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Andrew came that evening. He was surprised, and shocked, to see Cornelia, but they had little chance to exchange more than a few words, for which she, at least, was grateful, since she felt ill at ease with him now.
Her love for him had suffered a complete change. Having known him all her life so well, she could not cease to love him, but she knew very well that the reality of that love had undergone a strange alteration. It was now a mere affection, warm and strong, but no longer what it had been. Her heart did not beat when she saw him. Her breath did not catch. Perhaps, she thought sadly, she had never loved him as she had imagined—being romantic by nature, she had mistaken sisterly affection for love, and had persuaded herself that her pulses beat, her temples burned at the sight of Andrew.
It had taken that meeting with Rendel to bring her to her senses.
She should have known from the beginning. She would have known, had not Rendel behaved so badly. Her anger and revulsion had made her blind to what was happening between them.
She caught herself up suddenly. She knew now that she loved Rendel.
But did her husband love her?
Or merely desire her?
She did not know because Rendel had no intention that she should ever penetrate the smiling mask he wore.
Hope made her tremble with the anticipation of joy. Why, she thought, did he need to wear a mask, except to hide his feelings from her? He had never hidden his desire. That he had expressed openly and bluntly from the start.
What, then, did he hide? And why?
Mistress Brent was plainly uneasy whenever she saw Andrew and her daughter together, but gradually, as the time passed, she began to notice little things which, revealingly, betrayed Cornelia’s new state of
mind, and she began to relax.
Cornelia would not have raised the subject, but when her mother hesitatingly broached it, she did admit that she no longer loved Andrew in the old way.
‘I am glad,’ murmured her mother. ‘For I know that Andrew has decided to marry Ellen, and it is a good match for both of them. Very suitable and right.’ She sighed. ‘I am glad you are happy, child. I was anxious about your marriage. We were wrong to force you against your will—but I am sure it will all prove happy in the end.’
‘Yes,’ Cornelia agreed. She determined to visit Ellen that afternoon and find out if it were true that she and Andrew were to marry. Ellen might stop him killing himself with work. Someone must do something soon. Andrew looked more grey and weary each time she saw him, as though demons drove him endlessly towards his death.
When Ellen saw her at the door, she looked briefly alarmed, then smiled with the old warmth and welcomed her into the house.
‘The doctor is visiting a patient,’ she said.
‘I came to see you, Ellen,’ Cornelia replied, kissing her on the cheek.
Ellen’s eyes looked into hers, sharp and penetrating. ‘To see me?’
‘My mother tells me,’ Cornelia began hesitantly, as Ellen gestured to her to sit down in the cosy kitchen, ‘that you are to be married.’
Ellen poured ale into two wooden cups and put them on the broad, scrubbed deal table. ‘Have you come to forbid the banns, Mistress Cornelia?’ she asked bluntly.
Cornelia flushed scarlet. ‘Ellen!’
Ellen looked at her frankly. ‘Aye, well, I know how it was with you two long ago. You always doted on the man, and he was fair silly for you. But you’re a married lady now, and with a handsome gentleman for a husband. . . ’
‘Ellen,’ Cornelia broke in hurriedly, ‘I came to wish you happy, that is all.’
Ellen looked hard at her in silence for a while, then she smiled with her usual broad good humour.
‘I beg your pardon, then, indeed I do. I will let my tongue run away with my brains, you know, my dear. I should not have spoken so free.’
‘You said only the truth,’ Cornelia admitted. ‘I did love Andrew very dearly. I still do.’
Ellen’s mouth tightened.
‘But as a brother,’ Cornelia went on quickly. ‘I have no other thought of him than that, Ellen. Truly. And it is as a sister that I have come to you today, to beg you to make him take more care of himself. He looks so old. I was quite shocked to see how rapidly he is ageing. Why, he is but thirty, and he looks at least ten years older. When you are married, persuade him to take more rest.’
‘I will try,’ Ellen said sombrely. ‘I doubt it will do much good. He is a stubborn man.’
