Ice Angel (20 page)

‘M
Y
father was gravely ill,’ continued Isabella. ‘He was aware that he was dying and, as I told you when we walked in the park, he grew agitated, wanting my marriage to Edward to take place in his sick-room. Edward was all encouragement for this. I, however, was in turmoil – I wanted to give comfort to my father, but it did not feel right to marry Edward in such haste. In trying to relieve my father’s
anxieties
as well as listening to Edward’s pleadings, I felt under pressure to accede.

‘Some days after agreeing to the ceremony taking place, I reconsidered and tentatively suggested to Edward that we should delay. My father was under the affects of the opiate and would hardly have been aware of what was happening, so I proposed that the ceremony be a mock one, carried out simply to satisfy my father. We could then arrange for the legal ceremony to take place after a suitable period of mourning. Edward’s
reaction
was totally unexpected – he flew into a violent rage.’

When she shivered at the memory, Hal’s arm tightened around her. ‘What happened?’ he asked.

‘He said that I was a provocative little witch, that I had encouraged him to marry me quickly and now I wanted to make him wait. We would be married as arranged, he said, or he would tell my father that I was a cruel, contrary and conniving little baggage. I was barely seventeen, and confused and
frightened
, Hal. Horrified by Edward’s manner, I pleaded with him not to upset my father because I thought it might hasten his death, and reluctantly agreed the marriage could take place as he wished. Edward’s rage then abated and he persuaded me to forgive his intemperate words.’

‘A disgraceful way to treat you when your father was dying,’ said Hal in a constricted voice.

‘I know that now,’ she replied, ‘but at the time I was immature and anxious to please someone whose impatience, I believed, was because of his love for me. So, in an error of judgement I have regretted a million times since, I forgave Edward and the ceremony went ahead. It was the strangest marriage ceremony that ever took place; the only people present were Edward, me, my father, the clergyman of course, and two servants who acted as witnesses.’ Isabella gave a tremulous smile and continued, ‘The bride cried silent tears throughout, but they were tears of sadness, not of joy. Apart from my father’s impending death, perhaps I also had a premonition of what was to come.

‘After the ceremony, Edward returned to his property, Vane Manor. I felt sick with worry, afraid that he would return to consummate the marriage that night. However, he made no demands and I was left in peace to nurse my father. Edward must have known that the end was hours away and was simply biding his time. He offered me no support and I felt angry and let down: I had assumed my new husband would try to ease my sadness a little. Two days later, my father died and I was left alone to deal with my grief. Even though I sent word to him, Edward did not return and I was obliged to make the funeral arrangements myself.

‘On the day of the funeral, when the mourners had gone home, Edward informed me brusquely to pack my things. By the time I reached Vane Manor, I felt wretched – not only had I buried my father, but I had left my childhood home and was alone in the world, apart from Harriet who was many miles away and Great Uncle James, a distant relative.

‘I hoped that Edward would now be more comforting but I was mistaken. The loving suitor was gone and in his place was a curt stranger. His attitude was terse and cold, and he drank throughout the silent dinner we shared. When I could delay no longer, I went to ready myself for bed.’ Isabella shuddered. ‘I – I did not know what to expect; I had no mother to guide me and I only knew the fundamentals of what happened between a man and a woman. I hoped that Edward would be patient, b-but when he came to me that night, I was suddenly afraid – his expression was pitiless. W-When I felt the weight of his body and smelt the wine on his breath, I began to struggle. Edward was brutal; there was no tenderness or respect, he was simply doing his duty to consummate the marriage and taking what was rightfully his in law. There was no love for me, there never was.’ Isabella covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

Hal, his heart full of hatred towards Isabella’s dead husband, held her tightly, murmuring soothing words of comfort. When her breathing began to return to normal, he kissed her, and went to pour her a glass of wine. After she had sipped it, he took her into his arms once more. When he could speak with
moderation
, he said in a bitter voice, ‘I wish I could repay him for what he did to you, my darling. If he were not already dead, I would take pleasure in sending him to hell.’

‘Harriet is aware of what happened that night, but I have never had the courage to fully articulate what he did,’
whispered
Isabella. ‘When it was over, he left without a word. I lay there in shock until eventually, I managed to wash myself – I needed to cleanse the feel of his body from mine. When I crawled back into bed, I was afraid to go to sleep in case he returned.’

‘You must have felt very frightened, and completely alone.’

She agreed, and said, ‘Next morning, I went downstairs with trepidation. There was still a spark of hope that the previous night was an aberration on Edward’s part and that he would be remorseful when sober. However, what I had witnessed then was the real man and not the façade that I had been shown during his courtship. He treated me with the same disdain. He said my father’s property would be sold and I was to be allowed only a few personal possessions from the contents. I did not dare to argue with him.’

‘Did he touch you again?’ asked Hal, emotion choking his voice.

Isabella nodded. ‘Several times, usually when he had been drinking heavily. I tried to lock the door but he was furious and sheared off the lock. After that, I was too fearful to try again – I thought he might kill me in his rage – so I – I …’

She fell silent, as did Hal, but he held her close, allowing her time to cope with recounting these memories aloud.

‘I dealt with his visits the only way I could – I made no sound and lay completely still until it was over. I hated him, truly hated him,’ continued Isabella, another shudder running through her body. ‘At first, he remained silent and implacable, but gradually my lack of reaction infuriated him even more. He railed at me that I was frigid, that I had no idea how to please a man and he taunted me with how his mistress, whom I later discovered was a woman in the village, knew how to gratify his desires.’

‘God, so he pushed his deficiencies on you as well,’ he exclaimed through gritted teeth. ‘He was not worthy of being called a man – he was a cruel, vicious monster.’

‘I know,’ she acknowledged with a sigh. ‘My salvation came when, after four months of marriage, I told him I was expecting a child. I wondered if the news might alter Edward, but he made no comment when he heard. However, from that day on he did not venture near me again. Perhaps he thought he had done his duty in producing a child or found more pleasure in the arms of his mistress. Whatever the reason, I was profoundly grateful. My pregnancy was fortunately free of problems and Edward allowed Dr Dalton, who became a good friend, to tend me throughout. Dr Dalton was not fooled by Edward; he had only recently returned to the area but he had previously been the Vane family physician and was aware of Edward’s caprices. He had great sympathy for my situation and, when I reached my time of confinement, I was glad Dr Dalton was there.’

‘Was he – your husband – there?’ Hal could not bring himself to mention the name.

‘Edward was away in London, drinking himself into a stupor,’ she replied. ‘His drinking and gambling were increasing as he spent my dowry and the money released by the sale of my father’s estates. When Dominic was born, only Dr Dalton and Mary were with me. There was no loving husband waiting anxiously for news – Edward would not have cared if I had lived or died – and yet, Dominic’s birth was my only joyful moment during those years. From that moment on, I had someone who depended on me completely and that knowledge gave me a renewed sense of purpose.’

‘What a burden of sadness you have borne, sweetheart,’ he said, ‘Little wonder that you retreated from the world, yet I sensed the warmth underneath your cool diffidence when we met, and felt protective towards you even then. Did his
behaviour
improve after Dominic’s birth?’

‘No, it grew worse. He either ignored me or flew into a drunken, towering rage, calling me a soulless witch, unfeeling and unnatural.’ Isabella gave a little shrug. ‘Strange to say it, but I grew used to his
behaviour
. I did not fear physical violence: any signs that he had struck me would be visible and he wanted no talk in the village. Edward had a perverted, magnified sense of pride in the Vane family name and would have been mortified had his treatment of me become public knowledge. So his behaviour was restrained to verbal taunts or to ignoring me. I could tolerate the latter, and learnt to deal with the former by
cultivating
an air of apparent indifference.’

She paused to take a sip of wine and then slipped her hand into his. ‘To be subjected to daily taunts, insults and criticism can be just as effective as physical punishment, and any confidence I possessed fell away under Edward’s malicious tongue. However, my pride would not let him see that he was succeeding, so I learned to keep my feelings hidden from everyone … until I met you.’

‘Thank God!’ muttered Hal. ‘I’ll be eternally grateful to Freddy for insisting I went to Lady Pargeter’s that evening.’

‘And Harriet has my gratitude for insisting that I accompany her,’ replied Isabella, with a wistful smile. ‘As for Dominic, Edward was neither proud of nor pained by his arrival into the world. I suppose Dominic received more affection than Edward gave to any other creature in that he did not like to see him ill, or hurt, but his fondness extended little further. On one occasion, when Edward did not know he was being observed by me, I watched him trying to play with Dominic in the garden. However, his father was effectively a stranger so Dominic was afraid and would not join in. That was the only time I saw any kindness in Edward. Drinking and gambling were now his consuming passions and, although I did not know it then, he was also heavily in debt. Life at Vane Manor became even more intolerable.’

‘Did you ever think of leaving?’ he asked.

‘Many times, but I had nowhere to go – Harriet could not afford to support us – and I could have found myself in even worse circumstances. As long as there was no immediate danger to myself or Dominic, I could bear it. I corresponded with Harriet regularly and told her a little of my circumstances. Eventually, when matters deteriorated still further, I poured out the whole of my situation and Harriet, leaving behind her comfortable life without a qualm, came to live at Vane Manor. I was astonished that Edward agreed, but he said that having Harriet there would keep me and the child out of his way. When Harriet saw exactly what circumstances I was living under, she was appalled.’

‘At least you had someone to help you,’ he said, raking his fingers through his hair.

‘Harriet gave me much needed comfort, and moral support. By then, we were social outcasts to most of local society and I was not sorry for that, being too embarrassed and saddened to care. Harriet and I spoke on many occasions of how I might escape, but there seemed no way out. We had little money between us and, according to the law, I was Edward’s wife – even if we had escaped, Dominic and I would have had to live in fear of discovery and I’m ashamed to say I did not have the courage to do it.’

‘Don’t be critical of your actions, Isabella. It is understandable why you could not escape his tyranny then.’

‘I think we would have eventually, but, as often happens, matters reached a crisis one night.’

Feeling a violent shiver run through her, he whispered, ‘Do you want to continue? It can wait until another time.’

‘I must go on, Hal. It is cathartic and perhaps the
circumstances
surrounding Edward’s death will no longer hold any fear for me if I can describe them.’

He kissed her forehead and waited.

Isabella stared into the fire for a while and then said, ‘It was a Friday evening. Harriet and Dominic were staying overnight at the home of one of my few acquaintances. Alicia Knowles was a childhood friend who had married a local landowner. They had a child, a son of Dominic’s age, whom Dominic loved to play with. I did not see them often because they made no secret of their dislike of Edward. However, they sometimes invited Harriet, Dominic and me to spend the day at their property. I enjoyed those visits very much, but when on one occasion they asked us to stay overnight, Edward would not allow me to accompany Harriet and Dominic. At that point, I had no inkling that I should be worried and was just pleased that Dominic would enjoy another child’s company. I should have wondered if there was a reason behind Edward’s decision.

‘He had taken to inviting his unsavoury friends to the manor, to join him in all night card games where the wine and the bets flowed freely. Harriet and I stayed well away from these events, but, unknown to me, Edward had arranged for one of these gatherings to take place that Friday night. When I realized this, I was a little afraid because I was alone in the house; Harriet and Dominic were, of course, away and Mary had gone to visit her mother in the village. The other servants knew their place and would not intervene. So I went to my room, determined to remain out of the way until the morning.

‘For hours, I listened to drunken laughter and curses emanating from downstairs – I was too nervous to sleep and had decided to sit by the fire and read. Edward came to my room in the early hours. I knew his friends were still downstairs, so I did not imagine that he wanted me in that way – he had not touched me since discovering I was expecting Dominic. He had drunk so much he had difficulty standing and, in a slurred voice, told me that he had lost at cards until he had been forced to lay a wager with his one remaining asset – me.’