A Fall from Grace - Maggie Ford (have you read this book TXT) 📗

‘He probably needs me more,’ she shot back at him a little sharper than she meant to. ‘He is my husband and a wife’s place is by her husband’s side if he’s ill. I want to be with you, darling, more than anything, but what can I do?’

She was worried for James but at the same time angry that his health was interfering with her and his nephew’s time together. There was a small voice inside her head which insisted that if pneumonia should chance to end James’s life, she’d be free to marry Anthony. Though she fought hard to push such wicked thoughts away they persisted. But as winter faded and James recovered, she found herself deeply relieved – not because he’d survived, but more that she would have been assailed by such a terrible sense of guilt if he hadn’t, almost as if the thought itself would have caused him to die.

Although he had recovered, it wasn’t the same any more. Illness had left his chest so weak that even the warmer months of early spring didn’t seem to help his improvement. There were frequent bouts of bronchitis, their doctor now a frequent visitor, and with James needing specialized care, a nurse was procured. It all put a stop to most of her social arrangements, especially those parties she was known for, as James needed peace and quiet.

More and more Madeleine felt obliged to be with him, and James, less able to go regularly to his place of business, felt obliged to leave the running of it in the hands of his partner, George Foster. He hardly ever left the house these days, and his expressions of gratitude were no help to Madeleine, leaving her feeling guilty on the rare occasions she managed to steal away to see Anthony.

‘We really can’t go on like this,’ Anthony said as she began to dress herself ready to go back to James. The shock of his words pierced her heart as if he had struck into it with a knife.

‘Are you tired of me?’ she exclaimed then broke down as a sudden flood of tears overwhelmed her already miserable being; stood before him still half dressed, head bent, trembling hands covering her face.

Anthony, still naked, was beside her instantly, enfolding her in his arms. ‘Good God, Maddie! Of course not, my darling! I didn’t mean it to sound that way.’

‘It was the way… the way you said it,’ she sobbed into his bare chest. ‘It sounded so… matter of fact.’

‘I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I was only thinking of you, my darling, being torn in two.’

‘Then what do we do?’ she asked, gulping, just managing to control her sobs.

‘Bury this feeling of guilt, sweetheart, and start to come here again on our old regular basis. I can’t bear not seeing you. I long for those afternoons we spent together. Now it’s just as and when you can tear yourself away from him. I even feel jealous thinking of you there and me here. Sometimes I even catch myself wishing he would die and we could be together, always.’

The last was said in a whisper, almost inaudible, but so passionate that Madeleine felt her heart go cold. She reached up and held his face between her two hands.

‘You mustn’t say such things, Tony!’ she burst out. ‘I love you with all my heart. I sometimes feel the same – us… unable to be together all the time? I want to be with you, always, but we mustn’t ever think such wicked things as that…’

She heard her voice trail off, knowing he was aware of her identical feelings, but she was too worn down to try convincing him otherwise, loathing herself for such wicked thoughts – thoughts she couldn’t help having.

Seconds later her mind had shut down on this confusion of thoughts as his lips closed over hers with a fierce need, the two of them sinking back onto the already crumpled bedclothes.

Nineteen

Whether James could read her mind or merely harboured a premonition of his demise, he said to her one day, quite out of the blue, ‘I feel I am being such a burden to you, my dear.’

They were sitting in the lounge where he’d insisted on being despite yet another attack of bronchitis, Madeleine holding his hand as she often did these days.

‘You’re not a burden, James, not at all,’ she said, her tone sharp with guilt, but his fingers tightened feebly about hers.

‘I fear I am,’ he said. ‘I’m so grateful to have you by my side. Had I not met you…’ He broke off to another bout of coughing, his chest sounding tight and painful. It was late April and yet still he suffered. There seemed no end to it.

Waving away the nurse sitting nearby as she jumped up to help, he went on, ‘I don’t know how long this blasted condition will last before it sees me off, but in case it does—’

‘James, don’t say things like that!’ Madeleine burst out, but he let go of her hand and held up his own to still her protest.

‘In case it does,’ he continued. ‘I need to do something for you… Something you’ve wanted for a long time. Just lately I’ve been giving more thought to it. Of course, if anything happens to me you will be left safe and comfortably off, but I need to know that you will not be left on your own.’

‘Please,’ she began in alarm, now certain that he knew about her and Anthony, but again he held up his hand to quell her outburst.

‘I’ve decided,’ he went on, interrupted by yet another heavy bout of coughing and then recovering, while she sat tense with dread of what he knew. ‘I have decided, my dear, to engage a reputable enquiry agency—’

‘James!’ she could only gasp defensively, but again he cut her short.

‘My way of expressing my gratitude for all you have