The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [337]
‘Old Miss Albion, in particular,’ Mr Totton explained, ‘feels passionately about the subject. Her mother brought her up, so to speak, in Alice Lisle’s shadow. Alice was born Alice Albion, you see, and Albion House was her true home.’
Martell nodded slowly. The vision he had had of Fanny the first time he had come to that dark old house came back to him with vividness. His impression had not been wrong, then. She was, indeed, a tragic figure, trapped with those two old people in a house full of memories and ghostly shadows. But this information also meant something else: he had been correct, almost certainly, in thinking she cared for him. It was the discovery that he was a Penruddock that had caused her to avoid him and push him away.
It is the shadow of Alice Lisle that stands between us, he thought. Curse her. The thing was ungodly. And now, thinking of her terrible situation, a wave of pity swept over him. How must she feel, facing such an ordeal, almost alone? ‘I am deeply sorry to hear of her predicament,’ he said quietly and the dinner continued with no further mention of such a painful subject.
When the ladies retired, leaving the men to their port, he did venture to bring up the subject with Burrard and Totton.
‘It’s a strange business,’ Burrard informed him. ‘Gilpin and I, without interfering, have tried to get information. The shop in question, having accused her, is unwilling to back down. The magistrate insisted she be held. But worst of all is the state of mind of Fanny herself.’ And he explained, briefly, how Gilpin had persuaded the Grockletons to take Fanny to Bath. ‘She had fallen, during the winter, into a very melancholic state. Alas, it seems the visit to Bath, as yet, has effected no cure. She is utterly lethargic and says nothing to help her cause. And, even for people of our sort, Martell, theft is theft. I will not conceal from you that, privately, I fear for her. The case is grave.’
Theft: the penalties for theft in eighteenth-century England were harsh indeed. Sentences of death or transportation were frequent. The value of the goods stolen seldom interested the courts much: it was the moral character of the criminal and the attack upon property that concerned them. Theft, of the kind of which Fanny was accused, was theft pure and simple, and even gentlefolk could be severely punished for such an offence. After all, it provided an example to society at large that the law was absolute.
‘Do we know why she should have fallen into melancholy when she did?’ Martell ventured to ask.
‘No.’ It was Edward Totton who answered now. ‘I think it was after Mrs Grockleton’s ball that she seemed to become withdrawn. I suppose her father’s making a spectacle of himself may have caused her, however unjustifiably, embarrassment. Louisa and I are at fault, I believe. We didn’t realize; we should have done much more for her at that time. But we didn’t and I feel rather ashamed.’
Just after the ball. Her melancholy, thought Martell, might also have another cause. Yet what the devil, he wondered, as they went to join the ladies, could he do about it? It was hardly to be imagined that the family would have failed to obtain good legal counsel. His involvement could not possibly be welcome.
Only one phrase from all this conversation kept recurring, nagging at his mind: ‘She is utterly lethargic and says nothing to help her cause.’ She must be persuaded to help her cause. The case was far too serious to be left to chance. She must help herself in every way she could.
The gentlemen and ladies were making up two tables of cards, but Martell was not in the mood for play just then and nor, it seemed, was Louisa; so they moved away to a sofa and began to talk.
There was no doubt, Martell considered, that Louisa was a very pretty and amusing young woman. He liked her; enjoyed her company. He had even, once or twice, thought of more. A Totton might not have been quite his style, but within a broad range he could marry whom he pleased. Perhaps the shock of the news about Fanny had added a tenderness to his