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Poppy's Dilemma

Page 43

by Nancy Carson


  A shaft of sunlight suddenly fell on Ridley’s desk as the sun slid from behind a cloud. It rendered visible tiny motes of dust that hung suspended in its slanting path.

  ‘If …’ Ridley said, and immediately his tone was conciliatory. ‘If I agree … If I place no obstacle in the way of you marrying your Poppy Silk eventually …’

  ‘Eventually?’ Robert queried.

  ‘Yes, eventually … Would you agree to postpone that marriage to a later date? Would you agree to postpone telling Virginia and her family that you wish to be released from your promise?’

  ‘Until Tyler’s and Lord’s have agreed in writing the facility to overdraw on Crawford’s account, you mean?’

  ‘Broadly, yes, that’s what I mean.’

  ‘Isn’t that bordering on the dishonest, Father?’

  ‘Not entirely. If I swear that I knew nothing of your intention to marry another woman …’

  ‘I was thinking also in terms of my dishonesty towards Virginia. I presume I would have to maintain the charade that we were to get married until the last. She’s expecting it to be Christmas Day, remember.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ridley said. ‘I remember. When did you hope to marry Poppy Silk?’

  ‘We have not discussed a date.’

  ‘Then that at least simplifies the matter.’

  ‘It might simplify it for you, but not for me.’

  ‘You need only call on Virginia once a week to maintain the illusion, Robert. On a Sunday, say. Go for dinner. When she’s keen to go to church be seen there with her …’

  ‘In the meantime, I have to deceive poor Poppy as well. I wouldn’t wish to lose Poppy because of it.’

  ‘Then explain it to her. She’s not unintelligent as I recall. She’ll understand.’

  ‘I hope she does … All right, Father … I will accommodate you. But I will expect some consideration in return … the freedom to do as I wish with my career. I shall expect no opposition either from you, from Mother, or anybody else when Poppy and I eventually announce our engagement.’

  ‘Fine. It is agreed. Shall we shake hands on it, my son?’

  They shook hands.

  That evening, Robert worked on his surveying reports till late. It was hard going; his head was full of the discussion with his father and the disappointment of not having resolved the issue of his engagement to Virginia. So, he must continue to pay her court, and to allow her to think he was still in love with her. It would be cruel, and it was totally against his nature to deceive, but he had agreed to do it rather than thrust Crawford and Sons into financial jeopardy. He hoped with all his heart that Poppy would understand.

  Poppy … Sweet, sweet Poppy …

  His mind meandered once again to their lovemaking the previous night and he felt a potent stirring inside his trousers. He looked at the clock. It was ten minutes past midnight. The house was quiet. Bellamy had returned two hours ago. Everybody, including the servants, had retired to bed. He closed the notebook in which he was writing, put down his pen and stood up. His legs ached from too much sitting in one position. He would take a walk. Yes, he felt the need to stretch his legs, to get some fresh air in his lungs. Last night’s rain had cleared up; it had been a pleasant day. It would be a pleasant night. It was August, after all. So, without even picking up his hat, he let himself out quietly by the front door and walked on the grass – to save the crunching gravel of the drive announcing his unanticipated outing.

  At Dixons Green Road he turned left. He seemed drawn that way, like a moth is drawn to a burning lamp. It was only because Cawneybank House lay in that direction. At the toll house, he took the right fork, then the left one which, of course, took him right to the front gate of Aunt Phoebe’s house.

  There, he loitered. The house was in darkness. Nothing stirred but the leaves sighing in sympathy in the treetops. What was he doing here? What purpose did he hope to achieve? He wondered whether Poppy was asleep. He longed to be lying with her in her bed, to feel her firm young body next to his, to stroke her silky smooth skin, to taste her lips …

  He stepped onto the grass, again avoiding the gravel … except to stoop down and gather up a few sharp pieces in his hand. He was certain the other room on the front, the one that didn’t have a light in it last night, was Poppy’s. He approached the house beneath his target window and carefully aimed a piece of gravel at it. It clattered on the windowpane and fell back silently to the grass. He tossed another … and another … In the darkness he could just make out the slit that appeared in the curtains … the shape of an indistinct face …

  He stepped away from the house, to the middle of the lawn, and waved his arms about like a lunatic, then waited.

  A slight figure draped in white, like an ethereal eidolon, appeared from the side of the house.

  ‘Robert?’

  ‘Poppy!’ He hurried towards her and she took his hand, pulling him into the more complete darkness at the side of the house where they would not be seen.

  ‘What are you doing here at this time of night?’ She could hear his breathing, as fast as if he’d been running.

  ‘You gave me your permission to call on you,’ he answered glibly.

  ‘At this time?’

  ‘I’ve missed you, Poppy. God, I’ve been longing for you.’ He took her in his arms and felt her skin, warm and soft and inviting beneath her nightgown. ‘I couldn’t get you off my mind. I had to come, in the hope that I might see you.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she breathed, her heart jumping as if she’d tripped coming down the stairs. ‘I was thinking about you as well … about last night. I haven’t stopped thinking about us all day.’

  He felt her shiver in his arms as the cool night air penetrated through that single layer of cotton. ‘You’re cold, my love.’

  She nodded against his chest. ‘But I’m warm inside now I’m with you.’

  ‘Kiss me.’

  She tilted her head, offering her lips, and they kissed … a long, lingering kiss that inflamed their mutual desire.

  ‘Let’s go to the summer house,’ he suggested. ‘You’ll be warmer there.’

  ‘Quiet, then …’ she answered biddably.

  With the stealth and purpose of a rutting stag with his doe, they crossed the lawn at the rear of the house. An owl hooted; only he had eyes wide enough and round enough to witness this secret meeting in the darkness. The door to the summer house creaked again as Poppy opened it and she swore to herself that she must find an oilcan and oil the hinges tomorrow. She wouldn’t have the nerve to request it of Clay lest he asked her why. In the safety of concealment, they fell into another embrace, more passionate, and he lifted handfuls of nightgown and ran his hands hungrily over the bare flesh of her small round buttocks, drawing her to him. She felt him hard against her and with nervous, shaking hands, undid the buttons of his trousers, thrust her hand inside, and held him, tenderly stroking.

  ‘Let’s put the cushions on the floor again,’ she said eventually. ‘It’s so much nicer if we lie down.’

  Without shame or inhibition, she pulled her nightgown over her head and lay naked on the cushions, while it took him a few moments to undress. He lay beside her and she nudged herself under him and shivered with pleasure as he rolled onto her. Both were panting like hounds after a run. Her hands gripped his buttocks, pulling him into her, and she sighed with little whimpers of pleasure as they settled into an easy rhythm that belied their inexperience. Before long, the indescribable sensations became mesmerising, growing and growing inexorably into a crisis of ecstasy that had them both gasping.

  They lay in silence for a while, still gaining familiarity with each other’s bodies as their hands affectionately roamed cooling skin.

  ‘I had a word with my father today,’ he whispered as they rested afterwards. ‘I told him about you, that I wished to call off my engagement to Virginia.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘There is a slight problem, Poppy …’ He explained about the financing of the sewers proj
ect and how it radically affected the timing of his breaking the news to Virginia. ‘It means that from time to time I shall have to see her, just to maintain the illusion that everything is all right between her and me. Of course, it will mean nothing. But for the sake of my family …’

  ‘But that’s not fair on her,’ Poppy said typically. ‘Will she have to wait till what she believes is the eve of her wedding before you can tell her?’

  ‘I hope I can tell her sooner than that.’

  ‘I hope so too, Robert.’

  ‘Even so, I’m glad you understand. It’s such a load off my mind.’

  ‘Yes, I do understand … Maybe you should count your blessings that I do.’

  ‘Oh, I do.’

  They lay unspeaking again for a while, still in each other’s arms.

  ‘Bellamy called earlier.’

  ‘Oh? What did he want?’

  ‘He asked me to marry him.’

  Robert sat upright in indignant astonishment. ‘He what? What did you tell him?’

  ‘That I’d think about it …’

  ‘Seriously? Are you serious?’

  ‘Serious that he asked, or serious that I said I’d think about it?’ There was a tormenting catch in her voice.

  ‘Well, both …’ He tried to read her face in the darkness, tried to catch something in her tone that would define whether she was teasing or not.

  ‘Oh, he asked all right,’ she said evenly. ‘He was in earnest.’

  ‘And your reply?’

  ‘Yes, I was in earnest too.’

  ‘You honestly told him you’d think about it? As if you might consent?’

  ‘Why not? You are still engaged, Robert. Why shouldn’t I be? It’ll put our affaire on a more equal footing.’

  ‘You are a complete strumpet, Poppy Silk. You realise the trouble this will cause …’

  Chapter 30

  Poppy would never deny to Robert that she was considering Bellamy’s offer of marriage as long as he remained engaged to Virginia. His jealousy, his knowledge and belief in the existence of a rival were her only insurance that when the time was right, he would extricate himself in the greatest hurry from his promise to marry Virginia. So, for the sake of appearances, their affair remained clandestine, and grew more intense because of it. Robert’s first nocturnal visit and their repairing to the summer house had, of course, already shaped the form of their secret meetings. Aunt Phoebe had no idea as to the physical extent of their involvement, but both Dolly and Esther thought it strange that small muddy footprints should some mornings have appeared on the tiles by the back door, obviously left after they had gone to bed the night before.

  ‘So do you still intend to see Bellamy?’ Robert asked, gathering her close into his warm embrace as they lay on the cushions again one such night, soon after he had sprung the shock of having to deceive Virginia a while longer.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ she answered with some defiance. ‘You continue to see Virginia.’

  ‘I feel you are holding a gun to my head, Poppy, my love, when there truly is no need.’ He stroked her soft cheek with the back of his forefinger. ‘And encouraging Bellamy won’t make things any easier when my break with Virginia becomes official and generally recognised. I shall also have an estranged brother to contend with. Don’t you see?’

  ‘I didn’t say I was encouraging him. We talk, usually with Aunt Phoebe close at hand, except for the odd times he’s taken me for a drive. It’s all very proper, Robert. We don’t get up to the shenanigans you and I do.’

  ‘I should hope not indeed.’ A frown furrowed his brow. ‘All the same, he has designs on you.’

  ‘And I’m flattered.’ She turned over to lie on her belly and propped herself up on her elbows to look into his eyes. ‘If you do eventually decide it’s impossible to give up Virginia, I shall most likely consent to marry Bellamy. I’m quite sure that on our wedding night I could make him believe I was still a virgin.’ She chuckled saucily.

  ‘I’m sure that would be an excellent ploy if you could contrive it,’ Robert said with some surprise. ‘But Bellamy would be second best. You don’t love him. You know you don’t love him.’

  ‘Oh, and how do you know I wouldn’t grow to love him?’

  He sighed with frustration. ‘This isn’t fair, you know, Poppy.’ He was feeling threatened and very vulnerable. He turned onto his side, his head propped up on his elbow. He looked at her arched back, lissom and pale in the half-light, at the smooth curve of her small round buttocks that reminded him of a delicious peach. ‘My hands are tied and you know it,’ he went on. ‘I have to maintain the pretence that I’m still earnest about Virginia, so I can hardly question Bellamy about his intentions towards you. To do so … to demand that he withdraw in favour of me, would be to declare my own interest in you prematurely. He would be vindictive enough to report the fact to Virginia and so mess up everybody’s schemes.’

  Robert was thus thwarted by his inability to resolve anything. However, Poppy’s unstinting willingness to love and be loved, her intense passion, excited Robert and their affair blossomed beyond his wildest imaginings. As autumn set in, the chill of evening did not at first inhibit their sorties to the summer house on prearranged nights, where they made love with growing expertise and refinement. But it was not solely for these intimate sessions that he adored her. She was a soulmate. They laughed at the same things, they understood each other. Each got to know what the other was thinking without a word having to be said. In all, they were entirely comfortable with each other.

  Then, one bright day in November, Robert was waiting for Poppy as she left Baylies’s Charity School. She was not expecting him in the daytime, for he had just been reappointed engineer with Treadwell’s who, along with the contracting firm Peto’s, were about to recommence work on the Oxford, Worcester and Wolverhampton Railway, the problem of finance having been resolved at last. She did not see him at first, only the gig he used for travelling to work.

  ‘Poppy,’ he called. ‘Climb aboard, I have a surprise for you.’

  ‘Robert!’ She smiled with pleasure at seeing him. ‘You gave me quite a start.’

  ‘Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.’

  ‘What?’ she asked, approaching the gig.

  ‘I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise.’ He handed her up.

  ‘Oh, Robert, you can be so annoying sometimes,’ she said as she sat down beside him. ‘If you can’t tell me what it is, why did you say you have a surprise for me? It’s not logical.’

  ‘The place I’m taking you to is the surprise. That’s why I won’t tell you – it would spoil it.’

  ‘I think it’s just an excuse to abduct me and have your wicked way, now that it’s too cold at night to visit the summer house.’

  He smiled with amusement as he flicked the reins.

  ‘Where are you taking me? Tell me.’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  ‘Tell me how far then.’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  She thumped his arm playfully. ‘You’re so annoying. Can’t you at least tell me how far? I’m only worried that Aunt Phoebe will be expecting me back soon.’

  ‘Well, you’ll be late home today and that’s all there is to it.’ There was a look of smugness in his eyes, as if he would be admired for this outing. ‘We’re heading towards Brierley Hill and Stourbridge. That’s all I’m telling you.’

  As they left the confines of Dudley town, the road became more bumpy and the gig lurched and jolted.

  ‘I shall have bruises all over the cheeks of my bum at this rate,’ she said. ‘This bouncing about doesn’t befit a lady.’

  ‘Then I myself shall take great pleasure in massaging the cheeks of your said bum till they’re better, which will benefit you hardly at all but benefit me no end.’ They both laughed. ‘And yet, when I think of it, you enjoyed riding before you became a lady. Even on my two-wheeler. And you must’ve ridden a horse. Why should you cease to enjoy bouncing about just because y
ou purport to be a lady now?’

  ‘I don’t purport, Robert, whatever that means,’ she replied, feigning a haughtiness that thoroughly amused him. ‘I am a lady.’

  They drove on, past the vast smoke-belching iron works belonging to the Earl of Dudley, and through a small town that Robert announced as Brierley Hill. The road was level for a while, then descended. Eventually they turned right, off the high road.

  ‘Nearly there.’

  Poppy looked about on both sides and could see the chimney stacks of brickworks to her left, the red-brick cones of a bottle and glassworks to her right and, of course, the horse gins of the coal pits. There were a few houses, taverns, a chapel … She had no idea where she was. They drove on, chatting about all sorts of things but nothing in particular. Then, on a patch of waste ground she saw it.

  ‘A navvies’ encampment!’ she exclaimed, delighted. Her eyes beamed even brighter when she realised what this meant, and why Robert had kept it secret. ‘My mother … my sisters … my brothers … Are they here, Robert? Oh, please tell me they’re here.’

  He nodded, a broad grin on his face, elicited by witnessing her joy. ‘Yes, they’re here. I saw Buttercup yesterday and caught sight of your mother this morning.’

  ‘Quick, then. Let’s hurry …’

  Poppy jumped out of the gig and ran as fast as she could. Robert had difficulty keeping up with her, and she reached the encampment before him. There were few people living there as yet. At the periphery of the haphazard conglomeration, she stopped, turned and waited for him, breathless, eager anticipation lighting up her face.

  ‘Over here,’ he said.

  He led her towards one of the slapdash constructions of wood, tarpaulin and recently cemented-in bricks. The hut had a full complement of glass reinstalled in the windows, but how long that might last was questionable.

  ‘Should we knock?’ he suggested.

  Poppy tapped on the door excitedly … and waited …

 

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