The Worldly Widow (57 page)

What then? He
'
d expected better of her. Though she
'
d said very little in the aftermath of Temple
'
s death, it had seemed to him that she
'
d been excessively severe in her judgment on Dalmar. That rankled, for it placed her firmly in the camp of "public opinion,
"
and public opinion had never been kind to David Falconer.

Perhaps he judged her too harshly. He was in no position to know all the circumstances surrounding the rift between Annabelle and his brother. He didn
'
t
wish to know. He only wished…
he didn
'
t know what he wished.

He expelled a sigh on a long breath. "Forgive me. I don
'
t know wh
y I should give you the sharp edge of my tongue. That
'
s not why I came out of my way to see you.
"

"Why did you come?
"
she asked.

He stretched out his long legs and absently flexed the stiff muscles of one knee. It was a moot question, and he took his time before responding.

He tilted his head and smiled up at her. "I don
'
t believe I
'
ve ever told you how I got this gammy leg, have I?
"

"No,
"
she said, more than a little relieved at this innocuous turn in the conversation. "I
'
ve often wondered. But you know, John, most of the time I
'
m scarcely aware that you have a slight limp. It doesn
'
t seem to incommode you excessively, does it?
"

"No. Only at balls or when I
'
m fatigued. My leg was broken when I was a boy, you see, and the bones did not knit properly.
"

"Oh, I
'
m sorry.
"

"I was lucky not to lose my life.
"

"It must have been a terrible accident,
"
she said consolingly.

"Actually, it wasn
'
t exactly an accident. It was my father
'
s doing. If David hadn
'
t been there, I think he would have killed me.
"

Haltingly at first, and then with growing confidence, he began to relate the events which led ultimately to his father
'
s demise and to his brother
'
s ostracism by polite society. As his voice quietly droned on, it seemed to Annabelle as if
Rosedale
'
s safe and sunny morning room gradually receded and she was transported to a different place and time. Though Falconer
'
s words were dispassionate, almost conversational, the scene
which unfolded in her mind was vibrant with color, quickening a sensitivity to every emotion, every nuance of thought of the characters she saw like moving pictures inside her head.

She had never doubted that Dalmar
'
s father was a bestial sort of a man, controlling his dependents with the unfailing strength of his right arm. It was not such an uncommon story. But never in a hundred years could she have imagined t
h
e frightful reality which Falconer
'
s words evoked.

No one had ever thought that Robert Falconer would turn on his younger son. For some inexplicable reason, it was the elder boy, David, who incited him to his worst fits of passion. The mother, a delicate creature, cowed by years of verbal abuse and beating, very rarely interfered. And the family was too ashamed to take anyone into its confidence, though servants
'
gossip had long since spread tales.

Dalmar had some respite when his uncle, the Earl, took a hand in things. He sent the boy away to school and in the holidays had him stay at Gilcomston, his estate in Hampshire. It was only when the father was known to be away from home that Dalmar ever chanced a visit to see his mother and a younger brother who now bore some of the brunt of his father
'
s ungovernable temper.

It was inevitable that Dalmar should be surprised by his father on one of these clandestine visits. There was a ferocious quarrel. But Dalmar, at seventeen a tall and manly youth, was in no mood to be cowed by a father he despised and no longer feared. As a boy he had known helpless fury as a victim terrorized by a bully of a father. That experience had given him the spur to equip himself so that in any field of combat he could acquit himself well.

Only his mother
'
s anguished pleas had persuaded him to back down and remove himself before Robert Falconer
'
s rage turned against the other members of the family. Within minutes of Dalmar
'
s leaving the house, however, Robert Falconer had vented his spleen on his wife. John, distraught, and meaning only to protect his mother, had gone at his father with fists flying. A backhanded blow to the side of the head had sent the boy staggering to the top of the long staircase. Another
blow had sent him toppling over. He
'
d grabbed for the balustrade and missed it by inches.

It was his mother
'
s screams which had brought Dalmar racing back to the house. Far from being brought to his senses by this wanton act of violence, Robert Falconer seemed to be in the throes of a terrible dementia. In spite of the appeals of servants who came running on the scene, he went for the boy as he writhed and moaned at the foot of the great oak staircase. But Dalmar had entered the house. He saw at once what was afoot, and went for his father.

It was the first time Dalmar had pitted his strength against his father, and the very first time that Robert Falconer had ever backed away from a fight. Though raging like a madman, he
'
d left the hall abruptly, to the great relief of every one present. Dalmar had been on his knees, tending to his brother
'
s injuries, when Falconer had return
ed with a rapier in his hand. Th
ere was never a doubt in anyone
'
s mind that Falconer meant to exact a terrible revenge for his son
'
s rash interference.

With only a chair to protect him, Dalmar fended off the wild blows and thrusts which were aimed at him. From somewhere a servant found a foil and threw it to the young man. When he discarded the chair and faced his father, a terrible silence descended on the great hall. It was as if everyone knew that in this fight there would be no quarter asked or given. A final reckoning was to be made, one way or another.

"And
…
and Dalmar ran his father through?
"
asked Annabelle when Falconer came to the end of his recitation.

"Thankfully, yes,
"
said Falconer with an indifference which shocked Annabelle
'
s ears. "Else David would be in his grave and I might not be here to tell the tale. The real story, of course, was suppressed. It was easy to bribe the servants. My father was the most ill-natured of masters. However, gossip was rife. And there was no way to suppress the stories that got about. My uncle, the Earl, deemed it expedient for David to go abroad. And so he went to India.
"

"And your mother?
"

"Oh, she turned on David. There was a breach there that was never patched up. It was to be expected, I suppose. In spite of everything, you see, she still loved my father.
"

"Oh.
"

"Yes, 'oh!
'
There
'
s no accounting for it, except perhaps to say that after one of those terrible bouts, my father was always consumed with bitter self-recrimination and reproach. Until the next time, of course.
"

"Why
…
why are you telling me all this?
"

He passed a hand wearily over his eyes. "God, I don
'
t know! I
'
ve never before revealed the circumstances of that night to anyone. I suppose I had it in mind to exonerate David
'
s character. Damn it all, Annabelle,
"
he burst out, "he has some justification for his avers
ion to men who terrorize women—
yes, and for a mistrust of their promises to reform!
"

"You don
'
t have to justify Dalmar
'
s character to me!
"
she softly remonstrated.

"I don
'
t?
"

"I
'
m sure I don
'
t know why you should think so.
"

"But—it
'
s what David thinks!
"

She cocked her head and gave him the strangest look.

"Well, what else should he think when you have acquitted yourself very much in the manner of our mother?
"
Rather bitterly, he added, "I
'
m sure there
'
s no understanding the logic of women!
"

"Your mother?
"
she said incredulously.

"I
'
m not saying that you are like h
er in character. If anything, you are her antithesis. Well, why do you think David and I are drawn to women like you? I
'
ll tell you why. It
'
s because you would never allow us to indulge our vicious Falconer tempers with impunity.
"

"You will never convince me that you have a temper, John!
"
said Annabelle, smiling.

"Don
'
t say that! That would mean I take after my mother— perish the thought!
"
His face became the picture of consternation. "I beg your pardon. I didn
'
t mean that the way it came out. I don
'
t wish you to think I fault my mother for what she was. All I meant—
"

"I know,
"
said Annabelle, in a not unkindly tone. "You don
'
t wish to be thought a poor, gormless creature who is henpecked by managing females such as myself.
"

"Something like that. Good God, no!
"
He laughed.
"Annabelle, you
'
re putting words in my mouth!
"

He could never decide afterward whether or not Annabelle had taken charge of the conversation by interjecting that piece of frivolity. At all events, their conversation drifted into less personal channels, and Dalmar
'
s name was not mentioned again until Falconer ruthlessly brought it up moments before he took his leave of her.

She had walked him to the front door and out to the stables and had kept up an incessant flow of chitchat which he found almost impossible to dam.

Finally, at the end of his tether, annoyingly aware that he had been humbugging himself and that he did, indeed, wish to effect a reconciliation between Annabelle and his brother, he threw caution to the winds and rudely cut in, "If you decide that you want him, you
'
re going to have a fight on your hands.
"

She didn
'
t pretend to misunderstand him. "A fight? With whom?
"
She was thinking of Lady Diana, or perhaps some other lady who had come lately upon the scene.

Falconer accepted the reins of his steed from a stableboy and mounted into the saddle. Correctly interpreting the train of her thought, he said, "It
'
s not another lady, if that
'
s what you
'
re thinking.
"
Disregarding a natural reluctance to broach an indelicate and insensitive subject in hopes of drawing off any resentment she might still be harboring against the Earl, he said doggedly, "And as for his dallying in the petticoat line, that does not signify.
"

"Oh, doesn
'
t it?
"
she answered dryly.

"You have my word on it that since he
'
s gone down to Gilcomston, he has adopted the mode of a monk.
"

"How very…
salutary,
"
she commiserated.

His brows knit together as he tried to decipher what the ironic tone might or might not signify.

"Annabelle, there is a greater obstacle by far,
"
he persisted.