A Fallen Woman. Nancy Carson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ a horrid situation. Despite the fact that she’s married now to the man I love more than anything, I have come to love her too, not just as a sister but as a dear, dear friend. I don’t want to lose her now that I’ve found her, especially since I can’t have you.’

      ‘You just said despite the fact that she’s married now to the man you love…’ He looked her squarely in the eye and even before she answered he saw the truth manifested in their troubled, misted blueness.

      ‘Yes, I still love you, Algie…’ She took a deep breath and sighed again vocally, as if trying to exhale her inner strife. ‘With all my heart. Oh, I know we can never be together in the way we wanted to be, and I’ve learned to accept that, but it doesn’t alter how I feel.’

      Still holding Christina, he stood up and turned away. ‘I think maybe you shouldn’t have told me. I imagined you were over all that.’

      She stood up with him, agitated. ‘I’m sorry. It’s complicated enough. You’re right, perhaps I shouldn’t have said it. It’s just that I’m feeling rather sorry for myself…’

      ‘I have Marigold to think about now…and Rose. And my mother, of course.’

      ‘Of course. I do understand.’

      ‘That’s not to say I don’t think about you, Aurelia. Barely an hour goes by—’

      ‘Please don’t say more, Algie…’ She sniffed, and laid her hand on his arm reassuringly. ‘It’s Marigold you have to consider now. And Rose.’

      ‘So what do I tell Marigold? I’m at a complete loss.’

      ‘The truth, Algie, I suppose. You’ll just have to tell her the truth. We neither of us have an option. It’ll all come into the open anyway if Benjamin does begin divorce proceedings. She’ll be mortified, naturally. I just hope that in time she’ll come to understand and accept things.’

      ‘I don’t know if I have the heart to tell her, Aurelia.’ He gave the child another hug, and offered her back to Aurelia, who gently took her. ‘I’d better go,’ he said. ‘I still have work to do.’

      ‘Of course. And thank you so much for…for being so understanding.’

      * * *

      Algie returned to his factory, his head swimming with confused thoughts. One minute he decided he must tell Marigold all, the next that he must at all costs try and conceal from her all knowledge of his affair with Aurelia. When he arrived back at the factory he could concentrate on nothing. All he could think of was that he had enjoyed an affair with Aurelia Sampson, that she had had his child, that she still loved him, and that now all his troubles were coming home to roost.

      The prospect was made worse by Marigold’s innate sensitivity. He knew his young wife well enough to acknowledge just how easily she was hurt. In the early days of their courtship she had shown how jealous she could be, labouring under the misapprehension then that he was still keen on Harriet Meese. Marriage had not decreased her sensitivity to any noticeable extent, especially at certain times of the month. She would want to know everything; how and when the affair with Aurelia had started, where they met for their trysts, how many times they coupled and where. Not least, she would demand to know whether he still loved Aurelia, whether he loved Aurelia more than her…And she would torture herself with the information and make herself miserably unhappy. Marigold did not deserve that kind of torture.

      Whether or not he had the courage or the moral fibre to confess all was irrelevant. Aurelia was right; it had to be done, and he was the one who had to do it. How he did it was up to him. He could not expect Aurelia to do it for him. Once divorce proceedings were in full flow, the local newspapers would be full of the scandal. His own name would be dragged in the mud. The whole world, his poor mother included, who had suffered cataclysmic tribulations of her own already, would be made tragically aware of the dire consequences of his dallying with Aurelia.

      Better that Marigold was prepared for all that.

      The sooner it was out in the open, the sooner they could return to some semblance of accord.

      * * *

       Chapter 9

      Benjamin Sampson stepped down from his gig and tethered his horse to a lamp post close to the tiny terraced house he had provided for Maude Atkins on The Inhedge, an impoverished street in Dudley. As his footsteps echoed through the narrow entry that led to the backyard and the door to the house, he was still fuming about the behaviour of that despicable upstart Algie Stokes. His cheek throbbed; it was swollen and threatened to manifest itself as a black eye very soon. Stokes would pay for it and pay heavily. Benjamin Sampson (in his overestimated opinion of himself) was a man of no meagre standing. He was a captain of local industry, a personage respected and admired. He was not the type to tolerate reprehensible attacks on his person by some contemptible ne’er-do-well, without extracting due revenge.

      Maude was busy in the brewhouse. It was her wash day, and she was folding napkins she had just collected off the line that was stretched like a telegraph wire between the brewhouse and the house. Hearing footsteps in the entry, she peered round the door to catch a glimpse of whoever might emerge from its dimness. Her first instinct was to smile when she saw Benjamin, but her expression changed to apprehension when she discerned his swollen cheek.

      ‘What on earth have you done to your face?’ she asked at once, with evident concern.

      ‘Nothing,’ he answered grumpily.

      ‘Well, somebody has. You’ve got a black eye coming. What’s happened?’

      ‘Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you.’

      ‘D’you fancy a cup of tea? I’m parched.’

      ‘Can a duck swim?’ he replied.

      He followed her indoors. Before he sat down in front of the fire he took a peek at himself in the mirror to ascertain the damage to his face. His baby daughter by Maude was asleep in her crib, a picture of innocence that would have moved many a man, but failed to move Benjamin when he peered at her. Maude grabbed the kettle and, in a flutter of apron ribbons and frills, floated back to the yard to fill it. When she returned seconds later she hung it over the coal fire that was burning brightly in the blackleaded grate.

      ‘So tell me what you’ve been up to.’

      He sighed theatrically, raising his eyebrows. ‘You were right all along about Aurelia, though it grieves me to admit it. She’s had an affair, like you said. That second child definitely ain’t mine.’

      Maude shrugged with a fatalistic expression. ‘I told you so. Clarence Froggatt’s, I suppose?’

      He shook his head and uttered a little laugh of irony. ‘No, Algie Stokes’s,’ he seethed, as if the very name was bile to be spat out. ‘The damned ne’er-do-well.’

      ‘Algie Stokes, eh? You said you had an inkling.’

      He nodded.

      ‘I must say, I’m surprised she went for him. So how did you find out for sure?’

      She took her teapot and tea caddy СКАЧАТЬ