The Downstairs Maid (57 page)

‘I love him,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll come as soon as I feel able. Please don’t say anything until I do. If you do he might refuse to see me.’

‘The burns aren’t a pretty sight, Emily.’ Jonathan looked at her doubtfully. ‘I’ve heard of cases where women just run out of the room when they first see their husbands or lovers … you wouldn’t do that?’ Emily’s head went up and he smiled oddly. ‘No, of course you wouldn’t. You’ve had experience of something very similar I know. I just don’t want him to be hurt more than he has been.’

‘Will your father accept me in his house?’

‘He has no choice,’ Jonathan said. ‘I told you, the manor belongs to me – and it is Nicolas’s home for as long as he needs or wants it – and you will always be welcome as Nicolas’s wife. I’ve always admired you, Emily. Believe me, you need have no fear about coming to us.’

‘Thank you.’

Emily sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. She was lost in her own thoughts and the pain that came over her in waves as she thought of all the lost days and weeks when Nicolas had been alone, believing she’d deserted him, wanting her and yet denying her because he did not want to ruin her life. He had such terrible injuries, but so many men had come home from the war with burns and, in severe cases, blindness. Yet Nicolas had escaped lightly compared to Christopher; for if Jonathan spoke the truth, his injuries were less extensive, despite the burns and the blindness. Christopher had practically lost the use of his hands, and his internal injuries had been much worse than she’d known when she wed him. It was doubtful Nicolas would see it that way, but it was true.

For a moment she felt bitterness and anger that it should have happened again. She’d been through this with Christopher. Could Fate be so cruel a second time? Yet in another moment she’d dismissed the unworthy feelings. Nicolas was alive and she had another chance.

Could she convince him that she loved him and wanted to be with him – and that his terrible injuries meant nothing to her other than for the pain they gave him? Or would she just make him unhappy if she tried to force him to accept her?

‘You’re tired and this has been a shock,’ Jonathan said. ‘I’ll go – but let me know when and I’ll come to fetch you, Emily. Nicolas needs you. He might not admit it but he does …’

Emily was paying for her taxi when Lizzie came flying out of the house towards her.

‘Where have you been all this time?’ she demanded. ‘Jon nearly went mad when he couldn’t find you …’

‘I wasn’t far away if anyone had looked,’ Emily said but her cheeks flamed. She ought to have told Nicolas’s family where she was living – and that she was having his child.

‘Jon told me he’d seen you but Nicolas doesn’t know. If he did he would probably refuse to see you. Don’t let him know Jon told you or he would be so angry with him.’

‘Of course. He thinks I would sacrifice myself for him and he can’t bear it … the foolish darling. Where is he? May I see him please?’

‘Yes, of course. He might shout at you and tell you to go away. He makes Mama cry every time she tries to visit him. He won’t speak to anyone but Jonathan or me.’

‘He will speak to me whether he likes it or not,’ Emily said. ‘Would you take the baby for me please, Lizzie? I would rather not shock him too much at first.’

‘Can I really?’ Lizzie took the warm bundle into her arms. ‘He smells delicious – of talcum I think. Do you mind if I take him to visit Mabel? She lost her baby and it might cheer her up to see him.’

‘Oh no, how awful for her,’ Emily said. ‘Yes, of course you can take him to see his aunt if you’re sure it won’t upset her. Is Nicolas in his old room?’ Lizzie nodded. ‘I’ll see myself up.’

‘Yes. Good luck,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ll take Baby Nicolas to visit his grandmother as well.’

Emily nodded. She walked up the main staircase, after handing Hattersley her gloves, bag and short coat. He stared at her in shock but she smiled and walked on, turning to the right at the top and walking along the landing to Nicolas’s room. She took a deep breath and knocked.

‘Go away, Lizzie. I don’t feel like talking.’

Emily opened the door and went in. Nicolas was sitting in an elbow chair by the window, the sun on his face. She saw the extent of his burns immediately and felt a rush of tears but held them back. His beautiful pale face was red and angry on one side, though the other was just the same as it always had been. She must not cry. Nicolas would not want pity. It would make him angry, hurt – even destroy him. She must never ever show pity, only love.

‘It isn’t Lizzie, it’s Emily,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been before but I didn’t know. I thought you’d died in the accident.’

‘Who told you?’ he demanded harshly.

‘Lizzie, just now,’ Emily crossed her fingers as she told the small lie. He wouldn’t be cross with his sister and Jonathan had only done what he considered right.

‘You didn’t know before you came? I forbade Jonathan to tell you but I know he’s been trying to find you in case you need money.’

‘Jonathan didn’t find me. I decided it was time to see my friends.’

‘They will be pleased to see you in the kitchen. Go away, Emily. Lizzie shouldn’t have told you.’

‘Lizzie did just as she ought. You are my husband. If I’d known I would have come much sooner.’

‘I don’t need pity. I have a nurse in Lizzie if I want her and the doctor visits once a week. You’re wasting your time here.’

‘I have no wish to be your nurse. I’m your wife. If you’re angry with me for running away I must apologise – but I just couldn’t bear it when Jonathan told me you were dead. I felt I wasn’t wanted here and I couldn’t face anyone. I wanted to be alone.’

‘Then you’ll know how I feel.’

‘You are not the only man to come home with injuries like this, Nicolas. There must be hundreds of men with scars on their faces and blindness too. Lizzie said there was nothing else wrong – nothing to stop you living your life and making it a good one.’

‘Nothing else? Isn’t this face enough?’ he asked, a note of bitterness in his voice.

‘It isn’t that bad. I’ve seen worse. At the hospital … some of the men were much worse off than you. You have all your limbs and your senses.’

‘Should I think myself lucky?’

‘I feel lucky to have you back.’

‘Go away, Emily. I don’t want you here.’

She took a deep breath, her eyes smarting. ‘I’m sorry, because Jonathan told me this is my home. I can bring Jack if I want, and I shall, of course, though Mr Green loves him, and when he’s older he might go to live with them. I’ve decided I shall live here.’

‘Why?’ Nicolas’s voice was harsh. ‘I don’t need pity and I don’t want you to stay with me out of duty.’

Emily’s laughter rang out. ‘Is that what you think – that I would stay with you out of duty?’

‘It’s what you were prepared to do for Christopher Johnson.’

‘I cared for him as a friend. I love you, Nicolas. You are the only man I’ve ever loved. I want to be with you, and to spend my life with you, loving you – if you will let me?’

‘What’s left of me. I can’t see you. I’m scarred. I can feel the ridges on my face even if I can’t see them and I know I must be a monster. I don’t want that for you, Emily. Jonathan will give you money. You can divorce me and find a new lover.’

‘I wouldn’t even think of it.’ Emily hesitated, then, ‘So you don’t love me? What have I done to be sent away as if I was less than nothing? Do you hate me for ruining your life? Have you decided that your father was right – that I’m not good enough for this family?’

‘Hate you?’ Nicolas stood up, took a step towards her, hands outstretched. She could see tears running down his cheeks. ‘How can you think I could hate you or think you not good enough? I love you too much to let you ruin your life looking after a wreck like me. You didn’t have a choice before – and I want you to know that you can choose to walk away now. I shan’t blame you.’

‘I don’t want to walk away.’

‘Think of what you’ll be giving up … tied to a man who can’t see …’

‘I love you, Nicolas. I’ve never stopped.’

‘It isn’t fair to you, Emily. I can’t see … If I can’t see I can’t write about what I see. Without my poetry I’m only half a man …’

Emily’s voice was a whisper, charged with emotion. ‘I can see. I can be your eyes, Nicolas. I can tell you when the leaves are out and what colour the grass is and when there’s dew on the spider’s web …’

‘You would be tied to me. You should have a life of your own, Emily.’

‘Do you recall standing looking across the Fens on a clear day when the skies seemed to go on forever … endlessly?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And then the dark clouds gathered and the mist rolled in across the flat land making it all become one and the loneliness closed in around you so that you could hardly breathe?’ Nicolas nodded. ‘That is how your life is now, lived under lowering skies.’ She moved closer to him. ‘You do not have to stay in this room. We can start by walking in the garden. You can learn to count your steps and use a stick. You don’t have to be a prisoner. With me as your guide it will be easy. We can reach for the endless skies and if we try we shall find them.’

‘And what can I give you? A few clothes …’

‘Hush, my darling.’ She placed her fingers to his lips. ‘You can give me love and that is all I ask. Besides, don’t you think it fair that your son should know his father?’

‘My son …’ Nicolas’s face reflected shock, pain, and then wonder. ‘I have a son? Emily … is it true?’

‘Yes, my dearest one. We have a beautiful son. He was born three weeks ago, a little early. I think perhaps I worked too long. It was only after he was born that I had the courage to come here. Someone persuaded me that your family had a right to know there was a child and I realised they were speaking the truth. I wanted a family for my son. I wanted him to have the things his father would have given him; love and stability and honour and so I came. It has taken me a long time to find the courage to come. Please don’t send me away, Nicolas.’

‘I didn’t know … I didn’t know …’ the tears were streaming down his face as she went into his arms. ‘Where is he? Can I hold him, touch him?’

‘He is meeting his family,’ Emily said. ‘Why don’t you take my arm and we’ll join them downstairs for tea?’

Nicolas hesitated, and then smiled. ‘I don’t have much choice. You have all the cards, Emily. You’ll have to be patient. I haven’t bothered to leave this room. There wasn’t a reason to do so.’

‘Now there is,’ she said. ‘First you must meet little Nicky – and then I feel like a stroll in the garden. I noticed the roses were just beginning to bud. You remember the white climber – it rains roses all down the south wall. They are in tight buds now but when the petals fall they look like white rain falling.’

‘Raining roses?’ Nicolas laughed. ‘What odd things you say, Emily. Yes, I remember what that looks like. The petals fall like rain when the wind ripples through the branches … and it is usually a glorious sight.’

‘It smells glorious too,’ Emily said, ‘clear and fresh. There is so much to see, Nicolas, so much to smell and touch – and I can make it come alive for you. Remember what it was like in Devon? You said that I made you see all the bright things? The world is filled with them and we’ll find them together …’

Jonathan looked out of the window. He could see Emily and Nicolas walking near the rose arbour. It was still only spring but the sun was already warm. Emily was talking and laughing, and Nicolas was responding. Behind him, he heard his wife’s laughter as she played with young Nicky. Emily had also brought her young brother Jack to the manor when she moved in, but he’d cried for his friends and after a plea from them was allowed to return to the Greens at their farm in Stuntney, though he would visit now and then.

Since Emily arrived a few days previously, Mabel hadn’t cried once. When Lizzie first offered her the baby she’d held back for a moment, unsure or resentful because she’d lost her own baby, but then she’d taken Nicky in her arms and a look of wonder had come over her face. She’d fallen in love with him instantly, as had most of the family. Perhaps Emily’s child would fill the empty space in her heart; he hoped it might be so.

He turned to look at Mabel. She looked almost pretty as she nursed the child. It was a pity she would have none of her own – if the doctor was right. Jonathan hadn’t told her yet. He didn’t love her but he didn’t want to destroy her. He’d been a fool to rush into a marriage that meant nothing to him. He should have waited and followed his heart, as Nicolas had. His grandmother had meant to leave him the manor all along.

He could divorce Mabel if she failed to produce a child; they could arrange something, but she didn’t deserve that. Jonathan realised that he didn’t want to change anything. Emily had given him all he needed. She’d provided an heir for Priorsfield and in the years to come she would probably produce half a dozen healthy brats, because there was nothing wrong with Nicolas but a few scars and the blurring of his eyesight. Women of her class so often did have a string of healthy brats. He hoped she would. It would fill the house with noise and laughter and that was what the manor needed – it had seemed empty since Lizzie married and moved away, but now they had Emily, her brother and Nicolas’s son. Already, it seemed more alive than it had been since his grandmother died.

No, Jonathan wouldn’t divorce his wife. No doubt Mabel would have objected strongly, even though he didn’t think she was happy with things as they stood. Perhaps she would find a way to fill her empty days; he hoped so. He thought that he would take a mistress when the right opportunity presented itself.

Hearing laughter through the open window he turned to watch Emily as she picked a spray of some scented shrub and held it to Nicolas’s nose. Jonathan hadn’t told his brother yet but he’d sent some of his poetry to a publisher – the dark stuff he’d done in the war. It was the best verse he’d ever written and deserved to be seen by the world at large. Nicolas had started to write a few lines again – at least, he dictated and Emily wrote it down. She was constantly at his side, helping him, persuading him, making him laugh. Often, she and Nicolas sat in the gardens, talking and laughing, little Nicky in his pram nearby. Jonathan joined them whenever he had the time. Watching them together, he felt a pang of envy.