With David and Sarah gone, Cate spent the rest of the afternoon alone with Luke, which was not an unhappy way to spend an afternoon. At about four o'clock they had tea and biscuits, which ended up with Luke becoming very jammy, so Cate decided to give him a bath. Luke disagreed and had a tantrum. It was the first time he had ever had a tantrum, and his force of lung and vigour of wail had Cate paralyzed with confusion and made three servants come running to see what was wrong. When Luke was caged in his cot to settle and the splashes cleaned up, another servant came to tell Cate that there was a visitor to see her and gave her a card.
It was a somewhat grimy card, damp and a little wrinkled. Cate winced as she turned it over to read the name, then froze.
Herbert Oliver Esquire
Her fingers trembled and the card slipped from her grasp. Her first instinct was to tell the servant to tell Oliver to come back when David was here, but she had the immediate misgiving that it was cowardly to run to David to solve her problems. Besides, David had as much as promised he would be violent towards Oliver if he saw him again, and even though Cate had nothing but poison in her heart towards Oliver, she could not bear the thought of David bearing the consequences of hurting him.
"Tell him... Tell him to wait in the drawing room downstairs." She could not see him in her own rooms. "I will be down in a minute."
She checked her appearance in the mirror, tidied her hair, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, and took three deep breaths. Then she went downstairs to get it over with.
In the drawing room, she found Oliver sitting in a chair like he owned it, waiting for her. He rose when she entered and bowed. There was something strange about his appearance, and after a moment she realized what: he was wearing a new coat, very expensive-looking, of the latest cut. She was used to him wearing frayed clothing at least two years out of date. He never seemed to have any money. Now, even his boots were so neatly polished they gleamed. And was that a jewelled pin in his cravat? Where did this prosperity come from?
She dismissed the question from her mind. It did not matter. His fortune, or lack thereof, was no concern of hers.
"What are you doing here?" she said.
He gave her a toothy smile. "Cate!"
"My friends call me Cate. You can call me Mrs Demery."
His smile did not falter. "Mrs Demery. I am happy to see you so well situated in life after your... maladjustment."
"What are you doing here?" she repeated. "Two years ago, you wanted nothing more to do with me. You have not the right to change your mind now."
Now, the smile faltered. "Cate—"
"Mrs Demery."
"Mrs Demery. I just... To tell you the truth, I... I wanted to see him. The boy. My son."
"Not your son. Never your son. That door is closed. You shut it yourself and I will not let you open it again." Anger, and a fierce desire to protect Luke, gave Cate's words spirit. "You cannot see him. Ever."
Oliver sighed so heavily the dried petals in a bowl of potpourri whirled and the scent of lavender rose over the room. "Then I will never have a son."
"That is no concern of mine."
"I can understand why you feel that way. Indeed, I know I am intruding upon your kindness by being here, but I am in such a position that I felt the need to beg the sympathy for a view through a locked window at a life I can now never have. Let me tell you something, Mrs Demery. I am engaged to be married."
This announcement was given with all the gravity of a confession of mortal illness. Cate squinted at Oliver, more confused than anything else. Then she realized that might be his object, to confound her into asking him for clarity.
"That is no concern of mine," she repeated. "I do not care. There are no connections between us anymore. You chose to sever them and they cannot be renewed. I wish you would leave now."
He shook his head. "I must have a confessor, and you are the only person who will understand."
"Then you must be forever misunderstood because I have no desire to hear your confession. Leave, please."
"Cate— I am marrying her for money."
"Don't say that name!" she snapped. "And there is no need to make a confession. Anyone who knows you understands your secret already."
"Don't be so harsh. I have no choice. It is this marriage or ruin — but this marriage is ruin in another way, and this is what only you will understand." He looked pleadingly at her. "My wife-to-be is past her child-bearing years. That is what I sacrifice, in order to preserve myself and my sister from ruin."
Cate stared at him in disgust. His situation was distasteful, certainly, but it was his attitude towards it that was truly repugnant. What he sacrificed. As though his wife was not also losing by the bargain, to have a husband who thought so of her, who used her so, and who prized money to the detriment of all other concerns.
"You sacrifice others," she said. "You sacrificed me to lust. You sacrificed my son to selfishness. You will now sacrifice your wife-to-be to greed. You have no right to complain. I do not want to hear it. I want you to leave now, and I don't want to see you ever again."
"Just let me look at him once. One look is all I ask. I will carry it with me the rest of my life."
"No. You will never see him. You don't deserve even a glance."
His mouth moved about his teeth as though he was considering whether or not to hit her. Cate braced herself, but Oliver was not a man given to physical confrontation. Instead, he sneered unpleasantly and laughed through his teeth.
"Perhaps you are afraid I would find he does not look like me after all. I always did wonder if perhaps there was another man. You were so eager to bed me, that I cannot—"
Oliver broke off abruptly and stared over Cate's shoulder. She turned and saw Laurie standing in the doorway, face pale and eyes black with fury.
"Who is this?" she demanded. "No, I heard enough to understand. My god, Cate, what is he doing here? Why did you let him in?"
"He's an unwanted guest."
"Then send him away." Laurie marched forward into the room, holding an umbrella out in front of her like a sabre. "Get out of here. You're not wanted."
Oliver retreated from the point of Laurie's umbrella. "Now, dear woman, I don't know what you think you heard—"
"Out!" Laurie whacked him on the shin with the umbrella. "Out! Now!"
He winced and hopped towards the door. "Cate—"
"Don't say that name!" Cate said. "Get out! You've been told!"
It was easier to tell him to get out, somehow, when Laurie was chasing him out with her umbrella at his ankles. She managed to get in some good whacks across the back of his knees as he scrambled for the door and out into the hall. Cate followed them to make sure that he actually left. At the front door, Laurie whacked him savagely across the rump and he squealed as he jumped down the front steps. This startled the horse tied to the post at the bottom of them, and he almost fell as he scrambled to mount it. He managed at last and galloped away.
Cate was breathing heavily. Laurie turned and looked at her.
"Why did you let him in?" she said. "No, why on earth did you bed that slimy fop? He is Luke's father, isn't he?"
"Shush." Cate looked around in case any servants were watching. "Let me explain. You will understand, I think."
"I do understand and I don't like it. How could you think anything of a man like that when you had my brother in the palm of your hand? My god, I knew you injured David, I knew you betrayed him, but this is insult to the injury."
"Don't." Cate took Laurie's arm and led her back into the drawing room, where she shut the door. "Please, don't. I've remonstrated myself enough. You can say nothing I haven't already thought."
"I think I can!" Laurie was indignant. "Why did you even let him in, Cate?"
"The servants did. I thought I should speak with him, and solve my own problem for once, rather than ask David to solve it for me."
"It could never do any good!" Laurie was scornful. "Men like that cannot be reasoned with, solved, or fixed. They just fester, and spoil everything they touch. You should have left David to deal with him."
"I was managing Oliver before you came. I don't need David to deal with him for me. Not everyone is like Wynn. Oliver is not violent."
Laurie froze where she had been pacing on the drawing room carpet, her umbrella hovering in mid-air. "What do you know about Wynn?"
"Sarah told me everything. I'm sorry for what happened to you."
"And what does Sarah know?"
"David explained what she did not."
Laurie was still frozen. Slowly, she lowered the umbrella to the floor again and stood very still. Her gaze was somewhere off in the distance, as though she was looking right through Cate to some other world entirely.
"I thought perhaps your experience with Wynn was why you were kinder to me than some others are," Cate said nervously. "That you understood why I would fall for the lies of a corrupt man, since you, too—"
"We are nothing alike!" Laurie's glittering eyes refocused upon Cate. "You have more in common with Wynn than I do with you. Wynn had his women, and you had your Oliver."
"That's not fair. He took advantage of me. He played my feelings."
"As you played my brother's." Laurie was merciless. "As you continue to play them."
"No, I'm trying to be good to him. I'm trying to do better."
"Nothing will ever be good enough. You broke his heart. Do you even know what that feels like? Did Oliver break your heart?" Laurie's eyes were narrow, watching Cate. "No. I can see he did not. You did not give it to him to break. But David has your heart now, doesn't he? Your unbroken heart. Let me pinch it a little. Sarah is in love with him. She always hoped to marry him, you see, and keep her grasp on the family fortune. From greed to love is but a simple step, for a woman like that. And David is far too kind and stupid to see her for what she is. A kind, stupid man living in the same house as a cunning, greedy woman who is in love with him, who covets him. Be careful, Cate, or you may find yourself taking a dose of your own medicine."
And laughing softly to herself, Laurie left without another word.
__
2023-05-29: Laurie and Cate... frenemies forever?