Philippa Carr - The love child

ALL THE WAY BACK Carlotta was silent, brooding. When I spoke to her she answered in monosyllables. I felt she was blaming me for ruining her happiness.

Harriet was waiting for us when we reached Eversleigh. Carlotta ran to her and threw herself into her arms. I felt waves of jealousy sweep over me. Carlotta was telling me that she believed Harriet was her friend. Harriet would never have been so cruel to her.

I longed to tell her how much I loved her, how I wanted above everything to save her from this man who had proved his cruelty to me and had brazenly admitted that it was her fortune he wanted. How could I make her see? Only by telling her of that fearful night which had cast its shadow over my life.

No man of honour would have behaved as he did. Had it not been for her money he would have been content with seduction; but he wanted to get his hands on her inheritance and marriage was necessary for that.

My poor, innocent, deluded Carlotta, who thought she knew so much and understood so little.

She avoided me. I was heartbroken. I could neither eat nor sleep.

My mother was growing anxious. “My dear Priscilla,” she said, “you must not take this to heart. The young will indulge in these escapades. Of course he is not the man for her. But she will be over it in a few weeks. That’s how girls are.”

My nightmares returned. I could not get him out of my mind.

“I wish Leigh were here,” said my mother. “He would be able to comfort you. I have never liked these long absences of his. It’s not the way to make a happy marriage.”

“He is making plans to leave the army. We have talked a good deal about taking the Dower House and getting some land.”

“It’s a wonderful idea. I’ve asked your father to write to him and tell him he must leave the army as soon as it can be arranged.”

“He will, I know, as soon as his term comes to an end.”

“And now you must stop fretting about this affair. Your father says the man is something of an adventurer and has been involved in one or two scandals.”

“I am sure he is right. Certainly he is not the man for Carlotta.”

“I understand your feelings. It was so wrong of him to persuade her to elope.”

“She is so headstrong. I am afraid for her.”

“Well, you brought her back. She’ll understand that she will have to wait awhile. Waiting is often so good in this sort of case. When you are young, ardour fades quickly.”

I thought, We must keep them separated. If they don’t meet she will forget him. Benjie is there. It is a great revelation for them to know that they are not brother and sister.

I liked to go out alone. I found it hard to endure light conversation when my mind was full of one thing. I hardly listened when people talked and Harriet complained that I was getting absentminded.

I would ride down to the sea or through the woods, trying all the time to assure myself that she would forget, that it was a momentary infatuation.

A few mornings later I found myself close to Enderby Hall, which had been empty since the death of Robert Frinton. It was Carlotta’s now. It had been shut up since Robert’s funeral and there was talk of selling it.

I had never liked the house. There was an atmosphere of gloom about it. Yet in a way I was drawn to it.

It was foolish to say that it was an unlucky house. Houses could surely not be unlucky; and yet there had been death and tragedy there. And Robert had not lived long to enjoy the place.

Some impulse made me ride up the short drive. I noticed that the bushes were already beginning to be overgrown. I would get Jasper to go over one day and clean up the gardens.

I pulled up and looked at the house, and as I stood there I saw a movement at one of the windows. I saw a hand on the curtain as it moved. There was someone there, looking out.

My first impulse was to turn and gallop away. But I did not. I just stood watching. The curtain had fallen back into place.

Someone was in the house.

I did not believe in ghosts, and somehow since I had been so unhappy I was less careful of myself. A thought occurred to me that it might be some desperate man hiding there, some fugitive from justice.

The wise thing would be to ride back to Eversleigh and bring someone with me to go over the house.

I did not do this. Instead I dismounted, tethered my horse and went towards the house.

I pushed open the door, which was strange, for it should have been locked. I walked into the hall. There was the staircase over which a poor, demented woman had attempted to hang herself. The gloom, the horror of that house seemed to close about me like a fog.

Go away. Go away, urged my good sense.

But as I stood there I heard movement from above … footsteps, a rustle, the quiet opening of a door.

My heartbeats were thundering. I was trembling a little. I did not know what I expected to see. I was just standing inside the hall, prepared to run if need be.

A figure had appeared at the head of the stairs.

It was Beaumont Granville.

“You!” I cried.

“Well met,” he said. “I guessed you would pay me a visit. I saw you from the window.”

“So … it is you then.”

“Yes. I have a habit of turning up in your life, haven’t I?”

“I wish to God you would get out of my life.”

“That wouldn’t be very easy for God to arrange as I am going to marry your daughter.”

“That shall never be. My father made that clear.”

“You did not think I would give up as easily as that, did you?”

“You must go away from here.”

“I will for a while … with Carlotta. I thought we might go to Venice. That would be rather piquant, don’t you think?”

“You remember the scars you received in Venice. You should take care that there are not others.”

“I would have the law on any who attacked me for marrying my wife.”

“She will never be that.”

“You are wrong there, Prim Priscilla. The little girl is on fire for me. You should know I have a special way with women. I am irresistible. You couldn’t resist me, could you? You had better take care. I have a fondness for you because it was such a pleasant night we had together, but I could be angry with you. Now keep out of my affairs. Carlotta and I are going to marry. There is nothing you can do to stop that.”

“What are you doing here … in this house?”

“Staying here for a while until we leave. We shall be going soon and then there will be that belated ceremony.”

“She knows you are here … in this house?”

“Yes, in her house. It will be our house soon.”

“As you hope her fortune will be.”

“It is customary for a man to take charge of his wife’s affairs, you know.”

“Please, please go away. She is young and you are old … old.”

“Experienced,” he corrected. “That is what she likes. She wants no green boys, that one.”

“Have you no shame?”

“No,” he answered, “none.”

“What are you proposing to do?”

“Ha! You come here trying to probe our secrets. I am mad with love for Carlotta.”

“And her fortune.”

“It is part of her charm. I am mad with love for all that but otherwise perfectly sane.”

I felt limp with helplessness. What could I do? One thing I could not do was bear to stand there any longer and bandy words with him while I looked at his mocking face.

I turned and went out to my horse.

I rode back in a kind of daze. I had to do something. What?

Whichever way I looked I saw only one thing. Nothing could save Carlotta but the death of Beaumont Granville. Whatever else happened he would always be there. He would never give up. And he had bewitched her. He would have to die.