Circle of Pearls

by Rosalind Laker

  She looked for Adam and could not see him. Then there came a ripple through the gathering as those who had not yet managed to get into the bedchamber helped Michael and the groomsman push Adam through the jam at the doorway. For a few minutes he was wedged with the rest and then he was seized to be shoved and jostled towards the bed, people well-meaning but rough in their eagerness. He reached the foot in a dishevelled state with his dressing-robe torn and his nightshirt ripped from one shoulder. Leaning a hand against the carved bedpost, his grin was resigned as he recovered his breath. But he was to be given only the briefest respite. He was pounced on again, hands snatching the remnants of his robe from him as he was pushed through to his side of the nuptial bed. As jokers grabbed his nightshirt, intending he should go naked to his bride, he exerted his strength and flung them back, making them topple against others. Then he threw himself into the bed beside Julia. It was the sanctuary that forbade further horseplay, although it did not necessarily bring about the speedy departure of the well-wishers from the bedchamber.

  Turning to Julia, Adam cupped the back of her head in his hand and she tipped helplessly against him as he kissed her long and hard. The raucous approbation might have brought down a ceiling less well constructed than that of the Sotherleigh bedchamber. Still holding her head when the kiss ended, he put his cheek against hers and whispered in her ear. ‘That is what they wanted to see. Now they will go.’

  He was right. At last Susan was able to be in command again with Michael to assist her, although even then it took time before they were able to shepherd the last merry-maker out of the apartment back to the celebrations downstairs. Then Anne, who had been awaiting this moment that was solely for parents, arrived to bid the newly-wedded couple good night.

  ‘God bless you both.’

  Then she left the room with Faith and Susan. Mary, the last to leave, was about to close the bedchamber door after her when Julia called out.

  ‘Mary! Wait a moment!’

  As Mary paused, surprised, Julia sprang from the bed to take up her bridal posy, which had been placed in a vase of water on a table. Careless of the drops spattering her nightgown, she rushed with it to Mary and put it into her hands.

  ‘May you know joy in time to come!’

  Mary’s eyes filled with tears. Too choked to speak, she hugged Julia in gratitude and hurried away, forgetting to close the door. Slowly Julia pushed it shut. Then she stiffened. Without turning she knew that Adam had left the bed and was coming soundlessly towards her on his bare feet.

  ‘That posy was well given, Julia.’

  Still she did not turn. ‘She is in love with my brother.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘She talks about him with shining eyes at the least excuse.’

  ‘Such is the weakness of lovers.’

  ‘Not with all, or else I should have shouted my love of you from the pinnacles of Westminster.’ He drew aside the curtain of her hair to place a kiss on the nape of her neck. Then, from behind her, his hands came forward to close over her breasts and hold her lightly against him, the back of her shoulders resting on his chest, the muscles of his thighs pressed to hers. She could tell he had discarded his torn nightshirt and was naked and proud. As his palms caressed her nipples she caught her breath on a delicious tremor and he felt it pass into his own body. Moving his hand down to her waist, he gently swivelled her round to face him and then kissed her, loving her mouth. To his joy her arms slid by her volition round his neck and he held her close, a new harmony created between them by the natural hunger of their young and healthy bodies, the fierce magnetism that had long been between them and his love that sought to find an answering chord in her.

  When their kiss ended she laid her head against his shoulder. ‘I’m sure our marriage mended many feuds today.’ He stroked one hand down her back. ‘There were new beginnings for quite a few people and especially for us.’

  ‘I think ours began when I put on my Elizabethan gown this morning. All day I saw it as the safeguard of happiness, a talisman without which everything would fade away again. It made me reluctant to discard it when my ladies brought me up here, but I need not have feared. What it ignited is still with me.’

  ‘Maybe it’s because I have taken over its charge to be the protector of that happiness.’

  She raised her head and they looked deep into each other’s eyes. ‘I want more than anything that we should fulfil each other’s lives, no matter what is against us,’ she said quietly. ‘There is nothing that we can’t defeat together.’

  He kissed her again and she clung to him, hoping his words would prove true, for if their marriage failed to reach the heights the fault would be hers, of that she was sure. She wanted an end to being torn apart and for the compromise she had made to be a bridge to this man, although if it would take years or a lifetime she could not estimate. Love could not be driven out, but had to take its own time. Not even a new love had the power to banish the old completely if a wilful heart stood its ground.

  ‘Take me to bed,’ she whispered.

  ‘I will, my love and my wife.’ He took her face between his hands and with great gentleness kissed her eyes, her brow, her temples, cheeks and mouth. Then he released the bow at her neckline. As the ribbon slipped away through eyelets he slid the nightgown from her shoulders and kissed them. Then, gathering the soft folds of the garment as it descended, he followed its progress with his lips, lingering at her breasts, her ribs, her firm belly and the chestnut haze at her loins. She trembled at the exquisite sensations he was awakening in her. Her fingers buried themselves convulsively in his hair, her head back and her eyes closed. When the nightgown became a white circle about her feet, not even her toes escaped his kisses. Then, as he straightened up again, he clasped her about the hips with his arms and lifted her as if they were dancers in a ballet of love and she rested her hands on his powerful shoulders, gazing down into his upturned face, which was taut with desire.

  Supporting her back with the spread of one hand he laid her down in the middle of the bed and then came to lie beside her. There began for her a night of passion and sensual delights such as she had never known could be possible. He murmured such loving words to her that she arched with pleasure, even as she did involuntarily in response to some erotic touch of his that made her gasp blissfully, there being no part of her that did not exult at the caressing of his hands, his lips and his tongue. When eventually he plunged magnificently into her the seconds of pain were lost in the welcoming leap of her body to meet his to the full, such a surge and flow of rapturous movement following that she felt delirious with passion. When he broke like an ocean within her they both soared gloriously to such a mutual peak of ecstasy that it was as if they were welded together for ever. Time ceased to exist.

  Dreamily she felt him move his weight from her and she opened her eyes. He had propped himself on an elbow and was looking down at her. She put a hand to the back of his neck and he bent down to kiss her again.

  ‘I love you,’ he said with a smile as if he had not told her many times already.

  ‘I never knew that being in bed could be like this,’ she replied in a gentle jest.

  He laughed softly, ‘I’ve much more to teach you yet, my darling.’

  ‘What could that be?’

  ‘All in good time.’ He slid an arm about her waist and lowered his head to rest against her breasts. Almost at once he slept.

  She stroked his hair, thinking before she drifted into sleep herself that she had known marriage would not be dull with Adam, but what she had not expected was that it should show such early signs of being a most rewarding and even thrilling relationship.

  *

  With the exception of a few elderly wedding guests who departed after the bedding of the bride and groom, all the rest stayed to breakfast after a night of dancing, singing and general merry-making. Many yawned as they left in the early morning sunshine and some snored before their coaches had borne them
away from the steps of the house. Michael saw them all off and personally assisted Susan and Faith into the Holder coach, thanking them again for attending his sister. William took his seat quickly, eager to get back to the Hanningtons’ house and to bed. Christopher lingered a few moments to say goodbye to his old friend. During the festivities they had seized a chance to escape to the library for a quiet half hour when they talked together until Michael’s duties as a host called him back to his guests.

  ‘I hope it will not be long before you are back at Sotherleigh, my friend,’ he said to Michael.

  ‘I hope the same, but be sure and visit my wife and me should you ever come to France.’

  ‘You may count on it.’

  When all the guests had gone Michael went back indoors. The house-guests had retired to their rooms and the servants were already starting to clear. He went upstairs himself, but not to the east wing. Instead he went to Mary’s room, but she had locked the door and would not open it. He realized she had set the pattern of how their lives were to be from now on, but as he turned away he knew that her anguish at this moment was as great as his.

  Dinner had been arranged at the later hour of six o’clock to allow everyone plenty of time to recover from the wedding celebrations. Adam and Julia were expected to make a ceremonial entry and so all were in their places at table when they entered hand in hand. The women looked at her to see if she appeared radiant and the men at Adam to take note whether he looked pleased with himself. But neither gave anything away, both composed and smiling.

  None would have guessed that twenty minutes before in their apartment when they were both ready to come downstairs in their finery, a new gown for her and brand-new velvet jacket and breeches for him, that they had made love again. She had been arranging the lace folds at his neck, wide collars having fallen from fashion in the wake of anything that smacked of Puritanism, and seen how he was looking at her.

  ‘Now?’ she asked in laughter.

  ‘Now.’

  ‘How? I can’t lie down in this gown.’

  ‘I’ll show you.’

  He did, very effectively, taking her where she stood, although half smothered by her raised petticoats, she as eager as he and as swift in her coming. Their hours had been spent in love-making and sleeping and love-making again, everything as ecstatic between them when their nakedness was bathed in sunshine as when by candlelight. Their only respite from this pleasurable programme had been when breakfast had been set out for them in the adjoining parlour, nobody intruding on the bridal chamber, and in thrown-on robes they had eaten ravenously.

  It was afterwards, when he had taken her back to bed, that he gave her his groom’s gift of jewellery, as was customary after the wedding night. It was a diamond necklet. He thought he had never seen anything lovelier than Julia, kneeling naked on a tangle of sheets, her back arched and her diamonds glittering as she held her arms high to preen in her delight in his gift.

  Later, when jugs of hot water had been placed in the garderobe as the dinner hour drew near, they had bathed together and then, overcome by passion, had made love while still wet and with soapsuds sliding from them.

  All this that was secret between them made her wary of meeting his glance throughout the dinner, fearful that just by meeting his eyes she might by a blush give away to others just how perfect everything had been between them, for that was nobody’s business but their own.

  That evening there were cards and billiards. The guests, having slept most of the day, were in no hurry to retire, although they would be leaving in the morning. It was well after midnight before Julia and Adam escaped behind their apartment door. Then they flung themselves into each other’s arms and he bore her through to the bed. This time she did not care how creased her gown became. Later it was tossed on to the floor with everything else she had been wearing. Yet it was still a deliciously long time before they finally slept with their limbs entwined.

  *

  Michael left for France a week later. He had been seeing to the estate from morning to night, putting troubles right and setting out an agricultural programme that he had long felt necessary for Sotherleigh. Adam had promised to see that all went as he wished, which made him less anxious about leaving his land. Yet, when he was in the saddle, he took such a yearning last look at the house that Julia raged anew inwardly that circumstances beyond his control and hers had condemned him to exile. She recalled how Katherine had extracted a promise from her to keep Sotherleigh in her care if all should not go according to plan and now, through her husband, she was doing that.

  This time there was no bad weather to delay Michael’s seacrossing and he arrived home in Paris the following morning. Sophie, hearing his voice in the hall of the apartment, came to meet him, stately and elegant, her black curls dressed more to the back of the head than was the fashion in England. Although she smiled and kissed him her greeting was petulant.

  ‘Did you have to be away so long? You said you’d come home soon after your sister’s marriage.’

  ‘I was delayed a week by bad weather at Calais before I could sail. Therefore, I had to extend my time after the wedding. You look well now. How is Jean-Robert?’

  ‘Putting on weight. Come and see him.’ She liked to encourage his paternal love and interest, aware of the power she held now by being the mother of his son.

  In the nursery the infant, sated from the wet-nurse’s breast, was about to be replaced in his cot, but Michael took him and walked over to the window to see him better. He had never been more proud of anything in his life than in having a son. Jean-Robert had lost his birth-hair and the down that showed now had the chestnut glint that had every chance of matching Julia’s. There were times when Michael caught a glimpse of his father in the baby’s features, but supposed it was a family likeness that reflected his own looks. This was the boy he would teach to ride and hunt, to play cricket and football, to shoot arrows at butts and to know that his roots were at Sotherleigh.

  ‘I’ve something to tell you,’ he said to Sophie, the wet-nurse having left the room.

  She was standing by a table and she clutched the edge of it behind her, full of alarm. Had he made a decision to return permanently to that hateful house that she herself never wanted to see? Her deep fear of his going to the wedding had been that something like this would happen. She had been successful in stopping his return at the time of the Restoration; a few drops from a bottle obtained from an alchemist given daily in his food had incapacitated him. It was unfortunate that it should have made him as ill as it had, but she had been desperate that he should not go. She had risked only a small dose next time and it had not worked at all. At least she had had the baby to ensure he should never leave her. It was the only reason she had allowed herself to conceive, for she was not in the least maternal and had wanted to preserve her figure.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked tightly.

  ‘I believe it is what you have wanted before all else.’ His gaze on her was steady. ‘I have decided to accept your father’s offer to be a partner in the Brissard silk business if he is prepared to make a certain concession.’

  If he had not looked down again at his son, taking hold of the small hand, he would have seen the triumph in her eyes, because she would never have been able to hide it. Once the partnership papers were signed any threat of her having to live in England would be at an end. He would be in a cage of his own making without a key to it. Her father should see to that.

  ‘I’m very pleased, my dear,’ she said evenly, moving forward to place a hand on his arm. ‘As for Papa, you will be doing him the greatest service. He can retire and put all his business cares from him knowing that in you he has a perfect successor. More important even than your keeping the business flourishing is that you will have added years to his life. His health would never have stood up much longer to the strain. What is the concession you mentioned?’

  ‘He wanted me to invest heavily into the business as part of the agreement, but that is no lo
nger possible. I learned from Julia that when the regicide fled from Sotherleigh he took my fortune with him.’

  Her hand fell from his arm and she stepped back in shock. ‘Then you must sell Sotherleigh and raise the money that way.’

  He thought, as he had done many times before, that he had never met a woman more mercenary than his wife. Her demand was not unexpected. ‘Sotherleigh was entailed by Katherine to the eldest son and cannot be sold. There was some land attached to it that was not tied up in this way, but my father sold most of that when in need of funds during the Civil War and the Sotherleigh monies were still tied up in shipping. What is left after Makepeace took the gold coins and the jewelled plate would not raise the capital that I should need to meet the figure your father wanted.’

  ‘Then you are a poor man with a fine property that you can’t sell.’ She was angry and derisive.

  ‘That’s it precisely,’ he agreed calmly. He knew that to be poor was to be despised in her eyes. Her father paid the Brissard employees meagrely and he also knew that the high salary he had received since being married to Sophie had been to ensure that her expenditure could be met comfortably.

  ‘What of the rents and income from the farmland?’ she demanded. ‘You have always said that provided a good income.’

  ‘There will be income mounting up in my absence, but at first much of it will go towards improvements that have been long overdue.’

  She slammed a palm down on the table. ‘Sotherleigh! Always that place must come first.’

  ‘You’re wrong. You and our child come first. As for Sotherleigh I’ve just made my second visit home — the first was in secret for a very short time — since I left nine years ago, so you are exaggerating wildly.’