In the Shadow of Arabella Page 28
“Serena will be there, but I shall be unable to go,” Katherine answered. “The children and I are leaving early Saturday morning for Lincolnshire and will stay through the wedding.”
“Yes, of course, I had forgotten you were going early,” Meg replied, casting a scornful look at her eldest brother. “I take it you will not be gracing Oliver’s wedding with your presence, Rudley? I have been unable to pry one word from Oliver concerning this feud between the two of you, so I am certain it would be a waste of my time to attempt any explanation from you.”
He raised one eyebrow, answering her with perfect civility. “Quite right, Meg.”
“Permit me to say,” she continued, “that I think you are acting like spoiled children. It is not enough that you are making each other miserable, but you must make life uncomfortable for the rest of us simply because we are unfortunate enough to love you both.”
Katherine could have shouted “Bravo,” for Lady Finley had the courage to voice what Katherine herself had been thinking for weeks but had been afraid to say.
Rudley made no response to his sister’s remark, but taking the poker instead, proceeded to replace a log that had rolled partially onto the hearth.
Lady Finley returned her attention to Katherine. “Well, my dear, I must be going. If I do not see you again before you go north, then I will see you at the wedding. Give my love to Charity.” Katherine offered to accompany her sister-in-law downstairs, and Rudley was left alone with his reflections.
What was it Meg had said? “I hate to see him gambling so.” Was that it? Was Oliver gambling? Rudley could hardly credit it. Yet he himself had seen Oliver at the faro table only a few days ago. Had Oliver acquired debts? Surely he had not lost as much as five thousand pounds. And yet it would be an easy thing for a reckless, inexperienced player to do. Had their argument driven his brother to such a destructive pastime? If this were true, it would explain many things. If Katherine were seeking to pay Oliver’s gambling debts, she would not apply directly to her husband for the money, for he would have refused her, as she had said he would. And if it were indeed a debt of honor, there was no denying it must be paid, hence Katherine’s (or rather Oliver’s) desperate need.
Rudley realized he had no facts upon which to base these conjectures, but if any portion of what he was thinking came anywhere close to the truth, then Meg’s criticism was just. Katherine was caught in the middle—between her love for him and what she felt was her responsibility to help Oliver.
The thing that puzzled him most was how Katherine had become involved in the first place. Surely if Oliver had accumulated debts he would never have approached Katherine for assistance. She must have discovered his predicament some other way, perhaps through Charity. Rudley sighed. Whatever was happening, it was clear that no one had any plans to share it with him, and it was unlikely he would be able to uncover the facts even if he tried.
Determined, however, to at least make an attempt to come at the truth, Rudley set out for Brooks’s. There, during a seemingly casual conversation with his brother’s friend, Peter Everett, he learned that Oliver had only been watching the play that day and not himself participating. Having now had his carefully developed explanation for Katherine’s strange behavior blown into pieces, Rudley was once again at a loss and admitted to himself that the only way he was likely to discover the whole story would be to wait, however impatiently, for his wife to explain.
Three days after her visit from Lady Finley, Katherine received the following note from Oliver:
Dear Katherine,
I have just finished with the lawyers, and everything is finalized. I am now a landowner! The previous owner has already vacated, so I am going down immediately to look things over. I am afraid Ned will not be best pleased to find we are neighbors, but Charity could not be happier.
Oliver
Katherine folded the note and laid it aside. The time had come for her to explain herself to her husband. Now that the sale was final and she was relatively certain there was nothing he could do to interfere, she must tell him how she had used his money and try to make him understand why she had done it. She was determined to speak to him at her first opportunity.
She was not destined to find that opportunity. Rudley was not home for dinner that evening and had still not returned by the time Katherine retired for the night. The following morning she had not yet risen from her bed when he came to her room to inform her that he was departing for Hampshire.
“Now?” she asked, for he was dressed for driving.
“Yes, why not? You are leaving tomorrow, and everything is in readiness for your journey. There is no reason for me to stay on in town. John will be escorting you to Harrington Manor, and you may rely upon him to take excellent care of you and the children. He has also offered to see you safely to Rudley Court after the wedding. I am sorry if my absence will be an embarrassment to you. If anyone should mention it, you may tell them that urgent business has kept me away. They may or may not believe you, but no one would, we must hope, be ill-bred enough to pursue the subject.”
“But must you leave immediately? There was something I particularly wished to discuss with you.”
“You may have ten minutes, but no more, for Henderson is already walking the team. There is a sharp wind this morning.”
Ten minutes! She could never manage to explain in such a short time. She briefly considered asking him to stable the horses but could see he was eager to be on his way. “Ten minutes will not suffice. We had best save it for another time.”
She realized it would probably be best not to broach this particular subject just before they were to be separated for several weeks. There was a good chance Ned would be angry with her for her involvement in Oliver’s affairs, and it would take time for her to fully explain her motives.
He sensed what he thought was her disappointment and offered generously, “Shall I stay?”
She made her decision. “No. You should go; it will keep. Just remember I love you.”
“I am not likely to forget it,” he said, and then, to her surprise, he leaned over the bed and kissed her. Straightening again, he said, “I will be off, then. Have a safe journey and hurry home. I shall miss you, Katherine.” In a few moments he was gone, and for the rest of the day she wondered if she had made a mistake in not having him stay until her story was told.
*
Chapter 25
Charity and Oliver were married in the same church where Charity had been baptized. The wedding was simple and perfect. The church was full to overflowing with family, friends, and neighbors, and if Oliver was disappointed that his brother Edward had not stood up with him, he took care not to let it show.
Katherine and the children left Harrington Manor on the day following the wedding and took the better part of three days to return home. They spent one night at an inn, one night in London, and arrived at Rudley Court early in the afternoon of the third day. Katherine had been away for nearly a month and separated more than two weeks from her husband. Her first view of the lake and the house beyond lifted her spirits.
Alighting from the carriage, the children stopped briefly for a deferential greeting to the earl and then were off, probably to recount their many adventures to whichever of the servants would be willing to listen. John stayed only long enough to partake of some light refreshment, insisting he had promised Fanny he would be home again that evening.
Alone in the blue drawing room, Rudley handed Katherine to a chair near the fire and went to pour her a glass of wine. For several minutes he made polite conversation concerning her journey and then continued in a matter-of-fact tone. “Nurse removed most of Nick’s belongings to Weiring yesterday.” Katherine looked up quickly and he could see that his news did not surprise her. “You knew Oliver had bought the old Ashley estate?”
“Yes, I knew,” she said.
“Why do I get the feeling I helped him?”
“Your sister and I … well, we allowed him to think
it was a loan from Lord Finley, because we knew he would not have accepted it otherwise.”
“How did he manage it?”
“He borrowed as much as he could and used all his accumulated income. He sold his black horse and his curricle team, and with the five thousand from me he had enough.”
“You amaze me! But tell me. How does he plan to make improvements there? The place has been neglected for years.”
“I suppose he plans to do so slowly, as he is able.”
“Then it will take him a lifetime, for there will be numerous and continuous expenses.”
“He wanted the property desperately, Ned. I am sure he knows it will be hard.”
“Yes. I distinctly remember your use of the word desperate in describing your need for the money.”
“Would you have given it to me if I had told you why I wanted it?” she asked.
“Probably not. So, you see, you were right not to tell me.”
“Why did you give me the money, Ned?”
“I am not certain, but I suppose it was because I have a difficult time denying you anything.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I love you to distraction.”
“And can you tell me you do not love your brother?”
After a slight pause he said, “You know very well I cannot tell you that.”
“Then, please, Ned, ask him to explain. Do not let this estrangement drag on month after month, as it did with us.”
His brows drew together sharply. He walked away and stood with his back to her. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. “I am doing the same thing again, am I not?” he asked. “Judging without hearing the defense. It seems I cannot learn from my mistakes.”
“You have been repeatedly hurt by people you trusted,” she said. “It is not remarkable that you react so. You have stopped allowing yourself to trust your heart and will allow only a calculating brain to rule you. It is perhaps the safest way to live, but certainly not the most rewarding. In my case and in Oliver’s too, you reacted impulsively, refusing to listen to what your heart was telling you. You said once that you could not bring yourself to hate me as you had hated Arabella. That was because in your heart you knew I truly loved you, as you know Oliver does.”
He came across the room to her and took both her hands in his, raising them to his lips. “My clever wife. What did I ever do to deserve you?”
He took her into his arms then and held her close and she knew he had finally overcome his bitterness. She hoped he would see Oliver now and perhaps hear his explanation. If he could bring himself to do that much, she was convinced that the love they bore for each other would do the rest.
Two days later Rudley drove to London. He was gone three days, and when he arrived home again, he found that Katherine and Pamela had gone riding. He had Navigator saddled and rode out toward the footbridge in the woods. He had not been there since the day he had left Katherine, but now as he rode down to the stream, he found there were no memories of Arabella to haunt him. He splashed through the water without stopping and cantered up the far bank through a carpet of bluebells, then on through the woods to the west, to Weiring.
Rudley pulled his horse up at the edge of the trees as Oliver had done not so many weeks before. He had not been in the house for many years. It looked much the same as it always had from the outside, except that the lawns and garden had been permitted to grow wild. Shrubberies had gone untrimmed, and the ivy that clung to the stone walls had crept over the windows.
He drew a deep, resolute breath. What he was about to do would not be easy for him. He prayed for a portion of Katherine’s capacity for understanding as he trotted Navigator up to the house. He dismounted and tied his horse to the gatepost of the low stone fence. The door was opened by Charity.
“My lord Rudley! How good it is to see you.”
He smiled at her, realizing that despite all that had happened, her greeting was sincere. “Please, Charity, we must not be so formal. We are brother and sister now.”
“Yes, of course. Please, come in.”
They walked together to a salon on the ground floor before he asked, “Is Oliver here? If he is, I would like to speak with him.”
“Yes, he is here. If you will wait here, I will go and find him.”
He started to say she should not trouble herself and he would find Oliver, but she was already gone. So he waited, gazing about the familiar room. He walked to the handsome fireplace, crafted, like the house itself, from local stone. He could remember as a child sitting near the heat of a roaring fire while his grandmother read him fairy tales of dragons, brave princes, and damsels in distress. He had always thought the fireplace enormous; it did not seem so now. He picked up a curiously wrought gold-enameled snuffbox from the mantel, recognizing it as one his father had given Oliver years before. He still had it in his hand when the door opened behind him and Oliver entered.
Rudley turned and they stood facing each other, the entire width of the room between them. For several moments neither spoke, nor did either look away. Finally Rudley shifted his gaze to the snuffbox in his hand and he was the first to speak. “I have not seen this for years. It belonged to Grandfather, did it not?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“I am pleased that you should be established here, Oliver.”
“I had convinced myself that you would be most displeased.”
“Oliver, there is something I must say to you. I would like you to listen and when I have finished, I would like to hear your story concerning Arabella—the simple truth, all the truth, with no effort to spare my feelings. And when you have finished, regardless of what you tell me, I wish to bury the memory of Arabella and her influence over us forever. Do you agree?”
Oliver nodded his assent but did not speak. He went to pour brandy and brought his brother a glass.
Taking the brandy, Rudley moved to stand by the windows, allowing his gaze to roam over the park. His thoughts, however, were far from the prospect that presented itself. “All our lives, as you know, there has been a unique bond between us. We are brothers, yes, and I will admit the tie of blood is a strong one; but there was always something more, an inexplicable hold we had upon each other, a sensitivity only we shared. At each time of crisis in our lives, we were there for each other. When we were boys and you nearly drowned in the lake, I was there to pull you to safety; and in Spain you searched acres of dead and dying men to find me and keep me from bleeding to death. These things, and dozens of others, are all part of the trust and faith we have shared.”
Rudley turned to face his brother as he continued. “These past ten years I have had an unwavering regard for you and nothing but contempt for the man who fathered Pamela. When I learned you were that man, I could not reconcile the two feelings. In my eyes you were not worthy, had never been worthy, of the trust I had placed in you. So I struck back in the way I hoped would hurt you most—by breaking all ties between us. But in my heart I have always known, and Katherine has forced me to admit, that bonds so strong and binding are not so easily severed. I was wrong to strike you that day, and I apologize. I was even more wrong in thinking I could cut you from my life—for I cannot, nor do I wish to. Can you forgive me for treating you as I did?” He held out his hand to his brother and Oliver stepped forward willingly to take it in a firm clasp.
“I forgive you freely, as I hope you will forgive me when you have heard my part in all this.” Oliver crossed to an armchair by the fire, folded his long body into it, and propped his booted feet upon the footstool before him. He gently swirled the brandy in his glass. “I met Arabella almost four months before you did. I was just turned twenty, as you know, and my head was full of romantic folly. You remember what she was like: men ten deep around her, a face like an angel. I thought her incomparable, utterly adorable. We were in love, or so I thought at the time, and within a few weeks I had asked her to marry me and she had accepted.”
Rudley frowned at this, for of
all the things he had suspected, this had not been one of them.
Oliver continued. “Now you are thinking: If there was an engagement, why was it not announced? You may recall that Arabella’s father was out of the country at the time. We were both under age, and we had to wait until the duke returned in order to make proper application for his permission.
“We were spending a few days as guests of Lord and Lady Grafton when Arabella came to my bedchamber in the middle of the night. I should have sent her away immediately, but I was not so wise in those days, and I let her stay. We found a few similar opportunities during the next several weeks to be together.
“Then enter my brother, the dashing Earl of Rudley. I barely had time to be jealous of the way you looked at her when she told me she would have to end her engagement to me, for she planned to marry you instead. I don’t know whether you had already asked for her hand, but in any case she must have been very certain of you. I was, of course, stunned, and I asked how she could marry you if she loved me. She said she had misunderstood her feelings for me and although she was fond of me, it was you she loved. That was the only time in my life, Ned, that I was truly jealous of you. You, and your damned title, and your damned wealth. For even though she said it was not so, I knew those things had influenced her.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Rudley broke in. “If I had known the two of you had an understanding, I would never have interfered.’’
“By the time I realized what was happening it was already too late. When I had overcome my anger for you, and for her as well, you had already announced your engagement. Her vacillating feelings filled me with foreboding, but I knew if I spoke against her I would only sound like a bitter, rejected suitor. Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I thought that if you truly loved her and could bring out the best in her, the two of you would be happy together. Of course, at that time I had no idea how spoiled she was, how selfish and deceitful she could be. I thought her only young and fickle. I knew you so well, Ned. I could see you loved her beyond anything, and I thought that if she loved you as she said she did there would be no point in my standing in your way. So, I said nothing, a decision I tried to make in your best interest, and that I have regretted ever since.”