Sword to the Heart (Bantam Series No. 13) (9 page)

He seemed to consider his words and he went on:

“There is much here which I am sure will give you pleasure. The Colwall family jewels are magnificent. You will not find me an ungenerous husband in every other way, and I am sure that our children, when we have them, will make up to you for all the shortcomings of their father!”

Natalia was very still and then she said:

“Are you really
...
suggesting that, now I know you do not ... love me, I should
...
permit you to give me a
...
child?”

For a moment Lord Colwall looked embarrassed, but he said in an unemotional voice:

“I can appreciate that you are very innocent in these matters, but you will find it not too unpleasant to accept me as your husband—in fact, as well as in name.”

There was the slightest twist of his lips as he added:

“I am not inexperienced where women are concerned, Natalia, and I am confident that I can make our association, if that is the right word for it, pleasurable for us both.”

Natalia jumped to her feet.

“No! No!”

Lord Colwall looked at her in surprise.

“May I enquire what you mean by that?”

“It means,” Natalia replied, “that I could not allow you to touch me
...
now that I know you do not love me!”

For a moment there was an expression of anger in Lord Colwall’s eyes, but he managed to say unemotionally:

“That is a ridiculous assertion, as you must well know. For the moment you are upset, but I have asked you to forget what you inadvertently overheard. In fact I order you to do so.”

“And you imagine
...
even if I could forget it
...
that I could delude myself into
...
believing that you
...
love me?” Natalia asked.

“I have told you that there is no point in our discussing love,” Lord Colwall replied. “But let me tell you in all sincerity, Natalia, that I do appreciate that you will make me a very charming wife, and I cannot believe that in the course of a few minutes the love that you have just professed to feel for me has changed into dislike.”

“No, I do not ... dislike you,” Natalia said. “I love you ... although I was mistaken in thinking you love me. But I
...
cannot give you a
...
child.”

“Why not?”

There was no doubt of the irritation in Lord Colwall’s tone now.

“Because if we had one without you
...
loving me
...
then it might easily be
...
deformed.”

Lord Colwall stared at Natalia incredulously, and then as if he could not prevent himself he ejaculated:

“What the devil do you mean by that?”

Natalia’s hand went up to the pendant which she wore around her neck. She felt her fingers touch the cool enamel of the Knight. Somehow she felt that it gave her courage.

“Will you allow me to
...
explain exactly what I mean, My Lord?”

“But of course,” Lord Colwall said courteously, the irritation fading from his eyes. ‘Will you not sit down?”

He indicated the sofa again. But Natalia sank down on the rug in front of the fire.

As if he sensed what she was feeling, Herald came to be beside her and place his great head in her lap.

She stroked him for a few moments until, when Lord Colwall had seated himself in a high-backed arm-chair, she began in a low voice:

“I thought about having
...
children and I wanted above all else to give you a
...
son.”

He did not speak and after a moment she went on:

“When I was coming here yesterday and I saw the Castle, I remembered how Mama had told me of the wonderful place it was for the young; a place for children to play Hide and Seek, to run along the broad corridors and to climb the turrets. I knew then I wanted to have not an only child, such as I myself had been, but a number.”

She paused and stared into the fire before she said:

“I am well aware that at the moment you are
...
incensed with me for not agreeing instantly to your wishes, but I think when you hear the
...
reason for my refusal, you will
...
understand.”

“I am listening,” Lord Colwall said.

“I must have been twelve, or perhaps thirteen, when I learned first that a baby could be born out of wedlock,” Natalia began in a low voice. ‘There was a girl living in the village, the daughter of a small farmer, who fell very much in love with one of the farm labourers.

“He was, of course, not of her class and there could be no question of her marrying him. But soon people began to talk of her condition, and I learned from the conversations I overheard in the village that she was having a baby.”

The colour rose in her cheeks.

“The man was sent away—no-one knew where he went—and the baby was born the following winter. His mother died in child-birth and the child was brought up by his grandparents.”

Natalia paused.

“When Jeremy was three years old, he was the most beautiful child I have ever seen in my life. I remember saying to Papa: ‘It seems strange that two quite ordinary-looking people should have such a beautiful child. He looks like an angel!’

“ ‘That often happens with love-children,’ Papa told me.

“ ‘But Jeremy was born in what everybody in the village calls “sin,” ’ I protested.

“Papa looked across the lake before he answered and then he said:

‘When a man and a woman love each other with all their heart, their soul and their body, Natalia, their desire for each other can, I am sure, evoke the Divine Life-Force. It pours through them, and at the moment of conception, they beget a child that is in fact, as we should all be, in the image of God’
.
”

Natalia’s voice died away. Then Lord Colwall said with a cynical smile:

“That is hardly a part of orthodox Christian doctrine.”

“But the Bible says that love is more important than anything else,” Natalia replied quickly.

He attempted no further argument, and after a moment she went on:

“Now I have another story to tell you.”

“I am still listening,” he replied.

“You will naturally understand that I often thought about little Jeremy. As he grew older, he had a sweet character which matched the beauty of his face. I do not think there was anyone in the village, however much they disapproved of his mother, who would have said a cruel or unkind word to Jeremy himself.”

“I assure you, most bastards are treated very differently,” Lord Colwall said almost harshly.

“I have heard that. Yet I have read much about them,” Natalia replied, “and there is no doubt that in history, when Kings and great noblemen have fathered illegitimate children, they have all been reported as being extremely handsome
...
like the Duke of Monmouth, for example.”

Lord Colwall had apparently no answer for this. Leaning back in his high-back chair, he looked amazingly elegant.

He had not changed from the tight-fitting, long-tailed, cut-away coat he had worn for his wedding, and his frilled cravat was a master-piece of intricate design. A huge emerald tie-pin glittered in the firelight, and his clear-cut features were revealed with every movement of the leaping flames.

“My other story,” Natalia went on, “is perhaps a little embarrassing for me to relate to you, but at the same time I want you to understand.”

“Needless to say, I am trying to do so,” Lord Colwall told her.

“There was another family in the village. The mother had been widowed when her husband was killed in an accident, and she had a daughter—a gypsy-like girl with dark eyes and dark hair.

“Sarah must have been fifteen when her mother decided to marry again. She took for a husband a rough, uncouth man who worked in the gravel-pits and did not belong to the village. I think he was part-Irish, part-Tinker.”

Natalia’s expression darkened.

“No-one liked him! He drank and was too quick with his fists to make anything but enemies. Not surprisingly Sarah loathed her step-father!”

Natalia glanced at Lord Colwall.

“Everyone was sorry for the girl. Soon after he moved into the cottage her mother occupied, there were stormy scenes and tales that he was knocking her about when he had drunk more than usual! Then one morning the step-father was found dead in bed beside his wife.”

“Dead?” Lord Colwall questioned.

“They had both gone to bed the worse for drink,” Natalia answered, “and Sarah’s mother had heard nothing during the night! When she awoke she found her husband with a long, sharp kitchen knife through his stomach!”

“Good Lord!” Lord Colwall exclaimed.

“Sarah had disappeared,” Natalia continued. “There was of course a hue and cry to find her and a warrant out for her arrest. Then people spoke of hearing her scream in the woods the night before.”

She made a little gesture with her hand.

“No-one had gone to her rescue because they knew that it was the route her step-father returned home from the gravel-pits, and he was an unpleasant person to encounter at any time. But there was no doubt that Sarah had been screaming for help.”

There was a little quiver in Natalia’s voice almost as if she was fighting against the horror such memories evoked before she went on:

“All this happened late last summer, and then in the spring of this year, Mama, Papa and I rose early as was usual on Sunday morning to go to Communion.

“We walked through the garden of the Vicarage, which, if you remember, is just beside the church.

“As we entered through the lich-gate we saw something white lying on one of the graves. As I looked, I realised that it was the grave of Sarah’s step-father, and I could not imagine who could possibly wish to lay flowers there when he had been so disliked.”

Natalia drew in her breath.

“When we drew nearer, we saw there were no
...
flowers on his grave but a
...
naked baby. It was dead! Quite dead, and it was
...
deformed! Terribly
...
obscenely deformed!”

“My God!” Lord Colwall said the words almost beneath his breath.

“They found Sarah two days
...
later in the
...
lake,” Natalia continued. “She was very
...
emaciated, I am told, as if she had been
...
starved!”

A tear overflowed onto her cheek and she wiped it away with the first finger of her right hand, then dropped her head low so that Lord Colwall could not see her face.

“I can appreciate,” he said after a moment, “this tragedy must have been a great shock for you. But I cannot quite see how either of your stories need concern us.”

Natalia’s head came up with a jerk.

“I cannot make it clearer,” she said, “than to tell you that a baby born in love, in or out of wedlock, is likely to be strong and beautiful, while the one born without love
...
may be
...
deformed.” Lord Colwall rose to his feet.

“Are you really suggesting,” he asked incredulously, “that everyone who conceives a child without love will breed a deformity?”

“No, of course not!” Natalia answered. “But it may account for the number of ugly, brainless, under-sized people one finds even in wealthy families.”

She saw the expression on Lord Colwall’s face.

“Papa told me the Ancient Greeks arranged beautiful statues round the bed of a woman who was about to give birth, believing the new-born child would resemble them.”

She considered her words before she continued slowly:

“I am convinced that the thoughts and feelings of a mother affect her unborn child. Therefore, as far as I am concerned, because I saw Sarah’s contorted, abnormal baby, it would be impossible, if I was having one without love, not to be haunted by the memory of it.”

She spoke quietly, but there was a note of conviction in her voice which Lord Colwall could not ignore.

“It is absurd! Absolutely absurd, without medical foundation of any sort!” he ejaculated.

“That may be your opinion,” Natalia replied, “but I have seen with my own eyes what can happen when a woman is forced against her will to
...
have a child from a man who has no feeling for her other than
...
lust!”

Lord Colwall put his hand up to his forehead.

“I cannot imagine how such things can happen in a small village,” he said angrily. “I thought that you were brought up in a quiet, decent place, where you would never encounter such horrors.”