by Linda Sole
Most of the reception rooms were in Roz’s opinion overlarge for private use. She had decided on the small back parlour because it looked out on to a pretty little walled garden and she enjoyed the view. The French windows opened out on to a paved area and when opened on a warm day let in the fragrance of roses.
Having written some letters of invitation to Harry’s friends she decided to go for a little walk about the grounds and returned with a basket of leaves and flowers in time to wash her hands before going into the dining parlour for lunch. Harry was standing at the sideboard examining the dishes set out for their meal. He turned and frowned as he saw her enter.
‘Where have you been? One thing I expect from you, Roz, is punctuality. I’m sorry luncheon is so mean today. You must have a word with Mrs Martin and tell her this just will not do.’
Roz looked and saw there was a selection of roast beef, cold chicken and ham; also mashed potatoes, vegetables and pickles.
‘What more could you wish for, Harry? I told Mrs Martin that we did not need so much food. Half of the breakfast dishes were wasted this morning . . .’ She saw the cold glitter in his eyes and faltered. ‘Why are you annoyed?’
‘Must I do everything myself? If you have no idea of what is proper in a gentleman’s house I shall tell Mrs Martin to come to me before making changes.’
‘You wouldn’t humiliate me in my own home? I am the mistress here. I must be allowed to order my household.’
‘Then show me you know how to behave. I do not need to economize and I will not allow you to make me look mean. The food that we don’t eat is eaten by the servants or given away to the poor. For goodness’ sake, Roz, anyone would think we were paupers.’
‘I was merely trying to be a thrifty housekeeper.’
‘Then don’t interfere. Mrs Martin knows what I like. You are here to look pretty and entertain our guests when they call. Please leave the arrangements to those who understand them.’
‘Just as you wish.’ She controlled her feelings behind a mask of indifference. As Harry finished filling his plate she helped herself to some chicken and a little potato.
‘Is that all you’re having?’ Harry glared at her. ‘You will become too thin and lose your looks if you refuse to eat properly.’
‘I never eat a great deal at luncheon.’
‘No, you prefer to sit brooding like a ghost at the feast. I hope you are going to show a little more animation when our guests visit. Madeline asked me twice in Paris if you were ill.’
‘I am perfectly well, Harry.’
‘Then eat something. Damn you, Roz. That face is enough to put a man off his food.’
‘Then I shall leave you to enjoy your lunch, Harry.’ She pushed her chair back and got to her feet but he was at the door before her. He caught hold of her arm, forcing her back to the table. ‘Please let me go. I’m not hungry.’
‘Sit there and eat something,’ he muttered, pushing her into the chair. ‘For goodness’ sake, Roz. Surely you can hold a conversation and eat your meal?’
‘Very well. What would you like to talk about?’
‘Tell me what you did this morning.’
‘I went for a walk and picked some flowers for the house. Don’t frown at me. Before I picked the roses, I asked the gardener which blooms were for use in the house.’
Harry forked a piece of rare beef and put it in his mouth. Roz cut a tiny piece of chicken. It tasted like sawdust and she chewed it for a long time before swallowing.
‘At least you used your head for once. It would be a shame to spoil the symmetry of the gardens and we want them to look at their best for our guests. We’ll give a dinner and the younger ones can dance in the gallery if they wish, but there will be cards set up in the back parlour for the gentlemen.’
‘Couldn’t you use one of the other reception rooms? I like that parlour, Harry. It will smell of cigar smoke in the mornings if the gentlemen sit at cards all night.’
‘That is why I thought we’d keep to the back parlour and leave the best rooms to you ladies.’ Harry finished his food and got up to replenish his plate. ‘I suppose we could use the library if you prefer.’
‘Would you mind? I’ve taken one or two of my own things to that parlour because I admire the view.’
‘Well, have it if you want. After all, it’s your home.’
‘Thank you.’ Roz forced a smile as a maid came in to ask if she wanted the sweet course brought in. ‘Not yet, Iris. I’ll ring for you if Mr Rushden wants anything more.’
Harry sipped his wine and looked thoughtful. ‘It’s better without the maids about when there’s just the two of us. I suppose that was another of your suggestions?’
‘I hate being hovered over when I’m eating. I thought you liked serving yourself at the hotel?’
‘Yes, I do prefer it, but only when we’re alone. I want to keep up a certain style when we have guests, Roz.’
‘Yes, I think I understand that.’
‘You will speak to Mrs Martin, then?’
‘Yes, of course. Thank you.’
He hesitated, then: ‘I have no wish to humiliate you – but think before you change things in future and ask me if you’re not sure.’
‘Yes, Harry. Shall I ring for Iris?’
‘No, I’ll have another glass of wine.’ He refilled his glass and tried to pour her some but she put her hand over her glass. ‘No? Suit yourself. What are you going to do this afternoon?’
‘I thought I might read or do some embroidery.’
‘Don’t you want to visit friends?’
‘Not really.’
‘You should ride over to see Julia.’
‘Yes, perhaps I should.’ Roz stood up. ‘Will you excuse me.’
‘For goodness’ sake, Roz. You’re not a child and I’m not your mother.’
Roz walked from the room. Tears pricked her eyes but she refused to let them fall. One minute Harry spoke to her as if she were a fool and countermanded her orders, the next he was accusing her of acting like a child. What did he want from her – or had she committed such a vile sin that he needed to punish her all the time?
‘I’ve been hoping you would ride over,’ Julia said and kissed her cheek. ‘Philip said I shouldn’t intrude because you needed time to settle into your new home, but if you hadn’t come I should have ordered the carriage and visited you tomorrow.’
‘You look content, Julia. I think you must be happy in your marriage.’
‘Yes, of course. I always knew that Philip didn’t love me, but he is considerate and does not interfere with the way I do things. I never expected more and when I have children I shall have all I need.’
‘I am so pleased for you,’ Roz replied and glanced around the parlour. Julia had rearranged the furniture, bringing in things she liked from other rooms. ‘You have made this parlour your own. I think it looks much nicer – more comfortable.’
‘I am not sure Mama thinks as you do.’ Julia smiled. ‘She notices each change. However, she is trying to be diplomatic and pretends to like what I’ve done. I’m having new drapes made for all the best rooms.’
‘I think several of the rooms need refurbishment,’ Roz said and sighed. ‘Harry has had everything done at the Towers. I have little to do with my time. He says all he asks of me is to entertain our guests and look attractive.’
‘He intends to spoil you because he loves you,’ Julia said. ‘You are fortunate in that way, Roz – but when you have children your time will just evaporate.’ She placed her hands on her stomach and then leaned towards Roz, lowering her voice. ‘Philip wanted to be sure before he told anyone, but I shall tell you that I believe I am carrying his child.’
‘Julia! That is wonderful,’ Roz said and moved closer, taking her hands and then kissing her cheek. ‘I am very happy for you.’
‘Perhaps it will happen for you soon.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Roz turned away and sat down on the little sofa as one of the maids brought in the tea tray. She
waited until the girl had gone before adding, ‘We are to have visitors staying next week. Some friends Harry met in Paris and others. We are giving a dinner for our neighbours to start things off. I do hope you and Philip will come?’
‘Yes, of course. I shall enjoy that, Roz. We shall be having a dinner for friends ourselves soon. I will send an invitation for both of you, and any guests you have staying with you.’
‘Thank you. I am sure Harry will be pleased to accept.’
Something in her tone alerted Julia. ‘Is anything wrong? You don’t seem quite yourself.’
‘I am perfectly well. I suppose . . . everything happened so quickly. It isn’t much more than a year since Father died and then Philip married you and I married Harry. Nothing is the same.’
‘It feels strange coming back here as a guest, I dare say?’
‘Oh no, I’m happy to see you as the mistress here. You mustn’t think I resent you, Julia, because I don’t. I can’t explain.’
Julia was silent for a moment, then: ‘If you ever need a friend, Roz, I shall always be here for you.’
‘Thank you.’ Roz hesitated, tempted to confide at least part of her problem. Then, before she could continue, her brother walked in. ‘Good afternoon, Philip. How are you?’
‘Busy. I’ve hardly stopped since we returned.’ He bent and kissed his wife’s cheek. ‘What has my sister been saying to you, my love?’
‘She came to invite us to dinner next week,’ Julia replied. ‘Will you have some tea with us, Philip? I can send for a fresh pot if you wish?’
‘Thank you, no. I shall leave you to your cosy chatting since you have company. Roz, perhaps we could have a talk one day?’
‘Call whenever you please. I am sure Harry will be pleased to see you.’ Roz stood up and began to pull on her gloves. ‘I ought to be leaving, Julia. I shall see you both next week. If what you have to say is urgent, Philip, you may walk me to the door.’
‘It will keep,’ he said and sat down, looking at his wife. ‘I think perhaps I will have some tea after all.’
Roz walked from the room. The footman sprang to open the door for her and she nodded to him as she passed through. Outside, a cool breeze had sprung up and there was a hint of rain in the air. Perhaps she ought to have brought the carriage rather than riding the five miles from the Towers. If it started to rain heavily she would be soaked by the time she got home.
The rainstorm burst as Roz was leaving Thornton land. She put her head down and kept riding but it was heavy going, the wind driving the rain into her face. When she saw the lean-to at the side of a hay barn, she changed direction and headed for it, even though it was on Tom Blake’s land. Dismounting, she led her horse into the shelter and tied the reins to a wooden post.
‘It was sudden,’ a voice said from behind her. ‘You look wet through. Here, take my coat.’
Roz turned and saw the man who had spoken. Her heart did an odd somersault and she found herself smiling, reminded of a summer’s day when he’d helped her by finding her brother’s horse.
‘Mr Blake,’ she said. ‘I am wet but I can’t take your coat. You will turn cold yourself.’
‘I can use some of this sacking.’ He removed his heavy grey coat and placed it about her shoulders. Its weight made her feel warmer at once. The cloth smelled of horses and hay and something more she couldn’t define but associated with him.
‘You are generous to give me this,’ she said. ‘Do use some of those sacks. I feel so guilty taking your coat.’
‘I got here before it came on heavily. Come and sit on these hay bales. If I put them either side of us they will keep out the cold.’
Roz hesitated, then took the hand he offered. He had made a place for them to sit on the bales and sat next to her, pulling the bales round them. The hay smelled sweet and dry and Roz felt warmth beginning to spread through her.
‘How are you, Mr Blake? And your mother – and Carrie?’
‘Ma and Carrie are all right. Pa had a stroke and he’s been a right devil since he came through it. I’m getting married this Saturday.’
‘Really?’ She did not know why the news should come as a shock. ‘I must congratulate you. What is the fortunate lady’s name?’
‘Mary Jane Forrest. She and her ma do sewing for you and Lady Thornton sometimes.’
‘Yes, I know Mary Jane well. She is pretty and a happy girl, which must be a good thing in a wife, I think. I wish you both happiness, Mr Blake.’
‘Do you think you might call me Tom?’
‘Yes, if you wish it.’ Roz laughed softly. ‘You keep rescuing me, Tom Blake, so perhaps I should treat you as the friend you’ve been to me.’
‘You’re beautiful,’ Tom said and leaned towards her. For a moment they looked into each other’s eyes. Roz felt her heart begin to beat wildly and something moved inside her.
His kiss took her breath away, sending little charges of excitement through her body. Without realizing what she was doing, she ran her hands into his dark hair and kissed him back. The hunger in the kiss shook them both and they drew back, staring at each other in shock.
‘Oh . . .’ Roz put a finger to her lips. ‘You kissed me . . .’
‘I shouldn’t have done that – but I’m not sorry. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day you got caught on the briars.’
‘You scolded me for taking the roses that belong to the poor people.’
‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ Tom reached out to touch her face. ‘I have to marry because Ma can’t manage alone and Carrie is more trouble than she’s worth, but I haven’t stopped thinking of you. I dream of you all the time – of loving you.’
‘You shouldn’t . . .’ Roz began, then leaned into him and kissed him. This time he put his arms around her and held her close. She was trembling when he let her go. ‘I married for the wrong reasons too. I wasn’t in love with Harry. I’m so unhappy, Tom.’ It had come out so suddenly; all she’d wanted to say to Julia and couldn’t. The tears slid down her cheeks and he wiped them away with his fingers. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that – it was wrong of me.’
‘It’s being here in the rain.’ Tom brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. ‘You’re Roz and I’m Tom while we’re here. When you get on your horse and leave I’ll be a farmer you know slightly and you’ll be Mrs Rushden who lives at the Towers. Nothing will have changed.’
‘But it has already. I feel wanted, loved.’ Roz moved closer, her lips seeking his once more. ‘Love me, Tom. Just this once. Let me live in your arms and then we’ll part. We’ll never do this again.’
‘Are you sure?’ His look was disbelieving, his eyes searching her face. ‘It’s what I want but . . .’
‘Don’t question, just love me,’ Roz whispered against his lips. She was reckless, lost to all caution. Here, marooned by the rain, nothing else seemed real. ‘I’ll never ask you for anything more. Please . . .’
‘I’m the one who should be saying that,’ he murmured and drew her back into the hay bales. His hands caressed her face, his lips moving against her throat and her hair. ‘I’ve dreamed of this so many times. I know it’s a dream. I shall wake up soon and find you gone.’
‘If it is a dream let’s make it one to last a lifetime.’
Roz trembled as his hands moved over her body. She lay back, gazing up at him, expecting the feelings of revulsion to start, to feel herself freezing, rejecting him, but it didn’t happen. She was alive and warm, her flesh leaping at this man’s touch. She didn’t understand why or what had happened, just that she was on fire with need and wanting, the wetness between her thighs testimony to her willingness for what happened next.
Roz arched her back, a long, shuddering sigh leaving her lips as Tom moved inside her. It was such a sweet feeling, her breath coming faster and faster as she moved in time with his thrusting, reaching out to him and welcoming him deeper and deeper inside her. She had never known there could be such pleasure, never understood that she could be so aband
oned or eager for a man’s touch.
When he came inside her, Roz felt the tears trickle down her cheeks. She tasted their salt; it mingled with the taste of him on her lips and she ran her tongue over them.
‘You taste so good,’ she murmured and opened her eyes to look up at him.
‘Tears? Did I hurt you?’
‘You made me feel wonderful.’ Roz reached up to stroke his cheek, feeling the faint roughness where he was beginning to need a shave and touching the tiny cleft in his chin. ‘How did you learn to do that?’
‘I’ve no idea. It has never been that good for me before.’ He bent and kissed the bridge of her nose. ‘No regrets, then?’
‘None. It was lovely. Something I shall remember when I’m sad.’
‘I won’t marry Mary Jane. We’ll run away together. Ma can have the farm and I’ll find work . . .’
‘Hush, Tom.’ Roz touched a finger to his lips. ‘You know it can’t be that way, my love. This was just a dream we shared. When we leave here after the rain it will be as if it never happened. You can’t desert your family or Mary Jane and I . . .’ She leaned up and brought him down to her. ‘Just hold me. Let’s keep the dream alive for as long as we can.’
‘I want you so much. Why did you have to be a lady and me a farm labourer?’
‘It isn’t that keeping us apart and you know it. If we were both free – but we’re not and we never can be, Tom. Marry Mary Jane and be happy. You can’t break her heart and I can’t leave my husband.’
‘You don’t love him.’ Tom grabbed her hair and held her face close to his. ‘You love me. Say it, Roz. Say you love me.’
Tears were trickling down her cheek. She gazed into his eyes and knew that it was the truth.
‘Yes, I love you. I think perhaps I’ve loved you since we first met that day I was caught in the briar patch but I didn’t have the sense to see it.’
‘One day I’ll have you again,’ Tom said and bent his head to kiss her. ‘One day you will be mine, Roz – and then I’ll never let you go.’
