Authors: Lucinda Riley
“But she’s very beautiful. I never saw someone so beautiful,” the scullery maid added shyly.
“That she is,” said Mrs. Thomas, “but wouldn’t we all be, if we took the time she takes with her appearance and had the money spare to pretty ourselves up with all them dresses of hers?”
“Is she kind?” I persisted, feeling I’d heard nothing about what Violet the person was like, only how rich and beautiful.
“Kind enough,” replied Tilly. “When I help her with her hair and into her gowns at night, she doesn’t chat or gossip about anything except her clothes and jewels. I don’t think she’s ever asked me a question about my life.”
“I’d say we could’ve had worse,” said Mrs. Thomas. “At least she’s not another battle-axe, like the one who’s just moved to the dower house. And at least the house is busy and full of young people, rather
than dowagers in mourning. Astbury’s come back to life since Lady Violet arrived and we must all be grateful for that.”
• • •
From that moment on, I was never short of company. You and I were invited constantly to the servants’ cottages in the village to take tea or to join them at the local fête, the fair that arrived every few months on Astbury Green. I took care to make sure that it was us who visited
them
, pointing out that it was much more convenient as I had a pony and trap and it was a good three-mile walk from the village across the moors to my cottage. Even so, I lived in terror of a friend turning up unexpectedly while Donald was visiting me.
Word began to spread through the village that I was back in Astbury, and also about the herbal remedies that I’d begun to use again to help Mrs. Thomas’s arthritis, Tilly’s bronchitis and even the butler’s gout. The cuttings I’d taken from the kitchen garden and replanted in my own had taken well and were flourishing. Donald was building me a small greenhouse to protect them from winter frost, and when I was out on the moors, I came across many indigenous medicinal plants, which I also added to my growing collection.
Many afternoons that summer saw me trotting in the trap across the moors with you next to me, heading to the home of a villager whose child was sick with a fever. These people had no recourse to health care of any kind. The doctor charged a small fortune for a visit and most of them simply couldn’t afford it. I didn’t ask for any payment; the look on the face of a relieved mother was enough.
I also began to find my traditional nursing experience worked well with my knowledge of Ayurvedic herbs. I was able to spot when my remedies would be to no avail. And if the patient was too far gone for my help, I’d advise that the local hospital was the only course of action remaining.
In July, at a christening in the village, I met the local doctor again. I hadn’t seen him since he’d arrived too late to deliver Selina’s baby all those years ago.
“May I thank you, Miss Anahita,” said Dr. Trefusis, giving me a slight bow. “You’ve made my workload less and the villagers are benefitting from your knowledge. Have you ever thought of resuming your career? A district nurse would be a blessing to everyone locally.”
“I have thought of it, but I have a son to care for and any proper
employment would take up too much of my time while he’s so young,” I told him. “Also, I doubt the medical profession would approve of me using herbs from the land to help my patients.”
“No, you’re probably right,” Dr. Trefusis said. “I’d be fascinated to learn more, however. Anything that gives the poor a free source of healing must be a positive thing. So carry on the good work.”
• • •
“My goodness, I hardly see you these days, in between your errands of mercy,” commented Donald in late August. Violet was due home any day, so Donald had “gone to London” and was spending time with us at the cottage.
“It keeps me occupied and I like helping people,” I replied.
“I know you do,” he said as he spooned up the stew I’d prepared for us. “It won’t be so easy for you in the winter, though, will it?”
“Sheba’s a strong pony and used to the moors now. I’m sure she’ll cope if there’s snow again this year.”
“Perhaps I should think about installing a telephone here,” mused Donald. “That way, at least, I could contact you if there’s a problem and the villagers could use the one in the post office if there’s a patient who needs you urgently.”
“It’s kind of you, Donald, but telephones are so expensive and I’d prefer not to take any more money from you.”
“Anni, darling, your upkeep comes to nothing material at all,” Donald said, trying to reassure me. “Look here, if we were married, you wouldn’t even question it. And we are, my darling, in all but name. Besides, the fact that you’re helping the local community is a wonderful thing, and I’m very proud of you. So installing a telephone is the least I can do to assist you.”
“All right,” I said with a sigh, “thank you.”
“What you do is all in such contrast to my dear wife.” Donald sighed too. “Violet does absolutely nothing to help anyone but herself. To be honest, I’m dreading her coming home from New York. We have only one more night together. It’s really not very satisfactory, is it?”
“I’m grateful for what we’ve had, Donald,” I answered, although as I said the words my appetite suddenly vanished.
“It may be a few days before I’m able to get away,” Donald said, cautioning me, as he left for the hall the following morning. “Good-bye, my darling. Take care of yourself and our boy, won’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, feeling tears spring to my eyes. Even though I’d see him soon, I knew he was returning to his other world and would be no longer solely mine.
Another winter began to draw in, and with the arrival of the cold weather the demands of my patients on my time became heavier. But I was glad of the distraction. I’d seen far less of Donald since Violet had been home. It would have seemed strange if he’d been absent from Astbury too often after spending six months apart from her. He dropped in as regularly as he could, often on his way to London for a party or a dance.
“Most of her friends are such arrogant, crashing bores, I can hardly bear it. But still,” he said with a sigh, “I must do what is required of me.”
One mid-December evening, Donald arrived unexpectedly at the cottage. He looked haggard and drawn and stared at me with fear in his eyes.
“What is it?” I asked him, knowing immediately something was wrong.
“I have some news,” he said, sitting down heavily in a chair at the kitchen table.
“Is it bad news?” I asked as I put the kettle on the range to boil.
“I’d doubt anyone else would see it as such, but I worry that you might, Anni. And I wanted to tell you before anyone else did. You know what it’s like around here; gossip, especially of this nature, spreads like wildfire. And I’m sure most of the servants are aware already.”
“Then tell me,” I entreated him, hardly daring to think what it might be.
Donald took a deep breath, then, unable to meet my eyes, looked down at his feet. “Violet . . . is expecting a baby.”
“I see.” I understood then why he felt I was the only person who would not see the news as positive.
“Anni, in truth, do you mind?”
Of course I minded! Not about the forthcoming child but the intimate process it had taken to produce it. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought. However, I wanted to act with dignity in front of Donald. I’d known what the circumstances were when I’d first agreed to this.
“It’s only natural that you and your wife would want to produce
a family. And an heir to the estate,” I added, endeavoring to keep the bitterness from my voice. “I’m hardly in a position to mind, am I?”
“Of course you are,” Donald said, suddenly angry. “I mean if the boot were on the other foot, and this were you telling me, I doubt I’d be able to cope with it at all.”
“I have no choice in the matter, I will cope with it,” I said firmly.
“And you should also know, Anni, that the process of making the child has been an act of duty, not of pleasure.”
I wanted to believe his words, and in fact, I had no doubt that he spoke the truth, but the thought of it still seared right to my soul.
“And the worst part is that already Violet is taking the pregnancy badly. She’s canceled all engagements for the next few weeks because she says she feels so ill, and has taken to her bed. This means, unfortunately, that for the foreseeable future, at least, her attention won’t be otherwise engaged as it usually is. I’ll have to spend much more time at home with her. I’m so very sorry, Anni.”
“We’ll find our way through this, I’m sure. We have before, after all.”
“Yes, but it’s just that, more and more, I feel the life I’m living with Violet at the hall is a lie,” he said miserably.
“Well, there’s nothing to be done, and we must both simply make the best of it.” I knew I was being short with him, but I was still trying to grapple with the ramifications of what he’d just told me. At present, I couldn’t find it in me to be sympathetic.
“Yes.” He looked at me guiltily, understanding. “Forgive me, darling, today of all days, it should be me comforting you. Sadly, I’d better be going. Dr. Trefusis is coming to see Violet shortly.” Donald stood up and kissed me on the top of my head. “I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
D
onald told me that Dr. Trefusis had apparently pronounced Violet fit and well. He had given her charcoal for her sickness and told her to rest until it passed. The news was to be announced to the wider world when the baby was over twelve weeks, although they had both told their parents.
“My mother has asked that I visit her at the dower house this afternoon to discuss what she termed a ‘delicate matter,’ so I must leave,” Donald said apologetically when he came to visit us a few days later. “God knows what it is she wants.”
After he’d left, I wondered what she wanted too. I knew that Maud Astbury was my nemesis, the black crow on my shoulder, waiting for a chance to peck away at my little piece of happiness. When Donald arrived the following day, I could see from his face that her summons had been to do with me. I made tea for both of us and we took it into the sitting room to enjoy the warmth of the fire.
“So, what did she say?” I asked him.
“She told me there have been some rumors about my whereabouts locally. Apparently, I’ve been seen riding regularly across the moors.”
“Well, that’s hardly a crime, is it?”
“In one particular direction,” Donald added pointedly.
“Oh, I see. By whom?”
“Apparently, the shepherd told his wife in the village, who told her friend Mrs. Thomas, who told Bessie, my mother’s maid, that he’d seen me on my horse in the vicinity of this cottage many times over the spring and summer months. Obviously I told her that in itself was not cause for rumor,” Donald added. “After all, I’ve always ridden this way across the moors, stopping at the brook to give Glory a drink.”
I sat silently, listening to him.
“Mother made a meal out of the fact that I’m lord of the estate, and every breath I take is analyzed and gossiped about by the staff,” said Donald wearily. “She said the reason she was bringing this to my attention now was because Violet is pregnant, and the doctor has indicated
she’s delicate. She said she wouldn’t wish any of these rumors, no matter how spurious, to reach Violet’s ears while she’s carrying the heir to the Astbury estate. She added that out of common decency, if nothing else, my visits across the moors to see you should cease immediately for the time being.”
“I see.”
“To be honest, Anni, she made me feel like a complete heel, saying it’s bad enough that I’m carrying on a relationship under my wife’s nose, but to continue doing so while Violet is with child is disgusting.”
“Well, on this occasion, however much it pains me, I believe your mother is right,” I said eventually. “Violet knows nothing of all this. In fact, you could say that makes her more of a victim than either of us.”
“I know, Anni.” Donald hung his head in shame. “She doesn’t deserve any of it, especially not at the moment.”
“No, she doesn’t. And whether or not your mother is using the pregnancy as a lever to achieve her goal and destroy us, we must both have compassion for Violet. Don’t think I’m not consumed by guilt every day about deceiving her too,” I added. “We must both act with decency and integrity during this time. So, you must stop coming to visit me.”
“But what will you do, Anni? How will you manage? More to the point, how will I?”
“Perhaps we could resort to writing letters to each other again.”
“Very funny.” Donald gave a mirthless chuckle.
“It’s for the best.”
“But how can I keep away?”
“You simply must.”
He took my hand in his and kissed it tenderly. “Right, it seems we have to say good-bye once more. But only temporarily, until the child is born.”
“The months will pass quickly, I’m sure,” I said, trying to reassure him.
“My Moh will be almost three by the time I see him again,” Donald said wistfully.
We stood up and walked together to the kitchen door, then held each other close.
“I’ll find ways of contacting you, my Anni, don’t you worry. I love you.”
“Good-bye, Donald,” I whispered.
• • •
And after that conversation, I settled down to yet more time apart from the man I loved. But the fact that we were both in this pact together, equally intent on doing the right thing, made it a little easier. I was busy with you and my patients, and did my best to keep from dwelling on our enforced separation.
Christmas arrived and in the morning I found a basket on my doorstep containing another huge turkey, various treats and a present for myself and for you. In the evening, I joined the other villagers at the village hall for a Christmas party. It was wonderful to see your face light up at the garish decorations that had been strung around the room.
On New Year’s Eve, Tilly and her sweet husband, Jim, invited us to their cottage. They had a child called Mabel, who was of a similar age to you.
“Happy New Year,” I whispered silently to Donald as the church bells rang in the New Year. Somehow, it made it even harder with his being so near and yet so far.