The Love Child

I thought about him. He was another strange man, a man who had known many women before he married my mother. I believed he had been faithful to her. Christabel was his daughter. He had admitted that. Perhaps he had other children here and there.

Thinking of my father stopped those images. I saw him instead of the handsome, lascivious face of Beaumont Granville which I was sure would haunt me for the rest of my life.

I thought then: I love my father. I love him dearly … perhaps more than I do my mother. Always I had wanted to impress him, to have him take notice of me, to look for me when he came home after an absence. He never had. He never would. I was only the daughter and sons were important to a man such as he was.

Then suddenly I was elated because when he came through the door I could say to myself: I saved you. I brought you home. The daughter you have never thought of much account was the one who saved your life.

I did not care at that moment what I had done. I was glad of it. I had suffered humiliation for his sake and I would do it again.

My mother stirred uneasily during the morning. I sat beside her with a sickening fear in my heart.

Would Granville keep his word? Why should I trust such a man? Was he laughing now because he had deceived me as he had been deceived about me in Venice?

He had sworn that he paid his debts and I still believed he would pay this one. I must believe. But as the morning wore on terrible doubts came to me.

I thought fiercely, If he has failed me, I will kill him.

It was early in the afternoon when my father walked in.

He was dirty and unkempt. He smelt of the prison. There was death in that smell.

He was pale and had lost a great deal of weight. But he was there. He was safe.

“Oh, Father!” I cried. “So you are back!”

He nodded. “Your mother…”

I looked towards the bed and he was kneeling there. She opened her eyes. I shall never forget the smile on her face. She was young and beautiful again and they were in each other’s arms.

I stood watching them, but they were unaware of me.

Carlotta’s Cupboard

My mother’s recovery was rapid. The doctor had seen right when he had said that all she needed was to see my father safe and well.

We made hasty preparations to leave, for she said that she should not feel safe until we were back in Eversleigh. There was a determined look about her mouth. I could see that she had made up her mind that there would be no more dabbling in rebellions.

We had King James the Second on the throne; he was a Catholic, and my father, in common with a great many English men and women, did not want a Catholic King; but my mother’s theory was that he was there and there he must stay and we must put up with him. We were running no more risks.

I think seeing her so ill and anxious had affected my father deeply. During the days which followed they would not allow one to be out of the other’s sight. It was moving, and in spite of my bruised and humiliated body, I felt exultant because but for me it would have been a very different story.

We took the first coach back and went by stages. My father thought it best to travel as simply as possible in case there had been a mistake.

When we were back in Eversleigh they talked more freely.

“I cannot think who my benefactor was,” said my father. “It happened so suddenly. I was taken to a room where I spent the night alone. It was a relief. The conditions were appalling. I shall never get that stench out of my nostrils.

Just to be taken away from it was a blessing. And the next day I was free.”

He was convinced that my mother had paid a heavy bribe to someone. She assured him that she had not. Indeed when we had arrived in Dorchester she had been in a fever and had not even known where she was.

“It must have been someone,” said my father. “I wonder who. I shall discover. I certainly have a very good friend somewhere.”

“Someone for whom you once did a service,” suggested my mother.

“I should remember. But I can think of no one. It would have needed a great deal, I am sure. Jeffreys-the devil-is becoming rich through the assizes.”

Neither of them noticed me, and it occurred to me that after the experience of that night there must be a change in me. I felt I should never be the same again. It had been utter degradation, complete submission to a man who mingled his sexual desires with a passion for revenge. I would never forget his gloating laughter, and I had known that he was thinking of Leigh and his own humiliation in being severely thrashed.

How that must have offended what he called his refined tastes! What lotions he would have needed to heal his wounds! But what had affected him most deeply was the humiliation.

I guessed he had soothed that a little after what he had done to me.

And yet, to witness the love of my parents and their joy in finding themselves together again filled me with exultation because but for me their lives would lie in ruins.