Coleen Kwan - Darke London

“Yes, it was all a hoax. I’m sorry, Pip, for pulling a deception like that, but after my near death at the hands of your father’s henchman, I didn’t know whom to trust. I didn’t know if you were part of the plot. After all, you did disappear from our lodgings without a word. I thought you’d abandoned me and run back here to your father.”

“Oh God, Nellie, I’m so sorry!” he cried hoarsely. “I did come back here, but it was to beg him for a small loan. We were in such dire straits, and the thought of you working revolted me, so I came here. I petitioned my father, but he insisted I go out with him. He took me to several clubs and then the theatre. We had dinner, and he urged me to drink more than I am accustomed to. I went along, thinking to humour him, but then I must have passed out, because I woke up in my old bed here a day later, and when I rushed back to our lodgings, you’d gone and the landlady had sold off all our belongings.” He cast her an imploring look. “Oh, Nellie, you do believe me, don’t you?”

“I had my doubts, but not anymore, not after that night at Madame Olga’s.”

“That night…” He chewed at his lower lip, his expression agitated. “I didn’t mean to shoot my father. I only meant to—to shake him up a little. But he grabbed the gun, and we grappled together, and in the struggle the gun went off. And then that great brute came charging at me. He took me by surprise and the pistol was in my hand. I fired instinctively. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

“You killed the fiend who did this to me.” She gestured at her face. “And he murdered an innocent woman to make it look as if I had died. No one will mourn his passing.”

Pip nodded, eager for vindication. “Precisely. I acted in self-defence. Well, I never twigged you were Madame Dariya. You were very convincing.”

“Pip, you have to realise that Madame Olga is no spiritual medium. She merely told you what you wanted to hear because you paid her. Everything that happened in that apartment was mere trickery.”

“But when you spoke to me in my mother’s voice, surely that was no trickery.”

Nellie pretended an interest in an exquisite porcelain vase nearby. Even now she couldn’t explain to herself the strange trance that had gripped her. She thought spiritualism was nonsense, and she didn’t believe it possible to communicate with the dead, but that night something bizarre had happened to her for which there was no logical explanation.

“I—I don’t know what came over me, Pip,” she confessed. “I’m sorry, but I cannot explain it.”

“But you spoke the truth. I’m sure of it! When I challenged my father, I knew it was the truth from the fear in his eyes. I’ve never seen my father frightened before, but at that moment he was in terror because the truth had come out. He is responsible for my mother’s death.” His breath hitched in a sob.

“But, Pip, even if the doctor was called, your mother could have died anyway,” she said gently.

“Perhaps, but at least she wouldn’t have died alone and in fear.” He dashed the heel of his hand against his moist cheeks. “Oh, Nellie, you must think me such a fool, visiting these spiritual mediums in a vain attempt to soothe my conscience.”

“I don’t blame you for seeking some comfort.” She sighed, but aimed a glare at him. “However, I do blame you for marrying me under false pretences. You knew very well I’d never have married you if you were engaged to another woman. I know about Miss Montague.”

Blushing furiously, he stared down at his shoes before giving her a meek sidelong look. “I don’t know if I was properly ‘engaged’ to Alice. My father and hers had an understanding between them. It wasn’t of my choosing.”

“Oh mercies!” She threw up her hands. “Surely you could not be engaged against your will?”

“You’ve seen how ruthless my father can be. And Alice can be just as dogged.” Pip pouted a little. “She’s a termagant. And she has the most awful freckles. Between her and Father, I felt like a nut being squeezed by two pincers, and so I…so I…”

“So you fled London and ended up in my father’s asylum,” Nellie said with a sigh. It all made sense now. “You used me as an escape from your troubles. Well, I cannot blame you too much, for I used you in equal fashion, but even so you should have told me about your fiancée, Pip.”

“But then you would never have eloped with me. I meant to tell you when we got to London, but our circumstances were too dire then. Plus, you were so insistent we marry as soon as possible, and of course, you were right to be concerned for your reputation. I would hate to be called a bounder for convincing you to elope with me and then refusing to marry you! That would have been most unchivalrous.”

She exhaled in annoyance at his obtuseness. Pip had his own strange view of the world which would never concur with hers.

He reached out and gingerly took both her hands. “But now everything is different. With my father incapacitated, I have free rein to do as I please. All the Ormond resources are at my command. If—if you wish, we could live here.”

She could only stare at him. “You truly wish to remain married to me?”

“Is there any alternative?”

The resignation in his voice shouted out the truth. Even the faintness of his grasp betrayed his true feelings—he was leery of touching her. And in all honesty, she could muster no passion for him either. In her callowness, she’d dreamed up a fantasy hero and projected that image onto Pip, but he was no hero of hers, not in the past and not in the future. She was different now. She didn’t need unreal fantasies any longer. She’d already met a real hero, and he was everything she could want.

Quietly she disentangled her hands from his. “Yes, Pip, there is an alternative. You must divorce me.”

“Oh…” He drew in a quavering breath, relief lurking in his eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. We would never make each other truly happy.”

“But what of the scandal? You would be labelled an adulterous woman.”

She lifted her shoulders. “I care nothing for scandal, for I’ve no designs on London high society.”

He nodded, looking both mollified and shamefaced. “But what will you do now? You cannot be thinking of returning to your father. I could make you an allowance—”

“No, Pip. That’s very generous of you but quite unnecessary. I have…employment of my own.”

“Ah, very well, then.” He cleared his throat and examined his shoes once more.

“Goodbye, Pip. I will send you the address of a lawyer through which you may contact me, but I won’t visit you again. This is farewell.”

“Oh, really? You won’t stay to tea…?” The relief behind his embarrassment was too obvious to miss.

“I won’t put you out any longer.” She gestured towards the ceiling. “After all, you’ve an injured father to look after.”

“That I do.”

She found herself curious about Sir Thaddeus lying upstairs in his bed, as helpless as a newborn babe. “I suppose he’s been largely unconscious these past few days.”

“No, quite the contrary. He’s been mostly awake.” As Pip accompanied her out of the drawing room, she caught a gleam in his eyes, a hint of an emotion she’d never detected in him before. “I find myself enjoying my little visits to my father’s sick chamber. The doctors advocate I talk to him, you see, so I relate to him everything I can think of. The poor man cannot respond, but he understands every word I say.”

“How can you tell?”

“Oh, he retains some movement in his left eye. It bobs this way and that whenever I chat to him.”

“And what do you talk about?” Nellie asked, her curiosity even more piqued.