and I will allow you to pay me off and relieve your own guilt by offering me
Small Bess.”
He stared down at me, no hint of a smile in evidence. Oh, dear, I wasn’t
treating this with the appropriate gravitas.
“I am perfectly serious now, Lawrence. Forgive me for making light of things.”
He waved away my apology and paced again. “Sit down,” he said over his shoulder.
I went to the large, dark brown leather wing chair close to the fireplace, and
sat.
He leaned against the edge of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “I was
married, Andy. Thirteen years ago, I married Caroline.”
Caroline, I thought, a lovely name. “Tell me about her,” I said.
He closed his eyes a moment over a pain that was still greatly felt even after
all these many years had passed. He cleared his throat. “It was such a long time
ago. Caroline Farraday was the daughter of Wilson Farraday, Viscount Clarence.
She was so lovely, so spirited and gay. She saw the world and all in it there to
be at her command, and most people were quite willing to do anything at all for
her.” Another look of pain crossed his face, and he raised his hand as if to
brush it away. I held my tongue. This was highly personal, these memories that
had deeply scored his heart.
“Even though I was a good deal older than she, she wanted me and informed her
father that she would wed no one else. And so we were wed in London. I took her
to Cornwall on our wedding trip, a place she believed vastly romantic.
“It was only after I brought her back to Devbridge Manor that I began to
understand her true nature. That is to say, Caroline was inclined to be
vivacious one day, nearly giddy, she laughed so very much, and the very next day,
she would be silent and sad, withdrawn, as if she’d lost her best friend. I
never knew which woman would appear across from me at the breakfast table.
“When she became pregnant not long after we married, I rather hoped that the
child would steady her. And it was true that during the months of her pregnancy
she seemed more stable, her outlook more normal, if you will.
“In those days, neither Thomas nor John were here much, both of them at Eton. I’ll
never forget though that when they did visit, she became worse. She neither
spoke nor ate. She resented them, I realized quickly enough. Obviously it was
because she wanted her child, a boy child, to follow in my footsteps; and indeed,
if she had birthed a boy, he would be my heir. I told her this, but it made no
difference. She didn’t want to have anything to do with either of the boys. I
asked Thomas and John to stay away, to visit friends on their vacations. They
both felt very sorry for me, I believe, and I felt immensely guilty.
“But nothing I did seemed to matter. Toward the end of her pregnancy, Caroline
became more unpredictable by the day. I never knew what to expect, none of us
did, including her physician. She would simply disappear, only to be found up in
the old north tower, huddled in a corner, her eyes wide, staring, no explanation
of why she had even gone up there. She insisted on riding her mare even though
she was large with child. She never fell, thank God. I found her trying to chase
down rats in the hay barn one afternoon. One night Brantley found her dancing in
a heavy downpour. Once a servant found her wading in the stream, discussing with
an invisible person how fine it would be to drown.
“I had no choice but to order a woman to be with her all the time. I was
terrified that if she didn’t try to harm herself, she would harm her unborn babe.”
“The bars in The Blue Room,” I said. “They were for Caroline.”
“You noticed the holes, then? Yes, of course you did. I didn’t believe them that
obvious.” He paused yet again, and drew a very deep breath. “One time I came