The Love Child

Carlotta had eloped. Beaumont Granville had come for her early that morning. He had had the carriage waiting at the gates. They were going to London where they would be married.

I thought we should never arrive in tune. I insisted on going with them. We took the most fleet of the horses-my father, Gregory and

I was glad my father had come because I believed he would know how to deal with Beaumont Granville. Carlotta was too young to marry, and Gregory, who had always been as a father to her, and I, her mother, and her grandfather must carry some weight.

My father was no longer out of favour at Court and his presence would give us the influence we needed. I doubted Beaumont Granville was the kind of man who would find much favour with the King.

We were in sight of London. It was a misty day with a drizzle in the air. I could just see the towers and spires of the city rising up through the mist. The distance seemed twice as long as it normally did, and I was in the deepest despair before we had the greatest stroke of luck.

There in the road less than a mile from the city was the carriage. One of the wheels had gone into a ditch and the coachman was doing his best to get it out.

“Thank God,” I cried, “we are in time.”

My father took charge.

“Good day, sir,” he said. “And what are you doing on this dull morning? Stuck in a ditch, eh? That’s justice. You have no right, sir, to take this young lady from her home.”

Carlotta had appeared. I saw the blank dismay on her face. She had flushed scarlet and she cried out: “I was not taken from my home. I came willingly.”

“You will return with us … albeit less willingly,” said my father. “This is no way to behave.”

She clenched her fist, but she looked uncertain. She had always been slightly in awe of my father, although he had been softer to her than he ever had to me. There was an affinity between them. She was wild, passionate and self-willed. He was all that, too.

Beaumont Granville looked as urbane as ever and quite unruffled.

“I can explain,” he began.

“No need to,” retorted my father. “Everything is clear to me.”

“My intentions were entirely honourable. I proposed marriage and was accepted.”

I cried out: “You were to wait awhile. That was the agreement.”

“You treat me as though I am in the nursery,” protested Carlotta.

“You behave as though you are still there,” growled my father. “Come, get up on my horse. We’ll turn in at the next inn and get you something to ride.”

“It is the young lady’s wish…” began Beaumont Granville.

“My dear sir, you know the penalties for abducting children.”

“I am no child,” cried Carlotta.

“You are not of age and therefore under your parents’ control. I'll have no nonsense.

I could have you before the courts, sir. I have some influence in those quarters.

Escapades of this kind are out of date and frowned on.”

Beaumont Granville seemed resigned.

“I’ll stay with you, Beau,” said Carlotta.

“You will return to Eversleigh,” contradicted my father. “And sharp about it.”

Beaumont Granville looked ruefully at the carriage.

“It was our bad luck,” he said to Carlotta. “If this had not happened we should have been married by now, and then they could have done nothing.”

Carlotta was near to tears, but I could see she was overwhelmed by my father. Gregory had said very little. His gentleness would have done little good on an occasion like this.

Beaumont Granville shrugged his shoulders and addressed himself to my father.

“I am sorry, sir, to have caused you this inconvenience, but you know how it is when one is in love.”

He turned to Carlotta and she went to him and stood close. I felt nauseated, fighting back hideous memories. He whispered something to her and she brightened a little.

He held her hand and kissed it. Then she walked over to my father.

We rode off, Carlotta with my father on his big black horse.

Beaumont Granville stood in the road looking ruefully at his coachman who was still trying to pull the carriage out of the rut.

Murder at Enderby

AH the way back Carlotta was silent, brooding. When I spoke to her she answered in monosyllables. I felt she was blaming me for ruining her happiness.

Harriet was waiting for us when we reached Eversleigh. Carlotta ran to her and threw herself into her arms. I felt waves of jealousy sweep over me. Carlotta was telling me that she believed Harriet was her friend. Harriet would never have been so cruel to her.

I longed to tell her how much I loved her, how I wanted above everything to save her from this man who had proved his cruelty to me and had brazenly admitted that it was her fortune he wanted. How could I make her see? Only by telling her of that fearful night which had cast its shadow over my life.

No man of honour would have behaved as he did. Had it not been for her money he would have been content with seduction; but he wanted to get his hands on her inheritance and marriage was necessary for that.

My poor, innocent, deluded Carlotta, who thought she knew so much and understood so little.