Voice of the Heart (79 page)

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Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

BOOK: Voice of the Heart
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‘And how do you know these facts, Frankie?’ the Earl inquired.

‘Nicky and Victor told me.’

‘Precisely,’ the Earl murmured.

Katharine winced at his implication. Wanting to be done with all this now, she cried, ‘And I’m not an orphan,
Frankie. My father is alive. His name is Patrick Michael Sean O’Rourke. He’s first generation Irish-American, and he lives in Chicago. I also have a brother, Ryan, who is nineteen.’ She leaned back against the sofa. The blue-green eyes were startling in their vividness and depth of colour as they darted to Doris. ‘I’m sure
you
know of my father. He is chairman of the Taramar Land Development Corporation, the biggest construction company in the Mid-west. He also has vast real-estate holdings… I guess he owns half of Chicago, and he’s heavily involved in politics, a power in the Chicago Democratic Machine.
Have
you heard of him, Doris?’

‘Yes, indeed I have.’ Doris was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. ‘But I’ve not actually had the pleasure of meeting him,’ she said as an afterthought, experiencing genuine puzzlement. She could not apprehend the reason for Katharine’s prevarication in view of her father’s wealth and standing.

Neither could Kim. He said slowly, ‘But your father sounds like a prosperous and commendable man, one who is an upstanding member of the community. You obviously don’t have anything to be ashamed of, to hide. Why ever did you tell that… that… silly story about being an orphan? It just doesn’t make sense.’

‘The reason I said I was an orphan is because I feel like an orphan. In fact, I consider myself to
be
one.’ Katharine let the words hang there, paused a beat, then shook her head from side to side with vehemence. ‘You’re all looking doubtful, but it’s true.’

No one uttered a word. They stared at her, the mingled incredulity and perplexity growing more pronounced on their faces. Despite the four pairs of questioning eyes zeroing in on her, she did not flinch, was unperturbed as they carefully measured her. She was accustomed to close scrutiny in her profession. Actresses were always in the spotlight… in the centre of the stage…

Sadness crept onto Katharine’s face, and her eyes grew excessively wistful. She looked beyond these four, her captive audience now, gazing intently at the wall ahead. She had a vision of something extraordinarily lovely, surrounded by a halo of perfect light—her mother’s beloved face. Katharine’s voice rang out with clarity and purity in the hushed room, was pensive yet underscored by the matchless musicality she had made her very own.

‘My mother was a great beauty and a great lady and she loved me very much. No child was ever loved more than I, and we were closer than I can possibly explain. She wanted me to be an actress, just as I wanted it, and she believed in me with all her heart and soul. And I… I worshipped her. When I was ten years old she became desperately ill. She died when I was thirteen.’ A sob vibrated in Katharine’s throat and tears welled. She brushed her hand across her eyes, and went on: ‘I was heartbroken, and so terribly alone. My father
hated
me… it was because of my brother. Ryan wanted to be a painter, and I encouraged this, as Momma had fostered my creative talent. My father was furious with me. He had decided Ryan was going to become a politician. He drove a wedge between us, believing I had too much influence over my little brother. He separated us, deprived us of each other when we had the greatest need to be together. Ryan was sent away to school in the East, I became a boarder at the convent. When I was sixteen, through my aunt’s intervention, my father agreed to send me to boarding school in England. I wanted to get away from Chicago; there was nothing there for me, with my mother in the grave and Ryan beyond my reach. I also knew my father wanted to get rid of me.
For ever
. So I left, and I’ve never been back. I do not have a family any more.’ The flow of words ceased; she waited.

A deeper silence seemed to drift through the room and settle there. None had moved whilst she had been speaking, and still they did not stir. Kim and Francesca had been touched and saddened by her revelations and their quickly
exchanged glances conveyed their feelings. But neither had the nerve to volunteer a single word for the time being. Both looked at their father expectantly.

The Earl’s face was impassive, told them nothing. When he did speak his patrician voice was soft, kind. ‘Hatred is a most harsh and powerful word to use, Katharine. Perhaps it’s an exaggeration of your father’s feeling for you. Being so young at the time, a child, I’m certain you misunderstood, believed hatred existed when, in all truth, it did not. I cannot comprehend any father harbouring
hatred
for his daughter—’

‘He did! He did,’ she broke in, her face whiter than ever. ‘He still hates me. Hates me, do you hear,’ she cried excitedly. She had been the recipient of
his
loathing far too often to doubt it, and the recollection of it sent a tremor through her and her dark lashes glistened with tears.

‘Now, now, my dear, don’t upset yourself like this.’ The Earl was appalled at her passionate outburst, and also concerned for her state of well being. Her agitation was only too apparent, and it struck him how much more highly strung she was than he had previously realized. He stole a surreptitious look at Doris, signalling his distress with his eyes. Doris moved closer to him, placed her hand over his lovingly.

The Earl peered hard at Katharine. ‘Are you all right, my dear?’

‘I’m fine,’ Katharine replied in a more even voice, striving for composure.

Since she did seem visibly calmer, David continued, ‘I’m afraid I’m still somewhat baffled, despite the things you have told us about your early life. As Kim pointed out, it’s hard to conceive why you would pass yourself off as an orphan. Such unnecessary complications, my dear. How much easier, and more truthful, it would have been if you had simply said you had broken off relations with your father because of a quarrel, and left it at that. None of your friends would have
probed too deeply under the circumstances. The English are notoriously uncurious in certain areas and not inclined to be presumptuous. And certainly
we
would have accepted your story completely, indeed been most sympathetic.’

‘Perhaps you’re right, David,’ Katharine acknowledged in a slightly grudging tone. ‘But I was very upset and miserable when I started classes at RADA. I had suffered the most terrible shame and embarrassment at boarding school in Sussex—you can’t imagine how unhappy I was.’ Her Up quivered and the tears brimmed, slid down her cheeks unchecked. ‘I was the odd girl out. I was the only one who had to spend holidays at school alone with Matron. I had nowhere else to go,’ she whispered, her voice choked. ‘
He
didn’t want me in Chicago, and my Aunt Lucy was not strong, so she couldn’t have me either. Nobody ever came to visit me at school, or attended parents’ day, or showed up for the school plays and other annual functions. Can’t you understand how humiliated I was…
I
didn’t have a family who loved me. Not one person who cared. I was unwanted. And very very lonely. It was sheer hell, and I was determined never to go through that painful experience again. So when I enrolled at the Royal Academy I invented a new name, said I was an orphan because I didn’t want to have to make excuses, explain why my father and brother stayed away, were not interested in me. I had to do it. I had to protect myself.’ The tears were falling profusely and she began to sob heart-brokenly, lifting her slender tapering fingers to her streaming face.

Kim jumped up and joined her on the sofa. He put his arms around her and held her to him. ‘Hush, darling,’ he said tenderly, rocking her, pressing her face to his chest, one hand stroking her hair. He did not care if his father disapproved of this show of concern on his part; his only thought was for Katharine. His anger had dissipated entirely, the last vestiges of his hurt were swept away. He still loved her. He could not give her up.

Francesca blinked back her own tears. Loving of heart as she was, and sensitive to other people’s feelings, she was bereft for her friend. She had always believed Katharine had been exposed to a terrible sadness, and finally this had been confirmed. It occurred to her that Katharine needed their love and understanding, not criticism. After all, her lies had not been that serious. Francesca stiffened in the chair. She, of all people, was in no position to condemn Katharine Tempest. The dismaying thought which had been sparked at the outset of Katharine’s story now nudged itself up to the surface of Francesca’s mind:
She was as guilty as Katharine
. She had not actually lied about Victor and herself, but only because she had not been questioned. Yet she had been dishonest—she had lied by omission. Sudden remorse assailed her.

Nervously, Francesca leapt to her feet, announcing to no one in particular, ‘Katharine’s very upset, I’d better get her a drink.’ Hurrying out onto the terrace, she resolved to talk to Vic in the next few days. The time for his ridiculous secretiveness was at an end. Her father must be told they were in love. Approve he might not, of that she was well aware; how much worse it would be if he discovered her underhandedness. Panic raced through her as she contemplated her father’s disappointment in her.

Doris picked up her glass, asking herself what David’s attitude would be. She was unable to formulate an answer. Katharine’s pathetic little tale had not left Doris unmoved either, nonetheless she cautioned herself to be absolutely neutral, circumspect in what she said.

Katharine’s sobs gradually abated, although she continued to cling to Kim, finding solace in his closeness. His arms so strongly holding her, his words of gentleness comforting her—these told her he was no longer enraged. Surely he has forgiven me, and Francesca will be supportive too…

‘Here you are, Kath dear,’ Francesca said. ‘I’ve brought you a glass of champagne. It’ll make you feel better.’

‘Thank you, Frankie. How thoughtful.’ Katharine took
the glass, a smile bringing a look of ineffable sweetness to her face. ‘I feel so terrible about deceiving you. I don’t know how to make it up to everyone. You must think I’m the most awful person.’

‘Don’t be so silly, Katharine,’ Francesca replied swiftly, returning the smile. ‘I’m sure Daddy understands your reasons now, as we all do. In my opinion this is just a storm in a teacup.’ Francesca flopped down onto a chair and began to fiddle abstractedly with the belt of her cotton sundress. Without realizing it, preoccupied as she was with her feelings of guilt, the worries flaring within her, Francesca had spoken sharply, a trifle dismissively.

Katharine, misinterpreting her friend’s tone, felt unusually rebuffed and hurt. She stared at Francesca nonplussed, thinking, with a tinge of bitterness: She doesn’t really understand what my life’s been like. And how could she? All of her life
she’s
been surrounded by people who adore her… Kim and her father, her cousins; the old Nanny, Melly, and the housekeeper, Val. And soon she’ll have a stepmother. I have nobody. Nobody in this whole wide world. I’ve only ever had one person who loved me. Momma.

Abruptly, Katharine placed the champagne glass on the coffee table and stood up purposefully. She said softly, ‘Now that I have told you everything, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say. I’d better go up to my room and pack at once. I’ll ’phone Victor at La Reserve, and ask him to get me a room there for a couple of nights. He’ll be upset if I don’t stay for his party. I’ll go back to London on Monday.’

Kim cried, ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Katharine. I’m not going to let you stay in a hotel, much less permit you to return to London.’ He sprang to his feet, took her arm possessively, stared at his father. ‘Surely Katharine can be forgiven, Dad. The experiences of her childhood, her humiliation and unhappiness at school… all exonerate her as far as I’m concerned. Despite my initial anger and hurt, I do feel there have been mitigating circumstances. Granted she shouldn’t
have perpetuated the he when she became involved with me, but earlier Katharine said she’d planned to confide in me this weekend, had been wanting to do so for a long time. I believe her. I also think she’s been put through quite an ordeal this afternoon. My God, she’s had to face us all, and explain her entire life, as though she were appearing before the Inquisition. Isn’t a little compassion in order now?’

Pulling himself out of his troubled thoughts, David said, ‘Of course, of course, Kim.’ He inclined his head in Katharine’s direction. ‘I think your frankness has cleared the air considerably, given us a better perspective about you and your background, a real understanding of your motivation. Yes.’ He cleared his throat, looked at Doris. ‘I’m sure I speak for you too, darling, when I say we wouldn’t hear of Katharine going to a hotel, or curtailing her vacation. I am right, am I not?’

‘Absolutely,’ Doris said at once. ‘We’ll be very upset if you leave, Katharine.’

Francesca exclaimed fiercely, ‘Oh Kath, don’t be a silly goose! You can’t go. We all love you, and we’ve been so looking forward to having you with us. I told you, this will all blow over, if you’ll let it. Please
do
stay.’

‘I don’t know…’ Katharine responded cautiously, and hesitated. Her eyes swept over them and came to rest on Kim, who was looking tense and nervous. She touched his arm lightly, and her face upturned to his was soft and appealing in its vulnerability. ‘I’ll stay then, if you’re sure you want me.’

‘Of course we want you!’ he responded, squeezing her arm.

The Earl of Langley rose slowly from the sofa, smiling benignly despite his sinking heart. ‘It’s getting rather late, and our guests will be arriving shortly. I think we’d better dress for dinner.’

‘My God, the dinner party. I’d forgotten.’ Doris was on her feet and following him across the floor. She turned at the
door. ‘The Remsons and the Brooks are due around eight. Dinner’s at nine, in the garden.’

Francesca exclaimed, ‘Gosh, and I’ve got to wash my hair.’ Rising, she blew a kiss to Katharine, then hurried out.

***

Half an hour later, after they had bathed and dressed in their evening clothes, Doris and the Earl met in the small sitting room which linked their suites, as they had previously arranged.

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