Ned was there, taking the horse's bridle. He did not speak, merely touched his hat. Haggard held the girl's arm, took her into the lower hall. The maids came scurrying, out of the pantry, gathered in a group at the far end.
Haggard nodded to them. 'I will need a hot bath,' he said. 'For this young lady. Start boiling up. Half an hour.'
'Yes, sir, Mr. Haggard.' They continued to stare. Haggard released Mary Prince's arm, indicated the stairs. She peered at the other girls for a moment—no doubt she knew them all, as they knew her—then scurried up the steps. Coal dust scattered on to the floor.
Haggard walked behind her. 'And the next flight,' he said, as she paused on the landing. She looked down at him, then resumed her climb. He watched her feet disappearing above his head. He was back in Haggard's Penn, with Emma and Annie Kent above him. Emma and Annie Kent. He wondered where they were now, what they were doing. What they were thinking. But with this girl there would be no need for ropes. And no risk of daggers after.
'Father.' Alice ran along the corridor, Charlie as usual tumbling at her heels. 'Father.' Her cheeks were stained with tears. 'Mama was at school to say goodbye.'
'She said she was going away,' Charlie accused.
'She has gone away,' Haggard said.
They stopped, faces slowly crumpling.
'Your mother has gone away,' Haggard repeated. 'It was her choice. But you're here with me. There is naught to concern yourselves with. There is cake for your tea.'
He reached the second floor, looked down. They stared after him, tears running down their cheeks. He realised he did not even know the name of their new nurse. But he had no time for them this night. Mary Prince was waiting, hands clasped in front of her, looking at the dust which was gathering about her.
'I'm awful dirty, your worship.'
The floor can be cleaned.' He stepped past her, opened the bedroom door. 'In here.'
She hesitated, then stepped past him. Haggard closed the door.
Take off your cloak.' His voice was thick as he lit the candle, set it on the table, turned to face her. She held the cloak in her hands, uncertain where to lay it. The floor will do.'
The cloak slipped to the floor. She faced him, inhaling slowly. Suddenly he did not know how to continue, what her reaction was going to be. Slowly he took off his own coat, pulled his cravat free. He watched her tongue come out, lick coal dust from her lips.
'I'm awful dirty,' she said again.
'Yes,' he said. That's what I want from you. Dirt.' He undressed, quickly, while she stood there and gazed at him. 'Have you seen a man before?'
'I've seen me dad,' she said.
He realised with a disturbing start that her dad was probably no older than himself. But nothing would stop him now. Haste, haste, haste. He stripped off his stockings, threw them behind his shoes, took her in his arms. Coal dust, and woman, clutched against him. Her breasts were big enough to feel, her groin squirmed against his, trapping his penis between, bringing it even harder. He threw her on the bed, lay on her. She tried to kiss him but he did not want to kiss. He thrust his hands beneath her, held her buttocks, lifted her up while he found her slit and drove himself inwards. He waited for a cry or a moan, and found only her eyes, huge and glooming at him, and her mouth, vaguely open, and coal dust, scattering across the snow-white sheets. He came in a tremendous explosion of pent-up passion and anger and self-disgust, throbbed on her belly for some seconds, then lay on it, listened to her gasping for breath.
He rolled away from her, lay on his back. Christ, he thought. What have I done? He had not thought that for a very long time
Mary Prince sat up. 'Must I go, now, sir?'
Haggard turned his head, frowned at her. Sanity was back in control, and it was necessary to lay plans, correct mistakes. He got up, went to his trousers, felt in the pockets, discovered a guinea. He held it out, and she stared at it for a moment before taking it.
'You'll be a housemaid here,' he said. 'And every time you . . . you come in here with me, I'll give you one of those.'
'Cor,' Mary said, and lifted it up to give it a gentle bite. ‘Cor. Me mum will like that.'
'You'll not tell your mum,' Haggard said. 'Or there'll be no more guineas. You'll tell her I offered you a job, here.'
Her head lifted; the coin was already secured inside her fist.
'Do you understand me, Mary?'
'Yes, sir, your worship.' She stood up.
There's a bath waiting for you, downstairs. Have it. Then tell the girls to find you something to wear. Then you can go home and explain to your mum.'
'Yes, sir, your worship.'
Haggard looked down at himself. Coal dust stained his chest, his belly, his penis. Something he had wanted since he had first seen those children. Something he now had experienced.
Then what had she experienced? Why, nothing at all. She was stooping to pick up her coat; there was no blood, and she had shown no discomfort. Thirteen years old?
'Who've you known before?'
She straightened. 'Well, your worship, we all sleeps in the one bed . . .'
Haggard frowned at her. 'You've brothers?' 'Oh no, your worship. Just me sister, and me mum and dad.' 'By Christ,' Haggard said. 'By Christ.' He sat on the bed. 'But I'll not tell me dad,' Mary Prince said, ‘I'll not give him the money.'
'Aye,' Haggard said. 'You keep the money. We'll share a secret, Mary.'
'Yes, sir, your worship.' She looked pleased.
And I am dirty, Haggard thought. Dirty, dirty, dirty. 'When you go down, Mary,' he said, 'tell the girls to send me up a hot bath as well.'
As if it mattered. Had he not always known that incest was a fact of life in the logies at Haggard's Penn? That these people happened to have white skins was irrelevant, however much it had confused him. He was John Haggard. He was, in the eyes of English public opinion, the greatest blackguard on earth. He need fear the criticism of no man, after that.
Then what of woman? This he must find out. But he could not do so while looking over his shoulder. And how he wanted her, now. Because she was beautiful, and because she was of his own class, and because she would not submit to his every wish. And because she was clean. There was an indictment of his past relationships with women.
The grooms took his bridle, and he dismounted, stiffly. He had ridden from Derleth at the same breakneck speed, after only a day at home. Each muscle in his body seemed to have a life of its own; he had not even been to his rooms to change. It occurred to him that since arriving in England he had been doing little but galloping from here to there, pursuing, or running, chasing the Haggard image, or attempting to escape it. Now was a time to call a halt, to settle his life into the calm, confident, omnipotent mould he had known in Barbados. And the first essential towards accomplishing that goal was to have at his side a wife who would support him in everything he wished.
'Mr. Haggard, sir,' said the butler. 'Will you come up, please?'
Haggard gave his hat and coat and riding crop to a footman, followed the butler up the stairs. Alison waited at the top; she wore a pale blue gown with a niched hem, and her hair was loose.
'Mr. Haggard. Is all well at Derleth?' Her tone suggested genuine interest.
Haggard took her hand and kissed it. How good she smelt. He had never known a woman with so beautiful a scent. 'All is well, Alison. All is better than it has ever been.'
She gave him a quick frown, then gently extracted her hand from his, led him into the withdrawing room. 'You'll take a glass?'
‘In fifteen minutes.'
She nodded, thoughtfully. 'You'll bring in some wine, Partridge. In fifteen minutes.'
'Of course, Miss Alison.' Partridge closed the doors behind him.
Alison stood before the fire, facing Haggard. Her hands were clasped before her. 'You look like a man who has ridden all night.'
‘I have ridden all night.' He stepped closer. 'Alison, I wish you to marry me.'
'Mr. Haggard?' She sounded genuinely shocked, a
nd Haggard, reaching for her, checked.
‘I had supposed you regarded me with some favour.'
'I do. But . . . you have not spoken with Papa.'
‘I am a Barbadian, remember.' He held her hands, brought them towards him, pressed together, ‘I must have an assent from your lips, not forced by your father.'
She smiled. 'My father would force me into nothing, Mr. Haggard.'
'Well, then . . .'
‘I have explained to you my feelings, Mr. Haggard.' She did not - seek to free herself, this time.
'And I have understood them, Alison. Listen. You will have heard I am building a new house?'
'All London has heard that, Mr. Haggard. At outrageous expense.'
'A house fit only for the most beautiful girl in the country, Alison. A house being built especially for you. And you will be mistress of it, Alison. No one else.'
Alison freed her hands, very gently, sat down in the chair by the fire. 'And the present manor house?'
'I shall probably pull it down. The new one will be complete by the autumn. We could be married then.'
Alison appeared to consider. Then she raised her head, looked directly into his eyes. 'What has happened to Miss Dearborn?'
‘I have sent her away.'
'A sudden decision.'
'One to which I have been inclining for some time.' 'But a decision,' Alison Brand said. 'I am not a man to change my mind, Alison.' 'You've children,' she pointed out.
'My children. I'll not let them go. But you'll have children, Alison. I promise you that.' 'Not to inherit.'
There'll be enough to go round.' As her father had said, she had an old head on those beautiful shoulders, he thought. But did it matter? She was the woman he wanted, as much for her old and steady head as for her body and her lips, ‘I had supposed you wanted to,' he said.
'We must talk with Papa.'
'But you.' He knelt before her, held her hands again, brought them to his lips. 'Will you not say yes to me ‘now?'
She smiled. 'After we have spoken with Papa,' she said.
'Haggard.' Brand squeezed his hands. But his eyes would not meet Haggard's gaze, kept dropping away. 'Alison will have told you?'
'Oh, aye. Splendid news. What I've always hoped for.' Then I suggest you look the part.'
'You'll take a glass of port?' Brand pulled the bell. 'I've sent the girls out for the morning. Best, eh?'
'Of course,' Haggard agreed, and sat down, stretching his legs in front of him. ‘I’ll confess I am in no practice at playing the suitor.'
'So I have gathered.'
'But you've no objections?'
‘To you? Man, I'd choose no other. Ah, Partridge.' The port was poured, the decanter left between the two men. 'First things first, though. I'm a straight up man, Haggard. You'll have noticed that.'
‘Indeed I have,' Haggard said, somewhat drily.
‘If you'd not come to me, I'd have come to you.'
'About Alison?'
'Eh? God no. About you. You'd no trouble at Derleth?' 'None I couldn't handle.'
There's good news. The case has set London by its ears.' Haggard grinned at him, and drank some port. 'And I am the most unpopular man in the kingdom.'
Brand leaned forward, his face serious. 'True.' 'So you'd not see me as a son-in-law.'
‘I said, first things first. With a big programme in view, Billy Pitt doesn't want distractions.'
Haggard's turn to frown, ‘I'm not sure I understand you.'
'It's politics, you understand. I doubt you have such things in Barbados.'
'We have some.'
'Not like here. Tis the ladies, you know. Every one dabbling away, influencing their husbands. To say a man is a Tory is not to say he'll always support us. No, no. There's a deal of feeling that runs through this community, which will find expression.'
Haggard poured some more port. 'Brand, you are babbling. Come to the point.'
The point. Yes. Well, Billy feels, we all feel, that perhaps it would be best were you to absent yourself from Parliament for a while.' 'Eh?'
Brand produced a brightly coloured kerchief, wiped his forehead. 'Well, you see, Haggard, parliamentary procedure being what it is, the next time you appear in the House, in the immediate future that is, some damned Whig is going to put down a question about slavery, and slave owners being permitted to sit in the house . . . they're very devils. Next thing you'll be impeached, like that poor devil Hastings.'
'I have done nothing for which I can be impeached,' Haggard said. 'I have broken no laws. Nor can I be impeached, while I am a Member.'
‘True. True. But Billy feels there could be some terrible time wasting, and maybe some to be too closely identified with the Party.'
Haggard got up. 'No one mentioned this before? You were happy to have me. You knew I was a slave owner.'
'Don't go getting the wrong idea. I've nothing against a slave owner. None of us have. But we assumed you'd win your case. As you should have done. But there it is. Tis public opinion we have to consider. England is ruled by public opinion. Important.'
'So I'm to be ostracised, because a madman like Granville Sharp has stolen one of my people.'
‘Too strong,' Brand protested. 'Too strong. You wish to be a Tory, Haggard. The party comes before anything else. Before country.'
That's a damned unpatriotic thing to say,' Haggard said.
'Well, not before country,'' Brand said. 'If it came to that. But before anything else. And it's only for six months, Haggard. Billy is sure on that. It won't affect your seat. It's past Easter already. Soon Parliament will be rising for the summer. When they resume, in November, why, no one will even remember the name of James Middlesex. London is like that.'
Haggard finished his port, poured himself a fresh glass. 'And what of Alison?'
'My dear fellow, I am overjoyed. And it will work out rather well. You will have the time to prepare for the wedding.' He leaned forward, slapped Haggard on the knee. Tell your lawyer to prepare a settlement, and we'll consider it done.'
Perhaps, Haggard thought, if I offered sufficient money to Wilberforce, I'd even be allowed to take my seat in Parliament.
They sat around the table. At Brand's request Haggard had brought with him both Roeham the attorney and Cummings; they were on either side of him. Colonel Brand sat opposite, Alison on his right, his own attorney, by name of Wooding, on his left. It was more like a business conference than a wedding proposal. But then, it had always been a business proposal. Haggard realised. Why else should a girl like Alison wish to marry a man more than twice her age? But at the end of it all, she would belong to him. All of her.
She wore a highnecked pink gown, and this morning her hair was up as well, and concealed beneath a mob cap. Her face and neck were exposed, and utterly magnificent. There were pink spots in her cheeks, but he suspected these had been assisted by-rouge, as they neither deepened nor faded. He had no idea what might lie under the gown, save for the shadowy limbs he had seen beneath her nightdress. But he did not doubt for an instant. She would be his, at the end of it.
'Colonel Brand will settle upon his daughter an income of six hundred pounds a year,' Wooding said. 'It is a small sum, but the colonel is not a wealthy man. He hopes Mr. Haggard will understand this, and not permit Miss Brand to find herself in an embarrassing position.'
'Mr. Haggard has been entirely generous,' Roeham said in turn, consulting his own paper, 'and means to settle upon Mrs. Haggard an income of one thousand pounds a month for the rest of her life.'
'One thousand pounds,' Brand said. 'Bless my soul. There is generosity, Haggard. I thank you, man. I thank you.'
Haggard looked at Alison, who for a moment returned his gaze. Her lips parted in what might have been mistaken for a smile.
'And the issue of the marriage?' Wooding inquired.
'Ah . . .' Roeham continued to study his paper. 'Shall be recognised as heirs to the estate of Mr. Haggard in the event of the death of the existing heir, Mr. Ro
ger Haggard, and in any event, from the age of eighteen onwards, shall be in receipt of an income of not less than two hundred pounds a month each.'
'Generous,' Colonel Brand said. 'Oh, generous. Well, my sweet girl, are you content?'
Now Alison did smile. 'I have always been content with Mr. Haggard's proposals, Papa,' she murmured.
‘Then shall we sign?'
The papers were exchanged, and Haggard appended his signature. Like buying a horse or a house, he thought. But what an animal.
‘There we are, gentlemen.' Brand pushed back his chair and stood up. 'Now I suggest we all adjourn to the withdrawing room, and enjoy a glass of wine. Tis a cause for celebration,' he added, perhaps as an afterthought.
'We will join you in a moment,' Haggard said. 'But first I would like a few minutes alone with my fiancee.'
Alison's mouth opened in surprise, and she glanced at her father.
'Well, of course, that is entirely correct,' Brand said. 'Only a few minutes, now, Haggard, eh? A few minutes.'
They bustled from the room, and the door was closed. Alison remained seated at the table.
'Are you happy?' Haggard asked.
‘I am overwhelmed, Mr. Haggard. As Papa has said, you have been far too generous.'
Haggard got up, walked round the table, stood behind her, inhaled her perfume. 'Would you have refused me, had I been mean?'
'John Haggard is not a mean man,' she said. 'Or I would never have been his friend.'
Haggard rested his hands on her shoulders. For how long had he wanted to do that. 'Now you are to be his wife.'
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