Lament for a lost lover

Charlotte said: “There’s the old nursery.”

“I daresay my Cousin Arabella will want the baby near her just at first.”

“Indeed I do.”

“And the nurseries are at the very top of the house. Nothing is prepared up there.”

I said: “I’ll take the room I occupied before. There was one right next to it ...” I stopped. There would be memories in that room of the nights I had spent there with Edwin, and the next room was that which had been occupied by Harriet. I wished she were with me. She would laugh at Carleton. She would make me see everything differently. I knew she was an adventuress. Hadn’t she told me often enough? She had taken Charlotte’s lover; she had had a child and abandoned him; she had lied, with such facility that one never knew whether or not she was speaking the truth; but I was fond of her. And I missed her.

Of course it would have been impossible for her to have been here. Charlotte would never have endured that. In going away she had done the right thing, I supposed. I would look after Leigh. He should be with Edwin in the nursery. But how I wished she were here!

There was the room I had shared with Edwin, but how different it was! There was a beautiful tapestry on the wall and it contained some elegant pieces of furniture. These things would have been hidden at the time I stayed here, but how they transformed the room! I could not look at the four-poster bed without emotion, but even that looked different with its silk curtains.

I went into Harriet’s room where the babies were to be. My young brothers and sister were very silent, overcome with awe, I believed, by everything that was happening to them.

Charlotte seemed to have taken a fancy to them and I was glad, for they liked her and she said she would find a suitable room for them. She remembered so much of her old home, she said. It was all coming back to her.

I wondered how she would feel about the presence of Leigh. How did a woman feel about her lover’s child by another woman? Charlotte, however, gave no sign of disliking him. I was sure she was much too sensible to blame the child. I was beginning to like my sister-in-law, and I hoped very much that we should be friends, but no one could, of course, take Harriet’s place.

My parents would be leaving early the following morning, but as my mother told me more than once, we should all be in England now and we should see a great deal of each other.

Alone in my room, I washed the grime of the journey from my face and changed my travelling clothes for a gown of blue velvet which was somewhat the worse for wear. We had made our own clothes in Congreve and I wondered what they would look like now we were home. In Congreve it had not mattered what we wore, but I remembered vividly how bemused we were by the elaborate gowns which Harriet had worn and which looked so splendid by candlelight.

Nobody would want to dress like a Puritan now. Would it henceforth be as dangerous to do so as it was before to wear laces and ribbons?

My mother came into my room. She looked at me rather tremulously and said: “I keep thinking that you are my little girl, but of course you are grown up now.”

“A widow and a mother,” I reminded.

“Dearest Arabella, you are going to be happy here. I know it.”

“I shall try, Mother.”

“Matilda is a good woman. I know she talks a great deal and seems superficial at times, but she really is not so. She loves you.

Small wonder. You have eased her tragedy. She can be happy again in you and the boy. I know that Lord Eversleigh is grateful to you. They have said you are now their daughter and they will do anything for your happiness.”

“I know, Mother.”

“And Charlotte? She does not make friends easily but I think she likes you too.”

“Yes, I think she does, Mother.”

“There is the cousin.”

“Carleton?” I said sharply.

“I don’t quite know what to make of him. He was wonderful during the years. He was our most reliable agent in the country. Much of the success of all that is happening is due to him. He sent us information regularly. And yet ...”

“You don’t like him, Mother?”

“I can’t say that. I don’t know him. I fancy few do and that it would take a long time. Of course he has believed himself to be the heir to all this ... which he would have been but for Edwin. I wonder how he feels about that? He gives no sign, does he?”

“Would you expect him to?”

“No, but I should expect to be able to judge what he is feeling from his conduct.”

“Oh, Mother, you want to be a seer. I agree with you. I don’t like him. But I shall not allow him to bother me.”

She nodded. “You will be able to take care of yourself, I don’t doubt. Never forget we shall not be far away. Both your father and I are happy to leave you in good hands. You have had some experience of life.” She frowned slightly. “I am a little anxious about Harriet Main’s child.”

“Oh, Mother, he is but a baby ... an adorable baby.”