White Water

by Pamela Oldfield

  Many times she had surprised Allan staring at the twins with an expression of deep remorse but she had made no comment. Frequently, however, she brought Martin’s name into the conversation, determined that his death should be regarded as any other and not locked away in Allan’s mind, to become a forbidden subject.

  Her relationship with Allan had slowly deepened and already there were moments of joy, the occasional spark of passion or a shared tenderness. Felicity was beginning to believe that their marriage would prove a happy one. Gradually she had seen the terrible darkness fade from Allan’s eyes and knew that he too felt the first stirrings of hope.

  It was time to wake him up, she decided, and slid her hand down over his body, smoothing the firm buttocks, reaching gently between his legs. Slowly, softly, she anticipated the growing excitement that would finally rouse his body from its dreaming state. He grunted softly, and stirred, rolling onto his back, so that she had to move out of his way. She ran her hand over his firm abdomen up and up to his chest, brushing the nipples lightly with her fingertips. He gasped and suddenly his eyes were wide open and he was staring at her in astonishment.

  ‘’Tis no dream, then!’ he whispered delightedly.

  ‘No dream, sweet Allan.’

  She leaned over and kissed his mouth and he pulled her down on top of him, trapping her, ignoring her protests.

  ‘I thought I dreamed,’ he said. ‘I was reluctant to waken and then … So my wife is a baggage!’

  He laughed as she tried to wriggle free. A log shifted and he noticed for the first time that the fire blazed.

  ‘So you have mended the fire, too!’ he teased. ‘This is a fine start to the day. Why do you try to pull free of my arms? You cannot wake me with such promises and then fight shy of me.’

  ‘I don’t fight shy,’ she protested, ‘but my strategy is not yet complete. Look there — at the foot of the bed.’

  He struggled to a sitting position and laughed aloud.

  ‘Wine, too! And before cockcrow! My little Felicity! What has gotten into that pretty head of yours? I thought you a sober maid.’

  ‘Then you misjudged me, husband. Come, ’tis for you to pour. A toast to us on our anniversary. Five months wed to the day and no regrets.’

  He knelt on the bed, still rumpled from sleep, looking like an excited child.

  ‘And after the toast?’ he asked.

  She nodded, smiling, and for a moment they clung together. Then he released her and moved to the foot of the bed to pour the wine. He handed her both glasses to hold while he pulled the drapes, hiding them from view if one of the children or a servant should surprise them at their love-making. When they were thus secure, Allan raised his glass.

  ‘What shall we drink to?’ he asked. ‘This is your notion.’

  Felicity raised her glass to touch his.

  ‘To you, to me and to the twins,’ she said, ‘and to Martin who brought us together.’

  For a second or two they looked steadily into each other’s eyes.

  Then Allan nodded, approvingly.

  ‘I’ll drink to that,’ he said.

  *

  Devon, July 1581

  Felicity waited at the bend in the road, a hand shading her eyes from the evening sun through which Allan would ride at any moment. Or so she hoped. She had waited impatiently there for what seemed an eternity but was in fact less than half an hour. She held a letter from Maria in her hand and she had only read it through once. Then it had seemed a good idea to waylay Allan on his way back from the mine and share it with him. Now she could wait no longer and sat down on a grassy mound to read it for a second time. After the usual greetings Maria spoke of Arnsville with affection:

  ‘’Tis as though I never have been away. The first year was difficult for me as I wrote you and each letter from Lorna tugged at my heart. But, suddenly, I feel as though I have come home. You will not understand it, I scarce do myself, but ’tis true. I am content at last. My days are full of work and prayer. My sewing is so admired that I have replaced the old chambress whose eyesight is failing. Katharine is a good friend and Dame Veronica makes us both laugh. She is so outspoken and will not take us seriously. I am now mercifully removed from Dame Martha and her snores. She is at one end of the room and I am at the other and can sleep soundly at nights. I also work in the garden twice a week and enjoy the fresh air and exercise and my appetite is quite returned.’

  Felicity scanned the page, looking for the paragraph about Rochester.

  ‘A letter from Abby arrived last week. Her eldest son is to wed on August the seventh and I have applied for permission to attend. Will I see you all there? I pray so. If I must take a chaperone with me I shall ask for Katharine and hope the prioress is agreeable. Abby speaks also of Eloise. She is now wed and has a child. Poor Adam suffers still from his leg which is now badly ulcerated and, she says, will likely never heal … ’

  She thought of Eloise for a moment then pushed the image from her. Standing up, she shaded her eyes again. There was still no sign of Allan so she began to walk on in the direction from which he would come.

  Maria was obviously delighted by the progress being made at the Heron mine. Allan would be pleased, she thought — and deservedly so. The mine was flourishing again. With Oliver’s money and Allan’s experience, they made a good partnership. But then Allan and Oliver had always been firm friends, more like brothers, she thought, even as boys, from what Minnie told her. It was reasonable that they would work well together. And Bucher had come over to England again! Only for six months and only at great expense and with stringent safeguards for his protection — but he had come. And he had proved his worth. The new machinery was built and installed and the new shaft was progressing more rapidly than they had ever believed possible. They had also reopened an old adit, to be reworked with the improved techniques made possible by Bucher. They owed him a great deal.

  The road climbed steeply and at the top she caught the full force of the breeze which ruffled her hair under its slim head-dress and whipped at the hem of her skirt. Make haste, my love, she thought. I have so much to tell you. And even if she had nothing else to say, she could tell him that she loved him. Minnie teased her — a woman does not fall in love with her own husband! But Felicity had done so.

  She sat down again and opened the letter once more, turning her back on the breeze so that it did not tear the page from her fingers.

  ‘ … what news of Beatrice? I trust the sickness does not still trouble her. Another child after so long. Mayhap ’twill be another girl … ’

  Maria did not ask the question that must be uppermost in her mind, thought Felicity. When would she, Felicity, give Allan a child? It was to Maria’s credit that she did not ask. Felicity smiled. Soon she would write to Maria and tell her what she longed to hear. That their first child would be born in six months’ time, at the end of January. Even Allan did not know yet! Felicity had waited for the right moment.

  ‘I long to see the twins,’ Maria continued. ‘When they are a little older mayhap you will bring them to visit me — or I will come to Heron on some pretext. To arrange Piers’ betrothal, mayhap. Lucas … ’

  Hastily she folded the letter. She did not want to remember that Lucas was still unwed. Poor Lucas — but surely he would wed in time. Deliberately she thought of Allan, of their nights together, of their tender loving moments during which their child had been conceived. Felicity had discovered a deep love for Allan and gradually he, too, had felt the stirrings of real love where before there had been only respect and affection. Now even their bodies were in harmony and the final seal was set on Allan’s happiness. But perhaps not the final seal. That would come with her news of the coming child. Faintly the echo of hoof-beats reached her and she stood up, folded the letter and walked towards the sound. As horse and rider rounded the hill, she saw Allan outlined against the sun and waved her hand.

  ‘Allan!’

  He raised his hand in greeting and she knew instinctively tha
t he smiled. She stood for a moment watching him as he drew nearer. Suddenly she glanced around. There was no one else in sight. She put her cupped hands to her mouth and shouted.

  ‘Allan Kendal! I love you, Allan Kendal!’

  She heard his amused laughter. ‘And I have news for you, Allan Kendal!’ she whispered as, smiling, she gathered up her skirts, and ran towards him.

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