THE HEART GOES ON
Chapter Twelve
Mid-October, 1912
Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin
Gerard
Jack came back down the stairs
after a while. He was quiet.
"Rose has dropped off,"
he said, rubbing his forehead. "God, I am tired."
Aunty said to him, "Gerard
will be staying tonight, Jack." Jack nodded impassively.
Aunty passed me a second cup of
tea and gave one to Jack. We all sat down. William excused himself, saying he
was going to check on the outbuildings.
"Where do we start?" Jack
asked. "I can’t believe you are that scum’s brother."
"Half-brother, very
different from me," I said. "We have the same father, but my mother,
Sylvie Dubois Hockley, is Nathan Hockley’s second wife. I am more like
her."
Jack watched with his blue eyes twinkling
with interest. Aunty’s eyes were inscrutable. Both were tense. Jack drummed his
fingers on the table.
"Your mother…is she a nice
woman?" Aunty inquired.
"She is French," I
said. "Very French--passionate and demanding, but she has a shrewd head on
her shoulders." I paused.
Should I tell the truth about our
fractured family, hidden beneath decorum and etiquette?
I breathed deeply. "She
needs to be strong to be married to my father. He is a very difficult man to
live with. He is supreme and commands his world with efficiency and control, I
am ashamed to say. Anyone who gets in his way…woe betide them." Anger
crept into my voice.
Jack and Janette exchanged
knowing looks.
"I was spared the worst of
his rage and ruthlessness, as my mother stands between us. I try very hard to
be the quiet, dutiful son and please him. The fact that he adores my mother
makes it easier for me."
"It can’t have been easy,
despite all your trappings of wealth," Jack said. He rested his head on
his arms and listened to me intently.
I continued, "It’s all about
the money, the social standing, and the powerful name of the Hockleys. Father
expects so much, especially from me, but even moreso from Caledon."
Jack winced as I said Caledon’s
name and then drank some tea slowly.
"Cal, being the older son,
has high expectations on his shoulders. He is so like Father. They clash so
much. Strange that as a child I pitied him, Father molding him to be his image,
no mother to shield him from the brutality of our father." My mouth twitched
with an emotion I could not control. "I am being candid here," I said
softly. "Father was vile to Cal. He would beat him with his belt and my
mother would stand by and let him. My mother never liked Cal. She said he hated
her from the first day they met as a young child. What can it do for a man’s
soul and heart when you are whipped like a dog, lashed with harsh words,
groomed to be the Hockley heir from a young age, and your stepmama hates you
and doesn’t love you? But Cal is not easy to love..." My voice trailed
off. There was silence in the room.
"Poor child," Aunty
said, and wiped a tear from her eye. "Who has grown up to be a
cold-hearted monster. Jack told us of his actions on the Titanic."
Jack, who had been quiet, spoke
up then and told me plainly about Cal and the way he had treated him and Rose
on the ship. Then he told me of the revelations of Ruth DeWitt Bukater and the
fact that my father had ruined the family, all in a bid to make way for Cal to
marry Rose.
I was appalled.
My cheeks burned. "I am nothing
like them," I said. "I may be a Hockley, with everything I could ask
for, but I try to be a gentleman. Cal and Father have really surpassed
themselves."
Jack’s smile dropped. "I
hate to tell you this, Gerard, but it gets worse."
"Oh?" I asked, wondering
how the hell it could get worse. My heart rate increased as Jack started to
speak.
"You seem like a decent
guy," Jack said. "I will tell you something that must be kept secret.
I have only just found this out myself. Aunty, get the photo!"
Aunty went to a drawer in the
kitchen cabinet, returned with a dog-eared photo, and handed it to me.
Jack
Gerard stared at the photo in
confusion and looked at me with big, brown, puzzled eyes. It was painful having
to fill this nice young man in on his family’s misdeeds, but it had to be done.
How he and Cal had the same father was mind-boggling. I could hardly take it in
myself. It was all too much for Rose to handle. How Aunty had kept the news for
years, I did not know.
"I don’t understand,"
he said in his refined voice.
"Two girls," I said.
"Two sisters, brought up to be young society ladies from a good home. Both
expected to marry well. Both would have large dowries and their future husbands
picked for them by their wealthy, ruthless father."
Gerard looked even more baffled.
"What have they got to with us?" he asked.
"The elder one, the pretty
one all smiles there, was married off young to a very rich high society
husband, and it was not a happy match. The younger girl saw all this and knew
they were plotting the same fate for her. She fell in love with a young man she
met at a country fair, who was a poor farmer, ran away with him, and defied her
family. They disowned her!"
I paused for breath.
Gerard commented, "It sounds
like a bad novel." I smiled faintly.
"Yes, I know it does, but it
is all true. The younger sister was called Hope, and she was my mother, Hope
Dawson."
He looked at the image of my
mother as a rich, upper class girl, and around at the farmhouse and all its
simplicity.
"Jack’s mother and father
were poor but happy," Aunty interrupted. "Jack’s mother was always a
lady, even living here amongst all these common folk." She laughed.
Gerard stared at me aghast.
"The most shocking part, my
dear Gerard, is still to come," I drawled, putting on a fake snobby
accent. I stopped, then continued in a normal, sober voice. "The sisters
were Tremaines of Boston, and the elder sister you see in the picture became
Mrs. Demelza Tremaine Hockley!"
There was silence in the room.
Gerard was struggling to digest the news. His face was gray. I helped him
along.
"Yep, that’s right. Dear Cal
and I are cousins, as our mothers were sisters, and you and I, Gerard, are
step-cousins. Small world, isn’t it? It’s done Rose’s head in, I can tell
you."
"Demelza Hockley is Cal’s
mother?" Gerard asked, surprised, speaking at last. "She died when he
was nine. My father never speaks of her except with distaste. This is all so
strange!" He was staring at the photo in amazement. "She would have
been my stepmama!"
Aunty put her cup down. "It
would have broken Demelza's heart to know what her son is," she said, her
voice shaking. "I never met her, but Hope always talked about her as a
gentle soul who loved flowers and animals and was kind and sweet. She did not
deserve to be married to Hockley. She was blessed with artistic ability and
would spend hours in the meadows, she and Hope painting flowers and things.
Both were very good at drawing." Aunty’s voice turned to pride. "Our
Jack can draw, too."
Gerard laughed suddenly.
"Well, I don’t think Cal can draw zilch." He handed the photo back to
Aunty. "That’s so sad about Demelza," he said sweetly.
I brought my portfolio over,
showed him some of my drawings, and told him of the exhibition and my plans. I liked
this step-cousin of mine; he was a genuine, caring guy.
Gerard told us of Emily, how he
was going to be married soon, and that he loved her and was fortunate that she
was money, too, so his father approved. As he spoke of her, his face lit up.
"I am going to take Rose to
Lake Wissota tomorrow, get her out of the way and get some fresh air into her.
She’s so pale. Besides…" I grinned. "I can catch up on some drawing,
and Cal will never track us down there. Do you want to come?"
Gerard nodded and smiled broadly.
"I would like that. We can talk more."
William walked back in then and
said we should take watches with the shotgun in case of any unwanted visitors.
I said I would take first watch. Aunty shooed William and Gerard upstairs to
get some sleep.
Left alone, sitting in front of
the fire, uneasiness sat heavy on me. I would happily put a bullet through Cal
if he came within a hundred yard of Rose and me. At least Gerard was on our
side, and was an ally.