Strange days followed for Kitty, warm days with evenings drawing in and autumn showing itself in the changing leaves and morning mists. It was a period of waiting.
Her feeling for George was not easy to define, nor did it occur to her to define it. His embraces could fill her with repulsion and yet excite her; his sudden change from an almost brutal passion to a gentleness which was pathetic because it sat so uneasily upon him, fostered in her a certain affection for him. Her need to be desired and possessed was satisfied, though her need to love was not; but she found it difficult to differentiate between desire and love, and did not understand herself.
As for George, he was delighted with his marriage. He thought her very desirable; shrinking at times, afraid of him -but then, he liked his women to be afraid of him; at other times there was a hint of passion in her that seemed reluctant to show itself but could not remain entirely hidden. It fascinated him; he longed to rouse it; it made him feel that, possessing her, he was still the hunter, and there was great zest in the chase. He played a game of make-believe with himself, pretending she was Bessa Bess who had miraculously remained young for him. He was pleased with life. She was a wonderful toy, and, because he did I not understand entirely how she worked, his passion did not I diminish; it was nurtured on the mystery of her. He was happy. He liked to be soft with her, indulge her, show her how truly gentle he could be when he loved; but there were times when he must show his strength; then he would catch her unexpectedly and crush her and force her and feel her resentful and wait for the sudden rising of passion in her. Sometimes when he was in a complacent mood, he imagined she feigned reluctance to please him; then he let himself believe he was the centre of her life and that her thoughts were occupied in his pleasure.
The days slipped into weeks. Kitty felt a fondness for the house growing in her; it was so big that she could hide herself in it; sometimes, when she heard George calling her, she would hide in one of the attics and feel completely shut away and safe; but one could not remain hidden for long, any more than one could keep a secret for ever.
But she had her mother's gift of living in the present; something might happen, she told herself, so that her secret would never be discovered, and, wishing it, she began to believe it.
It was pleasant to be mistress of such a place as Haredon. The servants took to her; the housekeeper would discuss the running of the house with her in an indulgent way.
"The dear little thing!" said the housekeeper.
"She is not one to poke and pry." And indeed she was not; she could offer interest without interference. Peg and Dolly, whom she had brought with her, gave her an excellent reference in the servants' hall.
"A dearer, sweeter creature never lived!" Dolly declared, and she and Peg showed the gifts Kitty had bestowed upon them, and never thought of whispering a word of those secret meetings with Darrell. There was one, of course, who was not pleased with her presence in the house; that was Jennifer Jay. Kitty heard whisperings of the squire's relations with Jennifer; that was inevitable. She was sorry for Jennifer. Jennifer's trouble was just another of those which beset the stormy lives of women. She tried to be friendly, but the glittering eyes of the woman alarmed her a little, and she had a feeling that Jennifer beat little Margaret for being so ready with kisses for her new mamma.
The time came when she must tell of the baby. It would be better to tell, she thought, than to be discovered. She decided that she must explain everything to her husband.
It was October. He had been hunting all day. and she had stayed in her room rehearsing what she would say to him. She had planned it all, beginning with the meeting in the coach; she had to make him understand how deeply she and Darrell had loved.
"I should have told you before I married you," she would say, for indeed that was what she should have done, 'but I was frightened, George, so terribly frightened...”
She knew just how she would appeal to him. She felt exalted, almost unafraid ... until she heard his voice downstairs. Then she thought of his anger, and how terrible that could be; and she thought of being turned out of his house, and what had happened to the girl who had loved one of his grooms.
He came hastily up the stairs.
"Kitty!" he called in his lusty voice, and she trembled.
As he came in she stood up, her back to the window, so that he might not see her face.
"Ah!" he said. There you are. Why the devil didn't you come down to welcome me home?”
He was laughing, not ill-pleased; his face was flushed with exercise and ale. It had been a good day, she saw.
He strode over to her and took her into his amis; he bent her backwards roughly and kissed her.
"Why, what's the matter?" he said.
"You're white as a ghost.”
She was still trembling, and she could not hide it.
He said: "Why, Kitty?" and the tenderness was in his eyes again, and she felt her resistance weakening.
"George! There is something I must tell you... I do not know what you will say ... I have been meaning to tell you for so long..." His hands were on her shoulders, hurting her; he was always so rough with his great hands. The words came out weakly: "George ... there is going to bea baby!”
Fearfully she looked up at him. Now was the moment. Now. His lips were moving, though no sound came from them. She stared. Was that a glaze of tears in his eyes? It was incredible.
She had expected some crude remark: then she could have compared him with Darrell, have hated him, have said what she had prepared herself to say.
He murmured: "Kitty! It is the grandest news. We are going to have a family, Kitty!”
He threw off his sentimental mood. He was exuberant. He lifted her off her feet and gave her a great smacking kiss on the mouth.
Downstairs in the hall under the portraits of his ancestors he made the servants drink to the health of the child that was coming.
The children called her into the nursery.
"Jennifer is out for the afternoon!" whispered Charles.
"So you must come and tell us a story," added Margaret.
They climbed over her and touched the brooch at her throat. George had given her that only the other day; he delighted in giving her things.
He had changed in the last weeks, since he had known of the coming of the child. He gave her little glimpses into his inner nature, told her of how he had felt about Bess, and how he had suffered when she had left him. It was unlike the squire to talk of weakness in himself, but he was so pleased with his life, so enchanted by the prospect of their both being parents of the same child, that he let her peer now and then behind his defences. He was not a monster, after all; just a man, very human, full of hopes and desires and aspirations.
"You are our new mamma." announced Margaret; and she and Charles laughed because it seemed so amusing to them that they should suddenly be presented with a new mamma.
"You see," explained Charles, 'until now Margaret never had a mamma at all. and I only had one for a very little time.”
"Jennifer says you're not a real mamma.”
"She says you're a stepmamma!”
They watched her from under their eyelashes. Jennifer had said stepmammas hated their stepchildren, beat them and made faces at them in the dark.
They could not talk of these things, but they were there between them and their desire to love Kitty. For minutes at a time they forgot them though. They showed her their picture books and toys. They had opened Jennifer's cupboard, when Jennifer came in. Kitty actually had the love potion in her hand when the door opened.
Jennifer stiffened, and her face went dark red with hatred.