106. Love's Dream in Peril
Page 14
“Be careful. The mud will take you too!”
“Adella! I’ve got to help her!”
She was calling to him now,
“Digby, please! I can’t move.”
The mud had reached her knees. She was sinking slowly but steadily.
Lord Ranulph shook off the crazed old woman and ran to join Jane and Digby.
“This is all my fault,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I drove her to this, if I had not asked her to marry me.”
“Stop it!” Jane cried. “If we don’t reach her, she will be gone in a moment.”
“Let me go!” Digby tried to pull free, for he had to go to her.
Jane did not release him.
“Lord Ranulph, find something that we can lay on top of the mud,” she called out. “Quickly!”
There was an old door, broken and full of splinters lying nearby on the riverbank.
Lord Ranulph dragged it over to the shoreline and they pushed it out onto the quivering wet mud.
It was still a few feet away from Adella and, though she struggled to reach it, she could not.
“If I lie flat on top of it,” Digby shook Jane’s hand from his arm and plunged forward.
He then threw himself onto the door and, although the slimy surface of the shore quaked under his weight, the wooden planks held firm beneath him.
He wriggled forward, reaching for Adella, who was now up to her waist in mud.
“Digby,” she whimpered, her teeth chattering with fear. “Help me.”
“I love you,” he called and, with a great effort, he caught hold of her fingers and the door lurched as he tried to drag her towards him.
“Oh, God!” Ranulph exclaimed. “She will pull him in too!”
He walked towards Digby and the wooden door, testing the ground beneath his feet with every step.
“Please, please, be careful,” Jane cried and for the first time since they had come here, tears burned her eyes and she felt herself give in to despair.
She wanted to reach out and catch Lord Ranulph’s coat and hold on to him, but what use would that be?
She was light and slender and weak, how could she find enough strength to keep not only him but Digby and Adella too from the powerful force of the quaking mud?
Lord Ranulph had reached the broken door and he caught hold of it.
Only Digby’s legs were on the planks now. The top half of his body was lying flat out on the mud and he was slipping helplessly towards Adella as she sank deeper and deeper.
Lord Ranulph reached across the door and grabbed Digby’s feet.
“I’ve got him,” he gasped to Jane. “But she is stuck fast and she is dragging him down too!”
Jane’s whole body was trembling.
“Wait,” she said and she took a step towards him.
Wet mud oozed up around her ankles, but she could feel a firm surface beneath it.
The mud must be quite shallow on this part of the shore closer to the arch.
In another moment she was next to Lord Ranulph. His face was drawn into a desperate grimace as he clung to Digby’s feet.
“I can’t move him!” he wailed.
Jane pressed up close to the door and managed to get her hands on one of Digby’s ankles.
“It will be easier with two of us,” she said.
Shoulder to shoulder they pulled, as Digby groaned with pain at the strain on his limbs.
For several long moments nothing happened. And then, with a sinister squelch, the mud heaved round Adella and spat her out, so that she was lying next to Digby, half-on and half off the door.
“Thank God, thank God!” Lord Ranulph muttered, still clutching his friend’s ankle.
Slowly Jane helped him to drag the broken door with its precious burden back to firm ground.
Then, shaking with every muscle aching from the terrible struggle she had just undergone, she turned to him.
Lord Ranulph caught her and crushed her in his arms.
“Thank God,” he repeated. “Dearest, loveliest Jane. Thank God you are here!”
Jane closed her eyes and felt his warm body against hers as he drew long shuddering breaths of relief.
Adella lay on the broken door gazing into Digby’s blue eyes. She had forgotten where she was, this terrible filthy place under the arches.
All she knew was that he was here with her.
She had almost been lost for ever, swallowed up by a terrible foul darkness, but he had come to find her. He had saved her.
Now the sky was turning pink, as the sun began to rise turning the rippling water of the Thames to gold.
“You are so beautiful,” he sighed.
“I cannot be. Look, I am all covered with mud,” she replied. She could see her hands, sticky and black.
And her hair too all spread out over the splintery cracked planks was wet and grimy.
“You are safe,” Digby assured her. “That is all that matters. You are safe, you are beautiful and I love you!”
And before he could say any more, they heard the sound of a whistle and feet clattering at the entrance to the arch.
The Police had now come after them with dogs and lights. And there was Judge Dryden, his face haggard with worry after a sleepless night.
*
“I am completely astounded by your bravery and resourcefulness,” Judge Dryden smiled later that morning.
He was sitting on the sofa in the drawing room of No. 82 and sipping from a large silver tankard containing strong coffee and Irish whiskey.
“You are two most remarkable young men,” he continued.
“Jane alone is responsible for our success,” Lord Ranulph said. “Without her common sense and bravery – we would never have found Adella – let alone saved her.”
He stumbled over his words and fell silent, but his eyes rested on Jane with a look of admiration that made her blush deeply and gaze down at the carpet.
Adella was seated on the sofa wrapped in a satin quilt with both her feet in a bowl of mustard and hot water, while Beth combed the tangles out of her hair.
Digby sat beside her, clad in an old suit of Uncle Edgar’s that was much too large for him, so that his wrists poked out from the sleeves.
“I am so sorry, Adella.” he said in a low voice. “All of this has been my fault. I will never forgive myself for turning away from you and for hurting you again.”
“It does not matter,” she whispered. “You love me. You would have died to save me from the mud. That is all I know and all I care about.”
She slid her hand into his.
Uncle Edgar was watching from the other side of the drawing room and now he came over to Adella.
“I am the only one who should take responsibility for this sorry affair,” he said. “I have not listened to you. I took no time or care to try and understand the nature of your attachment to this young man.”
“I love him,” Adella said simply and quietly. “It does not matter to me one bit that he does not have a penny to his name. He is the man I love.”
“I can only ask for your forgiveness,” Uncle Edgar sighed, looking very downcast.
Judge Dryden now put down his tankard and came to join them.
“Digby will not always be penniless,” he said. “He shows great promise as a lawyer and, if he does fulfil that promise, he may one day earn a great deal of money.”
“Adella, will you wait for me?” Digby asked her, gazing at her with an intense longing. “I will be successful, I know it, but it may take a little time. Forever, if that is what it takes.”
Adella’s eyes were shining.
Then she remembered that there were others in the room besides herself and Digby.
“Uncle Edgar, it cannot be any other way, do you understand?”
She felt a little fearful as she said this, but her uncle simply nodded.
“Of course, my dear.” He looked at her with a shame-faced expression. “I can only say – ”
Uncle
Edgar was then interrupted by a whirring and clicking from the clock on the mantelpiece, as the carved bird burst out from its little house with a chorus of eight loud cuckoos.
The sound was so absurd that everyone, including Judge Dryden, burst out laughing and then Uncle Edgar brightened up and looked rather proud that his creation should receive so much attention.
“Enough!” The Judge wiped his eyes and rose. “It is eight o’clock. I should have been in Chambers half an hour ago. Digby, you must, of course, take today off as a holiday after your ordeal.”
Digby got to his feet.
“No, sir,” he said. “Allow me a few moments to go and change into something a little more respectable and I shall follow you. I really must not miss any opportunity to advance my career.”
Judge Dryden nodded.
“Admirable! If Miss May will forgive you.”
“Adella?” Digby squeezed her hand.
“Of course! You must go.”
Adella’s heart was singing, filling her with a golden joy she knew would never leave her now.
Digby was hers and she belonged completely to him. They would be married and she would wait for that heavenly day if it took ten years.
*
But Cupid had other plans for Adella and Digby, and they did not have to wait so long for their happiness to be complete.
The God of Love took pity on them and one day not long after the incident by the River Thames, Digby’s pretty mother came to London for a visit.
Cupid saw an opportunity that could not be missed and he lifted his bow and arrow and aimed straight for the heart of a certain Mr. Staunton, one of Judge Dryden’s close friends, a widowed gentleman of considerable means.
Within just a couple of months, Mrs. Dryden had become Mrs. Staunton and Digby found himself relieved of his heavy responsibility to provide for his family.
His career prospered greatly too and so it was that little less than a year after the traumatic night under the arches that a sumptuous double wedding took place.
Lady Ireton was amongst the throng of guests.
“So the prettiest young heiress in London has found herself a charming husband!” she said to Judge Dryden, who was seated on her left as they watched the exquisite bride walk up the aisle on her uncle’s arm, followed by a cluster of bridesmaids and two pages.
“He’s a fair-haired young Adonis indeed. But is it true that he has not even a penny to his name?” Lady Ireton burbled on.
The Judge gave her one of his famous sideways looks that had subdued many an unruly Courtroom.
“My nephew Digby will one day be one of the most formidable practitioners of the law and may command the highest fees for his services,” he said. “Adella will have no reason to regret her choice.”
Adella reached the altar now and her hand, where it rested on Uncle Edgar’s arm, was trembling.
Not with fear but with excitement and joy at this golden moment, the happiest in her whole life.
And as she made her promises to Digby, the golden light within her seemed to grow stronger and stronger until it spilled out of her and surrounded him too.
He raised her fine lace veil and his blue eyes met hers.
“I am so happy,” Adella whispered. “I hardly know who I am anymore.”
Digby smiled at her.
“As of a few seconds ago, you are now Mrs. Digby Dryden,” he sighed. “Hello, my wife!”
And their lips met in the first kiss of their married life and they touched the stars.
It was a perfect moment, timeless and exquisite and seemed to Adella to last forever.
But in reality it passed by in a flash, for, almost at once, the small page, young Peter Dryden, tripped over Adella’s train and fell on his face and then the aisle had to be cleared as the music of The Wedding March began.
“Now comes someone who really does not have a penny to her name,” Lady Ireton said, as a second bride began her slow march up the aisle towards the tall figure of Lord Ranulph, who had now taken Digby’s place.
“But perhaps I should not be surprised,” she added in a low voice.
“Why is that?” Judge Dryden asked.
Lady Ireton smiled,
“I hope I may trust to your discretion, Judge,” she said. “For there are very few in Society who know that I was once a Governess!”
Now the gold light that filled Adella’s heart seemed to be spilling out through the whole of the Church.
As she stood with Digby, her hand in his, she could see her Uncle Edgar, a new look of pride on his face as he watched her.
Next to him, holding the hand of her new husband, was Digby’s mother, her face aglow with joy and delight.
There as well were the older bridesmaids, Digby’s sisters, comforting little Peter after his fall and advising Ned that it was not at all appropriate to play chariots with the younger bridesmaids, Agnes and Katy, by driving them up and down the aisle by the ribbons of their dresses.
But perhaps the sweetest sight of all was that of her dearest friend Jane in the arms of Lord Ranulph, as he tenderly drew her to him with a proud and possessive look of love in his dark eyes.
“What are you thinking, my sweetheart?” Digby asked her.
“This is undoubtedly the happiest day of my life,” Adella replied. “I wish it might never end.”
Digby put his arms around her, drawing her into the golden warmth of his love.
“This happiness will be with us forever,” he said, “and, who knows, it may grow even greater.”
“You are right, my darling Digby!” she sighed. “I love you and adore you.”
The two of them stepped out of the Church and into the brilliant sunshine just as a small silver chariot drew up pulled by two snow-white ponies.
“Oh, Digby, surely not!” Adella cried, delighted to see Sugar and Spice again. “They are so sweet, but – ”
“Don’t blame me,” Digby said, smiling at her. “It was Ned’s idea. I think Ranulph put him up to it.”
A shower of flower petals filled the air as Digby Dryden helped his wife into the chariot and took his place beside her.
And no one at all thought the young couple looked absurd as they drove away to begin their long and happy life together.
All eyes were filled with tears of joy and all hearts were full with a golden dream of happiness.
“Love’s dream is now fulfilled,” Digby murmured to his beautiful wife.
It was the very same dream that had brought Adella to her glorious wedding day and would last into eternity.
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