“Torquay does not love you,” he said solemnly. “He has never said so, has he? But I confess, I do. If the world…if my world, were different, I would marry you, Regina. But you would not understand. Could you bear to be rejected, out of hand, by all your friends, all your acquaintances, all your family, because of a misalliance? If it were true that we all only live for love and love alone, it would do. But in the harsh realities of this world, it would not do. And,” he said, seeing her expression, “no, by no means is it only myself I am thinking of. How could I bear to see you rejected, refused entrees, refused invitations and snubbed in the street because my world thought you an adventuress? Because, be sure that Torquay would spread the story of your defection from your family, and the world would believe him. Your reputation would be in tatters, even my title could not protect you. But as my…secret companion, you could live in comfort, in security, wrapped about with consideration and love, your future assured. You have said that you do not love me, Regina, so your heart would not be involved. But use your head, and if you must use your heart, have some pity upon me. I could give you all that you have ever wanted, and you could give me the love I so desperately want of you.”
She looked at him with a flash of something very close to hatred. But he was too intent upon his line of reasoning to see, and in a matter of seconds the look was gone, replaced by a closed, clear, calculating gaze.
“I know little of the life of mistresses, Sinjin,” she said slowly. “Tell me, what becomes of a mistress when the…master grows tired of her?”
“I should never grow tired of you,” he protested, but seeing her unblinking stare, he said quickly, “and as I said, there would be a sum paid. You would never be in need of anything for the rest of your life.”
“And something else, Sinjin,” she said, turning her footsteps to stroll back toward the house, keeping her hands tight together so that he would not see them shaking. “I know little of other…more important matters—in fact, I only learned how to kiss, I am told, the other day, but no matter—how can I be sure that my…lack of abilities in love would please you?”
He stopped her, with a hand on her shoulder. “I know you would please me, Regina,” he said ardently. “Have I not given you proof of that just now? I would dearly love to teach you all you needed to know to please me.” She shook off his hand and strolled on. “But Sinjin,” she said reasonably, “if I learn my lesson well, is there not the possibility of…children? I don’t know certain aspects, but there are certain facts that are inescapable, even to me.”
“Such possibilities can be avoided,” he said, embarrassed by her tone. “There are ways.”
“But not infallible ones?” she asked.
“Should such a thing occur,” he said, feeling uncomfortable and eager to be away from her, to travel to London, to set the wheels of the arrangement in motion, “I am a gentleman. I would, of course, do the right thing, as regards money and care of the issue. But Regina,” he said, “don’t ruin this feeling we have for each other with such imaginings.”
“But Sinjin,” she said, pausing to look up at him with glittering eyes, “surely, the…issue, would not be a thing of my imaginings.”
“I have told you,” he said, unavoidably embarrassed, “that I will teach you many things. One of them will be a way to make such a possibility unlikely. But should the unlikely occur, I will continue to oversee your future, and the future of whatever else might result.”
“But,” she went on in a hard little voice, “how could you bear to contaminate your line…with mine? I am really such a mixed breed compared to you.”
“I would do so gladly,” he swore. “And if your world and mine weren’t so dissimilar, I would do so legally. But what is a slip of paper to us, Regina? What is a five-minute ceremony to do with what I feel for you? I desire you, Regina, in every way a man can desire a woman.”
“Except as a wife,” she laughed. “But what about Amelia, and Lady Mary? What of their feelings when they discover the truth?”
“Why should they?” he asked. “Though you will all be in London, I assure you, your paths will not cross. You will live, as you did before, in different worlds. They will never know.”
“But I should never see them again?” she insisted.
“Why should you?” he replied. “What are they to you?”
They walked in silence until they reached the door, and he halted.
“Go in, it is cold. I will go to London, I am impatient to go. I am eager to have you close to me, without deceit. Tell my sister and Lady Burden that some business has come up. I’ll leave a similar message. You need only to say nothing. I will then send a note to you, purporting to be from—say, your new-found Cousin Sylvia, offering you a home and sanctuary until your majority is reached. Then all you need do is make your farewells, enter the carriage I will have waiting, and a new life will begin for us. I will send for you within a day. Think of nothing but our coming happiness.”
She stood looking at him silently. He took her silence for acquiescence and, lifting her hand to his lips, he murmured, “You will not regret it.” And, turning from her, he strode off.
Regina went into the house and walked quietly up to her room. She sank down upon a chair and buried her face in her hands. And stayed that way, unmoving, scarcely breathing, for a long time. The knock that finally came on the door was soft and hesitant. But after a moment, Regina rose and opened the door. Amelia stood there, unusually pale, with a small wavering smile on her usually composed face.
“May I come in, Regina?” she asked quietly.
Regina only nodded dumbly, and watched Amelia enter and find a small chair. She perched on the edge of it and looked up at Regina. Her gaze was fixed unwavering upon the younger girl.
“I don’t mean to pry, I don’t mean to interfere,” she began, “but, no. That is not worthy of me. Of course, I mean to pry, else I would not be here. I confess. I did see you and St. John…out in the garden. Did he make you an offer, my dear?”
“An offer?” asked Regina, in a high, unnatural voice. “Ah yes, he did make me an offer. A most unexpected one.”
Her worst fears confirmed, Amelia took a long breath and controlled herself.
“No, not unexpected to me. You see, I have noticed how he has looked at you, how he has deferred to you, how he has concerned himself about you.” And Amelia, after one more shuddering sigh, sat silently. Both women stayed quiet for a few moments, Regina fighting for control of herself, Amelia finally allowing her last few vagrant hopes to die quietly.
“And,” Amelia went on, as if there had been no lapse in the conversation, “what answer did you give him, Regina? I must know.”
Regina stared at Amelia, and asked, cruelly, regretting the words the moment they were out, bald and curt, hanging in the air,
“What answer would you have given him, Amelia?”
“Ah,” said Amelia, “then you do know? I was afraid of that. You have the habit of watching people, Regina. Not at all the thing, you know,” she laughed unconvincingly. “I was afraid of that. But since you do know, then surely you know what my answer would have been.”
“You would have said yes?” Regina asked in incredulity.
Amelia did not hear the note of horror in the other girl’s voice, her emotions were riding too high now for her to pick up any nuance of speech. “You need not ask me that,” she said unsteadily. “But I am a realist, Regina. And never, not really ever, did I really believe that he would ask me…no, not really. But your answer, Regina?”
“I gave him none,” Regina said stiffly.
“But you must,” Amelia said, now very agitated. “He has such a care for you. I have never seen him so truly concerned, so wholeheartedly involved. It would be a very good thing for him, it might be the making of him. For I do not delude myself as to his real character. Such a thing might be the very influence he needs to stabilize himself, to…allow himself to grow…to be complete.”
“And do you think such a thing would be good for me too?” Regina asked, awestruck by Amelia’s statement.
“Of course,” Amelia said in excitement. “I am not a complete fool, Regina. I do not know who you are, or even what you are. But I do know that you are in some sort of difficulty, I do know that Jason is involved with you, I do know that Sinjin could not fail to make you happy. Ah Regina, you do not know him as I do. Beneath that veneer he affects, he is good. He is noble. Perhaps he has set his feet upon the wrong course for now, but all that can change. I would swear to it. Regina, please believe me, I do want the best for him. I so want the very best for him. And I feel that you could provide that. Whatever your history, you are young and very beautiful. But more than that, you are wise, and kind and loving. You could give him so much. So much that he needs. You must say ‘yes,’ Regina.” Amelia stopped her discourse and searched for a handkerchief to stop the tears that had begun to flow. “Of all the women he has been involved with,” she went on, muted by the cloth she held to her face, “only you have the soul and spirit he deserves.”
Regina stood staring at Amelia, hating herself and St. John for what they had done to this usually careful and pleasantly composed woman. But still she could not accept what her ears had heard, still she could not understand Amelia’s compliance with St. John’s “offer.”
“Amelia,” she asked, curiously calm, “would you really accept the situation? Do you think it would be such a good thing…considering all the difficulties, not to mention the moral problems?”
But Amelia was almost beyond the limits of rational conversation. “Of course I do,” she whispered, still clutching the handkerchief to her face. “I am trying to be honest, Regina. You know what I hope no other soul on earth knows, and I am trying to say the right thing for both you and St. John. But recollect, that I put his needs first. And I do believe he needs you. How can I in any honesty urge you to say anything but ‘yes,’ feeling as I do? It is what I would say. And as I love…as I have a care for him, I urge you to.”
“Amelia,” Regina asked, so softly she could scarcely hear the words herself, “would you say yes to being his…mistress?”
But Amelia had lost control, and did not understand Regina’s question, or the purpose of it. She only sat weeping, flagellating herself for the despised tears, for the surge of sorrow she had felt when her fears, fears that she had harbored silently for almost a decade, had finally been confirmed. So she did not understand Regina’s question, or the purpose behind it, and only took it as another symbol of her present debasement, an unaccountably cruel thrust by this friend and rival who had stolen all that she knew she could never have.
She rose and went quickly to the door, and answered through a sob, “His mistress, his slave, his footstool…yes to all, why do you do this to me, Regina?” And now weeping openly, she hurried out the door, thinking in her disarray, ah how shall I ever face Sinjin and his lady after this? How shall I greet Regina again, knowing that she knows all I have lost? How shall I be ever able to face the Marquis of Bessacarr and his new wife? And laughing a little madly, she thought as she reached her own room, What shall I wear to their wedding?
Regina shook her head, and shook it again, as if to clear it, like a dazed creature. Then she went slowly to the little inlaid wood desk in her room. She carefully extracted two sheets of paper and, without hesitation, began to write upon one. An hour later she looked down at the two notes, and the six others she had discarded. The one addressed to Amelia began;
“My Dear Lady Burden, I had never until this day understood the vast gulf that separates our two worlds. No, I had never understood that fact, that to all intents and purposes, we did live in different worlds. So I must ignore your advice, for though it might be applicable to a Young Woman of your world, it would not suit mine. My upbringing, perhaps, my petty moral sense, perhaps, but.…
”
The letter to St. John was shorter, and more direct. It comprised only a few lines:
“Your Grace, A very wise man recently told me that there are some men who prefer relationships that are clear-cut, like that of employer and employee. I do not think I could be your employee. I do not think that either your or my spirit could grow in such a relationship. I am not such a person. Therefore, I would not be right for you either. I thank you for all past favors. I am afraid I cannot remain to be your Obedient Servant, Regina Analise Berryman.”
And then, wearily, like a very old woman, she began to pack only those clothes that she had brought with her in the worn suitcase she had brought when first she arrived at Fairleigh.
XIV
St. John let himself into the small house quietly. It was still early in the morning by his standards, not even ten o’clock, and the ladies who dwelt in such large numbers upon this street were obviously still abed, since there was so little activity upon the pavements. How many years, he thought idly, as he opened the door, had he himself wakened, dressed, let himself out silently this early, to find the exterior world of this street so deserted at an hour when the rest of London was bustling with commerce. It was one of the pleasanter attributes of this discrete address, one of the primary reasons why the names of the actual owners of the houses was such a select roster of the peerage.
He felt curiously refreshed and alert for a man who had had so little sleep, who had ridden such a long way in the last afternoon and night. But after only a brief rest and a change of clothes, he had taken himself out on the streets at this ungodly hour to hasten the preparations he was making. He felt some small trepidation at the immediate task before him. Maria had only been installed here for a very little while and might be difficult to dislodge, but he could not suppress the small rush of joy he felt when he allowed himself to imagine her successor.