The Reckoning (98 page)

Through a last opening, and then there she was, sitting on
a stone bench under a high hedge of white roses, whose
blooms made a natural bower round her dark head. The cool
simplicity of her was a refreshment after the exotic colours,
slender in her dress of blue cambric, her hair knotted high,
revealing her long white neck. He gazed at her hungrily,
seeing how her beauty was undiminished. Indeed, as Héloïse
had said, she looked better than he had ever remembered her.
There was a light flush of colour in her cheeks, and a serenity
in her expression that he had never seen before.

Two girl children were playing on the grass in front of her,
and two nursery-maids were looking on, with the proud and restless look of those restraining themselves from removing their charges to the safety of their professional care. One of
the maids looked round and saw him, and Polly, following her
gaze, looked up and saw him too.

Her expression betrayed no emotion but surprise, and
never had the brilliant opacity of her blue gaze been more
frustrating to him. He started across the grass towards her,
and the maids did what they had been longing to do, and
snatched the children up into their arms.

Polly removed her gaze from him for a moment and said
calmly, 'Yes, very well, you may take them away. Go along,
Mary dear, with Harriet, and I shall come and see you
later.’

The maids went away, with sidelong glances at Harvey as
they passed him, and then he was alone with her at last. He
stood before her like a schoolboy presenting himself for
inspection, but more uncertain of himself than any schoolboy
had ever been. Polly's composure was absolute. He hadn't the slightest idea what she was thinking or feeling, or whether his
presence was welcome or unwelcome to her.

‘
Well, Harvey,' she said at last. 'What a surprise to see you
here. I had no idea you were in England.'

‘
I arrived ten days ago. I stayed in London only just long
enough to buy some new shirts and neck-cloths, and then
came north. You look well, Polly. Life here must agree with
you.’

They were being heart-breakingly polite to each other.

‘
It does,' she said. 'And you – have you enjoyed your
Grand Tour?'

‘
No, I hated every minute,' he said abruptly, breaking
through it all. Uninvited, he sat down beside her. 'I hated
being away from England, and I hated being away from you.
Why wouldn't you come with me?'

‘
You know why.' She looked away across the garden, away
from him. 'This is so unexpected, I hardly know what to say
to you. Why didn't you write to say you were coming?'

‘
Because I thought –'

‘
Because you thought I might refuse to see you? Well,
perhaps I would have,' she mused. 'Perhaps it's as well you
didn't give me the choice.'

‘
But you don't know what I have to say to you.' She looked
at him. It was hardly an encouraging look, but still he
struggled on. 'I've decided not to live abroad any more. I'm
going home, to Penrith, to live on the family estate, and I've come to ask if you will marry me and come with me. We can have a good life together at Lasonby Hall. No-one there will
care about – you know – the trouble. We can put our past
behind us, and start a new life. And eventually the fashionable people will forget about it too, and we'll be able to go
back into society –'

‘
I don't care about society,' she said, interrupting him. 'I
never did.’

He brightened. 'Nor do I, really, only it seemed unfair that
you shouldn't have it. But I should be just as happy to stay up
there all the time. The country is wonderful, and it has the
best hunting of all, better than the Shires, if you don't care
about fashion. Lasonby Hall is a little old-fashioned, but we
can have it done up, or even rebuilt if you like. And as
Marquess and Marchioness of –'

‘
Please don't go on,' she said. 'I can't marry you.’

‘
But –' He was visibly taken aback.

‘
I'm sorry, I didn't think you would take what I said for
encouragement. I have no wish to hurt you. I hope you will be
happy there. I think it's the best thing you could do, to go
home; and one day, you'll meet someone else –’

There are few more irritating things that can be said to a
lover. 'I don't want someone else. I want you. You're the only
woman I've ever loved – you know that. How can you say
such a thing to me?’

She bit her lip, her composure broken at last by his
reproach. 'People change. Feelings change.'

‘Mine haven't.'

‘But mine have.’

He stared. 'You mean – you don't love me any more? Is
that what you're saying?' She didn't reply, keeping her eyes
away from him. Then his mouth turned down bitterly. 'You
still think – you still believe – that I –’

She turned to him, her hand flew out. ‘No, not that! Oh my
dear, I was half mad with shock and fear at that time. I didn't
know what I was saying. How could I ever really think that
you – the most gentle of men, and loving, and kind –’

He seized the hand, pressed his lips to it. 'You do love me!'
he said triumphantly between kisses. 'I knew you couldn't
have changed. After all we've been through together – all the
suffering – all the waiting! You will marry me – oh my love,
say you will!'

‘
Please Harvey, don't.' She tried to pull her hand away,
succeeding in freeing it from his kisses, though not from his
grasp. 'I do still love you, of course I do,' she said with
desperate calm, 'but not in the same way. Feelings
do
change,
my dear. I believe yours have too.'

‘No! Never! I love you! I want to marry you!'

‘
Yes,' she said sadly, 'but only, I suspect, because you still
believe we are two exiles from society, clinging together in the
face of a storm of reproach and unfair abuse. It's not like that
any more. No, let me finish! I have been able to think about
things very clearly and carefully since I've been here, and I've
come to understand a great many things – about the world, about feelings – about ourselves. When you've had time to find yourself again, when you've settled in at Lasonby and
discovered that you are loved by many, many people, you will find you feel quite differently about me. Yes, I do believe you
will always love me, as I will always love you – but it is not
the kind of love on which to build a marriage.' She smiled
faintly. 'I would not make a very good marchioness. Your
brother was right about that.'

‘
This is nonsense,' he said, half-angry, half-afraid. 'You still think that if we marry, people will believe I murdered
Flaminia – that's it, isn't it?’

It might have been kinder to let him think so, but Polly
resisted the lure of the easy solution. 'No. I don't want to
marry you, that's all. Being here has changed me. I've come
to understand myself much better, to discover strengths in
myself I knew nothing about. I've never before had the
chance to be what it was in me to be. Always I belonged to
someone else – to my aunt, to Minnie – to you. Now I'm
mine, only mine, and it feels so good, I don't want to give it
up – even for you, my dear.’

He put her hand from him, and she saw he hadn't under
stood a word. 'There's someone else, isn't there? That's what
you're trying to tell me. You've fallen in love with someone
else.’

She gave up. 'Yes, if you like,' she said, looking away from
him.

Harvey stood up. 'You should have said so at once,' he said
with dignity. 'I wouldn't have pestered and embarrassed you
like this if I'd realised –'

‘Oh Harvey!'

‘
Dear Polly, I do most sincerely wish you well. Whoever he
is, he isn't half good enough for you, and I hope he realises it,
and dedicates his life to making you happy, as I wanted to
d
o.’

She looked at him helplessly, and he took her hand again
and kissed it, but lightly, in courtly farewell.

‘
I hope you know that you have in me a sincere friend,
should you ever need one,' he said. 'Goodbye, dearest Polly.
And, God bless you.’

She let him go. It was for the best, even though sadness for
him and exasperation towards him were still mingled with an
old affection that tugged at her like an importunate child. She
had been in love with him all her adult life, and it was a hard
thing to let him go thinking that she had stopped loving him
and fallen in love with someone else. She sat in silence for
some time, her head a little bent, deep in thought, while the
warm, perfumed air exhaled its thousand summer scents, and
bees came and went in the creamy hearts of the flowers that
embowered her.

She had no idea how much time passed before she was
disturbed by a movement, and looked up to see someone else coming into the garden. At the sight of him she smiled, and a
look transfixing in its beauty came into her eyes, whose bril
liant blue depths mysteriously lost their opacity at that
moment.

‘
The children are hard at work on an exercise, and I
thought I would take the chance to breathe fresh air,' said
Father Moineau. 'I must not be more than ten minutes,
however. Will you walk and talk with me? Or do I disturb
you?'

‘
No, you aren't disturbing me,' Polly said. should be
happy to bear you company. And there is something in particular I'd like to talk to you about, if I may? Something that's
just happened. May I tell you about it?'

‘
Tell away,' said Father Moineau, taking her hand and slipping it comfortably through his arm. 'You know that
everything about your life interests me very much.’

*

Queen Caroline, on Brougham's advice, came back to
England, and entered London in a kind of triumphal progress
on June the 6th, passing through streets lined with cheering
crowds. Such was her popularity that even the sentries on
duty outside Carlton House saluted her, despite the fact that
a bill was to be put through Parliament to dissolve the mar
riage and deprive her of her title. To support the bill, a new
enquiry was to be opened into her conduct. Meanwhile,
though it was plain that the King would like to be rid of her
on any terms, it looked as though it might not be necessary
for him to marry again after all, for a strong rumour was
going about that the Duchess of Clarence was pregnant again.