The Iron Road (21 page)

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Authors: Jane Jackson

BOOK: The Iron Road
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As he realized the significance of those small pieces of paper, he sprang from his seat and strode to the window, trembling as he stared out across the park

‘James? James, what is it?’ Chloe’s eyes were wide and anxious.

He returned to his seat, but reluctantly. This was no time for sitting down. He wanted her in his arms, close and protected, while he destroyed her remaining illusions. He longed to take her hand, but dared not in case someone should come in.

‘Chloe,’ Strain roughened his voice and he cleared his throat. ‘It is my belief that your husband holds these IOUs because it was to him your father lost his money and his estate.’ He watched as she tried to grasp the implications.

‘But … but they were friends. Are you saying Gerald deliberately bankrupted my father?’

He remained silent.

‘But that would mean …’ Her voice fell to a whisper. ‘Gerald drove my father to suicide. No. No, I can’t believe that. It can’t be true. For if it was, why would my father have asked Gerald to take care of me?’

‘Would you say your father was a man of honour, Chloe?’ James asked gently.

‘Yes. Of course I know that in many ways he was weak.’ Her chin rose and her eyes glistened with tears. ‘But he was a true gentleman …’ Then, as she saw what he meant, she gave a small pitiful cry and her lips quivered uncontrollably as she forced herself to face the reality on which her marriage had been based.

‘Honour demanded that if my father could not pay his debts, then he must take his own life. And honour demanded that his
friend
take responsibility for the welfare of his only child.’ The tears spilled over and ran unheeded down her cheeks, now as pale as candle wax. ‘Surely he could not have known … James, was it planned? Did Gerald drive my father to his death to gain
me?’
Her expression betrayed her horror and revulsion.

But she didn’t wait for an answer, the words spilling out as she put the pieces together. ‘I was young and naive. Gerald knew that despite my father’s dissolute way of life,
I
had been strictly brought up. My innocence was his protection. If I did not know, I could not question. He surrounded me with people whose jobs depended on my continuing ignorance. He was so kind, so generous. Yet all the time …’

As she raised eyes haunted and desolate, James saw her remaining beliefs about her marriage crumble as surely as the viaduct had done. ‘I had no idea.’

‘Of course you didn’t.’ His bitter anger made him harsh. ‘How could you? You were the only innocent in all this.’ He leaned forward. ‘Chloe, you cannot stay with him. Not now.’

‘No,’ she agreed, utterly drained. ‘No, I must leave. And soon.’

‘Please, Chloe, let me –’

‘No.’ She drew herself up. ‘No, James. I know you want to spare me any unpleasantness, but I must do this myself. It was
my
father he –
my
inheritance he took. It is
me
he has used and cheated and lied to. So
I
will tell him it is over. You must not be seen to be involved. He would twist everything and try to blame you. In fact, it would be wiser if you left now. He could be back at any moment. Also I need time to prepare myself.’

At the drawing-room door he prevented her opening it by placing his hand against one of the panels. ‘I love you, Chloe. Nothing he does, or threatens to do, can change that. Nor will it keep us apart. If you want me, I’m yours; body and soul, for the rest of our lives.’


If
?’ She choked on the word, her eyes star-bright as she smiled. ‘How can you doubt it?’ Reaching up she touched his cheek with her fingertips.

Catching her hand he pressed his lips to her palm. Then, unable to stop himself, heedless of the risk, he took her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his own.
Gently, don’t frighten her.
For an instant she was utterly still
.
Then shyly she slipped her arms around him as her lips clung, warm and sweet, to his own. Her impassioned response filled him with a joy too great for words. He could only murmur her name as he brushed his lips tenderly over her cheek and temple before returning to her mouth.

When he released her, drawing on willpower he didn’t know he possessed, she looked as pink and dewy as a morning rose. She opened her eyes. Her slow smile held the radiance of a sunrise.

‘I had no idea …’ she whispered in awe.

James laid his palm against her face. ‘Come to the hotel as soon as you can. I’ll book a separate room. You will need peace and privacy to recover.’

She nodded and turned away, but not before he glimpsed the flicker of uncertainty and disappointment.

Amused and deeply touched, he reassured her. ‘It is only temporary, my love, until we decide where we are going. Meanwhile, we delay the gossip for as long as possible. But I will never be far from your side. Believe me; every moment we are apart, I shall be suffering the torments of hell.’

She smiled, secure again. But he would not know a moment’s peace until she had left this place forever.

‘Chloe –’

‘Don’t worry, James. I’ll be fine.’ Smoothing her hair, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

After seeing James leave, she turned to the butler. ‘Hawkins, I want to be informed the moment my husband returns. Immediately, do you understand?’

‘Yes, madam.’ A twitch of surprise cracked the butler’s customary impassivity, but Chloe was already on her way upstairs.

‘Leave all that, Polly. I want a trunk packed.’

‘What,
now
, ma’am?’ Polly straightened up, the half-folded wool jacket forgotten.

‘Yes, now.’ Chloe picked up her silver-backed brush and comb from the dressing table.

‘But – but – Where are you going, ma’am?’

‘Away. I’m leaving.’

‘For
ever?’
Polly’s voice rose to a squeak.

‘Yes, for ever. Now will you please start packing? Use that one. It’s not too heavy.’ She pointed to a reinforced leather trunk presently half-filled with winter clothes. ‘Tip what’s in there onto the bed. I’ll send for them later.’

‘Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, and please don’t take me wrong, but are you sure you know what you’re doing?’ Polly cried, taking an armful of underwear from Chloe and laying it carefully in the now-empty chest.

‘Yes,’ Chloe replied firmly, removing several dresses from the armoire. She turned, looking directly at her maid. ‘Had I known before what I know now, I would have done it a lot sooner.’

Polly’s face flamed. ‘Oh, ma’am,’ she whispered. ‘I’m some sorry.’

Laying the dresses down for Polly to fold, Chloe walked past briskly to fetch two jackets with matching skirts. ‘A little late, don’t you think?’

‘I don’t blame you for being mad at me. But, ma’am, I didn’t have no choice, not if I was to keep my job. See, what with the doctor’s bills and everything for mother – There’s only me. I couldn’t have got pay like this anywhere else.’

Thirty pieces of silver?
Chloe bit the words back. Polly had been a victim too.

‘Please, ma’am,’ Polly began tentatively after they had worked in silence for a while. ‘I know I got no right to ask, and I wouldn’t if it was just for myself but I’ll have to get another job and without a reference I got no chance of anything half-decent.’

Chloe paused. ‘I’ll need a little time to think about it.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ As Polly continued packing, resignation bowed her shoulders. Yet, Chloe noted, she still took pains to ensure neat folds and minimal creasing. She had always taken pride in her work, and had asked for lessons in hairdressing so her mistress would always be up to date with the constantly changing fashions.

Within the limits set by Sir Gerald, Polly had been a great comfort, as well as an excellent lady’s maid. Chloe had grown from a child into a woman in her care. It would not be easy to find a replacement.
Did she want to?

‘Now I think of it,’ Chloe said, ‘I do know of a position that might suit you. The wages are not as high, but they would be sufficient to ensure your mother’s care. You might well have to travel abroad. Of course, the lady concerned would require absolute loyalty and total discretion as her circumstances are … unusual.’

‘Ma’am, they couldn’t be more unusual that they were under this roof. I promise the lady would never have no cause for complaint.’

Chloe smiled. ‘Then say hello to your new mistress.’

But as Polly’s eyes widened in realization and relief, Chloe heard a carriage on the drive. ‘This will have to do for tonight.’ She closed the lid. ‘Go now and pack your own things. We’ll be leaving as soon as I have spoken to Sir Gerald.’

Polly frowned anxiously at her mistress’s dusty habit and the escaped wispy curls that framed her face. ‘Do you want to change first, ma’am?’

‘There isn’t time. Besides, Sir Gerald’s good opinion is no longer of any importance.’

As Polly opened the bedroom door, a breathless Ellen arrived on the threshold. ‘If you please, ma’am, Mr Hawkins said to tell you the master’s back.’

Chapter Nineteen

Chloe entered the drawing-room as the butler set a glass of sherry on the small table beside her husband’s chair.

‘Dinner in twenty minutes, Hawkins.’ Resting his head against the shiny leather, Sir Gerald Radclyff closed his eyes, his expression weary but triumphant.

‘Sir.’ The butler bowed. ‘Ma’am,’ he acknowledged Chloe in passing and withdrew, closing the door.

‘Good evening, Gerald. Where have you been all day?’

‘Really, my dear,’ he remonstrated, eyes still closed. ‘I should not have to remind you that it is not a wife’s place to question her husband’s movements.’

‘I think you would agree that it is not something I make a habit of,’ Chloe responded. ‘However, there was an accident today. Not here,’ she added as he opened one eye. ‘The viaduct collapsed just after the train had crossed. Fortunately no one was hurt. But I thought – I didn’t know you weren’t on it until Ingram Coles told me.’

His mouth twitched. ‘Well, as you see, I am unharmed.’ Turning his head, he smiled and closed his eyes again. ‘As for the viaduct …’ He shrugged one shoulder. ‘The company is doomed anyway.’

Reluctant, but drawn, Chloe moved to the chair opposite. ‘What do you mean? Why?’

‘There has been a run on the banks. One of the major finance houses in London has declared bankruptcy, and railway shares are tumbling. By tomorrow their value will have fallen by two-thirds. Already dozens of companies and contractors have folded. As far as Ingram Coles and his shareholders are concerned, they’ve lost everything they invested.’

Chloe’s hand flew to her mouth, her concern less for the directors than for all the ordinary people who had been persuaded that their hard-earned money would be totally safe. She had read the brochures and heard the directors’ speeches, promising a handsome dividend as well as the prestige of being part of an historic venture. Now those promises lay in the rubble at the bottom of the valley.

‘I’ve spent the entire day at the telegraph office in contact with my brokers. I had a feeling about the market.’ He sighed with satisfaction. ‘My gambler’s instinct. It never fails me.’

Chloe caught her breath sharply, pierced by his words. But he didn’t notice and smugly continued. ‘I managed to sell dl my railway and other relevant shares before the real panic began.’ He smiled at her. Despite a complexion grey and lined with fatigue, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. ‘The Radclyff fortune is undiminished.’

‘I’m delighted for you, Gerald,’ she said politely.

His eyes narrowed a fraction, but his tone remained light, almost bantering. ‘Do I take it you are displeased with me for not telling you my change of plan? I did not see the necessity. Matters of finance are not your concern. And had the viaduct not collapsed you would never have known of my absence from the party.’ His frown deepened. ‘Is there a reason for your remarkably untidy appearance?’

‘Yes,’ Chloe answered calmly. She folded her hands, amazed at her
detachment.
Was she in shock? Or was it just that, having lived with such extremes of emotion over the past weeks, she had gone past feeling anything?

‘After the accident I naturally offered hospitality to the directors, their wives and guests while carriages were made ready to take them back to Falmouth. They were here for quite some, time. When …’ She hesitated. She would not lie, but nor would she compromise James. ‘When everyone had gone, I went upstairs to begin packing. In the light of all that has happened my appearance did not seem particularly important.’

‘Not important? You astound me. In fact I cannot believe you are serious. Quite apart from the example I expect you to set – Packing?’ He enquired sharply. ‘What packing?’

‘I’m leaving you, Gerald.’ There it was. The end of the charade: the severing of a marriage that should never have happened. The room seemed to hold its breath. The clock on the mantelpiece tocked loudly, matching her heartbeat.

Heaving a sigh he made a dismissive gesture. ‘Chloe, I’ve had a difficult day and I’m tired. I am most certainly not in the mood for such nonsense.’ Taking a large gulp of his drink, he rested his head once more. ‘Now, kindly go and change.’ He waved her away with a limp hand. ‘I have no wish to eat dinner in the company of –’

Taking the IOUs from her pocket, Chloe tossed the bundle onto the low table between them. At the soft thud his eyes flew open. But as his gaze fell on the small, ribbon-wrapped package not a muscle twitched. Such total impassivity, she realized, was what made him such a good gambler,
and so dangerous.

As he raised his eyes, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. ‘Rifling through my desk, Chloe?’ he said softly. ‘You disappoint me. What am I to think of someone who –?’

‘Had you given me the money for Mrs Mudie to pay the tradesmen, I would never have entered your study, let alone looked in your desk. So I would never have known.’

‘Known what?’ His perplexed smile was so convincingly innocent that for an instant she wavered. ‘My dear girl, what have you been imagining?’

‘No, Gerald. You explain them.’

He sighed once more. ‘It’s perfectly simple. I knew your father was in deep trouble financially, and because of it he was in danger of … well, shall we say, of doing something foolish. So I took it upon myself, as his friend, to pay off his debts. I did not want him to know it was I who had done it. But somehow he found out. Being a proud man, a man of honour, he could not live with the shame.’ He shook his head in sadness.

Chloe nodded slowly. Wanting to believe the best of him that was exactly how she had explained it to herself: the straw she had clutched at. Until James had outlined the alternative: that this man she had loved and respected had played cards with her father and, after gradually winning most of the Polglase estate, had set his sights on her.

She had been the ultimate prize, the perfect disguise. Married to her he was untouchable, the rumours proved groundless. Thus he could continue his double life secure in the knowledge that few would willingly believe such behaviour of a
married
man.

She must not think of James now.
‘You never thought it necessary to tell me?’

‘My dear, how could I? Your father was dead, and by his own hand. You were devastated. You needed care and the security that had been so lacking in your life. My only concern, as your father’s friend, was to spare you further suffering.’

‘So you
married
me?’ Her incredulous laugh was perilously close to a sob.

‘Come, Chloe, no bitterness. I promised to arrange –’

‘It didn’t occur to you that I might be interested in the fact that you had acquired my family home, and my father’s estate?’

He spread one hand. ‘No, my dear, it didn’t. There was no reason for you to know.’

‘But what if I had found out? As, indeed, I have.’

He moved one shoulder casually. ‘Really, it’s of no consequence. Given the difference in our ages I am sure to die before you, and as my wife you will inherit it all anyway. So, now you know, let us put it all aside and –’

‘No, Gerald. Oh, you’re so convincing. But then you always have been. I really believed you loved me.’

‘I do love you.’ His voice was unexpectedly hoarse. Seeing her wounded incredulity he added, ‘In my own way. Chloe, I didn’t choose to be as I am. Believe me, it has caused me more grief than you can ever comprehend. But none of us can help our nature. It is something we are born with.’

‘Then why,’ she cried, ‘did you not stay with others of your kind? How can you say you love me, yet do what you did? What kind of love is it that lies and cheats?’

‘You don’t understand.’ For the first time his mask of impassivity cracked and she saw his desperation. ‘I had no choice. Chloe, I have wealth and status, a position in society. But in the eyes of the law I – and men like me – are beasts, loathsome and abominated. I could be sent to prison for doing – for being what nature
and God,’
he laughed harshly, ‘made me.’

Gazing at him, seeing the depth of his torment, despite all her own suffering she felt a sharp twist of sympathy. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered.

His expression changed: hope turning to quickly hidden triumph. ‘Come, Chloe, we can –’

‘No, Gerald.’ She cut him short with quiet finality. ‘I meant what I said: I’m leaving.’

‘Have you thought,
really
thought, about this? I could cut you off without a penny.’

She nodded. ‘Yes, you could. I expect you will. But before you do I want my father’s house returned to me. Legally it may belong to you, but morally it’s mine. I also want enough money to pay the navvies two weeks’ wages so they won’t starve while they look for other work.’

He stared at her in disbelief. ‘This has gone far enough.’ He was brisk, impatient. ‘You are being ridiculous.’

‘It’s a small price to pay for my silence, Gerald,’ she said gently and saw the flicker of shock and realization in his eyes.

His knuckles gleamed white as he gripped the glass and swallowed the last of his drink. ‘How could you?’ he whispered. ‘How can you hate me so much, after all I’ve given you?’

She resisted another pang of pity, recognizing his ploy. ‘Indeed, I have learned a great deal in the past four years. I don’t hate you, Gerald. I loved you.’ She saw the quick leap of hope.

‘Then –’

‘I said
loved.’
Interrupting him was something she would not have dared to do a fortnight ago. ‘I don’t any more. But nor do I have the heart, or the strength, to hate you.’

His very lack of expression told her she had struck deep. He gestured in dismissal. ‘Well, if you are determined to go I will not stop you. But at least have the common sense to wait until the morning. It could be dangerous on the roads. Particularly if the navvies –’

‘Thank you, but I prefer to leave now.’ Chloe knew she was in greater danger by remaining here than from the navvies. Knowledge was power, and she had too much. ‘It’s not yet dark, and Polly is coming with me. As soon as the financial arrangements are confirmed I will be leaving Cornwall for a while, so you will suffer minimal embarrassment and will be free to continue living as you always have.’

He stared at her as though she was a stranger he had never seen before. She was no longer the grateful, eager-to-please child he had manipulated to suit himself. They had both been living a lie. But while he had done so deliberately, she had not even known.

Still wearing her riding habit Chloe clutched her small reticule between gloved hands and gazed out of the window as the barouche swayed and jolted down the drive. Her trunk and overnight case together with Polly’s bulging carpetbag were piled on the seat opposite. The sun had set in a glory of crimson and gold, and streaks of high cloud glowed deep pink against the paling sky.

‘Beg pardon, ma’am, but can I ask where we’re going?’ Polly settled her hat more firmly.

Chloe ’s reflection smiled back at her. ‘The Royal Hotel at Falmouth.’ She did not look back.

Two days later Tom stood in the queue with the rest of the gang moving slowly nearer to the table set up outside the shop. Sitting on a rickety old chair, the bank official looked hot and uncomfortable in his black suit and stiff white collar. His pale face glistened and his hair was slicked down and shiny with pomade. Next to him sat Mr Santana with Lady Radclyff alongside.

The engineer had made a little speech telling them it was only through Her Ladyship ’s kindness that they were getting paid at all. She had gone pink, and Tom thought he’d never seen her look prettier.

‘Name?’ The clerk dipped his pen in the squat ink bottle and carefully drew it across the edge to remove the excess.

‘Tom Reskilly.’

The clerk looked at Bernard Timms, who ran a stubby finger down his list, then gave a brief nod.

‘It’s not that I don’t trust them,’ Tom had overheard the engineer explaining the lists and checks to Lady Radclyff, ‘but navvies are coming and going all the time. Some gangs stick together for the duration of a job. Others change almost daily. In those cases no one recognizes anyone else, and a man’s name is whatever he chooses to call himself. I want to make sure that everyone entitled to pay gets it, but only once.’

Tom had seen her give the engineer a quick shy smile. It had been obvious from the first time he saw them together that Mr Santana admired Lady Radclyff. But now, though they were both so polite and proper, it was plain as day just from the way they looked at each other that there was something more between them.

Envy, rare and powerful, mocked him. Was he going to leave without even trying? Pride was a fine thing. But where he was going the winters were bitterly cold. Pride didn’t warm a man’s bed, or his heart. All right, so he didn’t have much money, certainly not as much as her. But he could make his way. He had enough for his fare and to get a start. What he lacked in cash he made up for in a strong back, a hunger to learn, and determination to succeed. If he didn’t ask, he’d never know. If she turned him down … He’d deal with that when the time came.

‘Make your mark there,’ the bank clerk pointed.

‘I’ll
sign,’
Tom said, unable to mask his pride. Taking the pen, he wrote his name with care.

With the cash in his pocket reassuringly heavy against his thigh, he crossed to the shanty, ducking his head automatically as he went through the doorway. Veryan stood at the table chopping vegetables. Davy sat by the fire, his chin on his knees.

Tom hesitated. He had hoped to find her alone.

Davy looked round. ‘All right, Tom?’ He tried to grin, and Tom saw his grubby face was tear-stained.

‘I’m better for seeing you two.’ Sticking his hands in his pockets he fingered the coins, awkward in his uncertainty. ‘Where’s Queenie then?’

Veryan glanced up. ‘She said she was going in to see Davy’s mother for a minute.’ Indicating the boy with a sidelong glance she gave her head a tiny shake. ‘Bessie isn’t well.’

‘She isn’t ill, she’s drunk,’ Davy said, hunching his shoulders. ‘She wants my money. I know she’s me ma, but I don’t have to give it to her, do I, Tom? She’ll only use it for more drink. Then I won’t have nothing to buy food.’

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