There I was, blaming the house again, blaming anything but my own weakness.
I had sinned and must pay for my sins.
David took my hands and kissed them.
“Oh, Claudine, I hoped and hoped… It is wonderful news. And you’re happy, aren’t you? You want this.”
“Of course I want this… a baby of my own.”
“Our own, Claudine.”
I shivered a little. I wanted so much to tell, to rid myself of this burden of guilt. But I should have to carry it alone… all through my life.
I could not tell David any more than I could tell my mother.
What a celebration there was that night! The news was out.
Sophie was induced to join us at the table. It was a very special occasion, she was told. Sabrina came down too. She looked rather wan; she found the winters very trying and spent a great deal of time in bed now.
When we were all seated Dickon said: “I have an announcement to make. We have to drink the health of newcomers who will shortly be making their appearance at Eversleigh.”
Sabrina and Sophie listened intently.
Dickon then waved his hand first to my mother and then to me.
“Lottie and I are going to have a child—and so are Claudine and David. It is a most auspicious occasion. One would have been a matter for rejoicing, but two—that means jubilation. We are going to drink the very best wine we have in the cellars to the health of our mothers. God bless them, and may all they desire be theirs.”
Jonathan smiled at me as he lifted his glass.
Sabrina was shaking with emotion and I noticed that Sophie’s lips were drawn down at the corners. Poor Sophie, once more she was thinking of all that she had missed.
The tears were running down Sabrina’s cheeks.
“Come, come, Mother,” said Dickon, “this is supposed to be a happy occasion.”
“Tears of happiness, my darling boy,” she said. “I know this is what you wanted to complete your happiness. A dear child… Lottie’s… and another grandchild for me. I hope I live to see it.”
“What nonsense!” said Dickon. “Of course you’ll live to see it. I insist, and Lottie says you always do what I want.”
They drank to the future; and in the kitchens the servants drank a toast to us.
There was a great deal of talk about babies at the table. My mother told of the births of my brother and myself and all the difficulties of pregnancies as though this was the most enjoyable experience known to womankind.
“I suppose,” said Dickon, with feigned resignation, “this will be the burden of our conversation for months to come. I doubt we shall ever escape from nursery topics.”
“It is a great deal more healthy than this continuous talk of revolution, and spies, and poor men transported merely for speaking their minds,” retorted my mother.
“Wise men know when to keep silent,” said Jonathan, “and that goes for women too.”
He was looking straight at me and smiling.
I thought: Yes, he and Dickon are alike. Dickon must have been very like Jonathan when he was making his way to becoming one of the richest men in the country and not caring very much how he did it. Amoral, that was the word. Immoral too. But who was I to talk? I was realizing now how much I loved David; and yet I had played on him about the worst deception any woman can play upon a man.
There was no escaping my guilt. It was going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
A few weeks passed. We were in February now, and although it was cold there was the faintest hint of spring in the air. I felt very sick in the mornings and did not rise until midday; in the afternoons I felt quite well again. My mother did not seem to suffer from these signs of pregnancy.
Showing a certain resignation, Jonathan did not pursue me. I suppose I seemed a quite different woman to him now; and in any case I had lost all my desire to be with him.
I used to lie on my bed in abject misery, trying to look into the future and being unable to; and I used to think how easy it would have been to overcome this physical affliction if my mind were free from remorse. In the afternoons my mood changed, for the sickness passed and I felt surprisingly well.
I liked to ride then… alone. I should soon have to give up riding, and I wanted to make the most of it while I could still enjoy it.
Jonathan was very preoccupied; he and Dickon were a great deal together. Some days they rode over to Farringdon Manor and I believed Lord Pettigrew met them there. The position on the Continent was changing; and the war was not going as they had optimistically hoped. Who would have thought that a country in the throes of revolution would have been able to put an army in the field?
They were watchful; our whole country seemed to be, and that there were fears in certain quarters was certain. A great many people were being sent out to Australia for what was known as sedition.
However, I had my own problems, and on this February afternoon I decided to ride through the lanes and look for the signs of approaching spring. I had an idea that time would help me to come to terms with my problems. My baby was due in September, my mother’s in August; and I looked forward to that date with an intense yearning. I had some notion that once I had my baby he—or she—would bring me such joy that it would overwhelm my melancholy.
I rode on, walking my horse. I would not gallop for fear of harming the baby—although, of course, it was too early a stage to be disturbed. However, I was cautious.
I found a certain pleasure in the sight of a few celandines peeping up among the grass. They were early—the first sign of spring; and there were crimson-tipped daisies making a brave show among the green. In the distance the river wound its way down to the sea. I rode towards it and passed over the wooden bridge which spanned it. I was startled by the sudden cry of a lapwing. They were mating down there; their cries sounded more melancholy than usual.
Soon the birds would be in full song. I used to love to listen to them. They were so joyous; they hadn’t a care in the world.
I had a sudden desire to see the sea.
I remembered how Charlot used to look across to France with wistful longing eyes. Where was Charlot now? Charlot and Louis Charles—they were fighting with the French against the English. How would Charlot feel about that? What a complication we had made of our lives!
I could smell the sea now; the gulls were whirling round and round uttering their mournful cries, searching for food, I supposed. As I looked up and watched them I heard someone calling my name.
“Mrs. Frenshaw, Mrs. Frenshaw… can you come here?”
I turned my horse in the direction of the voice.
“Where are you?” I called.
“Down here.” A figure emerged on the shaw and I recognized Evie Mather.
“I’m coming,” I called, and rode towards her.
In a little cove, sheltered by protruded boulders, a man was lying stretched out. His face was pale, his eyes shut and his damp dark curling hair fell over his brow. He looked as though he had been washed up by the tide.
Dolly stood beside Eve, and their horses waited quietly.
“Who is he?”
Evie lifted her shoulders. “I’ve no idea. We’ve just found him. We heard someone and we came along to look. Then we saw him lying there.”
I dismounted and knelt by the young man. I saw that he was young—under twenty, I should think.
I said: “He is breathing.”
“He seemed to faint when we came along.”
“We have to get him away from here,” I said.
“That’s what we thought, and we were trying to figure out how when we saw you.”
“One of us could go back and send for help. Unless we can take him back with us. Do you think we could lift him and put him on my horse?”