17 Flying #2
“I have talked to Garford,” he began. “I imagined… I hoped to discover that the foul rumours were mistaken, that you had not fallen so low… but he confirmed the dreadful truth. Mother, I hardly know what to say to you.”
“Then say nothing,” she said. “Indeed, it is quite unnecessary, dear. I have behaved outrageously, I know. Taking to the bed of a man not my husband — naturally you are shocked beyond measure, I understand that. So it is not at all needful for you to say a word of reproach. Let us assume you have expressed your displeasure and leave it at that.”
“Are you out of your mind?” he spluttered.
“No, I do not think so,” she said calmly.
“Not like Mrs Clarkson — do you remember her? She used to rend her clothes and wander about the house with her hair half down, muttering to herself. Poor Mr Clarkson had to lock her in the attic whenever anyone called. I am not quite at that point, I hope. Are you going to lock me in the attic?”
“No, of course not! Mother, why do you laugh? Is this amusing to you?”
“I confess that you are a trifle amusing, Richard. You always were a serious little boy, frowning over your Latin grammar, and here you are strutting about like an irate turkey cock, your chest thrust out. I cannot help but laugh. But I am sure it will impress the peasants when you are duke. May I go now? It is almost the dressing hour.”
“No, you may not! Really, Mother, what are you thinking? How can you so sully my father’s name in this way?”
Cora sighed. “Richard, I was very fond of your father. He was a good man… a good father who took excellent care of his family. We wanted for nothing. But he has been dead for more than a decade, and there is no law that says I must never look at another man.”
“A suitable man, perhaps, but not a man like that!”
“A man like what, precisely?” Cora said icily, a sudden rage rising in her chest. It was one thing for Richard to berate her, but she would not let him insult Cal.
“A common labourer,” Richard said disdainfully, “and one moreover who has ambition to rise from his ill-bred roots. He is ashamed of his father, you know.”
“Is he?” Cora said, startled. “What makes you think so?”
“He never talks about him. His father was gamekeeper on the Garth estate, but you would not know it from Garford. He is nothing but an under-gardener, but he tries to pretend he has some special talent with trees. It makes him feel important, I suppose. And as for his much-vaunted skill with Latin and Greek, having a few books does not make a man an intellectual.”
“True enough,” Cora murmured, amused again. “You never got on terribly well with Latin, did you, despite all Dr Ingleton’s efforts?”
“That is nothing to the point!”
“Then by all means get to the point, dear, and we can both go off and dress for dinner.”
Richard huffed a little, as if he wanted to say a great deal more if only he could think of it, but he had never had much imagination, so now he tamely surrendered.
“You are to have nothing to do with this man, do you understand? This vice must end forthwith, and if you can prove to me that you can behave with the decorum expected of the mother of a future duke, then we shall say no more of this deplorable episode. Is that clear?”
“Perfectly clear.”
“Very well then. I am glad we understand each other. One does not like to be at odds with one’s mother.”
“It must be very disagreeable for you, but you bear it nobly,” she said, struggling not to laugh at his pomposity.
“I believe I do,” he said, throwing out his chest a little. “It has always been my policy to display the utmost forbearance when another man might be a great deal less tolerant. Good heavens, is that the time?” he cried, as the clock in the hall struck the hour. “We must make haste.”
And with that, he whisked out of the room, leaving Cora to give vent to the laughter she had been ruthlessly suppressing.
***
Cal was unbearably restless after Richard had left him. It was over, his glorious dalliance with Cora was over and there was nothing to look forward to in his miserable existence except the long, slow decline into old age, illness and the blessed release of death.
No, that was far too dismal. He brought out his Bible and ruthlessly read aloud several passages chosen at random.
Thus fortified, he returned to making his soup, which would not now be ready for his dinner but would be perfect for tomorrow.
Then he fetched a chicken from the meat safe and set about cooking that with herbs and garlic and a few beans.
Some flatbread from the griddle completed the meal, with a few wild strawberries for dessert.
Then he refilled his pot with ale, reached a book from the shelf and stretched himself on the sofa — Cora’s sofa, as he thought of it, since she always sat there whenever the weather drove them indoors.
And there he lay, the book unopened on his lap.
He could not read. Misery overwhelmed him, and he could have wept. How could he go on without her?
He was so sunk in gloom that he never even thought of taking his usual post at the bench outside to watch for her. What was the point? She was not coming.
So he had no warning until the latch rattled, the door opened and there she was.
He gave a cry of joy and tore across the room to scoop her into his arms for a long, impassioned kiss.
“Goodness!” she said breathlessly, as they finally parted sometime later. “Oh Cal! Are you crying?”
“No… maybe… I was terrified you wouldn’t come. Richard was here…” He was shaking from head to toe, but somehow even her presence could not bring him to calmness tonight.
“There is no need to take any notice of anything Richard says. I never have. He is all bluster, that one. I remember him when he was a tiny boy, and the most unpromising specimen, so I cannot take him seriously now. Oh, my dear, I shall not let Richard keep us apart, I promise you.”
She reached up to kiss him again, and for a while he was comforted. But the terror could not entirely be quashed.
“Cora, aren’t you afraid?”
“Of Richard? Not at all.”
“You should be. He has so much power over us.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I have my own money, so I am independent of him.”
“He says your money comes through him,” Cal said.
“Oh, in practice, yes, but he cannot withhold it. The amount of my jointure was agreed in my marriage settlement and set down in Roland’s will, so the lawyers would have something to say if he tried to stop it.
There is enough to survive on, with care, so there is no need to worry.
You will not need to dip into your little nest egg to support me. ”
He did not pursue the point, for money was the least of their worries. It was not the question that troubled him most, nor was he much concerned with what Richard might do next. He had already made provision for that.
What cast the darkest shadow over his life was the one thing about which he could do nothing.
“Cora, doesn’t it terrify you, this… this intensity? This feeling that everything is overwhelming, and nothing matters but us… you and me?”
She pulled back from him a little. “Is it… too much? Do I disrupt your life more than you want?”
“No! I welcome it, but… it scares me, too. Aren’t you afraid, Cora?”
“Oh no,” she said smiling up at him. “I feel alive for the first time in my life, Cal. And I can fly! It is the most amazing feeling.”
“Fly? Like a butterfly?”
“No, no, for they stay close to the ground. No, I am away up in the skies, like… oh, like an eagle, perhaps. Everything below is small and far away… Richard and the girls, Staineybank, the grandchildren, none of that matters. I can barely see them any more. There is only you, Cal. You are not just the centre of my world but the whole of it. You are everything… this love that I feel is everything. Nothing else is of the remotest importance.”
Cal kissed her and held her and stroked her hair, but inside he trembled with fear for her. Today she might feel that she was soaring amongst the clouds but tomorrow, or the day after, very soon, she would come crashing to earth, and Cal could not save her.