Chapter Sixteen
“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.” – Frankenstein, Mary Shelley
One of the benefits of being a wedded woman, it seemed, was inviting one’s friends over for tea without having to consult one’s mama.
Ursula intended to enjoy this benefit to the full.
She and Charlotte sat on a wide, plush sofa in the big parlour the nicest room in the house, in Ursula’s opinion and sipped tea. Georgie wandered around the room, peering up at the moulding of the ceiling.
“Your house is beautiful, at least,” Charlotte said at last. “You don’t look unhappy.”
“I’m not,” Ursula admitted. She had no intention of telling Charlotte about what had transpired between her and Graham, although really she could think of little else.
“Although I had just received a message from my dear husband informing me that his mother will be staying with us for a short while.”
Charlotte replaced her cup on the saucer with a loud rattle.
“Good gracious, Ursula, surely you jest?”
“If only that were true?” Ursula muttered. “No, apparently some repairs must be done to her house, and of course she must stay here. I am not pleased, but I suppose there’s nothing that can be done.”
“Well, take care, that’s all.”
Ursula’s skin prickled, and she threw a glance at her cousin. “What was that, Georgie?”
Was it her imagination, or did Charlotte throw a warning glance at Georgie? It didn’t matter, because her cousin did not seem to notice.
Georgie widened her eyes innocently. “Oh, you must have heard about the previous viscount’s first wife.”
“Georgie,” Charlotte warned aloud. “That’s enough.”
“No, Charlotte, I want to hear. What are you talking about, Georgie?”
Georgie pursed her lips, pausing with just enough hesitation. At last she sighed, scurrying over to sit between Charlotte and Ursula on the sofa.
“I didn’t mean to tell you, but I did believe that you already knew. Well, no matter, you would find out anyway. The Dowager Lady Sinclair is not Lord Sinclair’s true mother.”
Ursula’s eyes bulged. “What? She is his stepmother? But he treats her as if she was his own mother.”
Georgie shrugged. “Yes, well, she is the only mother he has ever known. The thing is, the old Lord Sinclair was quite a vile man. A real beast, Mama told me once. He had wedded a rich woman for convenience, and took all of her money for himself, as men generally do. They did not like each other, and their matrimony was atrocious. As you are very well aware that in society a matrimony which is not so well is thoroughly commented upon. I know dozens of couples who dislike each other, but they are not described as having a bad matrimony.”
“I am not sure that this is helpful, Georgie,” Charlotte said tightly, gripping her teacup a fraction too tightly. “That’s quite enough.”
“No, go on, please,” Ursula begged. “Tell me more.”
Georgie sniffed. “Well, the first Lady Sinclair made no secret of her hatred for her husband. She fell pregnant, of course, and gave birth to a boy.”
Graham, Ursula thought, heart pounding. “What happened next?”
Georgie leaned forward; eyes alight.
She is enjoying this, Ursula thought.
“She took the baby and fled,” Georgie breathed.
“Can you imagine? Well, Lord Sinclair trawled the country for her and eventually found her. He took the baby from her and had her thrown into an asylum a fairly nasty one, from what I have heard. She died less than a year later, and there were hints that Lord Sinclair had had her…”
“Enough, Georgie,” Charlotte interrupted sharply. “This is hearsay and nothing more.”
“No, it isn’t. Lady Sinclair the first one, that is really did take her baby and run.
Lord Sinclair did find her, and threw her in asylum, where she left her final dying breath.
That part is all true. He had wedded the current Dowager Lady Sinclair only a few months later.
Quite scandalously soon, and they had a horrid matrimony, as well. ”
“What an awful man,” Ursula breathed, leaning back in her seat.
Georgie sniffed. “Well, the first Lady Sinclair shouldn’t have taken the baby, should she? It was all her fault.”
“She must have been at her wit’s end, with nowhere else to go,” Ursula murmured, frowning. In her mind’s eye, she could see a young woman, wearing a fine silk dress hidden by a black cloak, running across a wind-swept field with a baby in her arms.
She must have been terrified.
“Well, that’s the story,” Georgie shrugged, jumping to her feet again. “I shouldn’t worry if I were you. The old Lord Sinclair is deceased, and I’m sure your husband is entirely different.”
“He is different,” Ursula said firmly. “He could not be more different.”
“There you are, then,” Georgie responded with a wry smile. “You’re terribly lucky, Ursula. Everybody knows that. You always land on your feet, like a cat.”
Ursula offered a faint, wry smile. Her heart thudded in her chest.
What sort of upbringing has Graham had? Is there a reason he holds me at arm’s length? What cruelties has he endured? What shocking things has he been exposed to?
Is he his father’s son?
Suddenly there was a distant bang somewhere in the house, making all three of them flinch. A moment later, Margaret’s voice came drifting through the halls, giving imperious orders. Setting her teacup aside, Ursula rose and went over to the window.
Below was a fashionable carriage, covered in boxes and suitcases which footmen were laboriously carrying inside. Margaret appeared, briefly lecturing and scolding the footmen on how to correctly carry boxes, and then disappeared inside once more.
Ursula bit her lower lip, hard.
“Good gracious me!” Georgie remarked, appearing at Ursula’s shoulder. “I don’t envy you at all, after a week or two with her. I imagine she’ll stay longer than that, if she can.”
“If she stays too long, I’ll simply ask her to leave,” Ursula responded firmly.
“Hm. And what if she says no? You cannot force her out of doors. She’ll apply to Lord Sinclair.”
“Then I shall ask him to send her away.”
Georgie sighed theatrically, leaning against the window.
“Well, I suppose you shall just have to hope that Lord Sinclair sides with you, then, and not the woman who raised him. The thing about a woman and this is most distressing is that you only really have the power your husband gives you. Isn’t that so, Charlotte?”
“I believe you have a rather dismal way of looking at things,” Charlotte responded coldly. “Come, Ursula, sit down again. Let’s talk of something more pleasant.”
Ursula turned to join her friend, but the instant before she turned away, she watched a quick, secret smile flash over Georgie’s face.
***
Graham, she had been reliably informed, was in the library. Outside, the sun was setting, and the few wax candles threw little light. Ursula blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the gloom. She tapped on the library door out of habit, waiting for a response.
“Who is it?”
“Only me,” she responded, cracking open the door.
Graham sat in a high-backed armchair by the window, reading a book. He set it aside as soon as she entered but did not rise to his feet.
“You don’t have to knock before entering a room, you know,” he said, sounding amused. “Not in your own house.”
She gave a tight smile. “I know. I daresay I’ll get used to it. I wanted to speak with you, Graham.”
His expression stiffened. “I see. Well, you’d best sit down. Shall I call for more light?”
“No, thank you, this is sufficient.”
She crossed to another armchair set opposite his and settled herself down gingerly. There was a faintly anxious look on Graham’s face.
He assumes I have come to discuss the events of last night, Ursula thought with a pang. Which is a sure indication that he does not want to discuss them.
She cleared her throat, offering a faint smile. I had hoped to talk to you about a rumour which my cousin mentioned to me.”
“A rumour?”
“It’s not an accusation. It is something about your past which I wished to clarify with you. I believe it will… will help me understand you better.”
Graham bit his lower lip, glancing away. Carefully, he marked his place in his book and set it aside. “Ah. I believe I know what you are about to say.”
“It is regarding your birth mother. The first Lady Sinclair.”
Graham nodded slowly. “Yes. I imagine you’ve heard the story, then. My father’s first wife, my birth, my mother’s subsequent escape and recapture, and her confinement in an asylum before her premature death.”
Ursula flinched. The story sounded remarkably sordid, laid out so callously. “Yes, that is what I heard. I… I was told that he waited only three months before entering into matrimony again.”
Graham gave a hoarse, mirthless laugh. “You are misinformed.”
“He waited longer?”
“No, he waited only one month. My father was an awful man, Ursula. I spent little time with him, spending most of my life at school or with the woman I came to call Mother. It never occurred to me to think of her as anything else. My mother Lady Margaret Sinclair raised me. She cared for me then and still cares for me now. She… She means the world to me. I’m sure you can imagine that with a man like my father she did not lead a very happy life. ”
“No, no, I suppose not.” Ursula bit her lip, glancing away. “I am sorry, Graham, I did not mean to pry.
“You aren’t prying. I suppose you ought to have learned this from my lips, not from hearsay.”
On impulse, Ursula reached out, taking his hand.
“I only want to know that you are not the kind of man that your father was. It… It is difficult for women, you know. We rely on our fathers and husbands, or even brothers or other male relatives. Our freedom is relative, and our lives often hang in the balance. I barely knew you before our matrimony, Graham, and I want to know that I can be safe with you.”
His grip on her hand tightened, but not unpleasantly so. He leaned forward until their noses were only inches apart.
“I understand,” Graham said softly. “As a child, I watched my mother, Margaret that is, suffer under my father’s thumb.
He threatened her with the asylum more often than you can imagine.
He was… he was a vile man. I promised myself that I would not become like him.
My greatest fear is to discover his traits in myself.
I will work at being the best husband I can be, Ursula. ”
She held his gaze, searching for truth in his eyes. She found it. After a moment, he continued.
“As for my mother,” he paused, wincing. “She can be… difficult. I imagine you are of the opinion that I am too lenient, that I am tied to my mother’s apron-strings.”
“Goodness, Graham, I think no such thing.”
He gave a wry smile. “Well, others do. The plain fact is that I believe my mother deserves a little kindness after what she has been through. I do not intend to order her about. Her life has never been her own. She was eager to wed my father, but only because her parents filled her head with the idea of a grand matrimony. She believed it would make her happy. It did not. So, I want to keep my mother safe. I want to keep her happy. And while she has not been kind to you, I would take it as a very great favour to myself if you would at least be kind to her, Ursula. Please.”
Ursula was silent for a moment, thinking. She had fully intended to enter the library and ask for Margaret to be housed elsewhere or at least made to leave within a day or two. But with Graham staring at her with wide, pleading eyes, she found that she could not say what she had planned.
“I understand,” she said at last. “I should be more considerate towards her.”
Graham’s eyes brightened. “Thank you, Ursula. You are really a Diamond, aren’t you?”
She gave a faint smile and rose to her feet. The movement brought her closer to Graham than she had intended, and he did not release her hand. Instead, he tilted his head back, staring up at her. Ursula found herself caught in his eyes, grey as a stormy day.
“Thank you,” he whispered softly. “I do not deserve you, Ursula.”
Slowly, ever so slowly, Ursula lifted her hands to his face, cupping his jaw. She stepped closer, drawn as if by magnetism, and he looped his arms around her waist. Some sort of dam broke inside her, and she lunged down to kiss him.
His lips met hers, rough and unsteady, and he wound his arms tighter around her.
Ursula found herself pulled off her feet, forward into his lap.
To steady herself, she grabbed at his shoulders her knees straddling his thighs.
The kiss grew desperate, and Graham’s hand flattened itself out on the small of her back, pressing her towards him.
Heat built up inside her, that familiar aching sensation she had felt before. They broke apart to breathe, and Graham tilted his head to kiss the side of her throat, sending prickles of pleasure down her spine. Closing her eyes, Ursula let herself melt into the sensation.
Perhaps this time they could have a more reciprocal session. Perhaps she could touch Graham the way he had touched her. She had no idea how to do it, of course, but if he could show her…
The library door flew open with a resounding crash. Ursula gave a muted scream and flew backwards off Graham’s lap, nearly tripping over her own feet as she did so. Graham was on his feet in an instant, red-faced and rumpled.
“Mother!” he gasped.
Margaret stood in the doorway, the very picture of outraged virtue.
“Graham! Ursula! What in heaven’s name do you think you are doing?” she snapped, eyes blazing.
Whatever we like in our own house, Ursula was about to shout back but recalled Graham’s plea to be kind to his mother, and kept her mouth closed.
“Mother, you simply cannot speak to me that way,” Graham spoke up, his jaw tight. “Our intimate businesses are our own, you are fully aware of that.”
Margaret sniffed. “Yes, well, that business should be confined to your rooms, not the library in broad daylight.”
“It’s hardly daylight. It is nearly suppertime,” Ursula murmured, and earned herself a sharp look from her mother-in-law.
Margaret eyed her coldly. “Hm. Well, I came to ask Ursula if she would like to play a hand of cards with me, but after this scene I may retire to my room with a headache.”
Very well, Ursula wanted to shout. Do as you wish.
Instead, she clenched her jaw and forced a smile, ignoring the aching throb of desire in her chest.
“That sounds lovely, Margaret. I should like very much to play cards with you.”