Journey's End (Marlbrook) (32 page)

Lord
Henry
relished his governing role.  His wife’s discomfort was evident and real.  “You shall remain confined until the birth. By then, I will have decided what ruin awaits you. While in seclusion, you would do well to think about what life has to offer a married woman with an illegitimate child.”

Lord
Henry moved on to more practical matters.  “Your parents are your territory, madam, I have no care as to whether you inform them or not. Their welfare or concerns are no longer my business. However, I would caution you
about
hurrying to their side with tales of fantasy. If the truth be known, I doubt their reaction will differ a great deal from mine.”

W
ithout honouring or acknowledging Emily’s presence
,
Lord Henry strode from the room
.  He could honestly stand in any courtroom and swear on the bible that he had absolutely no further interest in anything
his wife
had to
say
or
do
.

During the term of her exile
,
Lady Emily wrote often to Lord Henry
.  Her
abusive correspondence
was
repetitive in its demands for an audience. 
Naturally
, she had been ignored.

As the weeks progressed
,
Lady Emily’s hysteria had become more discernible, her writings revealed her true state of mind.  Her parents, among others, where not privy to her real predicament
.  S
he would not be welcomed in their home
,
when denied the right by her husband.

Lord Henry had given clear instructions.  All communications from his wife were handed directly to him. He would not chance any third party becoming involved.

#

The delivery boy shuffled uncomfortably before Lord Henry.  The lad was dirty and appeared troubled by the fact that he was in the presence of a Lord.  The messenger had ridden through the night
,
at speed
,
to present this latest news.

Duty ruled Lord Henry, as it had done all his life, and tonight he viewed his obligations as no different to any other.  The truth did not go on show.  Emily’s condition deteriorated daily and her mental instability gave the physicians’ grounds for additional concern.  The birth would be difficult - penance, Lord Henry supposed, for her sins.

Lord Henry had managed to contain the truth of the affair from his mother.  Emily had neglected the one person who might have given her sanctuary.  Her error was costly and her failure would be a fatal one.

In the early hours of the morning, drawn from his bed, Lord Henry read the doctor’s hastily scrawled words.  The offer of consolation was meaningless, but no one could call him inhumane.  He gave recognition to the loss of a mother and her child, tragic whatever the circumstances.

Lord Henry saw to it that Lady Emily’s demise was carefully documented, condoning a departure from accuracy.  Condemnation would not mar the history books, and their roles in this farce would not be held up for censure.  Chronicled in the annals of Marlbrook, Lady Emily’s death, due to
haemorrhaging
, was noted as a sad and unavoidable event.  Marlbrook historians would also record the birth of Frederick Marlbrook, son of Lord Henry Marlbrook
;
he cou
ld see no harm come from that.

The burial of his wife and child had been a very private affair, conducted as the snows of winter howled around the ancient chapel doors.  The heartbroken husband had been unable to attend.

#

Lord Thomas Ashley sat alone in his study, recalling the day that Henry had stepped into Laura’s life.  The man had sparked jealousy from the first, and today was no different.  Thomas’ wounds were fresh and raw.  Lord Henry Marlbrook had married Miss Laura Jennings in the company of family and a few well-chosen friends.  The report stated that the wedding had been a quiet affair.  Lord and Lady Ashley had not been required to display their pain in public - that would have been asking too much.

Thomas had always believed that Henry would eventually tire of Laura and that one day she would be free.  Anger surged
.  In
his mind
,
he had always been Laura’s husband
,
not Henry
,
and now he would have to either come to terms with the situation or walk away.  He doubted his ability to complete the latter.

Thomas bore his agony in solitude.  Maureen had not been granted any insight into his troubles and she continued to hide her pain.

#

Laura completed her journal entry with a questioning heart.  Clutching the precious book to her breast, she rocked in a slow, soothing motion.  Her thoughts portrayed in her writing were disturbing.

“The act
to which
I confess
i
s one that was made out of compulsion.  Cowardice takes many shapes and dons many faces.

The decisions made today are still not my own, but perhaps this is just the facade
behind which
I choose to hide.  The inconceivable has happened.  I have married the father of my child.  My future was decreed because his wife died.  The child, a boy, did not survive
,
which was thankful in some pitiable way.  The father was an unknown lover.

Fate is far stranger than first evident.”

CHAPTER
THIRTY-
EIGHT
– Revenge

Rows of black dotted the narrow pews of the family chapel.  Lady
Catherine
, Laura acknowledged, would have liked the pomp and ceremony that commemorated her existence.  Commoners and dignitaries alike joined to
bid
farewell
to
a woman celebrated for achieving a long and prosperous life.  Lady
Catherine
had donated a great portion of her eighty-four years to the welfare of Marlbrook - an austere and thankless master.

Laura sat alongside her husband and their three children, united in mourning the woman who had accepted Laura into her home.  Lady
Catherine
had granted her grandchildren a haven from what might otherwise have been a hostile world.  Her Ladyship’s guardian years had ended.

#

Lord Thomas Ashley sat by the fire with his glass in hand, gazing into the flames as if seeking answers there.  He was growing old.  At forty-nine years, his age dictated his lifestyle.  His children were no longer the boisterous babies
with whom
he had romped but
were now
a young man and lady.

“Sir. Father!”  The raucous cries
emitted by
his son, drew Thomas from his reflections.

“Be still
,
lad
,
for you shall do yourself an injury if
you carry on with that noise.”

“Father. Mary says that for her twelfth birthday she is to get her own carriage, but I say she is telling fibs
.”

At once, an ear-piecing scream brought the boy’s accusations to an abrupt halt.  Mary’s aim was precise and h
er target never stood a chance.

Thomas stooped to gather the book that only seconds earlier had been l
aunched from her petite hands.

“Here,
here
you two,” Thomas voiced, while parting the pair.  His stern words were tempered by the smile that he had been unable to fully conceal.  “Mary is not telling fibs
;
however
,
it is not exactly a carriage that she will receive, more a buggy. Besides, her birthday is near
ly
a year away.  Mary, you shall apologise to
your brother or receive nothing,
my dear girl!”

Harry neared manhood and stood tall at fourteen years.  He was a tough lad but life would hold some knocks if he did not heed the meaning of restraint.  His sister was his junior by eighteen months.  She had secured a pleasing combination of heritage, but she too had an over abundance of spirit and
,
like her brother
,
required a firm hand on occasion.  Thomas grinned
,
as the mental image formed of the poor husband who might claim her one day.

The quiet again descended, as the children made for the upper stories.  Their chatter echoed in the halls before gradually dying away, leaving Thomas to the flames and their subtle disquiet.

Thomas stared at the fiery swords.  The
flames
crackled and spat at him as if aware of his thoughts.  Maureen became more of a recluse with each passing year.  A casualty, she had been ignored from the first.  Thomas could not apportion any criticism in her direction.  Instead, her silent retreat forced him to accept his part in bringing about her demise.

#

At Marlbrook, Lord Henry practiced the daily ceremony of accepting a kiss from his children before they disappeared above stairs and into bed.  He had, on many occasions, silently imparted his condolences to the poor woman employed to put up with their incessant quest for answers.  Had it not been at Laura’s insistence, he doubted he would have maintained daily contact with his children.  Still, despite his protests, he could boast t
o be a man proud of his family.

“Good night, father,” Hope said, as she gently kissed the clean shaven cheek presented to her.

Hope was reserved and undemonstrative around her father, but her demeanour changed when in the company of her mother.

Equal in height to Laura, Hope could envelop her mother with ease
;
her long slender arms
were
all
-
embracing.  The freedom of their affections was depicted in the relationship between the two.

Hope had shown no signs of her birth mother’s fickleness.  On the surface
,
the girl appeared aloof, but in private she owned a lively personality and a quick mind.  She was the very duplicate of Laura, operating from a face similar to her father’s.

Bernard, their first
-
born son, had also inherited Laura’s green eyes.  A sturdy boy, he displayed a natural enthusiasm for life, one that suggested
that
unless curbed
,
would lead him a merry dance.  Their younger son, Michael, was the exact replica of his father in temperament and had looks akin to that of his paternal grandmother.

Michael was Lord Henry’s concern
, b
ut with Laura as his mother, Lord Henry prayed that she would keep him free of any inherent Marlbrook traits.

Lord Henry had settled into his advancing years
,
content with his life.  While he could not admit to being perfect, he had long since curbed his trips to the city that had seen some of his errant ways revived.  The satisfaction of returning to his wife and her bed still served him well.  Nowadays, it was only on very rare occasions that he bothered to sample goods elsewhere.

Laura re-entered the morning room and positioned herself behind her husband.  The daily routine of reading the newspaper had become an endearing idiosyncrasy that Lord Henry had taken on with age.

Laura observed him as he turned the page.  The simple action vaulted the black, thickly set headline into focus, and the words that met them altered their lives.

Lord Henry read the article out loud in an attempt to comprehend its significance.

“Mrs Sarah Pritchard, nee Townsend, wife of prominent businessman, Mr Eric Pritchard, today announced their plans to return to Mrs Pritchard’s native
England
for a short stay.  We join in wishing Mr and Mrs Pritchard a safe journey.”

A knot formed in Laura’s stomach and her thoughts instantly focused on the young woman who slept above stairs.  Hope was fifteen years of age, a girl raised in a world unaware of hardship and protected from the harsh side of life.

The newspaper item made no mention of children, so Laura assumed that there were none.  She looked to her husband and saw that his thoughts mirrored her concern.

“Laura, there is nothing your sister can do to take Hope from us
,
either legally or morally.  Her abandonment of the child would be condemned as the act of a wanton woman.  No court will condone her desertion.  And let us not forget that I am a Lord of the Realm, and it would be her word against mine.”