III
But for him there was to be no more peace.
It was now about four o'clock and already the dusk was closing in about the town. He decided that he would go and see whether Rachel were in.
He was determined that he would ask Rachel nothing; if she wished to speak to him he would help her, but it must be of her own free will—that was the only way at present.
For how much was the Duchess's malignity responsible? What exactly did she know? What did she intend to do?
Oddly enough, for a long time past some subconscious part of him had linked Rachel and Breton together, perhaps because they were the two persons in all the world for whom he most cared, perhaps because he had always known in both of them that rebellious discontent so unlike that Beaminster acquiescence.
As he drove through the evening streets, he felt that never, until now, had he known how dearly he loved Rachel. In his mind there was no judgment of her, only a sense of her peril; if she would speak to him!...
When he asked at the door of the flat for Lady Seddon he was told that she was out.
"Sir Roderick is at home, sir." He would see Roddy.
Roddy was sitting in the little box-like room known as the smoking-room, poring over a war map. About the map little flags were dotted; he had two in his hand and, with one hand lifted, was hesitating as to their position.
"That was a damned bad mess——" Christopher heard him say as he came in.
At the sound of the door Roddy looked up, straightened himself, and then came forward.
"Hallo! Christopher," he said. "Delighted. Splendid! Rachel's out, but she said she'd be back to tea."
He was not looking well—fat, his cheeks pale and puffy, lines beneath his eyes.
"I'm jolly glad you've come," he said. He drew two arm-chairs to the fire and they sat down.
Roddy then talked a great deal. He was always a little nervous with Christopher because he was well aware that the doctor had disapproved of his marriage.
Christopher had lately shown him that he liked him, but still Roddy was not at his ease. He talked of the war, then of golf, then polo, then horses, Seddon Court—abruptly he stopped and sat there gazing moodily into the fire.
"You're not looking well, Seddon," Christopher said quietly.
"I'm not very—Nobody's at their liveliest just now with fellers one knows droppin' out any minute.... One feels a bit of a worm keepin' out of it all—skunkin' rather——"
Moodily he sat there, his head hanging, dejected as Christopher had never seen him before.
Suddenly he said—"That ain't quite the truth, Doctor. I am a bit worried——"
"My dear boy," Christopher said, putting his hand on the other's knee—"If there's anything in the world I can do for you, tell me."
"Thank you. You're a brick. I'm damned unhappy, Christopher, and that's the truth——"
"Rachel——" said Christopher.
"Yes—Rachel. I got to talk to somebody. I've been goin' along on my own now for months and I know you're fond of her——"
"I am," said Christopher, "more than of anyone in the world——"
"I know. That's how I can talk to you. I wouldn't have you think I'm complainin' of her. I'm gettin' nothin' but what I asked for, you know. But it's just this. When she took me she never said she loved me, in fact she said she didn't, but I thought that it wouldn't matter—all you wanted in marriage was just to be pals and show up about the town together and treat one another honourably. Well," said Roddy, taking now a melancholy interest in his discoveries concerning himself, "damn it all, if I haven't rotted the bargain by fallin' in love with her. Jove! Why, I hadn't a ghost's guess at what Love meant before Rachel came along. Of course it isn't her fault. You couldn't expect her to love an ordinary sort of chap like me, just like a million other fellers knockin' about—but she's so unusual there ain't another woman in the world so surprisin' as Rachel—
"She's fond of me," he went on, "I know that, but what I want she just can't give me and that's the long and short of it.
"Lately it's been terrible hard. She's not happy and that makes me wild, and every day that passes I seem to want her more. Nothin' else, no one else matters now. I've been playin' golf, ridin', sittin' down to this bridge they're all getting mad about, doin' every blessed thing—it isn't any use. Do you know, Christopher," he said slowly, "I'd give my soul to make her happy and I just can't——"
"I know——" said Christopher.
"But it's worse than that—" Roddy went on, taking up the poker and knocking on the fire—"Lately she's been having a room of her own. Started it a while ago as a temporary thing and now she sticks to it. Up here, in this damned town, we hardly see one another; always a crowd either here or outside. I know Rachel don't like it and I don't like it, but there it is—
"Next week we're going down to Seddon and things may get better there—But I can't stand it much more—not like this."
"Wait a bit. It'll come all right." Christopher spoke confidently. "I've know Rachel since she was a small child. She's half Russian, you know—you must always remember that—and Russian and Beaminster make a strange mixture—Wait——"
"That's so easy to say—" Roddy answered, shaking his head. "It's so easy to say, but I don't see just what's goin' to make things different from what they are——"
"No—one never sees," said Christopher. "And then Destiny comes along and does something that we call coincidence and just settles it all. Your trouble will be settled, Roddy, if you're patient——"
"Perhaps," Roddy said slowly, "you could see her a bit—find out——" he stopped.
"Anything in the world I can do I will. We'll find a way. Meanwhile, Seddon, there is a bit of advice I can give you——"
"What's that?" asked Roddy.
"Go and see the Duchess more than you've been doing. See her a lot—more than you did ever——"
"Oh! the Duchess!" Roddy sighed. "I don't know, but it all seems different with her now. I've changed, I suppose. All her ideas are old-fashioned and wrong; I used to think her rather splendid——"
"Yes—but she's ill and old, and you're the only person in the world she cares about."
"Yes, I'll go," said Roddy slowly. "I've known I ought to go."
Voices broke in upon them; the door opened and Rachel, followed by her friend May Cremlin, once May Eversley, came in—
"Oh! Dr. Chris! You dear!" she cried, and came forward and flung her arms about him and kissed him.
Her cheeks were flushed, from her black furs her eyes shone at him. Some thought caught him. He knew where he had seen that excited glitter already to-day—Breton at luncheon—
They all talked. Then Christopher said that he must go.
Rachel came with him to the door. In the hall she looked at him defiantly, that flash he knew so well.
"You never come now, Dr. Chris: you've given me up."
"I don't care for you in a crowd very much. There's always a crowd now——"
"Ask me alone and I'll come," she said, but still her eyes were defiant.
"No," he said gravely. "I'll do no asking, Rachel. When you want me I'm there for you at any time—at any time——"
For answer she flung her arms again about him and hugged him. Her heart was beating furiously. Then without another word she left him.