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Chapter Thirty Six
The memories of her slight friendship with the Leighs – slight in the rareness of their meetings – grew and grew as the days passed on, till Kate Wilton found herself constantly thinking of the brother and sister she had left at Northwood. Jenny’s bright face was always obtruding itself, seeming to laugh from the pages of the dull old German book over which she pored; and it became a habit in her solitary life to sit and dream and think over it, as it slowly seemed to change; the merry eyes grew calm and grave, the broad forehead broader, till, though the similarity was there, it was the face of the brother, and she would close the book with a startled feeling of annoyance, feeling ready to upbraid herself for her want of modesty – so she put it – in thinking so much of one of whom she knew so little.
At such times she began to suffer from peculiar little nervous fits of irritation, which were followed by long dreamy thoughts which troubled her more than ever, respecting what the Leighs would think of her flight.
Music, long talks with Sarah Plant, efforts to try and draw out poor Becky, everything she could think of to take her attention and employ her mind, were tried vainly. The faces of the brother and sister would obtrude more and more, as her nervous fretfulness increased, and rapidly now the natural struggle against her long imprisonment increased.
She tried hard to conceal it from Garstang, and believed that he did not notice it, but it was too plain. Her efforts to appear cheerful and bright at breakfast time and when he came back at night, grew forced and painful; and under his calm smiling demeanour and pleasant chatty way of talking to her about current events, he was bracing himself for the encounter which he knew might have to take place at any moment.
It was longer than he anticipated, but was suddenly sprung upon him one evening after an agonising day, when again and again Kate had had to fight hard to master the fierce desire to get away from the terrible solitude which seemed to crush her down.
She knew that she was unwell from the pressure of her solitary life upon her nerves; the thoughts which troubled her magnified themselves; and now with terrible force came the insistent feeling that she had behaved like a weak child in not bravely maintaining her position at her uncle’s house, and forcing him to fulfill his duty of protector to his brother’s child.
“Is it too late? Am I behaving like a child now?” she asked herself, and at last with a wild outburst of excitement she determined that her present life must end.
She had calmed down a little just before Garstang returned that evening, and the recollection of his chivalrous treatment and fatherly attention to her lightest wants made her shrink from declaring that in spite of everything she must have some change; for, as she had told herself in her fit of excitement that afternoon, if she did not she would go mad.
She was very quiet during dinner, and he carefully avoided interrupting the fits of thoughtfulness in which from time to time she was plunged, but an hour later, when he came after her to the library from his glass of wine, he saw that her brows were knit and that the expected moment had come.
“Tired, my dear?” he said, as he subsided into his easy chair.
“Very, Mr Garstang,” she said, quickly; and the excited look in her eyes intensified.
“Well, I don’t like parting from you, my child,” he said; “I have grown so used to your bright conversation of an evening, and it is so restful to me, but I must not be selfish. Go to bed when you feel so disposed. It is the weather, I think. The glass is very low.”
“No,” said Kate quickly, “it is not that; it is this miserable suspense which is preying upon me. Oh, guardian, guardian, when is all this dreadful life of concealment to come to an end?”
“Soon, my child, soon. But try and be calm; you have been so brave and good up to now; don’t let us run risks when we are so near success.”
“You have spoken to me like that so often, and – and I can bear it no longer. I must, at any risk now, have it put an end to.”
“Ah!” he sighed, with a sad look; “I am not surprised to hear you talk so. You have done wonders. I would rather have urged you to be patient a little longer, my dear, but I agree with you; it is more than a bright young girl can be expected to bear. I have noticed it, though you have made such efforts to conceal it; the long imprisonment is telling upon your health, and makes you fretful and impatient.”
“And I have tried so hard not to be,” she cried, full of repentance now.
“My poor little girl, yes, you have,” he said, reaching forward to take and pat her hand. “Well, give me a few hours to think what will be best to do, and then we will decide whether to declare war against James Wilton and cover ourselves with the shield of the law, or go right away for a change. You will give me a few hours, my dear, say till this time to-morrow?”
“Oh, yes,” she said, with a sigh of relief. “Pray forgive me; I cannot help all this.”
“I know, I know,” he said, smiling. “By the way, to-morrow is my birthday; you must try and celebrate it a little for me.”
She looked at him wonderingly.
“I mean, make Sarah Plant prepare an extra dinner, and I will bring home plenty of fruit and flowers; and after dinner we will discuss our plans and strike for freedom. Ah, my dear, it will be a great relief to me, for I have been growing very, very anxious about you. Too tired to give me a little music?”
“No, indeed, no,” she said eagerly. “Your words have given me more relief than I can tell.”
“That’s right,” he said, “but to be correct, I ought to ask you to read to me, to be in accord with the poem. But no, let it be one of my favourite songs, and in that way,
“‘The night shall be filled with music,
And the cares which infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.’”
“Longer than I expected,” said Garstang, as she left him that night for her own room. “Now let us see.”
In accordance with his wish, Kate tried to quell the excitement within her breast by entering eagerly into the preparations for the evening’s repast, but the next day passed terribly slowly, and she uttered a sigh of relief when the hands of the clock pointed to Garstang’s hour of returning.
He came in, smiling and content, laden with flowers and fruit, part of the former taking the shape of a beautiful bouquet of lilies, which he handed to her with a smile.
“There,” he cried; “aren’t they sweet? I believe, after all, that Covent Garden is the best garden in the world. I’m as pleased as a child over my birthday. Here, Mrs Plant, take this fruit, and let us have it for dessert.”
The housekeeper came at his call, and smiled as she took the basket he had brought in his cab, shaking her head sadly as she went down again.
“Hah!” ejaculated Garstang; “and I must have an extra glass of wine in honour of the occasion. It is all right, my dear,” he whispered, with a great show of mystery. “Plans made, cut and dried. We’ll have them over with the dessert.”
Kate gave him a grateful look, and took up and pressed her bouquet to her lips, while Garstang went to a table drawer and took out a key.
“You have never seen the wine cellar, my dear. Come down with me. It is capitally stored, but rather wasted upon me.”
He went into the hall and lit a chamber candle, returning directly.
“Ready?” he said, as she followed him down the dark stairs to the basement, Becky being seen for a moment flitting before them into the gloom, just as Garstang stopped at a great iron-studded door, and picked up a small basket from a table on the other side of the passage.
The door was unlocked, and opened with a groan, and Garstang handed his companion the candlestick.
“Don’t you come in,” he said; “the sawdust is damp, and young ladies don’t take much interest in bottles of wine. But they are interesting to middle-aged men, my dear,” he continued as he walked in, his voice sounding smothered and dull. Then came the chink of a bottle, which he placed in the wine basket, and he went on to a bin farther in.
“Don’t come,” he cried; “I can see. That’s right. Our party to-night is small,” and he came out with the two bottles he had fetched, stamped the sawdust off his feet, re-locked the door, and led the way upstairs, conveying the wine into the dining-room.
Ten minutes later they were seated at the table, and Garstang opened the bottle of champagne he had fetched himself.
“There, my dear,” he said; “you must drink my health on this my birthday,” and in spite of her declining, he insisted. “Oh, you must not refuse,” he said. “And, as people say, it will do you good, for you really are low and in need of a stimulus.”
The result was that she did sip a little of the sparkling wine, with the customary compliments, and the dinner passed off pleasantly enough. At last she rose to go.
“I will not keep you long, my dear,” he said. “Just my customary glass of claret, and by that time my thoughts will be in order, and I can give you my full news.”
Kate went into the library, growing moment by moment more excited, and trying hard to control her longing to hear Garstang’s plans, which were to end the terrible life of care. It seemed as if he would never come, and he did not until some time after the housekeeper had brought in the tea things and urn.
“At last,” she said, drawing a deep breath full of relief, for there was a step in the hall, the dining-room door was heard to close, and directly after Garstang entered, and she involuntarily rose from her seat, feeling startled by her new guardian’s manner, though she could not have explained the cause.
“I have been growing so impatient,” she said hastily, as he came to where she stood.
“Not more so than I,” he said; and she fancied for the moment that there was a strange light in his eyes.
But she drove away the thought as absurd.
“Now,” she cried; “I am weary with waiting. You have devised a way of ending this terrible suspense?”
“I have,” he said, taking her hands in his; and she resigned them without hesitation.
“Pray tell me then, at once. What will you do?”
“Make you my darling little wife,” he whispered passionately; and he clasped her tightly in his arms.
Chapter Thirty Seven
For a few moments Kate Wilton was passive in Garstang’s arms. The suddenness of the act – the surprise, stunned her, and his words seemed so impossible that she could not believe her hearing. Then horror and revulsion came; she knew it was the truth, and like a flash it dawned upon her that all that had gone before, the chivalrous behaviour, the benevolence and paternal tenderness, were the clever acting of an unscrupulous man – the outcome of plans and schemes, and for what? To obtain possession of the great fortune by which she felt more than ever that she was cursed.
With a faint cry of horror she thrust him back with both hands upon his breast, and struggled wildly to escape from his embrace.
But the effort was vain; he clasped her tightly once again, in spite of her efforts, and covered her face, her neck, her hair, with his kisses.
“Silly, timid little bird!” he whispered, as he held her there, horrified and panting; “what ails you? The first kisses, of course. There, don’t be so foolish, my darling child; they are the kisses of him who loves you, and who is going to make you his wife. Come, have I not been tender and patient, and all that you could wish, and is not this an easy solution of the difficulties by which you are surrounded?”
“Mr Garstang, loose me, I insist!” she cried. “How dare you treat me so!”
“I have told you, my beautiful darling. Come, come, be sensible; surely the love of one who has worshipped you from the first time he met you is not a thing to horrify you. Am I so old and repulsive, that you should go on like this? Only a few hours ago you were pressing my hands, holding your face to mine for my kisses; while now that I declare myself you begin struggling like a newly-captured bird. Why, Kate, my darling, I am talking to you like a poetic lover in a sentimental play. Really, dry lawyer as I am, I did not know that I could rise to such a flow of eloquence. Yes, pet, and you are acting too. There, that is enough for appearances, and there is no one to see, so let’s behave like two sensible matter-of-fact people. Come and sit down here.”
“I wish to go – at once,” she cried, striving hard to be firm, feeling as she did that everything, in her hopeless state, depended upon herself.
“We’ll talk about that quietly, when you have seated yourself. No – you will not?” he cried playfully. “Then you force me to show you that you must,” and raising her in his arms, he bore her quickly to the couch, and sat beside her, pinioning her firmly in his grasp.
“There,” he said, “man is the stronger in muscles, and woman must obey; but woman is stronger in the silken bonds with which she can hold man, and then he obeys.”
She sat there panting heavily, ceasing her struggles, as she tried to think out her course of action, for she shrank from shrieking aloud for help, and exposing her position to the two women in the house.
“That’s better,” he said; “now you are behaving sensibly. Don’t pretend to be afraid of me. Now listen – There, sit still; you cannot get away. If you cry out not a sound could reach the servants, for I have sent them to bed; and if a dozen men stood here and shouted together their voices could not be heard through curtains, shutters, and double windows. There, I am not telling you this to frighten you, only to show you your position.”
She turned and gazed at him wildly, and then dragged her eyes away in despair as he said, caressingly.
“How beautiful you are, Kate! That warm colour makes you more attractive than ever, and tells me that all this is but a timid girl’s natural holding back from the embraces of the man whom she has enslaved. There is no ghastly pallor, your lips are not white, and you do not turn faint, but are strong and brave in your resistance; so now let’s talk sense, little wifie. You fancy I have been drinking; well, I have had a glass or two more than usual, but I am not as you think, only calm and quiet and ready to talk to you about what you wished.”
“Another time – to-morrow. Mr Garstang, I beg of you; pray let me go to my own room now.”
“To try the front door on the way, and seek to do some foolish thing? There, you see I can read your thoughts, my darling. So far from having exceeded, I am too sensible for mat; but you could not get out of the house, for the door is locked, and I have the key here. There; to begin; you would like to leave here to-night?”
“Yes, yes, Mr Garstang; pray let me go.”
“Where? You would wander about the streets, a prey to the first ruffian who meets you. To appeal to the police, who would not believe your story; and even if they did, where would you go? To-morrow back to Northwood, to be robbed of your fortune; to go straight to that noble cousin’s arms. No, no, that would not do, dear. Now, let’s look the position in the face. I am double your age, my child. Well, granted; but surely I am not such a repellent monster that you need look at me like that I love you, my pretty one, and I am going to marry you at once. As my wife, you will be free from all persecution by your uncle. He will try to make difficulties, and refuse to sign papers, and do plenty of absurd things; but I have him completely under my thumb, and once you are my wife I can force him to give up all control of you and yours.”
“To-morrow – to-morrow,” she said, pleadingly, as she felt how hopeless it was to struggle. “I am sick and faint, Mr Garstang; pray, pray let me go to my room now.”
“Not yet,” he said playfully, and without relaxing his grasp; “there is a deal more to say. You have to make me plenty of promises, that you will act sensibly; and I want these promises, not from fear, but because you love me, dear. Silent? Well, I must tell you a little more. I made up my mind to this, my child, when I came to you that night. ‘I’ll marry her,’ I said; ‘it will solve all the difficulties and make her the happiest life.’”
“No, no, it is impossible, Mr Garstang,” she cried. “There, you have said enough now. You must – you shall let me go. Is this your conduct towards the helpless girl who trusted you?”
“Yes,” he said laughingly, “it is my conduct towards the helpless girl who trusted me; and it is the right treatment of one who cannot help herself.”
“No,” she cried desperately; “and so I trusted to you, believing you to be worthy of that trust.”
“And so I am, dear; more than worthy. Kate, dearest, do you know that I am going to make you a happy woman, that I give you the devotion of my life? Every hour shall be spent in devising some new pleasure for you, in making you one of the most envied of your sex. I am older, but what of that? Perhaps your young fancy has strayed toward some hero whom your imagination has pictured; but you are not a foolish girl. You have so much common sense that you must see that your position renders it compulsory that you should have a protector.”
“A protector!” she cried bitterly.
“Yes; I must be plain with you, unless you throw off all this foolish resistance. Come, be sensible. To-morrow, or the next day, we will be married, and then we can set the whole world at defiance.”
“Mr Garstang, you are mad!” she cried, with such a look of repugnance in her eyes that she stung him into sudden rage.
“Mad for loving you?” he cried.
“For loving me!” she said scornfully. “No, it is the miserable love of the wretched fortune. Well, take it; only loose me now; let me go. You are a lawyer, sir, and I suppose you know what to do. There are pens and paper. Loose me, and go and sit down and write; I promise you I will not try to leave the room; lock the door, if you like, till you have done writing.”
“It is already locked,” he said mockingly; and he smiled as he saw her turn pale.
“Very well,” she said calmly; “then I cannot escape. Go and write, and I will sign it without a murmur. I give everything to you; only let me go. It is impossible that we can ever meet again.”
“Indeed!” he said, laughing. “Foolish child, how little you know of these things! Suppose I do want your money; do you think that anything I could write, or you could sign, would give it me without this little hand? Besides, I don’t want it without its mistress – my mistress – the beautiful little girl who during her stay here has taught me that there is something worth living for. There, there, we are wasting breath. What is the use of fighting against the inevitable? Love me as your husband, Kate. I am the same man whom you loved as your guardian. There, I want to be gentle and tender with you. Why don’t you give up quietly and say that you will come with me like a sensible little girl, and be my wife?”
“Because I would sooner die,” she said, firmly.
“As young ladies say in old-fashioned romances,” he cried mockingly. “There, you force me to speak very plainly to you. I must; and you are wise enough to see that every word is true. Now listen. You have not many friends; I may say I, your lover, am the only one; but when you took that step with me one night, eloping from your bedroom window, placing yourself under my protection, and living here secluded with me in this old house for all these months, what would they say? Little enough, perhaps nothing; but there is a significant shrug of the shoulders which people give, and which means much, my child, respecting a woman’s character. You see now that you must marry me.”
“No,” she said calmly; “I trusted myself to the guardianship of a man almost old enough to be my grandfather. He professed to be my father’s friend, and I fled to him to save myself from insult. Will the world blame me for that, Mr Garstang?”
“Yes, the world will, and will not believe.”
“Then what is the opinion of the world, as you term it, worth? Now, sir, I insist upon your letting me go to my room.”
As she spoke, she struggled violently, and throwing herself back over the head of the couch made a snatch at the bell-pull, with such success that the smothered tones of a violent peal reached where they were.
Garstang started up angrily, and taking advantage of her momentary freedom, Kate sprang to the door and turned the key, but before she could open it he was at her side.
“You foolish child!” he said, in a low angry voice; “how can you act – ”
Half mad with fear, she struck at him, the back of her hand catching him sharply on the lips, and before he could recover from his surprise, she had passed through the door and fled to her room, where she locked and bolted herself in, and then sank panting and sobbing violently upon her knees beside her bed.
