Ashworth Hall - Anne Perry [40]
Kezia let out a bark of disgust. “Oh, for heaven’s sake be quiet. You have no idea what you are saying!” She moved around and raised her knees, almost protectively. “You are talking pompous rubbish. I could forgive him easily enough if he were merely weak. God knows, we all are.”
Her face, with all its soft, generous lines, was twisted hard with pain and the memory of pain. “But when I fell in love with a Catholic man, loved him with all my heart and soul, just after Papa died, Fergal wouldn’t even listen to me. He forbade me from seeing him. He wouldn’t even let me tell him myself.” Her voice was so harsh with remembered pain the words were indistinct. “He told him! He told Cathal I would never be permitted to marry him. It would be blasphemy against my faith. He told me that, too!
“I was too young to marry without permission. He was my legal guardian, and I couldn’t have run away without forfeiting the Church’s blessing. I listened to Fergal and obeyed him. I let Cathal go.” Her eyes filled with tears that spilled down her cheeks, not in fury this time, but remembered sweetness and the reminding of its loss. “He’s dead now. I can’t ever find him again.”
Charlotte said nothing.
Kezia looked at her. “So you see, I can’t forgive Fergal for going and lying with a Catholic woman, and somebody else’s wife to add to it. When I put flowers on Cathal’s grave, how can I explain that to him?”
“I’m not sure I could forgive that either,” Charlotte confessed, not moving from where she sat. “I’m sorry I was so quick to presume.”
Kezia shrugged, and searched for a handkerchief.
Charlotte handed her one from the bedside cabinet.
Kezia blew her nose fiercely.
“But what I said is still true,” Charlotte added apologetically. “He is your only brother, isn’t he? Do you really want to cut the bonds that hold you to each other? Won’t that hurt you as much as it does him? He’s done a terrible thing. He’ll suffer for it, sooner or later, won’t he?”
“Divine justice?” Kezia raised her eyebrows. “I’m not sure that I believe in it.” She tightened her lips, more in self-knowledge than bitterness. “Anyway, I don’t think that I’m prepared to wait for that.”
“No, quite ordinary human guilt,” Charlotte corrected. “And that doesn’t usually take that long to come, even if it is not recognized as such immediately.’’
Kezia thought in silence.
“Do you really want to create a gulf between you that you cannot cross?” Charlotte asked. “Not for him, for yourself?”
Again it was a long time before Kezia replied.
“No …” She said at last, reluctantly. She smiled very slightly. “I suppose you are not quite as pompous as I thought. I apologize for that.”
Charlotte smiled back. “Good. Pomposity is such a bore, and so masculine, don’t you think?”
This time Kezia did actually laugh.
The rest of the evening was strained. Kezia did not return, which was probably as well, but even so, Lorcan’s presence was sufficient to keep the disaster in everyone’s minds. The subject of the Parnell-O’Shea divorce was studiously ignored, which meant a great deal of political speculation had also to be avoided. The conversation degenerated into platitudes, and everyone was glad to retire early.
Charlotte sat on the dressing stool in the sanctuary of her bedroom.
“This is ghastly,” she said, running a silk scarf over her hair to keep it smooth and make it shine. “With this atmosphere one hardly needs to worry about Fenian dynamiters or assassins from outside.”
Pitt was already sitting in bed.
“What did Kezia Moynihan say? Is she going to make scenes all weekend?”
“She has a certain amount of justice on her side.” She repeated what Kezia had told her.
“Perhaps