The love child

The Revelation

LOOKING BACK, I CANNOT think how I lived through the next few weeks. The memory of Beaumont Granville was always with us.

The next day I had gone out to that spot where I had seen Leigh among the trees. It was clear that the earth had been disturbed and I knew that the body of Beaumont Granville was lying underneath it.

I was almost beside myself with grief and anxiety. Somehow I had always known that that night which I had spent with him had not been the end. It was only the opening of a hideous tragedy. It was like a macabre masque and this was the inevitable ending.

The affair at Venice had been the prelude. The attempted abduction and the thrashing had set the stage for what was to come.

Leigh was a murderer because of what I had done. I had always known that he would kill Beaumont Granville if he learned what had happened. His nature was one of impulsive passion. When he had heard what had happened, he had planned to kill him and he had done so without delay. Then he had dug his grave and buried him.

Murder is a fearsome thing. I suppose anyone who has committed it can never forget it. I had come near to committing it myself. But should I have fired the fatal shot when I had come face to face with my tormentor? I began to wonder. Instinct told me that I would never have done it. I could never have killed another human being whatever the provocation. But I could almost wish that I had done it myself rather than that Leigh should.

It had been my tragedy. I had made the decision to save my father’s life. I should have been the one who took that last action.

But I could never have done it. I realized that now.

And now what was next? I was sure it was not finished.

For a whole week nothing happened. Leigh and I were like strangers. We could not even make an attempt at leading a normal married life.

He seemed as though he did not want to come near me, and yet I was aware that he was yearning for me. I took refuge in illness. It was not difficult.

My mother sent for the doctor, who said I needed to eat more. I was exhausted. I must rest and eat nourishing food, or I might go into a decline.

Carlotta came to see me. I believe she had to be persuaded to do so. She was aloof and sullen.

Harriet came. “What on earth has happened to you?” she demanded. “You are so wan. You haven’t been yourself for a long time. What is it?”

I repeated what the doctor had said.

“Carlotta is disturbed,” she said. “She hasn’t heard from our romantic hero for some time.”

“Oh?” I said faintly.

“No. Apparently he had been at Enderby and he has just disappeared.”

“At Enderby!” I said blankly.

“Yes. The empty house. It’s hers, of course, and it seems he went there so that he would be near and she could go and see him. Then one day … he’s gone. She thought he had to go to London and didn’t have time to tell her. She’s anxious now to go to London.”

I said nothing.

“She’s determined to marry him,” went on Harriet. “I expect she will. Once she’s made up her mind she doesn’t rest until she gets what she wants. You’ll have to get reconciled, Priscilla.”

I turned my head away listlessly.

“Well,” said Harriet, “it’s life. If he’s a bit of a rogue she’ll get used to it. The young have to live for themselves, you know. No use trying to set them on the straight and narrow path before they have explored the byways.”

I wanted to shout at her: Go away. I can’t bear any more.

Christabel came to see me. She soothed me because she did not talk about Beaumont Granville but herself. She wanted another child. She thought she ought to have one. She knew it was what Thomas wanted more than anything.

“I thought you were supposed not to,” I said.

“It would be dangerous, they said. But I think young Thomas needs a brother or sister.”

“Don’t be silly,” I admonished, “he needs you more.”

“I suppose so,” she answered. “It was a miracle, wasn’t it, the way I became so important to my two Thomases? … I who had never been important to anyone before and only a nuisance to some.”

“You always did talk a lot of nonsense about that, Christabel.”

A few weeks later she came to me and told me she was pregnant.

“It will all work out for the best,” she said. “I know I am doing the right thing.”

My mother said it was foolish in view of what had happened at the time of young Thomas’s birth. Thomas Willerby was very worried; but there was an air of serenity about Christabel, and she kept insisting that this would make everything right.

We all began to believe her.

And I was glad to listen to talk about the coming baby rather than to let my thoughts dwell perpetually on the terrible thing which had happened.

There was a strangeness in the house. My father had changed towards me. I often found his gaze fixed on me, and when he saw that I noticed he would smile in an embarrassed way. When he spoke to me his voice was almost tender. He was noticing me at last.

I wanted to say: It is too late now. Everything is too late. Carlotta is saved … but by what means!

Leigh and I had fallen into a strange relationship. There had been restraint between us from the first and that had come from me. Now it was stronger. He was uneasy as well as I was.

My husband was a murderer. It might have been a righteous murder, but it was murder all the same. He had killed Beaumont Granville and had buried him under the ground. We never knew from one day to another when some clue might lead to the discovery of his body. The suspense was unbearable.

Harriet was our informant.

“It’s very strange,” she said. “Our Beau seems to have disappeared completely. No one has heard of him in London for months.”

“Are they trying to find him?” I asked.

“They think he’s gone abroad. He owed a good deal of money. His creditors are gnashing their teeth. He apparently borrowed a good deal on the strength of his coming marriage.”

“I daresay,” I replied.

“Then … he just disappears. People are getting more and more certain that he has gone abroad. He always travelled quite a lot. They are saying that the heiress must have jilted him and he had to get away, as he couldn’t face his creditors.”

“It seems a possible explanation.”

“But of course, the heiress didn’t jilt him, as we know full well.”

“There might have been another reason.”

“There must have been. Carlotta is heartbroken. She cannot understand it. They were going to London together and there were not going to be any carriage mishaps that time.”

“And yet he has gone.”

“I have a theory.”

“What?” I asked, trying to keep the note of fear out of my voice.

“He scented an even greater heiress … someone in another country.”

“That seems a likely explanation.”

“I put it to Carlotta. It made her furious at first, but I think she is beginning to suspect it might be true.”

“She rarely comes to see me,” I said sadly.

“Oh, she blames you for spoiling the romance. I have come to the conclusion that you acted wisely.”

“Thank you.”

“He was a little too blatant. Just going off like that without a word! He ought to have stayed and honoured his obligations. At least he should have presented her with a good excuse. I am sure he could have thought of something moderately plausible. But to go like that …”

“Do you think she is getting over it?”

“Yes. She is not brooding so much. Benjie is a great help.” She smiled secretly. “They were always such friends … and still are.”

I closed my eyes.

“At least she has been saved from disaster,” I said.

And I thought once more: And at what bitter cost!

I sometimes went to that spot where on the day after that fearful night I had noticed the disturbed earth. The grass had now grown over it. It was not easy to find.

No one would think of looking for Beaumont Granville there.

They had ceased to talk of him now. I wondered if they still did in London. They would shrug their shoulders. He had no close family. They would presume he had gone abroad as he often did. Perhaps years later they would presume him dead and some distant cousin would take over his estates.

Now the months were passing. Summer had come. I wondered how long Leigh and I could go on in this way.

I sometimes asked myself whether it would have been easier if I had told him that I knew what had happened, that I had seen the bloodstained body of Beaumont Granville, that I had watched him as he dug his grave. Would it have been better if we had been entirely frank?

I could not know, but it seemed to me that whatever happened Beaumont Granville would lie between us for the rest of our lives.

Our marriage should have brought such happiness to us both. We loved each other. There was no doubt of that. I knew I would never love anyone as I loved Leigh and he had committed murder out of his love for me. Yet we were like two people struggling in a mist, wanting to find each other and yet unable to because of the great burden of guilt which lay between us.

Leigh was my beloved husband, but he was a murderer; and I shared his guilt because that murder had been done because of me. Moreover, how could I be sure that if Leigh had not arrived at Enderby Hall before me, I might have been the one who was guilty of taking a life?

And so we went on through those hot summer days. There was no peace for either of us. For me the future seemed completely bleak. There was only one matter which made me rejoice.

Carlotta had been saved.

We had taken the Dower House. We had acquired the land. On that land was Beaumont Granville’s grave. Leigh had been adamant that we must have that area.

I thought: We are safe now. No one will ever discover the body. But I would never forget. I wondered whether his ghost would return to haunt us. It was there already. There was no need for strange sounds or weird sights. I believed that he would be there to torment me for as long as I lived. Could we ever be happy again? Oh, yes, he was dead; he was lying there murdered in his grave, but he was still with us.

November had come—the season of mists and darkness.

Christabel’s child was born. It was a healthy girl and we were all delighted. Alas, it was as it had been with the other child. She became ill immediately after the birth.

The doctors shook their heads and said they had warned her. She should never have risked having another child.

I went to see her. She looked almost radiant. She was very proud of the baby.

“Thomas has his daughter,” she said. “It is what I wanted for him. He has two lovely children and I have given them to him.”

I thought: She will get well. She must. She was so contented.

The day after I had visited her, Thomas came over to the Dower House.

“Christabel wants to see you urgently,” he said. “She wants you and Leigh, and she says you must come together. You two alone … and now.”

I said: “She is feeling better. She must be.”

Thomas said: “She seems very happy. Very much better, yes. I am sure she is going to be well soon. But she did say she wanted to see you two as soon as possible. Will you come back with me?”

I said we would and went off to find Leigh.

We went over to Grassland without delay and straight to her room.

She was lying propped up on pillows and there was a strangeness about her. She looked almost ethereal.

“Priscilla!” she cried. “Leigh! I am glad you have come. I was afraid you would not get here in time.”

“Of course we came,” I answered. “But what’s the urgency, Christabel? You are looking better. You look …”

“Yes, how do I look?”

“Radiant in a way … You look happy.”

“I am … in a way … now you’re here. There is something I have to tell you … something important. It’s not easy, but I can’t rest until I tell you. It’s very important. I must begin at the beginning. Then you’ll understand. You know my nature, Priscilla. Envy has ruled my life.”

“It was because of your birth, Christabel. I understand. But you changed when you married.”

She nodded. “I was so jealous of you … particularly you … because you were born in the right place.”

“I know. But there is no need to worry about it anymore.”

“People should think before they bring children into the world. A short-lived pleasure … and there is a life … someone else’s life. When I thought Edwin might love me I was very happy. Not that I loved him exactly, but I yearned for what marriage with him would have meant. And then we went to Venice and I was in your confidence and I was pleased about that. Priscilla, I was pleased about your trouble …and because of everything that had to be done. I was fond of you. That’s why it is so hard to understand. Yet because of your difficulty I couldn’t help being pleased in a strange way.”

“It’s of no importance now,” I said. “Please don’t distress yourself, Christabel.”

“But it is of importance. Listen. In Venice when Carlotta was about to be born, Beaumont Granville was there. He sought me out …” She lowered her voice and for a few moments seemed unable to go on. “He could be so charming. He knew just how to handle a woman like me. He quickly understood how starved of affection I had always been and how I longed for it. You can guess what happened.”

“Oh, Christabel, no!” I cried. “Not you!”

“Yes, I am afraid so. He did what he would with me. There was a picture. He made me pose for him”

I lowered my eyes. I could not look at Leigh.

“And he made me tell him all about you … and Jocelyn … Carlotta. He knew that it was your baby … not Harriet’s.”

“I begin to understand a great deal,” I said.

“He came back. He came back here. He needed money. He knew that I had married a rich man. Priscilla, I gave him money … to keep quiet and not tell Thomas. I could not have borne Thomas to know. He had this picture of me. He threatened. Oh, but you understand. I could not let it happen … I couldn’t. I was so happy. I had all that I had wanted all my life and now he had come to threaten it.”

“Oh, Christabel,” I murmured. “I understand. He was a wicked man.”

“I didn’t care what I did as long as I could stop him. He told me about that night with you. He was so proud of his cleverness in ruling our lives, making us, as he said, dance to his tune. We were his slaves. I had to do something. I had to try and hold what I had won at last. And there was only one way. I took a gun and I shot him. Yes, Priscilla, I killed him.”

Leigh was looking at me in a wondering bewilderment. We were both beginning to understand so much. It struck me suddenly that he had believed it was I who had killed Beaumont Granville, and I knew that he had taken the body away and buried it in order to save me.

“I came out of the house in a sort of daze. I was a murderess. I couldn’t believe that ordinary people such as I could really commit murder. The enormity of what I had done suddenly burst on me. I was afraid to go home. I waited there. I saw Leigh come out with the body. I saw him digging and I knew that he was going to bury it. I saw you, too, Priscilla, and I realized how deeply we were all involved in this. Knowing what I did made everything clear to me. Leigh was burying the body because he thought you had killed him. My great feeling then was a tremendous relief. I had done it. No one need know. Thomas would never hear of what I had been to Beaumont Granville. But it wasn’t quite like that. Nothing we do is so neatly cut off and finished. I have been so aware of you always, Priscilla. We are sisters … true sisters. I knew that you and Leigh were growing further and further apart and I understand why. This thing was between you. You had never talked of it, never told each other what really happened. He thought you had murdered that man and you thought he had. That was clear to me. It would always be there between you.”

“Oh, poor Christabel,” I said, “my sister. I know how you must have suffered.”

“I realized that there could be no happiness for me if I did not tell and yet I could not bear Thomas to know. He loved me so much. He had put me on a pedestal. I was so happy with him. That was why I had to kill this evil man. And when I had done it, there was some recompense I could make. I could give Thomas a child and I would die doing it.”

“You are not going to die,” I said.

“How can I live in peace with murder on my soul?”

“He is dead now,” said Leigh. “He deserved to die. Why should anyone ever know? He lies there on our land. No one will mourn him.”

“Murder is murder,” she said. “‘Thou shalt not kill.’ I am going to die. I know I am. I know I should. My child will live, though, and my love for Thomas will live. He will visit my grave and lay flowers on it and he will say, ‘She was a good wife to me.’ And my children will comfort him, and you two must comfort each other.”

She was smiling, and although there was death in her face there was radiance too. It was as though she had been lost for a long time and had suddenly found her way to peace.

Before the week was out she was dead.

Leigh and I came back to the Dower House. We did not speak. There was a great understanding between us. We knew that we were at the beginning of a new life together and that it would be good.