Secret for a Nightingale (8 page)

But I wondered. It was too indelicate a matter to speak of. Nor did I broach it with Aubrey. It was one of those situations which must be sorted out naturally.

Aubrey and I rode round the estate. I was a little fearful that I might prove inadequate on horseback; but he was most assiduous in his care for me. He constantly restrained himself and when we galloped he kept his eyes on me so that I felt I was being looked after. But when I rode with him in his carriage, he was very reckless so eager was he to show me his skill; and he certainly had that The horses responded to his lightest touch. I was falling more and more in love.

I loved him the more for his vanity and his obsessive love of the no use I felt now, as I had not before, that he needed me to care for him; and that was very gratifying.

There were one or two dinner-parties very small affairs because, as Aubrey said, there could be little entertaining at the Minster now that Stephen was so ill just a few neighbours to meet me and some close friends of the family. I did meet Amelia’s parents, Sir Henry and Lady Carberry, who were travelling back to their home in London after staying with friends in the country. They had just called for luncheon. I found them charming and they had a young woman with them who was introduced as the Honourable Henrietta Marlington. She was the daughter of some very old friends of theirs who had been staying with the people they had visited and was being taken to London to stay with them for a ^hort while. I was struck with her; she was extraordinarily attractive and she owed this to her vitality even more than to her good looks, which were considerable. She talked a great deal about the season and amused us with her descriptions of being presented to the Queen at the Royal Drawing Room and the solemnity of waiting in the queue with her train over her left arm until the magic moment when she entered, her train spread out in glory behind her. The Queen had given her a piercing look, she said, and extended her hand to be kissed, as though she were weighing her up and finding her wanting.

“She is very perceptive, they say,” she added.

Amelia’s parents were obviously very fond of Henrietta and I could understand that. I was sorry their visit was so short.

I enjoyed my sessions alone with Amelia, which were quite frequent because Aubrey had so much to learn about the estate, having been abroad for so long, and he often spent the greater part of the morning with the estate manager.

One day Amelia talked to me more intimately than ever before, She said: “I don’t know how I shall live without Stephen.”

“Perhaps,” I said rather falsely, for I knew this could not be, ‘he will recover. “

“No,” she replied sadly. It is impossible. Right up to a month ago I went on hoping that he might get well. There were times when he was almost his old self. But really he was gradually getting worse. He has always talked to me a good deal about the estate. It is only recently that he realized it would pass to Aubrey, who has never till now shown much interest in it. “

“He certainly has a great deal now.”

“Yes, he’s changed. I suppose it is because he knows it can’t be long before it is his. We ; .. Stephen and I … always thought that there could be children.”

We were silent for a few moments and then she burst out:

“Oh, Susanna, I can’t tell you how much I have longed for children.

Stephen did too. It was the one thing in which I failed him. “

“You can’t blame yourself for fate.”

“I would have done anything. I had three miscarriages.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“The first … I think was my own fault. In four months I should have had my child. I went riding and lost it. I was so fond of riding. We all were … Stephen, Aubrey and myself. We rode everywhere. It was folly. That was the first. And sometimes when that sort of thing starts it goes on.”

“How very sad.”

“I was so careful the next time. But after two months I had lost the child. I went to three the next time.”

“That must have been terrible.”

“A great disappointment to us both and I think particularly to me. I felt so strongly that I had failed Stephen. He desperately wanted a child … a boy whom he could train to look after things here.”

“I do understand.”

“Oh well… that’s life, I suppose.”

“I suppose so.”

“Forgive my outburst. But you seem so sympathetic. I am sure you will be very good for Aubrey. He needs someone like you.”

“Oh, I think he is very well able to stand on his own feet.”

She did not answer. She just looked infinitely sad thinking of those lost children, I supposed.

One day I was alone with Stephen. Aubrey had gone to one of the farms on the estate. I was in my room when Amelia came to me and said that Stephen would-like to see me.

I went down to the sickroom. He was seated in a chair wrapped up in blankets. I thought he looked even more ill than he did in bed.

I sat beside him and after we had talked a little Amelia left us alone for a short while.

Stephen said to me: “I am glad that you are marrying Aubrey.”

“I am so pleased you feel like that. Many families disapprove of newcomers to the circle. I had no idea when I met Aubrey that he lived in a place like this.”

He nodded.

“It’s a responsibility. He will be the one to carry on. It is like a chain that has been forged over the centuries. One doesn’t like to think of its being broken. If I’ had had a son …”

He shook his head sadly and I thought of what Amelia had told me.

“But now … I’m glad you’re here. He needs someone … steady .. someone who will look after him and prevent his …” He paused. I believe he was on the point of saying something important, but he changed his mind. He patted my hand, and went on: “I am sure since I have met you … that you are the one for him.”

“Thank you.”

“You will be strong. Strength is what he needs. You see …”

I looked at him steadily, but he was silent.

I prompted him.

“Yes … you were saying …”

The sunken eyes seemed to probe my mind. He was trying to tell me something. Or perhaps trying to make up his mind whether to or not. A great curiosity came to me. I was sure

it was something I should know. And it concerned Aubrey.

Then he lay back in his chair and closed his eyes. Amelia came in.

We had tea together.

I wondered what it was he had been going to tell me.

It was late afternoon. There were dark clouds overhead and I thought there would be a storm before the day was out. I was in the long gallery looking at the portraits. I could see how like some of his ancestors Aubrey was. I studied the faces, some pensive, some smiling, some merry, some serious; and they all seemed to be looking out of their canvases assessing me!

It was quite an eerie feeling, standing there as it grew visibly darker. There were moments in this house when I fancied I was being watched, that unseen figures from the past were close to me interested in this girl who had the temerity to attempt to intrude into the family circle.

There was one portrait which interested me particularly, perhaps because the face of the man reminded me of Aubrey’s. His eyes followed me wherever I was, and the expression seemed to change as I watched. I fancied I could see the lips curl up in amusement because the subject of the picture knew that he both fascinated and repelled me. The white curls of his wig hung down almost to his shoulders and were crowned by a wide-brimmed hat which had just a touch of the military about it.

His coat was mulberry-coloured velvet caught in at the waist; beneath it, his waistcoat was elaborately embroidered and almost as long as the coat. It was closely fitted to the waist and then flared out. The buttons were like jewels. His knee breeches were caught just below the knees with ornamental buckles. His legs were well shaped and the buckles on his shoes matched those at his knees. He was a very elegant gentleman.

“Hello!”

I started; and such was my mood that for a moment I thought it was the dandy in the picture who had spoken. I spun round. Aubrey must have

come in very quietly and so absorbed was I that I had not heard him. He slipped his arm through mine.

“I think you are rather fascinated by Harry St. Clare,” he said.

“You wouldn’t be the first one, I am sure.”

“So he is Harry St. Clare, is he? He must be quite a distant relative.

That must have been painted about a hundred years ago. “

“That’s true. The hat gives it away. It’s Dettingen.. named after the battle. You ought to know the date. Somewhere in the I740S, I believe.”

“Yes.”

“They were all the rage, those hats, after the battle. And you can imagine that Harry would always be in the height of fashion.”

“Do you know the history of all your ancestors?”

“Only those who distinguished themselves like Harry.”

“How did he distinguish himself? At Dettingen?”

“Not on your life! He was too clever for that. Harry was a Rake. Harry was the Devil Incarnate. He was involved in some fine old scandals and incurred the wrath of his father, grandfather and in fact the whole family.”

“What did he do?”

“Nothing that was good. If there was mischief, Harry was in it. He nearly lost the family fortunes. He died young. They said the Devil claimed Harry. I expect he is now having a riotous time in Hell. It would be just what he would revel in.”

“I think you rather like him.”

“Well, aren’t villains always more exciting than saints? Not that we’ve had a great many of the latter in the family. Harry was a member of one of the Hell-Fire Clubs, which were a fashion in those days among the lazy good-for-nothing young men who had the inclination for dissipation and a certain amount of money which allowed them to indulge in it.”

“What did he do?”

“Evil. Dabbled in the black arts. Worshipped the Devil. Indulged in depravity generally. He was a member of Sir Francis Dashwood’s club at Medmenham near West Wycombe. Dashwood built a place in the form of a monastery

and there the members worshipped the Devil. Black Mass . depravity orgies. You could never imagine what practices they indulged in. ” Aubrey’s eyes shone with excitement.

“Harry wasn’t content with that. The story is that he formed his own club and went one better than Dashwood.”

“A very clever artist painted the portrait,” I said.

“When you look at it, it seems to come alive.”

“That’s Harry’s character coming across to you. You can see, can’t you, that he is no ordinary man. Now take a look at Joseph St. Clare over here with his daughter Charity. They lived a hundred years before Harry. They are the virtuous St. Clares. But don’t you think Harry is more interesting?”

“I think his is a finer portrait.”

“Don’t deceive yourself. That’s Harry looking out at you. He’s wondering how he can tempt you to folly. He’d like to make you a member of his Hell-Fire Club.”

“How dark it is. It seems to have got worse suddenly.”

He lighted one of the lamps which stood on a console table nearby. He held up the lamp. Harry St. Clare looked malevolent in lamp light.

Aubrey laughed and as I turned and looked at him I thought that with that gleam in his eyes, he bore a strong resemblance to his ancestor.

I shivered and just then I heard the faint rumble of thunder in the distance. He put his arm round me and for a few moments we looked at the picture.

Then he put the lamp down on the table and, turning to me, took me in his arms and kissed me in a passionate and demanding manner. He had never held me quite in the same way before.

I felt faintly uneasy. I looked over my shoulder. It was as though Harry St. Clare were laughing at me.

After dinner that evening Amelia delivered her astounding news.

We had eaten in the winter parlour which we did as there were only

three of us. I had gathered that the main dining-room was used only when there were several guests as it was too big for so few.

There was a little ante-room leading from the winter parlour, like a comfortable sitting-room, and here we retired to have coffee.

Amelia had been abstracted during the meal and I thought she seemed nervous.

Then, as though bracing herself she said: “I have something to tell you. I didn’t want to mention it until I was absolutely sure. I am going to have a child.”

The silence was intense. I did not look at Aubrey but I was aware of him.

Amelia stumbled on: “Of course … it will make a difference. Stephen is so pleased. I think it has done him a lot of good.”

I cried: “Congratulations. You must be overjoyed. It is what you always wanted.”

She turned to me almost gratefully.

“I couldn’t believe it at first. I thought I was imagining it. I didn’t want to talk of it until I could be absolutely sure. But now the doctor has confirmed it.”

I got up and, going to her, embraced her. I was happy for her. She had moved me so deeply when she had told me of her longing for children and her disappointments. At the same time I guessed how Aubrey must be feeling. He seemed to have developed an obsession about the Minster since he had believed it was to be his. I wondered what was going on in his mind. For a few moments he appeared to be too stunned for speech.

I glanced at him expectantly and, as though with a great effort, he spoke.

“Well, I must add my congratulations to those of Susanna. When .?”

“It is only two months yet … I wanted to make absolutely sure before I mentioned it. There’s quite a long time to go, of course. I intend to take the greatest care this time. It’s like a miracle. After all my disappointments … and Stephen as he is … It will give me something to live for. I can’t tell you how I am feeling … but, of course, this will make changes for you …”

“Yes, indeed,” said Aubrey wryly.

“I do understand,” said Amelia.

“I’m sorry … in a way … and yet I find it hard to be because more than anything that is possible … I want this …”

I could see that Aubrey was grappling with his feelings. I said: “We should drink to a happy outcome.”