The Silk Merchant's Convenient Wife

by Elisabeth Hobbes

  He looked mollified and his own face became less forbidding. He had looked so angry when he appeared that it had startled her. She was glad to see his gentle expression returning.

  ‘You didn’t have to dismiss that man,’ she said. ‘He was rude, but he did nothing to harm me and now he has lost his livelihood. It seems vindictive.’

  ‘Vindictive?’

  Jonathan raised his eyebrows. He ran his hand over his hair, pushing it out of the way. It flopped forward immediately again and Aurelia wanted to twist her fingers into the locks and see if she could make them behave.

  ‘You didn’t have to make him wade across the river.’

  ‘His behaviour was boorish and uncouth,’ Jonathan said. ‘Now I hope he’ll think twice before repeating it. As for dismissing him, I do not want men like that working for me when there are plenty of others who deserve employment. Now do you understand why I told you to stay away from the mill?’

  Aurelia nodded. ‘It’s my fault he lost his job,’ she said quietly.

  Jonathan put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  ‘Mrs Harcourt, don’t think for a moment that you are to blame,’ Jonathan said earnestly. ‘I don’t hold you responsible. It was his fault. He chose how to speak to you and he paid the consequences.’

  His hands were heavy on her shoulders; warm and reassuring. She felt instantly comforted by his mere presence. Her saviour. Her husband. She reached up and covered his hand with hers, not wanting him to stop touching her. He stepped a little closer. Aurelia thought for one startling moment that he was going to kiss her, because he leaned in with his head slightly on one side, staring intently into her eyes. Her whole body tingled with excitement. She realised how much she had missed his company at night. Missed what they did together.

  Missed him.

  Three nights had passed since he had knocked on her door and she had had to send him away. He had made no further reference to her condition, nor did he attempt to visit her bedroom. Aurelia assumed delicacy towards her feelings had prevented him from asking when he might begin again and she wondered how long he would assume she was unavailable. Three nights since the excruciating admission of why she was refusing to fulfil her part of their bargain. Even though they had both agreed that intimacy was to be kept to the bedroom, she tilted her head back and waited for his kiss.

  It never came.

  Aurelia bit down the disappointment that she unaccountably felt. ‘I still feel responsible. He has lost his job because he was unfortunate enough to be rude to your wife.’

  ‘It isn’t because you are my wife,’ Jonathan said. He lowered his hands and stepped back. ‘It was because of his behaviour. I would have done the same if he had spoken like that to any of my female workers, or any lady of my acquaintance.’

  Aurelia blinked, not sure whether she was being insulted by his comparison of her to any of his workers. While she was pondering it Jonathan held out his arm for her to take. ‘Let me take you back to your father, where I know you will be safe until I return to get you later.’

  Aurelia was about to protest that she could make her own way to Siddon Hall and to her own home, but then changed her mind. Some company would be nice and Jonathan always talked sense.

  She took his arm and was taken aback when he did not hold it at a right angle for her to rest hers on, but linked it right through and drew her closer to him than usual. He was warm and smelled faintly of mud and perspiration. It was unfamiliar but far from unpleasant and Aurelia wondered if he had been digging, too. She eased her body against his side, imagining the supple muscles of his arms and chest tightening as he toiled.

  ‘Was your visit with your family difficult?’ Jonathan asked. ‘It seems an hour should be tolerable without you having to escape with this disobedient boy.’

  Aurelia grinned.

  ‘My mother was as she always is, with the added concern that now she has a married daughter and her mind is turning to her future role. She was trying in her subtlest ways to find out if I was already with child,’ she said.

  She blushed furiously. She had neither confirmed nor denied it, claiming the excuse of Jonathan’s wish for discretion. She placed her hand over her belly briefly. Jonathan’s eyes followed, settling on her.

  ‘Our poor child, when you do conceive it, will bear such a weight of expectations,’ he remarked.

  ‘What if I am barren?’ Aurelia said. ‘What if you married me for no reason?’

  Jonathan took her hand. She stiffened, startled, but then eased and left her hand in his.

  ‘It will happen,’ he said. ‘Don’t fear. We have barely begun to try.’

  Aurelia bunched her fingers around Caesar’s leash.

  ‘What would you call the boy when he’s born?’ Jonathan asked.

  ‘Don’t you want to call him Jonathan?’ she asked. All fathers wanted sons to bear their names, didn’t they? She remembered the two boys born to Lady Upford. Poor pale scraps, neither of whom had lived past their first year and who both resided under small stones bearing the name Robert after their father. She wasn’t particularly superstitious, but Robert was definitely not to be suggested.

  ‘I’m not so vain,’ Jonathan said.

  ‘What about your father’s name?’ Aurelia asked.

  Jonathan’s arm tightened.

  ‘No. It is enough that the child will bear our surname. What of the classical world?’ he asked, brightening slightly. ‘Your father clearly has a passion for all things ancient to have named you and your sisters and his dogs in tribute to Rome or Greece. Would you not want to continue that yourself? I’m sure he would offer you some suggestions’

  Aurelia smiled to herself. She had no need to ask her father. She could produce a whole list of Greek heroes without help if Jonathan so wished and in the original alphabet.

  ‘I think my father’s love of all things classical is not as intellectual as you assume.’

  She thought back to the plates and illustrations of vases in Sir Robert’s books. Aurelia and Cassandra had once crept into his study and examined the volumes curiously and what Aurelia had seen remained branded on her mind. To think of men and women lying or standing in such postures and doing such things to each other! Some of them seemed physically impossible. Others morally so. She glanced surreptitiously at Jonathan and as his eyes flickered to hers Aurelia realised he was trying not to grin. He knew what she was referring to and for a brief moment they shared their amusement. Her throat grew hot at the thought of them conducting themselves in such a manner and the heat spread over and inside her like a pot of ink spilled across a desk.

  There was no reason for him to shun her bed any longer. She wanted those arms about her again. She wanted that chest pressing against her breasts. She wanted all of him. The spark of hunger and snatched taste of that indefinable something that had eluded her was shuddering awake. She might have sighed, because he stopped walking and peered into her face, brow furrowed in concern.

  ‘You aren’t too distressed by what happened anymore, are you?’ he asked.

  She felt like a child caught guiltily with a hand in the cake tin. She couldn’t explain what she had been thinking of, not to him. She shook her head.

  ‘No, though I’m glad you appeared when you did. I don’t know what would have happened otherwise, or how I would have got Caesar back.’

  Jonathan grunted. Aurelia glanced up at him. The muscles in his neck were tight and his expression was as severe as it had been when he had confronted his worker. She realised his anger wasn’t directed at her, but at the memory of what had happened. He untangled his arm from hers and slipped it around her waist. He’d never done that before. Always they had walked arm in arm or side by side. It did nothing to satisfy that longing for his touch.

  ‘I almost didn’t visit the site today,’ he said. ‘I have a stack of ledgers to inspect, bu
t when Edward decided to leave with the excuse of supervising his cook for this evening I decided the bookkeeping could go hang!’

  They smiled at each other. The incident had broken the ice between them and Aurelia found she was enjoying Jonathan’s company. They began walking again and Jonathan once again put his arm around Aurelia’s waist.

  ‘Have you remembered we are dining with Edward tonight?’ Jonathan asked. ‘He’s very much looking forward to beginning your campaign of socialising me.’

  Aurelia smiled gently. ‘I’m afraid he will find me sadly behind if that is the case. I have no intention of interfering in your life.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Jonathan said. The humour in his eyes vanished as quickly as it had previously returned. Aurelia bit her tongue. She had meant it as a joke, but it had been her wish to know more about his life that caused their argument.

  ‘Tell me about Mr Langdon,’ she asked quickly. ‘I’ve only met him briefly.’

  ‘You will meet him properly tonight,’ Jonathan said, ‘and one thing I know about Edward is that he will happily tell you anything you wish to know, probably a great deal more than you might wish if you aren’t careful.’

  This was the first time since he had refused her request to visit the mill that she had shown interest in speaking to him about more than purely household matters and she expected him to stop there, but instead he stared over the river at the mill grounds.

  ‘Edward has been the greatest friend a man could hope for. He saw promise in me from a young age and it is thanks to him that I am in the position I am now. He knew my mother at some point in her youth. He was five or six years older than she was.’

  He stared off past Aurelia as he spoke. She waited for him to continue, sensing he had not finished, but was gathering his thoughts. He had told her one night of how he came to be living in Macclesfield. How his mother had been made destitute and cast out of their family home by a distant relative when his father had died intestate. How they were forced to move halfway across England to take the charity offered by Edward Langdon. It was no wonder he was so attached to his partner.

  ‘When I was younger I wondered if Edward and my mother had been fond of each other, but she married my father instead. I thought his previous affection might have been the reason he offered us help, but I never liked to ask.’

  He looked back at Aurelia with a solemn face. Her heart fluttered for poor Edward, lovelorn for a woman he could never have. ‘If that had been the case, don’t you think they may have reunited once your mother was widowed?’ she asked. ‘They were older, but if you had a second chance at happiness, wouldn’t you take it?’

  Jonathan looked away once more and once again his throat tightened. Aurelia wondered if he was aware of the visible sign that appeared whenever something troubled him. She certainly had no intention of telling him, useful as it was in discerning his moods.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘There could have been other barriers. Perhaps love only comes once and when it is missed it is too late to chase after it. People change, feelings lessen.’

  ‘I imagine he did his best to help them on their way,’ Aurelia said quietly. ‘Don’t you think it would be better to do that than live yearning for something you could never hope to have?’

  Sorrow placed its hands on her shoulders like an unwanted caress. She had not noticed its absence until it returned at the thought of lost love pining after something it was denied. After discovering Arthur’s dreadful betrayal, she had believed her destiny was to remain unwed. She had been so easily tricked into loving him, when he had known from the start there was an insurmountable barrier between them. Even though her marriage was only a business arrangement, Jonathan was a pleasant diversion and time in his company had caused that ache to lessen. Life with Jonathan would never have the all-consuming ecstasy of the love she had felt for Arthur and that was safer. It was a tolerable substitute for spinsterhood under her father’s roof and she knew she had made the right decision.

  The roof in question came into view. They had walked slowly, but had reached the gates.

  ‘You can leave me here if you wish,’ Aurelia said.

  ‘I’ll take you all the way,’ Jonathan said. He walked her as far as the gravel pathway in front of the main entrance before releasing her from his arms. ‘You look presentable enough to return to your mother.’

  He reached his hand out and brushed her cheek with his thumb, leaving a trail of heat that made her tremble with desire. He tilted his head to the left and smiled. ‘Perhaps I was a little angrier with him because it was you,’ he said.

  He turned and strode away before Aurelia could think how to respond.

  Chapter Eleven

  The odd confrontation seemed to have brought a change in the relationship between Jonathan and his wife. Until they met at the riverside he had been worried that the mood between them would affect the atmosphere at dinner with Edward, but their encounter and the chance to walk together had allayed those fears. That they had been replaced by other fears was something he did not want to dwell on too deeply. What if he had not arrived? Aurelia might have been harmed. She was at liberty to do what she liked with her days and Jonathan would never dream of confining her to the house, but he would have no idea where she was, whether she was in danger or distressed. Now he felt protective of her and the responsibility caused him more anxiety than he had believed possible.

  He had been sitting with a cup of tea by the fire, but when she entered, wearing a gown suitable for an evening dining engagement, he could not resist leaping to his feet to greet her. Her shoulders were bare and her hair was piled high tonight, a mass of brown curls that seemed suspended with no visible support aside from a wide mother-of-pearl comb that sat at the back. Jonathan’s fingers twitched at the thought of plucking it from her hair and discovering if the whole edifice would come tumbling down. She was not dressed extravagantly or immodestly—Jonathan had seen plenty of women with more of their bosom on display at dinner—but the effect of the off-the-shoulder gown and swept-up hair was to reveal much more bare skin than usual. Other small details on her indigo-silk dress drew his attention to her figure. He couldn’t help but imagine what lay beneath the frothy edging of lace above her breasts and the bows that darted down her spine to an impossibly small waist above the dome of her skirt.

  His blood raced hot with desire and the stiff collar and necktie seemed to tighten, cutting off his ability to speak or breathe.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ he murmured, unable to keep the admiration from his voice.

  She gave him a cautious smile as if she believed he was lying, but it was warmer than any she had bestowed upon him since he had refused her request. She adjusted her sleeves, then checked her earrings—a pair of large pearls set in clasps of silver that dangled playfully on to her neck—were firmly fixed in her ears.

  She had perfect ears, Jonathan decided as he watched her fingers nimbly toy with the ornament. Usually she wore her hair over them, but now he could see the lobes were pulled down by the weight of the pearl drops he had the urge to kiss them. To run his tongue from the shadowed spot on her neck where wisps of downy hair drifted free of her knot. To drag his lip down the curve of her neck until it met her collarbone. To...

  He coughed, conscious of the erotic thoughts he was enacting while she stood waiting by the hearth, completely unaware.

  ‘Would you like some tea?’ he asked.

  ‘If we have time, thank you.’

  Jonathan poured her a cup and took it to her. He held it out, but kept his arm crooked and close enough to himself that when she took the saucer, their hands were almost touching. He gazed into her eyes and she looked back, neither of them paying attention to the cup they both clasped. When they’d danced together on their wedding day, he’d felt less attraction than he did at this moment. What would she do if he took her in his arms and began to waltz her around the
room?

  He didn’t, of course. She would think he had lost his mind. He contented himself by watching her lips on the rim of the cup as she drank and tried his best not to imagine his lips in place of the fine china.

  ‘Would you mind if we walked to Edward’s house?’ he asked. ‘It’s only a short walk and the evening is fine so I thought we could go on foot as I know you enjoy walking. Or are you tired from earlier?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said, lifting her chin and giving him a determined look. ‘I can walk for miles without tiring.’

  ‘In that case, let’s be off.’

  Jonathan summoned his valet to bring his overcoat and Aurelia’s cape. He passed it around her shoulders himself and as he fastened the silver pin at the neck his fingers brushed against her bare skin. That close, the scent of her perfume made his senses tingle. It reminded him of candied violets and he wanted to kiss her throat to see if it tasted the same.

  His pulse quickened and their eyes met again. He saw a spark of interest in her eyes and became truly aware, perhaps for the first time, that his wife did not find him unpleasant. He resolved that tonight he would visit her room once more.

  * * *

  Dinner was excellent, as it always was when Edward entertained. He seemed in good spirits and insisted that no mention should be made of the mill or business of any kind. Instead they talked of art and music. Aurelia and Edward discovered a shared enjoyment of the poet Shelley and Jonathan—who personally preferred Keats—was content to watch them bicker over whether Frankenstein would have been written if the weather in Switzerland had been more temperate. Aurelia argued her case intelligently and Jonathan was transfixed by the way her expression grew serious.