Fragile Mask (17 page)

‘
You’ll come, too?’ asked Osmond eagerly.

‘
Try and stop me.’ In command now, Betsey grasped her
younger charge’s arm. ‘Now then, Miss Verena, up we go and make
ourselves fit to step abroad.’ Turning to the landlady, she added,
‘Mrs Quirk, you must keep watch for my mistress in case she wakes
and tell her what is going forward.’

The landlady began to respond, but Betsey was already
wagging a finger at Osmond, whose countenance, Verena saw, had
lightened a little in relief.

‘
As for you, young sir, do you go back to your wife at once.
We’ll follow as soon as may be.’

‘
Oh, Betsey,’ cried Verena, between tears and laughter. ‘You
may bully me, but don’t bully poor Mr Ruishton.’ She put out a hand
to Osmond. ‘Go back quickly. Assure Unice that we are close behind
you.’

He grasped her hand and shook it. ‘Thank you. Thank you a
thousand times.’

Chapter Six

‘
All is well, Unice,’ Verena was saying, some hours later,
stroking the limp hands that lay upon the coverlet. ‘Rest now,
rest.’

It had been a struggle, as if the tiny infant, who had at
first seemed so eager to enter the world, breaking through the
natural barriers too early, had appeared to think better of the
matter and abandoned the onslaught for some little
while.

By the time Verena and Betsey had entered the bedroom,
where the panting mother lay already exhausted by these first
efforts, the natural motions had stilled. Only Unice’s own maid and
the midwife were in attendance, and the latter had whispered
worriedly to Betsey, while Verena had run to Unice’s side, grasping
her hands as the poor woman fell into tears from weakness—and some
fear.

‘
She says my baby may be dead, Verena,’ she
gasped.

‘
Oh no, Unice!’

But the redoubtable
Betsey would have none of it.

‘
Fiddle-faddle,’ she told the midwife, and marched over to
the bed. ‘Now, ma’am. There ain’t no call for you to fret yourself
to flinders. Gather your strength, my dove, for you’ve work to
do.’

‘
And—
push!’

It had seemed to Verena that if Betsey gave this order
once, she gave it a hundred times. Poor Unice, crying throughout,
and screaming now and then as the painful process proceeded to its
natural extreme, did as she was told. Verena held her hands,
wincing as the grip tightened almost unbearably, but making no
complaint, and passing a damp cloth over the sweating face whenever
Betsey permitted a respite.

The odd thing was that the midwife took no offence at the
interference of the invading maid, but seemed rather to draw
strength from her, doing all she might to assist, until at last the
troublesome little package emerged—and began to howl in protest at
the rude misuse of its tiny person.

All four helpers fell to laughing in relief, and Verena
dropped to her knees and clasped the author of this miracle in her
arms, crying out, ‘It is just as you wished, Unice. A girl! You
have a little girl.’

Unice, her dark hair plastered wetly to her skull and the
pillow, laughed and cried together, albeit weakly.

‘
A girl? Oh, Verena! But I promise you she shall rue the day
she put me through this.’

Betsey, busy with towels and the hot water that Unice’s
maid held ready, while the midwife did her own part, overheard this
and looked up towards the wan face on the pillow.

‘
Likely she’ll give you as much trouble her lifelong. Girls,
ma’am, are ten times worse than boys in the bringing up, be they
never so much sugar and spice.’

‘
Then shall her father be the sufferer, not me,’ Unice
uttered into the general laughter.

She was quiet for some time after this, dozing a little
although she was not yet able fully to sleep, while Verena soothed
and petted her, wringing out the flannel in the fresh bowl of water
brought by Unice’s maid, and wiping away the damp stains on the
exhausted features, smoothing the lank hair, and stroking the lax
fingers.

At length, Unice’s eyelids fluttered open again. She turned
her head to her friend. ‘Verena, take her to Osmond, pray. He does
not say it, but he wanted a daughter so much.’

But Betsey insisted that Miss Ruishton must first be
presented to her mama. And once the tiny squalling babe was put
into her arms, Unice was indeed reluctant to allow her to be
removed. This time it was the midwife who called the
tune.

‘
Madam and I have some matters here to finish, miss,’ she
said to Verena. ‘It would be a kindness in you to take the babe
away for a spell. Your good nurse here and I will make the lady
presentable for her husband.’

Verena might be unfamiliar with the business of childbirth,
but she knew there were necessary things to be done after the baby
was born. Unice, already a veteran, made no objection, although she
kissed the infant and sighed as she reluctantly permitted Verena to
lift the bundle from the bed.

‘
Don’t fret, Miss Verena,’ Betsey whispered. ‘She needs her
peace now, for all she may not think it.’

Outside the room, Verena abruptly realised that Osmond must
still be worrying downstairs. They had none of them thought to send
down to the poor man to relieve him in his concern. She hurried a
little on the thought, the now sleeping baby tucked securely in her
arms.

She found Osmond Ruishton standing in the middle of the
saloon, in a listening attitude as if he waited to know if the
footsteps betokened any more than Unice’s maid once more going for
fresh water. He no sooner saw the little bundle than his hand went
up to his mouth. Verena saw him bite into his hand and understood
that he was unbearably anxious.

‘
All is well,’ she said quickly, coming into the room. ‘Have
no fear, Mr Ruishton, all is well. See! You have the most beautiful
little daughter.’

But Osmond’s first glance passed over the tiny face that
she uncovered almost unseeingly. With painful intensity, his eyes
locked onto Verena’s, and he uttered the one word.

‘
Unice?’

‘
She had a severe struggle, but it is over. She will do very
well in a few hours, I promise you.’

His shoulders sagged as a hoarse whisper left his throat.
‘Oh, thank the Lord!’ Then he dropped into the nearest chair and
threw his hands over his face.

Moved, Verena gazed at him. How deeply he cared for his
wife. So much so that the baby was as nothing compared to his need
to hear news of her.

But in a moment Osmond had mastered his emotion. His hands
dropped and he looked up, a smile beginning in his eyes. ‘Forgive
me, Miss Chaceley. I have been so anxious.’

‘
Oh, pray don’t ask my pardon. It is very understandable.’
She paused, and then added hesitantly, ‘You must—you must love her
very much, Mr Ruishton.’

‘
She is my life,’ he said simply.

Verena stared, tears gathering in her own
eyes.
Could
a man feel so strongly? And if he
did, could he be—she hardly dared to think the
word—gentle?

Osmond was rising, coming towards her, his eyes on the
infant whose passage into the world had been so very
stormy.

‘
And so this is my daughter?’

Verena made haste to offer the child, holding it out
towards him. But Osmond reached out a finger and ran it down the
smooth baby cheek, red still and tightly muscled from its recent
exertions. Watching his face, Verena saw him smile. Then he turned
his finger and the tip just brushed the minute lips.

‘
How do you do, Miss Ruishton?’ he said softly.

‘
What shall you call her?’ Verena asked.

‘
That will be Unice’s privilege,’ he said, his eyes still on
the infant’s mouth. Then he drew back, and a great sigh escaped him
as he looked up again to Verena’s face. ‘Will they have finished?
Do you think I may go to her now?’

‘
Yes, of course. At least—’ She gave an odd laugh. ‘I beg
your pardon, Mr Ruishton, but I do not know. I think it may be all
right.’

‘
She will need me,’ he said. ‘And, by Jupiter, I have great
need of her!’

Then he turned, and
walked quickly out of the room.

Verena watched him go, feeling utterly confused. For the
first time in her life, standing there in a soiled muslin gown—the
first that came to hand in her haste—and left for the moment in
sole charge of a new-born infant, she wondered if perhaps it might
be possible that a man and a woman could enjoy true happiness in
marriage.

A vision sprang full-blown into her mind. A vision of an
expressive countenance, a teasing light in its eyes of misty blue,
and a smile on its lips that turned her knees to water.

Verena sank down onto the sofa, nursing the baby against
her breasts. Why him? Why his face at such a time? She had not
thought of him in weeks. Or at least, she amended, she had tried
not to think of him. She had banished him from her mind forever
that day—the day that Unice and she had become a little more than
acquaintances.

He had left abruptly, Unice had told her, obviously
distressed. Verena had been unable, for the quite unforeseen
emotions that she herself was experiencing on hearing of the man’s
departure, to respond in any suitable way. For her heart had
stilled, and a hollow opened up inside her chest.

Unice had seen it, or had seen some reaction in her
face—unguarded for a moment—and remarked upon it. Verena had ended
by telling her just what had occurred that night, expressing her
regret if any words of hers—stupid words, provoked by some strange
emotion she did not herself understand—had been the cause of Mr
Hawkeridge’s decision to leave. Unice had been quick to pooh-pooh
any such suggestion, saying that Denzell must have had reasons of
his own of which neither of them knew anything.

It had been a small opening up on Verena’s part. But it had
been enough. Warming to Unice, she had found herself succumbing
more and more to the temptation to drop the mask. Only once had
Unice spoken of it.

‘
Dear Verena, I know there is some urge that makes you poker
up in public. But pray don’t feel you have to hide your feelings
with me. I will ask no questions. Only do not shut me out, Verena.
I so much want to be friends.’

Touched, Verena had pressed her hand, and thereafter had
resumed her mask only when others were present, including Osmond.
They had not discussed Mr Hawkeridge again, although Unice would
from time to time let fall an item of news concerning his
activities in London.

Verena persuaded herself that she was not
interested.
Had
so persuaded herself. Then why now,
in these truly unusual circumstances, should he thrust himself into
her thoughts uninvited?

She looked down again into the new-born features of the
little lady in her arms, cradling the infant closer. To be sure, it
had been a hideous entry, but it was over now—and the result! Oh,
but what joy it must be to be entrusted with a tiny soul such as
this. To hold a new life close, to nurture it thus, sweetly at the
bosom, giving of oneself even to the provision of its daily
food.

Her eyes pricked. This was not for her, could
never be. For she had dedicated her life to Mama’s salvation, and
sworn never to marry. Never to permit that intimacy—of which,
despite her maiden innocence, she knew altogether too much—that
might have given her
this.

A shadow at the door brought her eyes up. Unice’s maid
stood there. She dropped a curtsey.

‘
I’ve come to take the babe up, ma’am.’

She came forward. As of instinct, Verena’s arms tightened
about the bundle she held. The oddest feeling of possession
engulfed her. She did not want to let the baby go. But the maid was
before her, arms held out expectantly.

Verena looked once more into the sleeping face. This is
Unice’s baby, not mine, she told herself. She must give it
up.

Her clasp loosened. The bundle shifted, and the waiting
hands removed it from her arms. A pang shot through her, as she
watched the maid walk from the room, taking the baby away. It was
as if she took with her a part of Verena’s heart.

Bereft and confused, she sat in a daze. What was the matter
with her? How could so little a creature be responsible for so
great a sense of loss? The child was not even hers. She had never
wished for children—had she? Not if it meant she must marry, put
herself into the self-same position in which Mama had suffered
so.

But Unice seemed happy, a small voice whispered
at the back of her mind. She could almost imagine the scene
upstairs. Unice lying with the babe in her arms, and Osmond sitting
at her side, looking down upon his wife with the eyes of love. She
was his
life.
That was what he had
said.

Abruptly the vision changed. Verena herself was lying
there, the baby hers. And the man who sat beside them wore the face
she had sworn she would not remember. Verena found herself
shaking.