The Lodestone (40 page)

“An old friend? Won’t you tell me who it is?”

He smiled. “I should like to surprise you, I think. And you must be cordial. I want you to make him feel welcome.”

“I shall certainly try,” she replied, determined to control her emotions.
Someone from home, someone with whom she had mutual acquaintances.
If it was someone she could trust, she would confide in him and beg him to help her get back to England.

**

“Dear God!” Garnett exclaimed, almost like a prayer. “Edwina!”

She looked beautiful in a simple summer gown of midnight blue, her black hair piled high upon her head. Her cheeks were touched lightly with pink, which Garnett saw was subtle but artificial; and it made him wonder if perhaps she wasn’t happy with her count. She looked older than her eighteen years—all grown up and exotically lovely in the glow of candlelight—and she was smiling warmly up at him. It quite took his breath away, especially when he thought of Paolo’s unusual proposal. In spite of the sadness that shadowed her face, or perhaps because of it, Edwina had turned into a ravishing young woman; and he wondered how her husband, his disability notwithstanding, could even consider allowing another man to touch her.

“Garnett,” she said softly, her voice carefully controlled and not at all like the ebullient Edwina he’d come to know. “How wonderful to see you again.” She glanced at Paolo, who was smiling, amusement flickering in his eyes.

“Well, I must say!” Garnett was having trouble taking it in. “I must
say
! I am that surprised to see you. Paolo didn’t tell me it was you he married. When . . . how on earth did it come about?”

“Not long after you left London,” Edwina replied. “Paolo quite swept me off my feet.” Garnett detected a touch of irony in her tone, but she was keeping a firm grip on her emotions. Paolo suggested they go in to dinner.

Servants brought in a feast and laid it before them—everything all at once instead of individual courses—and then they slipped away discreetly. Edwina nibbled at the food Paolo piled on her plate, tentatively at first, and then she attacked it with gusto. It was as if she had not eaten anything in days. For the first time, Garnett noticed how thin she had become.

“I’m surprised to see you as well, Garnett,” she told him between bites. “Whatever are you doing in Italy?”

Garnett explained to Edwina how, when his father lost almost everything, Drake offered him a job. After her murmured solicitude, they talked about Garnett’s travels and life on the island. Although it was rumored that Italy would soon erupt in revolution, Paolo made it clear he didn’t care to discuss anything distressing. He wanted nothing to spoil their happy reunion.

“I have explained to my dear wife the arrangement we worked out earlier,” he said at length. “We are both delighted it is you with whom we are doing business.”

“Indeed.” Garnett knew he had to try and see Edwina in a different light if he was to go through with the bargain he’d made with her husband. He knew she and Cleome had been involved in Mrs. Godwin’s politics and were both enthusiastic about her philosophy but he’d never thought the lovely little sprite capable of what she and Paolo were proposing. It was difficult to picture Edwina as a proponent of free love, but she was beautiful. It would not be an unpleasant chore at all. But only, he told himself, if she really was willing.

**

The two men sipped brandy as Edwina played her piano, relishing every note as if it would be the last. At the end of an hour, as she ended a Beethoven sonata, Paolo rose.

“Thank you, my dear,” he said. “And now, let us say good night.”

“Very well,” she responded, not quite believing she would so easily escape her husband’s mischief. She placed her hand on Garnett’s arm. “I am so glad to see you,” she told him. “I hope we can talk again before you go back to England.”

“You will, my dear. Garnett has agreed to stay with us for a few days,” Paolo told her as he escorted her to the door. Then he leaned closer and added, “You have made me very proud, contessa. You’ll find a lovely new gown in the lilac bedroom. Go now, put it on and wait there. Tonight we shall conceive our child.”

“As you wish,” she said, resigned, as she left the room. She did not look at Garnett, who had heard the count’s declaration to her, and her acquiescence.

**

The dress Paolo had selected for her was as transparent as the black one she had worn the night the doctor examined her. This one was sky blue and although studded with pearls in strategic places, it left little to the imagination. Her thoughtful
esposo
had also left a small plate of the chocolates, probably laced with laudanum or opium, in the large, elegant bedroom they’d shared during her first few days and nights at the villa.

Well
, she thought,
if it will please my husband to make love to me at last, I will wear the silly dress and pray that he will get me with child immediately.
By becoming the soul of cooperation, she might take him off guard and find a way to speak privately with Garnett. If Garnett knew the details of her bizarre marriage, he would surely help her get home. Cleome would gladly give her sanctuary, as would Uncle Oliver; and if she did have a baby, at least the child would be safe from the father’s odd behavior. Edwina didn’t mind a baby so much, and if she could conceive this first time, perhaps her husband would leave her in peace. He had married her only to get an heir and time was running out. It should be no surprise that he was ready at last to take the appropriate action, to “see to it” as he had said.

She ate one of the bon bons, grateful for the oblivion it offered. She no longer hoped to find pleasure in the consummation of her marriage. She simply wanted to get it over with. When a soft knock came at the door, she was quite relaxed and lying back, she hoped invitingly, on the chaise lounge where the doctor had examined her.

“Come in,” she called. She was stunned when the door opened and Garnett stepped into the room. “Where’s Paolo?” she mumbled drowsily. “Why have you come?”

He stared at her, speechless; and she realized he might be embarrassed by her husband’s choice of fashion. Struggling up from the chaise, she took a fringed shawl from the foot of the bed and pulled it around herself.

At last, Garnett replied. “Paolo said you would be expecting me.”

“You?” Edwina responded vaguely. It took a moment for her to comprehend. “Oh . . . I see. I see what he has in mind. Am I the business arrangement of which he spoke? Has he persuaded you, then, to fulfill the duty he finds so detestable?”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” Garnett spoke quietly but she could see he was angry. “I thought you knew and were in agreement.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, her words slow and precise. “My husband has ways of achieving his ends. He must have an heir or he will lose everything. Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll pay you handsomely to get me with child.”

“He told me you wanted this as much as he does.”

The bitter irony of it disarmed her and she replied honestly. “Dear Garnett. I’ve wanted you since the day we met. But Paolo wouldn’t know that. Only Cleome knows . . .” her voice trailed off sadly, but she forced herself to go on. “How odd that I had to marry someone else to have you!”

Suddenly, she started laughing, a wild, disturbing laugh. As she sank back to the low couch, the shawl slipped from her shoulders to the floor. “Come now,” she said. “Do tell me how much I am worth, on the hoof. My noble husband is obviously as repulsed by me as I am by him. I’d be fascinated to know what sort of fee you’re getting to impregnate his brood mare.”

Laughter bubbled up from her throat again and she thought she sounded quite mad. After a moment, Garnett went to the chaise and gathered her in his arms.

“Hush, dear. Be still. You have it all wrong. Well, at least part of it. Here now, be quiet, little one. I’ll tell you everything. You know, my father lost heavily at the gaming tables and we’re in a desperate situation. Still, I’m a beast to agree to such an arrangement. I had no idea it was you he’d married. And he doesn’t find you repulsive.”

“Then why does he not get me with child himself?”

“Well, Edwina. . . you see . . . he has a physical disability that makes it impossible for him to . . . well, you know. I’m surprised he hasn’t explained at least that much to you. He
would
want to make love to you if he could, believe me. How could he not?”

She looked up, surprised. “Do you?”

“Well, in any other circumstances—”

“Just answer,” she said, looking guilelessly up at him, and getting lost in his eyes. “Do
you
find me desirable, Garnett?”

“Indeed, I do. You have grown into quite an amazing woman.”

Hovering on the edges of a dream, she began to cry, silent sobs punctuated by sparkling tears that flooded her cheeks. Garnett hugged her close. “I hate what I’ve become!” she declared. “He has turned me into a terrified child—a victim he can torment at will.”
“Edwina, you must tell me everything.”

She hung her head. “I cannot,” she replied. “It is too shameful.”

“Your marriage to him was so sudden. How on earth did he convince you?”

“He convinced my mother, and I was naïve enough to think I could use him to escape her. She has had the last word after all, it seems.”

“Has he . . . I beg your pardon, Edwina. Has he . . . hurt you?”

“But you said he is not capable. Do you mean, has he struck me?” Garnett nodded. “Paolo has more brutal and effective ways of getting what he wants. Sometimes he locks up my piano, as Mamma herself advised him to do. And I believe he’s putting laudanum or something like it in my food.”

“You have grown so thin.”

“He keeps changing what he puts it into. This time, it was the bon bons. But I was so hungry, and I must keep up my strength for I am determined to leave him.”

“Of course. You must. Is that all?”
“That’s all I will speak of, Garnett,” she said sadly. “How I long for England and Cleome and Uncle Oliver. What am I to do?”

“You’ll go home, of course. I shall speak to Paolo. Good lord, what if it had not been me he’d asked to . . . to be his surrogate?”

“But it was you,” she said softly. “As if Providence brought you here.”

“Providence? To make the devil’s own bargain, which I did?”

“Why not? You thought your borrowed bride would come to you willingly. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this is a common practice among noblemen.”

He was surprised at her candor. “You, little one, are entirely uncommon.”

“What will you say to him that will make him let me go?”
“For one thing, he can find a more experienced woman to bear him a child by the means he proposes. He can pay well for it. You’ll sail with me in one week.”

“I am so convinced that I advise you to start packing. I’ll go and find him now.” Leaning closer, he kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry, little one. I’ll get you out of this. And do not eat any more of that chocolate.” When he tried to open the door, he found it bolted from the outside. “We’re locked in,” he said.

“My husband thinks of everything.” She was getting drowsy but resisted the need to sleep. “We had best just get it over with.”

“My dear, you don’t know what you’re saying.” He went back to the chaise and wrapped the shawl about her again. Trying not to notice the way her transparent gown revealed her figure, he went on, “I say, you must have a dressing gown or something.”

“Not in here,” she told him. “Paolo selects what I wear in this room.”

Garnett went to the massive wardrobe and pulled it open. It was empty. “Has he ever done this before?”

“Locked me in the bedroom with a consort of his choosing?” she asked. “No. But he has made up his mind that this is to be. He will not unlock the door before morning, I assure you.”

“The servants have gone elsewhere for the evening,” she interrupted. “I never know where they get off to. But they would not dare defy him.”

“He is a monster,” Garnett whispered.

“Perhaps I am the monster,” she conjectured. He looked at her, puzzled. “Paolo does not desire me, and evidently neither do you. What is lacking in me, Garnett?”

“Nothing! You are perfect. With your husband, Edwina, it’s a matter of disability, not lack of desire. As for myself . . . for heaven’s sake, it’s because you are dear little Edwina, who raced with Cleome and me through the park, who helped us build a snowman at Houghton Hall and who dined with me at the Eagle’s Head, not so long ago.” The shawl slipped from her shoulders again. “Certainly not because I don’t desire you.”

“Oh, yes . . . the Eagle’s Head. I remember.” Her tongue felt thick and her words, even to herself, sounded far away. “I’m not that girl anymore,” she said sadly, growing sleepier by the moment. She got up and moved toward the bed but her legs collapsed beneath her as if made of paper. Garnett rushed to help her up, pulling the shawl about her again as he did so. He led her to the bed, helped her to lie down, and tucked the shawl around her.

“Garnett?”
“Yes, little one?”

“I’m so glad you’re here. I wish you could desire me, for I desire you. Will you hold me in your arms until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” He got on the bed with her and sitting back against the carved, gilt headboard he pulled her close.