by Linda Sole
Ten
‘Where have you been?’ Harry walked in as Roz was rubbing her hair with a towel. He looked at the gown lying on the floor where she’d dropped it; the material seemed to be drier than he’d expected. ‘It stopped raining an hour ago.’
‘I took shelter in a lean-to that was full of hay and I didn’t realize the rain had stopped,’ Roz said without looking at him. ‘I’m sorry if you were worried, Harry. I didn’t think you would notice.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ He glared at her as she slipped out of her wet petticoat, standing naked before him until she pulled on a silk dressing robe. ‘You’re my wife. Of course I worry if you’re caught in a storm.’
‘Then I ask for your pardon, Harry. Next time I go visiting and the sky looks dark I’ll take the carriage.’
‘How was Julia? You seem in a better mood than you were earlier.’
‘Yes, I am.’ Roz smiled at him in the mirror. ‘Julia told me that she may be carrying Philip’s child. Don’t you think this quarrel between us is foolish? I know I was nervous on our wedding night but it won’t happen again. I’m sure you want an heir – don’t you?’
‘Perhaps. Something is different – what has changed you, Roz? Why are you looking at me that way?’
‘It’s foolish to go on quarrelling. I can’t force you to come to my bed, Harry – but I shall not be frigid if you do.’
‘I’ll think about it. You’d best hurry and get dressed. We have guests for dinner this evening. Raymond and Madeline came earlier than I expected.’
‘Very well.’ Roz turned away and walked into her dressing room.
Harry stared after her, suspicion in his eyes. Something had changed Roz. She was like the girl he’d wanted to marry him, before their wedding night and the subsequent quarrels.
‘How are you, Madeline?’ Roz kissed the Frenchwoman on the cheek. ‘That dress is so beautiful – is it the very latest style? I love the colour and the way it sweeps up dramatically to the bustle at the back.’
Madeline was stunningly beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes, and she had a rare sensuality that turned heads.
‘Yes, it is the latest thing.’
In Paris Roz had been quiet, reserved, and she knew the Frenchwoman had dismissed her as a nobody. Roz was aware that Madeline had flirted shamelessly with Harry and they’d possibly had an affair, but she hadn’t minded. She still didn’t mind but she had no intention of being eased to one side in her own home.
‘I thought it must be – but you are always so elegant.’
‘You are better now? In Paris perhaps you were unwell?’
‘I may have been a little queasy; the food at the hotel was very rich and not particularly well cooked. Home cooking is so much better if one has a good chef – do you not think so?’ Her gaze flicked to Sir Raymond who was an older, distinguished-looking man; the perfect foil for his wife’s outstanding beauty. ‘I am so pleased you were able to come sooner than expected, sir.’
He moved forward, bowing over her hand. His eyes travelled over her with new interest. In Paris he had ignored her but now he was noticing her.
‘I am delighted to meet you again, Mrs Rushden. I was uncertain as to whether I would enjoy a stay in the country, but now I’m certain it will be much more interesting than I’d thought.’
Roz pretended not to understand him. ‘Harry has had the house renovated to a high standard. The plumbing is modern and less noisy than at the hotel – and the gardens have been redesigned.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of the renovations,’ he murmured as he kissed her hand. Roz laughed. She had rediscovered the art of flirting and saw to her satisfaction that both Harry and Madeline looked less than pleased at her performance. ‘You must show me the gardens tomorrow morning.’
‘I should be delighted,’ Roz said and took his arm. ‘My housekeeper is looking desperate. Perhaps we should go into dinner?’
‘Harry is a lucky dog,’ he said close to her ear. ‘I didn’t notice in Paris but here you have blossomed.’
‘An English rose does best in English soil, perhaps?’
Roz laughed as he whispered something in her ear, then drew a chair for her at the table. They were dining in the smaller parlour; the atmosphere was intimate and Roz suddenly found herself the centre of attention.
Harry was staring at her with new interest. Roz felt the laughter bubble inside her but she held it back, giving Harry an enigmatic look across the table. In Paris he had responded to Madeline’s flirting but she did not particularly care. At this moment she was bursting with happiness and nothing Harry could do or say mattered. For the moment she was nursing her secret, holding the memory of those precious hours with Tom in the hay barn inside her.
Roz had forgotten all the things she enjoyed, her natural sense of self-worth repressed and buried beneath a mountain of shame. But she felt no shame in what had happened that afternoon. Tom’s uncomplicated loving had set her free of all the doubts and humiliation. Paul had raped her, making her feel dirty and worthless. Harry said she was frigid and without feeling – but Tom made her feel as if she were special.
‘Do you like archery, Sir Raymond? If the weather is fine tomorrow we might set up a target in the grounds.’
‘I’ve never been much good with arrows. I’m more of a huntsman myself. I like to follow the hounds, but Madeline enjoys the sport. You should make a match of it and we’ll cheer you on.’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Roz smiled inwardly. The only person she wanted to match her skill against was Tom. She wished that she might ride out again in the morning and meet him, but they’d agreed that it must not happen again. What had happened in the hay barn was wrong – but that didn’t stop the happiness spiralling through her. She wouldn’t go to meet him deliberately but they would meet again and it would happen again, when the time was right. The certainty of it made her want to laugh or dance for joy.
‘What are you thinking about, Roz?’ Madeline asked. ‘Do you have a secret? There is such a look in your eyes.’
‘A secret?’ Roz lifted her wineglass and sipped it. ‘Now what makes you think that, Madeline? I have no secrets from my husband – any more than he has secrets from me.’
Did she imagine the guilty glance that passed between them? She had suspected something in Paris. It might be the real reason Harry had invited them to visit so soon.
‘Roz, did you find those collar studs?’ Harry asked as he entered her bedchamber that night. She was standing in her nightgown, her hair brushed and hanging loose about her shoulders. ‘You looked so beautiful tonight . . .’ He moved towards her. ‘Did you mean it when you said we should try again?’
‘Yes, of course. I’ve never been unwilling. I was just nervous that night.’
‘I was so hurt,’ Harry said and there was a husky note in his voice. ‘I’ve been such a pig to you – but I had to strike back to hurt you, as you hurt me. I’m ashamed of what I said. Can you forgive me?’
‘Of course, Harry. It was so foolish of me to shut you out like that. I didn’t mean to but . . . it won’t happen again, I promise.’
‘I still love you, Roz.’ He took a step towards her. ‘You led me on in the carriage and then . . . but I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. It’s Richmond who should be punished, not you.’
‘Yes, he should, but there’s nothing you can do, Harry. We are married for better or worse and we ought to try to make the best of things. I respect you for what you’ve made of your life and I want to have your children. Please let me at least try to make you happy.’
‘Roz . . .’ His voice broke as he took her into his arms and held her close. Roz clung to the thought of Tom’s loving in her mind, remembering the scent of him and the way he’d made her feel. She slid her hands into Harry’s hair and lifted her face for his kiss. He groaned and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed.
This time, Roz knew better than to lie like a dead thing as he touched her. She stroked his face and t
hen ran her hands down his back, her eyes never leaving his. He tore off his nightshirt and she removed her own. For a moment he stared at her body hungrily, then he began to kiss her breasts. Roz ran her hands over his back, parting her legs for him as he sought out the moistness of her inner citadel. She closed her eyes as he came to her and remembered the sweetness of Tom’s touch. Harry wasn’t the same; she didn’t feel the same joy and freedom she’d known with Tom, but she felt something and she let Harry sense her response. When he reached a swift climax she gasped and dug her nails into his shoulders, which seemed to please him. She turned her head to smile at him as he rolled away from her and lay on his back.
‘It’s all right now, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ He put out a hand to touch her hair. ‘I’ve been an idiot, Roz. You’re my wife. It’s all right now. We can’t change what’s done and I was wrong to deny you. We both want children and we can at least find some comfort in each other.’
He left the bed and retrieved his nightshirt, going through to the other room without looking at her. Roz closed her eyes. It was all right, she could still feel Tom’s touch and Tom’s kisses. It was as if Harry had never been with her. She’d done what she had to do to breach the gulf between them. Harry wasn’t fooled. He knew she didn’t love him but his hurt pride was healed, his anger against her gone. They would have a marriage of sorts, even though he might still find his pleasure in other women.
Had she not known about Madeline she might have felt guilty, but Harry had broken his vows first. Instead of trying to understand her hurt he’d blamed her for deceiving him, forgetting that she’d tried to tell him when he’d proposed.
Roz banished her husband and his mistress from her mind and tried to picture Tom in his bedchamber. Was he asleep or was he thinking of her?
Tom heard his mother’s cry and threw back the patchwork quilt, jumping out of bed. He hadn’t been able to sleep because Roz’s perfume seemed to cling to his skin and he couldn’t stop thinking of her. Was she lying alone or in her husband’s bed? That wasn’t his business. She was unhappy in her marriage but she’d refused to run off with him. He couldn’t blame her. He had little to offer a woman like Roz.
Putting his feet to an icy cold floor, he went through the hall to the room where his father slept. As expected, he discovered his mother trying to change the bedclothes.
‘Here, let me do it, Ma.’
‘I’ll have to manage him while you’re away.’
‘Sarah Forrest is coming to help with the chores. Get Granny Hubbard to give you a hand with Pa. For goodness’ sake, we’ll only be away for a couple of days.’
John Blake was swearing and muttering as Tom rolled him to one side and pulled out the folded sheet beneath him, tossing it to the floor and replacing it with another. It saved the mess going through to the bottom sheet and the mattress, which would have made things worse. Once his father was dry and settled, Tom left him to sleep and went down to the kitchen. Ellen had taken the sheets into the scullery. Tom stoked up the range fire and was putting the kettle on when she came through.
‘I can’t break my promise to Mary Jane, Ma. It will be hard enough for her once we get home.’
‘I know. I don’t expect you to, Tom. You do too much already, but he makes such a fuss when I try to change him.’
‘He still thinks you want him dead,’ Tom said with a sigh. ‘I’m making tea. Do you want some?’
‘I might as well. I can’t sleep,’ Ellen said. ‘Carrie was gone most of the afternoon and you know it rained, but she was as dry as a bone when she got back. Where do you think she goes to?’
‘She probably found shelter in a barn or something.’
‘I swear I’ll kill her if she does it again.’
‘Squire is dead,’ Tom said and looked at his mother’s face. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I hope it’s not true but sometimes I think she lied to us, Tom. She’s so pleased with herself and the babe. Seems to me she knew exactly what she wanted – and how to get it.’
‘Mebbe she did. Does it matter now?’
‘Dick is dead because of what she told us that day, and your pa’s been worse since she had the babe. Poor little mite. When she feels like it she nurses and croons over her, then she’s away across the fields and there’s no one to look after the child but me. I love her, Tom, but it’s too much for me.’
‘You will have Mary Jane to help you soon.’
‘Yes, that’s the one bright thing in all of this.’ He got up to make the tea and found his mother watching as he brought the large brown pot to the table. ‘You are all right with it, aren’t you – the wedding?’
‘Of course I am, Ma. Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘I’ve nagged you into it,’ Ellen said as he set the pot down and fetched a jug of milk from the pantry.
‘I want to get on in life, Ma. I was trying to save every penny but that’s a false economy. I can’t do everything myself, any more than you can. A man in the yard and Mary Jane in the house, and things will be easier all round.’
‘Your lass was up to see me today. Her ma wanted to confirm the numbers for the meal after the wedding. She asked to have a look round so I took her upstairs. She looked in on your pa and spoke to him, but you know what he is.’
‘I hope he didn’t shout at her?’
‘He just shut his eyes and pretended he was asleep.’
‘Mary Jane knows what to expect. I warned her before the banns were called.’
‘Well, she asked if she could bring some things here today. Seems she’s got a chest of stuff she’s been saving for a year or two.’
‘Before we started courting.’
‘Aye. I think she had her eye on Dick once but that’s water under the bridge now.’
‘I’m not head over heels, Ma. Mary Jane’s pretty and she knows what I want from a wife.’
‘Yes, I thought that was it. I’m sorry, Tom. If Dick had been alive you might have taken your time and found someone you could truly love.’
‘I doubt it would’ve made much difference. I’ve had my dreams, Ma – but I know that’s all they were. Mary Jane will make me a good wife.’
‘Are you prepared to be a good husband?’
‘What’s brought this on?’ Tom finished his tea and put the mug in the deep stone sink. ‘I’m off to bed. It will soon be morning and I’ve a lot to do tomorrow if I’m to be married on Saturday.’
‘Get off to bed then,’ Ellen said and then hesitated. ‘She was never for you, Tom. Not in a million years.’
Tom made no answer. His mother didn’t know Roz. She had no idea that he’d been with her in the hay barn during a rainstorm. She would never guess what they had been to each other – or that Tom’s body yearned for her in a way it never would for Mary Jane.
‘The gardens are lovely, I’ll give you that,’ Sir Raymond said as they finished the tour and began to walk towards the house once more. ‘But a woman of taste like you must long to change things in the house?’
Roz turned her gaze on him. Just what was he up to? Harry had given the architect and the decorator carte blanche and Roz wished he’d left the furnishings to her, because there were just too many fussy details that spoiled the look.
‘Everything is very new,’ she replied. ‘In time things will become more comfortable.’
Sir Raymond turned to her. ‘You should never have married a man like Rushden. He has no taste or sensitivity.’ He took her hand, his finger stroking the palm. ‘You would find me more skilled in the arts of love, Roz.’
Roz drew her hand away, repressing the shudder that ran through her at his touch. ‘Sir Raymond! You ought not to say such things to me.’
‘You’re not such a little prude. I saw that look in your eyes last night. You looked like a woman who had been to meet her lover and was well satisfied.’
‘How dare you?’ Roz moved away, half angry, half fearful. He caught her arm and swung her back to face him. ‘Please let me go, sir.’
‘Won’t you call me Raymond? There’s no reason why we shouldn’t amuse each other. Madeline and your husband began their affair in Paris. Surely you knew that?’
‘Why did you come here if that is the case? Don’t you care what she does?’
‘Madeline has her lovers and I have my pleasures. We don’t believe in petty jealousy. I always know when she has a new lover – and I saw that look in your eyes last night. I doubt your husband knew what to make of it, but if I alert him to the truth he will soon catch on.’
‘Are you trying to blackmail me?’
‘Blackmail is an ugly word. You could be nice to me while we’re here. We shan’t stay more than a couple of weeks and I’m not demanding; once a day would be sufficient.’
‘Once would be more than enough for me,’ Roz flashed at him. ‘If you wish to tell Harry lies do so. He will not believe you – and there is no reason for him to be jealous. I do not have a lover and I have no intention of obliging you.’
She broke away and walked into the house. She was seething inside as she went into her favourite parlour and found Madeline going through her sewing box.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I need a thread to sew on a button,’ Madeline said but there was a guilty look in her eyes. ‘Your embroidery is very neat, Roz. I am hopeless at anything more than plain sewing and I don’t care for it at all.’
‘Perhaps you prefer other pastimes?’
‘Yes, perhaps.’ Madeline smiled. ‘Your husband took me riding this morning. Yesterday, we arrived in a rainstorm, as you know – but of course you didn’t know. You were out riding. Harry was worried because the rain was so heavy. Did you take shelter somewhere?’
‘For a while, yes. Why do you ask?’
‘We passed a hay barn this morning. Harry said it belongs to a neighbour of your brother’s. The land lies between your brother’s estate and Harry’s – he said both he and Sir Philip want to buy it but the owner is refusing to sell.’
‘I know nothing about Harry’s business or Philip’s.’
