah gave a final thought to Lady Emily, who had become her unexpected ally, a very sensible woman who had recognised the value of obtaining an heir without the pain of childbirth. Lady Emily had made it quite clear that she would not succumb to that degradation.
Sarah had grave doubts about Lady Emily’s sanity. Ashley Manor had secrets, and when she had imparted news of her find to Lady Emily, she had witnessed a crazed reaction. In truth, the woman had scared her. However the lady’s mental state was none of her business, but what did interest her was the copious amount of money that she had earned by relating her tale.
The horizon was in decline when Sarah sanctioned one last glance at the shoreline. She had to be certain that Laura, with her bundle locked to her pathetic breast, had disappeared into obscurity.
Her wretched sister owed her thanks for the child, an encumbrance that would feed the woman’s self-sacrificing penchant. A faint shred of affection arose in her for Laura - the perfect scapegoat. And as England blended into history, Sarah knew there would be no regrets.
#
As Hope lay sleeping in her crib, Laura re-read the record of her birth, drawing consolation from the words that greeted her.
“Today, the greatest treasure I could ever imagine was presented to me and, adding to my pleasure, I have also been privileged to name the baby. I have chosen ‘Hope’. My reasoning is that one must believe that there is eternal hope, even on the bleakest of days, for how else would we mere mortals survive our trials?
Hope has a crown of dark hair that favours her mother, but I can see that the green of my eyes will soon develop and as I look upon her, she is worth the sacrifices.”
Laura held her pen at the ready to enter the words prompted by Sarah’s departure.
“Being afraid of tomorrow, while still unable to look back, places one in a precarious situation. But today I take great pride in understanding that I have an inner strength that does not rely on others. My tomorrows, while indeed frightening, shall be accompanied by the gift of, Hope, and that shall sustain me in the times to come.”
#
At Marlbrook, Thomas, a dinner guest of Henry’s, sat across the table from Emily. Thomas smiled in recognition of Lady Emily’s more than obvious flirtations, but as he was aware of her so too was the woman of him.
The man intrigued Lady Emily, with his black eyes that promised to burn with lust in the bedroom, the pleasurable thought making her squirm. But Thomas was becoming tiresome, and she of all people had no need to beg.
The scene of Thomas’ rejection by the harlot Laura came to mind, the re-enactment strengthening her want. Nobody in Lady Emily’s twenty years had ever dared deny her, not even her parents had crossed that line. She would consider it a foolhardy gesture of anyone to even try. However, if Thomas prolonged his game of abstinence, then she would have to see to it that he paid a price for his failure.
After dinner, the conversation moved to more intimate surroundings. The setting insured the would-be star the limelight. Lady Emily, like her husband, was used to getting what she wanted, and the people she hurt in the process were never considered.
“Pray tell me, Lord Ashley,” Lady Emily stated in a loud voice, the volume intended to capture the attention of everyone in the room. “I had quite forgotten, until my dearest mother-in-law reminded me, that you were acquainted with her former servant woman. What was her name, husband?”
Lord Henry spluttered into his drink, partially spilling the contents before voicing his reply. “If you cannot furnish something so insignificant, my dear wife, then how can you rely upon me?”
The question was clearly stated in the expectation that the interrogation would end there. His wife was up to something, and Lord Henry had no desire to find out “what” in such a public place.
Lady Emily did not heed his warning and continued on her pre-set course. “It
was some common name - oh, do help me someone or I shall be tempted to withhold my wonderful gossip. Rachel or Laura or something?” Lady Emily would not have her amusement spoilt by her husband’s stupidity.
“What, oh yes, yes, I think it was Laura,” Lord Henry managed, hating his wife with some intensity while imaging his hands tightly clasped around her slender throat.
“There is a purpose to my question, husband, as someone has spread a dreadful rumour claiming that the woman was caught-out. Apparently, her promiscuity has ended with her getting herself with child, hence obliging her to vanish from our home. Is that not so, my dear?”
All the while, Lady Emily watched Thomas, waiting for his reaction to expose him. He did not fail her. His eyes betrayed him, their story confirming the path to his torment.
Lady Emily’s relationship with her husband had not declined, as that implied they had established an affiliation, but their union had never shared mutual ground. While still on honeymoon the novelty had waned, and it was naught but pure fantasy to think that it could have been otherwise. They had partaken of London’s diversions separately, their marriage of convenience necessitating that she adapt.
Her mother, a very practical woman, had made sure that her daughter was well versed in the demands of wedlock, both in and out of the marriage bed. Anyway, she had always envisaged making love to one man as boring and fatal even to the best of alliances, the tedium alone would be sufficient to drive two people apart. She could expect no more from her husband than he could from her.
Thomas sat at the card table watching the play develop, as each in turn delivered their lines, the actors who had prepared for their roles were obvious. Lady Emily's talons were visible from across the room.
Laura’s sudden rejection had devastated Thomas, and his mending had been slow. He regretted his cruel treatment of Laura. The vision of their parting placed his resentment fresh before him, compelling him to examine the truth of Laura’s child, the real reason, he assumed, that she had removed herself from his life. Confessions of her love for another had never been voiced, instead Laura had chosen to suffer at his hands rather than declare an untruth. He had proved himself to be called fool.
Slowly, Thomas lifted his glass in a silent toast to the father, a very lucky man, and cursed him for all eternity in the same breath.
The real story of what had happened to Laura would one day be Thomas’; however, that did not alter the certainty that he had lost Laura, the one woman who had managed to stir his heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - Consequences
“The child has grown another inch and reached the milestone of six months without serious illness and for this I am thankful.
I am not lonely, with Hope as company. She has shown me the way a child’s smile can bring happiness to one’s life. But my joy is tempered by the regret that my decisions made a long time ago will soon be called upon to be fulfilled. I admit that I do not know if I have the strength to comply.
There is still no news of my sister, but I have faith and pray that fortune may be kind and intervene on our behalves. That one experience can affect so many lives is something I constantly question.
The demands made upon me by the baby have helped to subdue painful memories. My child, for that is what Hope has become, and what fate has in store for her is now my concern.
I continue to find this thing I call fate as bewildering as ever.”
#
The carriage had come to a halt in the narrow lane located to the front of the cottage. Laura had finished her midday meal, ready to settle the child for her afternoon nap, when the neighing of horses alerted her to its presence. Laura reacted with haste. Strangers could be a threat to their safety. Peering from her window, she searched for some form of recognition.
A cloaked figure made its way along the dirt track, and begrudgingly Laura unbarred the door. Laura retrieved the child from her cot and held her close.
Lady Emily did not bother to knock or request an audience. The unwelcome visitor drew a sharp intake of breath, as she caught sight of her husband’s child. The baby stared at her through the identical green of Laura’s eyes. The rest of her, no court would contest, belonged to her father. Sarah’s contribution to date had been the colour of her hair.
“I see the child takes after its father then,” Lady Emily stated, launching her first attack.
“Yes, she does favour her father.”
Lady Emily dispensed with manners, her contempt for Laura openly displayed along with her repulsion for the child.
Laura had been through too much of late to allow this shallow woman to intimidate her. She pitied Lady Emily. The vain creature had beauty and enjoyed wealth in sufficient quantities to keep her constantly amused; however, she also had a husband that did not care for her. Laura acknowledged that there were many casualties in this charade.
“Tell me then, for I am interested to know if you have you heard from your professed saviour, Lord Ashley, of late?” Lady Emily’s sneering grin added a threatening touch.
“There are no grounds that I know of that would prompt Lord Ashley to contact me.”
Again, Lady Emily goaded Laura. “Oh! I do believe that you are deliberately trying to mislead me. But you see, Laura, I have personally witnessed two past episodes that clearly indicate your relationship is more than, shall we say, friendship.”
Laura refused to be drawn into a contest that required her to demonstrate her private thoughts.
“No, I have not seen Lord Ashley.”
Lady Emily brushed haughtily past Laura, feigning interest in the meagre surroundings, grabbing at objects before dropping them in disgust.
“You can pretend all you like but let me inform you that your petty tricks do not fool me. You see, Lord Ashley has asked after you on several occasions. His concern, unlike yours, is openly professed.” Lady Emily used a direct approach to shock. “I confess that I am disturbed that a Lord of such high standing, particularly one of the calibre of Lord Ashley, should have succumbed to a creature that has so little to offer.”
Lady Emily located an ornament to trifle with while she carried out her damaging attack. “Let us be honest in undertaking this assessment. What could a woman like you possibly add to the life a man of consequence? After all, you do not hold the allure of him in your bed, nor can it be said that your beauty is uncommon enough to make him forget his station.”
Laura’s journal entries had proved unhelpful in Thomas’ case, and the memories of him had not dimmed with time. Their final parting had brought with it nothing but sorrow.
No one would look favourably upon her circumstances and few personages would ever know that the child was not hers. In making her decision, Laura had to accept the cost. Raising false hopes was redundant.
“Lord Ashley saved my life,” Laura stated factually, “as you already know, and I remain forever in his debt. His inquiries would be of a general nature and your reading more into them is a fallacy.” Laura determined to end things there, but Lady Emily had other ideas.
“Lord Ashley did more than inquire, he was quite adamant that he would locate you. So deny all you want.” Lady Emily’s features contorted into an ugly grin. She enjoyed baiting Laura and deliberately paused before delivering the next injury. “But rest assured I have not told him about you, my dear. I do not think that even he would hold you in favour, given your current state of affairs.”
Laura tired of the subject. More emotion had been spent than anyone could be expected to bear, and she would not give this woman, like her husband before her, the satisfaction of viewing her suffering.
“You are correct in your assumptions. There is no point in him knowing, for it would serve no purpose.”
“No, it would not,” Lady Emily agreed, all too quickly, before adding, “Not yet, anyway. Of course, with his new bride with child so soon after their wedding, I am sure he would not have any time to devote to you and your bastard child.”
Lady Emily waited until
she saw pain exhibited upon Laura’s features. She would not leave without her prize.
The silence Lady Emily left in her wake was deafening.
#
Lord Thomas Ashley married Miss Maureen Illingworth on a beautiful day in late March, the early spring eager to emerge and bestow its blessings upon the happy couple.
Maureen’s raven hair was curled under a traditional hairpiece, the simplicity of her ensemble highlighting the grace of her design. Maureen was a woman very much in love.
Thomas also appeared content, finally released from the sheer physical want of Laura. His search, futile to the end, produced little else other than frustration. Failure was a lesson hard taught and one not familiar to him.
Hate had become his enemy, not his ally as first thought, and mindless notions of vengeance had afflicted him. Rationalisation had eventually occurred when he acknowledged the contradictions that had existed. The note declaring his intentions, he suspected, had never reached its objective, and Laura’s ardour had equalled his before he had abused her trust. His conclusion - he had denied himself and Laura of a future by not challenging her motives.
Eventually, under Maureen’s influence, Thomas had calmed his devils, and in due course he had even found it in his heart to be glad that Laura had married. Whatever the particulars of the child’s conception, he or she had a father and Laura was safe.
Maureen was blessed with a classic beauty, one that contained a fragile tinge, lending one to want to protect the owner from any of the world’s confrontational aspects. However, her disposition, shy and non-threatening, deceived everyone; her devotion to Thomas had been declared with fervour.
Thomas had resisted Maureen’s advances for months, but having someone so agreeable on hand, who presented few demands, had simply broken down his opposition to the idea. As his last hopes of finding Laura faded, Thomas had proposed.
Journey's End (Marlbrook) Page 14
