Only Time Will Tell (The Clifton Chronicles, #1)(101)
Emma buried her head in Harry’s shoulder, while he searched among the chattering congregation, trying to find out who it was who had caused such consternation. He assumed it must be Emma’s father, but when he looked down at the front row he saw Hugo Barrington, white as a sheet, was also trying to see who had brought the ceremony to a premature halt.
The Reverend Styler had to raise his voice to be heard above the growing clamour. ‘Would the gentleman who has objected to this marriage taking place please make himself known.’
A tall, upright figure stepped out into the aisle. Every eye remained fixed on Captain Jack Tarrant as he made his way up to the altar before coming to a halt in front of the chaplain. Emma clung on to Harry, fearful he was about to be prised away from her.
‘Am I to understand, sir,’ said the chaplain, ‘that you feel this marriage should not be allowed to proceed?’
‘That is correct, sir,’ said Old Jack quietly.
‘Then I must ask you, the bride and groom and the members of their immediate family to join me in the vestry.’ Raising his voice, he added, ‘The congregation should remain in their places until I have considered the objection, and made my decision known.’
Those who had been bidden were led by the chaplain into the vestry, followed by Harry and Emma. Not one of them spoke, although the congregation continued to whisper noisily among themselves.
Once the two families had crammed themselves into the tiny vestry, the Reverend Styler closed the door.
‘Captain Tarrant,’ he began, ‘I must tell you that I alone am vested by law with the authority to decide whether this marriage should continue. Naturally I shall not come to any decision until I have heard your objections.’
The only person in that overcrowded room who appeared calm was Old Jack. ‘Thank you, chaplain,’ he began. ‘Firstly, I must apologize to you all, and in particular to Emma and Harry, for my intervention. I have spent the past few weeks wrestling with my conscience before coming to this unhappy decision. I could have taken the easy way out and simply found some excuse for not attending this ceremony today. I have remained silent until now in the hope that in time any objection would prove irrelevant. But sadly that has not proved to be the case, for Harry and Emma’s love for each other has in fact grown over the years, and not diminished, which is why it has become impossible for me to remain silent any longer.’
Everyone was so gripped by Old Jack’s words that only Elizabeth Barrington noticed her husband slip quietly out of the back door of the vestry.
‘Thank you, Captain Tarrant,’ said the Reverend Styler. ‘While I accept your intervention in good faith, I need to know what specific charges you bring against these two young people.’
‘I bring no charge against Harry or Emma, both of whom I love and admire, and believe to be as much in the dark as the rest of you. No, my charge is against Hugo Barrington, who has known for many years that there is a possibility that he is the father of both of these unfortunate children.’
A gasp went around the room as everyone tried to grasp the enormity of this statement. The chaplain said nothing until he was able to regain their attention. ‘Is there anyone present who can verify or refute Captain Tarrant’s claim?’
‘This can’t possibly be true,’ said Emma, still clinging on to Harry. ‘There must be some mistake. Surely my father can’t . . .’
That was the moment everyone became aware that the father of the bride was no longer among them. The chaplain turned his attention to Mrs Clifton, who was quietly sobbing.
‘I can’t deny Captain Tarrant’s fears,’ she said haltingly. It was some time before she continued. ‘I confess I did have a relationship with Mr Barrington on one occasion.’ She paused again. ‘Only once, but, unfortunately, it was just a few weeks before I married my husband – ’ she raised her head slowly – ‘so I have no way of knowing who Harry’s father is.’
‘I should point out to you all,’ said Old Jack, ‘that Hugo Barrington threatened Mrs Clifton on more than one occasion, should she ever reveal his dreadful secret.’
‘Mrs Clifton, may I be allowed to ask you a question?’ said Sir Walter gently.
Maisie nodded, although her head remained bowed.
‘Did your late husband suffer from colour-blindness?’
‘Not that I’m aware of,’ she said, barely loudly enough to be heard.
Sir Walter turned to Harry. ‘But I believe you do, my boy?’
‘Yes I do, sir,’ said Harry without hesitation. ‘Why is that of any importance?’
‘Because I am also colour-blind,’ said Sir Walter. ‘As are my son and grandson. It is a hereditary trait that has troubled our family for several generations.’
Harry took Emma in his arms. ‘I swear to you, my darling, I didn’t know anything about this.’
‘Of course you didn’t,’ said Elizabeth Barrington, speaking for the first time. ‘The only man who knew was my husband, and he didn’t have the courage to come forward and admit it. If he had, none of this need ever have happened. Father,’ she said, turning to Lord Harvey, ‘can I ask you to explain to our guests why the ceremony will not be continuing.’
Lord Harvey nodded. ‘Leave it to me, old gal,’ he said, touching her gently on the arm. ‘But what are you going to do?’