An Embarrassment of Riches (55 page)

He saw it in her eyes, and his own darkened in heated response. ‘I want you,' he said hoarsely, reaching out for her, drawing her to him. ‘Dear Christ, Maura, how I want you!'

Afterwards she despised herself and resolved never to let it happen again. Not until he came home for good. Not until he apologized for his remarks about her nationality and until he promised to treat Felix and Stasha exactly the same. Not until he finally and irrevocably ended his affair with Ariadne. He neither came home for good, apologized nor ended his affair and still, at intermittent moments like the one at Christmas, they remained physically bound to each other.

In January she received a euphoric letter from Isabel.

Lord Clanmar dislikes being a guardian and has given me my freedom! He says I can travel where I like, and that I can have control of my inheritance. Isn't it wonderful? Naturally I thanked him very prettily and naturally I am making arrangements to sail to America just as soon as I can. I can't wait to meet Alexander and see little Felix and be reunited with Kieron. Oh, Maura! We're going to have such wonderful times again together!

Lots and lots of love,

Isabel.

Maura read the letter with a mixture of joy and consternation. Joy at the prospect of being reunited with the person whom, next to Alexander and Felix, she loved most in the world and consternation at the explaining she would have to do. Isabel knew nothing about the true state of affairs between herself and Alexander. She didn't know about Ariadne or Stasha. She didn't know about the tenements that were the source of so much Karolyis wealth. Nor did Maura feel able to apprise her of all that had happened the previous year in a letter. She would explain when they met.

‘And this time Isabel will be able to be godmother to the baby without someone having to stand in for her,' she said in satisfaction to Henry.

Henry was pleased to hear it. The long estrangement between herself and Alexander was beginning to deeply disturb him. Always, before, Alexander had come to his senses and realized what an ass he had been. This time, because of the blow to his pride when it had been publicly announced that Maura was to sit on the Citizens' Association committee, things were different. Despite their having spent Christmas together, Alexander was once again in his palatial hotel suite and Maura was again alone in a house big enough to quarter an army.

‘By the time Lady Dalziel arrives in New York, the war in all likelihood will be over,' he said, determined to find something to be optimistic about.

Sherman had done exactly as he had predicted and after reaching the coast and taking Savannah, had wired Washington to offer the city to the President as a Christmas present. Henry had admired his style, if not his methods. There was talk now that Lincoln was about to meet with Alexander Stephens, the Confederacy's Vice-President, and if such a meeting did take place it could have only one outcome: a formal surrender by the South.

The end, when it came, didn't come until April. Sherman began to march his army northwards in early February. On the 18th Charleston capitulated and by mid-March Sherman was well into North Carolina. On 9 April, in the hamlet of Appomattox, Confederate General Robert E. Lee surrendered to Federal General Ulysses S. Grant.

New Yorkers poured on to the streets to celebrate. ‘Yankee Doodle Dandy'was played in every bar and on every street corner. Alexander whirled into the Fifth Avenue mansion, shouting out the news.

Maura hurried to greet him, hampered by her advanced pregnancy. The baby was due any day now and, as far as she was concerned, couldn't come soon enough.

‘What is it? What's happened? Has the South surrendered?'

Alexander had barely visited the house since Christmas and it was so good to see him again, that it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms. Instead he threw his arms around her, waltzing her round and round the Chinese drawing-room.

‘Lee's surrendered! His army has laid its weapons down and the Rebels are heading for home!'

For a brief moment it was as if all their personal problems had never existed. They were in each other's arms again, laughing and whooping in delight. Suddenly she cried out, nearly falling.

‘What is it? What's the matter?' His grey eyes were full of concern, the smile vanishing from his handsome face.

‘It's the baby,' she said, hardly able to believe the beautiful timing of it. ‘The baby is coming! Oh, stay with me, Alexander! Please stay!'

The baby came with breathtaking speed. By the time Alexander had helped her into the bedroom her pains were coming strongly and regularly.

‘Find Miriam,' she said to him urgently. ‘I think the baby is going to come before the doctor has a chance to get here.'

He stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses. ‘What do you mean “find her”? Where is she? She should be here.'

‘She should, but she isn't,' Maura said, gasping for breath as another contraction began to build up in intensity.

Alexander tugged at the bell-rope. No Miriam came in reply. Instead a footman entered nervously.

‘Tell Mrs Karolyis's maid she is wanted immediately,' Alexander rasped. ‘And send someone for Doctor Bridges and the midwife. Tell them to come
at once.'

‘Yes, sir. Straight away, sir. Only Mrs Karolyis's maid isn't in the house, sir. She's run out into the street with the other maids who are off-duty. There's such a commotion out there, sir. Bands playing and fireworks being let off …'

‘Christ!' Alexander had forgotten all about the news of the surrender. The streets would be in turmoil. It would take the doctor and midwife an age to reach them.

‘Have a carriage sent for both Doctor Bridges and the midwife with outriders to clear a way for them. Have my son's nurses sent here and be fast about it.'

‘Yes, sir. At once, sir.'

Maura eased herself on to the high bed. ‘They won't be here in time,' she said in absolute certainty. ‘I can feel the baby's head beginning to press down.' Her voice cracked in intensity. ‘The baby is coming, Alexander! It's coming now!'

‘It can't come now! There's no-one here!' He took one look at her face and blasphemed again. Never in his life had he felt so helpless and inadequate. ‘Holy Christ! What are we going to
do
?'

Despite the seriousness of the situation there was vast amusement in Maura's voice as she said, ‘What we are going to do is have a baby and you are going to have to help deliver it.'

‘For God's sake, Maura! Be reasonable! I can't poss …'

There was a knock at the door and Alexander ran with relief to open it.

Caitlin stood alone on the threshold.

‘I was told to come to madam's room immediately, sir,' she said hesitantly in her thick brogue.

With difficulty Alexander checked his rising panic.

‘Where's your sister?' he demanded tersely. ‘We're going to need her. Mrs Karolyis is in labour and she thinks the baby's birth is imminent.'

Caitlin's face lost its ruddy colour. ‘She isn't here, sir. She's off-duty and she's gone to hear the bands …'

‘Damn the bands!' Alexander ran a hand wildly through his hair. Four years of war and it had had to come to a conclusion on this day of all days. Cursing Lee's and Grant's ineptitude from the bottom of his heart, he said abruptly, ‘Go in to Mrs Karolyis and help her in whatever way you can.'

As Caitlin hastily complied with his request he shouted again for a footman, saying to him tautly, ‘Get all the female household staff together. Find out if any of them has any midwifery experience. If any have, send them here
immediately.'

‘And if they haven't, sir?' the footman asked nervously.

Alexander blanched. ‘Send a couple of the most capable here anyway. And have Haines send another carriage for the doctor in case the first has met with an accident, and
be quick!'

As the footman hurried to do his bidding he spun on his heel and re-entered the bedroom.

‘I've sent carriages for the doctor and midwife and …'

Maura wasn't listening to him. It didn't matter how many carriages had been sent, they wouldn't return in time. The character of the pains had changed. The baby's head had entered her vagina and the baby was going to make its appearance within minutes.

‘It's coming!' she panted. ‘Oh quickly, Caitlin! Help me with my clothes!'

As Caitlin feverishly complied with her request Alexander ran to the door, flinging it wide, intent on hauling some members of his female staff into the room by force if necessary.

A mature woman in a cook's uniform was hurrying down the corridor, two maids at her heels.

‘Mrs Karolyis is having her baby!' he said, wondering how he was ever going to survive the situation. ‘Have either of you ever …?'

‘Lord save you, sir. Many a time,' the cook said cheerfully, hurrying past him and into the room.

Alexander sagged against the door-jamb, too overcome with relief to care about her over-familiar manner. His relief was short-lived.

‘I can see the baby's head, madam!' Caitlin cried.

Maura's reply was an agonizing cry of pain.

He didn't hesitate. He spun round, striding back into the room.

‘Mr Karolyis, sir!' the cook exclaimed in horror. ‘This is no place for a gentleman!'

Alexander ignored her and gripped tightly hold of Maura's hand, his face sheened with sweat. This was what Genevre had had to endure and in enduring it, had died.

‘It's all right, Maura,' he said fiercely. ‘It's going to be all right …'

The cook didn't waste any more time in protesting at his presence. She couldn't afford to. The baby's head was crowning.

‘It's coming, madam!' Caitlin gasped, tears of emotion streaming down her face as the cook steadied the baby's head in large, capable hands.

Alexander stared in stunned incredulity at the scene taking place between Maura's legs.

‘It's a girl, madam,' Caitlin cried joyfully as the baby slithered, squalling on to the bed. ‘It's a girl and she's got all her toes and fingers and …'

‘And she's perfect,' Alexander said shakily, gazing in wonder at his blood- and mucus-streaked daughter. ‘Absolutely, wonderfully,
incredibly
perfect!'

‘I want one of her names to be Mary,' Maura said, pushing herself exhaustedly up against her pillows so that she could see her daughter. ‘After my mother.'

‘And I want one of her names to be Maura,' Alexander said huskily as the cook shouted for hot water and towels. ‘After you.'

She looked up at him, tears glistening on her eyelashes. They were in perfect harmony again and although she knew it was a harmony unlikely to last, at that moment she counted herself the happiest woman in the world.

‘I love you,' she said truthfully.

His mouth crooked into a smile. ‘And I love you, God help me.'

Their eyes held. It was the cook who broke in on their private world.

‘Excuse me, sir,' she said practically, ‘but as the doctor and midwife could still be quite a time, I think I should try and hurry the after-birth myself.'

‘Yes. Of course.' She was asking him to leave the bedroom and there was no longer any reason for him to stay. His daughter had been born. Maura was alive and well. And he needed the stiffest drink of his life.

He bent over Maura, kissing her full on the mouth and then, a trifle unsteadily, he walked out of the room to the sound of church bells ringing in joyous celebration of the peace.

Five days after the baby's birth Alexander had still not returned to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. He had no desire to do so, but knew that he would have to unless Maura sacrificed her own pride for his.

‘Retire from the Citizens'Association committee,' he urged her.

‘And in return you will end your affair with Ariadne Brevoort?'

‘Yes.'

The temptation was nearly overpowering, but he still hadn't said the words she most wanted to hear. He still hadn't said her Irishness and their children's half-Irishness didn't matter to him in the slightest. And she couldn't possibly lay her work with the Citizens'Association aside as if it were no more than a hobby. She closed her eyes, seeing again the terrible tenements of the Bowery and Five Points. In her imagination she could smell the filth and hear the rats.

She opened her eyes, aware that the chasm between them had widened. Even if Alexander said he hadn't meant the remarks he had made about her Irishness and about Felix and Stasha, she still couldn't be reconciled with him. Not while he was content to stand by idly while thousands of his tenants lived in conditions that would have shamed the Middle Ages.

‘No,' she said with a heavy heart, ‘I love you and I want you home again, but I can't do as you ask. Not unless you are prepared to sit on the Citizens'Association's committee in my stead.'

It was as if a shutter had come down over his face. Without any expression whatsoever, without speaking to her again, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Fifteen minutes later his carriage clattered out of the courtyard and into the mayhem of the avenue. He was gone and she had no way of knowing if he would ever permanently return. That evening, while attending a performance of ‘Our American Cousin'at Ford's Theatre in Washington, President Lincoln was shot through the head. He died a few hours later, never recovering consciousness.

Maura could scarcely comprehend the news. ‘Lincoln
assassinated?'
she said incredulously to Henry who had hurried to apprise her of the news the instant he heard of it. ‘But who by, Henry? And for God's sake, why?'

It was dawn and she was in nightdress and négligé, her hair tumbling loosely around her shoulders.