Virginia Henley (34 page)

“Sacrifice? What are you talking about? It’s my dearest wish to make you my wife. You’re the most desirable woman I’ve ever known; you tempt me every time I look at you.”

“Marriage is out of the question. I wouldn’t be a suitable wife for a man in your position. Here where life is so relaxed, the romantic atmosphere has lulled you into thinking it would be like this, but just stop and consider what it would be like in England. I wouldn’t be accepted; I’d be beyond the pale. You are a duke!”

He threw back his head and laughed. “How innocent you are. English society is completely hypocritical—once you possess the title of duchess they’ll fall over each other beating a path to your door.”

“Charles, I couldn’t bear it if you thought I’d been trying to maneuver you into a proposal.”

“I know full well that isn’t so; in fact, my age probably makes me distasteful to you. I know you can’t love me, especially when you’ve had a handsome young husband, but I’d
cherish you all my days, and I’m looking forward to having the child almost as much as you are. I’ve wanted a son for many years and thought it impossible until now. Think about it; don’t say no. I won’t plague you anymore tonight. After the doctor has a look at you, we’ll talk again.”

When the doctor examined Kitty, he told her that she should be delivered in about two weeks. Charles doubled his efforts at persuading her to marry him before the child was born. As the time drew closer, the housemaids filled her ears with lurid stories of death from childbirth, and Kitty began to panic at what would happen to her child if she did die. She thought seriously about accepting Charles’ proposal, but it seemed such an unequal bargain to her. She would be gaining wealth, a title, security for her child and couldn’t even offer love in return. She firmly rejected the idea, only to have the most appalling nightmares of living in the slums where everyone screamed “bastard!” at her child.

Charles had to work late one evening, and when he returned he went straight to Kitty and said, “I’ve been thinking how selfish it is of me to keep pressing this marriage upon you, my dear. It’s so one-sided, with all the advantages going to me. I’d be getting a beautiful young wife and a child I could pass my title to and all I’d be giving in return is financial security. There are hundreds of men who could do that, all of them closer to your own age.” He stopped when he noticed how white she was about the mouth.

“Charles, don’t get cold feet, just when I was about to accept you.”

“I’ll send for the priest immediately, but in years to come, don’t recriminate me for taking advantage of your fear and vulnerability—even though it’s true.” He smiled.

Though she was trying to conceal it, he could tell that she was experiencing pain, so as soon as his heavy gold ring was
on Kitty’s finger, he lifted her into his arms and hurried upstairs.

“Into bed with you, my duchess; the doctor’s on his way.” Kitty smiled through her tears.

She was not smiling fourteen hours later, when she still was in hard labor but had not delivered. There he was again anxiously hovering over the bed. Poor Charles! His face was haggard; his eyes clearly showed the misery he was feeling. A great surge of anger arose at Patrick. He should be the one pacing the floor in a fever of anxiety over their unborn child. “I bet he’s enjoying himself this very moment.” She stuffed the sheet into her mouth and bit down hard. “By God, I’ll make him pay for this!” she vowed.

When she became conscious the first sound she heard was her son screaming for food. She opened her eyes and looked at the most beautiful creature who had ever existed. Granted, there was an angry red mark on his forehead, left by the forceps, but his eyes were dark blue and he had an appealing crop of black curls. The relief showed clearly on Charles’ face, the grim lines softening as his eyes rested upon mother and child.

“How do you feel?” he asked softly.

“Tired … happy … quite brilliant, really, like I’ve accomplished something worthwhile.”

“And so you have, my dear. Now, Katie here is going to be the baby’s nurse; also, the doctor recommended a wet nurse who delivered a couple of days ago.”

Her eyes were closing sleepily and she stifled a yawn. “Whatever is a wet nurse, Charles?”

“Well … er,” he colored slightly, “wealthy ladies usually don’t feed their babies at their own breasts, since it spoils the figure, so a wet nurse is substituted.”

Kitty laughed delightedly. “Oh, Charles, you make up the most absurd stories to amuse me.”

Charles smiled to himself. She didn’t even believe him, so he might as well keep quiet and let nature take its course the way it was meant to. He kissed her brow. “Rest, my darling. I’ll come back later.”

She was up and about in a week. She had a new reason for being alive, which was obvious to everyone who saw her. To Charles she was a delight. She wore ruffled white dresses with vivid red hibiscus blossoms in her hair, and she sang constantly to the baby.

“Are you happy, Kathleen?” he ventured one evening after she had put the baby to sleep in his cradle.

“Charles, I can’t remember feeling so secure and content in my life.”

He smiled. “We should get him christened.”

“Yes, we will call him Charles … Charles Patrick.”

“You know, that would please me above all things. Are you sure?”

“Yes, very sure,” she said firmly.

“When the baby is a month old, we’ll have our wedding reception. The island society is dying to meet you. I receive questions about you every day from the planters and their wives.”

“Won’t it seem awkward having a wedding reception so many weeks after the wedding? I don’t want to be an embarrassment to you, Charles.”

“You’re not an embarrassment; you’re my salvation. If you like, it can be a large dinner party, but
we
will know it’s our wedding reception. You shall have a whole new wardrobe.” He hesitated. “Kathleen, you aren’t sorry you agreed to be my wife?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m looking forward to being introduced as your wife, and after the reception I’m going to move into the master bedroom, where I belong.”

“Sweetheart, there’s something I should have told you,
but it’s such a source of shame to me that I’ve kept putting it off. I’d die if this information ever got about—in fact, one of the reasons I wanted a wife was to show her off to the world. Now I have a son, and of course everyone thinks it’s my child, and that’s exactly what I want them to think.”

“I don’t think I understand,” said Kitty.

“The thing is, I don’t honestly believe I’m capable of having a child, but I wish the world to think that I am. Is that very despicable of me?”

“I’m delighted to have you as the father of my child. I’ve never met a kinder man, or one I liked more.” She smiled.

He took her hand. “Kathleen, you’ve been married before. May I speak freely about what happens between man and wife?”

“Do you mean in bed?” she whispered.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ve had difficulty in the past. I’m hoping with all my heart that it won’t be so with you, my darling. If we do have trouble along those lines, perhaps not now, but in future years, I beg you never let my dark secret out.”

“Charles, everything will be just right, you’ll see. We made vows to each other, and no matter what happens, I’ll never break mine.”

“May I hold you?” he asked humbly.

She ran to him eagerly and he curled up with her in his lap. She smoothed the worry lines from his brow, relaxing against the warmth of him. He took her hands in his and kissed her fingertips, then her wrists. His lips traced a pattern up her throat and then quite naturally his lips sought hers. Their kisses grew bolder. Kitty was pleasantly surprised at how nice his mouth was. It was firm and dry and he made it very plain that he adored her. Charles was deliriously happy as he felt the blood surge through his veins, giving the lie to the secret fears he harbored. When he left her to her slumber,
he had no doubts that everything would be fine on the night of their wedding reception.

Charles decided to hold the reception at four, so that it would be over at a reasonable hour. Some of the planters’ parties lasted all night. Of course, they were huge drinking binges where the women retired and left the men to it. He was determined this affair would not degenerate into such a brawl and thought a good way of keeping decorum was to make everything as formal as possible. The men would kick, but the women would adore every moment. He wanted to dispense with any dancing. For one thing, it was too hot for such exertions, but primarily he didn’t want his bride danced off her feet by every loutish planter on the island. He considered setting up card tables, but rejected the idea immediately. They’d never leave once they started gambling. No, he’d have to come up with some sort of entertainment. They’d open up the gardens after dinner so people could stroll about in the evening breezes. Something to keep the men entertained; perhaps native dancers in their brief costumes. For the ladies, perhaps those fellows who walked on fire. Then something that bored them all to tears so they would take their departure.

“Collins, I hear your wife has a wonderful program of Italian opera she entertains with at parties?” he remarked to his secretary.

The chef’s helpers at Government House had all come from the island of Martinique, and the kitchens rang with a mixture of French and Creole. Kitty took great pains with the menu, begging Charles’ superior advice whenever she was unsure.

“My darling, the best advice I ever received, I’ll willingly pass along to you. When in doubt, do nothing! It’s done wonders for my career,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m so ignorant, Charles!” she wailed.

“Why do you suppose I pay the chef such exorbitant wages? Because he’s an expert, so just let him get on with it. What about your gown?”

“You are just trying to change the subject, and besides, it’s a secret. I’m going to impress you immensely with my taste. My choice has to be impeccable, something in which the governor’s wife will be the epitome of respectability.”

“Respectability is bourgeois,” he teased.

“Trust me about the gown. Now, do you think clear turtle soup would be acceptable?”

He sighed. “Oh, love, don’t you think it’s a bit warm for soup?”

“Oh, please, Charles, it sounds so elegant!”

“Ah, so that’s to be the criterion, is it? Then we should have
ratatouille!
Does that sound elegant enough for you?”

“Oh, yes, please. What is
ratatouille?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a beast to tease you so. That means poor stew, bad stuff, a mess.”

She laughed with him and he slipped his arms about her and drew her down onto his knee. “That reminds me of the time I was invited to dinner in Lancashire—there’re some incredibly bad cooks in Lancashire, by the way—and believe it or not, everything they put on the table was …”

“Boiled!” she finished his sentence for him.

“Exactly! When they brought the dessert it was a huge congealed mass of boiled treacle pudding. They eat so much treacle pudding in Lancashire, their feet stick to the floor when they walk,” he said and laughed.

“Oh, but, Charles, when you’re ravenous, nothing gets rid of hunger pains faster.”

He looked at her tenderly. “Let’s go up and have a look at our son.”

*   *   *

Kitty’s gown was eggshell georgette, delicately fluted and pleated. Tiny buttons ran up the back and from wrist to elbow. Charles brought her orchids.

“You’re so lovely you take my breath away,” he whispered.

“Charles, I’m so nervous about meeting everyone, I’m terrified of making stupid blunders, and I do so want you to be proud of me,” she said anxiously.

“Come. Our first guests are starting to arrive. I assure you that you pass muster.”

“You go on; I’ll be along in a moment, dear.”

Katie was in the adjoining dressing room with the baby. His cradle had been moved in earlier. Kitty had moved her things into the master bedroom, and now that she was alone, she looked the room over apprehensively. The bed loomed large in the center of the room and she wondered how she was going to bring herself to share it with her new husband. The ordeal of the crowd below seemed small by comparison, so she took a deep breath and went down to meet her guests. Charles awaited her at the foot of the stairs, smiling encouragement. He took her arm and together they stood in the reception hall. Kitty was amazed when the gentlemen bowed deeply to her and the ladies curtsied and murmured a reverent “Your Grace.” At first the women were dismayed when they saw how beautiful she was, but when they watched her turn aside their husbands’ compliments without attempts at flirtation, and when she addressed herself almost exclusively to the wives, they relaxed and included her in their conversations about servants, children, the weather, the crops and the latest fashions.

The menu she had chosen brought many compliments as the servants brought in silver platters heaped with delicacies. The wine flowed into tall goblets and she noted with surprise that Charles drank only mineral water. She thought she
would do the same, since she was unused to wine and its effects. After dinner the guests wandered into the gardens to get the sea breezes. Kitty sought out Charles. “I have to go up and feed the baby. Do you think they will miss me for a little while?”