As the door closed behind Esmond, Luke came swiftly across to me.
‘What has he been saying to you, Rachel?’
‘Why ... nothing really,’ I said quickly. How could I tell him of the bitter exchanges between Esmond and me? How could I tell Luke of that strangely charged moment he had interrupted?
Luke sat on the edge of the bed and took my hand. His voice was as searching as his eyes. ‘Something has upset you, my dear.’
‘You could hardly expect me to be perfectly calm,’ I said, ‘after what happened last night.’
‘Your nightmare?’ He dismissed it carelessly. ‘There is something more than that upsetting you. I can see it in your eyes, Rachel. Has Esmond been saying unpleasant things about Jonathan?’
Blood stormed into my cheeks. Luke had struck shrewdly close to the heart of my muddled terrors. He was so kind and gentle and sympathetic that I felt encouraged to tell him of the dreadful blackmail threat.
I whispered in a tight voice: ‘It is not really anything Esmond said, but...’
‘Then he did say something!’ Luke exclaimed, leaping upon my words. ‘I thought as much. What was it he told you?’
I hesitated. ‘He said...’ Suddenly I was gripping Luke’s hand tightly. ‘Why was Jonathan sent out to Sarawei? Please tell me. Please ... !’
I sensed his withdrawal. He said very carefully, ‘What did Esmond tell you about that?’
‘He implied that it was Jonathan’s father who sent him away. Is that true, Luke?’
‘Yes. It’s quite true.’
‘But why?’
‘Didn’t Esmond explain?’
‘No.’
‘And what did Jonathan himself tell you about it?’
‘He blamed everything on Esmond. He said that Esmond had him sent away through jealousy—through fear of his greater ability.’
Luke was shaking his head. ‘Poor old Jonathan! I’m afraid he invented that story, Rachel.’
I let go Luke’s hand, pushing it away. I felt bereft, cold and alone. Luke too was robbing me of the Jonathan I had known and loved. Destroying my cherished memory of happiness.
I was too proud to ask any more questions. How could I discuss Jonathan with any third person? It would be unforgivably disloyal. What man existed who had no faults, no hidden weaknesses?
I thought of Esmond, and the mistress he was keeping concealed from the world. Yet Esmond could feel himself justified in adopting a high moral tone with me.
They were all ready to cast their stones now poor Jonathan was dead and could not answer them back. Even Luke, the one I had trusted.
It seemed, though, that Luke understood my sudden desolation.
‘Please don’t be upset, Rachel. I was Jonathan’s friend, remember. You told me he said so himself.’
‘Then I don’t see how you can...’
‘Surely if any man is entitled to criticise him, it’s me? I always stood up for him as far as I could, and I always will. But Jonathan was by no means perfect, Rachel. He was only human, like the rest of us.’
Luke was echoing my own thoughts, and my anger began to fade.
‘But it hurts so much to hear Jonathan disparaged.’
‘Of course it does.’
‘And whatever Esmond says about Harwoods not needing a representative in Sarawei, Jonathan did do a lot of work for the firm. When I think of all the journeys he made, right upriver into the interior. In some of those places it is still quite dangerous for a white man. I was always frightened when he was away, but Jonathan never once complained.’
‘No, I can believe that.’ Luke paused, and went on thoughtfully, ‘But it would be unwise—it would be quite useless, in fact—to talk to Esmond any more about all the hard work Jonathan put in. My brother has his own fixed opinions, and nothing you say will change them. Leave well alone, Rachel. Be content that you and I know the truth.’
I had no intention of saying anything more to Esmond. For all the brief flashes of sympathy between us, there seemed to be a basic antagonism—a tension I felt was growing stronger every time we met. And now, from Dibble, I knew what Esmond really thought of me. Surely the less we saw of one another, the less we put into words, the better it would be.
Yet—if it were really true that he’d had nothing to do with Jonathan’s banishment from England, then I owed Esmond an apology. Could it be that his offer of an annuity revealed his generous nature, and a sensitive regard for my feelings? Perhaps it was not, as I’d been supposing, a sign of a guilty conscience.
It was very quiet in the room. The gas popped gently once or twice, and coals in the grate settled with a faint dry rustle. I could hear Luke’s breathing, slow and deep. He still sat perched on the edge of my bed, watching me earnestly. I think he was trying to read my mind.
I said suddenly, ‘Did you know that Esmond had offered me an annuity?’
‘An annuity?’ Luke was astounded. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Esmond has suggested that I should have three hundred pounds a year. His idea was to make me independent. But I refused the offer.’
Luke’s eyes opened wide, as if he could not contain his surprise. ‘But why did you refuse?’
‘I ... it seemed the right thing to do.’
His astonished expression relaxed. He smiled at me.
‘It must have been a difficult decision to make, my dear. But I agree you have done the right thing. Without doubt.’
Coming from Luke, this sounded odd. Hadn’t he all along urged me to accept whatever his family offered? To put aside any idea of leaving Edenhythe?
He explained hurriedly, ‘You wouldn’t wish to be under a continuing obligation—not to Esmond, of all people. Now if I were in a position to help you like that, I flatter myself that you’d feel free to accept. Alas, though, I have neither the capital nor the income to make a worthwhile settlement on you.’
‘How sweet of you, Luke! But even if you could, I’d not dream of accepting your money. It wouldn’t be fair.’
He smiled at me, and it was that private smile of warm friendship I knew so well.
“You know, there is another factor to be considered.’ He was speaking carefully, watching for my reaction. ‘An income that had been provided by Esmond might well turn out to be an acute embarrassment for you, one day.’
I had to ask Luke what he meant.
‘Well ... you must forgive me, Rachel, but a charming young woman like yourself, intelligent and with great spirit—it is perfectly obvious that you will one day marry again.’
‘Oh please, Luke! You mustn’t talk like that.’ I felt strangely distressed, caught up in flurry of conflicting emotions. ‘It’s ... it’s such a little time ago that Jonathan died.’
Luke smiled wistfully, murmuring upon an expiring breath: ‘He will indeed be a lucky man, that’s all I can say. The luckiest devil on this earth!’
I couldn’t even think about marrying again. It might well be prudent for a young widow to consider her future in such terms, but for me it was vital to keep Jonathan’s memory alive. Without that my life would have been meaningless.
Seeing my distress, Luke was quick to apologise. ‘I’m a thoughtless ass to speak like that, especially ... especially when I can see you’ve got something serious weighing on your mind.’
I said warily: ‘I don’t know what you mean?’
‘I think you do, Rachel. As soon as I walked into the room, I knew that something was causing you great concern. At first I thought Esmond had upset you, but now I realise there is something much worse. Am I not right?’
I was tempted to share the burden of my dreadful secret with him, and yet... Nervously, I fingered the white counterpane.
‘Come now, my dear, you know you can confide in me.’ He reached out again, resting his fingers lightly upon the sleeve of my nightgown. ‘Just give me a chance to help you, that is all I ask.’
I shook my head weakly.
‘You and I, Rachel, are in tune together. I can sense that you are in some sort of trouble, but I cannot know what it is unless you tell me.’
I said tonelessly, ‘I’m afraid there is nothing you could do about it.’
Luke got to his feet suddenly. But he stayed close to the bed, forcing me to look up at his tall straight figure.
‘Please allow me to judge that, Rachel,’ he said severely. ‘Surely I have a right to know of anything that is troubling you.’ In a whisper, he added, ‘Out of friendship, if nothing more.’
I longed to tell him about the blackmail letter. But would that open the door for revelations about Jonathan that I could not bear to hear?
All at once Luke was kneeling at my bedside, his eyes filled with sad sympathy. Those fresh grey eyes reminded me so poignantly of Jonathan—they were meant for laughter, but they could touch the heart.
‘I want so much to be of service to you, Rachel, my dearest,’ he murmured softly.
And then I was crying, and I knew I must tell him everything. Come what may, I could hold back no longer.
Without a word he rose to his feet and moved away. He stood as Esmond had done, staring down into the red embers of the fire. He knew I was going to confide in him now, and he was giving me time to collect myself.
I dried my eyes, and took the letter from beneath my pillow.
‘Perhaps you had better read this, Luke.’
Looking towards me again, he raised his eyebrows.
‘A letter?’
‘It came today, by hand.’
He appeared to be reluctant. ‘Very well, Rachel. If you really wish me to read it.’
He took the sheet of paper, and held it nearer the light. He scanned it quickly, but went on standing there in silence. He was turned away from me now, and I could not see his face.
‘Well, Luke...?’
Still he did not reply at once. When at length he swung back, his expression was grave and full of compassion.
‘I had no idea it could be so bad,’ he said slowly.
I was swept by a tidal wave of fear. ‘What... what does it mean?’
Luke was fingering the letter as if he wanted to be rid of it.
‘Somebody outside the family knows about Jonathan— that’s what it means.’ His throat sounded tight.
‘What is it they know, Luke? What did Jonathan do?’
There was no going back. I wanted to hear no more than Luke wanted to speak of it. But we had to go on.
His eyes were meltingly soft with pity. ‘Have you really no idea at all, Rachel?’
‘None,’ I said, shaking my head.
Luke began slowly. *I don’t know exactly what it would be called in law. Fraud, or misappropriation of funds— something like that.’
‘You mean—he stole money?’ I whispered.
‘Only from the firm,’ Luke said quickly. ‘A number of cheques meant for Harwoods were paid into Jonathan’s personal account.’
It was bad enough, certainly. But less bad than I had begun to fear.
I asked faintly, ‘Do you mean he was sent out of the country in disgrace for that? Why couldn’t he have been allowed to repay the money from his salary? Why couldn’t he have been let off with a warning?’
‘He was,’ Luke said quietly. ‘The first time.’
‘The first time?’ I echoed stupidly.
Luke nodded. ‘And the second time, too. But Jonathan grew more and more subtle. However closely his father watched him, he always seemed to find some way of manipulating the books. In the end my uncle wouldn’t stand for any more of it. The old man was so enraged that he was on the point of turning Jonathan out without a penny piece.’
It was a horrible story. Horrible, because I could believe it! Every word fitted with an aspect of Jonathan’s character that I had always known in my heart. He had used the firm’s money as lightly as he had later used mine, gambling it away recklessly. And when he had ‘borrowed’ once, the next time and the next would have been easier. Always, just around the corner, was the big win that would put everything right.
But could I blame poor Jonathan now for something I should have acknowledged to myself all along? Gambling was his weakness. In the fierce joy of loving him, I had loved too uncritically—perhaps that was my weakness. I had buried the harsh truth under layers of facile self-deceit.
I lay back limply upon the pillows, too enveloped in distress to say anything. Luke’s voice came through to me, filled with hopeless, helpless regrets.
‘If only there was something more I could have done. I knew old Jonathan hated the very idea of going out to Sarawei, but I couldn’t see any other way for him.’
I found myself saying, ‘So his banishment wasn’t really anything at all to do with Esmond?’
‘Not in the way you mean,’ Luke said. ‘But Esmond backed me up over the Sarawei plan. We thought it would give Jonathan a chance to start afresh.’
‘I’m afraid he didn’t see it like that,’ I said sadly. ‘He always hated Sarawei.’
Silent seconds passed. Minutes, perhaps. It could have been hours. Just the faint insistent hissing of the gas jets in the background; and Luke’s pitying eyes watching me.
Then he was speaking again. His words were a hollow resonance within my brain, but his meaning was piercingly clear.
‘I’m afraid, Rachel, there is no choice for us. We must pay this blackmailer what he asks.’