“And I wish you had,” said Griselda, walking into the bow window and turning her back on him pointedly.
At that moment the door opened and Lady Amberleigh and Caroline came in and she was spared the pain of any more private conversation with him.
***
Dinner concluded, the ladies withdrew, leaving Colonel Farquarson and Tom with a decanter of port and the unspoken understanding that they would not drink above one or two glasses each and would quickly come upstairs to the drawing room for tea. Tom was tempted to drink himself under the table in the old-fashioned style, but the Colonel was a man of impeccable propriety and would not have permitted such a lapse.
He could not have been much above thirty, Tom reckoned, but his experience of life and the world had given him a gravitas that in the present circumstances made Tom feel even worse. If Farquarson knew what had happened between him and his sister – well, the consequences of that did not bear thinking about. For Tom felt that the Colonel’s good opinion was a thing very worth having. A man would be fortunate to be able to call him a friend. Yet there did not seem much chance of that. In the circumstances it would be wrong to press intimacy upon him.
During the meal Miss Farquarson had been seated next to him, so he did not have to look at her constantly across the table. But she had still been far too close for comfort. He could easily have reached out and laid his hand on her thigh and only the greatest effort of self-restraint prevented him from doing that. And from time to time he had not been able to resist turning to look at her: to notice her fingering the tiny curls at the nape of her long neck and then unthinkingly touch the lobe of the ear he had kissed with such delight. Her gestures were all full of sensuality. Even to see her sip her wine disturbed him.
It was not that she was conventionally beautiful like Caroline. She was probably too thin about the face and certainly too tall, and her complexion was not perfect by any means. But she had dominated the room, and had seemed a hundred times more desirable than she had before. Knowing who she was and what she felt of him ought to have checked his feelings, but as the meal passed, and he glanced at her and heard her talk, and worse still laugh, he felt he could only want her more and more. She had been for him the only really interesting object in the room. And even now, as he sat over the wine with Colonel Farquarson, he found herself looking at her empty place at the table, placing her there in his imagination again.
He reached for the decanter and refilled his glass. He had never thought of Caroline like that.
“Come now,” said Farquarson, smiling at him. “The situation isn’t quite so melancholy. The odds may seem stacked against you but the prize is worth the struggle.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Tom, rousing himself a little.
“Go and remind yourself of it,” he said.
“I shall,” said Tom and swallowed down a large mouthful of port. “We shall go and ask Miss Rufford to sing. She sings more beautifully than you can imagine.”
He was not lying. Caroline was an accomplished performer and he decided he would ask her to sing all those songs which had first charmed him. He would sit in her sight and try to think of no-one else but her.
They walked up to the drawing room but the first thing he saw was Miss Farquarson, standing by the fireplace, her elbow on the mantle and an open book in her hand. She looked up at him as he came in, and smiled. For a moment he was filled with a confused joy but he soon realised that the smile was for her brother.
“Poetry, no doubt?” said Farquarson, going to her and examining her book.
“Sir Walter Scott,” she said.
“Of course,” said Farquarson. “Do you know he has written a novel?”
“A novel?” Miss Farquarson said with eagerness. “I look forward to reading that.”
“I have a copy with me at Cromer,” Tom could not resist saying. “I have finished it now. You are welcome to borrow it. I shall bring it to you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, but it is of no great moment,” said Miss Farquarson, coolly. “I have plenty of books to work my way through in this house already.”
She walked away from the fireplace, obviously anxious to put some distance between them. She went to sit beside Caroline on the sofa in the bow window. Caroline had taken up a piece of work while the light permitted it, and Miss Farquarson continued with her book for a few minutes, while Lady Amberleigh poured out tea for the gentlemen.
“That makes a charming picture, does it not?” remarked Lady Amberleigh in a low tone, as she handed a cup to Tom.
Tom nodded, but was very conscious he was looking at the wrong woman. And at that moment Caroline looked up from her work and smiled at him, inviting him to come over to them. He could not very well refuse, so he took his cup and went to sit nearby. Miss Farquarson at once got up to sit with her brother and Lady Amberleigh.
“There is something I should have mentioned at dinner,” he said quietly to Caroline, “but I wanted to tell you first. My mother has come to Cromer. And she has brought Lady Mary with her.”
“Oh dear,” said Caroline, laying down her work. “That is a serious development.”
“There is more, I am afraid,” said Tom, looking away and accidentally meeting Griselda’s eye. He quickly looked back at Caroline. “Lord Wansford was with them too and he is making wild allegations about documents proving I have offered for her. He is threatening to take legal action – to sue me for breach of promise.”
“Breach of promise?” repeated Caroline rather loudly. Everyone else heard it and the conversation at once became general. “Surely not?”
Tom glanced around and saw Farquarson hauling himself up onto his stick. He limped across the room to her.
“Cousin Caroline – be assured, I think Lord Wansford is acting improperly. In fact I believe he is lying.”
“How can you know with such certainty, Hugh?” said Lady Amberleigh.
“I have some experience of such matters,” said the Colonel. “A regimental officer learns to read men. I cannot know for certain, of course, ma’am, but I can appraise the situation and see that in all likelihood, his lordship is trying to threaten Sir Thomas into marrying his daughter. He knows that a public court case would be abhorrent to Sir Thomas.”
While Farquarson spoke, Tom glanced at Griselda once more. She had pressed the open book to her chest and was sitting very still, her face transparent with disgust at him. It was the most painful thing he had witnessed in a day of painful discoveries. He was possessed of the most violent desire to kneel at her feet and try to explain himself. He would have done anything not to have her look at him like that.
“It would be abhorrent to us all,” said Lady Amberleigh.
“Forgive me, ma’am, for speaking out of turn,” said Griselda rising. “But perhaps a court of law is the best place for such a matter to be settled. If Sir Thomas is as innocent as he maintains, he can have nothing to fear from it.”
“You have touching faith in justice, Miss Farquarson,” Tom could not help saying.
“Of course,” she said, her eyes blazing with indignation. “I do not know enough of the world to believe it could be otherwise.”
“No, you do not know enough of the world,” said Farquarson, missing the irony that was intended for Tom alone.
“What shall we do?” said Caroline. “What is to be done, then?” She glanced from Tom to Farquarson in her appeal.
It was Lady Amberleigh who spoke. “I think that the best course at present would be to consider your engagement ended.”
“No, Mamma, no,” said Caroline getting up. “I understand your doubts, but there can be no advantage in that. It is only playing into their hands. How can I break off the engagement? It would be seen as a public condemnation of Sir Thomas. People would believe I thought him guilty and that is the last thing I wish people to think. No, I am inclined to think we should announce our engagement,” she said turning to Tom.
“That is a bold move,” said Farquarson, his voice warm with approval. Tom would have liked to share his enthusiasm for it. He would like to have been able to enjoy her loyalty to him.
“And I agree with Griselda,” Caroline went on. “The courts are the best place for this. Let them clear your name, Sir Thomas, and be assured I shall stand by you throughout. I know we have nothing to fear from them.”
Every eye in the room seemed now to be upon Tom. He realised they were expecting him to respond to this tribute. He got up from his chair and taking both Caroline’s hands, he bent over them and kissed them. It was as public a declaration of affection as the circumstances would permit and there was in it, he realised, the making of a contract. His promises to Caroline were made explicit as he kissed her hands. Yet he knew even if his name was cleared from making false vows to Lady Mary a stain on his character would remain. Nothing could change the facts of the case: he had entangled himself when he should not. He had made promises and then allowed himself to be captivated by another woman who had not known his true position. Griselda had been absolutely right. It was not her conduct that was at fault. It was his, and only his.
And the worst of it was that he knew he would do it again given the slightest opportunity. The only consolation was that it was most unlikely that she would ever grant such a liberty. For one thing was now clear: she despised him.
***
I will not cry, Griselda told herself. He is not worth a single tear.
She was hunched up in the corner of her tented bedstead, clinging to the bolster, her face buried in it, trying to fight the mixture of despair and rage that was overtaking her. Then, in order to relieve her feelings, she turned on the comforting bolster and gave it a few good hard punches.
The door opened softly and Caroline looked round, candle in hand. Griselda, now on her knees and working over the bolster with some animation, forced her features into a welcoming smile.
“There is nothing I detest as much as a lumpy bolster,” she said, throwing it aside.
“And no doubt you are particularly sensitive to lumps having been jolted all the way from Scotland. I always find it is difficult to sleep the first few nights after a long journey. It as if one’s body still thinks it is in the chaise.”
“Exactly,” said Griselda, but longed to confide to Caroline the real circumstances of her journey. She had never had a female confidant before, and Caroline would have been exactly the sympathetic, intelligent listener she required. Her presence in her night gown, with her candle, seemed to indicate she was willing to listen to anything Griselda might wish to tell her. She longed to open her heart to Caroline, but how could she? Her own actions had made it entirely impossible. She must present a bland mask of lies instead and push away a friendship that she really desired.
“May I sit down?” asked Caroline putting down her candle.
“Of course,” said Griselda.
Caroline sat down on the bed and tucked her knees under her chin.
“I can’t sleep,” she said. “I don’t know why. Well, perhaps I do. I must be regretting my bravado.”
“About going to law?”
“Yes,” said Caroline. “It is not a small thing to stand by and see one's future husband sued for breach of promise.” She sighed and then glanced at Griselda. “One has the most disagreeable thoughts,” she said rather quietly.
“You doubt him?” Griselda said, her throat dry.
“I do not mean to,” said Caroline. “It is unforgivable that I should, but… Oh Griselda, the accusation is so serious. Why on earth would Lord Wansford make such a threat unless he was in earnest? When I am with him, I have no doubts, but when I am alone I cannot help thinking…” She screwed up her face, covering her grimace with her hands. “What do you think of him? I know you have only seen him tonight, but the impressions of an intelligent person are often very acute.”
Griselda bit her lip and rummaged for some suitable words.
“His manner seems very correct,” she said. “But manner is not the best indication of conduct.” She wondered if Caroline would notice she was blushing as she said this.
“No, it is not. But then, someone like your brother – I could never imagine that his manner is at odds with his conduct. He must inspire the confidence of all who meet him.”
“And you cannot think the same of Sir Thomas?”
“I do not know. I have always thought that he has an open, warm disposition. Insincerity does not seem to be part of his character and yet this business throws such a strange light upon him. Perhaps I am being too severe – but then, surely a woman must be careful? Marriage is no light thing. I should hate to find I had married a man I could not respect.”
“Then the courts must prove whether you can respect him or not,” Griselda said. “And if they find against him, then you will be free of him. If the court finds that he has promised to marry Lady Mary, then marry her he must.”
Caroline leant back against the wall and gazed up at the bed canopy.
“Yes,” she said, gravely. “That is true. That will be the best test. We cannot prove the matter any other way. We have not enough evidence. But how dreadful to have to put one’s lover on trial!”