by Hale Deborah
Indeed he did. Abolition rallies featuring speakers like Thomas Clarkson and William Wilberforce had long been a favoured means of stirring up popular support for their cause.
‘Your vote, your voice and your leadership are needed in the Lords as never before,’ the letter continued. ‘I pray your son is sufficiently recovered that you may come as soon as possible. As for her ladyship, I hope she has not worked her wiles to prevent you from proceeding against Astley, who has grown more insufferable than ever in your absence. I fear the scandal will not be put to rest until you have rid yourself of her. I enclose a tiny sample of what has been circulating, so you will understand how vital it is that you act with resolution and dispatch.’
Bennett forced himself to stoop and retrieve the fallen papers, which turned out to be vicious caricatures clipped from scandal magazines. One portrayed him with cuckold’s horns, being led about on a lead by Caroline, while a parrot representing Mr Wilberforce squawked about the need for moral reform. The other purported to show the scene at Almack’s when Caroline had been discovered in Astley’s arms.
As he stared at it, Bennett felt as if he were reliving that cursed night. Only this time he felt more than outrage, humiliation and betrayal. Overriding all of those was a crushing devastation he’d felt only once before, when he had learned that his beloved mother had abandoned him.
Something else about the picture nagged at him, though he could not work out exactly what. Shards of memory lanced through his mind. Astley looming over him, landing blows with his fists and his vile accusations. Astley smirking in triumph as yet another Abolition Bill went down to defeat. Astley with his arms around Caroline, his lips on hers and that blasted curtain pulled back at the most incriminating moment.
Precisely at the most incriminating moment. Could that have been a coincidence? Or had the whole scandal at Almack’s been orchestrated by Astley to destroy his marriage and ruin his reputation? If so, he had blundered into his enemy’s trap like a blind fool.
If he’d reacted differently—demanded Astley unhand his wife, challenged the scoundrel to a duel in defence of Caroline’s honour—how differently matters would have fallen out. But with their marriage in tatters and seeing his wife in the arms of the one man he’d ordered her to avoid, it had made it all too easy to believe she was repeating the sins of his mother.
But it couldn’t all be a fiction…could it? If Caroline had been faithful, surely she would have proclaimed her innocence at every opportunity. Unless…
He had made it brutally clear he would never believe her under any circumstances. Might she have feared that if she protested too vigorously, he would leave the island straight away and take Wyn with him?
Or could it be that Caroline wanted to escape their miserable marriage so much she was willing to seize this opportunity, in spite of what it would cost her?
‘Bennett, are you there?’ Caroline tapped on her husband’s bedroom door though she scarcely expected an answer. ‘Wyn is beside himself with impatience. If we don’t leave soon, I’m afraid he may try to swim out to one of those rocks.’
At her son’s urging, she’d already looked down towards the wharf. She had glimpsed a small boat tied up there but she could not see any sign of Bennett. Though she hadn’t expected to find him here, she’d promised Wyn she would check the house. Where else could he be?
Might something have happened to him? Though reason assured her it was unlikely, irrational worry began to gnaw at her the way it had when Wyn had run away and all the time he was ill.
She received no answer to her knock, but as she started back downstairs Caroline thought she heard a faint voice from behind Bennett’s door. Could he have been taken with an apoplectic fit?
Before she had time to realise how ridiculous that fear was, blind panic sent her hurtling through the door, certain she would find Bennett collapsed upon the bed. But when she found the room empty and heard her husband’s voice from outdoors, it was Caroline who sank on to his bed, her heart racing and her insides clenched in knots.
What had come over her? In all the time she’d known Bennett, even when she fancied herself madly in love with him, she had never felt such overwhelming anxiety for his welfare. Now she was so overcome with relief that she scarcely heard the crackle of paper beneath her.
But when her composure began to return, Caroline realised she’d sat on something she should not have. Hoping it was nothing too important, she budged over and looked to see.
When she first glanced over the magazine clippings, her mind refused to recognise what they represented. But her denial was not strong enough to hold the truth at bay for long. That was the card room at Almack’s as it must have appeared to onlookers that terrible night. No wonder everyone believed Astley’s accusations against her…including her husband. Any shame she had felt previously over her actions was nothing compared to the deluge of cold filth that swamped her.
Caroline could not keep from reading the accompanying letter. Though she knew it was wrong to trespass on Bennett’s private correspondence, it scarcely signified compared to the harm she’d already done him. These vile caricatures and who knew how many more like them would have been circulating for weeks, provoking pity and contempt for her proud husband. Yet when she read George Marlow’s letter summoning Bennett back to London, she knew he could not refuse such an appeal, no matter what public ridicule awaited him upon his return.
‘Mama, where are you?’ Wyn’s call was a plea she could not refuse, though she would rather have crawled into a deep hole and never come out. ‘I found Papa! It’s time to go in the boat.’
Drawing on a strength of will she hadn’t realised she possessed, Caroline stilled her trembling legs and forced herself to rise and put one foot in front of the other. Composing her features, she struggled to subdue her bitter disappointment that she would not have one more week to salvage her marriage. Perhaps not even one more day.
Did it matter, though? The past weeks on Tresco were nothing but a dream. Those obscene prints had made her face the true enormity of her indiscretion. It was beyond her power to atone for and beyond Bennett’s to forgive.
‘There she is.’ Bennett gave his son’s hand a squeeze as Caroline emerged from the house. ‘You see, we were not playing hide and seek, after all.’
Since it seemed likely this would be their final outing together, he was determined to keep up the appearance of a united, happy family, in spite of the doubts that gnawed at him. Though Caroline would not be aware how quickly their time was running out, he knew he could rely on her to act her part for Wyn’s sake.
The child’s lips twitched. ‘You’re teasing, aren’t you, Papa?’
‘Surely not!’ Caroline cried in mock horror before Bennett could reply. ‘Your papa is always in earnest. He cannot abide teasing.’
That was quite true…at least it had been until recently. Now Bennett thought he could tolerate a jest or two at his expense, provided they brought a glint of merriment to Caroline’s beguiling eyes. ‘I’m not quite as thin-skinned as I used to be when a certain impertinent young lady made me an object of fun.’
Wyn looked up at his mother. ‘Does he mean you, Mama?’
Caroline gave a rueful nod. ‘I couldn’t help myself. He was far too severe for a man so young and handsome. I had to do something to make him smile.’
Memories of those early days assailed Bennett as the three of them headed down to the quay. He’d been pursued by enough simpering débutantes that he found the surprising combination of Caroline Beresford’s impudent wit and stunning beauty quite irresistible. Too late, he’d realised they were not enough to sustain a marriage. If only he’d taken the trouble to discover how much more there was to his wife, what misery would it have spared them all?
‘Do you know what she said once when your grandfather could not find a poker to stir up the fire?’ Bennett raised the pitch of his voice in an exaggerated imitation of Caroline’s. ‘“I believe Lord Sterling must have sat on it
and jammed it straight up his backside.”’
Wyn laughed as if he’d never heard anything so funny in his life. ‘I must go tell Albert.’
Before they could stop him, he dashed off after the footman.
‘I was a heartless little beast, wasn’t I, to torment you like that?’ Beneath Caroline’s jesting, Bennett sensed remorse far deeper than a bit of long ago mockery warranted. ‘I must confess, when Father first invited you around to our house after singing your praises so incessantly, I was a bit jealous. You seemed to be the son he’d always longed for.’
That certainly rang true in light of what Caroline had told him about her difficult relationship with her father. Bennett wished he’d understood, at the time.
‘We’re quite a lot alike, your father and I. Perhaps too much, in some ways. Looking back, I suspect one of the reasons he took me under his wing was because he viewed me as a suitable husband for you.’
Caroline gave a rueful sigh. ‘Which goes to show Father wasn’t as clever as he was reputed to be.’
Bennett steeled himself to keep from wincing. Wyndham Beresford had been badly mistaken. The last kind of husband his daughter had needed was one too much like him, no matter how sensible, wealthy and titled. Caroline had needed a man capable of appreciating, understanding and cherishing her. A man capable of seeing behind her mask of rebellious banter to the girl who longed for love and acceptance. A man who would have had the sense and trust to take her word over that of his worst enemy.
By now, they’d reached the quay where a small rowboat bobbed in the gentle waves, awaiting their party. Albert had already climbed aboard the boat and lifted Wyn in after him.
Bennett helped Caroline into the boat, briefly savouring the warmth of her hand in his. As he watched her settle in the bow of the craft and take Wyn on to her lap, he was struck by how much she’d matured in the short time they’d been on the island. Was that because events had tested her character? Or had she always possessed the potential, if only he’d made the effort to foster it?
Untying the boat from the quay, Bennett scrambled aboard and took his seat beside Albert. Each of them grabbed an oar and began to pull.
‘It’s been a good many years since I rowed a boat, sir.’ Albert’s face was already growing red.
‘That makes two of us.’ Bennett thought back to that day on the Thames with Caroline and his blistered hands. ‘Fortunately we aren’t going far and the water is a good deal calmer than usual.’
Wyn pointed towards the nearest scrap of land protruding from the sea. ‘Why is it called Little Cheese Rock, Papa?’
‘Dashed if I know.’ The exertion of rowing made Bennett’s breath come quicker. ‘Most of the smallest offshore islands are called ledges—Diamond Ledge, Paper Ledge, Tree Ledge.’
‘Does Diamond Ledge have diamonds on it?’
Bennett chuckled. ‘I’m sure the people of Tresco wish it did.’
Overhead the gulls wheeled in the vast blue sky, adding their haunting calls to the rhythmic dirge of the waves lapping against the shore.
Once they had reached the tiny islet, Wyn scrambled over the rocks, proud that he could quickly walk around the whole perimeter. He found an interesting seashell and fragments of an egg from some bird that must have nested there. He treated his finds as if they were the most priceless treasures.
After that they rowed out to two more of the uninhabited islands that clustered along Tresco’s east coast.
When Wyn pleaded to visit just one more, Bennett shook his head. ‘We need to get back. The wind is starting to pick up.’
Caroline sought to divert the child. ‘May I have a look at your seashells, dearest?’
Meanwhile Bennett and the footman rowed hard and soon the boat pulled alongside the quay. Albert climbed out and tethered the boat while Bennett hoisted his son on to the quay. Caroline was making her way towards him when a high wave suddenly rocked the boat. Bennett struggled to keep his balance.
His wife might have recovered hers, too, if a rogue gust of wind had not caught her parasol, sending her tumbling overboard with a splash that swamped Bennett’s defences. The prospect of Caroline coming to harm opened a bottomless chasm of dread for which he was totally unprepared.
‘Mama!’ Wyn cried.
‘Don’t fret, son.’ Bennett threw off his coat. ‘I’ll get her. Albert, watch him,’ he called to the footman, then jumped into the water after his wife.
The coldness of it slammed into him, making every particle of his flesh scream with shock. It didn’t help that he’d overheated himself with strenuous rowing.
As he bobbed to the surface, a surge of relief pulsed through him when he spotted Caroline’s head above water. Strands of drenched hair were plastered over her face like seaweed. Her mouth opened and closed convulsively as she gasped for air. Her blue-green eyes were wide with terror as she flailed about in a desperate effort to keep from sinking beneath the surface again.
One vigorous kick propelled Bennett to her. He grabbed for her hand and tried to pull her close. She did not seem to realise he was trying to help her. Caught in the grip of panic, she struggled against him, writhing and kicking with surprising strength. The next thing he knew, she was forcing his head under water as she fought to keep afloat.
Bennett wished he’d ordered Albert to take Wyn and go for help. From what he’d seen, the young footman possessed little initiative. He might well stand there on the deserted quay and watch helplessly while his employers drowned. Bennett feared he might have to abandon Caroline to prevent her from dragging him down with her.
Though his lungs cried out for air and the water’s chill sapped his strength, Bennett knew he must get Caroline to safety as quickly as possible. After that, he could take care of himself. Rather than fighting her to get his head back above water, as every instinct urged, he concentrated on sinking as deep possible.
There! His feet made contact with solid ground.
Gathering his dwindling strength, he clutched Caroline by the legs and thrust her upwards with all his might. Then, as darkness closed in on his senses from all directions, he strained towards the light above him.
Chapter Thirteen
The moment Caroline felt that cold, dark water sucking her down, some savage creature seemed to take possession of her body. When her head broke the surface, she gasped for air, but her lungs could not seem to take it in. She twisted and thrashed like a wild thing with a single urgent purpose—to fight the relentless force dragging her to the depths.
Something caught at her arm, trying to still its raging movement. She could not let it. If she stopped struggling, she would sink and drown! As she fought against it, some instinct told her the solid object trying to hold her would give her a firm surface to push against. Rather than trying to shove the object away, she began to grapple with it, seeking any hand or foothold to lever herself up. For a terrifying instant, it fought back, thrusting her beneath the water again. Redoubling her frantic efforts, she managed to gain the advantage. The object sank beneath her.
Then suddenly it seized her by the legs, pressing them together with overpowering strength. She tried to resist, only to find herself hurtling upwards, propelled by a power not her own. She burst free of the water, briefly flying into the air. An instant later she fell back, crashing down upon something hard that forced a spurt of water out of her mouth. Gasping for air, shivering violently, Caroline gradually realised she was hanging half-in, half-out of the row boat, not certain how she’d got there.
‘Mama, are you all right?’ Shrill with alarm, her son’s voice penetrated her muddled thoughts. ‘Where is Papa?’
Bennett! He must have been the solid object she’d fought against, pushing him underwater in her desperate effort to save herself.
‘Can you move, my lady?’ Albert called to her from the quay. ‘Try to pull yourself into the boat so it doesn’t tip over.’
Though her legs felt limp and useless, Caroline managed to drag them over the side of the b
oat and collapse on the middle plank. ‘My…hus-band?’
If Bennett had drowned trying to save her after what she had done to him, she would never forgive herself.
‘He’s hanging on to the side of the quay, ma’am,’ replied the footman. ‘I’m going to help him out of the water now.’
Overcome with relief, Caroline gave a shaky nod.
Wyn was still calling out to her in an agitated tone. Raising her hand in a weak wave, she forced herself to smile. ‘Just…give me a…moment to rest…dearest…then I’ll…come to you.’
By the time she mustered the energy to try, Albert had helped Bennett out of the water. Turning their attention to her, the men took her by the arms and lifted her on to the quay. It felt so blessedly firm and steady beneath her feet she would have knelt and kissed it, except she feared she might never get back up again.
The moment she had her feet under her, Albert let go of her arm, but Bennett did not. He felt as firm and steady as the quay itself. Those were qualities she had never properly appreciated.
Not trusting her wobbly knees, she clung to him, though she had no right to. ‘I—I’m sorry I dragged you under when you tried to help me. I didn’t know what I was doing.’
‘Don’t concern yourself about that now.’ Bennett sounded as if he cherished every breath he drew.
‘Mama, Papa.’ Wyn hung back. ‘Why did you go in the water? I was frightened.’
‘We’re all right now, son,’ Bennett tried to reassure the child. ‘Though I must report the water is not yet warm enough for sea bathing. You were a good boy to stay on the quay with Albert.’
Taking his dry coat from the footman, he wrapped it around Caroline. It reminded her of that night at Almack’s and how he’d given her his coat after she’d subjected him to the greatest humiliation a married man could suffer. Even at a time like that, he could not fail to consider another’s comfort.
