The Secrets of Armstrong House Page 13

  She got home and went to the store room and searched amongst the bottles until she found what she was looking for. She took the bottle of rat poison and walked up the stairs to her room where she locked the door. She then unscrewed the bottle and put it on her dressing table. She sat down, staring at her snow-white reflection in the mirror.

  chapter 18

  Charles tried not to think about Arabella’s situation when he got back to Armstrong House. The whole thing was far too distressing to give much thought to, he reasoned. When he compared the beautiful independent wilful Arabella who he had first met to the scared desperate girl in the park, it was hard to equate them. As if he could marry her! What on earth was she thinking? He hoped he had explained the situation adequately to her. He wondered what would become of her. As he had said, her parents were kind and wealthy. Perhaps they might find a lowly bank clerk with few brains who could be quickly cajoled into marrying her. Or there was the case of that daughter from a ‘big house’ they knew in Cork who was flirtatious and loved men’s attention and who suddenly disappeared for one year off the social scene. Rumours abounded she was in a convent in France. When she returned she was a different girl who never went to parties and spent all the day doing tapestry, a hobby she had picked up in the French convent, they said, while she waited to give birth to her baby. What a stupid girl Arabella was, and he thought she had been so intelligent! She could have had the best of all worlds. Marriage to Harrison and the Armstrong name. And she could have had Charles until they became bored with each other. But she had played her cards ridiculously wrong and now could be destroyed.

  Returning from a ride some days later, he dismounted in the forecourt of Armstrong House and gave the reins to a stable lad. Then he bounded up the steps and in the front door.

  He threw his coat onto a sideboard and walked into the drawing room where he got a start. On one couch sat his parents and on the other couch sat Arabella and her parents. All had stony solemn faces except for Margaret whose face was red and tearstained from crying.

  “Come in, Charles, and close the door behind you. I’ve told Barton we are not to be disturbed,” said Lawrence.

  Emily had been waiting for Charles in the small parlour across from the drawing room. She had seen Arabella and her parents arrive earlier from her bedroom window and, realising all must not be right, she had looked for Charles everywhere. Unfortunately a maid entered the room with a laden coalscuttle just at the wrong moment and the noise of her tending to the fire cloaked the sound of Charles’ arrival. As the maid left Emily flew to the window and spotted Charles disappearing in the front door. She rushed out into the hall to warn him but she was just too late. She saw him entering the drawing room and close the door slowly behind him. She thought for a few moments and then seeing there was nobody about, rushed across the hallway and put her ear against the keyhole of the door to listen in.

  A million thoughts went racing through Charles’ mind as he closed the door and walked into the room.

  “Take a seat,” ordered Lawrence.

  Charles sat down in the armchair that had obviously been positioned there for him between the two couches.

  In the silence and with the cold stares, Charles decided to take control and said, “I can guess why you’re all here.”

  “Is it true?” asked Lawrence.

  Charles knew there was no point in denying it at this stage. “Yes.”

  “Ohhh!” cried Margaret as her handkerchief came to her face and tears began to spill again. “How could you, Charles, with your own brother’s fiancée!”

  “I have no excuse,” he said.

  “And neither do you!” Margaret snapped at Arabella.

  “Perhaps,” said Caroline sternly, “if you kept a tighter control on what goes on under your roof, this would never have happened, Lady Armstrong!”

  “My roof! Who said anything about under my roof?” Margaret was furious.

  “Well, it must have happened when she visited here. When else could it have happened?”

  “Nothing untoward has ever happened under my roof! From what I hear, your daughter is left without a chaperone a great deal of time!”

  “I don’t think it matters how the situation occurred,” said Lawrence in a powerful voice. “All we need to concern ourselves with now is that it has occurred and what we do from here.”

  “Well, we all know what needs to be done. He must marry her without delay,” said George in an equally powerful voice.

  “Are they agreeable to this?” asked Lawrence, looking at Arabella and Charles.

  “Who gives a damn if they are agreeable!” George’s voice rose further. “I will not have my daughter and name destroyed over this.”

  “Nevertheless,” said Lawrence, “we need their consent.” He turned to Arabella. “Will you marry Charles?”

  Arabella had been staring ahead unfalteringly since she arrived. She glanced quickly at Charles and said, “Yes.”

  Lawrence nodded and then turned to Charles. “Are you willing to marry Arabella and accept this is your child?”

  Charles glanced at the Tattingers who looked as if they were ready to have him killed. “Yes.” He looked at Arabella. “Of course I’ll marry Arabella. It was never in question that I wouldn’t.”

  There was an audible feeling of relief around the room.

  Margaret, who looked heartbroken, said between her sniffles, “We’ll try to arrange the marriage as soon as possible.”

  “But what about the banns?” said George. “Either the banns will have to be called, for three Sundays in advance of the wedding, or a special marriage licence obtained from the bishop.”

  “Leave that to me,” said Margaret. “The bishop is a close friend of ours who is, by the way, a most discreet man. I’ll travel to see him this very day. He can officiate at the wedding himself in the chapel at the Bishop’s Palace, hopefully on Monday morning.”

  “That should give enough time to get the licence,” said Lawrence.

  “We’ll have nobody in attendance at the service but ourselves,” Margaret went on. “Nobody must ever find out about this, for the sake of us all! Not even our other children.”

  “Well, I imagine everyone is going to realise something is the matter,” said Caroline. “When one minute she is engaged to Harrison, and the next minute married to Charles!”

  “And then when the baby arrives too soon!” George pointed out.

  “They can’t return to Dublin or stay at Armstrong House. Everyone knows them here. They must go away for a while, until after the baby is born,” said Margaret.

  “Where to?” asked Caroline.

  “They can go and live in our house in London for most of the pregnancy. When it comes to near the time the child is to be born they must travel abroad and have the child delivered there. Then after a while return to London and register the child’s birth incorrectly in order to arouse no suspicion the child was conceived before the marriage.”

  “Fraud! Fraud on top of everything else!” shouted George, horrified.

  “We have no choice,” stated Lawrence.

  Arabella sat back, amazed at Margaret. The woman was obviously as efficient at organising a cover-up as she was at organising a ball or a wedding.

  “And . . . and what about after the baby is born?” asked Arabella meekly.

  “You’re to go to London and keep a low profile for a while, until it all blows over. Out of sight, out of mind,” said Margaret. “Arabella was never presented at court or did the season in London so she’s not known there like she is known in Dublin. They can stay there until so much time has elapsed that it won’t matter any more.”

  “It sounds the best way to avoid any scandal,” acknowledged Caroline.

  Everyone sat in silence. “Well, that’s that then!” said George.

  “Not for us, Sir George. We have the little matter of Harrison who will obviously need to be informed of Charles and Arabella’s forthcoming wedding and how we are going to dea
l with him I do not know!” said Margaret.

  Caroline nodded and coughed. “I think everyone is in agreement that Harrison is the true victim here. We all feel sorry for him.”

  Arabella’s impassivity broke and she quickly wiped away a tear.

  “There’s just the other small matter of the dowry,” said Charles, sitting up.

  “Charles!” shouted Lawrence in horror.

  “You can speak about money at a time like this?” George nearly screamed.

  “Well, I have to be practical. If I’m taking on the responsibility of a wife and child, I’ll need funds. Father is in perfect health, so hopefully it will be some time before I come into the Armstrong estate and its income.”

  “Unbelievable!” stated George in disgust.

  “I need to know where I stand – under the circumstances.”

  George stood up. “I’ll double her bloody dowry – under the circumstances. Is that enough bloody money for you?”

  Margaret stood up, flushed and embarrassed. “I’ll have Barton make up some rooms for you for tonight.”

  “No need!” said George unpleasantly. “I wouldn’t spend another night in this house. We’ll stay in a hotel in Castlewest.”

  George went storming out and Arabella and Caroline stood up.

  “We’ll see you at the wedding on Monday,” said Caroline curtly and she and Arabella quickly left after George.

  “A May wedding!” exclaimed Margaret. “We used to say – marry in May and rue the day!”

  Margaret and Lawrence stared at Charles as he took out a cigarette and lit it, his hands slightly shaking.

  “You’ve ruined your life!” declared Margaret.

  “Have you anything to say in your defence?” asked Lawrence.

  “I’m afraid not. Guilty as charged,” said Charles as he managed to take a drag of his cigarette.

  “You’ve let us down terribly,” said Lawrence. “But you’ve let Harrison down even more. I suppose I’d better tell him what’s been happening,” said Lawrence as he looked at the fear on Margaret and Charles’ faces.

  Lawrence knocked on Harrison’s door and entered. He found him lying on the bed.

  “How are you today?” he asked, sitting on the bed beside him.

  “The same as yesterday and the day before,” said Harrison.

  Lawrence said nothing as he searched for the right words to tell Harrison what had happened.

  “Were there visitors earlier?” asked Harrison in a disinterested fashion. “I heard some commotion downstairs.”

  “Yes, there were . . . it was Arabella and her parents.”

  Harrison sat up straight, his face a mixture of excitement and confusion. “Arabella! Why didn’t you call me?”

  “She didn’t come to see you, Harrison.” Lawrence put his hand on Harrison’s shoulder. “Son, I need you to prepare yourself for what I’m about to tell you . . .”

  Harrison became extremely agitated as Lawrence said nothing more. “Well, tell me – damn you!”

  “There’s no easy way . . . there’s no easy way to say this . . . Arabella and Charles have fallen in love. They are to be married. I presume . . . I presume that is why she broke off her engagement with you.”

  Lawrence studied his son’s face as it went from a strange deathly pale to a bright red in a few seconds. Suddenly Harrison leapt from the bed but his legs gave way from under him and he fell to the floor.

  “Harrison!” shouted Lawrence, rushing to his assistance.

  As Harrison lay on the floor, he suddenly started laughing hysterically.

  “Harrison!” pleaded Lawrence, kneeling beside him.

  “Arabella and Charles!” gasped Harrison through his laughter as if he had been told the best joke ever. Then suddenly the laughter stopped as quickly as it began and, as he scrambled to his feet with Lawrence’s assistance, Harrison’s face became a mask of distraught horror.

  “She would never – he would never –” he stuttered.

  Lawrence nodded sadly. Harrison tore himself away from Lawrence and raced from the room.

  Charles was in the library holding a decanter of whiskey as he poured himself another full glass and downed it in one. Suddenly the door swung open and Harrison came rushing in like a madman.

  “You fucking bastard!” screamed Harrison as he marched right over to Charles and punched him in the face. The decanter went flying through the air and crashed to the ground as Charles was knocked to the floor.

  Harrison jumped on top of him, put his hands around Charles’ neck and started to strangle him.

  “You couldn’t leave her alone, could you? You had to take her, even though you knew she was mine!” he screamed as Charles tried to remove Harrison’s hands from around his throat.

  “Barton!” shouted Lawrence as he came into the room and viewed the spectacle on the ground before him. He rang the bell frantically then rushed to his sons and tried to pull Harrison away from Charles, but his younger son was so overcome with anger it was impossible.

  A few seconds later Barton came rushing in.

  “For pity’s sake, help me, man!” pleaded Lawrence.

  Barton and Lawrence managed to pull Harrison away.

  Charles sat up, choking and coughing.

  Harrison pointed at Charles. “I never want to see you again. You and that bitch are welcome to each other – you deserve each other!” Turning, he stormed out of the room.

  Lawrence stood shaking his head as he observed Charles trying to gasp for air.

  chapter 19

  Caroline came into her daughter’s bedroom in the small hotel in Castlewest, holding a tray with a sandwich on it.

  “I got the kitchen to prepare this for you,” said Caroline.

  “I’m not hungry.” Arabella pushed the tray away.

  “You have to eat something, Arabella – you’re eating for two now.”

  “Don’t I know!”

  Caroline sat on the bed and started stroking her daughter’s hair.

  “I received a note from Margaret. The marriage is to be tomorrow at eleven at the Bishop’s Palace. As practical as ever, she’s given excellent instructions how to get there.” She crossed over to the wardrobe and started looking through the three or four dresses Arabella had brought with her. “We have to choose what you will wear.”

  “Oh, does it matter at this stage?”

  Caroline came and sat beside her again. “You know I always imagined you with a great big wedding, like the one Gwyneth had.”

  Arabella’s voice was heavy with cynicism. “Sorry to disappoint you, Mama, but tomorrow is going to be a far cry from Gwyneth’s. A pregnant bride, a reluctant groom and the guests being just the two sets of parents to ensure the whole damned thing takes place!”

  “Hardly a reluctant groom, perhaps just a surprised one.”

  “You didn’t see his face the day I told him in the park. It’s a shotgun wedding, pure and simple.”

  Caroline sighed loudly “You’ve been very stupid, Arabella, we all know that. And very cruel to Harrison. But what’s done is done. And now luckily it’s working out for the best.”

  “Only because it’s been forced on Charles.”

  “But you do have feelings for him?”

  Arabella nodded. “Unfortunately, I love him . . . I hate him too, for what he’s put me through with all this.”

  “But you do love him, and tomorrow you are going to marry the man you love . . . that’s the important thing, no matter what the circumstances are.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes, and you have to think of the future now. With this funny twist of faith you are marrying the Armstrong heir. You will one day be Lady Armstrong and this child you are carrying will also be the heir.”

  “I don’t care about any of that.”

  “I know, but I’m just trying to make you realise you have new responsibility now and you’ll have to live up to it. You might love Charles, but these past few days have shown you can never trust him
or rely on his love. You’ll have to be one step ahead of him at all times. Never take him or your marriage for granted. You’re entering the Armstrong family under difficult circumstances. You have to show them and the world and, most importantly, Charles, that you are a great woman who deserves the title and position you will now get. You have to, in order to have a happy future.”

  Arabella thought about Harrison. “And can you have a happy future that has been built on somebody else’s misery?”

  Lawrence came into the bedroom that night and saw Margaret, looking exhausted, lying back in her pillows.

  “I tried Harrison again, but his door is locked and he won’t answer.”

  “Do you think we should break the door down?” asked Margaret, sitting up, concerned.

  “No, he just wants to be alone – he won’t thank us for doing that.”

  “I’m in shock, Lawrence. That we have gone from the highs of Gwyneth’s wedding to this sordid secret affair in a matter of weeks . . . To think Arabella will be Lady Armstrong and be the head of this family one day. A woman like that!”

  “You used to think she was marvellous,” he pointed out.

  “That was before I realised what she was like. Your parents Edward and Anna, bless them, would be mortified if they were alive to see that the future of this family is now in her hands.”

  Lawrence took Margaret’s hand and tried to comfort her. “My parents were very pragmatic about these things. They understood destiny and nature and let it take its course. And they would just see this as nature bringing the next heir to Armstrong House . . . in its own way.”

  “And what a way!”