The Lavender Garden (21 page)

•  •  •

Eventually, when Emilie had been reduced to reading numerous out-of-date copies of
Horse & Hound
, Sebastian reentered the drawing room looking harassed and apologetic in equal measure.

“So sorry, darling. I had a few things to sort out. Would you like a cup of tea? I could certainly do with one.”

“What’s wrong?” Emilie went to him and he folded his arms around her.

“Oh, nothing out of the ordinary, for this house, at least. I was right. Mrs. Erskine has handed in her notice and gone off home in high dudgeon, swearing never to return. She’ll come back, of course. She always does.”

“Why has she left?”

“That, Emilie, is something I want to try and explain to you over a hot drink.”

Each furnished with a large mug of hot tea, and sitting comfortably on a couple of big cushions by the fire, Sebastian began to explain.

“I want to tell you about my brother, Alex. And I’m warning you, it’s a story I don’t enjoy relaying. I’m feeling bad I haven’t told you before, actually, but then it never seemed relevant. Up until today, anyway.”

“Then tell me now.”

“Right. So”—Sebastian took a sip of his tea—“I’ve already told you our mother dumped us here on our granny when we were toddlers, then disappeared off into the blue yonder. Alex is eighteen months younger than me. And we’re polar opposites, rather like Falk and Frederik from the sound of things. As you know, I like to be organized, whereas Alex has always been a . . . free spirit, constantly searching, not prepared or even able to live with routine. Anyway, we were both sent to boarding school, and whereas I loved it and thrived, Alex struggled. He got himself expelled and messed up his university place by getting himself a drink-driving conviction. Then, when he was eighteen, he took himself off abroad and we heard nothing from him for a good few years.”

“Where did he go?”

“We really had no idea, until one day Granny had a call from a hospital in France. Alex had apparently overdosed on heroin. He’d been near death’s door when someone had found him, but he’d just pulled through.” Sebastian sighed. “So Granny flew over to get him and put him into a private rehab clinic here in England. To be fair to him, Alex was as good as his word and came home clean. But then he disappeared abroad again and we didn’t see him back until after Granny had died. I think I need a stiff drink. You?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Sebastian left the room and Emilie stood up to close the curtains against the still-falling snow. As she sat back down and stared into the red-hot flames of the fire, Emilie felt sympathy for her new husband. His brother sounded dreadful.

Sebastian came back with a gin and tonic and lay back in Emilie’s arms. She stroked his hair. “What happened next?”

“Well, just after Granny’s death, when Alex had finally returned home and moved back in here, we had a flaming row. He headed for the car and I offered to drive him as I knew he was drunk, but he insisted on driving himself. I foolishly got in the car with him, and a few miles down the road on a particularly notorious bend, he took the corner wide and smashed into a car coming in the opposite direction. My brother sustained serious injuries. I had the luck of the blind and escaped with cracked ribs, a broken arm, and whiplash.”

“Oh my God!” Emilie breathed to herself. “You poor, poor thing.”

“As I said, it was Alex who took the worst of it.”

“How sad.” Emilie shook her head. She looked at him. “You should have told me all of this before, Sebastian.”

“Yes, and given you the chance to get out of marrying me before it was too late.” He smiled harshly.

“No! I didn’t mean that. But I’ve learned from you that it always helps to share our problems, not keep them to ourselves.”

“Yes, you’re right. You know, the tragedy is that Alex was always so bright. Far brighter than me. He sailed through his exams having done no work, whereas I’ve had to slog for everything I’ve ever had. Alex could have had it all if he hadn’t been so messed up and irresponsible.”

“I often think people who are too bright suffer as much as those who struggle. My father always said gifts were best in moderation. Too much or too little of anything brings problems.”

“It sounds like you had a very wise father, and I would have very much liked to have met him.” Sebastian kissed her on the nose and looked up at her. “So, there we are. The story of my errant brother. Now then, you must be starving. Why don’t you come into the kitchen with me while I knock something up from the fridge? At least it’s warm in there with the range going full pelt. And then I suggest we both retire to our icebox of a bedroom. I’m sure we can think of ways to keep warm.” Sebastian pulled her up from the floor with him. “Come on, let’s eat as quickly as possible and then go upstairs.”

As he led her along the icy corridors toward the kitchen, Emilie felt she simply had to ask: ‘So where is Alex now?”

“Didn’t I say?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“He’s here, of course. Alex lives here at Blackmoor Hall.”

E
milie woke early the next morning, having had an unsettled night. This was partly to do with the biting cold, the like of which she’d never before experienced. She felt as if her freezing bones would snap at any moment. Sebastian had apologized profusely, explaining that the ancient heating wasn’t working because someone had forgot to fill up the oil tank, and that he would sort it out as soon as possible.

Emilie moved her icy toes surreptitiously onto the warmth of Sebastian’s shin. The room was completely shrouded in darkness, not a chink of light coming through the fading damask curtains. She wondered if Sebastian would mind if they could sleep with the curtains drawn back. She’d always slept with the windows naked, enjoying waking to the mellow light of a new day.

Emilie mulled over what Sebastian had told her of his brother, Alex, the previous night. After dropping the bombshell that he lived at Blackmoor Hall, Sebastian had explained that he’d suffered a broken back in the car crash and was now confined to a wheelchair. A carer lived with him full-time in a specially converted flat on the ground floor of the east wing.

“Of course, it costs a fortune to have him looked after, not to mention the renovation that was needed to accommodate a disabled person, but what else could I do?” Sebastian had sighed. “Anyway, please don’t worry about Alex. He keeps to himself and rarely ventures into the main house.”

“Has he been able to steer clear of drugs and alcohol since the accident?” Emilie had asked tentatively.

“Mainly, yes. But we’ve been through a succession of carers, two of which I had to get rid of after they’d been coerced by my brother into supplying him with alcohol. Alex can be extremely charming and very persuasive if he wants to be.”

Despite her husband’s reassurances about the separateness of
Alex’s existence, Emilie shuddered when she contemplated this drug-dependent paraplegic who lived—whether in a separate apartment or not—very clearly under the same roof.

Sebastian had also mentioned that Alex was a consummate liar. “Don’t believe anything he tells you, Emilie. My brother can convince the brightest mind that black is white.”

•  •  •

“Sweetheart?”

Emilie felt a warm hand snake toward her. “Yes?”

“Christ!” Sebastian exclaimed as he felt Emilie’s shoulder, shrouded in all the layers of clothes she’d put on during the night. “You’re wrapped up like a pass-the-parcel.” He laughed. “Come here and give me a hug.”

As Emilie settled into his deliciously warm embrace and he began to kiss her, any early-morning fears that had assailed her melted away.

•  •  •

“I doubt it’s a day for sightseeing,” Sebastian commented as they stood in the kitchen drinking coffee and looking at the hillocks of snow piled up outside the window. “I reckon it’s a good foot deep, and that sky is threatening further falls. I’m going to call Jake, my farmer neighbor, and see if he’ll bring his tractor here to clear the drive. Supplies are running low and I’ll need to get out to the village shop to get us some essentials. How about I install you in the drawing room with a nice fire? There’s a library along the corridor, and I’m sure you can find yourself a book to keep yourself amused.”

“Okay,” agreed Emilie, feeling she didn’t have much option.

“And I’ll see about having some oil delivered so we can get the central heating going again. It’s so bloody expensive these days, and most of the heat seems to disappear through the rotting window frames.” He sighed. “Sorry, darling. As I said, I’ve rather taken my eye off the work-and-home ball in the past few months.”

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

“No, but I appreciate the offer. I’ll also pop in and visit Mrs. Erskine, our ex-housekeeper, while I’m in the village and see if I can persuade her to return. I promise I’ll have things back on track in the
next couple of days.” They walked together along the corridor to the drawing room. “You must wonder where the hell I’ve brought you to,” he added as he bent to clear the grate. “It gets better, I swear. This is a beautiful part of the world, truly it is.”

“Let me do that.” Emilie knelt next to Sebastian. “You go off and do what you need to.”

“Are you sure? Sorry about the lack of servants around here,” he teased. “I know it’s not what you’re used to.”

“Sebastian . . .” Emilie reddened. “I can learn.”

“Of course you can, only joking. And feel free to explore the house, although what you’ll see will probably horrify you. It makes your old château look positively modern!” Sebastian grimaced and left the room.

Clad in two of Sebastian’s thick fisherman’s jumpers, Emilie spent an hour wandering around the house. Many of the rooms upstairs had obviously not been used for years, and unlike the huge château windows built to let in as much light as possible, the small mean ones of this house were designed to keep out the cold. The dreary colors and heavy mahogany furniture were reminiscent of walking onto the set of an Edwardian play.

As she wandered back downstairs, Emilie was aware of how desperately this house needed taking in hand. But, like the château, it would be a huge renovation project. And she realized she had no idea how much money Sebastian had to fund it. However, it hardly mattered; Emilie knew her finances were healthy and they had enough money to live as they wished for the rest of their lives.

Back in the drawing room, Emilie again pondered why she had never thought to ask about the exact state of Sebastian’s finances before she’d married him. Not that she regarded it as relevant to her decision, but now that she was his wife, it was important she knew. Perhaps she’d broach the subject later on, she thought, as she saw both the tractor and Sebastian in the Land Rover behind it make their slippery way up the drive and away from the house.

By lunchtime, Emilie was hungry and bored, so she took herself off to the kitchen to see what she could find in the fridge to eat. Making a sandwich with the last remaining crust of a loaf of bread, she sat down at the table to eat it. As she did so, she heard a door slam loudly
from somewhere in the house and a raised voice. This time it was female. The door to the kitchen opened and a scrawny, middle-aged woman appeared through it.

“Is Mr. Carruthers here? I need to see him immediately.”

Emilie could see the woman was shaking with anger. “No, I’m afraid you’ve missed him. He’s gone to the village.”

“Who are you?” the woman asked rudely.

“I’m Emilie, Sebastian’s wife.”

“Really? Well, all I can say is good luck to you! And as you’re his wife, you can tell him from me that I resign as of now. I’m not taking any more of his brother’s rudeness. Or violence! He’s just thrown a boiling-hot cup of coffee at me. If I hadn’t moved out of the way, I could have suffered third-degree burns on my arms. I’ve called my friend who has a four-wheel drive, and she’s coming to collect me within the hour. I will not stay another minute in this godforsaken house with that . . .
madman
!”

“I see. I’m so sorry.” Emilie noticed the woman was slurring slightly, probably due to anger. “Can I offer you a drink? Perhaps we should talk about it before you leave. I’m sure Sebastian won’t be long—”

“There’s not a thing you or he could say to make me change my mind,” the woman interrupted her. “He’s persuaded me before and I’ve regretted it. I just hope for your sake your husband doesn’t dump his brother on you. Having said that, I can’t imagine you’ll find anyone else to fill the post. You know Mrs. Erskine’s walked out too?”

“Yes, but my husband says she’ll be coming back.”

“Well, more fool her. She’s a nice lady, and it’s only out of loyalty to their grandmother that she stays. I knew Constance when I was a young’un and lived in this village. Lovely woman she was, but what those two boys have put her through doesn’t bear thinking about. Any road, not my problem anymore. I’ll be off to pack. He’s had his lunch, so he should be all right by himself until your husband gets back. I’d let him be at the moment, anyway. Wait until that temper of his dies down. It normally does.”

“Right.” Emilie didn’t know what else to say.

The woman obviously saw the fear in her eyes, for her own softened suddenly. “Don’t worry, love, Alex is all right really, just gets frustrated, like we all would if we was him. He’s a good lad at heart, and he’s
had a rough time of it. But I’m too old to be doing with it all. I want a nice, calm geriatric to take care of, not a volatile little boy who’s never grown up.”

All Emilie could think of was that this woman was leaving before Sebastian returned. Consequently, Emilie would be left alone in an unknown and forbidding house, which—due to the snow—she could not escape from. With an as yet unseen, drunken, paraplegic lunatic. Currently her new life resembled something out of a horror film, and Emilie had a sudden desperate urge to giggle at the ridiculousness of it.

“Anyway, congratulations on your marriage, love,” said the woman.

“Thank you.” Emilie smiled ironically.

The woman walked toward the kitchen door, then stopped and turned back. “I hope for your sake you knew what you were taking on. Good-bye.”