Chapter Five #2
Oliver probably felt the same. Glancing over, he saw his brother frowning.
There had been a time when they knew what the other was thinking, when they’d cowered together under bedcovers in the night for fear that their mother might come to rail them with her constant anger.
Aye, there had been a time when it was them against the world; the Moreland boys pitted against parents who were not coping with secrets that could never be allowed to escape.
Phillip remembered thinking as a boy that perhaps every family was damaged in ways that were opaque to outsiders, and that the pain lingering in his own was a normal occurrence. He had thought that until the boat trip on the lake, one grey afternoon at Elmsworth.
Then he’d known there were problems that neither he, nor his brother, nor his father could ever fix.
Space was the only thing that had calmed his anxiety, the space to be away from the others, the space he gained at boarding school, tucked into the dormitory with forty other boys and safe from things at home.
When Oliver had joined him at Eton, Phillip had shunned him largely, not wanting the fear relived or the secrets rehashed.
Oliver presumably had felt the same, and Gretel had cemented the distance between them, for, as an only child, she had felt no compunction to form alliances with what was left of his broken family.
And now…?
The bonds of adversity were after all not such easy things to cast away. Here Phillip knew that, despite their differences, the person who understood him the best was Oliver. He took in a deep breath as Miss Montague spoke again.
‘Mrs St Claire should take care with her opinions, though, for even a wealthy older widow can garner resentment for being so different.’
Her brother nodded, and for a second Phillip saw what he had not before: Wilhelmina St Claire was as much of an outsider here in Society as he felt, only she did not care.
She hurried into her life to catch up on all that she had missed in a way that was completely original, and used joy as a shield.
Lionel St Claire may have stolen ten years of her life but she was damned if anyone would steal the rest.
He remembered her words in the park, her humour and her irreverence. She was bound by no one and tempered only with freedom. That was her beauty and it was so much more forceful than the pallid prettiness of Arabella Montague.
When a servant appeared with a tray of tea and cakes Phillip was grateful.
The fare had brought other, lighter topics to the fore.
The inclement weather. The upcoming masquerade ball.
The projected plans outlining the improvements to the grand entrance at Hyde Park Corner.
Relaxing, he sat back to listen to the general conversation and debate, glad he was not pulled in to contribute to it.
After his brother and family departed the next morning Phillip spent the afternoon looking into the affairs of the Moreland investments. The portfolio he perused was a hefty and healthy one, for his father, although having many failings at the personal level, had always been an astute businessman.
It was almost five o’clock and the first shadows of the evening were beginning to strip the light from the room when a familiar voice echoed in the corridor outside his room and he stood.
His aunt Julia, complete with a large-brimmed hat, gloves and coat, was almost running towards him, a wide smile on her face.
‘Phillip. My goodness. I had heard that you were back in England but I could hardly believe it.’
She wrapped her arms around him, holding on tightly, the two servants in the passageway looking around in interest.
‘I might say the same of you. Oliver was sure you were in France until the end of summer, Julia.’
His aunt smiled. ‘I was supposed to be but I found myself getting a little lonely on the edge of the south coast despite all of the social occasions. I wanted to be home and so I found a passage, arriving yesterday. But look at you!’ She stood back a little.
‘You look healthy, my love, and happy, and I have heard you have even graced a few Society events in the past weeks.’
‘I can always count on you to be well informed of the latest gossip, Julia, even if you have only been back in England for a matter of hours.’
‘It pays to keep one’s eyes open in the melee that is Society, would you not say? But enough of all this. I want to tell you how sorry I was for the loss of your wife. I hope it was easy at the end for you both.’
‘Death is seldom easy in any form and I do recall that you and Gretel never truly got on.’
‘We were not enemies, Phillip, but then again, unfortunately, we were not friends either. It is just that your wife was a woman who found it hard to share you with anyone.’
‘You are saying she was too insular?’
‘No, I don’t think I am quite saying that.
I think I mean that she would have been happier had she allowed others to know her.
Your mother held that same habit of drawing in.
As her sister I always felt Miranda was distant and people who shy away from social gatherings are often lonely even without recognising it. ’
‘You sound like Oliver. He told me the same thing when I went to see him at Nettleford Park.’
‘That is because he is bathing in the glowing happiness of a perfect match.’
Phillip expected this sentiment from his aunt but today he just did not want to hear it, though as he turned away Julia stopped him.
‘I do not mean to undermine Gretel, Phillip, for I know how much you loved her and I wish she had not been sick. Oh, how I wish it. But here is your chance, now, to find a partner who might allow you a new life. God knows every young girl in Society and their mothers must have you in their sights.’
‘I don’t want another marriage.’
‘Yet Elmsworth needs heirs.’
‘Which Oliver has provided.’
Her smile was sad. ‘Your father would be turning in his grave if he could hear that.’
‘He loved you, Julia.’ It was a relief to change the subject even as his aunt turned a bright red. ‘Once he told me he wished he had asked you to marry him instead of Miranda.’
‘Your mother was not an easy woman, but she was fearful, and no matter what she did to try and get herself better she just could not.’
‘She tried to kill us. Twice.’ He heard the tremble in his words.
‘Oliver told me the same thing and it is a large burden for any son to carry, but she was sick, Phillip, sicker than any of us realised.’
‘I tried to save her before she drowned in the lake, but the water was too cold.’
‘And you were ill for months after. We thought you would be lost too.’
‘I don’t remember that.’
‘You were the one who always tried to glue your family together, Phillip, despite great odds. Oliver gave up years before you did. He simply let everyone go.’
‘I’d forgotten how forthright you always are, Aunt Julia.’
‘I just want to see you happy. You deserve to be at least that after all you have been through.’
‘Happiness holds many shades.’
‘I understand that better than you know. When your father told me that he would never leave Miranda I thought I might die of sorrow. But as you can well see I did not and life crept in despite my wishing that it wouldn’t and my world came back into a shape that was manageable.’
This was a different answer than he might have expected and a useful one. ‘What was it that helped you do this?’
‘People. I got out and I let people in. I decided that I was too young to simply give up and that in every conversation I would find something to help me. Surprisingly I did. I took a risk and a chance and it paid off and after some months I could barely recognise the woman I had been.’ She stopped and smiled at him.
‘Actually I have been asked to the fiftieth birthday of Esther’s aunt next week and it is a masquerade ball.
It is sometimes easier to be a new version of yourself when one is disguised, and besides, you can so easily slip away if you do not find it enjoyable. ’
The vein of his aunt’s words was so similar to that which Wilhelmina had pursued he had to smile.
‘I hope you will stay for a drink and a light supper and tell me all about your travels on the Continent.’