John was laughing, though he too had risen to hug his sister. "Louise is not usually very talkative," he told Elizabeth, "but sometimes she starts and does not know when to stop. Come and sit down, love, and tell us to what happy chance we owe this visit."
Elizabeth sank down into the chair he pulled out from the table for her. "Oh, it is so good to be home," she said. "I have been traveling on the stage for two full days. And yes, Louise, I am home to stay, for a while anyway, though I hope to lure John away for a few days."
"Where?" asked Louise.
"Oh, I am so tired," Elizabeth replied. "Please may I explain everything tomorrow?"
"Of course you may, love," John replied. "Eat now, if you can, then we can show off to you our son, who has two new teeth since last you saw him, and you can go to bed. We will talk in the morning."
---
"No!" she was saying. "I won't believe it. No, please, no."
"I am sorry, Lizzie," her father said. "I am truly sorry. But he has made himself quite plain. He does not want to see you."
"No!" she protested. "It can't be true. He loves me. Oh, he loves me."
"He is a scoundrel, Lizzie," he replied. He sounded uncomfortable in his role as comforter. "You will have to learn to forget him."
"No! No, there is some misunderstanding, Papa. I can't believe it. I must see him. I must go to him. Please."
"He will not see you," he said again. "He wishes to end the marriage. The likes of us are not good enough for his lordship."
"No," she moaned. "I must talk to him. I must see his letter. Let me see his letter, Papa. There is some misunderstanding."
"I will not allow that," he said, his voice gruff with sympathy. "It would break your heart to read the words in his own handwriting, Lizzie."
"Oh, let me see it, Papa," she begged, "let me see him. Make him come to see me. He loves me. I know he loves me."
"He does not want you anymore, girl," he said.
"No. Oh, no, no. Please, no," she wailed.
John was kneeling in front of her, covering her hands with his, drawing her head down to his shoulder, murmuring soothing words.
"Don't, love," he was saying. "Don't torture yourself like this. Elizabeth, Elizabeth. Elizabeth!"
She woke up with a start to find John sitting on the side of her bed, gently shaking her by the shoulders. Louise was standing behind him, holding a candle in a holder. Both looked deeply concerned. She stared blankly up at them.
"The old nightmare, love?" John asked gently.
She nodded numbly. "But I was right, John," she whispered. "I was right. He did not abandon me. He did love me."
John smoothed back from her face a strand of hair that lay across one eye. His hand was as gentle as a woman's, "Louise will sit and talk to you," he said, "while I go and warm some milk for you. You are at home now, love, and we intend to smother you with so much love that there will be no room for nightmares or bad memories either."
He left the room before she could reply, and Louise took his place at the side of the bed. She talked cheerfully and without pause until he returned with the promised milk. She told Elizabeth all about her pregnancy and her growing contentment as she felt the child move inside her, about her hope that this child would be a girl, though it really did not matter as they intended to have several more babies, "and surely one of them must be a girl, do you not think, Elizabeth? And, of course, girls have to be properly married when they grow up, and they need decent dowries, so maybe it will be just as well if they are mostly boys. Do you think, love?"
Elizabeth was smiling by the time John came back. The smile covered a great surge of gratitude that she felt for these two people, who were so wrapped up in their own love for each other and for their son and unborn child and yet could open their lives to include her too. She drank her milk like an obedient child and allowed Louise to plump her pillows and tuck in the blankets before kissing her on the cheek. John too kissed her before following his wife from the room.
"You are safe now, love," he said. "I shall look after you now as you looked after me when I was a boy. Go back to sleep. There will be no more dreams."
Elizabeth smiled and felt herself obediently drifting off. In just such a tone of voice John must talk to Jeremy. But it felt so good, so good to let someone else carry her burdens for just a little while.
Chapter 15
It was after luncheon the next day when Elizabeth finally managed to have a private word with John. She got up late in the morning, having slept surprisingly soundly after her nightmare. She could not remember when she had slept so late before, in fact. Then she sat chatting with Louise over a late breakfast. She was persuaded to go up to the nursery to visit Jeremy, and finally the three of them ended up outside in the morning sunshine, walking across the lawn and through the trees to the lake. Elizabeth had a sharp stab of memory of the last time she had come this way, with John and Robert in addition to the present group. By the time they returned to the house, it was time for luncheon.
Louise was going out afterward to visit a friend. "Do come, Elizabeth," she urged. "You will like Sophia. She has moved here since you left, I believe."
"No," Elizabeth replied. "Some other time, perhaps, but today I must talk to John if he can spare the time."
"I am not that busy that I cannot give a moment to my own sister," he said with a smile. "Besides, I am curious to know what has brought you back home so soon, love."
They went to his office, where they could talk without interruption. John ordered their tea sent there.
"Now, love, what has happened?" he asked, accepting a cup from her and seating himself in the chair behind his desk. "I know you well enough to be sure that something extraordinary has sent you from your employment so soon after you returned with such determination."
"I had a visit from Robert less than a week ago," she said.
His jaw tightened. "Will he not leave you alone?"
"I must confess that he had some reason to come," she added breathlessly. "His friend, Mr. Mainwaring of Ferndale, made me an offer, you see, which I accepted, and he went to see if Robert would divorce me."
Elizabeth gave a brief account of William Mainwaring's courtship and of Hetherington's refusal to set her free.
"Poor love," John said. "Are you quite devastated?"
"No," she assured him. "I am afraid that William might be, for I believe that he truly loved me. But I do not love him, John, and I know now that I did him an injustice by agreeing to marry him. I do not know, but I believe I would not have been able to go through with a wedding even if Robert had not thrown a rub in our way."
"But you still felt obliged to leave the vicinity of Ferndale?"
"Yes," she replied. "But that was not the only reason. Robert said more, John. We finally spoke of what happened six years ago."
"Yes?" John's voice was tense.
Elizabeth told him all that Hetherington had accused her of and all that he had said of his uncle's part in the dealings.
"You see," she concluded, "if Robert's uncle told him these things, he must have been guilty. He deliberately told terrible lies to separate us. I want you to come to London with me, John, to find him. I must get him to admit to what he did. Will you?"
John had turned very white. He was gripping the edge of the desk with both hands. "Are you sure," he said, "are you quite sure, Elizabeth, that Hetherington did not delegate his uncle to act for him? Are you sure he is not guilty?"
"Oh, yes," she said, wide-eyed. "Yes, I am very sure, John. I could tell from his manner that he was as badly hurt by our separation as I was. Besides, there were no ten thousand pounds."