The Crimson Bed (38 page)

    The baby began to wail at this minute and Ellie rose and went to take the little one from Tippy's young sister. The child's puckered little face looked full of pain and sadness but it was hunger, nothing more. How could such a mite even begin to comprehend her loss?

    Ellie, shushed the child and said, 'Where's the wet nurse you engaged, Henry? The child is so hungry.'

    'She's... somewhere... I don't know,' he said dismissively.

    'It's me, Miss,' said a young woman who had been standing looking on the scene with a rather vacant expression on her face.

    'Well, get on with feeding the child,' snapped Ellie, giving the little one over to the girl. 'Take her into the other room and look after her needs. Do you have to be told?'

    The girl looked at Ellie sullenly and took Eleanor off, the child crying all the louder at the smell of the milk laden breasts, the little mouth puckering and head twisting desperately about to try and find them.

    Henry seemed totally disinterested in his child and Ellie spoke to Fred quietly.

    'We must take the child home, Fred. We can't leave her here.'

    'Can't one of the sisters take her?'

    'They can't afford a wet nurse and Henry just seems to have forgotten the child and you can see that girl he's got is useless. I'll hire Jane's sister, she has just had a child, I know and will have plenty of milk to spare and be glad of the extra money.'

    Fred looked over at Henry who refused to move from Tippy's side.

    'Maybe you're right. Yes, we'll bring the child home until Henry comes to himself and the funeral is over at least. I shall tell Joseph to stay here meanwhile and keep an eye on Henry for his condition is certainly alarming.'

Mary and Charles welcomed the new arrival with delight.

'Is it our baby, Mama?' asked Charles.

    'No, darling, she is Uncle Henry's baby but we shall love her and look after her till he feels better. He's very unwell just now.'

    'We shall play with her and love her,' said Charles, taking the little one on his lap as if he had done so all his life while Mary gently stroked the tiny little feet and hands and exclaimed over them with delight as if the baby was some doll for her amusement. Ellie smiled and in her heart wondered if Henry now wanted this poor little child. It was as forsaken as if it was an orphan. Her heart swelled with sympathy and she felt as much love for her little namesake as if it was her own child. She owed this to Tippy. It was her little goddaughter. There was plenty of room here for another one until Henry found his feet again. Maybe even another wife. He was not the type to be alone for long.

They came to Henry's little parlour and viewed the open coffin with Tippy lying there resplendent in her best dress, the one she had worn for her wedding. Ellie looked her last on that sweet face. The billowing corn-coloured hair had been left loose about the body and she looked so serene, peaceful and lovely.

    At the funeral, Henry threw a rose into the grave with a great sob of grief that went to everyone's heart. Even Fred could not doubt the sorrow his friend felt and put his arm about him, helping him away from the scene as the earth began to thud against the coffin lid and Tippy's beauty was concealed forever from this world.

    Back at the house, Tippy's sisters had arranged a small collation but Henry could eat nothing.

    'Come,' Ellie tried to coax him,' you must take a glass of wine at least, Henry. I do believe you've eaten nothing for days.'

    'Nor want to,' he said. 'I can't live anymore.'

    'Henry, you must live, for the child's sake.'

    He made no reply.

    'Come, Henry, pull yourself together, man! You must make
some
plans, some provision,' said Fred. 'Do you intend to stay on here at Chelsea?'

    Henry waved his hands as if to ward off any thought or decision. 'I don't know. I don't want to live anywhere. Nothing seems to matter anymore. I don't want to live without Tippy.'

    'You must stay with us,' said Ellie looking at Fred in alarm. 'He must, Fred.'

    'Of course,' Fred said at once. 'Come back home with us, Henry.' For there was no knowing what Henry might do in his present state of mind.

    'No, no,' said Henry, composing himself a little, 'I will stay on here where my memories are. Don't worry, I won't shoot myself. Forgive me. I can't abide company just now. I need to be alone. I'm churlish, I know but that's how it is.'

    'Well, you have no need to be worried about little Eleanor. We will take care of her till you decide what to do for her welfare.'

Henry's furthest thought was his baby daughter. His wife was all he ever cared for. Her loss was unbearable and cruel.

    When the mourners had all left and the house was empty and quiet, he stood for a while staring, listening as if trying to call back his wife's spectre.

    'Tippy, Tippy... I miss your voice, your scent, your laughter,' he said aloud but there was no answer and he bowed his head with the finality of it. He could weep no more. Although he was exhausted, he dared not go back to their bedroom. Nor bring himself to sleep alone in that bed without the comfort of his wife's presence.

    He would take himself off to the nursery where a bed had been made up for the nursemaid, now dismissed. That would do well enough for now. Joseph was due back soon and could stay in the spare guest room.

    All he had now was her portrait. He went to his studio and gazed at the unfinished picture T
he Watcher in the Storm.

    'I knew it,' he murmured to himself, 'I had a presentiment she might die. To hell with children! I don't want ever to see that child again – she murdered her mother!'

    He was ready to take a knife and slash the picture to pieces but something stayed his hand. It was all he had of his beloved Tippy now. Her painted face gazed over the troubled sea with a look of fear and anxiety. Oh, yes, somewhere inside him he had known.

Chapter 34

Ellie took Tippy's death much to heart, remaining very depressed and sad for some time. She became so thin that Fred actually noticed and began to feel worried about it. Was Tippy stretching her arm beyond the grave to pluck his own dear love as well?

    'You won't have my Ellie for company up there,' he murmured to himself as he watched his wife slowly climbing up the stairs to her room looking weary and dejected.

    'Would you like us to go away to the seaside for a little?' he asked. 'The children will enjoy it and it might make you feel better in your spirits.'

    'It would indeed be a change.'

    They made arrangements and intended to leave the next week. Fred, however, was obliged to postpone their trip. He was called away to Liverpool in connection with some commissions for the new gallery, which was to open that autumn in Bond Street. Ellie said she would wait for his return and then they would go to Eastbourne with the children.

    'Why not go now and I can join you later,' Fred said, 'no need to wait for me. I shall only be a day or two.'

    'I have things to do at home, and the children have lessons to complete. We must discuss the arrangements for Charlie who will be going to school in preparation for Eton eventually. How thankful I am that Dillie arranged it all so early and secured him a place there.'

    Fred was glad of the place at Eton but not so delighted to be in debt to Dillinger for it. However, he said nothing as usual. He generally kept his opinions to himself knowing it was the one subject that always made them quarrel. All the same, the very mention of that hated name and Ellie's desire to remain at home made a sudden thought come to his mind to trouble him and fill him with dark suspicions. He hated himself for it but could not help the fact that these ideas and feelings grew until they had become almost an obsession with him.

Fred had been away for a day or two when, to Ellie's surprise, Lord Dillinger called upon her one morning. It was very seldom that he ever visited her at her own house, certainly not uninvited. He knew it was not her 'at home' day so she was doubly surprised as Dillinger was always punctilious about such matters. She was busy sorting out the menu for dinner with the cook, seated in her little back room that overlooked the garden when the maid announced him.

    'Why, my lord, how nice to see you! I thought you were still in Hertfordshire.'

    She rose to greet him, mindful to address him formally before the servants. He bowed to her and kissed her proffered hand with a soft brush of his lips.

    'I came back to London yesterday,' he replied.

    He seated himself at her request near the table at which she still had open her account book, her papers scattered about.

    'I'll leave the rest of the menu to your discretion,' Ellie told the cook. 'I am sure it will be as delightful as it always is.'

    Mrs Thompson smiled and said, 'Certainly ma'am,' and made a little curtsey in the direction of Lord Dillinger as she left the room. He nodded his head in a perfunctory manner, his face as always stern and forbidding. Mrs Thompson went away thinking what a miserable old so-and-so he was and hoped that he would not be invited to stay to dinner. She knew from previous visits that he was always highly critical and hard to please. Naturally, he never said anything deprecatory to his hostess but the maid always reported that one could tell by his manner he was fussy over whatever he ate, his nose wrinkled up in slight disgust, the plate soon pushed aside and brought back down to the kitchen half eaten. Mrs Thorpe never took the least bit of notice and seemed to be highly indulgent and kindly towards the miserable old fellow. Well, her mistress was a good-natured lady, no doubt about it and should be used to it, the master was that particular as well.

    When Mrs Thompson had left the room, promising to send up the maid with some refreshments, Ellie turned towards Lord Dillinger and looked at him, a slight frown on her brow, a question in her eye, wondering if there was any special reason for his call. She gave him her sweet smile of welcome. He smiled back. His smile always transformed those stern features and made them ineffably gentle and tender but few except Ellie ever had the fortune to see him like this. It was one of the things that drew Ellie to him. She loved the way that smile changed his harsh, unbending features and loved the fact that she was one of the few people who could bring that change over him.

    He looked very drawn and tired and Ellie put out a hand and touched his own. 'You don't look yourself, Dillie, is something the matter?'

    He roused himself a little and said with a peculiar forced lightness, 'I have just been visited by the doctor. My health is not very good. I am getting old, so what else am I to expect?'

    Ellie felt tears sting her eyes when he said this. If she was to lose Dillie as well as Papa and Tippy!

    'Please, Dillie, do consult another doctor, get another opinion,' she said. 'I couldn't bear anything to happen to you.'

    'My dear child,' he said and he looked at her in a very strange manner,' I think you alone care about me in this world. I suspect that no one else will miss me when I go. My son George will be delighted to inherit me, Charlotte has her new relations to care for and a child on the way while Benjamin has become a wild young fellow who seems bent on going to the Devil gambling and wasting his talents. What, one wonders, is the point of one's children? They care nothing about me but see me as an encumbrance, no doubt.'

    'Dillie, this is all nonsense! Your children love you dearly. They may be a little afraid of you but then you're such a stern old thing, you know. That doesn't mean they don't love you.'

    Lord Dillinger smiled a little, 'Am I so stern, Ellie? Do you find me so?'

    '
I
don't. But then you are different when you are with me. If only you could be so gentle and loving all the time. People would not be so afraid of you. I'm not a bit afraid of you and well you know it. You spoil me. I don't deserve it.'

    'You do deserve it. You are the sweetest girl, I know, my dear. I am grateful for your affection and friendship.'

    Ellie was puzzled. It was unlike Dillinger to be so gloomy and to seem so vulnerable.

    She took his hand again and chafed it gently.

    'Don't be so sad. What is it, Dillie? I feel something troubles you.'

    He took her hand in his now and kissed it gently,

    'I
am
troubled a little, my dear. There, I must speak and tell you the truth. I have just been informed that I have not very long to live. I didn't mean to say anything, it's unmanly of me. But I felt the need of some tender company and it is to you that I am immediately drawn at such moments. You are very dear to me, Ellie.'

    'You are dear to me too. Oh, please don't tell me you will die! You must consult another doctor, go abroad... anything that is needed! '

    Ellie choked back her sobs as the maid knocked at the half open door and brought in the tray of refreshments. She nodded and thanked the girl without looking at her and waved her away. The girl sensed her mistress was upset and stared at her curiously before going downstairs to the kitchen to make her report on 'summat odd going on up there with that old Lord.'

    Dillinger leant back in his chair and sighed.

    'My dear, I am not the least bit afraid of death. In fact, it will come as a relief. However, there are certain things that I must clear up before I die. I have vital and important papers and other matters to which I must attend. Some of these will concern you.'

    'Concern me?'

    'There are things that need to be put in order. This is not the time or place with your servants always in earshot. Will you come up to Oreton Hall in a day or so? Bring the children and their governess. You can bring Mulhall too. I will send the carriage for you. Is it possible? Please come, Ellie. It is a deeply important matter I wish to discuss with you.'