Chapter 28
Ethan was indignant about Lochranza leaving, but agreed that if she was that determined, he would get in touch with O’Neill.
‘Visit Jamaica. And after that decide on the course of your life.’ He assessed it would be two weeks before O’Neill arrived.
‘I would appreciate you taking my arm at various local social gatherings. Hardly comparable with London, but…’
‘I need something to occupy myself.’
The gentlemen of Virginia treated her with the utmost courtesy, though she could tell from their veiled expressions that her colourful beauty was much appreciated.
At first, the Virginian ladies had bubbled over with joy at the fact that this titian-haired titled lady had deigned to accept their invitations. Their gushing enthusiasm ceased once they found out that she was residing in the same house as her fiancé prior to marriage.
Mrs Gertrude Maxwell, wife of one Grenville Maxwell, a senator and banker of great wealth and influence, took it upon herself to voice the unanimous concern of the Richmond belles.
‘A bride and her fiancé should not be residing under the same roof before their wedding.’
The other ladies nodded their heads vigorously, their fans fluttering like the wings of trapped pigeons as though they would faint from shock at any moment.
Lady Lochranza Kildare was charming but firm in her response. ‘Our wedding was postponed due to unforeseen circumstances. There are a few matters outstanding that need to be resolved before we tie the knot.’
She did not elaborate on what those circumstances were. They would know nothing of her history.
Gossip travelled like the wind through the slave quarters as well as through the white community, a slave from one plantation passing on the more titillating news of what had been going on in their neck of the woods. The news that Venus had eloped was sure to filter from the lowest to the highest.
It proved difficult to get them off the subject of her living under the same roof as her intended. Smiling at them politely, Lochranza asked, as innocently as you like, ‘Where else do you suggest I reside?’
‘With a maiden aunt!’
The lady espousing this particular remedy looked to be in her seventies, her hair as fine as a dandelion head, her small face having a timid look.
‘I don’t have one.’
‘It would be acceptable if you had a woman of a certain age living with you, a bastion between an innocent young woman and the bestial appetites of a virile young man – not that I’m saying Mr MacKinnon is a beast, of course – him being a lord and all that.’
It amused her that Ethan insisted that he was an ordinary man in America. Titles belonged to the old country.
Lochranza explained. ‘I do have Mrs Moira Mackintosh, my professional companion. Will she do?’
There followed a communal inrush of breath.
The lady with the dandelion coiffeur raised her tinny voice. ‘I think you should live with one of us until your wedding day. When is it, did you say?’
‘As soon as is convenient. Ethan and I have yet to formally agree a date.’
She did not mention that she was travelling to Jamaica first. They’d be outraged if she did.
It was for the best that she avoided them in future.
Her business was her business and their attitude differed little from that back in England.
If a woman’s reputation was to be protected, formalities must be observed.
Ethan was opposed to her travelling to Jamaica, and it was difficult to explain why she must. Basically, it was a family matter, and also part of her past, a bad dream she needed to put to rest.
No matter how she put it, Ethan objected.
She offered a compromise. ‘You can come with me. If you really wanted to.’
He did not.
‘I fail to see what will be gained from you going there.’
‘No. Of course not,’ she said, resolutely. Her eyes had blazed. ‘What happened there when I was a child is still with me. Somehow, some way, I have to put it to rest. Face my half siblings and place flowers on the grave of the woman who raised me. Is that too difficult to understand.’
‘I do have some business to attend to, that and getting the crop in.’
Time ticked on by.
Sometimes their anger turned into a violent passion between them, a need within that neither of them could resist. She would go along to his bedroom, or he would come to hers.
It didn’t matter. The outcome was always the same; no matter how cold they were with each other, their needs took hold of them. The coldness returned once it was over.
The days dragged on.
It was after such an episode that she suggested not bothering with a wedding ceremony. ‘It’s a bit like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted.’
Ethan was initially understanding before he set out what she had to admit was true.
‘My dear, one has to think of our reputation – and the offspring of our union. So far, we’ve been lucky.’ He turned to face her suddenly. ‘Unless there’s something you’re not telling me!’ Hope surged in his eyes.
She eyed him derisively. ‘Thank God, I’ve nothing to report!’
She could see the sharpness of her retort had hurt him but didn’t care.
She had waited too long. O’Neill had not put in an appearance.
She was beginning to think he hadn’t sent for him at all, that everything was just a ploy to keep her here until the day they married.
What he expected after that, she wasn’t sure.
Perhaps he thought she would forget the idea and settle down to a routine lifestyle on the plantation, with occasional forays into Richmond to attend balls, house parties, concerts and afternoon soirées.
That was not the life she foresaw for herself, not until she had satisfied her curiosity about Jamaica and the family still living there.
In the silence after their urgent intimacy and not for the first time, it occurred to her that a fertile woman would have been celebrating a happy event by now.
It crossed her mind that Ethan was also considering that.
Her suspicion was confirmed when he said, ‘I never thought I would ever say this, but a man does need to leave a child behind to inherit, pick up the pieces and improve on what he’s been left. I never considered that before.’
It was almost a pointed accusation, something he’d cradled for a while and was finally spouting it out.
Lochranza stiffened. It was possible that she had not conceived because she couldn’t. It could just as likely be Ethan’s fault.
Deciding this was not the time to go deeper into the subject, she rolled over on her side and closed her eyes.
Sleep was slow in coming. Somehow she felt a milestone had been reached in their relationship and she wasn’t sure what would happen next.
‘I didn’t mean…’ he began as he reached for his dressing gown.
‘No,’ she said bitterly. ‘You didn’t.’
* * *
The next time they were invited to a Richmond social event, she made the excuse that she had a headache. The women of Richmond were no different than the ones back in England. Status and gaining a fiancé was everything. So were the social proprieties. She couldn’t stand it.
It came as something of a surprise when Ethan told her he was going anyway.
‘Without me?’
‘What do you expect me to do, hold a wet cloth to your forehead? You’ve got Helen to do that.’
He did kiss her on the head before leaving from which she interpreted that he would not be gone long.
He didn’t come back until gone midnight, smelling of strong drink and a hint of perfume. Cheap perfume.
‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ She tried not to sound accusing.
‘Hmm,’ he said once he was undressed and tumbling into bed. ‘I did.’
‘Why don’t you go to your own bed? What are you doing here?’
‘I thought I might make love to you.’
‘You most certainly will not!’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed.
‘My love…’ he slurred, one hand reaching out for her, then flopping onto the bedclothes.
‘You stink of drink and cheap perfume.’
‘Do I?’
Lochranza folded her arms beneath her breasts, seething that he had come to her bed in such a diabolical state.
So much for the Richmond social event! She’d heard rumours of gentlemen’s clubs where drinking and gambling were the order of the day.
Plus loose women. Not ladies. Ladies did not go to gambling clubs unless they harboured that particular affliction.
Once they did, their reputations were void and they were on the slippery slope to being a mistress – a kept woman.
Was Ethan contemplating keeping a mistress? Her jealousy returned.
‘Did you dance with the young ladies there?’
‘A few, though I can’t recall who they were. Anyway, I won at cards.’
She half turned to face him. ‘Ah! Cards. Are you admitting that you went to a gambling club, not this social event you mentioned?’
‘I attended a house party at Mrs Templeton’s first.’
‘Indeed!’ Lochranza was indignant. ‘Surely Mrs Templeton didn’t have a card game going on at her house!’ Mrs Templeton was a widow who looked daggers at Lochranza but almost swooned when Ethan came into the room.
‘No. I went to the gambling club afterwards.’
That was it. That was all he said before falling into a drunken sleep and snoring loud enough to wake the saints.
In the morning, he showed no sign of being contrite and was as neatly dressed as he always was, a yellow cravat at his throat, his beige britches spotless, his riding boots polished to within an inch of their life.
He went out gambling again the next night and the one after that. She asked him why the sudden interest. It had never interested him before.
His response startled her. ‘You are not my wife yet, madam! I will do as I please!’
She sat immobile in the parlour, hearing the sound of his horse trotting off down the drive. She’d heard there were a few gambling dens in Richmond, those catering for gentlemen of social status said to vie with the palace of Versailles when it came to chandeliers and splendid furnishings.