Philippa Carr - The Adulteress

This was a flimsy straw. It was all I had. I clung to it. I picked up a pen and started to write, and as I did so … it all came back … the first meeting on the haunted patch, the headlong rush to passion.

“There was a child,” I wrote. “A daughter … a delightful girl. She is in some danger now. … If you would invite her to your chateau, I would perhaps get her to come to see you. I am sure she would wish to see her father. …”

I sealed the letter.

Old Jethro’s grandson was a good boy, an adventurous boy. I could trust him, I was sure.

I sent for him and told him that I wanted him to leave as soon as he could for France. It was a secret mission so he was not to tell anyone where he was going.

He was to hand this letter to a certain Gerard d’Aubigné and to no one else. If he could not find him or learned that he was out of France or dead, he was to come straight back to me with the letter.

Jethro’s grandson’s eyes sparkled at the prospect of carrying out the mission. As I said, he was a boy who dreamed of great adventures.

He was here in the house. Dickon the destroyer.

I hated him, because I could see that he held our destinies in his hands. Whichever way I turned I knew that we could not stand out against him.

I could for myself. I would defy him. But what of Charles? Suppose they discovered that Jean-Louis had died from an excess of the drug? Charles had said he had died of heart failure. He would be ruined. Old scandals would be revived. It would be remembered that he had prescribed that which killed his wife and child.

As for myself … I would stand exposed, adulteress and perhaps murderess. I would face all that to save Lottie … but should I save her? I could not do this to Charles.

I had to see him.

I rode into town and was relieved to find him there.

He listened in shocked silence to what I had to tell him.

“That fiend knows everything,” he said.

“He admits to having his spies. Someone must have seen us together … and told him. Evalina! You remember that day in the woods. It might even have been Hetty. She was under his spell in a way, I believe. … One can never be sure with Dickon. He has a sort of evil power. Lottie’s life will be ruined if she marries him. All he wants is Eversleigh. She would never understand his ways. He would break her heart. Charles, what can we do?”

He said: “We can stand up and face everything.”

“They will say we killed Jean-Louis. We shall never be able to explain. Your career will be at an end. You will never be allowed to practice again.”

“It would be the end … for both of us, Zipporah,” he said. “Murder … yes, they would say it was murder.”

“I could have stopped him,” I said. “I will take the blame. It is mine. I should have stopped him.”

“You knew how he suffered.”

“But I let him do that. I knew what he was doing … and I let him.”

“Because you knew it was his wish.”

“Oh, Charles, what are we to do?”

“I don’t know. We have to think. We must not act rashly.”

“I have done something, Charles. I have written to Lottie’s father. I have asked him to invite her there to see him. When I hear from him I shall send her to him. That will take her away … for a while. New impressions … I was thinking …”

“It might help. Who can say? In the meantime …”

“Yes,” I said, “in the meantime …”

“We can only wait.”

He kissed me tenderly.

“Perhaps it will come right in the end. Do you think it will, Zipporah?”

“Yes,” I said, “if we let it … perhaps it will. We shall have to forget so much.”

I saw his tortured face, then he said: “I don’t think I ever could be at peace remembering. You see, Dorinda so much wanted to live. Jean-Louis wanted to die.”

Then he held me against him. We clung together. We were both afraid to look too far ahead.

I rode slowly back to the house. It was deserted. There seemed to be an unnatural quiet everywhere. I went to my room and as I glanced out of the window I saw that there was a strange glow in the sky.

I ran toward it.

Fire. In the distance, I saw the billowing smoke and the flames shooting up.

I wondered where it could be.

I went downstairs. I saw one of the older women servants in the hall.

I said: “There’s a fire somewhere.”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s the hospital. They’m all gone over to lend a hand.”

I ran out into the stables.

Within a short while I was riding hard for the hospital.

I COULD NOT BELIEVE that this dreadful thing had happened. It had come so suddenly, so unexpectedly, shattering our lives.

Charles had died a hero’s death. He had died rescuing women and children from his hospital. He had saved several lives and that would be the greatest compensation to him. I could only hope that he was happy now.

The Forsters took me back to Enderby. We mourned together. Everything forgotten but our loss. I think they had known how it was with Charles and me and they were pleased because I had brought some happiness into his life.

The mothers and children who had been rescued that night were taken to another hospital some miles away, for Charles’s building was a complete wreck.

Life was ironical, for the hero of the hour was Dickon. He had mustered a fire-fighting force and had several times plunged into the inferno and rescued women and children. His heroic deeds were talked of everywhere.

I was unable to think of anything during the days that followed except that I had lost Charles. There would never be that life together which we had planned. Perhaps it would never have been idyllic because there would have been too many memories to overcome.

I went back to Eversleigh and thought: What shall I do now?

I had lost my lover but my problem remained. I must stand and face it alone.

I need not worry about Charles now. Nothing could harm him. But Dickon was still in a position to blackmail me, to have me accused of murder.

I felt numb … sometimes not caring what he did. … Only wishing to save Lottie.

But how could I save Lottie? If I stood convicted as a murderess would that make her turn even more to Dickon?

There was another tragedy. We discovered on the morning after the fire that Miss Carter was missing. Several people had seen her in the hospital and no one had seen her afterward; it could only be assumed that she must have been one of the victims. Lottie was very upset. She had been fond of Miss Carter for all that she had poked gentle fun at her.

Life had to go on. I was alone now.

I thought: And Dickon is here … in this house. And what will happen when he comes face to face with James Fenton, as he decidedly must?

Will James want to leave?

Trivial problems, perhaps, compared with the great one which stared me in the face.

Lottie’s future … with Dickon. I could not bear to think of that.

He sought me out, as he said, for a little chat. … He was as suave and nonchalant as ever.

“A great tragedy this fire. All the doctor’s good work gone up in smoke.”

“His career, which you were planning to ruin … over.”

“I was only planning to ruin it if you would not be sensible. I did give you the chance, didn’t I?”

“Oh, Dickon … life is so tragic … can’t you just try to let us be at peace for a while.”

“My dearest cousin, it is what I wish more than anything. We will all be happy here at Eversleigh.”

“Do you want it as much as all that, Dickon?”

“I want it completely and absolutely. I always made up my mind it would be mine. And it should be, Zipporah. I’m one of the family. I am the man of the family. It was crazy of Uncle Carl to leave it to you when I was there. I know my father was a damned Jacobite … but so was your grandfather … the most damned and mighty of them all. It’s madness. It belongs to me and I intend to have it.”