For a moment I could not focus my eyes on the trim little figure standing beside my bed. Her gentle voice was charged with anxiety which was entirely on my behalf.
I tried hard to sound casually unaffected, forcing a smile.
‘It’s all right, Alice. Just some rather surprising news.’
Dutifully, she appeared to accept what I told her. But I suspected that she didn’t believe me.
‘Will there be anything else, ma’am?’ she asked in a slightly withdrawn voice.
I shook my head.
That evening I had more visitors than usual. The Foxes fitted me in between a late arrival home from a luncheon party, and a visit to Daly’s theatre in the evening.
‘Thought we’d just look you up, dear girl,’ said Albert with a wink. ‘Wondered how you’d be feelin’ after that rumpus in the night.’
His smile was cheerfully indifferent. Ellen’s eyes were cold and hard, blaming me for a lot of fuss about nothing.
I thanked them for their concern, and that was duty done on both sides. They had no desire to linger, and departed almost at once.
Quite soon after that came another tap on the door. It was Esmond. As he entered the room his expression was severe. I had a distinct feeling that he was on his guard against me, as if determined not to be put upon. I recalled yet again Dibble’s vicious insinuation that Esmond was actually expecting Jonathan’s widow to exploit him.
‘I hear you were asking for me this morning, Rachel.’
I felt immediately intimidated. Why did Esmond always sap my confidence like this, and give me such a painful sense of inadequacy? His powerful air of authority was no doubt a wonderful asset in business, but in a personal relationship it was acutely uncomfortable.
Despite Luke’s warning to me, I’d been steeling myself to telling Esmond exactly what had occurred during the night. Somehow or other I intended to make him believe me.
But now that he was confronting me I knew I lacked the courage. I couldn’t bear to have Esmond write me off in his mind as a silly hysterical female.
I was still quite determined to reject his humiliating offer of an annuity, but I would curb my tongue. I would keep silent about Dibble’s outrageous proposition. It was an utterly forlorn hope that Esmond would believe my version of the interview. Dibble had been Harwood’s accountant for some years, a position of high trust, while I ... I, it seemed, had earned a reputation for absurd flights of fancy, quite apart from the extremely low opinion Esmond already held about me.
In any case, the whole sordid episode was now overshadowed by a new and terrible situation.
Blackmail!
Esmond was the man to turn to. He would know exactly what to do. He would soon deal with a blackmailer.
But would he want to? The threats were directed at Jonathan’s good name, and I knew Esmond cared nothing for that. In fact, to have wild and vicious charges made against his cousin might suit Esmond’s purpose very well.
I tried to make my voice coldly angry, but instead it emerged as meek and uncertain.
‘You must have known, Esmond, that I could not possibly accept money from you.’
He looked surprised. Or pretended to look surprised, ‘But why not, Rachel?’
In my confusion, I was unable to find words to answer him. He came a few steps forward. ‘May I sit down?’
I nodded.
Drawing up a chair to the side of the bed, Esmond sat and faced me with dark unyielding eyes.
‘Perhaps you did not fully understand my proposal, Rachel, so allow me to explain. I feel that the wife of any man in Jonathan’s position has the right to expect that he should have made proper provision for her in the event of his death. Jonathan certainly had sufficient income to do this. And even though there is no legal obligation upon his family, I feel that morally we are obliged to make good his omission.’
My resolution was being undermined. In a very low voice, I said, ‘I think there is another reason.’
He sat quite still, his jaw thrust forward. After a moment he prompted me. ‘Please tell me what you mean.’
Because my mind was in such a storm of uncertainty, the words came bursting out in a sudden rush.
‘You have a guilty conscience about Jonathan. You know you treated him shamefully ...’
Esmond laughed at me, a sudden humourless snort. ‘You really believe that?’
‘I know it is true,’ I said with trembling defiance.
‘And how did you come by this curious knowledge?’
I could not meet his angry eyes any longer. I looked down at my hands lying nervously together upon the white counterpane.
‘I know it because Jonathan told me.’
The bark of a laugh came again. ‘And that makes it gospel truth, does it?’
‘Jonathan was my husband,’ I said quietly, with dignity.
He rose to his feet and looked down at me. He seemed immensely tall.
‘Your loyalty does you credit, Rachel, but I’m afraid it does not alter the facts. Perhaps as a man I am accustomed to looking at things as they are, unclouded by emotion.’
Now that I had started denouncing Esmond, I couldn’t stop myself.
‘You sent Jonathan away. You packed him off to Sarawei because you were jealous of his ability. You knew he was the more capable man and you were afraid of him.’
Esmond paced over to the fireplace, and stood staring aggressively at one of the watercolours above the mantel. I knew he was very angry indeed.
After a black silence, he said in a voice heavy with iron self-control, ‘When Jonathan went out to Sarawei, his father was still alive. The firm of Harwoods was at that time owned jointly by my uncle and myself. How do you suppose I was in a position to send away my cousin for such a reason as you suggest? Indeed, for any reason at all?’
Uncomfortably, I persisted. ‘Jonathan’s father was an old man. You must have tricked him somehow into handing over control.’
Still gazing intently at the picture, Esmond said sarcastically: ‘No doubt I also persuaded my uncle to send his son eight thousand miles to a job that simply did not exist?’
‘What do you mean—did not exist?’
‘I mean,’ he said slowly, ‘that Harwoods have no need of a local manager out there. We deal directly with the Sarawei government’s own trading department. My father and my uncle occasionally made the journey to Sarawei, and of course I shall do the same. But there is no work for a permanent local manager.’
‘That is not true,’ I said angrily. ‘Jonathan worked very hard. He was always making trips into the interior.’
There was a pause. ‘Did he indeed? I wonder why?’
Esmond was standing very still, looking down at the fire now, staring into the flames. When he spoke again his voice was soft and much more gentle.
‘Can’t we forget all this, Rachel? It would be the happiest solution all round if you could accept an annuity from me. That would give you the financial independence you want.’
‘It would do nothing of the kind,’ I flared. ‘You are seeking an easy way out, that’s all. Trying to salve your conscience at my expense.’
He didn’t attempt to answer that, but shrugged impatiently.
‘What do you propose to do, then? You know you are welcome to make Edenhythe your permanent home. But you have made it clear that you won’t do that.’
‘No, I certainly will not.’
“But without money, how can you live?’
‘I shall manage, thank you.’
He turned to look at me, displeasure engraved upon his face.
‘Now look here, Rachel—don’t forget I know the full extent of your bank balance. How long do you think you could live on that, even at a most modest level?’
‘I shall manage,’ I repeated stubbornly.
He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Fortunately you cannot think of going just yet—you are simply not well enough. There will be time for you to reconsider.’
‘I shall not change my mind,’ I whispered.
Faint sounds from the river only accentuated the utter silence within the room. Esmond remained standing by the fire, watching me with an expression I could not understand. Then at last he moved so slowly that the stillness was scarcely broken. With his hand outstretched, he came towards me, right up to the side of my bed.
‘Rachel...!’ he murmured softly.
There was a brisk rapping on the door, and Luke came breezing in. At the sight of Esmond he stopped short.
The two brothers stood staring at one another. Then with a nod to me, Esmond strode quickly out of the room.