Now that Cate knew about Mr Wynn, she found herself looking very differently at Laurie. She was sure that Sarah had got some of the story wrong. But if the story was in any way right, then perhaps it explained why Laurie was sometimes almost sympathetic to Cate. She knew what it was to be played for a fool by a cruel man.
Cate could not quite believe the story of David's revenge either. Some of it, yes. He would have protected his sister, and that would have entailed more than simply making sure Wynn went abroad. But he would not have risked killing him. He was not a murderer.
David returned home one damp afternoon a week later when Cate and Sarah were trying to play cribbage together in her sitting room. Trying, because Luke, sitting on Cate's lap, kept trying to take the cards from her and revealing her hand. This was distracting enough that when David opened the door, it was Sarah who noticed him first.
"David! Welcome home!" she said, putting her cards down. "We'll call it a draw, Catherine."
Cate wrested the seven of hearts from Luke and turned to see David in the doorway. Her heart skidded and skipped. She opened her mouth to say 'welcome home' and then, realizing Sarah had already said it, shut it again.
"Thank you, Sarah," David said after a few moments. "Can I come in, Cate?"
She realized now that he was waiting patiently in the doorway.
"Of course, please."
It was not the reunion Cate had dreamt of. In silence, David shrugged off his greatcoat and draped it over a chair, removed his hat and propped it on top. Cate tried to think of something to say, but all she could think of was that the last time she had seen David he had kissed her goodbye. It had seemed possible that the reunion following that would also include a kiss, but now here they were, reunited, and David was more preoccupied with fluffing his flattened hair in the mirror over the fireplace than greeting Cate. She was too disconcerted to speak.
"Was it a pleasant journey?" Sarah asked.
"Not bad." David finished rearranging his hair, turned, and held out his arms for Luke. "Let me have the boy, Cate. I missed him."
Cate handed him over, and David kissed him and bundled him onto one arm. Luke squealed with delight to be reunited. David bounced him up and down and looked vaguely at Sarah.
"I thought you would be back in London by now."
"I have been enjoying myself greatly here," Sarah said. "The delights of Town do not call to me yet."
Cate latched onto the thread of conversation the way a drowning man clings to a life buoy. "She's going bucolic. That's the word she keeps using."
"What does it mean?" David said. "To you, Sarah. I know it means to me. Cows."
"I am merely enjoying country pleasures," Sarah said primly. "I would like to stay on a little longer, unless that displeases you?"
"Why should it? It makes no difference to me."
Sarah looked disappointed. Perhaps she had been hoping for a more definite invitation.
"It's been very pleasant, actually, having you here while David was away," Cate said by way of consolation.
Still, Sarah could not smile. "Why don't we have tea?" she suggested flatly. "You must be tired, David."
David shook his head. "I don't have time for tea. I must go and see Baxter in a minute. I just wanted to talk to you about something first, Cate." His eyes flicked to Sarah. "Do you mind stepping out, Sarah? It is a private matter."
"You know I can be trusted not to repeat anything I hear."
"What I have to tell my wife is for her ears only."
A thrill of hope travelled down Cate's spine, followed by a quenching wave of despair. Even if his words might be intimate, David's tone was coolly polite. It was the kiss, she thought. He wanted to talk about the kiss. Tell her not to do it again, that she had overstepped the bounds.
"Well." Sarah's lips were thin. "I certainly would not want to hear that, my cousin."
She left the room, walking rather stiffly. David stared after her, frowning slightly, then he shrugged and turned back to Cate. He looked troubled; he stood there silently for a long moment, holding Luke and frowning, as though he did not know what to say.
"I'm sorry," Cate blurted when the silence became tortuous.
"Sorry? About what?"
"Kissing you."
He stared at her.
"I didn't mean to offend you," she said. "I just... I thought you wanted... but I don't understand you, clearly."
He raised his eyebrows. "I am not offended. It is not my pride that hurts, Cate. It is my heart, and your kiss was salt in the wound."
Cate's own heart ached. "I am sorry."
"I know. But I did not come to this room to speak to you of kisses, Cate."
"What is it then?"
David let Luke slowly down to the floor. Luke crawled to a low table and dragged himself to his feet to peer inquisitively at the bowl of dried flowers on top of it. David watched him, the frown still on his face.
"I met a man in Oxfordshire," he said at last, his voice very low and soft. "Herbert Oliver."
Every last drop of blood in Cate's veins turned to ice.
"He's Luke's father, isn't he?"
"Yes," she whispered. "No!" She clutched dizzily at the card table. "Luke does not have a father. But Herbert Oliver—" she choked on the name "—is the man I gave my body to."
"You're splitting hairs, Cate."
"No, I'm not." She slipped down to her knees on the floor and shuffled across to Luke to pull him into her lap. "When I told Oliver I was with child, he made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with the baby. He refused to admit it was his. He said for all he knew it was yours or any other man's, but it was not his." Luke wriggled as she held him too tight. "So Luke has no father."
She kissed him, again and again, trying to erase the memory of Oliver from her mind. His voice echoed in her head: lying strumpet, cloven bitch, scheming doxy. Yet somehow those words had not hurt as much as the simple phrase: it is not my child.
"How did you find out?" she asked when she felt capable of speaking. "Did he tell you?"
"No. He denied it when I accused him. But he asked after Luke and I knew from the expression on his face."
Cate shuddered. "David. I am so sorry."
"I know." David leaned against the card table. "He also gave a sort of apology, Cate. Not much of one. He did not want you to hate him. He wanted you to think of how he felt. He mentioned the word regret. I don't think he really knows what it means. But I told him I would tell you what he said, and now I have."
"You might have spared my feelings."
"And you might have spared mine." There was an edge to David's voice now. "You chose to fornicate with that man. You chose to."
It would have hurt less if David had slapped her in the face. Cate choked on her own breath. "How many times can I apologize?"
"I don't want apologies. I know you're sorry and that does not make it hurt less. What I want is for you to listen to what happened that night. I want you to understand. I want you not to run away."
"Then tell me." Cate swallowed a lump in her throat. "He apologized? What else?"
"It was not quite an apology," David corrected. "The word sorry never left his mouth, and he spoke about himself as though he were an unknown stranger. But he did admit that you were an owed an apology."
"Which he did not give." Cate laughed bitterly. "At one time, I thought his twisted tongue charming. I'm a fool."
"He seemed to consider himself rather charming to women. I never had the art myself."
"Don't compare yourself to him, please. He has a knack for insincere flattery, which better men would be ashamed of. And better women would not fall for."
Luke was struggling for freedom, and Cate let him go. He crawled away to investigate the nook under David's coat hanging over the chair. Cate took a deep breath to steady her feelings and got back to her feet.
"What else happened?" she asked. "Tell me from the beginning."
"We were at a dinner party. He accosted me when I went out for solitude, and asked after Luke's health. The manner of his asking was suspicious. I followed him indoors and inveigled him into a game of backgammon, so that we could talk without being overheard. Then I accused him of being Luke's father, which he denied. I warned him to stay away from you both. I threatened violence. He gave his excuse of an apology, and avoided me the rest of the night."
"You threatened violence?" She looked at him, taking in the breadth of his shoulders and strength of his hands. Oliver was half his size. "Don't hurt him."
"Why on earth not? Men like Oliver don't deserve to be protected from hurt."
"I don't want you hurt. I don't want you hanged for murder."
David stared at her then broke out laughing. "You are joking, Cate. I would not kill him. I'd rough him up a little, that's all."
"The way you roughed up Wynn?"
David's smile faded. "You've heard about that then."
"Sarah told me."
"It is not her story to tell."
"Then it's true?"
"What did she tell you?" David's eyes narrowed. "I doubt she even knows the full story herself. Laurie would not have told her, and I certainly haven't."
"She said that Wynn that hurt Laurie. Then Wynn disappeared. Fishermen found him naked in a boat, sunburned and mad with thirst, just out of sight of shore."
"That's true enough. And public knowledge."
"You might have killed him. He might have died."
"Unlikely," David said dryly. "I anchored the rowboat and told the fishermen where to find him."
"Then you did it, as she said."
"Do you think less of me for it? He hurt Laurie. She's my little sister. I don't regret what I did. If he ever comes back into her life, I'll do it again."
Cate shuddered. "I didn't think you were a violent man."
"There was no violence in what I did to Wynn. I got the man dead drunk and towed him out to sea to teach him a lesson. It was cruel, yes. Not violent. Violence is animal impulse unchecked by human reason. Violence is what Wynn was."
"Now you're the one splitting hairs. What you did to Wynn... he deserved. I cannot say otherwise. But if you hurt Oliver, he'll have the law on you. And Oliver never did violence to me. He abandoned me and Luke. He called me names I do not wish to repeat. But he never raised his hand against me. He is no danger to me, or Luke. He's simply... a humiliating memory."
"And what will you do if one day he decides he wants something to do with his son?"
She shook her head. "Thank you for trying to protect us, David, but I cannot see that happening. You said yourself that he would not admit he was Luke's father. Luke has no father, and never will."
Luke came crawling out from beneath the chair. He sat on his bottom and waved at David, who waved back, making Luke giggle with pride.
"He has me," David said softly. "I may not be his father, but I'm here and I love him. I think that must count for something, Cate."
Tears pricked Cate's eyes. "You really love him?"
"I do. How could I not?"
"I can't kiss you, can I?"
He shook his head.
So instead, she reached out for his hands and pressed them to her heart. "Thank you. It counts for everything."
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2023-05-08: You may be able to tell that I'm scrambling to start to tie all the different plot threads together ;p