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little I could do about the situation except make the best of it."
"I understand. Marriage is so very permanent," Augusta murmured.
"I believe Catherine and I could have made a go of it if Catherine had not lied to me
right from the start. Dishonesty is something I cannot forgive or condone."
"No, I can see where it would be very difficult for you to make allowances for a
woman or anyone else who lied. You are very severe about some things, my lord."
He eyed her sharply. "Catherine, as it happens, had no intention of ever trying to be a
true wife. The best I can say for her was that at least she was not carrying her lover's babe
when she came to me. She did, however, become pregnant on our wedding night and was
extremely angry about the fact. Apparently her lover lost interest in her as she grew big
with my child. To keep him bound to her she began giving him money."
"Harry. How awful. Did you not notice that she was doing so?"
"Not for quite some time. Catherine could be extraordinarily convincing. Whenever
she came to me for more money, she would tell me she needed the funds to further her
charity work. Which was not precisely a lie, I suppose, when you think about it. Her lover
was entirely without means and quite dependent on her largesse."
"Oh, dear."
"I have let the rumor stand that she died of the fever after giving birth to Meredith,"
Harry said without inflection. "The truth is, she was recovering quite nicely when she
learned her lover was seeing someone else. She rose from childbed too soon and slipped
away to confront him. When she came home she was distraught. She had also caught a
chill that settled in her lungs. She went back to bed and never recovered. Toward the end
she was out of her mind and she began calling for her paramour."
"That was how you discovered who he was?"
"Yes."
"What happened to him?" Augusta demanded, a sense of foreboding closing in on her.
"Cut off from his only means of reliable financial support, he was obliged to join the
army. Quite soon thereafter he managed to die a hero's death on the peninsula."
"How dreadfully ironic. No one knows about all this?"
"I have kept my own counsel until now. You are the only other person I have ever told
and I fully expect you to keep equally silent on the subject."
"Yes, of course," Augusta said weakly, thinking of how badly Harry's honor must have
been savaged. "After such a disastrous experience, 'tis no wonder you are so concerned
with the proprieties, my lord."
"It is not only my own pride that concerns me," Harry said bluntly. "I wish to maintain
the fiction of Catherine's perfection for Meredith's sake. A child needs to be able to
respect the memory of her parents. Meredith is nine years old and as far as she is
concerned, Catherine was a loving mother and a virtuous wife."
"I comprehend completely. You need not worry that I will alter her impression of her
mother."
Harry smiled faintly. "No, you would not do any such thing. You are very kind and
very loyal to those for whom you feel affection, are you not? 'Tis one of the reasons I
married you. I am hoping you will come to care for my daughter."
"I am certain I shall." Augusta looked down at her gloved fingers, which were laced
on her lap. "I just hope she will learn to love me."
"She is an obedient child. She will do as she is told. She knows you are to be her new
mother and she will show you every respect."
"Respect is not the same as love, my lord. One can force a certain amount of respect
and good manners from a child, but one cannot force love from anyone, can one?" She
slanted him a meaningful glance. "Not even from a wife or a husband."
"I will settle for respect and good manners from both my child and my wife," Harry
said. "In addition, I shall expect loyalty from my wife. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, of course." Augusta went back to plucking at the braid trim on her gown. "But I
have tried to tell you from the beginning, my lord, that I cannot promise to be a model of
perfection."
He smiled gravely. "No one is perfect."
"I am very glad you realize that."
"I will, however, expect you to make a few earnest efforts in that general direction,"
Harry added, his voice quite dry.
Augusta looked up quickly. "Are you teasing me, sir?"
"Good Lord, no, Augusta. I am a dull, prosing scholar entirely lacking in the sort of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]