The Meaning of Night

‘I have brought you a present,’ she said, handing me the book.

It was a copy of Gildon’s edition of Shakespeare’s poems.^*

‘My thoughts have been ever on love during my exile,’ she said, ‘and this little volume has been my constant solace. Now when we are apart, you may read it and be comforted too, knowing that my tears are on every page. I have underlined those passages that gave me especial comfort. Now tell me what you have been doing since we last met.’

And so we continued to talk until the light began to fade, and my dear girl said that she must call her maid to begin dressing for dinner.

‘I regret that I cannot invite you to join us,’ she said as we walked towards the door, ‘but you understand that I am Lord Tansor’s guest now.’

‘Of course,’ I replied. ‘But when may I come again?’

‘Tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Come tomorrow.’

As I was descending the stairs to the vestibule, I came upon Lizzie Brine. As she was with another servant, she made no attempt to speak to me but only gave a little bob, along with her companion, and went on her way. But when I reached the bottom of the stair-case and looked back, I saw her standing at the top, with a curious anxious look on her face that I found impossible to interpret.

I returned to the Duport Arms in Easton, though I remember nothing of the walk back, nor what I ate for dinner, nor how I occupied myself that evening.

The next afternoon, I returned to Evenwood as arranged, though this time, at my dear girl’s suggestion, I made my own way up to her apartments by a little winding stair-case, which was gained through a door leading off the path that ran from the Library Terrace round the base of Hamnet’s Tower. Once again we sat together in the window-seat, talking and laughing until a servant brought in candles.

‘Sir Hyde Teasedale and his simpering daughter are dining tonight,’ she sighed. ‘She is such a ninny, and her new husband is no better. I declare that I have no idea what I shall say to either of them. But, Lady Tansor being so singularly defective as a hostess, I seem to have been given the honour of entertaining her husband’s guests, and so I must away to do my Lord’s bidding. Oh Edward, if only I was not so beholden to Lord Tansor! It makes me so miserable to think that I must spend my life at his beck and call. And then what will happen to me when he dies? I was not born for this, but what can I do? Now that my father has gone, I have no one.’

She bowed her head as she said the words, and I felt my heart beat a little faster. Now is the time. Now. Tell her now.

‘My darling,’ I said, stroking her hair. ‘Put all your concerns aside. This is not your future.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I am your future, and you are mine.’

‘Edward, dearest, you are talking in riddles. Speak plainly, my love.’

‘Plainly? Very well. Here it is, as plain as I can make it. My name is not Edward Glapthorn. It is Edward Duport, and I am Lord Tansor’s son.’

^*[‘To know all things is not permitted’ (Horace, Odes, IV.iv). Ed.]

^*[The bookseller David Nutt, at 270 and 271 Strand. Ed.]

^*[A Collection of Poems, edited by Charles Gildon (1665–1724) and published by Bernard Lintot in a small octavo, one-volume edition in 1709 (it later appeared in two volumes). It contains Venus and Adonis, The Rape of Lucrece, The Passionate Pilgrim, and ‘Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Musick’, which are in fact the last six poems in the preceding work. Ed.]

41

Resurgam^*

She listened in silence as I told her my story. I spared her no detail. Everything was laid out before her: the conspiracy devised by Lady Tansor and my foster-mother, Simona Glyver; my upbringing as Edward Glyver at Sandchurch; my first meeting with Daunt at Eton, and his subsequent betrayal of me; the discovery of the truth concerning my birth in my foster-mother’s journals; and my continuing quest to find the final proof that would enable me to claim my rightful place as a member of the Duport family. I told her also of how I had first come to London as Edward Glapthorn, to seek information from Mr Tredgold on the arrangement made between Lady Tansor and my foster-mother, and how I had retained my assumed name after the Senior Partner had offered me employment. Finally, I spoke of Daunt’s criminal character, and of his association with Pluckrose and Pettingale. With each truth that I revealed, I felt cleansed, with a sensation of sweet relief that the burden of deceit had been lifted at last.

When I had finished, she walked to the window, and looked out across the darkling Park. I waited expectantly.

‘This is so hard for me to comprehend,’ she said at length, ‘though at least I now understand your interest in Mr Phoebus Daunt. Lord Tansor’s son – is it possible? Oh—’ She gave a little cry and placed her hand to her lips. ‘Cousins! We are cousins!’

Then she turned towards me.

‘Why did you not tell me before?’

‘Dearest Emily, don’t be angered. How I have wished – most desperately – to bring you into my confidence; but how could I do so until I could be sure that you felt for me as I feel for you, when so much was at stake? Now that I know beyond all doubt – by your letters, and by the sweet words that you have spoken to me, and by all the tender moments we have shared – that your love for me is as strong and as unbreakable as is mine for you, why of course the situation is entirely different. Where true love is, trust and frankness must follow. There can now be no more secrets between us. When we are married —’

‘Married?’ She seemed to sway a little, and I reached out to wrap her in my arms.

‘It is what you wish, is it not, my love?’

She nodded slowly. There were tears in her eyes.