Obsession (33 page)

Thus it was that with her head bent over Brook’s body as she willed him not to die, Harriet was unaware when Felicity suddenly managed to extricate one arm from the belt securing her body to the tree. Tyler, walking back to pick up his gun from where he had placed it by some trees, turned as he heard a sudden piercing scream, and saw Felicity hurrying towards the couple. She stopped momentarily to pick up a stout branch of wood lying by the dead horse. Then she reached Harriet’s side and, screaming hysterically that Brook belonged to her, raised her arm ready to bring the branch down on Harriet’s head. Her hair was now in a wild tangle about her face, which was distorted with hatred. Even from some distance away, Tyler could see that her eyes were blazing like those of someone demented. In that single moment, he was in no doubt whatsoever of the mad woman’s intent. Simultaneously, he realized he could not cover the distance between them quickly enough to prevent the blow being struck. He reached instinctively for his gun, pulled back the safety catch, and took aim.

Seeing him do so, Felicity gave a wild laugh and raised the branch still higher above Harriet’s head. ‘He’s mine! Mine! Mine!’ she screamed, and was still screaming when, believing he had no other alternative, Tyler pulled back the trigger and fired.

I
t must be all of twenty-four hours ago, Harriet thought, that she had gone into labour. Bessie had sent for the midwife who had come up from the village and examined her, and gone away saying Harriet would have to wait a while yet before her baby arrived. To Bessie she confided that she intended having a word with Dr Tremlett as she feared things were not as they should be with Mrs Edgerton.

Not really frightened by the intermittent pains, Harriet had no wish to be left on her own and was happy to have her faithful Bessie sitting with her.

There was no sign of Brook. He had been in a coma for over a month before he had regained consciousness, and it was a further eight weeks before Dr Tremlett had pronounced his complete recovery. However, he had not regained any memory of the accident. According to the doctor, this was not unusual and he had assured Brook that he might recall events in the future.

To Harriet’s distress, there had been no change in Brook’s attitude of indifference to her or to Charlie. Hastings, Brook was told by the doctor, had been instrumental in saving his life by his prompt action following Brook’s fall. As a consequence, his valet had received a generous recognition in the form of a gift of one of the cottages in the village for himself and Bessie when they were married the following summer.

The gamekeeper, Tyler, had also received recognition for saving Harriet’s life. Surprisingly, it was not from Brook but from Paul Denning. Paul had not put in an appearance at Hunters Hall but had written to Brook apologising unreservedly for what had happened. Felicity, he wrote, was now safely locked up in secure accommodation in an asylum, there to remain until the doctors in charge of the mentally-ill patients declared it safe to release her. His sister owed her life, such as it now was, to their gamekeeper who had aimed at her arm rather than her body in order to prevent her carrying out her intention to harm Harriet. He wrote further that he was temporarily in England in order to arrange the sale of Melton Court as he was to live in France with Denise, now his bride, who he had secretly married shortly after he had dealt with Felicity.

Brook had not commented on Paul’s letter when he had handed it to Harriet. Nor had he shown any interest in the inquest which had followed the shocking discovery of Ellen’s body washed up on a south coast beach. The matron of the nursing home where her sister died had given evidence that Ellen was seen by one of the nurses to jump off the end of the Brighton pier and drown; that she herself had thought Ellen had appeared unhinged with grief when attending her late sister’s funeral. The coroner had, therefore, not hesitated to give a verdict of suicide.

‘Best not think about such things, Miss Harriet!’ Bessie had said. ‘The master may not have said so but there ain’t no doubt it were Ellen as stole your letter you wrote to the lady on the ferry, and showed it to him. As for Mrs Goodall’s letter setting that trap for you, the master told Hastings that Ellen had showed it to him and confessed she was being paid by that wicked woman to spy on you. Good riddance, I say!’

It had been a huge comfort to Harriet when Bessie had replaced Maire. So devoted was she to the little boy, she made no demur when Harriet was obliged to employ a new lady’s maid. Being as close as they were, Bessie had mirrored Harriet’s hopes that the baby Harriet was expecting – Brook’s baby – would bring about their reconciliation. The previous day, however, Doctor Tremlett’s visit at the request of the midwife had given cause for concern. Not only was the baby in the wrong position, he told the midwife in Bessie’s hearing, which was going to make the birth a hazardous one, but he could only detect a very faint heartbeat.

It was not until early the following morning that Dr Tremlett had finally managed with the aid of the midwife to extricate the lifeless baby from Harriet’s womb. It had been no compensation for her to be told that even had the baby – a boy – survived the birth, he would not have lived for long.

Such was Harriet’s distress that she could neither weep nor sleep. Her distress at losing the baby was overshadowed by the knowledge of the consequence; that there was no longer a reason for Brook to forgive her. The loss of the baby meant the loss of hope.

Regarding her anxiously, the midwife said, ‘You must be very tired, madam. You should try and have a little sleep …’

She broke off at the sound of the bedroom door opening, then Harriet heard Brook saying, ‘It’s perfectly all right, Nurse. Doctor Tremlett said before he left that we might pay a brief visit to the patient. Now you may go and kiss Mama, Charlie, but no jumping on the bed.’

The next moment, the little boy was at Harriet’s bedside, standing on tiptoe so that he could kiss her cheek.

‘Nanny let me wear my new sailor suit so I’d look special when I saw you, Mama,’ he said. ‘Do you like it, Mama?’ He paused for a moment and then reached up his hand and touched her cheek. ‘Why are you crying, Mama? Did you hurt yourself?’

Harriet managed a smile as she replied that yes, she had hurt herself but he was not to worry, she would be better soon.

From the foot of the bed, Brook stood looking at her, an expression on his face she had never seen before – a deeply serious expression which made her catch her breath. Then he turned to look at Charlie.

‘Run along now, Charles,’ he was saying and, turning to the nurse, added: ‘Tell the new nanny she may bring the boy down to say goodnight to his mama this evening …’

Looking at Charlie once more, he said, ‘… but only if you are a very good boy.’

With a last anxious look at his mother, Charlie left the room with the nurse and Brook came over to sit on the chair beside Harriet’s bed. He was staring at her, his dark eyes deeply thoughtful as he said, ‘I want you to forgive me, Harriet. When Doctor Tremlett told me he could save only one of you – you or our child, and that I must tell him which it was to be, I knew instantly that I could not bear to live without you. I have been all kinds of a fool, Harriet – a stupid, selfish, inconsiderate husband unworthy of you.’

He paused to take a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe the tears on Harriet’s cheeks. His eyes never leaving her face, he said, ‘I took out my disappointment on you when I discovered Charlie was not my child, when I should have thought of you and how unhappy you must have felt losing yet another baby after your ordeal in Liverpool. All women need to have children, and I should have understood how you felt when that woman left her baby in your care. Without thought of your feelings, I told you to give him to someone else – that I didn’t want him in my house.’

He took Harriet’s hand in his and held it between his two. His voice was husky as he continued, ‘I didn’t want to forgive you! I thought if I hardly saw you or Charlie, I might be happy again without the constant reminder of what you had done. I fought very hard against the need, the longing, to have you back in my arms. Oh, Harriet, my love. When Doctor Tremlett told me last night that you might die, I realized I would not want to go on living if I lost you. Forgive me, my darling, please?’

It was several minutes before Harriet could find her voice through the lump in her throat. Scarcely able to believe that she was hearing the words she had prayed for for so long, she whispered, ‘Didn’t Doctor Tremlett tell you, Brook, that I can never give you the son you want – never? I can never be the wife you had hoped for when you married me.’

Brook leaned over and, releasing her hand, touched his fingers to her lips and said, ‘My darling, you have never failed to give me all a man can ask for: your love even when I didn’t deserve it. As for a son, I thought when I found out Charlie was not of our making, that if I was able to avoid him … and he was made to spend his days in the nursery with Nanny, where I did not have to see him, I could force myself to tolerate his presence in the house. But then … well, I would come upon him on his walks with Nanny, who would say, ‘There’s your Papa, Master Charlie,’ and he would come running over to me, his face alight with pleasure, or he would be helping Baldwin to water the greenhouse flowers with his little watering can and, seeing me pass by, would come running to me …’ He broke off, his voice husky when he resumed speaking.

‘Harriet, my darling, I won’t go on. The fact is, Charlie so much wanted me to love him the way I did before I learned the truth. I tried so hard not to do so! But I did, I do! I love him very much although …’ he added with the glint of a smile, ‘… nothing like as much as I love you. Say you still have a little love left for me. Say it is not too late!’

Harriet had no need to speak through her tears. She simply took his hand in hers and pressed it to her lips. He stayed with her until at last, exhausted, she fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was nearly teatime. Bessie was standing looking out of the window. Hearing Harriet move, she said, ‘So you’re awake, Miss Harriet! It’s been a beautiful day. Nurse said not to wake you. The master has been out riding and has just returned. He just looked up at the window and waved his hand. I think he thought it was you standing here. He looks right handsome on that new black horse of his and Charlie quite the little man on his pony. The groom is just going to lift him down … but no, his papa has dismounted and he is doing so. I just wish you were well enough to come to the window to see them, Miss Harriet. Such a very happy picture they make!’

Harriet didn’t need to go to the window. She guessed that this was but the first of many ways Brook intended showing her how deeply he loved them both.