by Luccia Gray
I wished Annette would stop looking at me as if she detested me. She was pretending to hate me but I could feel her shiver when I touched her. She wanted me as much as I wanted her, and I was determined to have her at all costs. I was convinced she would be mine in the end. There was no longer any impediment to our marriage, but I didn’t want to be trapped by a wife. She would submit in the end, and in the meantime, there were plenty of young chits available, if I should need female company.
I told Annette what had happened at St. Ives, and she was naturally as shocked as I had been. She urged me to make a formal written complaint to the Retreat and to our local member of parliament, and I agreed in order to humour her.
“Would you help me write the letter, Annette?” She nodded and smiled, so I continued. “I’m afraid I’m only good at writing love letters. Do you still have my letters, Annette?”
When she nodded again, I added, “Reread them, all of them. I still feel the same way about you.”
“John, don’t tease me, and don’t change the conversation. What the archbishop did to Jane is shameful.”
“I had no idea what had been happening at the Retreat, and I’m sure the archbishop didn’t either.”
“He wouldn’t let me visit her. He should have known what was happening. Don’t defend him after all he’s done to Jane and to me. He was a monster.”
“We don’t know that.”
“What don’t you know? He abused my mother. He confessed he was my father on his deathbed and had the gall to ask for my forgiveness. I’ll never forgive him. Never.”
I did think she was exaggerating the matter; after all, she had been born thanks to the archbishop’s intervention and it meant we were not related in any way. “He meant well. He felt sorry for your mother, he told you that when he asked your forgiveness.”
“Don’t you know my mother was a prisoner? She couldn’t defend herself. ‘Let’s poke the lunatic’, Leah heard them say it.”
I hated it when she became dramatic, although I enjoyed seeing the fire lighting up her eyes. I thought I’d tease her a little longer.
“Well, she was a lunatic. What did it matter?”
I watched incredulously as her hand swung up in the air and instantly delivered a sharp slap to my face. “She was my mother!”
My face twisted to the side, but I wasn’t angry. I was fascinated by the sudden burst of passion. I held her right hand as she raised it once more to deliver another blow and spoke softly.
“Annette, I know she was your mother. I’m sorry my father locked her away, and I’m sorry he allowed other men to abuse her, but don’t you see, it would have been worse at the Retreat, and you would never have been looked after, as you have been.”
“You are just like your father.”
I had always been proud to be like my father, so I couldn’t understand why she meant it as an offence. “You know your mother wasn’t well, Annette. Even my mother said she was like an animal when she saw her in the attic. What else could my father have done?”
Her eyes were burning with fury. “I hate you.”
She raised her left hand, but this time I grabbed it before she struck me, pulled it over her head, and pushed her back towards the wall and pressed my chest against hers. She was heaving and her lips were trembling. “You don’t hate me,” I whispered before covering her mouth with mine. I let go of her hands to squeeze her breasts and felt her hands wrap around my neck.
“You love me, Annette,” I whispered in her ear as she ran her fingers through my hair and I kissed her again.
“I want you, Annette. I’ve wanted you since I met you when I almost ran you over with my horse. I thought I couldn’t have you, but now I know you can be mine, and you will be.”
I felt the sharp slap of her palm on my face once more. Her cheeks and lips were bright red and she was taking short, sharp breaths. I knew she was more excited than angry, so when she raised her hand again, I trapped both her hands in one of mine easily and slapped her twice, hard. She screamed and I kissed her ruthlessly, blinded by lust and fury. She writhed against me, but I insisted until I felt her arms grow heavy and her jaw relax into my kiss.
“You’re mine, but I warn you, Annette, if you slap me again, I’ll throw you over the couch, tear off your clothes and take you until you scream my name so loudly every drunk at the Rochester Inn will hear you beg me to stop.”
She pushed me away breathlessly. “I won’t be your mistress and watch you marry someone else.”
I watched her heaving chest and swollen lips. What did she want from me? Marriage? Commitment? Should we both remain unmarried and live together at Eyre Hall?
She pulled down her hands, pushed me away, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. “I’m leaving Eyre Hall.”
“There is no reason for you to leave now, Annette.”
“And is there a reason for me to stay?”
Could she not see that I wanted and needed her by my side? “I want you to stay, Annette.”
“Harry has asked me to marry him.”
How dare she compare me to a country doctor, to Harry Carter of all people? I remembered his flabby tummy, his carrot-red hair and large, stupid-looking eyes. I used to beat him up every time he came to Eyre Hall with his father. “You can’t love Harry Carter.”
“He’s a good man and he loves me.”
I smirked. Of course, he was besotted by her beauty; who wouldn’t be? Annette was the most stunning woman I’d ever met. I’d make sure that his paws came nowhere near her.
“He’s after your money, Annette. You do realise you’re a good catch, don’t you? We’ll have to be careful who you marry.”
“What money? I don’t have any money now that Jane’s not here.”
“Jane has a dowry set aside for you. There’s an account with your name. Mr. Briggs opened it when my father died, and you still have the plantation in Jamaica. It’s yours. My mother insisted on it, although the revenues are delivered to the Rochester Estate.”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “My mother never told you?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I had no idea. Well, that will make life easier for us. Harry won’t be earning much as a junior doctor.”
She couldn’t be serious. “Where are you planning on living with Harry?”
“He’s been offered a job in London, at Guy’s Hospital. We’ll rent rooms, or a house if we can afford it.”
Of course she could afford it. She had no idea how much she was worth. Well, if she wanted to marry and have children I could understand that, but I didn’t want her to move away from the area. Once we were lovers, and we would be lovers, I needed to see her as often as possible.
“Marry him if that’s what you want, but why can’t he stay at the hospital in Hay or Millcote?”
“So I can be your mistress? How can you be so selfish, or believe I would be so fickle? I plan to be faithful to my husband.”
“You will not go to London with Harry.”
She stepped towards the door and pulled the handle. “Try and stop me, John.”
I overtook her and slammed the door, caging her between my arms. “You’re not going anywhere until we finish this conversation.”
She spun round to face me. “It’s finished. I’m marrying Harry and moving to London.”
I dropped my hands to her shoulders, slid my fingers over the smooth olive skin below her neck and pinned her back to the door. “I want you, Annette.”
I held her face, and kissed her. She wouldn’t respond at first, so I bit her lip and took advantage of her scream to deepen the kiss. She tried to break free, but I crushed her against the door and held her face firmly in place as I kissed her again. I could tell she enjoyed my roughness from her moans. I realised there was no way I would be sharing her with anybody. I pressed my forehead against hers. “Marry me, Annette.” I heard the words I hadn’t planned to say.
She moved her face away from mine. “I can’t, John.” Her eyes were
shining and her face anguished. Was she on the verge of tears? “I promised Harry…”
“Marry me and I’ll revoke Jane’s search warrant.”
I knew I would soon have to do so anyway, as her London friends were championing her cause in parliament. I didn’t want to face a public dispute with my mother.
She hesitated. “And Michael’s?”
She was pushing me more than she should, but I stopped thinking when her lips slid over mine.
“Yes,” I said when she broke the kiss. “As long as they stay away from Eyre Hall and leave it all in my hands, they can do whatever they want.” Once we were married, I’d make sure she obeyed my every whim.
It wasn’t a bad arrangement after all. My mother couldn’t remain an outlaw indefinitely, and there seemed to be no way of keeping her away from that servant, so at least they’d be too far away to bother me, and the gossip would soon die down.
Annette smiled and kissed me again. Perhaps she thought she’d won, but I would have the upper hand from now on, and I would make sure I kept it throughout our marriage.
***
Chapter XXII – Seashells and Puppies
Max’s grand carriage was at the door. It wasn’t grander than my mother’s carriage at Eyre Hall, but it made our cart look quite pitiable. I preferred our life in Primrose Cottage, but sometimes I did miss the luxuries of Eyre Hall, especially the new wing my mother had built with two huge bathtubs, velvet curtains, Persian carpets, and all my pretty dresses and shoes.
Max brought my cape and bonnet, which looked coarse and simple next to his tweed jacket and silk shirt. I didn’t mind being poor again; at least I wasn’t as poor as I had been with my previous mother, when I had worked as a scarecrow before we moved to Eyre Hall. We never had to worry about food or shoes, or toiletries, but it was nothing like the grandeur of Eyre Hall. I wondered if Max didn’t mind being my friend, even though I was much poorer than he was.
“These are for you, Mrs. Stewart.” He held up a bunch of roses. “The thorns have been removed.”
My mother thanked him, saying how nice they were.
“Mrs. Stewart, I’d like to invite Helen to Manderley, well not to Manderley exactly. Manderley is big and cold. I’d like to invite her to my summerhouse, by the beach. I’d like to show Helen my books. My grandmother used to love reading. There are hundreds of books at Cove Cottage. She loved poetry. We have Lord Tennyson’s The Princess, Mrs. Barrett Browning’s Sonnets, Miss Rossetti’s Ballads and The Prince’s Progress, Shakespeare’s Sonnets, and many other poetry collections. There are also novels by Mr. Dickens, Mr. Thackeray, Miss Bronte, and Countess Kate, Miss Yonge’s most popular novel. It was my grandmother’s favourite. She can borrow them, or even keep them, all of them. Nobody is going to read them anymore. I’d like Helen to have them.”
He spoke quickly and stuttered sometimes when he was nervous, as he was today. He addressed my mother, but he kept glancing at Michael, which was when he stuttered the most.
“That’s very kind of you, Max,” said my mother. “Helen can borrow your books, but she can’t keep them, I’m afraid.”
Before he left, he thrust a large glass jar at my mother. “Mrs. Stewart, this is for Helen.”
I smiled. I could see it was full of pretty seashells and coloured pebbles from the beach, like the ones I had dropped the day we met.
Michael watched and listened carefully, but he didn’t say a word. I could tell he was vexed, but I wasn’t sure why. I found out the reason when Max left and I asked him if I could go to Manderley the following day.
“No,” he said.
I was so surprised by his harsh expression that I ran to my mother and buried my face in her dress.
“Perhaps another day, Helen,” she said.
“I don’t like that boy,” said Michael. “He’s like his father. He thinks he can do whatever he wants, or he can buy whatever or whoever he likes.”
“He seems a nice enough boy, Michael. He’s shy and lonely, and I’m sure he misses his mother.”
“I don’t think Helen should spend time alone with him.”
I turned furiously to Michael. “Why? Why can’t I go to the summer house and see his books?”
He stared back, surprised that I had raised my voice. I was shocked myself. My mother pushed me away gently. “Helen, you will apologise to Michael and never speak to him in that tone again.”
My mother was going to take Michael’s side. I knew it. He used to do what she wanted all the time at Eyre Hall, but since we were in Cornwall, everything had changed; now she was always doing what he wanted. I had to obey.
“I’m sorry, Michael. I didn’t mean to shout. May I go please?”
“No.”
“That’s not fair, Michael.” His brow was knotted as he turned to look at me. “It’s not his fault you don’t like his father.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“I don’t like him either,” I said. “Max also has to put up with his horrid father. He says his mother left because she was unhappy. Can’t I be his friend?” I felt my eyes swell and hot tears rolled down my cheeks. “It’s not his fault he’s got an awful father, and it’s not mine either.”
My mother left my side and pushed her small fingers through Michael’s huge ones. “Let’s discuss this later, darling,” she whispered. He tightened his hold and brought her hand to his lips. I couldn’t hear what she whispered in his ear, but he smiled and walked towards me.
“I’m sorry, Helen, if I upset you. Come here.” He put his arms around me and pulled me to the couch with him. “Of course it’s not your fault, or his.”
“Please let us be friends. He’ll be going back to boarding school soon and I shan’t have anyone to talk to.”
Michael smoothed my hair and kissed the top of my head. I put my arms around him. “Please, Michael.”
“You’re growing up so fast, Helen. I worry about you. There are people…men…who may not be nice to you. You are so young and innocent.”
“Max would never hurt me.”
Michael sighed. “He better be good to you, or he’ll have me to answer to. I’ll whip him for every tear you cry.”
“Michael, darling, you’ll frighten Helen if you say such things.”
“Can I have tea with him tomorrow, please?”
“I’ll take you to the summer house after teatime and collect you before the sun sets.”
It wasn’t very long, but I didn’t think I should argue. It seemed like a small victory, for a start, and perhaps I could stay longer in the future.
After dinner, when I went up to bed, I couldn’t sleep. I was so excited because I would be going to Manderley the next day and would see Max. I tried to read, but I couldn’t concentrate. I heard my mother and Michael talking downstairs.
“Jane, you should speak to her, about the dangers, about being a woman. It’ll happen soon.”
“Yes, she’s growing up. I don’t think it will be long.”
I had noticed I was changing, feeling restless and nervous at times, suddenly sad, suddenly happy, and I was growing differently. They kept telling me I was growing up, but I only noticed I was growing rounder, fatter, and hairier. I wasn’t sure if I liked it, but there didn’t seem to be any going back.
“I don’t know how I’ll cope with that, Jane. Helen, a young woman. It’s too soon.”
“She’s not twelve yet. I’m not ready either.”
“I’ll kill him if he, or anyone else, hurts her.”
“We’ll be careful, darling. It will be all right. We’re safe here now.”
“I hope she finds a husband who will love her half as much as I love you, Jane.”
I heard them kissing and whispering endearments, then I heard the stairs creaking as they walked up to their bedroom and the whispers continued, and then I heard my mother’s muffled sighs, Michael’s groans, and later silence. It wasn’t the first time. It was their usual ritual. I realised it must be why my mother was always happy whe
n Michael was near, and why Michael was always watching my mother and telling her how pretty she looked.
I hadn’t noticed at Eyre Hall, where the rooms were large and the walls thick, but Primrose Cottage was small, the rooms were close, and the walls were thin. Far away from Eyre Hall, I learnt that being in love was full of magical moments shared with someone special. Max made me feel special. Could it be love I was feeling?
The next day was bright and sunny. I convinced Michael to take me to the summerhouse before teatime. We sat on a bench outside the cottage drinking tea and eating some biscuits that Mrs. Benson had made.
Max told me he was glad I’d come early.
“I almost didn’t.”
“Why? Didn’t you want to come?”
“Yes I did. It was Michael who didn’t want me to come.”
“Why? He doesn’t like me.” He looked so sad. “Nobody likes me.”
“That’s not true,” I lied. “He does like you, but he doesn’t like your father.”
“I agree with him on that.”
I nibbled a biscuit. “He said he’d whip you if you made me cry.”
“He doesn’t scare me.”
I knew he was just pretending. I could tell he was terrified of Michael. “He should. Most people are afraid of him.”
He grabbed my hand, spilling my tea. “I’ll never make you cry, and I’d help him whip anyone who tried to hurt you!”
I giggled. “Don’t be silly! Nobody is going to hurt me, not anymore.”
“Who has hurt you?”
“My brother. He calls me little imp, and he sent me to a horrible boarding school. I hate him.”
“Where is he?”
“I’m not supposed to talk about him. Eyre Hall seems so far away.”
“Where’s that?”
“Eyre Hall is where I used to live, in Yorkshire. It’s a grand house. It belongs to my mother, well, it used to, now my brother lives there and my mother says she never wants to go back.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“No. I want to stay here with my mother and Michael, and you. I like being your friend.”
“When my father dies, I’ll be alone, completely alone.”
