22 Departures And Arrivals #3
“I will, I will. Pretty little place you have here, Cora. I imagine it was in rather a state at first, standing empty for so long, but you have made it very comfortable.”
“May I offer you a glass of something?” Cal said.
“Is that claret? I will take a glass, thank you. Oh… this is rather a good one. We have one similar in our cellars.”
“This came from the vintner in Brinchester.”
“Phelps is a good man. He supplies everything we need. Well, Cora, this is a tricky situation, is it not?”
“Is it, your grace?”
“Of course, but it is not an insuperable problem, despite that son of yours putting his oar in and making things a great deal worse.” He chuckled.
“Ah, these young men! So impetuous, when a little care could have seen the matter resolved without the least trouble. And you would not have Beckwith, although it would have been a good match for you — a very good match! You could hardly expect to do better. But you chose to be contrary, and so everything is just as it was. It is all most unsatisfactory. Still, I am here now, so I am sure that after we have talked, I shall be able to take a favourable report back to my dear Lily. She has been most distressed, you know, and I will tell you at once that I do not allow anyone to distress my wife.”
Cora had nothing to say to such a speech.
Was she to adapt her life — her present extremely agreeable life — because Lily was distressed?
She had set herself free from such worldly considerations as other people’s opinions.
So she sat calmly on the sofa, waiting for the duke to say whatever he had come to say and then go away again.
Cal was calm, too, standing, arms folded, by the window, watching the duke expressionlessly.
“It is a pity I was not here when the situation arose,” the duke went on. “Richard could not know… well, I understand his thinking, but banning you from Staineybank, Garford, is not the answer. I want you back there, understand?”
“That ship has sailed, your grace,” Cal said.
“No, no. It is not irrevocable, I assure you. I care nothing about the woods — do what you will, there — but I must have you at Staineybank.”
“I don’t see how it can be done, your grace. What of Cora? You can’t expect me to abandon her, and she can hardly return there under the present circumstances.”
“Of course not! You must be married, that is all there is to it. I shall talk to Templeton about calling the banns and—”
“No!” Cora and Cal spoke simultaneously, but her voice was the more forceful. “Your grace, we are content with our situation.”
“My dear, how can you be?” he said gently.
“A woman of your sensibilities, cast adrift from all that you have ever known — no, you must want to be properly settled, and not living in this shameless way. Poor Beckwith tried to rescue you, but you stayed loyal to Garford, so you shall marry him instead. No, no!” he cried, holding up an imperious hand to forestall her objections.
“It is not so unequal a match as you might suppose. Let me tell you a little secret, Cora. This man here is not a mere gardener — he is a Garth of Lampton Priory, and quite unexceptional a husband for you. With a little smartening up, we can turn him into a most convincing gentleman. And if the question of money troubles you, for Richard tells me you will lose your jointure if you marry, why, I shall see that you have enough to live upon, never fear.”
And he beamed at her, for all the world like a man offering a special treat and expecting to be thanked.
Cora was too angry to sit any longer, springing to her feet to pace agitatedly about the room. The duke, more polite than the marquess, rose also, watching her with a perplexed frown on his face.
“Duke, Cal has already offered me marriage. Have you any idea why I resisted?”
“I assumed—”
“You assumed! Of course you did! Everyone assumes. I did not want to marry again because I am heartily sick of contorting myself to fit all these assumptions. I wanted, for once in my life, to do something to please only myself, to choose to be with a man without any legal entanglements… without tying myself for life. You did precisely that, did you not? Many, many times you bedded a woman who was not your wife, and other men thought you a fine fellow indeed for your prowess and women fell at your feet… or pretended to know nothing about it. Then why should I not do the same? Why should I not be as free as any man?”
“Because women are the better sex,” the duke said slowly. “It is for women to set the standard of virtue and for men to aspire to it, if they can.”
“Nonsense!” Cora hissed. “We each of us have free will, and may decide to tread the path of virtue if we wish. Or to step off it, if that appeals more. I have made my choice, and will not be deflected from it, even if it distresses Lily.”
“Then for your children’s sake? Or mine?”
“Have you listened to nothing I have said? I will not order my life according to the dictates of others. I have done so for fifty years, Duke. No more! I am done with such chains binding me.”
So saying, she swept from the room, entered the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, shaking.