by Iris Gower
‘Oh, you won’t overwork me, don’t worry!’ Lily said. ‘I’ll make sure of that. When can we expect these men, these colleagues?’ She wanted to ask him about paying the butcher; if she was to cook fine meals she needed meat, but she held her tongue waiting for him to speak.
‘Is tomorrow night too soon?’
‘Well, no.’ Lily thought quickly, there was some mutton in the cold pantry and mint in the garden. There was some beef waiting to be cooked; it was a small joint but supplemented with vegetables she could probably rustle up a meal for four.
‘Good.’ He rose to his feet and took her hands in his. ‘Now go and sort out a pretty dress to wear to charm my friends. I like the one with the rose-sprigged muslin, it shows your fine figure off to great advantage.’
It did; her breasts jutted out of the bodice a little bit too far in Lily’s opinion. But then she was flattered that James had noticed her at all. ‘All right, if you think it will suit,’ she said doubtfully. She would have to get the meal started and leave Betty to see to the final touches, otherwise Lily would arrive in the tiny dining room red from the heat of the fire.
It was late when Lily became aware of someone entering her bedroom. She sat up in alarm and saw James, holding a candle above his head. She could smell the porter on him and knew by the look on his face exactly what he wanted of her. He put down the candle and slid into bed and Lily stared at him, at a loss. Should she scream and push him out of her bed? Should she climb out herself and share Betty’s room?
James put his arm around her. ‘My lovely little Lily flower, do you know how much I want you, my darling?’ He kissed her mouth and she tasted the ale on him. It was sweet and Lily felt herself relaxing. ‘I’ve tried to fight it, Lily, I have no right to taste your sweetness when I have nothing to offer you except a roof over your head.’
She was flattered in spite of herself. ‘Shouldn’t we wait until we’re married?’ She felt it only proper to protest.
‘We’ll be married soon, my darling, no-one will know about this except me and you, will they?’
Lily had expected this after all; it was what all men wanted. His hair fell in soft curls against her cheek as he bent to kiss her neck and she felt a sort of tenderness for him that she had never felt for anyone before. He was like a little boy reaching out for the sweet jar.
‘I need you, Lily, I want to make love to you. Please let me,’ he whispered hoarsely, his hands pushed at her nightgown. With a sense of resignation, she slipped it off. ‘And then, Lily, when we have made enough money out of my friends, we will have the finest wedding in all the land.’
‘Yes, James.’ She felt breathless as he pressed closer to her. It could not be wrong; James had said they would be together always and now he had told her he wanted to marry her. It did not matter that he was not as rich as she had first thought, they would make money with his scheme. Eventually perhaps they could buy a larger property and start up a real boarding house.
He heaved above her and she held her breath; she had never liked it, the way a man could take her and possess her body. It had always seemed like a violation to Lily but it was what men did and she just had to put up with it if she wanted the protection of a man. And yet somehow as she felt him close, his skin soft, the scent of him sweet, she felt a kindling of something that might be the stirrings of desire. Perhaps James was the man she had always needed to waken her passions. Slowly, her arms crept around his neck. She closed her eyes and held him close. He was wonderful, her love, she would never let him go.
All too soon, he flopped back on the bed beside her, his chest heaving. She had experienced three men: Saul, her first lover, her husband, an old man, and now James. James was different; with James she had found real love.
Lily thought of Polly, her old friend who she had not seen for a long time, the friend she had left behind in Swansea. Polly had liked lying with a man, had revelled in it, said she needed it like she needed water, to live. But to Lily the act had always been a tiresome chore to be got over as quickly as possible. But not now. Now she felt warm and cherished, aroused for the first time in her life.
She felt James slip his hand along her stomach and tensed with excitement. He took her the second time with a gentleness that moved her. She cried a few tears as he whispered sweet words to her. He caught her nipple in his mouth and she tangled her fingers in the softness of his hair.
When he fell away from her she sighed with pleasure. James was kind and gentle and his touch pleased her.
He fell asleep almost immediately; in that he was no different from any other man. He lay beside her breathing evenly and, after a while, Lily curved into him enjoying the warmth of his body and, eventually, she too slept.
When she woke, James was gone. Betty was in the kitchen, her eyes downcast. ‘The master’s gone out,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘He’s gone somewhere on business. I don’t know where.’
‘Why should you know where?’ Lily demanded. ‘The whereabouts of Mr Wesley has nothing at all to do with you, do you understand?’
‘Yes, miss.’ Betty glanced up at last and there seemed to be something like pity in her pale eyes. ‘Want some hot milk, miss?’
Lily sank down at the kitchen table. ‘I’ll have some tea,’ she said. The tea in the box was almost gone; it was an expensive item and one they might not be able to afford much longer. Still, it was as much her tea as James’s and if she wanted it she would have it.
After breakfast, Lily asked Betty to boil up water for a bath. She felt unclean, as though she still had the smell of James about her.
Tonight, she would tell him in no uncertain terms that there would be no more creeping into her bed until they were safely married. He would respect her much more if she showed a proper modesty. While she soaped herself and let the hot water run over her body, she wondered if James would teach her to find fulfilment in lovemaking. She closed her eyes for a moment, wanting only to rest. But she had a meal to prepare, the table to set, wine to decant and, then, she would need to make herself look pleasant and charming to greet James’s paying guests. With a sigh, she climbed out of the bath and began to dry herself.
Llinos watched as Joe talked with his son. They sat together and conversed like old men.
‘The whooping cough is gone now, Father. Soon Eira will be able to take me out walking again. You can come with us if you like.’ He sounded like a wise old sage and Llinos tugged at his hair and laughed.
‘Your grandad will never be dead while you are alive, do you know that, Lloyd? When I named you after him I couldn’t have chosen better. You are the spitting image of him.’
‘I know, Mamma,’ he said, ‘you’ve told me that before, remember?’ He looked out of the window. ‘What time is Uncle Eynon coming over? I’m starving.’
‘When are you ever any different?’ Llinos said. ‘And for your information when Eynon does arrive he’ll have Jayne with him, so on your best behaviour please.’
‘Oh no!’ Lloyd had the small boy’s antipathy to little girls. That would change when he was older Llinos thought, watching him lovingly.
‘Here he is!’ Lloyd said excitedly. ‘Can I go to meet him, Father?’
Joe looked at Llinos and shrugged. ‘I suppose so though we all know you’re after the gifts Uncle Eynon insists on bringing you, you little scamp.’
Eynon brought the coldness of the outdoors into the sitting room with him. He smiled at Joe and kissed Llinos lightly on both cheeks. He handed Lloyd a well-wrapped parcel and then gave Llinos a tiny box. ‘For my best girl,’ he said.
‘You’re very kind, Eynon. Where’s Jayne? She’s not sick is she?’
‘No, she’s not sick, thank God,’ Eynon said. ‘She’s gone out with Mrs Sparks today, the dear lady has no children of her own and she took Jayne for company when she went shopping. She intends to bring her back to me later tonight.’
He spoke innocently but Llinos could tell by the gleam in his eyes that he was holding back a grin.
She unwrapped her gift; it was a jewel box painted with birds and flowers.
‘It’s lovely, Eynon! Thank you.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘And how is Mrs Sparks and that dear husband of hers?’ Without waiting for an answer Llinos spoke again. ‘I still can’t get over Mr Sparks’s cheek in deciding I should sell the pottery.’ She shook her head. ‘The man is an arrogant fool.’
‘I wonder where he got the idea you were going to sell?’ Eynon said. ‘I imagine someone with influence offered him a reward if he could persuade you to part with your business. That’s the sort of man he is, always eager to take a bribe.’
‘You could be right, he was so angry when I told him I had no intention of selling. I don’t know the man very well and I wouldn’t care to know him better!’
‘I think Mrs Sparks shares your dislike of the man,’ Eynon said quietly, glancing at Lloyd who had opened his parcel and was pulling the strings, quite efficiently, of the marionette Eynon had bought him.
‘Then it’s lucky she enjoys your company so very much,’ Llinos said dryly. ‘But, as I said, beware of that man, he may not be as much of a chicken heart as he looks.’
‘Hey, you two!’ Joe said. ‘Stop gossiping! And you, Lloyd, isn’t it time you were getting ready for bed?’
Later when Lloyd had left them, the conversation became desultory, not to say a little strained. And Llinos could not think why. She was relieved when the bell rang to announce that dinner was served.
They dined on a simple meal of rabbit pie, crusty bread and roast potatoes followed by a treacle pudding.
‘That was wonderful,’ Eynon said. ‘My friend Martin would give his eye teeth to eat a meal like that.’
‘How is Martin?’ Llinos asked. ‘I’ve heard a great deal about how brave he was visiting the sick.’
‘It’s true, I’m proud of him,’ Eynon said. ‘I don’t think I could have done so well had I been in his shoes.’
Llinos got to her feet. ‘Let’s go into the drawing room, shall we?’
She was content to listen to the two men talk and she sank back in her chair, closing her eyes. Joe did not seem like his old self, he had changed since he came back from America. But then he had lost his mother; it had been a sad time for him. Perhaps she should just count her blessings and be happy because Joe was here, in Britain, in Pottery House, sitting only a few feet away from her.
The two men James brought to the house were well dressed and well mannered. By the look of their clothes, both were very wealthy. Lily took in the good cut of coat and trousers and the strong leather boots and smiled her most charming smile.
‘This is Lily,’ James said. ‘Lily, meet Conrad and Clifford.’ He put his hand on Lily’s shoulder and his fingers were warm on her skin. She felt exposed in her low-cut gown and saw that the eyes of both men were drawn to the shadow between her breasts.
‘We do not stand on ceremony here,’ James was saying as he led the way into the small dining room. ‘Please, gentlemen, make yourselves at home.’
Betty carried in the tureen and ladled mutton broth into bowls. The smell rose invitingly and the two men began to eat with relish, Conrad dipping his bread into his bowl and sucking at it eagerly.
‘You are an excellent cook, Lily,’ Conrad said, soup dribbling unchecked down his chin. Lily averted her eyes.
‘Thank you, Conrad, but I did have a little help.’
‘Don’t listen to her!’ James said. ‘She is the finest cook a man could ever wish to meet and quite a game little filly into the bargain.’
The men laughed and Lily felt uncomfortable. She glared at James, angry with him for being so crude especially in earshot of such fine gentlemen. Her eyes were drawn to the gold ring set with a large diamond that sparkled on Clifford’s thin fingers. He was the smaller of the two men, his face a little gaunt to be called handsome but he had deep blue eyes that met Lily’s whenever she glanced at him.
Conrad on the other hand was well built, his breeches stretched over his round stomach. He had a red, rather jolly face and a ready smile. Of the two of them, she preferred Conrad. Not that she needed to like either of the men, they were being entertained to supper, given a bed for the night and then, presumably, they would be off on their travels in the morning.
The beef was served and it sizzled with heat on the platter. Whole onions surrounded the joint and small roast potatoes and a garnish of herbs offset the smallness of the joint, the smell making the mouth water.
The wine flowed freely and Lily wondered how much the men were paying. It would have to be a great deal to cover the expense of the meat and the drink.
The pudding was steamed to perfection, the honey running over the sides melting into a golden glow.
‘You have fallen on your feet with this little lady,’ Conrad said, wiping his mouth on the napkin. Lily groaned inwardly; there would be a great deal of boiling of table linen tomorrow but, then, Betty could see to all that.
When the debris of the meal lay spread about the table, James replenished the wine glasses yet again and nodded in Lily’s direction.
‘Go along, Lily, we gentlemen wish to smoke, remember your manners now.’ He slid an arm around her waist as, embarrassed at his tone, she rose abruptly. His hand tightened as she would have wriggled free.
He ran his other hand along her hip and let it rest for a moment on the curve of her buttocks. ‘Go along then.’ He released his grip. ‘Go upstairs, I’ll come to you when I need you.’
As Lily went into the bedroom, she wondered at James’s parting words. What did he mean about needing her? Was he letting her know in advance that he wanted to come to her bed again? She sighed inwardly; she had wanted to hold him at bay, to make him more eager for marriage. But if entertaining was James’s only idea of making money, they could never afford to get married; she felt they would make little or no profit out of his scheme. She had been well looked after by her late husband and had grown accustomed to depending on him for everything. James however seemed to have no head for business at all.
She was practically asleep when she heard the sound of ribald laughter from the hallway. Heavy feet stomped up the stairs and Lily held her breath, expecting James to come into her room at any moment. She was not mistaken.
‘Ah, Lily, let’s get some more light in here.’ He lit the candles he had carried upstairs and, behind him, Conrad and Clifford stared at her as if she were another delicious morsel to be picked up and eaten. Lily drew the covers up to her chin.
The men crowded into the small room and Lily stared at them, waiting for James to bid them goodnight. He did no such thing.
‘You see, gentlemen, she is as beautiful in bed as I promised you she would be.’ He turned to wave his hand expansively. ‘She is a lovely mistress, I can vouch for that. Now, which one of you gentlemen will go first?’
Lily stared at James in horror. She saw all too clearly now how he intended to make his money. He wanted to sell her to whatever man would pay for her. She felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment that was quickly followed by a rush of anger. How dare he treat her like a whore? But she must keep her temper; she realized she would have to think fast. She would never have the strength to fight the men off; she would have to use cunning if she was to get out of this situation with her pride intact.
‘I’m sorry, James, I can’t accommodate you tonight,’ she said gloomily. ‘My curses have come and I am in so much pain and discomfort that I dare not even move an inch. No-one would wish to share a bed with me now, you understand?’
‘Hell and damnation, James, this is a fine kettle of fish,’ Conrad said.
James hesitated and for a moment Lily thought he would tear aside the sheets. Bile rose to her throat but she forced herself to speak. ‘Oh good heavens here come the pains again and the flooding. I am going to be in a dreadful state by morning.’
‘We’ll go to the village,’ James said. ‘All is not lost, gentlemen, I know some very willing ladies who will not be indisposed.’ He
glared at Lily before leaving the room and she lay quite still until the house fell silent.
Carefully she edged out of bed and dressed in her warmest clothes. Swiftly, in the light of the dying candles, she pushed her few possessions into a bag.
Her heart was in her mouth as she crept into the bedroom where the two guests had left their travelling bags. Silently, she took all the money she could find and pushed it into her bag.
Downstairs, Betty was sitting in the kitchen. ‘Oh God, miss, I thought they had killed you!’ she gasped. ‘I hid in the garden until they went away. I knew what they was after, see.’
‘Come on,’ Lily said, ‘we’d better get out of here as quickly as we can.’
Outside the cottage, Lily took stock of the situation. The two men had arrived in an open carriage but Lily doubted that she and Betty could harness the horses without any help.
‘We’ll ride,’ she whispered. ‘Get the saddles, Betty.’
Guiding the horses over the grasslands leading from the house, Lily held her breath as though afraid, even now, that James would catch her and drag her back to the cottage that had once been her home. She would never forgive him for what he had tried to do tonight.
She glanced back and saw the glow of flames rising from the roof of the cottage. ‘The place is on fire!’ she said.
‘I did it, miss,’ Betty said. ‘That place belonged to old Tom, not to that young upstart. Why should we leave it all for him to live in?’
‘Well done, Betty!’ Lily said jubilantly. ‘Now James will have nothing at all.’
Once away from the house, the two women began to ride swiftly. Betty brought her horse as close as she dared to the mount Lily was riding.
‘We’ll be branded thieves for this, you know that don’t you?’ she said breathlessly.
‘I don’t think so!’ Lily shouted over the beat of hooves. ‘Those fine gentlemen probably have wives. We could do them more harm than they could ever do us. Forget them, Betty, we’re free.’
Although her body felt on fire and her head ached as though a hammer beat inside it, Lily was exultant. She had money in her pocket and she was going home.
