Beyond The Blue Mountains - Plaidy Jean (бесплатные онлайн книги читаем полные .TXT) 📗

“There are dangers enough to be met with on the high seas.”

Kitty lay in her bed and stared helplessly up at the ceiling. She was not thinking of Barrel] now; she could think of nothing but the girl whom Aunt Harriet had whipped almost to death.

This could not be… not in addition to everything else! When she had heard them talking so callously down there in the garden, she had said to herself: I will wait for him! I will wait! And she had meant that if there were to be years and years of waiting, still she would wait. But those years had to be lived through, and how could she live through them, penniless, with a baby to care for?

How cruel was life! Darrell had been so anxious that no harm should befall her and it was only because they both believed so fervently that they would ride to London together that he had released his passion; and once he had done that he had been unable to stem it. She was shivering, but when Peg and Dolly peeped in to see how she was, they found her unnaturally flushed.

“Why, bless you, Miss Kitty, you have a fever.” said Peg. She cried in panic: “Do not mention to my aunt that I am not well.”

She got up and bathed her face. It was a good thing that Harriet, who had never been ill in her life, did not believe in illness. Unless it was a leg that was broken or a wound that she could see, she thought it was sham.

Kitty went about her tasks outwardly calm, inwardly in a tumult. She was forgetting her love for Darrell in her fear for herself. A terrible thing had happened to Darrell; but a still more terrible thing had happened to her.

If only her mother were here, she would know what to do. Nothing would ever turn her mother from her. She talked to her mother in her thoughts. You see, Mother, we loved each other so much, and we were going to London to be married. If only he hadn’t gone to Exeter! If only he had stayed here, I should be married to him; we should be with his Uncle Simon in London, and we should be so happy because we should be going to have a child. But now there is no one to help me, Mother. Aunt Harriet is cold and distant, just as you said. She would never have done this thing which I have done; therefore she would think me wicked to have done it. There was a poor little girl from the workhouse, and she almost beat her to death. But what happened to her afterwards … when Aunt Harriet turned her out! That is what I think, Mother; that is what I cannot stop thinking.

And the very thought of her mother’s face, lovely though ageing, and full of lazy kindness, soothed her. She would have understood; but she would have been practical too. She would surely have said: “We must find a husband for you, darling.”

“Mother! Mother!” prayed Kitty.

“Do something for me. Help me! Give me some sign that you know what has happened to me, and tell me what I can do.”

She asked Peg and Dolly about the girl who had loved a groom. They had not known her but they had heard of her.

“Tis a terrible thing to happen to a girl,” said Peg; and she and Dolly were silent for a long time thinking what a terrible thing it was to happen to a girl.

Kitty wanted to shout: “It has happened to me!” Something restrained her; she thought it was her mother, watching over her, restraining her. No one must know__yet… no one at all.

She and her aunt went to Haredon for a few days; the squire had sent the carriage for them.

A lovely house, Haredon; it had been built by a Haredon in the reign of Queen Anne. Harriet sat, lips pursed, as the carriage turned in at the drive. The gracious elms, the grey walls of the house had always filled her with pleasure. She thought of the land round Haredon, and especially the orchards; she thought of the staff of servants and the joy of running the place.

The squire came out to meet them, and from a window Jennifer Jay watched them.

Colour burned in Kitty’s cheeks; her eyes were brilliant. Never, thought Squire Haredon, had she looked as beautiful as she did here in the setting which would soon be hers. She liked the house; perhaps she liked it so much that she was ready to take him, since he went with the house.

You wait! he thought. You wait, my beauty! And his fingers itched to seize her; and as they walked into the house he put his hand on her shoulder and gripped it hard; she turned her head and smiled at him, with her lips parted and a look of promise in her eyes. His hand slipped to her waist and touched the warmth of her bosom. She did not move away from him, and as they entered the house she was still smiling.

Dolman, the butler, brought drinks into the library. The squire touched her glass with his; she could see the veins standing out on his forehead knotted they were, and blue, as if ready to burst. She felt more comforted than she had since she had lost Darrell, and it seemed to her then that this visit was her mother’s answer to her prayers.

“I want to show Kitty round the place,” said the squire, smiling into his glass.

“I am proud of Haredon, Kitty.”

“And rightly so, George,” said Harriet with no trace in her voice of the wistfulness she felt; ‘it is a place to be proud of.”

“Thank you, Harry. Now, Kitty!” He smacked his lips and licked the wine from them, and his eyes never left her.

“Come now.”

They left Harriet in the library with the squire’s eldest cousin who had come to play hostess, and went over the house alone. It was indeed a beautiful place, so big that Kitty felt it would be easy to lose oneself in it. There were tall windows, ornate ceilings and deep window seats. Now and then Kitty heard the sound of footsteps hastily scurrying away; once a mob-capped serving maid, unable to escape in time, blushed hotly and dropped a deep curtsy; and in his free and easy way the squire made her stand before them, and he introduced Kitty as though she had already agreed to share his home. He seemed younger then, and she liked him better than she had ever liked him before. This was his castle and he was the king; he was a showman watching the effect on her of his treasures.

“Do you like it, Kitty?”

“It is very grand!”

“Big though. Big for one man to live in… all alone.”

She could laugh at that.

“As far as I can see, you are far from alone … here.”

“You pick me up sharp, Kitty!” And he looked as if he liked being picked up sharp.

They were in the galleries, looking at portraits of the Haredon family.

“Do you think I take after them, Kitty?” he wanted to know, thrusting his face close to hers.

“I can see you better, not so close,” she said, and he laughed and drew back. Wasn’t that just the sort of thing Bess would have said! It was like having Bess here again. He thought of gripping the girl’s shoulders and kissing her, and hurting her hurting her for all the years he had been unable to forget Bess.

“Yes,” she went on, ‘there is a resemblance.”

“Ah!” he said.

“That’s how it is with families; you are the spit of your mother, Kitty. There was a time, you know, when I was very fond of your mother.”

“Most people were fond of her!”

That was the trouble, Kitty! That was the trouble.” He narrowed his eyes. He thought, by God, if you try any tricks with me, I’ll well nigh kill you! Bess fooled me I’ll not stand for that treatment twice in a lifetime.

She said: “I want to see the children.”

Jennifer stood up as they entered. She had been by the window, stitching something. He could see how violently her heart was beating under her tight bodice: she must learn to behave; more tantrums and out she would go; she gave herself airs because once he had found her amusing.

“Where are the children?” he asked curtly, and he wanted to give her a slap on the side of her face for her insolence.

She jerked her head towards the playroom, and his eyes looked straight into hers, cold and contemptuous. Kitty went forward. Jennifer almost barred his way; he pushed her aside without looking at her.