out the warmth of her complexion and the richness of her eyes.
She flushed at his intrusion, but ignored him, declaring only, “Indeed, I misled you, Father. The reason I have not ordered a gown is that I thought I might wear one of my mother’s. The crimson brocade that she wore on the last occasion we dined together, before you took her to Barbados and her death, becomes me particularly well, I think. And perhaps it will serve as a reminder to us all, while we celebrate your new union, that she is scarcely cold in her grave.”
A hush fell over the room. Herbert’s eyes glistened. The muscles in his jaw contracted and twitched, but he didn’t appear surprised in the least. It was as if he had known all along what was coming and now wrestled with a response.
“Caroline! Dearest child! I beg you, restrain yourself. Surely you do not blame me for your dear mother’s death?” he managed to say at length. “She accompanied me to Barbados at her own request. I loved her as much as you did, and I mourn her as much as you do now. Her death from fever was a tragedy, but we cannot rewrite history any more than we may see into the future.”
Caroline’s fine cold eyes were now lit up with passion. “For someone who loved and mourns her so sincerely, it did not take you long to replace her!”
Herbert quivered with helpless emotion. His face gleamed with sweat, and the edge of his wig grew damp. His fingers played with his cutlery, as if he knew he had to say something to his daughter’s challenge, but that whatever he said would make matters worse.
“It was fate that brought Sabine and me together. She was kindness itself to your mother when she grew ill. Is it any wonder that afterward I visited her, warmed to her, and found her sympathetic?”
Caroline scowled. “How good of dear Sabine to be so solicitous to my poor sick mother, as she schemed all the while to steal her husband away from her!” she shouted. “Why, she is so clever it wouldn’t surprise me to learn she’d poisoned my poor mother!” With this, she threw down her napkin in a ferment of fury, whipped up her skirts, and rushed from the room. Herbert was left gaping and speechless.
Joshua glanced up and caught Francis’s eye. The earlier cool hostility had disappeared and the expression on Francis’s face was now one of unmistakable sadness. A similar emotion was etched upon Herbert’s face. The scene brought a sense of profound melancholy upon Joshua Pope. He had hoped that coming to Astley would rid him of his sense of gloomy, lonely despair. In Herbert’s betrothal to Sabine he had seen hope, light, the belief that his own sad plight might also one day be similarly happily resolved. But despite his longing to escape it, the cloud of despondency he had intended to leave in London had followed him to Astley.
----
Chapter Seven
A FTER Caroline Bentnick’s outburst, dinner concluded swiftly and in awkward silence. Anxious for some respite from the taint of malevolence and wrath, Joshua decided to take advantage of the dwindling sunshine and spend an hour or two outdoors. Dinner had intrigued him more than a little, but it had also been profoundly fatiguing. Before Rachel died, Joshua had always been of sociable disposition. On occasion, after a bottle or two of claret, he might have appeared rather too full of bonhomie. Furthermore, Joshua’s marriage, though brief, had been a contented one. Now, confronted by such an excess of discord, he felt unsettled and unsteady and ill equipped to cope. He felt a twinge in his temple and a slight rise in his pulse. Immediately he began to fret a headache might be poised to smite him. He would make some sketches first and then seek out the gardener as Mrs. Mercier had asked. After donning a broad-brimmed velvet hat garnished with an extravagant plume and a woollen frock coat lined in purple silk—fine dress sometimes helped lift his spirits—Joshua took up his sketchbook, placed a box of
She flushed at his intrusion, but ignored him, declaring only, “Indeed, I misled you, Father. The reason I have not ordered a gown is that I thought I might wear one of my mother’s. The crimson brocade that she wore on the last occasion we dined together, before you took her to Barbados and her death, becomes me particularly well, I think. And perhaps it will serve as a reminder to us all, while we celebrate your new union, that she is scarcely cold in her grave.”
A hush fell over the room. Herbert’s eyes glistened. The muscles in his jaw contracted and twitched, but he didn’t appear surprised in the least. It was as if he had known all along what was coming and now wrestled with a response.
“Caroline! Dearest child! I beg you, restrain yourself. Surely you do not blame me for your dear mother’s death?” he managed to say at length. “She accompanied me to Barbados at her own request. I loved her as much as you did, and I mourn her as much as you do now. Her death from fever was a tragedy, but we cannot rewrite history any more than we may see into the future.”
Caroline’s fine cold eyes were now lit up with passion. “For someone who loved and mourns her so sincerely, it did not take you long to replace her!”
Herbert quivered with helpless emotion. His face gleamed with sweat, and the edge of his wig grew damp. His fingers played with his cutlery, as if he knew he had to say something to his daughter’s challenge, but that whatever he said would make matters worse.
“It was fate that brought Sabine and me together. She was kindness itself to your mother when she grew ill. Is it any wonder that afterward I visited her, warmed to her, and found her sympathetic?”
Caroline scowled. “How good of dear Sabine to be so solicitous to my poor sick mother, as she schemed all the while to steal her husband away from her!” she shouted. “Why, she is so clever it wouldn’t surprise me to learn she’d poisoned my poor mother!” With this, she threw down her napkin in a ferment of fury, whipped up her skirts, and rushed from the room. Herbert was left gaping and speechless.
Joshua glanced up and caught Francis’s eye. The earlier cool hostility had disappeared and the expression on Francis’s face was now one of unmistakable sadness. A similar emotion was etched upon Herbert’s face. The scene brought a sense of profound melancholy upon Joshua Pope. He had hoped that coming to Astley would rid him of his sense of gloomy, lonely despair. In Herbert’s betrothal to Sabine he had seen hope, light, the belief that his own sad plight might also one day be similarly happily resolved. But despite his longing to escape it, the cloud of despondency he had intended to leave in London had followed him to Astley.
----
Chapter Seven
A FTER Caroline Bentnick’s outburst, dinner concluded swiftly and in awkward silence. Anxious for some respite from the taint of malevolence and wrath, Joshua decided to take advantage of the dwindling sunshine and spend an hour or two outdoors. Dinner had intrigued him more than a little, but it had also been profoundly fatiguing. Before Rachel died, Joshua had always been of sociable disposition. On occasion, after a bottle or two of claret, he might have appeared rather too full of bonhomie. Furthermore, Joshua’s marriage, though brief, had been a contented one. Now, confronted by such an excess of discord, he felt unsettled and unsteady and ill equipped to cope. He felt a twinge in his temple and a slight rise in his pulse. Immediately he began to fret a headache might be poised to smite him. He would make some sketches first and then seek out the gardener as Mrs. Mercier had asked. After donning a broad-brimmed velvet hat garnished with an extravagant plume and a woollen frock coat lined in purple silk—fine dress sometimes helped lift his spirits—Joshua took up his sketchbook, placed a box of
Similar Books
