A Broken Vessel (39 page)

He waved the letter. His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “And there you have me—a victim trussed and bound. I never had any idea what was happening to me. Everybody knows it’s easy to get married in Scotland—couples are always running off to Gretna Green. But what most people don’t realize—what I didn’t know, to my cost!—is that Scotland is the only country in the civilised world where a man can get married
by mistake
! The day after I sent Megan that letter, she was all affection for me—couldn’t apologise enough for the way she’d been acting. She got me to spend the night with her at an inn—and the next morning, she told me we were married! By giving her a written promise of marriage, then treating her as my wife, I’d married her under
Scottish law. It’s called irregular marriage, and it’s as legal and binding as if we’d joined hands in St. George’s, Hanover Square. The law treats what ought to be done as done—that’s how a lawyer in Edinburgh explained it to me afterward. Megan’s father’d been a lawyer—a writer, as they say up there—so she knew all about it.

“It was only then—when I knew it was really true, I was married for good and all, as long as Megan and I both lived—it was only then that I read my own heart aright. I realized that I loved my cousin Ada—that I’d always loved her, but like an idiot, like a spoiled, deluded child, I thought I had time enough to sow my wild oats, and come to her when I’d had all the other women who caught my fancy. I didn’t expect she’d marry anyone else. She’s not what the world calls a beauty—which only shows how little the world knows—and she hasn’t any money, which is all anyone cares about on the marriage mart. So I thought she’d be there waiting—and she was, but I couldn’t have her now. She’d never have me on any terms but marriage, because she’s the soul of honour, the most virtuous girl that ever breathed. And I couldn’t offer her marriage, because I already had a wife! Oh, they grind very fine—the wheels of Scottish justice!”

He paused, pale and out of breath. Dipper refilled his glass. He took a pull, and resumed more calmly, “All I could think of to do was to keep the marriage a secret as long as possible. Once Ada knew I was married, it would be all up with me. But if I could somehow get my hands on that letter—the only proof Megan had that I’d promised her marriage—I’d be as good as a bachelor again. There has to be written proof of the promise, you see, or the law won’t recognise the marriage. But Megan had it well hidden, and no power on earth would make her give it up. I knew it was no use pleading or arguing with her. So for the time being, secrecy was my only hope.

“I told Megan my family would cut up rough when they found I’d married beneath me—which there was no denying I had, and they would. I said I’d reveal the marriage eventually, but this wasn’t a good time. I had a spinster aunt who was
partial to me, and she was an invalid, and likely to cut up large when she died. I told Megan she’d cut me off with a shilling if she found out I’d married a Scottish governess. Megan knew the money would come in handy—she was a Scot, when all was said and done—so she agreed to keep our marriage dark until Aunt Charlotte closed her accounts.

“I knew that was only a stop-gap measure. Sooner or later, either Aunt would die, or Megan would get tired of waiting. Meantime, I set her up in a house in the north of England, well away from my own family in Somerset. Sort of a
cottage ornée
, and damned expensive to keep up. I even visited her once in a while, both to keep her happy and to look for the letter. Of course I never found it. We rubbed along well enough at first. Megan didn’t realize how determined I was to be rid of her. She had other things on her mind.” He smiled wryly. “I suppose by now you’ve realized who Rosemary is.”

“I was misled for a long time,” Julian admitted. “I thought she might be the young woman who was murdered at the refuge. I hinted as much to you, the night I first saw Megan, when I remarked on what an awkward thing it is, making young women disappear. You saw your chance to lead me a dance, and you did—letting me think Rosemary was a girl you’d seduced. Now my guess would be that she’s too young for that sort of thing— even assuming you weren’t her father.”

“She’s two years old. I found out after Megan had tricked me into marriage that she was in the family way. That was one reason she was so desperate to marry me. Give her credit, she was devoted to Rosemary, even before she was born. She might decide on her own account to be my mistress, but it was quite another thing to bring our child into the world a bastard.

“It was after Rosemary was born that things started to go wrong. Megan had told the people in the village where she lived that I was in the army, and that was why I came to see her so rarely, but they sensed something hole-and-corner was going on. Rumours flew around that she was only my
chère amie
, and respectable people wouldn’t receive her anymore. She was
furious. She started writing me angry letters, demanding that I reveal our marriage, and threatening to do it herself if I didn’t agree. I pleaded Aunt Charlotte, my mother’s health, my sister’s wedding—anything. I bought short reprieves, but each time it was harder.

“Then, this past spring, a blow came from a different quarter. Major Thorndike turned up and started dancing attendance on Ada. I was burning to cut him out, but what could I do? I tried to play the friend and mentor, I teased her about Thorndike, gave her advice—but it was brutal. It all but tore me apart. I knew she’d accept him if he offered. Her family was too poor for her to refuse a chance like that. And, God knows,
I
showed no sign of coming up to scratch! I used to lie awake at night and think of her with him—my Ada, my only true love! It ate away at me. You have to understand, I was barely in my senses when I—did what I did.

“In June Thorndike was called to Ireland to help put down a revolt there. I hoped with all my heart some Irish rebel would do his business for him, but I couldn’t count on that. I knew he was writing to Ada—he might even offer for her by post. I had almost no time left. And then, in July, Megan wrote to me that her nurse-maidservant had given notice. I saw my opportunity. I went to visit Megan and told her I was going to reveal our marriage. But first, I said, we had to improve her household and style of living. I bought her and Rosemary new clothes, new furnishings for the house. We celebrated Rosemary’s second birthday. We hadn’t got on so well for a long time. Megan was thrilled—which is to say, she was completely taken in. Well, she’d duped
me
once, hadn’t she? Turn-about is fair play.

“I also gave Megan a new nurse-maidservant—a London girl, trained in town manners. I said she’d help Megan adjust to her new life. This girl, Selina, was really a Cyprian I’d known rather well at one time—a clever little thing, and a first-rate intriguer. She played her part to perfection. I pretended to go back to London, then I went into hiding a short way off, while Selina got familiar with the routine of Megan’s household and won her
confidence. Then one evening she gave Megan a sleeping draught at dinner and went off—with Rosemary.

“I’d arranged everything to ensure they couldn’t be traced. They changed horses privately, so Megan wouldn’t be able to find out where they stopped or what direction they went. I saw to it they got well away, then I went back to London. Selina left Megan a note from me, warning her not to tell anyone I’d taken Rosemary if she ever wanted to see her again. I said she had only to give me a certain letter, and I’d restore Rosemary to her and support them both for the rest of their lives. I would have done it, too. I know that doesn’t make what I did any less monstrous. I was desperate, that’s all.

“What happened then was stalemate. Megan wrote to me, swearing she’d never give up the letter. She said she wouldn’t buy back her child at the price of declaring her a bastard. But she didn’t dare tell anyone we were married, or that I had taken Rosemary. You can see what she was afraid of. She was a lawyer’s daughter—she understood her position all too well. I understood it, too—I’d learned a good deal about the law myself by then. Since Rosemary was born in wedlock, for all intents and purposes she belonged to me, not Megan. And Megan would have the devil of a time getting me to give her up, once I had nothing to lose by asserting my rights as Rosemary’s legal father. I could have Megan declared unfit, insane, anything. And my governor would have stood by me, and what could Megan do against
him
? There are times when it’s damned convenient, being an earl’s son.

“So there we were. I refused to give her back Rosemary. I also stopped supporting her, so she couldn’t keep up the cottage anymore, and had to sell off everything she had, just to pay her debts. What can I say?—I thought it would bring her to heel faster. But she wouldn’t give in. She searched the countryside for Rosemary. Meantime, I went to the cottage after she left and searched high and low for the letter. Neither of us found what we were looking for. Stalemate, as I said.

“About a month ago, Megan came to London. She turned up at my house one night, and I was shocked at the change in her.
She was dirty and haggard, and her clothes were soiled. I told you she was mad, and I think she was a little, by then. I think we both were.

“She started by pleading with me to give Rosemary back, but pretty soon she flew into a rage. I’d ruined her, she said, I’d left her penniless, ripped her daughter away, she’d been a respectable woman once, how could I make her live like this? And I said it was all her fault we were in this mess, if she hadn’t tricked me into marriage none of it would have happened, and—oh Lord, never mind the rest! No one can torture each other like married people.

“Megan begged me at least to tell her if Rosemary was all right. She was afraid she might be sick, neglected—even dead. I wasn’t brute enough to keep her in suspense about that. I said Rosemary was safe; the women I’d sent her to live with were taking good care of her. What kind of women? Megan wanted to know. And, God help me, I said: The kind who don’t marry.”

“And was that true?” asked Julian.

“Oh, yes, it was true. Rosemary’s in a convent in France. But Megan jumped to a different conclusion. I meant her to. She thought Rosemary was in a knocking-shop, and she was livid. But she still wouldn’t give in. It all ended with her rushing off into the night, and I was left fearing I’d be tied to her, stuck in this nightmare, for the rest of my life.

“I don’t know what she did for the next few weeks, except that she watched me a good deal. I’d look out of the window sometimes at night and see her in the street. And she chalked a letter
R
, for Rosemary, on my door, and slashed another one in the hood of my cab. It wore me down. On top of everything else, I was getting over head and ears in debt. That convent’s expensive, and I had Selina to pay off, too. By the time I picked you up” —he turned to Sally—“all I wanted was to rest for a little while and forget about everything.

“The next morning, I ran into Thorndike at my club. That was the first I’d heard he was back from Ireland. I dashed off to see Ada, and she confirmed she meant to have him if he offered
for her. He did, the following week. I made up my mind: Megan still had the letter, but Thorndike wouldn’t have Ada—not if I could do anything about it. I offered for her myself, and my poor dear love accepted. Not long before, I’d have cut off my right hand sooner than offer it to her, knowing I was already married, and the truth might come out at any time. But it’s funny how, once you’ve done one base thing, it’s easier to do another. It’s as if your conscience is worn away. I meant to marry Ada, if that was what it took to keep her from Thorndike. Because I loved her, I was prepared to go through a mock wedding with her, make her my mistress—Ada, the purest angel, the sweetest, most trusting—” He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. Anyway, it was madness, a terrible risk. Megan could have scuttled the whole thing at any time, just by producing my letter.

“I thought she meant to do just that. She came to see me as soon as she heard about my engagement, and we had another row. She said I’d never marry another woman while she lived. I said she’d better give me the letter, or I’d have her locked up as a madwoman. And if she tried to harm Ada, or did anything to frighten her, I’d kill her. She was in a white rage when she left—and ran smack into you in the street. I suppose that was why she left that message—told you to ask me what I’d done with Rosemary. She wanted to make trouble for me, but that was as far as she dared go.

“She played another little trick a few days later—sent Ada an envelope through the post with nothing in it but some dried rosemary. Megan is—was—devilish clever. She knew just how to keep me off balance, without pushing me too far.

“Well, that’s the story.” He turned to Sally. “You can see why, when I got your note this morning, I thought it was about my letter to Megan. I didn’t know who you were, or how you’d got mixed up in my affairs, but I was prepared to pay you heaven and earth to get the letter back. But since I didn’t know what I was letting myself in for, coming here tonight, I brought a pistol. Which I didn’t have when I got home, by the way.”

He looked meaningfully at Sally, who opened her eyes innocently. “Keep it,” he told her, with a faint smile. “You may
need it—you seem to have a knack for getting into dangerous company.”

“Thanks,” she grinned. “Say, you’re in luck, ain’t you? You has everything you wants. You has the letter, you’re shut of Megan for good, and your Ada don’t have to know nothing about it.”

“You don’t understand.” Avondale smiled sadly. “And neither did Megan, when she said I’d won. I haven’t—I’ve lost. Because, you see, I can’t do to Megan dead what I could do to her alive. I always meant to take care of her and Rosemary, if only she’d give in and relinquish her claim to be my wife. That she should die, and Rosemary should be left without a mother—I never intended that. What Megan wanted above all—” He broke off, looking bleakly at her corpse. “She wanted legitimacy for her child. She died striving for that—following me to this place, getting into the middle of your quarrel with those men. I can’t deny it to her now. Tomorrow morning—or, rather, today, it must be long past midnight—I’ll go to Ada and tell her everything. And I expect I’ll lose her. When she finds out how I’ve deceived her—what I meant to do to her—that will be the end.” He paused, then finished steadily, “Then I’ll go to the family lawyers and lay this whole business before them, so that they can do whatever has to be done to get my marriage to Megan recognized. This should be all they need to set the wheels in motion.” He held up the letter.