Women and Children First (42 page)

Later that night, George Grayling sat at his desk with a glass of cognac by his elbow, fingering the key with the number B78 engraved on it.

Margaret shouldn’t have come to Italy with me
, he brooded.
Why did she come?

Had she perhaps suspected he was going to see another woman? Did she want to spoil his affair? She kept trying to ‘save’ their marriage, no matter how cruelly he behaved towards her. If she had only given him the divorce he’d asked for, she would be alive today.

He knew he’d been bad-tempered with her on the
Titanic
as he skipped between Venetia, who was safely ensconced in a stateroom on C Deck, and his marital suite up on B. He resented having to return to Margaret in the early hours of the morning when Venetia dismissed him. He was bored with his wife’s conversation and couldn’t abide the time he spent eating meals in her company. Why did she not bow gracefully to the inevitable?

Her stubbornness had made him cross. As far as he could see, she had been the only obstacle that stood between him and his possession of the exquisite Venetia. He’d planned to marry her in due course and with any luck have a child. Margaret had been too old to give him another child, but Venetia could have. Except now everything was ruined. He picked up the glass and swallowed a mouthful, feeling the warmth of it in his gullet.

There was a knock on the door and Mr Frank looked in. ‘May I get you anything before I turn in for the night, sir?’ He noticed the expression on his boss’s face. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No,’ Mr Grayling admitted. ‘I’m not. Come in, Frank. Sit down. Have a drink with me.’

Mr Frank hesitated then obeyed, pouring himself half an inch of cognac from the decanter. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Did you know that Venetia has left me?’ He sighed and shook his head in disbelief.

Mr Frank pursed his lips. ‘I heard. I’m sorry, sir.’

‘I loved her, Frank. I was going to marry her and have a child with her. I thought she felt the same way, but she was playing me for an old fool. She let me shower her with money and gifts before announcing that she’s sailing for Europe to join her friends on their yacht, and I’m left with no one: no wife, no daughter, no Venetia. She said she couldn’t be associated with the scandal of poor Molly being killed and Reg half-drowned, but it wasn’t that. She was bored. I could feel it in my bones.’

‘She’s still young, sir. It was quiet for her in the house here.’

‘I suppose I’ve always known deep down it wouldn’t work. New York society would have mocked us, and Venetia would never have been able to cope with that. I’d have been a laughing stock and she would have been labelled a money-grabber.’
Which, of course, she was
, he thought bitterly. He swallowed another gulp of his drink, resolving never to calculate how much he had spent on her during the three years of their affair.

‘Perhaps she will come back, sir. Maybe she will find that the grass is not always greener.’

‘Oh, no doubt I’ll receive an urgent telegram next time she runs out of money. That’s how it’s always been between us.’

Mr Frank sipped his cognac, with an impassive expression. ‘I take it you met her long before you sailed on the
Titanic
.’

‘I know you disapprove, Frank, but you must understand that Margaret and I never had a passionate marriage. I married for money, not for love, so it’s ironic that when I fell in love with Venetia, she only wanted me for my money.’ He gave a harsh little laugh, like a cough. ‘What’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, as they say.’ He realised that the alcohol combined with his disappointment was making him loose-tongued.
Why was he talking to a member of staff about this? But who else could he talk to? Besides, Frank had always been loyal as they come.

‘Did you plan to divorce Mrs Grayling?’

‘She wouldn’t let me. God knows I asked her …’ He reached across the desk for the decanter and refilled his glass with a generous measure. ‘Reg thinks I killed her. Can you believe it? Me? A murderer?’

‘I heard there had been such talk in the house and I told them all it had to stop.’ Mr Frank’s gaze was level.

‘He went to the police about it!’ Mr Grayling exclaimed, his voice rising. ‘That’s why I was called down to the precinct tonight. Can you imagine?’

‘It seems incredible. I expect that’s why the police let you go again so quickly. They haven’t arrested young Reg, though, have they? I hope not, after all he’s been through.’

‘He’s fine. He’s going back to England. I said I’d get him a ticket. But I still can’t get over the fact he thought I’d murdered my wife to avoid the expense and scandal of a divorce. In his opinion, I was capable of that …’ He shook his head, and his words were slurred as he spoke. ‘And yet, as it turned out, it almost amounted to the same thing. I might as well have killed her.’

Mr Frank frowned. ‘Sir, you’re tired. Perhaps you should go to bed.’

‘No! I have to tell someone and you know me, Frank. You know I’m not a bad person. OK, I lied, but it’s not what Reg thinks. I could never have killed her in cold blood. You believe me, don’t you?’

‘Yes, of course I do.’

‘She’d been ill all that last day on the
Titanic
. Christ, the sound of her vomiting turned my stomach but still I dropped in every few hours to make sure she wasn’t in need of anything. You see? I was a good husband in some respects. When I checked on her after dinner she was sound asleep, with the bottle of sleeping potion beside her, so I assumed she had taken some and was out for the night. That’s when I went to Venetia’s room.’

He closed his eyes and imagined himself back there, in her dazzling presence. They had drunk champagne and talked and laughed. She kept him at arm’s length, though. You’d think when they were alone together she might have allowed him a few more liberties, but she ordered him to remain in his chair while she sat in another several feet away.

‘What kind of girl do you think I am?’ she asked coyly. ‘You’ll get nothing more from me without a ring on my finger. I have already let you be far too fresh.’

And he was content just to be in her presence, allowed to gaze at her perfect features. Those cat-like eyes! The heart-shaped face! The glossy copper curls! And her pale skin, with the smoothness of pure cream. He adored her laugh. She seemed so witty when he was with her, although afterwards he could never remember any of her witticisms. She was intoxicating and he knew he was addicted to her. When they were apart he counted the minutes until he could see her again.

Mr Frank cleared his throat, interrupting the reverie. ‘Are you saying you were with Miss Hamilton rather than your wife when the ship hit the iceberg?’

‘It was just a slight jolt. Venetia was anxious but I told her that it wouldn’t be anything serious. Then a steward knocked on the door and told us to come up to the boat deck with our life preservers. Just a precaution, he said.’

He was the same steward who brought Venetia’s meals to her, and he must have guessed their arrangement was illicit but never gave so much as a hint of it in his composure. He showed them how to fasten their life preservers then led them up the Grand Staircase to the boat deck. Venetia kept her head bowed, her face overshadowed by a hat, and walked behind him for fear of being recognised by any of the English aristocracy on board. She needn’t have worried, because everyone was engrossed in their own situation.

‘I
specifically
asked him, you know.’ Mr Grayling banged his glass on the desk, causing a little cognac to spill onto the highly polished wood. ‘I asked whether all passengers would be brought up on deck by their room stewards and he assured me that they would. Assured me. I told him that I had a friend who was asleep in a room on B Deck and he said not to worry, that my friend would be fine. It just didn’t occur to me to worry about Margaret after that.’

‘So you didn’t go back for her.’ Mr Frank’s voice was cold. It was a statement rather than a question.

‘Oh Christ, it all happened so fast. You don’t understand. They insisted that Venetia get into a lifeboat and she begged me to come too. She was scared. They said women and children were going first but then they started to lower away and there were loads of places left, so I just got on.’ He took a greedy swallow of his drink. ‘You must believe me, Frank. I wouldn’t have done it if that steward hadn’t
assured
me that Margaret would be on another boat. It was his fault. Besides, no one said the ship was sinking. We thought it was just a precaution. It was only when we got some distance away and saw the ship getting low in the water, at a slant …’ He held his arm at an angle to demonstrate. ‘That’s when I realised it was serious. And even when she sank, I still thought Margaret would be fine because we were in first class, for God’s sake. I thought all these people in the water must be third-class passengers who had dawdled and hadn’t made it to the boat deck on time. You expect better in first class.’ He peered at Mr Frank, yearning for his understanding.

The butler’s face was impassive, his body very still. ‘I suppose it was only when you reached the
Carpathia
that you realised Mrs Grayling hadn’t made it.’

‘Not even then! First of all I had to bribe the staff to find a cabin for Venetia and to calm her down – she was a bit upset.’ He hiccoughed loudly. ‘Then I went off to look for Margaret. I walked all round the ship but couldn’t see any sign of her. I thought maybe she had found a cabin so I asked the stewards, but no one had seen her. It was horrible, Frank. You’ve got no idea what it was like for me. And then I bumped into Reg, and he told me that he had tried the door of our suite on the
Titanic
and found it locked.’ A sob burst from his throat. ‘That’s when the terrible truth struck me: I’d locked the door when I went out.’ He pushed the key across the desk. ‘I only did it because I wanted her to sleep undisturbed.’ He began to sob properly, covering his face with his hands, shoulders heaving.

Mr Frank picked up the key and looked at it. He felt disgust for the man sitting opposite. What kind of person would leave his wife to fend for herself on a sinking ship? ‘Was there another key?’ he asked slowly. ‘If she wakened, would she have been able to open the door herself from the inside?’

The sobs grew even louder, as Mr Grayling shook his head. ‘Oh God, I hope she didn’t waken. I pray she just slept on. I did care about her, Frank. I did.’ He looked pathetic with his sagging jowls and reddened eyes. A bubble of snot under one nostril flared as he breathed out.

Mr Frank said nothing, his face inscrutable.

‘Please don’t judge me,’ Mr Grayling pleaded. ‘I thought you would understand.’

‘I do understand, sir. Perhaps it would be best if you let me help you to bed now. You probably shouldn’t have any more to drink.’ He rose to his feet.

Mr Grayling drained his glass in one long gulp. Mr Frank took his arm and helped him to his feet.

‘You’re a good man, Frank.’ He staggered, and would have fallen if not for the butler’s support. ‘I’m lucky to have someone as understanding as you.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Mr Frank led him, stumbling, down the corridor to his bedroom.

As arranged, Robert came to the hotel at six and took Juliette’s arm to help her downstairs and out to his automobile.

‘I’m not an invalid,’ she said, trying to keep her tone light, although she was terrified about what the evening might bring.

‘You must take care in your condition,’ he replied, and his voice was kind but not passionate, no longer the voice of a lover.

During the drive, she longed to touch him, to put her hand on his, but didn’t dare. Her lips still tingled with his kisses, but everything between them had changed. She could feel the weight of the lie hanging over her like a sword of Damocles. As soon as they got to the house, she would explain that she was six months pregnant, not two, and offer him a quick and easy annulment. It was the only vaguely honourable route left to her.

The butler showed them straight in to dinner, then a footman came to consult Robert on the choice of wine, and when he left a maid brought their entrée of a light-as-air cheese soufflé.

When at last they were alone, it was Robert who spoke first. ‘Have you been receiving medical attention in Saratoga Springs?’ he asked.

‘Yes. With a doctor who advised me to take up cross-stitching, if you can believe it!’

Robert smiled. ‘I certainly can’t imagine you doing that. Where are you hoping to have the child? Will you go back to England for the birth?’

‘I was planning to have the baby in Saratoga Springs,’ she said in a whisper, then took a deep breath and uttered the fateful words: ‘It’s due in November.’ He looked so sad, she wished she could take back the words as soon as they’d been spoken. ‘I’m sorry.’

Robert nodded and cleared his throat. ‘Will you stay with your relatives for the remaining months?’

She shook her head. ‘We have no relatives there. Mother and I have been staying in a rented cottage. I’m so sorry I’ve lied to you, Robert. I never intended this to happen, not any of it.’

‘Yet you married me without saying anything. That’s what I find hard to understand.’ His tone was hurt.

‘I couldn’t bear to lose you. I planned to have the baby in Saratoga Springs, give it up for adoption and come back to you as if nothing had happened, as if I had merely spent the summer with elderly relatives. It was a ridiculous plan, I know, but I prayed you would never find out. I swear I am not a dishonest person by nature. You must have such a low opinion of me now.’

‘I am surprised by you, indeed. When I guessed this afternoon that your pregnancy was more advanced than would have been possible with my child, I was shocked. I invented the excuse of business to attend to because I needed time to think. I didn’t want to blurt out in the heat of the moment words that I might later live to regret.’

Juliette felt desperately ashamed. He was a decent, honest man and she had behaved unspeakably. ‘Please let me explain,’ she begged. ‘I am not a woman of such loose morals as the bare facts of the situation might lead you to assume.’

He reached across the table and put his finger to her lips. ‘No. I don’t want to know.’

‘But I must tell you.’

He shook his head. ‘In New York society, there are certain matters that are never discussed between husbands and wives. In particular, it’s an absolute rule that we never mention any admirers we might have entertained before meeting each other. I will never tell you whether I considered marrying any other woman before I met you, and I don’t want to know about all the many men who must have been head over heels in love with you. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

Juliette was confused. Was he implying that he would stay married to her? How could he?

He continued: ‘I was telling the truth earlier when I said that I have always wanted to be a father. I also want to be with you, so I have decided that I will be a father to this baby and that we will tell everyone it is ours.’ He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. ‘In future, God willing, we will have more children of our own who will be brothers and sisters to it.’

Joy flooded Juliette’s whole body. ‘But how will we manage? What will people say?’

Robert had an answer ready. ‘I’m going to have to spend a lot of time in California over the coming months while I set up the new companies. I suggest we take a house out there and hire a nurse to come and live with us. You can have the baby there and your mother may accompany us if she wishes.’ Juliette was gazing at him in astonishment. He continued: ‘There’s a glorious climate, and we can keep our own stables. When the baby is old enough, we’ll make a trip back to England and you can introduce me to the rest of your family then.’

Juliette’s head was swimming. ‘Mother will go mad! She’s already planned most details of an elaborate December wedding in Gloucestershire.’

‘I suspect she will prefer the solution I propose to your idea of having her grandchild adopted.’

He must have formulated these plans during the last few hours, since finding out about her condition. Juliette sat back and watched him, full of wonder. He loved her so much that he was prepared to accept that she was having another man’s child. It seemed extraordinary to her, and at the same time quite, quite wonderful.

‘Can you ever forgive me?’ she asked.

He gazed deep into her eyes, and he still looked sad but there was love there as well. ‘I wish you had told me before, of course, but I know the person you are and I think I can understand why you made the choices you made.’ He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them. ‘I love you, Juliette. You are my wife and I want to spend my life with you. Of course I forgive you.’