Winterwood (20 page)

“You only did what you was asked. How can they blame you for that? If they were sane—”

“Sane?” said Lavinia sharply. “Of course they are.”

“I’ve sometimes had fears about the mistress. For years now—she has these tantrums—far worse than Miss Flora’s. The master looks so worried at times, my heart bleeds for him. Bertha says”—Eliza looked around quickly, lowering her voice—“she locks her door against him. Ever since Master Edward was born—”

“Come and help me pack,” Lavinia said quickly. Only by action could she stop herself listening too avidly, asking questions, behaving no better than a gossiping servant.

“Oh, miss!” Eliza came back to the immediate problem. “Miss Flora will break her heart. And her so much better since you’ve been here. You’ve no idea. Bertha and me used to say we hadn’t heard her laugh for a twelve-month. All the money in the world isn’t going to make up to her for losing people she loves. Both you and my lady in one week! I don’t know, miss. Couldn’t you consider it?”

“And be called a thief, or worse!”

“We all know you’re a lady, miss. But this’ll put Miss Flora right back. And after her moving her toes and all.” Eliza was too gentle to accuse Lavinia of cowardice or selfishness. “It’s not my business, of course. I only know I’ll miss you, too.”

Lavinia abruptly silenced her.

“Don’t flatter me, Eliza. It’s no use. You don’t understand half the situation. I must go.”

Halfway through packing her meager belongings—her simple shifts and petticoats, not much more trimmed than a servant’s so that there would be no remarks by laundry maids, her Sunday buttoned shoes, and the despised blue gown, her diary, whose key she wore round her neck, although its entries, made from an overcharged heart, were few and far between—Eliza came in with the half-finished silk gown.

She held it up against Lavinia saying, “The color does suit you, miss. It’s clever. Miss Flora does have taste. She’ll be ever so disappointed not to see you wear this, seeing she gave it to you.”

“Eliza,
stop
it!”

Eliza stared, round-eyed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you, miss.”

“No, you only meant to drive the nail farther into my heart.”

“I’m sorry, miss. Truly. It isn’t as if I’ll be here long myself, probably.”

Lavinia was startled out of her own self-pity.

“Are you planning to leave? Have you another situation?”

“No, but after this—what with one thing and another—”

“You won’t be blamed, Eliza. I saw to that.”

“No, but—there’s other things. I declare I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you frightened of something, Eliza?”

Eliza gave her a quick look, and lowered her eyes.

“I’ve done nothing to be frightened of. It’s just—” Suddenly she began to cry, her apron to her face. “I miss my lady, that’s the truth of it.”

That was how Mrs. O’Shaughnessy found them, Eliza still sniffing, and Lavinia, set-faced, closing her trunk.

“The master wants you in the yellow parlor, Miss Hurst. Will you come down at once?”

“Certainly, Mrs. O’Shaughnessy. It was good of you to come and tell me yourself.”

Mrs. O’Shaughnessy had never declared herself either for or against Lavinia. She had maintained a remote, dignified silence. But now there was the slightest hint of sympathy in her voice.

“The fewer servants who know about this the better. It will be easier for you after.”

“After what?”

“After you continue your duties, I don’t doubt.”

Lavinia made no comment on that assumption. She asked politely how Mrs. Meryon was now, since she had been somewhat distressed and agitated. Had she developed one of her headaches?

Mrs. O’Shaughnessy looked grave.

“The doctor has been sent for. She was in a state of prostration, I hear. Bertha’s sitting with her now. It’s natural for her to break down, of course. She has been too calm since poor Lady Tameson’s death. But a will reading is always the hardest to be borne. That’s what my mother used to say. The dead speak again and it’s a terrible shock. But I mustn’t stand here chattering. The master is waiting.”

It was clever of Daniel to choose the yellow parlor in which to see her. He knew it was her favorite room. In this cozy and intimate atmosphere they might perhaps be able to part without ill will.

He was standing with his back to the fire. She thought he might have been angry, or persuasive, or cool and distant. She hadn’t expected this quiet sadness. At first he just looked at her without telling her to sit down. Then he gave a faint sigh and said, “I had thought we were friends.”

It was an unfair attempt to weaken her resolution. She refused to be touched by it.

“Your wife said intolerable things. How can I stay after that?”

“Is pride so important, Miss Hurst?”

“Are you suggesting a person in my position can’t afford that indulgence?”

“Don’t twist my words. You know I didn’t mean that.”

Lavinia was gripping the edge of the table. She mustn’t tremble. She mustn’t let her color grow too high and show her agitation.

“Then perhaps you will tell me what you did mean.”

“Miss Hurst, I can’t keep you here against your will. Much as I would like to. But let us get two things clear. What are you going to do if you leave? And what is Flora to do without you?”

She had no answer to either of those things, and he knew she hadn’t. Yet he didn’t look triumphant. He continued to give her that quiet, melancholy look.

“If Flora didn’t imagine that movement in her feet today, then there is a very good chance that she will recover. But her condition, as you probably realize, is a nervous one. The doctors call it a hysterical one. She seems to be slowly coming out of it—due entirely to you, Miss Hurst.”

He waved aside her disclaimer.

“I am not trying to influence you. I am merely stating the position. If Flora has a setback now, her recovery will be postponed for a long time, perhaps forever. And all her great-aunt’s money won’t compensate for that.”

“You’re suggesting that if I go, Flora will have this setback?” Lavinia asked stiffly.

“I’m not making a suggestion, I’m making a statement. It’s sad, but true. I realize the unfairness of putting this burden on your shoulders, but tell me, Miss Hurst”—his dark serious gaze was inescapable—“is your pride more important than Flora’s chance of recovery?”

“If you put it like that,” Lavinia said angrily, “of course it isn’t. Aren’t you exaggerating?”

“No.”

“Put yourself in my position, Mr. Meryon. How would you stay in the house of someone who hated and resented you?”

“If you mean Charlotte, that isn’t strictly true. She’s very angry with you now, I admit. I don’t know exactly what her aunt led her to believe when we visited her in Venice, but she had apparently built great hopes on obtaining a fortune for Edward. It’s not as if the boy will ever be penniless, but he won’t inherit Winterwood, and that rankles with my wife. It’s perhaps unfortunate that Edward is so much her favorite child. However, when she is in a calmer state she will realize that none of this is your fault. She has these—emotional storms.”

He had expressed Charlotte’s condition politely, but from the darkness of his face Lavinia suspected his anxiety was much deeper. The mistress locked her door, Eliza had said. She laughed in the night. She collapsed from the violence of her emotions…

“I myself am delighted for Flora. The old lady couldn’t have done a better thing. Although I confess I hope the fortune isn’t too large. That could be as much a burden for a young girl as if it were too little.”

“What about the new wing you hoped to build?” Lavinia couldn’t help asking.

Daniel shrugged. “That must wait.” He looked at Lavinia quizzically. “Did you think I had made a bargain in Venice, too?”

“It is only natural to plan.”

“Well, thank you for giving me the benefit of the doubt. But we are getting away from the point. If you still intend to leave us, I will order the brougham to take you to Dover in the morning. But where will you go? What will you do?”

“Isn’t that also getting away from the point?”

“By no means. It is the point.”

“Mr. Meryon, you have enough concerns of your own not to worry about mine.”

He regarded her thoughtfully.

“Your parents are dead, you have no fortune, you are alone in the world. Now you intend to throw yourself on the mercy of whatever strangers might offer you a living. I can’t allow this to happen.”

“You
can’t allow it to happen!”

“No, Miss Hurst. Did you misunderstand me?”

Lavinia felt the color creeping in her cheeks.

“I thought it was—you were—entirely concerned for Flora.”

“Not entirely.”

She had no answer now. She could only look at him.

“In other circumstances—” he began, then checked himself. Walking across to the window he said aloofly, “Naturally I would be following your welfare, Miss Hurst. Or at least I would like to be doing so. If you remain at Winterwood, that makes it so much easier for me. But I won’t persuade you. And I won’t remind you of Flora’s state when she finds you gone.”

“You won’t persuade me!” Lavinia exclaimed in a choked voice. “When not one word you have said has been other than persuading me. You are unfair! Bitterly unfair! You use soft words, which you know are far more effective than anger. You know that you are tying me here. Every day—”

Now he was watching her closely, his eyes brilliantly dark.

“Every day?”

“The ties grow harder to break. What eventually am I to do? Tell me that.”

“Shall we take each day as it comes, Miss Hurst? Let us concentrate on small essential things. First you go upstairs and unpack your trunk. Then you make your peace with my wife. You will find her quite rational and reasonable now. I know the course of these emotional crises. She will admit her unfairness. Then, after that”—he looked whimsical now; he really seemed to be cheering up rapidly—“you will quietly see if my daughter can repeat her
tour de force
at the graveside. If it really does seem that she has some movement in her toes, then we will make an excursion to London to see the specialists interested in her case. This by no means needs to be a visit confined to doctors’ rooms. We can do shopping for Christmas, and see the sights. Flora will find that amusing, and so, I hope, will you. Have you seen all the sights in London in your past, Miss Hurst?”

Lavinia had one moment of apprehension that Daniel might guess too much about her past before she let the growing pleasure show in her face.

“I am not as worldly as that, Mr. Meryon. But this excursion—”

“We will take Eliza. Or Mary. My wife won’t consider coming. She has a nervous horror of doctors’ rooms and indeed of traveling in the cold dark weather. Oh, don’t look like that, Miss Hurst! This isn’t a bribe designed to persuade you to stay. You have already made that decision. Haven’t you?”

“You know I have,” Lavinia said in a low voice.

He took her hand.

“Just take each day as it comes, Miss Hurst.”

And now she knew that he wasn’t using her, for Flora’s sake or anyone’s. He never had been using her, except in the sense that he did not want to be without her. She almost believed that he loved her. She did know that they both knew how to embrace pain. And that, accepted like this, pain was almost a wild, violent happiness.

T
HE SERVANTS
WERE WHISPERING
about the mistress. She had been shut in her room since yesterday, and no one but Bertha had been allowed to see her. Bertha was not one to talk. She went about with a dour face, saying no more than that the mistress had been ordered complete quiet by the doctor. She would be confined to her room for several days. She was to have a strengthening diet, and no worries.

Nevertheless, the stories were spreading. Phoebe had whispered to Lily, and Lily had told Mary. Mary, who was not one to keep secrets, related all the confused stories to Lavinia. The mistress had been raving, she had screamed if the master came near her, and had said that if that Mr. Peate came to the house again she would send for the police and have him arrested.

Doctor Munro had had to give her a draught that made her sleep for twelve hours without stirring, and when she had come to she had weakly asked for Master Edward, but would see no one else. The little greyhound slept beside her. Master Edward had stayed with her for ten minutes, and then had fidgeted and whimpered, and said he didn’t like his mamma sick in bed, he wanted to go and play with his new toy soldiers. So the mistress, poor thing, was quite alone, except for her dog, and Bertha going in and out. She was a poor mazed creature…

That was Mary’s story. Lavinia suspected it was highly embroidered. (Why should Charlotte want to have Jonathon arrested?) She forbade a word of it to be told to Flora. But Flora’s sensitive mind had picked up enough. She woke the morning after Lady Tameson’s funeral in a quiet, and seemingly indifferent mood. Lavinia knew her well enough not to coax her out of it. It was better that she stay quiet, conserving her strength. When this strange heavy atmosphere left the house, she would get back her spirits. In the meantime the daily exercises and massage must be kept up, and perhaps the miracle would occur again and Flora would find she could move her toes.

At least she knew nothing about Lavinia’s near desertion of her.

In the light of a new day Lavinia realized how selfish and impossible that scheme had been. She was committed to Flora until she walked again. That was the truth of it. All other considerations were of minor importance.

Daniel had given orders that at present Flora was not to be told about the fortune her great-aunt had left her. He was afraid that emotion at Lady Tameson’s last gesture would be too much for her. It was better to let her grief grow less acute. Not that she could be expected to understand the significance of owning a palace in Venice, a fortune in stocks and shares, and a great deal of very valuable jewelry. She was too young to realize that, crippled or not, she would now be a prey to fortune hunters, and that if she did succeed in walking again she would be able to choose among the most eligible young men in England.