Behind The Horseman (The Underwood Mysteries Book 3) (18 page)

“Yes, but I will not!”

“That, of course, is entirely your own affair, but if I may be so bold, how do you intend to live?  Do you have some future plan which encompasses the health and welfare of both yourself and your child?”

“No.”

Stark and to the point.  Once more Underwood could only be grateful that Verity was not in the vicinity.

“As someone who is, unfortunately, old enough to be your father, allow me to give you a little advice…”

“I will not go home,” she burst in passionately.

“I was not about to suggest any such thing – in fact, in your present condition, I feel to do so might not be quite so simple a matter as you seem to believe.  Unless you have extremely loving and understanding parents, the chances are that whilst you might be welcomed home, your illegitimate offspring will most certainly not.”

Her lip trembled, but she controlled any hint of tears as she replied coldly,

“I am only too aware of that.”

“Then you are not quite as silly as you presently seem,” he said severely, “My suggestion lies in quite another direction.  You appear to view Mrs. Rogers with considerable animosity, based on the information provided by her son, that she was the sole reason he could not marry you.”

A distinctly stubborn look came over her face; “I know it!”

“Then it might interest you to hear that Mrs. Rogers had no knowledge of your existence.  She did not ignore you today from pride or malice, but because Godfrey never told her about you, or your baby.  He never at any point had the slightest intention of marrying you.  He also had no reliance upon his mother for money – on the contrary, he held the purse strings after the death of his father.  He gambled and wenched away his whole inheritance and was about to sell the family home to raise more money to be frittered away on his own selfish pleasures.”

She was ashen, even her lips had the blue-tinged appearance of bloodlessness.

“I … I don’t believe you,” she whispered, stuttering over the words.

“Yes, you do.  In your heart of hearts you have suspected as much from the very first, knowing that if Godfrey was really a man of honour, he would have waited until he could marry you, and not taken his pleasure of you without benefit of clergy.  You are not stupid, or wicked, Cassie, merely young and in love – and he took full advantage of that fact.”

He held her gently while she wept, reflecting grimly that for a man who hated tears, he had to bear a great many – and mostly caused by other men.  When the torrent had eased, he did as he always did, and sacrificed his handkerchief.

“I think we should both go and see Mrs. Rogers.  When you have apologised to her for your conduct at the funeral of her only son, we will explain your predicament.  I feel sure she will welcome the idea of raising Godfrey’s child with you.”

“It is my baby,” she muttered, still slightly mutinous. 

He smiled and said wisely, “Of course, but also her grandchild – possibly – and hopefully – the only one she will ever have.  Do you not think that fact might be important to her?”

She raised a tear-soaked face to him, her lashes engagingly spiked with the wetness, giving her the appearance of extreme youth, “You are such a good man, sir.  You could have turned me away, but you did not.”

He found he could not confess how much he had longed to do just that, and how relieved he was that he seemed to have found a solution which would not involve the disturbance of his own comfort.

*

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

(“Temporis Ars Medicina Fere Est” – Time is a great healer)

“Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?”

She shook her head, utterly deflated now, her whole body sagging with a depth of despair at which Underwood could only guess, never having been either destitute, or indeed heavily pregnant.  He had waited patiently, not wanting to thrust hard decisions too quickly upon her, but time was ticking inexorably away and he was eager to return to Verity.

All too easily he could recall the emotions of youth – for young she was, sixteen or seventeen at most.  When Elinor had died he had known, beyond any shadow of doubt, that he would never be happy again; the rest of his life spread before him like a vast, lonely, barren desert.  He could not imagine the easing of the pain; the dulling of the empty ache which had replaced the excited beating of a loving heart, full of hope for the future.

He wanted to tell her that the agony would end, that time, in spite of all indications to the contrary, and despite the triteness of the sentiment, really did heal wounds, eventually.

Of course he told her none of this.  He knew it would be a waste of breath – for that was the other thing he remembered of youth, the utter selfishness, and the incontrovertible certainty of always being right.  In all his years of teaching he had never met a young person who did not think all adults were a mere two heartbeats away from death, and had long forgotten, or never experienced, the follies and passions of youth.

Instead he continued, in the fatherly vein he had adopted towards her, “Do you have any money?  Forgive the impertinence…”

“No, no, not at all.  You have, at least, earned the right to question me.”

“I don’t know how you came to that conclusion, but thank you.  I must own it would make my task much easier if you would allow me to direct the situation for the present.  I shall pay for you to spend the next two or three nights here, whilst I arrange for the meeting with Mrs. Rogers.  I feel she should be given a little time to grow used to the idea of your existence.”

“Oh no!  Pray do not even suggest it.  I could not allow you to pay my shot…”

Underwood hid a smile; that vulgarism, which could only have been culled from a man-about-town like Rogers, betrayed her childishness, and utter inability to take care of herself in a harsh world.  He held up his hand to halt the flow of protest,

“My dear child, I am about to become a father myself, and if I thought my wife could be in your situation, alone in the world, uncared for, with no one to help her, I would be horrified.  The very least you can do is allow me the honour of helping you.”

The tremulous smile and the look of intense relief in her eyes told him that she would offer no further resistance.  It also told him that she was not quite as hardy and lower class as he had at first imagined.  She had dreaded the thought of managing without a roof over her head.  The boy, Patrick Carter, had shrugged his shoulders at the notion of a night spent in a barn – but Cassie did not.  The thought occurred to Underwood that her family might just want to know where she was.

“Where do your family live, Cassandra?”

“Stockport.”

“How came you to meet Rogers?  I dare swear he was never in a provincial town in his life.”

“I was sent to stay with an Aunt in Cambridge to be her companion when her husband died.  My papa thought it would keep me out of mischief – there had some little incident with a young man who wanted to court me, but my father thought I was too young.  Godfrey was living with Dr. Russell at the time.  We met whilst I was out walking my Aunt’s horrid little dog.”

Underwood knew a moment of pure astonishment.  He was fully aware that Theodore and Rogers had known each other; they had made no secret of their association, but he had not realized that far from being a day student of Dr. Russell, Rogers had also been his lodger.  He did not quite know why, but the news seemed rather important.

It made his sense of urgency to get home even more acute; yet he must further delay his departure, for he ought to call on his brother before the day was much more advanced.

He called the landlord to him, made the necessary arrangements for Cassandra to be given a room, overcoming that gentleman’s scruples at having a pregnant woman under his care with a large gratuity then took himself off to the vicarage.

*

Gil was in his study; not seated at his desk which was strewn with papers, but staring moodily out of the window.  He turned when he heard his brother enter the room and summoned a smile, “I’m glad to see you, Chuffy.  I could not bring myself to talk to anyone after the funeral, but I would have words with you.  How is Verity?”

“Much better, thank God.  I think she might be allowed to sit downstairs tomorrow.  She is utterly weary of her bed, and I do not blame her.”

“That is good news.”

Underwood made himself comfortable in a deeply-upholstered chair, “Did you want to say anything in particular, Gil, or were you just anxious about Verity?”

“No, I wanted to talk to you about the arrangements for Catherine’s funeral.”

“Very well.”

Gil left the window and took a chair which faced his brother, “Alistair wants to attend – but I cannot help but feel he is too young for such a melancholy event.  I can think of no sound more final than that of a clod of earth hitting a coffin lid, and he is such a little boy.  To know he will never feel his mother’s arms about him again…”

Underwood drew in a deep breath.  He did not know what to say.  Gil, of course, was quite right in what he said, but who were they to deny the child the right to say his last farewell to his mama?  After a moment he spoke, his tone hushed and measured, “Perhaps it could be arranged for someone to take him away before the end?”

Gil’s face cleared, “Of course.  How obtuse of me not to think of that for myself.  Will you perform that service for me?”

“With the greatest of pleasure,” Underwood spoke nothing but the truth.  He was honest enough to admit that he did not particularly relish hearing that final sound himself.

Having made their plans, Underwood felt he could speak of other things.

“Gil, I don’t know if you noticed her, but there was a young girl at Rogers’ funeral today.”

“The one who is to have a baby?”

“You did see her, then?  I had the notion your thoughts were far away.”

Gil smiled slightly, “Even one as preoccupied as I could not help but be aware of her condition when she attempted to throw herself on top of the lowering casket.”

“Very true.  I own it was a melodramatic moment, but her extreme youth must excuse her.”

“For my own part, I could only be glad for Godfrey’s sake that there was one person on this earth who was sorry to see him leave it.”

“Unfortunately she may have had cause to revise her opinion.  I was forced, by necessity, to tell her a few home truths.”

“I suppose you had no choice?”

“None at all.  She is penniless, pregnant, and estranged from her family.  Her only chance in life is to fall upon the mercy of the child’s grandmother.”

“How does Mrs. Rogers feel about that?”

“I was rather hoping you would help me in discovering the true extent of the lady’s maternal feelings.”

“Naturally I will do so, but what will happen if Mrs. Rogers decides she has neither the strength nor the inclination to begin again with a child who may very well put herself through the same torture eighteen years hence?”

“Heaven only knows.  One could hardly blame her.  Only let Verity know of the girl’s existence, I very much fear Cassandra and her baby will be my problem.”

                Gil smiled, “My dear Chuffy, your secret is safe with me.  And surely this child could not possibly follow in his father’s footsteps.”

“One would like to hope not.”

“Of course the baby may be a girl.”

Underwood gave a short, rather cynical laugh, “I trust it may.  By Jupiter, Gil, we are twice the age attained by Rogers, but we are mere babes in arms when one compares his experiences of life to ours.”

“And happy to remain so, Chuffy, or so I should hope.”

“Speaking for myself, most certainly.  Quite apart from any moral stance, my nerves would never stand the strain of wagering all I possessed on the turn of a card, or the ability of one man to knock another senseless with his bare hands.”

“Quite,” agreed Gil succinctly, “Now, you really should be getting home…”

Underwood’s brow bore his characteristic little frown, “Yes, yes…” he hesitated, then added, “Gil, there was something more.”

“Yes?”

“I want to discuss Dr. Russell with you.”

Gil’s face hardened, “I would much rather not, if you don’t mind, Chuffy.”

Underwood threw up his hands in mock despair; “There it is again.  The very reason I need to discuss the man with you is because you will not.”

Gil smiled reluctantly, “Very well, but I must warn you that you will not care for what I have to say.  If you are going to dislike my opinion, I suggest you leave now.”

“I promise I will not reproach you, dear brother, no matter what you might say.”

“Then I will speak freely.  What is it you want to know?”

“When he wrote and asked if he might visit, you suggested he had another motive.  Why was that?”

“Because he had shown no interest in being in your company since you grew out of the angelic choirboy phase.”

Underwood looked rather shocked, not at all sure he understood what his brother was trying to intimate, “I beg your pardon?”

Gil’s expression was a mixture of real anger, coupled with overwhelming pity,

“I have never wanted to destroy your innocence where Russell is concerned, Chuffy.  I have always seen your rather touching faith in him as a tribute to your acceptance of all people as essentially good until they prove otherwise.  However, the time has come for you to know exactly what has been going on.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dear fellow, Dr. Russell’s interest in you has never been academic.  He was in love with your golden curls, your air of purity and innocence.”

A blush stained Underwood’s cheeks, “Nonsense!  Your jealousy has taken you too far this time, Gil.”

The vicar did not even raise his voice in anger at such a suggestion, he merely shook his head sadly, “I knew it would be hard for you to accept, but you must see that I am telling you the truth.”

“But he never … at any time…”

Gil’s response was brisk; “Of course he did nothing!  He is a teacher, and a very good one.  I am not about to suggest he would do anything untoward, but he could not help his feelings – and had you given him the slightest indication you felt the same way …  Well, I believe it might have been a very different story.”

“Do you know this for certain, Gil, or are you merely guessing?”

“I know it – as I know he was also in love with Godfrey Rogers, and that he came here with the express purpose of seeing the boy.”

Now Underwood was thoroughly confused, “But Rogers was a notorious womaniser.  If what you are saying is true, Theodore must have known Rogers did not reciprocate.”

“You are forgetting how cruel Rogers was, Chuffy.  He led Dr. Russell on, promising more than he ever intended to deliver.  He knew how the old man felt, and he took full advantage, borrowing money he never meant to repay, knowing that should Russell ever turn nasty, he had the perfect weapon with which to blackmail him.”

Many things suddenly became clear to Underwood, and he knew without doubt that Gil was speaking the truth.

“Why have you seen these things, Gil, when I have been so blind?”

Gil reached out and briefly touched his brother’s hand, “If you are going to start lashing yourself for being obtuse, pray do not.  I have the distinct advantage of being the one man in whom people will confide all their troubles.”

“Are you telling me Rogers confessed all this?”

“He did not.  Dr. Russell did – at least, he told me about himself and Rogers.  I have known for years about his feelings for you.  That, I admit, was pure instinct.  As a boy, I often wondered why he seemed to prefer you to me, though I worked far harder.  Then one day, when he thought himself unobserved, I saw him looking at you as you worked.  The sunshine through the window was glinting upon your blond head – and he could not have displayed more adoration had the glow been a halo.”

“Dear God, tell me no more!”

“I’m so sorry.  Have I made you hate him?  That was never my intention, I swear,” said the vicar, with real sympathy in his voice.

“Not at all.  As you so rightly say, the man cannot help his feelings.  But I confess it is an unwelcome addition to any friendship to know that one person feels rather more, and differently, than oneself.  It suddenly adds a dimension which cannot be easily dealt with – at least not by me.”

Gil was not unhappy with this reply.  It had never been his intention to destroy the affection which existed between his brother and their old tutor, but he had a strong feeling that Russell himself should have confided in Underwood, when he was old enough, and not allowed him to have an alliance which was based on falsehoods and hidden emotions.