Cry of the Peacock (39 page)

She wished to say no, but feared to do it. She feared him.

“I’m an unforgivable, impatient, impulsive lout, and you would be right to despise me. Only I do hope you won’t.”

“No,” she answered him at last. “Of course I won’t.”

*   *   *

“Well?” David asked of Mr. Meredith upon his returning to the entrance hall. “Did you accomplish it? Does she know?”

Mr. Meredith, took up his hat and gloves, examined them a moment, and then looked up at David. “There wasn’t time, I’m afraid. I’m not sure when I’ll have another opportunity. I don’t imagine I’ll be welcome here again.”

“If only I’d have been able to distract him somehow.”

“Yes, well. I should have taken better advantage of the time given me,” and he turned to go.

“If you are not too pressed for time…” David said stopping him. “James could use some cheering, I think.”

“How is he?”

“I was hoping you could tell me, actually. He said he had another row with Benderby, but he won’t say more than that.”

“Hmmm,” Meredith said and looked up toward the stairwell.

“No one else was injured, I hope?”

Meredith shook his head. “No. I think the constable suffered a grazing, but that was all.”

“And he’s apprehended then, Benderby is?”

“Indeed!”

“How did it happen?” David asked. “James would not say.”

“Benderby followed Miss Mariana home. James happened to spy him and went in pursuit.”

“She is well? You said no one else was injured.”

“She’s entirely unharmed. Shocked of course, and, well…”

“Yes?”

“There was a misunderstanding of sorts between them,” Meredith vaguely explained. “You know how carefully she guards her privacy.”

“But if James was only trying to help her…”

“It’s a complicated matter, and best left for him to tell, if he will.”

David accepted this only reluctantly. “Very well.”

“Has a doctor been in?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It would perhaps be wise.”

“Yes, of course,” David answered. “I’ll send for him directly. You will come up?”

“Dare I?”

“Ruskin will be occupied for some minutes, I’m afraid,” David answered with a glowering look toward the parlor door. At least Becky’s presence would prevent his brother from taking too great an advantage of the moment. “And so long as you’ve no objection to using the servants’ stairs, I can get you out easily enough.”

“Sounds like an adventure.”

“Are you up for it?”

“Always.”

“Good. Come,” David said and led the lawyer up two flights of stairs to the third floor, where he and James, and Ruskin too, kept their rooms.

David knocked at James’ door, and, receiving a gruff reply, opened it.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“Did you?” David answered. “It seems my memory’s going as well as my epistolary skills. I brought a visitor.”

James turned, but upon seeing who it was, turned his head back to look at the ceiling. “It’s you,” he said.

“I came to see how you are recovering.”

“I couldn’t be better.”

“It smells like an ale house in here.” Meredith looked to the brandy decanter, nearly empty, on the night table. “Have you been bathing in it?”

“Very nearly.”

“Have you had anyone to look at that bump on your head?”

“It’s nothing.”

Meredith sat. “If you are so very fit, would you mind telling me what this is about?” he asked with a sweep of his hand that implied James’ prostration.

James glanced at him dourly, but did not answer.

“Mr. Crawford,” Mr. Meredith said to David, “would it be possible to send for that doctor now?”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“Nevertheless.”

David nodded and quit the room.

*   *   *

Silence loomed, and James, with his eyes closed, vainly wished for it to continue. Of course it wouldn’t. He wanted only to be left alone. To think. To regret. To forget, if he could. In peace and privacy. Clearly it was too much to hope for.

“You, my friend, are an ass.”

James looked at Meredith, sat up, and looked at him some more. “That’s exceedingly kind of you—and exceedingly brave.”

“Perhaps you understand now why she wanted to keep her secret from you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t oblige.” It was Meredith, after all, who had arranged for him to convalesce in Mariana’s house. There was no point making the argument, though. He had wanted to be there, had rejoiced upon awaking in her charming sitting room and with her there to look over him.

“She wanted to spare you, and herself, any unnecessary anguish. That you are shocked is natural.”

Shocked? The word was insufficient. James blew a mirthless breath of laughter.

“But to walk out, without a word, to leave her wondering for two days… It is beneath you. I suppose it natural you should think ill of her work, but to turn your back so coldly… To despise her now…”

“I do not despise Mariana Gray.” Was it even possible?

“No?”

“Would to God I did! This would all be so much easier.”

“I’m waiting…”

James let him wait, too, while he arose and washed his face in cold water. Despise Mariana Gray? Well, he’d certainly tried. In fact he’d given it his utmost effort. Tried, if vainly, to bury himself in bedclothes and brandy. To no effect. His feelings refused to change or be set aside. If anything, they’d intensified, and in equal measure with his self-loathing. Washed, he dried his face and looked at himself hard in the mirror. He saw Mr. Meredith watching him, waiting still.

“Do you have any idea,” James said, turning to face his guest, “what it was like to sit in that room, in that house, her house…to see those women, and know that any of them, perhaps the whole lot of them, might have been put there by me as easily as anyone? Do you know what it was like to be faced with my inadequacies, my wretchedness, and in the company of she whom I wished most in the world to impress?

“And she,” he went on, “this…angel of mercy to the lost and downtrodden, rescuing them, trying to restore them. That I should presume to be worthy of her! I don’t know how I can ever look her in the face. I suppose you thought I would consider her very low and degraded.”

“I did. That is, I feared it. So does she, still. How long do you mean to leave her in suspense?”

“What am I to do? She has admonished me not to return.”

“She left it to you, if I remember correctly.”

James hesitated, considering. “Did she? I hardly remember.”

“Well you wouldn’t, as hard as you’d been jugged. Are you truly all right?”

“Yes. I think so. It hurts like hell, to be sure. I have a headache the size of this house, but…”

“It could be worse.”

“I don’t see how.”

“You could be dead, of course.”

“Thank you very much for the reminder,” James answered.

“Will you go to her? Will you tell her she has not fallen in your esteem?”

He thought of it. Had been thinking of it. Wanted to, at times almost desperately. “How can I?”

“You’re an ass.”

“You said that.”

“It bears repeating.” Meredith fidgeted with the arm of the chair, then cleared his throat. “I do understand, you know.”

“I suppose you must. You see it every day, after all.”

“It’s worse than that. I was married once.”

James made no reply, only listened.

“I’d known her from youth. Loved her, I think, from the moment we met. But she was in love with someone else. Someone much higher than her. She was quite certain he would marry her, or that she could convince him to do it. I doubt that was ever in his mind. He reaped what rewards he could from her affection, and left her. Of course I was heartbroken, but in the end, I loved her still. She married me, as a last resort, I suppose, but she never really recovered from her disappointment. When the time came, she had not the strength necessary to deliver her child in safety. They both died.”

“I’m-” James looked at Meredith, really looked at him. What torment he must go through every day. To think it was his lot now to watch Abbie. It was not quite the same, and yet… “I’m very sorry for you.”

“Yes. Well. We all have our sad tales, I suppose. That you do not deserve Miss Gray perhaps goes without saying. Who among us deserves the women we really want? But truly, you have half the work behind you, don’t you see?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“She loves you already.”

James turned from Meredith to examine himself in the looking glass. “It’s impossible,” he said at last. “She said so herself.”

“I suppose that depends.”

“On what, pray?”

“On you, mostly. Your family will not be pleased by the connection.”

“Considering my parents propensity to choose their sons’ wives, I’m not sure I care.”

“So what do you mean to do?”

“I don’t know. I have work to do at the estate, but I cannot help but think I’m of better use at present here.”

“Or of little use there, do you mean, what with your dizziness?”

“I’m not— How can you tell?”

“You’re holding onto that wash stand like you’re about to topple over. Are you?”

“Dizzy? Like I’m on a ship!”

“I’m glad I had your brother send for the doctor, then. Mariana sent me, you should know. She said it was time her sister knew.”

“You told her?” James said, and spun around, and wished very much he had not. He closed his eyes until the room steadied itself.

“I tried. I was interrupted by your eldest brother, of course.” Meredith sighed in frustration. “Unless she can find a way to come to her aunt’s, I’m afraid the responsibility is on you.”

But James was not so certain it ought to come from him, after all. Yes, he was a disinterested party as far as that went, but perhaps that was not what Abbie needed, after all.

David entered the room again. “I’ve sent for him,” he said. “The doctor, I mean. You’re up!”

“I don’t need a blasted doctor. I need a change of clothes.”

“And a bath,” David added.

“Yes, thank you.”

“What then?” Mr. Meredith asked him.

James only answered with a half-warning look. “We were just speaking of Abbie,” he said, and looked to David. “Meredith was telling me he was interrupted in his attempt to tell her what we all feel she should by now know.”

“I prepared her for it,” Meredith said, “but that is all.”

“Meaning?” David asked.

“Meaning she knows that there is something she needs to know, but not what it is. It would be unkind to make her wait much longer.”

“Which is why I think you should do it,” James said to his brother.

“Me?” David protested. “How is it you think it should come from me?”

“Do you think I’m in any state to be speaking of laws and inheritances?” It was an excuse, though perhaps it was valid enough.

David was silent for a long time, and then: “Good God,” he said at last and sat.

James took up the brandy bottle and offered it to Mr. Meredith, who shook his head. David could not see past his own nose at the moment, he was so preoccupied with the charge given him. James certainly didn’t envy him, but David’s present manner was something of a reassurance. James poured a glass for himself, dabbed his head again and drank.

“When will you do it?” James asked after another minute or more of silence.

David seemed not to hear him at first, but James waited. At last David refocused his gaze and looked up at him. “I don’t know,” he said. “Soon, I suppose. Before Ruskin wears her down, or our father decides to tell her for himself.”

“Have you thought what she is likely to do with the information?”

Again, David thought for a long while. And again, James waited.

“If she returns to her aunt’s, I suppose that may be for the best, after all,” David said, but did not appear to believe it.

“Of course that comes with certain risks,” Meredith said to James with a knowing look.

“What risks?” David asked, but received no reply.

“What might she make of the time she has left in London, is what I’d like to know,” Meredith answered. “It’s the question posed by Mariana, as well.”

“I’m afraid I’m not following you,” David said.

“Well, her reluctance to return Ruskin’s regard is perhaps more reason than ever that she should take advantage of opportunities London Society might offer her,” Meredith said. “Such would be impossible from her aunt’s house. But here, while you are still in Town…”

“Lady Dunstable is throwing her annual Christmas ball next week,” James was reminded. “Will you come, Meredith?”