The Love Child

My mother liked to celebrate our anniversaries. She was very sentimental and eager to preserve the family feeling. Carlotta’s birthday was a very special occasion, for Carlotta was looking upon it as a coming of age. It was to be held at the Abbas, for although she had spent a great deal of time at Eversleigh, that was reckoned to be her home. She had added her governess, Amelia Garston, to her admirers and a friendship had sprung up between them, much as had existed between Christabel and myself. Harriet said it was a good thing for her to have a friend nearer her own age and Amelia had come from a desirable background; the only thing her family lacked which ours had was money.

The great hall at the Abbas was decorated with as many plants as could be mustered at that time of the year. I arrived with Damaris, my parents, Jane and her son, plus Sally Nullens who regarded herself as indispensable to the children.

Robert Frinton was naturally there. He had looked forward to the event for weeks, he told me. I was sure that he had brought rich presents for Carlotta who, I was glad to say, always thanked him charmingly and made rather a point of what she called “looking after him,” which surprised me because she was usually so involved in her own affairs; but I supposed she found his devotion especially touching.

I had never seen Carlotta more lovely. She was, of course, the centre of attraction.

After all it was her day. A large birthday cake had been made and this Carlotta ceremoniously cut. She was dressed in a gown of deep blue-the silk had been one of those which Robert had sent her-and at her throat sparkled the diamond brooch-his present. She wore a string of pearls threaded through her hair-the gift of Gregory and Harriet-and on her finger a sapphire ring from Leigh and me. Rather an excess of jewellery for one so young perhaps, but this was her birthday and she must please all the donors by wearing their gifts.

She was completely happy, and when she was, it was a pleasant trait of hers to want everyone else to be the same.

She danced a great deal with Benjie, who was now well advanced into his twenties.

I agreed with Harriet that, in spite of the fact that she was quite a few years younger, he would make a good husband for Carlotta. Benjie always looked slightly bewildered when he was with Carlotta.

I wondered about him. He had never thought of marrying as yet. Was it true that he was in love with the girl whom he believed to be his sister?

What complications arose when one stepped outside the rules of convention. If Benjie suddenly knew that Carlotta was not his sister, what would his reaction be?

It was becoming more and more clear to me that sooner or later I should have to disclose the truth. I could have told my mother. I was sure she would understand. But for some obscure reason I did not want my father to know. That seemed absurd. Why he should think worse of me when he had never thought very much about me in any case, I did not know. But he would be critical. He had entered into many relationships lightheartedly, I was sure. There had been results in at least one. My half sister Christabel was evidence of that. So why should he stand in judgment on me! And yet I could not bear him to know. He dominated me as he always had done. The fact that I had saved his life should have made a difference … if he had known. I sometimes played with the idea of telling him. I heard myself saying: “Carlotta is my daughter.

Yes, I have an illegitimate daughter just as you have. I should have married her father had he lived. Your relationships were different. You entered into them to satisfy your lust. Can you criticize me? And let me tell you, you who never wanted a daughter and thought little of the one you had, if it had not been for her, you would be dead now … and you would have died horribly. I paid dearly for saving your life, and what happened to me is something which has scarred me forever.”

I wondered so often what he would say if he knew. Yet I told myself that he never should.

Now there were Carlotta and Benjie to think of. I saw Harriet watching them, and then her eyes were on me. Harriet would tell Benjie, I knew, just as she had told Robert Frinton.

Perhaps she was right. If one stepped aside, others must not suffer because of it.

The dance had stopped. Carlotta was taking a goblet of wine to Robert Frinton. She sat beside him. He was smiling with pleasure as she fingered the brooch at her throat, and I knew she was telling him how much she liked it and thanking him for it. She leaned forward and kissed him.

He took her hand and held it. She did not remove it but let it lie in his. I think she was really quite fond of him.

The music started and she took the wine from him and set it down.

She pulled him to his feet and went out with him to lead the dance.

He was not very agile and I thought how old he looked, but perhaps that was hi contrast to Carlotta’s glowing youth.