He had looked at me with a certain contempt and I wondered why a man such as he who was fond of women-some said too fondshould find nothing to care about in his own daughter. I wondered what he would say if he knew the extent to which I had been involved with Jocelyn. He would be horrified, I was sure. Yet according to what I had gathered he had had adventures at a very early age. What was natural for him and those who shared his pleasures was shocking in his daughter. This was strange, for he was a logical man in other matters.
A few days passed, and when the possibility that I might be going to have a child came to me I was jerked out of my misery momentarily. I had not thought of this.
I had been so wrapped up in my grief. Now I was faced with a problem. If it were to be so, what should I do?
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I could not marry because the father of my child was dead. I did not want to tell my mother. I could not bear to think what my father’s reaction would be. If Leigh or Edwin were here I might confide in them. They would help me, both of them. But they were far away and I did not even know where.
My emotions were in turmoil. I did not know whether I was glad or not that this had happened. I was filled at one moment with the wonder of it and the next with a fearful foreboding.
A child-the result of that night we had spent on the mist-shrouded island! Our wedding night, Jocelyn had called it. And our marriage was to have taken place as soon as we returned to the mainland.
Oddly enough a change had settled on me. I was more serene, which seemed strange in view of the enormity of the problem which was arising before me. It was almost as though Jocelyn were speaking to me from beyond the grave in which they had laid his poor mutilated body.
Then I was certain. It was to be.
I tried to work out what I must do. I needed help, but I did not want my mother to know. As to my father-I shivered at the thought. I could not talk to Christabel.
Since our return I had avoided her. I kept wondering why she had not told me that it would be dangerous to go to the island and I could not completely convince myself that she had forgotten. She had played a big part in the tragedy and I felt unsure of everyone, including myself.
There was, of course, Harriet. I wrote to her, carefully disguising what was wrong but wondering whether a woman of her worldliness might guess. I had to see her, I said. I wanted to talk to her, as I could not talk to anyone else. Would she invite me please?
Her response was immediate.
My mother came to my room holding a letter in her hand. “It’s from Harriet,” she said. “She wants you to go over for a visit. She thinks it would be good for you.
Would you like to go?”
“Oh, yes,” I said fervently.
“Perhaps it would be a good idea.”
“I should like to get away for a while.”
She looked at me sadly, and I went on angrily: “I think my father would be delighted not to have to see me.”
“Oh, Priscilla, you must not say that.”
“But it’s true.”
“It is not true.”
“It is. Why do we have to pretend? He has never wanted me. I was of the wrong sex.
He wanted a boy who would be just like him—
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self. I am expected to go through my life apologizing for not being a boy.”
“You are overwrought, my dearest.”
“Yes, I should like to go away,” I said firmly.
I could see how hurt she was and I was sorry.
She put her arm about me and I was stiff and unyielding. She sighed and said: “Christabel should go with you.”
I did not protest although I would rather have gone alone.
At Eyot Abbas, Harriet greeted me warmly.
“I was afraid you would not want to come here again,” she said. “I feared it might bring it all back too clearly.”
“I had to come,” I told her. “And I want to remember… I want to remember every minute.”
“Of course you do.”
Harriet greeted Christabel with warmth but I did not think she greatly liked her.
Harriet was a superb actress though, and one could never be sure.
I knew it would not be long before we were alone together and Harriet soon contrived that. I had been in my room only five minutes when she arrived. She had given Christabel a room on the next floor and I guessed there had been a purpose in this. Harriet anticipated many an uninterrupted talk.
She came in conspiratorially, her lovely eyes alight with speculation.
“Tell me, my dear, just tell me.”
“I am going to have a child,” I said.
“Yes. I thought that was it. Well, Priscilla, we must see what can be done. There are people who can be of assistance.”
“You mean get rid of it. I don’t want that, Harriet. I should hate it.”
“I thought so. Well, what do you propose? What will your parents say?”
“They’ll be horrified. My father will be quite contemptuous.”
“He would. Having himself played the masculine role in dramas of this nature, he would be deeply horrified at his daughter’s taking the feminine one. Such men always are. I want to snap my fingers at them.”
“You don’t like Hm, Harriet, I know. He is one of the few people I have heard you speak quite vehemently against.”
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“No, I don’t like him. To be perfectly honest I think it’s because he never liked me.”
“All men like you, Harriet.”
“Most of them,” she agreed. “He hardly looked at me. He was all for your mother.
She was the one he wanted.”
“I know he has a very special feeling for her. I wish they were more gentle with each other.”
“He’s not the kind. But what are we doing talking of him? We have our problem.”
It was typical of Harriet that she should call it “our problem.” That was the charm of her. She was not in the least shocked and she was going to summon all her ingenuity to help me.
I felt the tears come to my eyes and she, seeing them, patted my hand and said practically: “We’ve got to get down to serious planning. You’re sure, are you?”
“Yes.”
“And you are going to keep the child?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Have you thought what this will mean? The child will always be there in your life.
You see, this matter does not now end with Joeelyn’s death. He will always be there through this child. Now, you have your own life before you. It has scarcely begun.
You should ask yourself whether you want this child to be there for the rest of your life. It is possible to get rid of it. I know how that can be done, but it will have to be now. It is dangerous later. In fact it could be dangerous now. I hope you won’t want to do it, Priscilla. But if you decide …”
“I couldn’t. I want the child. It has already made a difference to me. I no longer feel as though I died with him. I now feel there is something for me in the future.”
“Very well, that’s settled. But what are we going to do? Are we going to tell your parents?”
“I don’t want to. I’d rather go away.”
“Does anyone else know this? Does Christabel?”
“No. No one.”
“So at the moment it is our secret… yours and mine.”
I nodded.
“You could go to your mother and tell her. She would consult your father. They might decide on two alternatives: to send you away where you could have your child in secret and then get it adopted, or marry you off to some willing young man who will take you for a price and it will be pretended that your child was born 105
prematurely. No one will believe it, of course, but it helps the conventions. Do either of these prospects appeal to you?”
“I wouldn’t agree to either.”
She smiled at me. “You are a very determined young woman, Priscilla. I understand your feelings. Now when I had Leigh I had no such fine feelings. You see how much easier it is for a woman like me. I’m bold and I snap my fingers in the face of convention and everyone thinks I am rather a wicked woman. But I get along very well. I have been thinking about you so much. I shall never forget your dear stricken face when you heard the news. I knew what had happened on the island. It is often easy to see in a young girl’s face when she had taken a lover. I saw it in yours and I was glad for you. He was a charming boy and young love is beautiful. Well, now it is over and I do not regret it. You have had a taste of life and found it first sweet, then bitter. But that is life, my dear. I must stop philosophizing and we must plan.”
“You are going to help me, Harriet, I know.”
“Of course I am going to help you. You have always been dear to me. I am very fond of your mother. I have treated her badly at times. It was wicked of me, was it not, to go off with a lover and leave little Leigh-my own child-for her to look after?
I was trapped, though. Her parents knew me for the adventuress I was and so did the Eversleighs. They didn’t know then that Leigh was an Eversleigh. They had pinned that indiscretion on some poor, defenceless young man. Oh, it is so complicated and when you read about it you will understand, perhaps. You may not like me much then.
I come out in a very bad light.”
“I shall always love you whatever the lighting is like.”
“Bless you, child. But let us be serious and clever. We have to be, you know, for this is a mighty problem.”
“Harriet, what can I do?”
“An idea came to me when I received your letter because, as I said, I guessed at once what your dilemma was. Would you be prepared to deceive your mother?”
“I don’t understand, Harriet.”
“If your mother knows, so will your father, and I gather you don’t want him to.”
“I dread that more than anything.”
“You are very close to him in a way, Priscilla.”
“I! Close to him! He doesn’t care anything for me.”
“Perhaps that’s why you care so much about him. You want him to love you. You always did. You admire him. Oh, yes, you do. He is
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the sort of man women admire. Strong, ruthless, virile . , . cornpletely a man, if you know what I mean. I can assure you that my quiet and loving Gregory is easier to live with. I myself have felt the attraction your father exerts over women. I am not indifferent to him. Oh, understand me, I have no designs on him. I would like to score over him, to snap my fingers at him. I like the fact that his daughter should come to me for help and that I should know what is happening while he remains in ignorance of it. I am talking a lot of nonsense.”
“No. You’re talking sense. I understand, and I think you realize my relationship with him better than anyone else ever has … more than I do myself. I could not bear him to know what has happened. He is the sort of man who would shrug his shoulders if he knew we had been lovers, but rant and rage against me if I were to have a child.
I could not bear him to know.”
“Then my plan might appeal to you.”
“Harriet, tell me.”
“It may not work. It is rather wild. It will need a great deal of careful planning … a certain intrigue.”
“And you love intrigue.”
“Working it out, yes. The carrying it out is going to make life very interesting in the next year.”
“You’re keeping me in suspense.”
“It is very simple. 7 will be the mother of the child, not you.”
“How could that possibly be!”
“I am not sure yet. I have to work it out. Gregory would be in on the secret of course.
It would be impossible if he were not. He will be the father.”
“Harriet, what are you saying!”
“Now don’t dismiss it. Don’t be one of those people who see defeat everywhere before they have explored the possibility of success. You will have to spend a lot of time with me. Why not? I will tell them that you are in need of a change of scene. You are not well. You are fading away. I will take you away with me for a few months.
Then we will go to France … to Italy … Benjie is going away to school. That helps. I shall miss him. So you and I will travel. It is just what we both need.
When we have left I will write to your mother and tell her that Gregory and I are in a state of bliss because we are going to have a child. I, who had thought my childbearing days were over! You must be my companion during those waiting months. In due course my/your child will be born and we shall return to England.”
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“Harriet! What an idea!”
“I can see nothing wrong with it, if we play our cards well. And we shall, never fear. I have played a great many parts and I shall play this one with my usual skill.
You will do well, too.”
“And when we return to England?”
“The child will live at Eyot Abbas and you will be devoted to it. You will love it as your own and I shall laugh with your mother and tell her that I believe my little Gregory or Harriet, whichever it is, has given you a new interest in life. You will come and stay with me more and more and no one need ever know the truth unless you wish them to.”
I went to her and hugged her. “Oh, Harriet, you think of the most fantastic ideas!”
“They work-and so will this. The most difficult part, I believe, is now. You’ll have to go back to Eversleigh. Then we’ll start planning. I don’t want you there too long.
You have a household of prying servants. No one must guess your condition, no one.
No one knows as yet. Let us keep it that way. Don’t tell anyone.”
“I was wondering about Christabel. If I come to you…”
“Christabel should not come. The fewer people who are in a secret the safer it is.
Christabel will have to go.”
“She comes from a wretched home. She is always afraid that she will be sent back there.”
“I shall have to think about her. I am a little unsure of her. The way in which she came into the house is a little mysterious and she is not treated like a governess, is she? At the moment not a word to her. This is a secret … yours and mine. I shall start working on what we must do. In the meantime you will have to be on your guard. The servants must not guess. You have that hell-raising Jasper and his ninny of a wife and their chaste daughter. You must take special care. I shall not write anything of this to you. It is never safe to put things on paper. I shall in due course ask you to come and visit me. And I will prepare the way.”