“Papa never told us about his family. Hats, you said?”
“Yes, hats. The relative fortune of the Bennets was made from hats. Then they wished to forget that past of trade, which was unfortunate, because the hat trade permitted a style of living that being a solicitor or a vicar did not. I went to Oxford only to please my grandfather, but I had already decided to return to Luton and develop the family business and, of course, marry my lady. We intended to move to London, where I saw many opportunities, and Henrietta agreed with every plan, determined to take her part in our enterprise.
“Unfortunately, during that final summer, as I prepared to leave Oxford, a colleague of mine, not even a friend, for in those days one might be acquainted with a duke’s son but never his friend, offered to take me to Luton. I was so eager to see Henrietta that we stopped for an hour at her home upon the road. It proved a grave mistake, for everything went wrong from that moment onward. Our plans were shattered by a single glance from the proud Earl of Arrowfield, the son of the Duke of Beauford.”
“She was captivated by his title? Or his place in the ton?”
“I do not know. She said then that she had fallen in love. Yet I suspect it was a mixture of everything: the new life, theunknown world, London, one of the oldest titles in England and, yes, perhaps even him, for he was still a handsome young man.”
“Still?”
“Yes. In time, his dreadful vices made him rather repulsive. I never saw him again, but that is what Henrietta wrote to me.”
“Wrote to you?” Elizabeth asked, all reserve swept away by the excitement of a connection that had endured almost half a century.
“We remained in contact all those years.”
“Fifty years?” Elizabeth almost cried in astonishment and emotion.
“Yes, almost.”
“But how? Why?”
“Because less than two years after my departure to India, she understood the enormous mistake she had made. The earl was already a gambler when they married, and although he managed to conceal it for the first two years, it became impossible afterwards. I begged her to join me in India and forget England altogether, but she was already with child. Her daughter was born, and Henrietta devoted herself entirely to the girl until Sophia married a tradesman and left their home forever, unable to endure life with her father any longer. She asked Henrietta not to seek her out, saying that the only time she might eventually return would be upon the duke’s death.”
“No!”
“Unfortunately, it was true. Their life became so miserable because of him that her mother accepted Lady Sophia’s decision. Only a month afterwards, Henrietta was ready to follow me to Africa, for by then I was already there. She wrote a ten-page letter describing her courage and her indifference to the opinion of the world.”
He paused, and Elizabeth thought for a moment that he would go no farther, but he merely reflected, for he rarely revisited that old story.
“And?” Elizabeth murmured.
“And I was married.”
So it was true that he had once had a wife.
“Unfortunately, my wife and two sons died ten years ago when a friend from Europe came to visit us and brought with him an English cold. She was a splendid and fierce Bedouin woman. Her name was Mahmuna.”
“I am so sorry.”
“Yes, my sorrow is constant, and my decision to return was taken because I had enjoyed having a family so much. Mahmuna came to live with me under many of our British customs, yet she also brought with her the natural happiness of desert people. But all that was long ago. I continued to live in Africa only because I did not know what else to do. Then, almost two years ago, came that desperate letter from Henrietta, and you know the rest.”
Elizabeth’s bright smile both enchanted and amused him.
“My child, you are immensely eager for happy endings.”
“Are not all of us?” she asked.
“No. Some of us merely want a story. At seventy, my own story no longer requires such a happy ending.”
And they both smiled at the implication, whose meaning was perfectly clear.
“You are my happy ending, and Henrietta.”
“Did she regret it?”
“My dear, every one of us experiences both happiness and suffering,” he answered, trying to avoid the question, but Elizabeth persisted.
