The Master's Wife (27 page)

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Authors: Jane Jackson

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‘You know it does. How could it not? But my father would never allow it. Me go travelling with an unmarried man? Heavens above,’ she mocked bitterly, ‘what would people say?’

‘Yes, about that, the thing is, I was thinking – please don’t answer now. You may want time to –’

‘Robert,’ Caseley heard Antonia’s all-too-familiar impatience and exasperation. ‘How can I answer when I have no idea what the question is?’

‘Of course you – though this wasn’t – but –’

‘For goodness’ sake, Robert!’

‘All right, here it is then.’ He took a breath then blurted, ‘Will you marry me? Wait, let me finish. When we get back, your father will want to ship you off out of harm’s way. I understand his concerns. But I can’t leave. There has been too much distortion and too many lies printed already. No doubt it is selfish of me, but I should very much like you to stay as my wife. Will you at least consider it? We get along well. I admire your talent too much to ever try and stop you pursuing it. Indeed, I should like to see you achieve the recognition you deserve. Working with me will afford you opportunities to reach a much wider audience. I was thinking, in time, maybe a book? A collaboration?’

Caseley opened her eyelids a fraction and saw Antonia gazing at him, her features slack with astonishment. Then she looked down at her clasped hands.

‘I know I’m no one’s idea of a romantic figure,’ he pressed on. ‘But I have dreams and ambitions. I care about this country. I care about you. Probably more than is wise, but there it is.’

Touched by his honesty, Caseley closed her eyes again before unexpected tears betrayed her.

‘I know you are unhappy and want more from life,’ he continued with quiet urgency. Having plucked up the courage to start, clearly he intended to say everything that had been building up inside him. If he failed it would not be for want of trying.

‘I would support you in that. I think – no, I truly believe – we would make a good team. I don’t have your artistic temperament. But I consider that an advantage. Emotion and creativity need the balance of pragmatism. Were we alike we would probably kill each other.’

Caseley heard the smile in his voice. Robert Pawlyn’s insight surprised her. Yet it shouldn’t. He had shown deeper understanding and compassion for the problems of this country than anyone else she had met. He also saw something in Antonia beyond her talent with a camera.

‘I – I’m not an easy person, Robert.’

‘I know that. But you’ve not had an easy life. I hope you will forgive my suggesting that you yearn to
belong
. In such circumstances it is very easy to mistake a mirage for reality. The thing is, true happiness is only found with someone who understands you, who loves you enough to let you be yourself.’

Caseley had never questioned the truth of that. She’d never had reason to. But everything was different now. For so many months she had been unable to imagine ever being happy again. Yet the desert had given her what she least expected – peace.

It was a land of sand, bare rock, heat and thirst, where a camel and water jar were all that stood between between life and death. Yet amid the harshness she had found friendship, acceptance and shared experience.

Two nights ago, sitting on a rock with Jago, she had looked up into a vast black sky sprinkled with stars as numberless as the sand grains at her feet and felt a loosening of the constriction around her heart.

She had been ravaged by grief, guilt and rage. Time and this journey had blunted the raw edges. Now there were moments in each day when she actually forgot those terrible weeks. Then a sight, smell or sound would bring it all flooding back, sometimes so sharp, so brutally vivid it stopped her breath. The bad memories would always be there. But she could bear them. And now she could focus on good ones, too: golden treasures that would never fade or tarnish.

‘You make me sound selfish,’ Antonia said.

Caseley wondered if Jago was listening. She kept her eyes closed, her breathing steady, anxious not to embarrass Antonia or Robert Pawlyn by revealing she could hear their conversation.

‘If you are, I think it’s because you’re unhappy. A happy person finds it easy to be generous. Their happiness warms everyone they have contact with. Being happy makes it easier to shrug off irritations, ignore discomfort and deal with difficulties.’

Caseley knew that for a fact.

‘I have never felt like that.’

‘Then surely it’s time that you did?’

‘You make it sound easy.’ She sounded wistful.

‘Being happy is a choice, Antonia. Of course there will be problems. And pain. Life is full of challenges. How dull and boring it would be without them. The happiness I’m talking about is the kind that grows between two people whose differences complement one another, who are stronger together than they are apart.’

Jago hadn’t moved but Caseley sensed he was awake. Robert Pawlyn’s words pierced deep into her soul. They perfectly described how she had felt about Jago, about her marriage. But that had been
before
. She was no longer the woman he married. There was no going back. They could only move forward, trusting in their love for each other. Antonia’s voice broke into her thoughts.

‘It never occurred to me – Do you really think – you and I –?’

‘If I did not think so, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I don’t expect you to share all my opinions. I want a wife, not an echo. Fortunately I know you well enough to have no fears on that score. I should enjoy talking to you about my work, and I hope very much you will want to share yours with me. Together we could create something special.’

‘You aren’t just being kind? About my photographs?’

‘No, I’m not. Were I to be so foolish I would forfeit your trust.’

‘You really would take me with you on assignments?’

‘Haven’t I just said so?’

‘Yes. But that’s now. How can I be sure that once we are married you won’t suddenly decide it’s too dangerous, or you prefer to go alone and I should remain at home and cook or sew –’

He laughed. ‘Have you ever cooked anything?’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘You have my word, Antonia.’ The silence stretched and Caseley had to fight the urge to open her eyes.

‘It is very tempting.’

‘Then say –’

‘No, wait. You took me by surprise. I want to be fair, Robert. I don’t love you.’

‘Not right at this moment. But I believe you will, in time. We’re friends and that’s a start. I’m good for you, Antonia, and I’ll be good to you.’

‘My father – my father dislikes very much that people talk about me. He says it reflects badly on him. Before we left he announced that marriage to his aide, Spencer Blaine, would put an end to the gossip and settle me down.’

‘Is that what you want?’

‘Of course it isn’t. How can you even ask? Spencer cares nothing for me. I embarrass him. But he’s ambitious, so he would even put up with me if it gained him my father’s good opinion. He need not worry. I wouldn’t marry him if he were the last man in Egypt.’

‘Bravo. You deserve better.’

Silence fell. To Pawlyn it must have seemed endless.

‘Thank you, Robert, I accept.’

‘You do?’ Relief, surprise and delight combined to lift his voice an octave. He cleared his throat. ‘Right. Jolly good. As soon as I’ve been to the telegraph office I’ll come to the Consulate and speak to your father.’

It was early evening when the train arrived at Alexandria station. They parted company outside. Handing Caseley into the first calèche, Jago listened as Antonia gave the driver the address of the Consulate, then followed in the second with the luggage. Pawlyn took a third.

‘While you were asleep,’ Antonia turned to Caseley as the horse clopped briskly along the street, ‘Robert asked me to marry him.’

Caseley felt guilty about pretending ignorance, but Antonia would be unlikely to forgive her for having overheard. ‘Have you accepted?’

‘Yes.’

‘I hope – no, I am sure – you will be very happy. Though I haven’t known Mr Pawlyn very long, he impressed me as kind and sincere.’

‘I shall certainly enjoy working with him. He wants me to take photographs to illustrate his articles, and later for us to work together on a book.’

Impulsively, Caseley pressed her hand. ‘How exciting.’

‘Actually, it is.’ Antonia blew out a breath. ‘Although – I daresay you will think me foolish and ungrateful – but it is not the love match I dreamed of.’


His
feelings must be deeply engaged or he would not have proposed. For him it is definitely a love match.’

Antonia shrugged. ‘He is my consolation prize.’

‘Forgive me, Antonia, but he deserves better from you. Surely having stayed with the Bedouin and seen the importance to them of their way of life, you must see that your dream of a future with Sheikh Imad was simply a mirage? It had no connection to reality. You have received an offer of marriage from a kind, intelligent man who recognises your talent. Compare him to Mr Blaine, who would never take your side against your father and to whom your photography is an embarrassment, he would expect you to give up the day you married.’

Antonia shuddered. ‘Hell will freeze first!’

‘Then be grateful for Robert Pawlyn. Not only does he support your passion, he wants to use it to complement his own work. Can you not see what a compliment that is?’ As the words left her lips, she recalled sitting at the table in Jago’s day cabin aboard
Cygnet,
writing letters in Spanish on his behalf, talking about cargoes at breakfast and discussing repairs to company ships and potential expansion at the yard over dinner at home on Greenbank.

‘Don’t you get bored with always being right?’ The ironic tone of her retort showed Antonia had accepted her point.

‘He’s a good man, who cares deeply for you.’

‘But do I deserve it?’

Hearing genuine fear beneath Antonia’s flippancy, Caseley squeezed her hand briefly. ‘He obviously thinks so. Trust him, and trust yourself.’

Antonia blew a slow breath. ‘I’m scared,’ she admitted. ‘But I won’t let it stop me.’

Caseley smiled at her. ‘I should hope not.’

They arrived at the Consulate. While Jago paid both drivers, two servants came out to pick up the luggage and camera equipment. Antonia followed them inside. Caseley and Jago entered the building together. Spencer Blaine came out of the general office and stopped, visibly shocked.

‘You have been out in public like that? Your father will be appalled.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Spencer. Dressing in English fashion would have put us at risk of being attacked. Would you have us sacrifice our safety to appearances?’

His face flushed crimson. ‘There is no need to be offensive. I am only too aware that you have little patience with protocol. However, we have a reputation to maintain, and –’

‘What is all the noise?’ Sir Douglas stopped halfway down the staircase. ‘Good Lord!’

‘I was just telling Miss Collingwood my concern –’

‘Yes, I heard. Normally I would agree with you. However, on this rare occasion my daughter has shown uncommon good sense.’

Antonia lifted her chin and Caseley felt a pang of sympathy. Sir Douglas’s remark revealed his attitude towards his daughter. At best impatient, at worst contemptuous, it certainly helped to explain her prickly attitude.

While respecting Antonia’s fierce devotion to her photography, Caseley hadn’t realised what it must have cost her to continue when faced with constant belittling. Robert Pawlyn had seen through her defensiveness to her courage, and loved her for it.

Sir Douglas came down the stairs, his gaze passing briefly over each of them. He gave a brief nod. ‘Though I dislike the necessity of such disguise, current circumstances make it a sensible decision. Well, Captain Barata? Were you successful?’

‘We did our best, sir.’

The diplomat’s expectant smile faded. ‘Considering the value of the gold involved, I expected a more definite result.’

‘As I say, sir, we did our best. Sheikh Imad graciously acted as intermediary, and Mr Pawlyn’s knowledge of the language and customs proved invaluable.’

‘Dealing with such people is impossible –’ Spencer Blaine began.

‘The Bedouin could not have been more generous or hospitable.’ Jago ignored the interruption, his gaze on the Assistant Consul. ‘We were welcomed into their tents and treated as honoured guests. The elders discussed our proposal at great length. By the time we left, opinion seemed to be turning in our favour.’

‘Why did you not stay longer? Another day or two might have secured the agreement.’

Caseley remembered what Pawlyn had told her. Unexpected guests – even enemies – were welcomed for three days with no questions asked or payment requested.

‘Sheikh Imad had business back in Cairo. Besides, pressing for a commitment might have had the opposite effect.’

‘Then all we can do is hope.’ He beckoned to his daughter. ‘Antonia, here in the Consulate you are on English sovereign territory. I suggest you go up and change.’ He turned back to Jago. ‘Captain Barata, you are to carry Mrs Williamson and two Maltese gentlemen to Port Said. Admiral Seymour has threatened to bombard the city –’

‘I am aware of the threat, sir. We learned of it on our return to Cairo.’

‘Yes, but what you don’t know is that Sir Charles is out of hospital and has been called to meet with our Consul-General in Cairo, leaving me in charge. By the time you have changed your clothes, a calèche will be outside to convey you and my aide –’

‘With respect, Sir Douglas, I am not going to Port Said. I’m taking my wife home to Cornwall.’

‘It was not a request, Captain Barata. As the accredited representative of Her Majesty’s government whose business brought you here, I am giving you a direct order.’

‘My wife –’

‘Will await your swift return. The distance is not great, 121 nautical miles, according to Blaine’s calculations. You will be back in less than a week.’

Caseley laid her hand on Jago’s arm, feeling rigid muscles vibrating with barely suppressed fury. ‘The sooner you go then the sooner you will return. I will wait for you at the hotel –’

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