Page 24 of Blackmail at Beckwith Place
Aunt Roz threw the hand up that wasn’t supporting little Bess. “Then I don’t know what we’re supposed to do.”
“Wait for her to wake up and accuse somebody, I suppose,” I said. “I’m sure she’ll recognize him when she sees him, don’t you think?”
And if she hadn’t recognized Crispin, and by default Christopher, then there was only Francis left.
His jaw was tight as he sat next to me. “The doctor said she’d wake up by tomorrow?”
“He didn’t say specifically. But that was the impression I got. We’ll just have to wait.”
He nodded. “Excuse me. I feel the need for a stiff drink.”
He didn’t look at either of us—not even Constance—when he pushed to his feet and strode into the house. Uncle Herbert watched him go with a concerned wrinkle between his brows, and Constance flushed, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. She stared down at her hands, blinking hard. Aunt Roz and I exchanged a glance across the table, but I don’t think either of us knew what to say.
“I’m going to go wait for Christopher and the Crossley,” I said, pushing my chair back. “Would you like to come with me, Constance?”
Constance hesitated, with a tortured glance at the house.
“He’ll have to deal with this on his own,” Aunt Roz told her. “He’ll be back when he gets his head on straight.”
Constance nodded, but she didn’t look as if she believed it. “What if?—?”
“He won’t break the engagement,” I said. “Not unless you ask him to.”
“That’s not what concerns me.” She lowered her voice. “He hasn’t used Veronal for more than two months now. Not since the funerals. Not even while Christopher was unconscious for those few days, and you were all worried that he wouldn’t wake up. But now…”
Now, with this hanging over his head, Francis might seek oblivion in alcohol and dope again.
“That’s a valid concern,” Aunt Roz told her, kindly, while Bess gurgled happily on her lap, “but there’s nothing you can do about it, Constance. Francis has to decide on his own not to drown his emotions. You can’t do it for him.”
“But if we are to be married…”
Aunt Roz shook her head. “You will still be two different people, Constance. You cannot take on Francis’s problems as if they are your own. You can help him with what troubles him?—”
Constance opened her mouth and Aunt Roz lifted a finger to pause her, “—but only if he asks. Don’t manage him.”
“Please don’t,” I muttered, slanting a glance over at Lady Laetitia, who was managing Crispin for all she was worth.
“The secret to a happy marriage,” Aunt Roz intoned, “is to be together as equals. You have a life of your own, and let him have a life of his own. Then you can meld your two lives together, and neither of you will get swallowed up by the other. If you let yourself be subsumed by your husband’s life, or you let him be subsumed by yours, you’ll come to trouble down the line. Mark my words.”
Constance gulped, nodding. I nodded, too. Not from personal experience, but because I had watched Aunt Charlotte be Uncle Harold’s wife and Crispin’s mother with absolutely no life of her own for years, and it wasn’t something I wanted for myself.
“Go with Pippa,” Aunt Roz told Constance. “Francis will do what Francis will do. If he needs a stiff drink, let him have one. And when he comes out of it, be there for him. That’s all you can do besides staying healthy yourself.”
“Come on,” I told her, taking her elbow and giving her a boost out of the chair. “We’ll figure this out. We’re smart girls. We can do it.”
Constance nodded. “Thank you, Roslyn.”
“Don’t mention it, dear.” Aunt Roz smiled sweetly and got to her own feet. “If you girls are leaving, I think I’ll join Herbert’s table. They’re enjoying themselves far too much over there.”
She drifted off in that direction, baby on her hip, while Constance and I headed down the steps onto the grass. Crispin watched us go, until Laetitia tapped him on the cheek and he turned back to her with a practiced smile.
“Stupid man,” I grumbled under my breath.
Constance slanted a look my way. “Francis?”
I shook my head. “St George. Also known as the most annoying man in England.”
Her dimple made an appearance. “Only in England? Are you sure you wouldn’t like to add in the Continent too?”
