Joan Wolf (8 page)

There was a stunned silence and the two women exchanged a glance. They had not known Mark was aware of their motives. His look of irony deepened and he said dryly, “I’m not blind.”

“Well, that is nice to know,” his aunt retorted vigorously, recovering her equilibrium. “And let me tell you, young man, you had better learn to appreciate the virtues of men like Lord Countisbury.”

 She went on to discourse largely on the local Dartmouth gentry, and he listened and watched her with amused tolerance. And Laura watched him.

It had been quite deliberate, then, that apparently effortless charming of his women guests this evening. She had thought it unconscious. For the first time she realized that he was quite capable of exploiting his physical magnetism and clever enough to do it so that no one saw through him. It was, she thought, a disquieting discovery to make about one’s husband.

Chapter Ten

The winter months of January and February went by, and Mark was deeply involved in work on his charts. Often he would spend eight to ten hours at a time in the library. His correspondence with prominent antiquarians, travelers, and scholars increased in volume, and Laura several times found herself entertaining a single male guest who would closet himself with Mark for hours in the library, appearing only for dinner.

She was very proud of her husband. The reality of this intense, brilliant, guarded young man had swept out of her mind all the other men she had ever known. She felt so alive when she was with him. She loved their after-dinner talks in the drawing room. He was so interesting, so interested in everything. Talking to him was like setting out on a new and exciting road that kept opening up new paths here and there as they progressed along. Her mind felt stretched, as it had never done before.

At the end of February he was elected to the Royal Society, Britain’s most prestigious scientific club, and went up to London for a few weeks to meet his fellow members. He asked Laura if she wanted to come with him, but she felt she would only be a nuisance.

 She was always afraid to presume too much with him; she was acutely conscious that their marriage had not been made for love. The fact that she had fallen in love with him did not mean he had done the same with her. He desired her, she certainly knew that, but she was adult enough to realize that a man could desire where he did not love.

And so when he said diffidently, “Should you care to come with me?” she refused.

“I would only be in your way, Mark. You are dying to submerge yourself in talk about new instruments and how to measure wind and how to predict storms, and all the other ideas your mind is teeming with. You don’t want to have to worry about me.”

“And
you
will be happier here with Robin.”

“I didn’t say that.”   .

“No, you are far too tactful and discreet to say that.” He smiled a little crookedly. “But you meant it, all the same.”

They were together in the schoolroom, where Mark had come to find her with the news of his election. And they were alone; Robin had gone down to Laura’s room to fetch a book she had forgotten. He put his hands now on her shoulders. “My tactful, thoughtful, considerate wife,” he murmured. “Are you certain you won’t change your mind and come? I’m certain I can think of something that would entertain you while we’re there.”

Laura’s heart began to accelerate and her lids came down on her eyes under the look in his. “Laura?” he said very softly, and she looked up. His eyes were as golden brown as fine sherry and had the same dizzying effect on her. She loved him so much it hurt.

“Papa!” said Robin’s voice from behind them. “Have you come to see my castle? I built it myself.”

Mark let Laura go and turned to his bright-eyed son. “I came to see Laurie, but now that I’m here, I should love to see your castle.”

Laura watched approvingly as the two of them got down on the floor to allow Robin to demonstrate his new treasure. She remarked, as she had several times before, that Mark never lied to Robin, even about little things like coming to see him instead of her. He seemed always to see Robin as an individual person in his own right, not just an appendage or offshoot of himself.

 He respected Robin. It was not the usual way of parents toward their children, and Laura admired his attitude very much. Robin had grown up a great deal since Mark had come home.

He stayed for about fifteen minutes and then said, “Well, Farnsworth has been after me to go and look at a new drainage ditch, and today is a good day for it, I suppose. The sun is finally out.”

“May I come too, Papa?” asked Robin eagerly.

Mark looked at Laura. “Only if it won’t be interrupting your lessons.”

“No.” Laura shook her head. “Take him along if you like.”

“Very well,” Mark said to his son. “Change into riding clothes and meet me in the hall in fifteen minutes.”

“All right!” said Robin, and dashed for the door leading to his bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later Laura watched as father and son walked down the front steps of Castle Dartmouth toward the horse and pony awaiting them on the drive. Robin was holding his head exactly as Mark held his, and Laura smiled to see them. Of late Robin had become a very faithful imitator of “my papa.” Laura thought he could choose no better model.

* * * *

She did not go to London with Mark, even though she would have liked to do so. She thought she would be in his way, and when she told him once again of her reason, he did not press her. His easy acquiescence in her refusal only confirmed her belief in her own superfluity.

He was gone for two weeks, during which time Laura’s outward existence seemed remarkably unchanged. They had not engaged a governess for Robin. “In another year he will be ready for a tutor,” Laura had said to Mark. “I can certainly teach him until then. I enjoy it. And when I am occupied, he is very well-supervised by Betty or Rose. There is no need for a governess at this point.”

Mark had agreed, and so life for Laura continued in almost the same pattern as it had before her marriage. She spent the mornings in the schoolroom with Robin, teaching him to read and to do simple mathematics, and in the afternoon she rode or went into Dartmouth on errands or visited with her neighbors. She was active in several local charities, particularly the area orphanage, which she visited regularly every week.

 It was a simple, tranquil country life, full of small pleasures, like choosing the flowers she wanted from the garden or discussing with the rector how best to assist the local families who were suffering from the postwar economy. It was a life that suited Laura very well. She liked serenity. She liked to spend whole afternoons fishing or gardening. She was perfectly content to get her excitement out of jumping her horse over the ha-ha.

Marriage to Mark had not changed her life in any outward way. She still had Robin, her friends, her occupations. It was, then, a little disconcerting to find herself missing him so much during the weeks of his absence. Outwardly her days might not have changed, but inwardly she had changed very much.

 Her husband had become the focal point of her emotional life. She might not see him often during the day, but she was aware of him nonetheless, aware of his presence behind the library door, aware that he was out somewhere on the estate and might return at any minute, aware that at any time the schoolroom or morning-parlor door might open and he would be there.

 She missed that faint feeling of expectancy that hung over her all day when he was home. She missed seeing him sitting across from her at dinner, missed their after-dinner discussion in the drawing room. She missed him at night as she lay in her big lonely bed. She longed quite desperately for him to come home.

* * * *

Her hidden life, however, remained hidden, and those who surrounded her never suspected that she was not perfectly content be her husband present or absent. A few days before Mark was due to return, Giles Gregory rode over to see Robin and to talk to Laura. They had not seen him in almost a month, as he had been making a round of visits to the country homes of several of his friends. As one of the most desirable bachelors in London, Giles always had plenty of invitations.

He had several new puzzles for Robin, one of which was a map of Britain, and the two of them sat doing it for almost an hour. Then Giles came downstairs to have tea with Laura.

It was a blowy March day and they sat in front of the fire in the yellow saloon, which was the room Laura used most often. It was bright and sunny with its yellow walls and draperies and upholstery, and it always cheered her up on a dark, depressing day.

 “How are the Marchbanks?” she asked Giles demurely. Laura had met this aristocratic couple and their daughter when they had come to stay with Lord and Lady Monksleigh.

“On the hunt,” he replied ruefully, looking over the plate of cakes on the table beside him.

Unobserved, Laura looked hard at his face. He was an extraordinarily good-looking man, with hair like Robin’s and eyes that were even bluer. He was in his early thirties, she estimated. Time he was getting married. “Why don’t you allow yourself to get caught?” she asked bluntly. “Lady Anne seemed a very nice girl.”

He selected a cake with great care and balanced it neatly between long fingers. “She doesn’t appeal to me,” he said at last. His voice was very calm. “I lost the only girl I ever cared about... but, then, you know all about that.”

There was a pause, and then Laura said firmly, “If she is lost, then you must look around for someone to take her place.”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes, I do, Giles.”

There was quiet as he ate his cake and she sipped her tea, and then, changing the subject, he said, “Robin tells me Mark is in London.”

“Yes. He was elected to the Royal Society.” She couldn’t quite keep the pride out of her voice, and he regarded her thoughtfully.

“That’s quite an honor,” he murmured. “Who proposed him?”

Laura had received a letter from Mark only that morning, and she was dying to tell someone. “Sir John Barrow, from the Admiralty, was going to propose him, but when Mark’s name came up, the President, Sir Joseph Banks, said that Sir John’s sponsorship was unnecessary. He told Sir John that Mark had no need for favor of any kind but would come among them on his own sole account, without owing thanks to anyone.” Her face was now aglow with pride. “He was elected unanimously, so highly regarded is he by his peers.”

“So it seems,” said Giles, his eyebrows raised a little. Then he smiled. “I’m glad, Laura. Glad that things are going well for you and for Mark.”

She met his smiling blue eyes and felt a rush of gratitude toward him. He was behaving very well. Really, she didn’t quite know how she had resisted him for all those years. Perhaps, she thought with a sudden flash of intuition, it was because he reminded her of Edward.”        “Thank you, Giles. And remember what I said, will you? It’s time you had a son of your own, not just a nephew.”

“I’ll think about it,” was all he would say in return.

* * * *

Four days later Mark came home. Laura was out, as he had not sent her word of his exact arrival date. It was a warm sunny day, the sort of day that truly promised spring, and she had decided to ride her horse to see the rector rather than take the carriage. She came home by her favorite route, cutting off the main road to turn in toward the huge Castle Dartmouth park. Mark’s father had long ago pulled down the wall that enclosed this part of his property and had had a ha-ha dug. The invisible sunken ditch was considered more natural looking than a wall. When she came this way, Laura, who was an excellent horsewoman, had two stiles to jump as well as the ha-ha, which was banked here, making the jump more difficult.

She was flushed with exercise when she reached the house. A footman came down the front stairs to take her horse in charge, and the butler met her at the door with the news that “My lord arrived an hour ago, my lady.”

Laura’s expression did not change, but indefinably, she began to glow. “Oh, good. Where is he, Monk?”

“I believe he is in the schoolroom with Master Robin, my lady.”

She nodded her thanks to the servant and proceeded up the great open staircase with disciplined and sedate steps—disciplined because she felt an overwhelming desire to run. When she pushed open the schoolroom door she saw the two heads bent close together over a book on the table. At the sound of her entrance the blond and the brown head turned with an identical gesture. “Papa’s back, Laurie!” Robin said. “He brought me a book of maps—an atas. Come and see.”

“Atlas, darling,” she responded, and moved forward. “How nice to have you home. Mark,” she said composedly, and offered him her cheek to kiss.

He touched it with his lips. “How are you, Laura? Been out enjoying the spring weather, I see.”

“Yes. I was over to visit the rector.”

“Look at my book, Laurie,” Robin demanded, and obediently she bent her head to do so. They remained in the schoolroom for another twenty minutes, talking to each other and to the child, their manner pleasant and civilized. Then Robin asked Mark if he would play bat and ball with him in the garden, and Mark agreed. Robin came back into the house an hour later, but Laura did not see Mark again until dinner.

Over dinner he told her about his trip to London and about some of the men he had met. Then he asked what she had been doing in his absence.

“Oh, the same things I have been doing for years,” she responded with a deprecatory smile. “Just at present I am organizing the Easter party for the children at the orphanage. Do you mind if we use the grounds here?”

“Of course I don’t mind. What are you planning?”

“Games and contests, that sort of thing. And quantities of food, of course. We’ve done it every year, but at the orphanage, not here. I think it would be nice for the children to have a change of scene for the day.”

“Yes.” He looked at her steadily across the table. She had dressed with special care that evening, choosing a gown that left more of her neck and shoulders bare than usual. They shimmered in the candlelight, luminous and white against the deep blue of her gown. Her eyes looked very dark from where he sat.