The Elsingham Portrait

Twelve


Kathryn glared back at the woman who was obstructing the kitchen doorway. “Give me that!” she ordered, and took the lock of auburn hair from Elspeth’s grasp. Pushing past the angry woman, she went to the open fireplace and threw the hair into the flames.

Elspeth gasped. If her ladyship was a witch as well as a brazen hussy, how dared she burn her own hair? Wasn’t that a devil’s trick witches used against their enemies? Her ladyship was coming back. Elspeth made the sign against evil which she had learned as a child. Her ladyship laughed.

“I should think a truly religious woman would be above believing in such superstitions.”

“I am a true Christian, and I fear you not, either as witch or wanton!”

Kathryn controlled her anger. “Let us go and get your Bible, and I shall swear to you that I am not, in truth or spirit, Lady Nadine Elsingham, as God is my witness,” she said quietly.

“Blasphemy!” Elspeth cried out.

“Nonsense. I am neither profane nor mocking. For a true believer, you seem remarkably forgetful. Let me quote two passages which seem to have slipped your mind. One is ‘Judge not that ye be not judged,’ and the other advises us, ‘Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment.’ ”

Shaken but still holding to her anger, Elspeth muttered, “ ‘The Devil can quote scripture for his own purposes.’ ”

Kathryn sighed. “Oh, Elspeth Cameron, can you really believe that I am that unhappy woman? What do you know of the dark forces that dragged her to her present state? Is there no pity in your heart for any creature?”

“I save my pity for them that merits it,” said Elspeth. “If you aren’t that hussy, what are you doing here?”

“I came because Bennet sent me, to give me a rest and a chance to heal my arm,” began Kathryn.

Elspeth made an ugly sound of scorn. “Maggie Bennet is a fool. She lives like an innocent at the Manor, praised and cosseted and deferred to, in a pretty little world of her own. She vaunts herself on believing no evil of anyone, even if the same is proven and common knowledge. Every servant at the Manor knows better than to tell her anything that might threaten her image of her nursling—”

“And what could even the most malicious gossip say against his lordship?” demanded Kathryn with a heat that surprised herself.

“Och, so now you know his lordship, do you? I thought it was only Bennet you were acquainted with,” sneered Elspeth. “The gossip, as well you know, was about his lordship’s wife, a red-haired Irish wanton, and his rash folly in so hastily wedding her, and the ugly scandals she has put upon him ever since. But you, Mistress red-haired Radcliffe of wherever you’re from—you wouldn’t have heard anything about that, would you?”

“I can only repeat what I have said,” Kathryn reiterated wearily, cursing the day she adopted the name Radcliffe instead of her own. “I am not Lady Nadine. I am going to my room to rest. And you may do whatever you like.” She turned and walked slowly up the stairway, leaving an angry, self-righteous woman behind her.

“I’ll begin by telling Richard Bennet what I think,” Elspeth cried out after her. “He’ll know how to handle the likes of you.” When the girl did not answer, Elspeth stumped back to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. The fact that she was beginning to have doubts about her deductions did not sweeten her temper in the least. It was inconceivable to her that anyone as wicked as Lord John’s wife was rumored to be could invoke the Holy Name so persistently without reprisal from on high. And yet—

Elspeth had hated the whey-faced, green-eyed creature from the moment that Richard Bennet had carried her into the guest bedroom in his own arms, and ordered her to undress the interloper and put her to bed. Those undergarments! No decent woman would be caught dead in them. Dead—! Elspeth sliced through a crusty load of bread with a savage slash of the big knife. To think that that creature should sit at the table across from Richard Bennet this night, and smile upon him, and stare at him out of those green eyes—and eat the bread that Elspeth Cameron had baked with her own honest hands . . .! It was not to be borne! Be she Irish wanton or Colonial trash, it was Elspeth’s clear duty to send her away from decent God-fearing folk!

And if she would not be sent? The thought struck Elspeth that the great baby, Richard, like all men, might be so bewitched by a pretty face that he’d refuse to throw her out. Then what?

It would be more than righteous flesh and blood could endure, to sit and watch her play off her tricks. But if she were not sent away . . . perhaps . . .? Elspeth gave the loaf one final, vicious slash.

*****



When Richard came home, she was ready for him, presenting the image of her usual controlled self. She greeted him as she always did, asked and answered the usual questions. Only when he enquired after their guest did her voice raise a little. She told him of the lock of hair and stated her belief that their guest was none other than the Lady Nadine, up to some deviltry.

During her recital Richard’s face became unusually stern. “If this is so,” he said at length, “and our guest is that lady, I cannot perceive that it is any of my business—or yours.”

“Not your business?” Elspeth repeated incredulously. “This is your house! Would you permit such a—person to remain here, knowing her reputation?”

“My sister sent her here for shelter. Surely she would know if—”

“Mag Bennet is as innocent as a babe unborn,” protested Elspeth. “She’s just fool enough—”

“Elspeth Cameron,” said Richard quietly. She had never heard such iron in a man’s voice. “This is, as you remind me, my house. The lady will stay here as long as she wishes. Can you accept that? If not, then perhaps you should go.”

Leave Bennet Farm? Leave its master? To her inner rage, Elspeth found herself cravenly agreeing to accept anything and anyone Richard Bennet ordered. The thought of being banished from this house was more than her spirit could endure.

Richard gave her his gentle smile, willing to forget and forgive, anxious to wipe out the memory of an unpleasant scene. But Elspeth Cameron, though silenced, would never forget.