One morning John Milward called at the house. He looked very young and rather frightened, but he had come to see Helena and I was pleased about that. He had not left it just to his father to break off the marriage.
When I saw Helena she had regained her radiance.
“I wanted you to be the first to know,” she said. “It’s going to be all right.”
“You mean …?”
She nodded. “We’re going to be married. Oh, it won’t be an expensive wedding. Who wants that, anyway?”
“Not you,” I cried, hugging her.
“We shall be poor.”
“You’ll have your allowance.”
“John will have to do some work or other.” My heart sank a little. I could not imagine John’s doing some work or other.
“But we don’t care. He’s going to defy his family. He doesn’t care about being cut off. He only cares about me.”
“Oh, Helena, I’m so glad. I misjudged him. I thought he was weak.”
“We’re going to be very strong.”
“It’s wonderful.”
“Do you think Papa …?”
I thought about that enigmatical man and it occurred to me that, wicked as he must be, he would not be one to stand in the way of his daughter’s happiness. In fact I could imagine his delight in snubbing the Duke.
At least Helena’s happiness was saved.
For a whole week Helena continued in a state of bliss. She saw John every day. She had been so unhappy that no restrictions were put on her by Aunt Amaryllis, who was delighted at the return of John for Helena’s sake. John came to the house and was alone with Helena for long periods of time. They walked in the Park together.
He had left the ducal roof and was sharing rooms with a bachelor friend of his. I said to Peterkin: “He’s got more spirit than I thought. I wouldn’t have believed he could have stood out against his family.”
Peterkin agreed with me.
How wrong we were to think all was well! His family must have brought great pressure to bear on him and John, after all, was not the man to withstand it.
He did not even come to tell Helena himself; he explained by letter. She showed it to me.
My dearest Helena,
I am so sorry but I cannot go on with this. You have no idea what I have had to put up with from my family. It’s not just being cut off. Where would we live? My father says I shall have nothing … nothing at all. They are all against me, Helena. I can’t stand it. I know I should never be any good at earning a living. What could I do?
I love you. I shall always love you. But it has to be goodbye.
John
I have never seen such misery as I saw in Helena’s face. I cursed him. He should never have come back. It would have been better if she had just had the one blow.
I tried to comfort her. I said that perhaps if he was so weak it was better for them to part. She would not have it. Her heart was broken. Life had become intolerable to her.
Those were wretched days.
I wanted to leave London. I wanted to put all that had happened behind me. But I did know that I was the only one to whom Helena could talk and I felt I could not leave her.
My parents wrote to say that in view of our departure in September, and the scandal about Uncle Peter and because there was to be no wedding, I should return home. I would have to make certain preparations and although they had been going to pick me up on the way to Tilbury, it would now be more convenient for me to return home so that we could all set out together.
When I mentioned the matter to Helena she looked stricken although she said nothing.
Then I had an idea. “Helena,” I said, “why don’t you come with me? You’ll get right away and there is nothing like leaving something behind to get it out of your mind.”
She replied that nothing could get this out of her mind; but I could see that she was so eager not to lose me that she wanted to come.
So very soon after that Helena and I left for Cornwall.
I was glad to be home. It was good to see Jacco again. He was always particularly affectionate after long absences.
My parents were very kind and gentle to Helena and I fancied she seemed a little better away from the place where so much that was tragic had happened to her.
Rolf was away. His father had died suddenly of a heart attack.
“Poor Rolf,” said my mother. “He is very sad. He is away now, staying with friends in the Midlands. It was such a blow. We were all so fond of Mr. Hanson.”
Later I had several talks with my mother, who was of the opinion that Helena was better off without John Milward since he lacked the courage to stand out against his parents. After all, he was of age.
My mother and I used to go for long walks together along the cliffs during the mornings. Helena usually stayed in her room until luncheon. That seemed to be what she wanted and we thought we should indulge her all we could.
It gave me a chance to be with my mother. I was realizing how much I had missed her while I had been away.
One day as we lay on the grass of the cliffs looking out to sea watching the seagulls flying high and then swooping down to capture some item of food, she said to me: “Tell me, what did Peter Lansdon do when the news about his connection with these clubs came out?”
“Do? Oh nothing much. He was quite nonchalant about it. Yes, it was true, he said. And then he reminded his family how they had benefitted from his money.”
“Poor Amaryllis.”
“Don’t worry about her. She thinks Uncle Peter is always right. It’s Helena I’m sorry for.”
“I’ve got something to tell you, Annora, about your Uncle Peter. I’ve told your father. It was a secret even from him but now I can tell you. I said I thought you should know and he agreed with me. I know you liked Joe Cresswell. But what about Rolf?”
“What about him?”
“Your father and I used to think that you and Rolf would make a match of it one day. I know he is a little older than you but now you’re growing up that’s not so much. What we want is your happiness of course. We’ve always had such a soft spot for Rolf … living so close … being like one of the family really. At one time you admired him so much. We used to laugh about it. So did Mr. Hanson. It was almost an understood thing between us. Then you seemed to change.”
“I was growing up.”
“But you do like him, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course I do.”
“Your father would be very pleased. He says we know Rolf and that’s what we like about it.”
“You never really know people,” I said quickly. “Not all about them.”
“Well, we all have our secrets …”
I knew that she was uneasy, that she was thinking about what she had said she would tell me, that she was reluctant to do so and that was why she had gone on talking of other things, as though postponing the moment.
“Remember, my darling,” she said now, “what we want more than anything is your happiness. Of course we’ll like you to be somewhere near us. Parents are like that, but we have to remind ourselves that it is not for us to choose. I hope you’ll talk to us. Sometimes talking can help.”
“I know it can and if there was something I wanted to talk about I’d talk to you … first.”
She kissed me. There was a brief silence and still she was hesitating. I imagined she was steeling herself. She said quickly: “Has this Joe Cresswell disappointed you in some way? You shouldn’t blame him for his father’s affairs, you know.”
“I don’t. In any case I believe his father was innocent of what they blamed him for. I suppose you read about the case?”
She nodded.
“Isn’t it time you told me what you were going to?”
She hesitated and then said quickly: “I … I knew about Peter Lansdon’s affairs. I discovered long ago, before I married your father.”
“You didn’t say,” I said.
“I couldn’t. He blackmaile
d me. It was a case of double blackmail.”
“You!”
“Yes. You see, my dearest child, out of necessity, people sometimes do things you would least suspect them of. You’ve lived all your life sheltered and not really coming face to face with emotions and temptations which beset most of us at some time. You know your father was my second husband.”
“Yes, of course.”
“My first husband was a good, kind, gentle man. I married him without really being in love with him. It was always your father … but you know about him and his term in Australia. There’s no secret about that. My first husband was hurt in an accident. He was crippled before our marriage. I tried to be a good wife to him … and then your father came back. You don’t understand yet what love can be like. It was necessary to us both. I was your father’s mistress before my first husband was dead. Peter Lansdon found this out.”
“Oh, Mama …”
“It was a desperate situation.”
“He blackmailed you.”
“In a way. He’s a strange man. He is bent on one thing—getting on in the world, making everyone dance to his tune. He is the most ambitious man I ever knew. I found out something about him … I found out that which has now become public knowledge.”
“About the clubs?” I said.
“Yes … the sort they were. He was up to his tricks even then. Juggling with events so that he could be in the right place at the right moment.”
“Do you think he arranged what happened to Joseph Cresswell?”
“I am sure he did. It was his way of working. I found out this and we made a pact. He would keep quiet about your father and me if I would about him. I agreed. He was not the sort of man to break his word … unless it was necessary for him to do so. He doesn’t want revenge on people for the purpose of harming them. He acts only to bring benefit to himself. I feel I know him so well. It was your Joe Cresswell who exposed him, wasn’t it? And you thought that was wrong …”
I said: “He told me he wanted to see me. He came to the house and when I went out of the room to get some wine for which he asked, he went upstairs and broke into Uncle Peter’s room. You see, but for my carelessness he wouldn’t have got into that room, he wouldn’t have had his proof. Helena would still be engaged … almost married by now to John Milward.”
“And you’re blaming Joe?”
“What he did was wrong. Nothing has been put right. He wanted to prove that his father had been trapped … and no one wants to know about that now. He can in any case only rely on Chloe’s evidence and nobody trusts her. She’s a well-known adventuress. It all seems so unnecessary. Why couldn’t he let it rest? It’s done no good to his father and it’s ruined Helena’s life.”
“You’re right,” she said. “But you must understand Joe’s feelings.”
“I do. But I can’t forget the sight of him when I came into that room which he had forced open and saw him putting those papers into his breast pocket.”
“I just wanted you to know, Annora, that we are none of us perfect. Your father and I … well, we were very much in love … and there was my husband, a helpless invalid. You see, we are all weak. Do realize that, Annora. Don’t judge people too harshly.”
I lay there staring out to sea, rather bewildered by what she had told me. I could picture Peter Lansdon laying down his rules. She must not tell and he would not tell. And my mother had entered into the bargain with him to save her first husband from the knowledge that she had a lover; and because her love for my father was so strong she could not resist it even though she was committing adultery.
I must try to understand Joe.
But I should always remember his standing there with the papers in his hands as I should remember Rolf that Midsummer’s Eve.
After that talk with my mother, I tried to reason with myself. I expected too much from people. I must try to understand Joe’s motives. I must try to convince myself that Rolf’s feelings had got the better of him. He had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the past; he had imagined that he was living centuries ago when people tortured witches; for a night he had shed his shell of civilization and become one of those people whose customs interested him so much.
I must be understanding. I must realize that I was, as my mother said, young and I had seen little of the world.
But I could not forget.
Preparations for our departure were going on apace.
“I wish you weren’t going,” sighed Helena.
“You’ll feel better when you’re back in London. It won’t be as bad as it was. They are right when they say time heals.”
“I can’t go back, Annora. I don’t want to. I wish I could stay here.”
Then the idea came to me. “Helena, why shouldn’t you come with us to Australia?”
I saw the wonder dawning on her face.
There was a great deal of discussion about it. My mother wrote to Aunt Amaryllis. She had always had great influence with her. “I was like the dictatorial elder sister,” she used to say.
The result was that both Uncle Peter and Aunt Amaryllis thought it might be a good idea for Helena to accompany us.
Helena brightened considerably at the prospect and I even saw her smile once or twice.
About a week before we were due to leave Rolf returned.
He came over to see us at once. He looked melancholy and I had never seen him like that before.
He visited us frequently and talked a great deal with my father about the estate, which was solely his now. He had been looking after it for years because he, not his father, had been the one who had built it up. “But there is a difference,” my father said, “when something is entirely your own.”
Rolf contrived to be alone with me when we went riding together.
He said: “I wish you weren’t going away, Annora. You’re going right to the other side of the world and you’ll be away for a long time.”
“It wouldn’t be worthwhile going just for a few weeks.”
“Then there is the journey there and another back. I missed you while you were in London. Did you think of Cador?”
“Often.”
“When you come back, I want to have a long talk with you.”
“What about?”
“Us.”
“What do you mean … you and me?”
He nodded.
We were walking our horses and he turned to me and said: “You seem to take such a long time to grow up.”
“The usual time I suppose.”
“Will you think of me while you are away?”
“Quite a lot, I expect.”
“When you come back we’ll make plans …”
I felt a sudden happiness. He could mean only one thing. I smiled at him. He looked different with that air of melancholy about him.
I thought of what my mother had said. “One must try to understand people.” She and my father had broken laws. People did at times. One must not judge them too harshly. One must grow up. One must understand something about life.
In that moment I wondered why I had ever thought there was a possibility of my marrying Joe. I knew I loved Rolf. But I wished I could forget that terrible night.
When we returned to the stables he helped me to dismount and kissed me.
I felt rather glad that we were going away. During the trip I would sort out my thoughts. I would come to terms with myself. I would make sure that, whatever had happened on that night, I was going to marry Rolf.
On the High Seas
IT WAS THE BEGINNING of September when we set sail. We stayed a few nights in the house in Albemarle Street before going on to Tilbury to join the cargo ship in which we would be sailing. I was sure the excitement of the coming journey was good for Helena. She was still very sad and at times lapsed into deep melancholy, but I did feel that she had come a little way from the terrible lassitude which implied that she simply did not care what became of her.
Amaryllis was sorry that she was going but at th
e same time she felt that it was the best thing for her. As for Peter Lansdon, his resilience continued to amaze me. He behaved as though there was nothing extraordinary about a man who had aspired to become a leading politician being at the same time, to put it crudely, a brothel owner. He simply shrugged off politics and I had no doubt that he would soon be applying his immense energies to something else.
We went to the house in the square for dinner and it was almost as it had been in the past. He was insouciant, talkative and informative about what was going on. I did notice once the sardonic smile he sent in my mother’s direction and I guessed he was reminding her of that long-ago pact, and telling her that exposure did not worry him all that much. Yet he had gone to great lengths to keep the nature of his business secret. He was, no doubt, making the best of an ugly situation, and in spite of everything I knew about him, I could not help feeling a grudging admiration for him.
He did talk a great deal about the Queen and Lord Melbourne and the growing certainty that there would soon be an election which would put Melbourne out.
“And what Her Majesty will do when she loses her beloved minister, I cannot imagine. Stamp her little foot, no doubt. But it won’t do any good. And they say she has an aversion to Peel. Well, one has to admit he is too serious a politician to appeal to a young girl … and of course his lordship has all the charm in the world, to which is added a somewhat scandalous past.” He smiled at us in a kind of wry triumph. “It seems odd that the naughty prosper in this world and the good are considered somewhat dull.” I could see that he was certainly not going to let adversity deter him.
I think my father was inclined to admire him, too. He had always been one to look lightly on the sins of others. My mother naturally felt a great antipathy towards him and I could well understand that, after what she told me of the anxiety he must have caused her all those years ago.
I had several talks with Peterkin. He told me he had seen Joe at Frances’s Mission and Joe had given up all thought of politics. It was the only thing he could do. He would not have a chance this time, but it might be that in a few years the name would be forgotten and he would pursue his ambition. For the time being he had gone up North and was working with a company in which his father had interests.
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