The Lost Empress (4 page)

‘You’ve a sharp mind,’ Lord Metcalfe continued. ‘Both your father and myself are in agreement that you are best placed to serve our great nation where you are for the time being.’

Archie smiled uncomfortably. ‘Yes, of course, sir.’

‘That’s the stuff, lad. You’ll make us all proud, I’m sure.’

The Royal Navy dominated life at Hamberley. Alice had never really minded. She supposed she had become used to it because it was all she had known, but meeting Henry had been like a breath of fresh air to her. Everything about the dashing American was so different and so welcome. She thought about him all through the rest of the main course, treading around the general conversation so as not to be drawn in. It was the not knowing that kept Alice awake at night, and which caused her to cry out in those rare moments of sleep. How was Henry being treated? Was he still in Holland, or even still alive for that matter? She had no way of knowing. Plates of food came and went with the conversations that drifted over her, as unheeded as the tick-tock of the mantle clock, until one voice caught her attention. It was Oscar Scanlon, ruddy faced and almost shouting, as though he’d made too free with her father’s claret again—which Alice had seen him do most days since her arrival.

‘I heard a painting was attacked in London not so long ago. I was out of the country at the time and missed the details.’

‘I read about it,’ Saxby said, twisting the tip of his moustache. ‘It was by one of the Old Masters.’

‘Blasted suffragettes,’ Alice’s father added. ‘That confounded Richardson woman smuggled a hatchet into the National Gallery and tried to destroy one of Velázquez’s masterpieces. Quite what a three-hundred-year-old painting has to do with women’s suffrage is beyond me.’

‘It was the
Rokeby Venus
,’ Alice said casually, still thinking more about her husband than the conversation. ‘Mary Richardson told the press afterwards that she wanted to destroy the picture of the most beautiful woman in mythological history as a protest against the government for destroying Mrs Pankhurst, who, according to Richardson, is the most beautiful character in modern history.’

Alice felt the room close in around her as she finished speaking. In the ensuing silence the clock on the mantle sounded louder than ever. ‘With all the rain, I’ve had plenty of time to go over old newspapers this week,’ she added, as though she felt the need to apologise for something, no doubt because of her father’s longstanding disagreement with her interest in politics and current affairs.

Her father coughed loudly into his hand. ‘I’ve arranged to take my grandson into Chatham to see the dockyard tomorrow,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘Chester is old enough to appreciate a proper visit now, and there’s something I want to show him. It will be good education for him.’ He paused and began to pull at his beard. ‘Just the two of us, you understand? I’m sure it would be of no interest to you.’

‘Of course,’ Alice said, knowing that it was unlikely to be of any interest to her at all. ‘I’m sure Chester would like that very much.’

Saxby leaned in. ‘We were sorry to hear about Henry,’ he said, glancing at his wife and confirming to Alice that her father must have told everyone the story of how she and the children came to be there at Hamberley without him. A part of her was thankful because it would save her the discomfort of repeating the lie, and it would lessen the chances of her tripping herself up in the process.

‘It’s a shame for the children, isn’t it?’ Mrs Saxby added, and the other women around the table nodded their agreement.

Mention of Henry’s name made Alice think of him more than ever, and she wondered how much longer it would be before she was contacted again. She was eager now for that to happen. All she wanted was to get through this and go back to normal life again; to get Henry back and remove the threat that hung over her children’s head like the Grim Reaper’s scythe.

Her father drained his wine glass and leaned towards Saxby. ‘Personally, I think there’s more to it,’ he said under his breath, clearly hoping that Alice wouldn’t hear him, but she did. She wanted to say so many things in response to the remark, but instead she just stared at the individual chocolate soufflé in front of her, which she had barely touched.

‘Had your first proper row, have you?’ her father continued, directly to Alice now. ‘I always said—’

Alice’s mother cut him short. ‘Charles, not now. Please.’ To Alice she added, ‘I’m sorry, dear.’

That Alice knew Henry could never live up to her father’s expectations was not news to her. She had no doubt this was why her bedroom was kept ready for her, just as she had left it, in the hope that she would fall out with Henry and return home again. Henry was new money and an American, and such a match would never do for her father. She silently wished the meal would end so she could return to her room, but her father would not be silenced on the matter.

‘Well, what sort of husband lets his wife and children travel by themselves anyway? Our daughter and our grandchildren!’ he added. ‘And I don’t know why you insist on bringing them up all by yourself. Every respectable mother has at least one nanny.’

Alice would have made her excuses and left the room there and then had Archie not spoken.

‘Tell me, Lord Abridge, do you see Germany building many new Dreadnoughts this year? Or in your opinion is that now a one-horse race?’

Abridge scoffed. ‘After conceding three such ships to our seven last year,’ he said. ‘I should think we’ve got the Germans entirely demoralised.’

‘And we have the jump on them again this year,’ Alice’s father added. ‘I’d say the race was as good as won.’

Both men began to laugh, and as they continued the conversation between themselves, Archie edged closer to Alice and whispered, ‘Get a pair of old sea dogs talking about the naval arms race, and they won’t talk about anything else for hours. Would you care for some fresh air before leaving us to our port and cigars?’

Alice sighed and returned his smile. ‘Yes, I’d like that very much.’

‘Good. I could do with a stretch.’

They both stood up together, momentarily pausing the conversation.

‘Would you excuse us?’ Archie said, addressing the room. ‘Alice has kindly agreed to accompany me on the terrace for a few minutes before taking her coffee in the drawing room with the rest of you fine ladies. I’m afraid that last glass of wine has left me feeling in need of some air.’

‘Of course, Archie,’ Alice’s father said. ‘And I’m sure you two have plenty to catch up on while you’re out there, eh?’

Alice caught the wink her father gave Archie, who just smiled politely as they turned and left the room.

As soon as they were outside, Alice threw her head to the stars and breathed as though it were the first breath she had taken all evening. She thought it was cold for the time of year, but she didn’t mind.

‘Thank you, Archie.’

‘Not at all,’ Archie said. ‘It was the least I could do for an old friend.’ He threw her a smile, accentuating his dimples. ‘The truth is that I couldn’t bear to see your father torture you like that. I’m sure he didn’t mean to.’

‘Oh, I’m sure he did.’

‘Well, perhaps it was the wine. It’s changed many a good man and left him aching with regret afterwards. Cigarette? Or haven’t you started smoking yet?’

‘No, I did try it once, but it just made me cough.’

They were laughing at the idea as they walked to the low balustrade that bordered the terrace, where shrubs that were black against the moonlight framed wide stone steps that led down to the lawns and the countryside beyond. Alice felt suddenly dizzy. She sat on the stonework, unsure whether it was from her lack of sleep and general state of mind or the sudden intake of all that fresh air.

‘Are you well?’ Archie asked, concern in his voice.

Alice took a slow and purposeful breath. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine in a moment or two. Are you still living in Gillingham?’

Archie nodded. ‘Same old place, except I’ve had a small part of the house to myself since Ernest left.’

‘Your brother moved out?’

‘Yes, he married the year before last—child on the way. He lives in Sittingbourne now.’

‘You didn’t have too far to travel then. How did you get here this evening?’

‘I have my own motorcar now,’ Archie said with pride. ‘It’s a Vauxhall C10—the four-litre model. I must say she’s rather sporty with it, too. I only got her last year.’

Alice smiled playfully. ‘Four litres,’ she mimicked, as though she knew what that meant. ‘You must be moving up in the world.’

Archie snorted. ‘I don’t know about that, but it certainly makes getting up to Town more agreeable. I’ll introduce you to her before I head home. Maybe I can take you for a spin sometime?’

‘I’d like that.’

Archie sat beside Alice. ‘Look, I must apologise to you. I’ve been waiting a long time for the opportunity, and many’s the day I’ve thought I might never have another chance. I’m sure I’d given up all hope of ever seeing you again when you left Hamberley—all my fault of course.’

‘You’re not the one who went off to live in America,’ Alice said.

‘No, but I shouldn’t have left so soon after the wedding. It was rude of me and entirely unforgivable not to call on you and Henry afterwards. I just—’ Archie stopped himself and turned away, looking back to the house with its tall windows glowing like sheets of silver in the moonlight.

Alice put her hand on the back of his. ‘You have nothing to apologise for. If any apology is necessary between us, it should come from me, for keeping my feelings for Henry such a secret from you. It all happened so fast, despite my father. One moment Henry and I were smiling at each other across a busy restaurant, and the next we were married. At least, that’s how it seems to me now. That first year passed so quickly, and then Chester was born. Our second year together went by even faster.’

Alice was about to ask Archie why he hadn’t called to see them, but she realised she already knew the answer. She had always known. Her mother had said that it was the Royal Navy that had kept him away, but she knew it was really because he didn’t want to see her with Henry, which she supposed was the reason he had left their wedding so soon after the ceremony. She was in no doubt that Archie had stayed away because he couldn’t come to terms with their marriage and the fact that the woman who had been promised to him, albeit without her consent, now belonged to another man. It wasn’t that Alice didn’t love Archie, but their parents had done such a good job of bringing them together at so early an age that by the time she was old enough to consider marriage, she had come to love him more as a brother. She wondered if he still felt the same way about her and decided it was best to talk about something else.

‘You must call again and meet the children,’ she said, realising as soon as she had spoken that that too might be difficult for Archie.

To contradict her thoughts, Archie’s face lit up. ‘I’d like that very much,’ he said, and Alice felt at ease again.

She showed him her picture locket, unclipping it and holding it up as he leaned closer to her. On the side that was not concealed by her fingers, it showed a small portrait of Chester and Charlotte, side by side, holding hands.

‘I had the photograph made on Charlotte’s first birthday,’ she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll adore her, and I know Chester would love to talk about all the ships you’ve served on. Henry tries to indulge his interest in the sea, but I’m afraid his grandfather has spoilt him.’

Archie laughed. ‘Few men can live up to your father’s tales of life on the ocean wave,’ he said, ‘but I’ll certainly do my best.’

Alice found herself smiling again, and she was thankful. ‘You’re so sweet, Archie. You always have been.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ Archie said, giving another small laugh as though he were embarrassed by the suggestion. ‘I’m sure Henry must be far sweeter. You do love him, don’t you?’ He rushed the words out as though he’d been waiting to do so for some time.

‘Yes, of course. I love him very much.’

‘And does he return your love? I mean, is he kind to you?’

Alice gave no answer. Her earlier discomfort rekindled inside her.

‘And what your father said just now,’ Archie continued. ‘About you and Henry quarrelling . . .’ He paused. ‘There’s no truth to it?’

Alice could not believe that Archie could be so insensitive as to save her from her father’s interrogation one minute, only to continue it himself the next. But he had done just that, and the reason was clear: Archie wasn’t over her marriage to Henry any more than her father was. She stood up and Archie stood with her.

‘I’m sorry,’ he offered. ‘Always putting my foot in it, aren’t I?’

But it was too late. Alice turned away and gazed into the distance, across a lawn that was like a shimmering ocean in the moonlight, the grass shifting this way and that in the breeze, like the rolling of the sea.

‘I’d like to be alone now if you don’t mind.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Archie repeated.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw him move away, heading back to the house, and a part of her felt deeply sorry for him, this man who had been promised her love and clearly could not get over its denial. She heard the door open and close again as Archie went back inside, and she sighed to herself as she walked to the steps and slowly began to descend them, wondering why they couldn’t just be friends as they used to be, yet knowing now that the time for that had passed.