The Adultress (40 page)

I had forgotten we had a guest. I hurried down wondering what James would think of me. He was all sympathy. I was not to worry about him. Someone would tell him where his room was and then he would hope to see Jean-Louis when he was well enough.

As Jean-Louis was in our bedroom with the doctor I had water sent up to another and there I washed the grime of the journey from my face.

I went down to the hall to wait for Charles.

“He’s been badly hurt,” he said when he came. “I don’t know whether he will ever walk again. He appears to have lost the use of his legs.” He looked at me sorrowingly. “There is another thing: he may suffer a good deal of pain.”

“Oh no …”

“I fear this is inevitable in view of the seat of the damage. But don’t worry. We will alleviate it all we can. I will get you some laudanum and morphia perhaps. You will have to be careful how you administer them. They can be easily fatal. But I shall give you full instructions.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said. “Thank you.”

He smiled rather sadly and laid his hand on my shoulder. “A sad homecoming,” he said. “A pity …” He turned to the door and there he paused. “These things happen,” he went on. “Don’t fret. He will be my patient and you may be sure that I shall do everything I can … for you both.”

I ran to him and he took both my hands in his. Then he bent forward suddenly and kissed my forehead.

I felt a great desire to throw myself into his arms. I wanted him to hold me … to shut out the cruelty of the world … I wanted us to cling together and I to forget my guilt for what I had done to Jean-Louis and for him to cast out forever that shadow which was haunting his life.

It was over in a few seconds.

“Don’t fret,” he said again. “Everything will be all right.”

Then he was gone.

I went along to see Jean-Louis. He smiled and held out his hand.

“What did the doctor say?”

“He doesn’t seem to know what damage has been done yet. But he’ll be there to look after you, and I have great faith in him.”

“Yes,” he said, “so have I.”

“He said you might have some pain but he can give you something. And, Jean-Louis, I shall be there to look after you.”

“My Zipporah,” he said. “My little love.”

I was holding his hand tightly and he said: “You mustn’t cry.”

I did not realize I was but he had felt the dampness on his hand.

“Zipporah,” he said, “look at me.” I did. His eyes met mine steadily. “Whatever happens,” he said, “I’ve had a good life. I owe so much to your mother, who took me in … but to you most of all. I’ll never forget what I owe to you. … Whatever happens … it will always be so. Nothing … nothing could change that.”

For a moment I thought:
He knows. He is telling me he knows.

But no. He did not know that his beloved Lottie was not his. It was one of the greatest joys of his life to think that he had fathered her.

He was talking of her. She had been so good, he told me. She had been with him in his room, looking after him. “I made her go out. otherwise she would have been in the sick room all the time. She’ll be back soon and the first thing she will do is come and see me. Oh, I am indeed blessed in my family.”

“It’ll be all right.” I said. “I will look after you always.”

He smiled. I looked into his good patient face and prayed that he would not have to suffer pain.

It turned out that good sometimes comes out of evil.

Jean-Louis was very pleased to see James. They talked a good deal together and Lottie, who took a fancy to James, took him out to show him the estate.

It was three days after we had returned home when James came to me.

There was a purposeful look in his face.

He said: “Zipporah, I’ve been thinking. … With Jean-Louis incapacitated … what are you going to do?”

“The first thing is to get a man to manage the estate, I suppose.”

“I’ve been thinking … but this is subject to Hetty, of course … I’d have to see her. …”

“Oh, James!” I cried.

“Yes,” he said. “He’ll need someone he can trust … someone who speaks his language.”

“There’s only one who could give him the relief he needs.”

“I’ll come, Zipporah. Yes, I’ll come. That’s if Hester’s not too set against it. But I can persuade her, and when she knows how things are I don’t think she’ll put obstacles in the way.”

“Oh, James … James … this is wonderful.”

“All right then,” he said, “and if there’s trouble later … well, we’ll face that when it comes along.”

C
HRISTMAS WAS ALMOST UPON
us. The months after that trip to London had been sad ones for me. The forecast had been right. Jean-Louis did have a great deal of pain, and there is nothing more heartrending than to see a loved one suffer. I was grateful for the laudanum with which Charles supplied me; no doctor could have been more assiduous in his care for a patient than he was toward Jean-Louis. He would come immediately I sent for him; he comforted me, too; and Jean-Louis had such faith in him that his very presence seemed to soothe him.

Jean-Louis was stoical by nature; and it was so touching to see his attempts to hide his pain from me because he knew how it upset me to see him in that state. Charles had warned me that in the extremity of agony he might try to increase his dose of laudanum and this must never go beyond that prescribed. He had said that only I should administer it and therefore I should be able to keep a strict watch on how much he took. “Keep the bottles locked away,” he said, “and only you should have the key.”

“Jean-Louis would never take his own life whatever the provocation,” I said.

“My dear Zipporah, you don’t know the extent of the provocation.”

All this would have been unendurable if there had not been reasonably long periods when Jean-Louis was free from the pain. It could be absent for as much as a week at a time and that seemed to give us breathing space to recover and prepare ourselves for the next onslaught—and to get on with our lives.

I had engaged a governess for Lottie—rather to her displeasure. She liked her lessons with me, which were apt to be a little irregular. Now with the coming of Madeleine Carter, Lottie must be in the schoolroom precisely at the same hour every morning. She was not academically inclined and had what Miss Carter called a butterfly mind. It flitted from one subject to another. “If only it would settle,” said Miss Carter, “something might be achieved.”

Madeleine Carter was a spinster in her early thirties. She was the sister of a vicar and had kept house for him until his unfortunate and early demise which had left her stranded and forced to take on the only kind of occupation available for one in her position. She was prim, strict, very efficient; and I thought an excellent choice. It was quite clear that Lottie needed someone to curb her for she was growing decidedly self-willed, and although she was possessed of great charm she could be wayward.

The greatest piece of luck was that James Fenton was looking after the estate. He had gone home directly after our return from London to break the news to Hetty, and in view of Jean-Louis’s condition he came back to us soon afterward, leaving Hetty, as he said, to pack up.

A few weeks later Hetty came with her two children and it was good to see her again. She was happy to be back but dreaded meeting Dickon, and as he would be coming for Christmas we arranged that she and James, with their children, should spend the holiday with James’s cousin on the farm and stay there until my mother with Sabrina and Dickon had returned to Clavering. It seemed a reasonable and satisfactory arrangement.

Thus the months passed. James had been a great asset and spent a lot of time with Jean-Louis discussing estate matters and working out policy; and Jean-Louis was delighted to have someone who would carry out his wishes—and. more than that, give his wholehearted support towards what was being done. James did a great deal to raise his spirits.

My friendship with the Forsters had grown and we were often in and out of each other’s houses. Charles Forster was frequently at Enderby, and as he visited Jean-Louis at least twice a week and more often of course when I called him in during one of Jean-Louis’s bad bouts, the family had become an important part of my life.

Then there was Evalina. She had been very friendly towards me since the matter of the will. She reminded me of a contented kitten who has found a good home and intends to keep it. She was assured the comfort and comparative opulence of Grasslands: she had her baby, whom she undoubtedly loved dearly, and a good manager—and perhaps more—in Jack Trent.

It was the day before Christmas Eve when our guests arrived. Lottie and I had done everything we could to bring a festive atmosphere into the house and by great good fortune Jean-Louis was better than he had been for some time. He was able to walk a little about the room with the aid of a stick and I arranged that on Christmas day two of the men servants might carry him down to the great hall. I prayed that we could keep the pain at bay for a little while.

Lottie was devoted to him. I saw his eyes light up whenever she came into the room. She invariably brought something for him which she had picked up during her walks or rides in the fields and woods. She came in with a sprig of holly, the berries as red as her cheeks.

“This has the most berries of all we picked, papa,” she told him, “so I saved it for you.”

It was a great comfort to me to see the joy she brought him. But for what I did there could be no Lottie to brighten his days. Good out of evil. Indeed it was so.

I listened to her chatter. “This is wild clematis, papa. Miss Carter makes me learn the names. Miss Carter knows
everything
, but alas your daughter is an ignoramus, dear papa. Did you know that?”

He took her hand and his eyes filled with tears. He was very emotional nowadays. “My daughter is the best and dearest girl in the world,” he said.

She regarded him with her head on one side. “As Miss Carter would say, it depends on what you mean by best. Best at jumping, yes … Best at climbing, yes. Best at sums … no, no, no! And rather wicked sometimes. I fear, and that’s not best.”

Her chatter amused him and she knew it. She might be rebellious at times, wayward often, but she had a good, kind and loving heart.

Together we watched the men bring in the yule log. She and I pored over the lists of food we should need for our guests. There would be games. Lottie’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. We needed a lot of people. The Forsters would come, and what about Evalina Mather?

I said we would have open house at Christmas.

“We’ll have dancing and fiddlers. Do you think the fiddlers will come on Christmas night, mama?”

“We’ll promise them punch and Christmas cakes as well as money. In fact we’ll make it irresistible for them.”

She clapped her hands. She was so excited. Suddenly she clapped her hands to her mouth.

“What is it?” I said.

“I should love to see Miss Carter dance,” she said.

“She might do so very well. People are full of surprises.”

“That would be the most unlikely Christmas surprise.”

“Wait and see,” I said, and we went on with our lists.

I was happy to see my mother again. She hugged me and said we had been separated far too long. I saw the compassion and dismay in her eyes when they rested on Jean-Louis and I realized how he must have changed since we left Clavering.

And there was Sabrina looking as beautiful as ever, and with her Dickon.

He was a man now. … He must be nineteen. He stood smiling at me with that rather enigmatic look which was half affectionate, half teasing.

“Well, it is good to see you, Zipporah,” he cried. “And this is Lottie. By Gad, you’ve grown.” He had picked her up and held her above his head looking up at her.

She was laughing. “Put me down,” she commanded.

“Not until you give me a kiss.”

“Oh, so it’s blackmail is it? All right then.” She gave him a peck on the forehead.

“Not good enough,” he said. “I don’t call that a nice cousinly kiss.”

“Put me down. Put me down!” shrieked Lottie.

I did not like to see her there held up in his arms and I was irritated by, the indulgent manner in which his mother and mine were regarding him.

As I started to lead them into the house I saw Lottie kissing him again.

“Now,” she said when she was on the ground, “you must meet Miss Carter.”

“Always delighted to meet the ladies,” said Dickon.

“Miss Carter is my governess.”

“That does not preclude her from being a lady.”

“Oh, she’s that all right,” said Lottie. “In fact, she’s always so anxious that I shan’t forget that I’m one she’s forever reminding me. She’s very good at her lessons.”

“I thought it was for you to be good at yours.”

“What I mean is she’s a good teacher.”

“With the naughtiest little pupil in the world, I don’t doubt.”

I was trying not to listen to their banter as I asked my mother about affairs at Clavering.

I took them to their rooms and heard from both my mother and Sabrina how absolutely wonderful everything was on the estate since Dickon had taken over.

“I was sorry he didn’t continue with his education,” said Sabrina. “But he would have his own way.”

“I think he’d always have that,” I commented wryly.

My mother said: “He thinks a lot of you, Zipporah. He’ll be in his element talking to Jean-Louis and your manager.”

“Our manager is not here at the moment. He is with his wife. It is a good thing that he is not here.”

“A good thing!” said my mother. “I thought that Jean-Louis looks so frail.”

“Our manager, mother, is James Fenton. I don’t think either he or his wife would want to meet Dickon.”

My mother looked embarrassed and Sabrina said: “Oh, that. That all happened a long time ago.”

I said: “And since it was due to Dickon it must become a sort of amusing joke.”

My mother was shocked. “I never thought it was a joke. But it is all over now. These things are natural happenings.” I could see it was no use expecting them to understand. Dickon was perfect in their eyes and it was no use upsetting everything right at the start of the Christmas holiday.