Flint and Roses (74 page)

She would not, that winter, purchase so much as a new bonnet for Grace and was thrown into a state of intense anxiety when, among my several Christmas presents, I gave the child a fur-lined, velvet cloak.

‘Heavens, Faith, must you be so extravagant? I can't let her wear a garment like that. Everybody would want to know where it came from—how I could possibly afford it.'

‘Tell them Blaize brought it back from Russia, since Blanche has one just like it.'

‘But I can't tell anybody anything, don't you see? They won't ask
me.
They'll just tittle-tattle and make up their minds it came from Fieldhead. And, if they get the idea that Mrs. Delaney is giving presents to Grace, they'll all think they know the reason why.'

‘Really, Celia—such a fuss.'

‘Oh, it's easy for you—you just sail through your life. Nobody has ever accused your husband of malpractice, nobody is going to ask you to receive that woman.'

‘Celia, surely Jonas has not asked you to invite Mrs. Oldroyd?'

‘No,' she said, her hands clutching at one another, holding on to one another as if every part of her body was independently afraid. ‘He has not. Not yet. But he will. She wants to stay in Cullingford, I know she does. The mill is not sold, is it? The house is not sold, certainly, and is not going to be sold, for she has ordered new curtains. I know because Jonas's clerk came here with some documents the other day and said something about Fieldhead looking more comfortable, as if he imagined that I
knew
what Fieldhead looked like, that I had actually been there—which is what they must all be saying. And when I asked Jonas he just said, ‘Good lord! new curtains, no more—', which I think is quite sufficient. And, if she is to stay, then she intends to be received, and someone must be the first to do it. I lay awake all night thinking about it, for, if he forces me to have her, who am I to ask to dine with her? How am I to manage it? In fact I cannot manage it, and I told him so. He doesn't realize the implications. If we are seen to be living in that woman's pocket, then it won't be long before somebody starts saying he forged that will.'

‘Celia—Celia—nobody could think that. Not even Mrs. Hobhouse could think that.'

And, stiffening again, glancing furtively around, she muttered, ‘Oh yes, they could. You just don't know how wicked people are, Faith—how very wicked. And that, woman—Mrs. Hobhouse— sitting there in Bridlington, waiting—like a spider—just waiting. And that other woman at Fieldhead, who doesn't care—who'll just swallow us up to get her way—They could say anything.'

Yet, although her misery touched me very deeply, my own life had its claims. I could, more often than not, think of many things I would rather do than sit in the dark with my sister, an opinion shared by the majority of our acquaintance, so that she was left increasingly alone.

‘She saddens me,' my mother sighed, her own life, now that her Daniel had found something interesting and profitable to do, being sunnier and easier than ever.

‘She makes me feel inclined to give her a good shaking,' Aunt Hannah declared, her fingers clearly itching to make a start. ‘I am sorry to say this to you, Elinor, but she should not have put my son in this difficult position. He will be mayor of this town, ere long—would, indeed, have accepted office already had he not been so overburdened at home—and a lady mayoress cannot sit in her parlour and hide, you know. I shall allow her until after Christmas, and then, if she has not righted herself, I shall tell her so.'

We spent Christmas once again at Listonby, returning to find an official letter from Nicholas informing Blaize that, in view of the difficulties they experienced in working together, it would seem advisable that their partnership be dissolved. He was prepared to purchase Blaize's half of the business at a stated figure, a sizeable down-payment and the balance to be taken as a percentage of his profits over a number of years, an arrangement which would provide Blaize with an easy living.

‘My word, he's richer than I thought,' Blaize said and, leaving the communication unanswered, calmly proceeded to make plans, for a second Russian visit in the spring, which the profitability of the first, and the war-clouds menacing the unity of the northern and southern states of America, amply justified.

‘You must answer him, Blaize.'

‘Yes, I imagine he must think so too.'

And sitting down at my writing desk he penned a casual note of thanks for the letter which, he declared, he had safely received.

‘You could leave this at Tarn Edge, Faith, some time when you happen to be passing. Just put it with the calling-cards on the hall table. He'll find it.'

Nicholas called at Elderleigh for the first time a few days later, his height and breadth filling the doorway as he came into the drawing-room, an invader in my house, too big and abrupt for the dainty, cabriole-legged chairs on which he declined in any case to sit, preferring to plant himself on the hearth-rug as his father used to do, his anger well under control but too fierce, just the same, for the pale silk on my walls, the muted atmosphere of my life.

‘You could give your husband this,' he said, handing me a long brown envelope. ‘I imagine you know what it contains. It's a good offer. He won't get a better, and he may not get another. Tell him that.'

‘Shouldn't you tell him yourself, Nicholas?'

‘No. I can't talk to him, and he won't talk to me. Until now I've used my mother as a go-between, but it's not fair to her—the poor woman happens to be fond of us both—and I reckon we've caused her enough distress. You'll have to serve instead.'

‘I see. Are there any other messages you'd like me to deliver?'

‘Not at the moment. Does he discuss his affairs with you?'

‘Is that any of your business?'

And it surprised me how much easier it was to meet him at this level of cool hostility, to speak only to that granite shell, forgetting the man it had once contained.

‘Very likely not. But, if he
should
ask your opinion, then think carefully about your own position before you advise him. There are two ways of doing this. He can sell out or we can split the business. Lawcroft and Low Cross together have about the same asset value and profitability as Tarn Edge. I can take one and he can take the other. I might be persuaded to it. But he'd have a mill to run then, wouldn't he? All of it, not just the bits and pieces he fancies, and if he ran it into the ground you might just find yourself living in Bridlington, next door to the Hobhouses. He doesn't like work, Faith. He never did. You could be Sir Blaize and Lady Barforth very comfortably—in London for instance—on what I'm offering.'

‘Oh—so we're to be banished to London, are we?'

‘Not necessarily. There are other places. If you persuade him to sell and move away from here. I can only feel it would be to your advantage.'

I picked up a small object from the table in front of me, a paper-weight, a fan, a posy of porcelain flowers—I was never certain, afterwards—replaced it, moved it an inch or two on the polished surface, and then, looking up at him, smiled.

‘Heavens! We are talking of
my
advantage, are we? I do beg your pardon, Nicholas, for I have been very dull-witted. I thought it was
your
advantage we were discussing.'

‘Indeed,' he said, biting off the word at its final letter, his jaw muscles clenched tight. ‘So we are. I wouldn't be here at all unless I had something to gain, for I am not much given to social calls these days. However, in this case, the advantage could be mutual.'

And once again, speaking only to that hard shell, I looked him full in the face and smiled.

‘Are you playing the squire with me, Nicholas—ordering me off your land? Will you set your dogs on me if I disobey?'

There was a brief silence, the familiar tightening in the air.

‘You seem intent on quarrelling with me, Faith. I really wouldn't advise it.'

‘No—but then, I'm not sure that I consider your advice to be very sound, Nicholas. I can't know what your financial resources are, but I imagine this offer must stretch them quite considerably—if it is accepted.'

‘My word,' he said. ‘Lady Barforth has a commercial mind after all. Yes, I would be somewhat over-spent, which you may take as a measure of my determination. I have had enough of carrying passengers. Blaize is a passenger. The more I think of it, the more it strikes me that London would be the ideal destination for him.'

The afternoon was drawing in, winter shadows filling the garden, entering the room to stand thickly around us, a bird somewhere, far away, winging homeward across the thin, grey air of this sad season, a great void inside me, a sense, suddenly, of futility, for what would it all matter next year, or tomorrow, a deep regret that so much inside me had been wasted.

‘Would you like some tea, Nicholas?'

‘Of course not.'

‘No. Then will you tell me why you cannot work with Blaize? He's not a passenger, and you know it. Your father told you not to undervalue him and I don't believe you do, since you've been careful to get Daniel Adair to take his place. I thought for a while it was because of me. But it's not that, is it?'

And, turning my face towards the window, the expanse of dead garden, the grey, nervous wind, I closed my eyes to await the answer I knew would come.

‘No, Faith. It has little or nothing to do with you.'

‘Well?'

He crossed the room and stood beside me at the window, looking out for a moment in silence at the dark trees, sketched in February charcoal in the distance, the wind rising now, scattering the remaining corpses of last year's leaves across the sleeping lawn, tossing against the window-pane a peevish handful of rain.

‘I don't deal in personalities,' he said quietly. ‘I told you that once before. I gave up personalities—people—a fair while ago. A sensible man stops playing the games he can't seem to win, and goes in for something more suited to his nature. I want the Barforth mills, Faith, simply because I want them. I shall most probably do anything to get them. Blaize is just a hurdle in the course I've set myself, an extra dash of spice to the challenge, if you like—no more than that. And when I can call Tarn Edge and Low Cross and Lawcroft mine, I know damned well I won't be satisfied. It won't be long before I'll find something else—need something else—to go after, another hurdle to cross, and when I've crossed it all that is likely to matter to me is the next. Some men feel like that about women. Blaize feels like that about women, as you must know. Frankly, I prefer my satisfactions to his. Take him to London, Faith, and go on looking pretty for him as long as you can. If he stays here and tries to force my agreement to a split, then something may happen to sour his temper, which would make your life no easier.'

‘My life is not difficult, Nicholas.'

‘Of course it isn't. And I'm sure we're all anxious that it should continue to be just as pleasant. Give him my letter. Try to convince him that his marriage to you is no thorn in my side. You could even let him know that his support of my own wife against me is something I can tolerate without much trouble. He's always been meddlesome, and I'm quite accustomed to it. Georgiana can always visit him in London when she feels the need of his advice, or when she's run through her allowance by the second of the month and doesn't feel she can tell me. She may find it marginally less convenient than running to his office at Tarn Edge, but I'm not disposed to worry about that. You should take care, Faith, for knowing his whimsical turn of mind he must find her dependence on his judgment—and on his generosity—very appealing.'

I walked away from him, moving very slowly through the darkened room to the table where I had put down his letter and, picking it up, I passed it from one hand to the other, studying it carefully, no anger in me at all, nothing but a deep, calm sadness.

‘May I go through the points you have raised with me, Nicholas?'

‘By all means.'

‘Yes—first of all, then, you are telling me that Blaize is incapable of running a business and that unless I prevent him from making the attempt I could find myself destitute?'

‘I reckon there's a fair chance of it.'

‘Yes. That is what I thought you meant. And then, in case that should not frighten me enough, you dropped a little hint about Blaize's past reputation with women—a slight suggestion that it may not really be past at all.'

‘Did I really go so far as to suggest that?'

‘Oh yes—indeed you did. Is it against the law, Nicholas, to destroy a letter addressed to another person?'

‘I believe it may be.'

‘Ah well—I cannot imagine you will see any profit in bringing me to justice.' And, holding the letter with the tips of my fingers, I dropped it quite daintily into the fire and stood very still, blocking the hearth with my wide skirts until it shrivelled at its edges, spurted with a brief flame, blackened to a heap of ash and then to nothingness.

Behind me, Nicholas made no movement, no sound, and when the small murder was done I turned, still calm enough, to meet his eyes.

‘You have declared war on me, have you, Faith?'

‘Oh no. Whatever was in your letter you may write again. If you send it, I will make sure Blaize receives it. He is no more likely to ask my opinion than you would ask Georgiana's, but, if he should ask, then I will answer in the best way I can. I don't really know how I would advise him. I haven't decided yet. But when I do, it will be for my reasons, Nicholas, not for yours.'

He walked towards me, his face, with the light behind him, almost invisible, so that he was very close to me before I could see the familiar tight-clenching of his jaw, which seemed for just a moment to be painful rather than angry, the fine lines around his eyes, the deeper ones from nose to chin etched by a weight, not of temper, but of disillusion, that made him a harder, older, wearier man than he should have been.