Even as she spoke, she thought that this was unlikely, but it was the right thing to do and also the Earl might understand how desperately Lynne wanted to go on riding if only for a few more days.
“If I do that,” Lynne asked, “will you suggest to him, Mariota, that he leaves Daffodil here, until he goes back to London?”
“I will try,” Mariota replied, “but I cannot really make any promises.”
“I suppose that is better than nothing!” Lynne said. “But whether he comes back or not, we shall miss him.”
“Yes, we shall – miss him,” Mariota agreed, but she was not certain whether she said it aloud or in her heart.
When she went to bed, she had thought that she would cry, but instead she lay in the darkness thinking that she was past tears.
All she could think of was the Earl’s face when he had told her that he loved her and the pain in his eyes, which she realised now she had seen before when he looked at her as she moved about his room or when she read to him.
She had not understood at the time what he was feeling, but now, because she felt the same, she knew that in losing him she lost half of herself.
‘I love him! I love him!’ she thought miserably and cried out to her mother feeling that she alone would understand.
Because, just as there had been for her mother, there would be only ever be one man in her life.
*
Just before dawn came, Mariota slept a little from sheer exhaustion, then awoke with a start to find that it was after eight o’clock and she had missed giving Lynne her breakfast and seeing her off to The Grange.
It was a very unusual thing for her to do and yet this morning it did not seem to matter.
Instead of dressing quickly and rushing down the stairs, she lay thinking that she was afraid of facing what lay ahead and having to watch the Earl drive away in his phaeton.
For one moment she thought that she could not face it.
She would go and hide in the wood until he had gone or perhaps lock herself in the unused part of the house among the dust and the cobwebs.
Then she thought it would only make it worse for him and it suddenly seemed as if he was more like her son than the man she loved and she wanted to protect him and save him from being hurt or unhappy.
“I do want him to be happy,” she said aloud.
Yet she realised that the agony of knowing he would marry Lady Elizabeth was like a thousand knives being turned in her heart and the pain was almost unbearable.
She dressed herself slowly and was nearly ready when old Jacob, wheezing from coming up the stairs, knocked on the door.
When Mariota opened it, she saw that he carried a huge box in his arms and, as she stared at it in surprise, she suddenly remembered what it contained.
“There be four of these downstairs, Miss Mariota,” Jacob said. “I’ll bring ’em up for you, if you like, but it be a tirin’ job.”
“No, leave them for the moment,” Mariota answered, “and I will ask Mr. Jeremy to help you with them.”
“Thank you, miss,” Jacob said. “Me legs ain’t what they used to be.”
It was inscribed on the outside in fulsome writing with the name of the shop from which it had come and she knew that this was the present the Earl had insisted on giving her after he had persuaded her to provide him with her measurements and Lynne’s.
‘A parting present,’ she thought bitterly.
Then when she opened the box she gave a gasp.
Inside were two gowns – so beautiful and so different from anything she had ever worn before.
They were both in pale pastel shades that she knew became her and, because they were day gowns, it took a little time for her to decide which to wear, knowing it would be unlikely that the Earl would ever see her wearing the other one.
Finally she chose the gown of very pale ‘love-in-a-mist’ blue, which seemed to accentuate the whiteness of her skin, the silver in her hair and the depth of her grey eyes.
It was trimmed with shadow lace and, when she put it on, she felt almost as if it had been fashioned by magic fingers and she looked like a nymph that had risen from the lake or a fairy dropped down from the sky.
She stood in front of the mirror and would have been very foolish if she had not realised that she looked lovelier than she had ever looked before.
Gasping with pleasure, she realised that the dress accentuated her curves and perfect figure.
‘It is how I want him to remember me,’ she thought and the pain in her heart took away the light from her eyes.
Slowly she went downstairs and, as she had expected, the dining room was empty and the rest of the family had eaten and gone.
The single egg left was cold and unappetising, but she ate a little of the delicious ham the chef had sent from Madresfield and drank a cup of cold coffee to go with it.
Then, being careful not to spoil her new gown, she cleared the breakfast things as she always did and carried them into the kitchen.
“How many’ll there be for luncheon?” Mrs. Brindle enquired.
“I don’t know whether Mr. Jeremy will be back, but I expect so,” Mariota replied, “and that should make it three.”
“Mr. Hicks says as he thinks his Lordship’ll be leavin’ this mornin’,” Mrs. Brindle remarked conversationally.
“Yes – I expect he will,” Mariota replied.
She went from the kitchen into the drawing room to dust and tidy it as she always did.
The syringa in one of the vases was dropping and she thought as she looked down at the petals scattered on the polished table that they were like tears.
Then she told herself it was foolish to think of such things, trying to remember that when the Earl came to say goodbye she must control her feelings and not to add to his unhappiness.
It was a long time later when she was wondering what was happening upstairs that the door opened and the Earl came in.
He was looking magnificent, as she had expected he would, and for the moment she could only stare at him as he stood in the doorway feeling her voice had died in her throat.
Then he closed the door and came towards her saying,
“I knew you would be here.”
“I-I was – waiting for – you.”
“And thinking of me?”
“How could I – think of – anything else?”
The words seemed unnecessary and yet they were speaking them and all the time he was coming nearer to her.
When he was close, she looked up into his eyes and saw not only the pain in them but also the dark lines beneath them, which told her that he too had spent a sleepless night.
He stood looking at her for what seemed a long time.
Then he said,
“Yesterday, when I told you that I loved you, I did so deliberately in the wood so that it would be impossible for me to hold you close and kiss you as I wanted to.”
He paused before he went on in a voice that seemed raw with pain,
“I thought it would make it worse for us both, but now I cannot go away without kissing you, Mariota, without pretending for one moment of time that you are mine.”
“I-I shall – always be – yours.”
“Last night,” he went on, “I went through all the temptations of hell, knowing that you were so near to me and it would be easy for me to come to your room to tell you how much I loved you.”
“Why – did you – not do so?”
“Because, my precious darling, I love you not only as a woman, who God meant to be mine, but I also worship you as someone pure and sacred and I could not do anything to spoil you.”
Mariota gave a little murmur and, because the Earl’s eyes held hers captive, she could not speak and it was hard to breathe.
“Goodbye, my darling, my precious one, the only woman I have ever loved,” the Earl said brokenly.
Then slowly, as if he wished to remember exactly what was happening, he put his arms around her and drew her close against him.<
br />
Still slowly and very gently, as if he was touching a flower, his lips found hers.
To Mariota it was as if they moved to music and it was the music she had heard in her dreams.
She felt as if she was dreaming and, as the Earl’s lips touched hers, she felt as if he was carrying her slowly up into the sky and the light from the sun enveloped them both with a halo of glory.
Everything she had longed for and dreamt about, everything, which had seemed to her so beautiful that it lifted her heart and her mind, was there on his lips.
Then, as his arms instinctively tightened about her, as her mouth was very soft, sweet and innocent beneath his, his kiss became more possessive, more insistent and he drew her closer and closer still.
It was so wonderful, so perfect, so much part of her prayers, that it was like touching the stars and at the same time feeling the heat of the sun moving within her until shaft after shaft radiated out from her heart and through her lips and became part of the Earl.
As if he felt the same, he kissed her passionately, then wildly, frantically, as if he was fighting against losing her and yet knowing even as he did so that the battle was lost.
He raised his head and Mariota whispered breathlessly,
“I – love you – I love – you – how can I tell you how much I – love you?”
As if her words excited the Earl more than he was already, he pulled her closer to him again and kissed her eyes, her cheeks, the softness of her neck, then again her lips fiercely, passionately and insistently.
It was as if a tempest raged over her and yet she was not afraid. She only felt the sunshine within her turn to fire and she knew that it had been ignited by the fire within the Earl which was consuming them both.
This was love, a very human love and yet, because he loved her as if she was something sacred, she knew he would never hurt her.
Then, as if they both broke under the strain, the Earl released her to walk to the mantelpiece and stand holding onto it, staring down into the empty fireplace.
“Forgive me,” he said in a voice that did not sound like his own. “I did not mean this to happen. I am being selfish.”
“There is – nothing to forgive,” Mariota said. “I love you as you love me – but, oh, my darling, I do not want you to suffer.”
As she spoke, she felt him draw in his breath.
Then, as she looked up at him, she saw the agony in his face and the lines that seemed to be etched so sharply that he seemed immeasurably older than he had before.
“I must leave you,” he said. “To stay here is to torture us both. It is wrong and yet I find it hard to say simply ‘goodbye’.”
“Perhaps it is – something we should – not say,” Mariota faltered. “Perhaps we should have – faith that one day we may – find each other again.”
Even as she spoke, she knew it was a forlorn hope.
Lady Elizabeth was very young, in fact a year younger than her, and once the Earl was married only death could separate them. And how could she wish another young woman dead? For that was the only way that happiness could come to her now.
There was silence as they stood gazing at each other.
Then he said,
“Let me look at you, so that I can remember how you look at this moment! That is something that nobody can take from me.”
“I-I am wearing the gown you gave me.”
It was an effort for the Earl to take his eyes from hers and look down at the gown, but then he said,
“You are very lovely in it, but to me you have never looked anything else. You have always been clothed in dreams.”
“That is where we shall meet – at night,” Mariota said softly, “I shall dream of you and if you will dream of me perhaps – we shall feel that we are together.”
As if once again her words snapped the Earl’s self-control, he said harshly,
“I don’t want you in my dreams, I want you in my arms and your body close to mine. I want to talk to you, to listen to the music in your voice when you say you love me – ”
“I do love you,” Mariota sighed, “and because I love you I know that you will do many great and good – things in the – world.”
“But not without you,” the Earl protested. “You know I can do nothing without you.”
He stared at her and now there was a different look in his eyes from what there had been before.
Then he said,
“Dammit! Why are we crucifying ourselves in this idiotic way? Come away with me, Mariota, as I have asked you to. Our elopement will be a nine days wonder, then everybody will talk about something else.”
As he spoke, he put out his hand towards her and Mariota knew that she only had to take one step to touch him and tell him she would do as he asked.
She thought how marvellous it would be to be alone with him, even if nobody else in the world spoke to them.
“In a year who will remember what happened today?” the Earl asked. “Elizabeth is young, beautiful and rich. There will be plenty of men only too willing to marry her and she is not in love with me any more that I am in love with her.”
His voice was very beguiling as he went on,
“Come with me, Mariota, come with me, my darling, and we will be in Heaven together and close the gates so that nothing unpleasant can intrude on our happiness.”
There was silence and then Mariota said,
“You know I want to be with you – you know I love you – and just as you did not come to my – bedroom last night – I know that I cannot let you do something that is wrong!”
Her voice broke, but she continued,
“Because you are so important – so much admired, it would cause those who follow your lead also to do – things that are wrong or even commit – crimes they would not – otherwise have thought of doing.”
She drew in her breath before she added,
“That is the responsibility of being who you are – not only as an Earl, but as a man – as a personality and a – great Englishman.”
She was not choosing the words she spoke, they somehow came to her mind almost as if they were put there, but she knew as she spoke them that they were true and neither of them could deny it.
The Earl was still.
Then he said,
“If that is what you want and believe is right, my perfect one, then I must abide by it.”
There was a note of sadness in his voice and Mariota thought it was even more persuasive than when he pleaded with her, but she knew that all she really wanted was to be in his arms.
She did not move and after a moment the Earl walked to the door and opened it.
Mariota waited and then she heard him say,
“Is that you, Jacob? Will you go to the stables and tell them I want my phaeton brought round immediately.”
“Very good, my Lord!”
Mariota heard old Jacob’s feet shuffling across the floor and the Earl came back to the drawing room closing the door behind him.
He walked to her side, put his arms around her and drew her to the window.
She suddenly felt exhausted as if she had passed through a tornado and she laid her head against his shoulder.
He did not speak and they just stood there looking out into the untidy garden with the flowers and shrubs growing wildly and beyond where the lake reflected the blue of the sky, which seemed to echo the gown that Mariota was wearing.
Because the Earl’s arm was around her and she was close to him, she felt as if they were one person and their vibrations joined with each other.
She was sure too that the melody she heard in her mind was also in the Earl’s.
They stood there for what seemed a very long time.
Then he said,
“You will pray for me?”
“You know I – will.”
“I shall need your prayers, for without them I may fail to do all the things you expect of me, but I promise you I shall always be thinking ‘this is what Mariota
wants of me, this is what she would wish me to do’.”
“You will never fail – in anything you – undertake,” Mariota said softly.
“Only in the one that matters,” the Earl replied bitterly.
Again there was silence.
Then, as they heard footsteps outside in the hall and the door opened, they moved apart and old Jacob came plodding down the room.
“I went to the stables, my Lord,” he said to the Earl, “but your Lordship’s phaeton ain’t there and the groom says when your Lordship asked for it, he were to send this letter into the house for Miss Mariota.”
The Earl did not speak and Mariota thought with a feeling of dismay that Jeremy must have borrowed the phaeton and not yet returned with it.
It was the sort of prank he would play, expecting, she supposed, that the Earl would not be leaving before luncheon. Yet she thought she had told him that he might go during the morning.
She took the note from Jacob’s hand wondering who had written to her.
Then, as he slowly went from the room, she said to the Earl,
“I am sorry – very sorry – but I am sure Jeremy – will not be long.”
Because she felt how embarrassing it was that her brother should have imposed on the Earl in such an inconsiderate manner, she did not look at him but down at the note she held in her hand.
To her surprise she saw that it was addressed in Jeremy’s handwriting.
She thought perhaps it was to explain where he had gone and how long he would be away.
Feeling angry that he should be so inconsiderate, she opened the letter quickly and found that it contained two pages.
It began,
“Dearest Mariota,
When you receive this I shall be married and I suppose you will have to apologise to his Lordship that I have taken his phaeton and will be unable to return it for sometime – ”
Mariota gave a little gasp and then read on,
“I fell in love with Elizabeth as soon as I saw her and she with me, and thanks to the Earls stallion we have been seeing each other every available moment of the day.
When you told me yesterday that the Earl might leave this morning, I realised my only chance of preventing his engagement to Elizabeth from being announced publicly was to marry her first. I arranged everything with the Reverend Dowty who is so old and doddery that he has no idea that ‘Miss Mary Elizabeth Field’ is the Duke’s daughter and of course as he has known me all my life, he has made no difficulties about performing the ceremony and thinks that the reason for such secrecy is that Elizabeth is in mourning.
Wish for Love Page 12
