by Janet Woods
She traced a finger over his lips, blushing as she admitted, ‘I thought . . . that which occurred between us was enjoyable in the extreme.’
‘I am not without finesse in such matters, but that was an introduction only, a quick meal to ease my hunger and to sharpen yours. There are many variations of making love, and from now on our intimacy will become a feast of pleasuring.’
Her body reacted positively to the thought. And later when they made love for the second time she found the long-drawn-out saturation of pleasure almost unbearable, so when she finally found release, she throbbed with the ecstatic relief of it.
She fell asleep almost at once in his arms. Edward gazed down at her, taking pleasure in the lips swollen from his kisses, her breasts pert and proud against his chest and the moist, inviting venus pressing against his thigh.
He wanted more of her, but he was no longer a young man and the effort of making love twice within the hour had taxed him. He also knew she would be tender in the morning. Still, he was pleased with his bride. She’d enjoyed the act of loving, unconsciously displaying a willingness to participate in his pleasure.
Sliding her tousled head carefully onto the pillow he eased himself out of her bed and fetched one of the candles closer to examine the sheet. Not that he doubted his judgement. He just wanted to confirm it. He smiled in satisfaction when he saw the small stain, and walked through the connecting door to his own room, leaving her to her dreams.
Siana was disoriented for a moment when she woke. Sun came through the curtains, causing moving shafts and triangles of intense light to burn against the wall.
Then she remembered and smiled, stretching her body like a cat in the sun until the energy in her muscles came alive.
She felt like running amongst the flowers on the hills. Leaping from her bed, she drew the curtains aside, then took a quick step back.
Her room occupied a corner of the house. Thick iron bars stretched from top to bottom of the window frame. Between them and below her, she could see the garden in front of the house. The flower beds were divided by ribbon hedges into an intricate knotted design. The carriageway formed a circle around the beds before meandering through yew trees and lilac bushes to a pair of huge iron gates.
A sudden melancholy filled her. From behind these barred windows escape was so near, yet so far. Behind her, somebody seemed to sigh. She spun around to see nothing but her own nakedness reflected in the depths of the mirror. Goosebumps climbed up her arms to tremble at the nape of her neck.
There was a knock at the door. Rosie called out as Siana snatched the cotton nightgown from the floor to pull it over her head, ‘’Tis me, Lady Forbes.’
Lady Forbes! What had happened to Miss Siana, she thought, as she scrambled back on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. ‘Come in.’
Rosie carried in a jug of hot water. ‘Master said to wake you at ten. You’re to breakfast and bathe and be ready to accompany him to the horse sales. He said you’re to wear that dark-green gown and matching bonnet.’
‘Horse sales?’
Rosie pulled back the covers. ‘Best hurry, my lady.’
It was then Siana saw the smear of blood on the sheets. ‘Oh,’ she said, feeling somewhat dismayed. ‘My menses have arrived early.’
Rosie smiled as she whispered, ‘It’s not your menses. It’s the bride’s way of telling a man he’s collected his due on his wedding night.’
‘Collected his due?’
‘It’s your virginity, see. The sign informs your husband that no man has had his pleasure of you afore him, if you see what I mean.’
Siana did see what she meant. Her face flamed as she clutched at the servant’s wrist and said in a horrified voice, ‘Promise you’ll not tell anyone else, Rosie.’
‘Don’t you fret, my dear, I’ll change the sheet right now and wash it myself.’ And Siana didn’t notice the woman’s secret smile as she turned away.
Siana couldn’t meet Edward’s eye at first, though she could sense his intimate grin.
‘It’s a lovely morning,’ she said awkwardly when they were alone and settled in the carriage.
‘It is, and your blushes are very sweet.’ He lifted her chin with his cane. ‘Try to keep your back erect, your shoulders back and your chin slightly elevated, otherwise the gown will lose its shape.’
She wanted him to kiss her and smiled at the thought. ‘Are you going to correct me in everything I do, Edward?’
‘You were not brought up to this life so I shouldn’t be at all surprised.’
She frowned.
‘Your expression should remain pleasant, but serene. Always you must appear to be graceful and agreeable for your husband to look upon.’
Detecting a teasing note in his voice, she flicked her eyes up to the tawny warmth of his and giggled. ‘How can I appear graceful when my thoughts are less than serene? You’re being an ogre, Edward Forbes. Would it be seemly for me to kiss my husband good morning?’
He chuckled. ‘On this occasion I’ll allow it. Keep it chaste, though, otherwise I’ll be obliged to make love to you in the carriage whilst we’re on a public highway. That would be most unseemly.’
‘Especially if we were discovered.’ She laughed as she flung herself onto his lap and covered his face with kisses.
It was a less than immaculate pair who descended from the carriage later. Siana shook the creases from her skirt and straightened her bonnet. ‘Was that graceful enough for you?’ she whispered in his ear.
He grinned. ‘The whole exercise was totally disgraceful. You are a completely wicked woman.’
‘Then a man whose ways are as dissolute as yours should serve me well.’
The horse market was a place of great excitement and colour. There were not many women around, but a great many men. Edward seemed to have brought her there to be admired, she realized. Indeed, there were acknowledgements from some she recognized as being guests at their wedding the day before. Many winked knowingly at Edward or patted him on the back while their covert glances at her made her blush, and Edward chuckle.
She began to feel like one of the horses on parade, except the men stopped short of discussing the strength of her fetlocks, the length of her tail or the width of her rump. In front of her, at least!
The glossy, black-coated horse Edward bought for himself could have done with a little schooling, Siana thought, as it flattened its ears and kicked out at the groom.
It was a large horse, recently gelded. The beast seemed difficult and unpredictable in temperament, but sound of wind and fleet of foot. When Edward learned its pedigree was connected to the ancestry of the mare who’d been so cruelly maimed, that fact alone swayed him in its favour.
He turned to her. ‘We must find a mount for you.’
‘I’ve only ever ridden astride a donkey.’
‘You must learn to ride like a lady.’ He stopped in front of a pen containing three mares huddled together. He contemplated them in silence.
When Siana clicked her tongue, one of them turned to gaze languidly at her. The beast was thin, but she had melting brown eyes and dark eyelashes. Siana clicked again and held out a hand. The horse detached herself from the others and ambled over to investigate, her soft muzzle whuffling moistly into her palm. The fall of her tangled mane and tail was almost black. Siana smiled and rubbed the dull hair along the length of her nose. The mare closed her eyes in contentment.
‘Can I have this one, Edward?’
‘The dark bay?’ He sounded surprised. ‘She’s out of condition. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer the grey? She’s a much prettier horse.’
‘This one likes me and she’s affectionate.’
‘A horse is not a pet.’ He turned to the groom. ‘Your opinion on the bay?’
‘She’s been neglected, but it wouldn’t take long to bring her condition up, sir.’ He consulted the paper handed to him by the agent. ‘Irish blood stock. She looks to be a docile creature.’ The horse was walked up and down to inspect her gait.
Her ribs were too obvious under her flesh, but she stepped daintily, her head held proud and her step high.
‘A pretty gait,’ Edward murmured to himself.
Siana hovered anxiously by the two men as the various parts of the bay’s anatomy were discussed. The horse lifted her upper lip and bared her teeth obligingly at the touch of the groom’s probing fingers.
Siana giggled at the sight and when Edward turned towards her she held her breath. She let it out when he smiled and nodded. ‘She will do you.’
Siana slid her arms around the horse’s neck and hugged her. ‘We must think of a name for you then.’
‘Her official name is Keara Aisling, meaning, dark dream,’ the groom said.
‘Keara it is, then.’ Her eyes shining, Siana turned to Edward. She felt like hugging him as well.
He anticipated it for he reached out to caress her face, saying drily, ‘You seem to have sprouted some horse-hair whiskers. I would suggest you resist cuddling animals until a more appropriate place and time.’
She slanted him a glance. ‘Whatever you wish, Edward.’
Whilst Siana was at the horse sale with her husband, Hannah Collins was being turned out of Croxley Farm by Edward’s steward.
‘You ain’t got no right to do this,’ she shouted. ‘The tenancy of this farm belongs to my brother, Tom Skinner. I be minding it until he gets his strength back.’
‘Tom Skinner’s almost dead meat and your man’s deserted you,’ Jed Hawkins said callously. ‘The farm’s going to rack and ruin and the squire wants you gone. You have until the end of the week. If I come back and find you on the property after that I’ll have you charged with trespass and thrown in the watch house.’
‘It’s the doing of that ungrateful wife of his,’ Hannah whined to herself after he left. ‘After all the kindness us Skinners showed her, taking her in and making her one of the family.’
She picked up a boning knife and went out to slaughter the pigs and chickens. The butcher would give her good money for the carcasses once they were trimmed – and no questions asked.
Two days later, Abbie Ponsonby saw Hannah move through the village with her bundle on her back, then she and her husband, Rudd, borrowed the undertaker’s cart, loaded their worldly goods onto it and moved into the farm. None of the villagers lent her a hand. She was known to have the squire’s ear now, and although they didn’t begrudge her the good fortune, they resented the sly way she’d gone about getting it.
Croxley Farm had been left almost uninhabitable, Hannah had seen to that. She hadn’t dared set fire to the place, though, as was her original inclination.
The kitchen was splattered with the dried blood and entrails from the slaughtered animals. A door left open had invited the blow flies inside, so maggots crawled on every surface. Chicken feathers were thrown about, mattresses stained, and every surface smeared with stinking substances into which the chicken feathers had stuck.
Abbie Ponsonby recoiled from the mess. Settling her family down in the barn in the charge of the oldest girl, she set pots and kettles to boil on an open fire and rolled up her sleeves.
Sensing the friendlier fate in store than that inflicted on the pigs, the milking cow ambled down from the edge of the forest, lowing painfully as its swollen and leaking udders swung from side to side. The children took turns emptying its burden into a pail, laughing at their good fortune. A cup full of the creamy liquid was handed out to each and the churn fetched from the wagon. The boys set the hens free from their wooden prison to forage for food.
Rudd was given his orders. He and his two eldest sons walked the fields and grubbed some taties and carrots from the earth. They were put to boil in a pot with an onion and some beef dripping for flavour.
Soon, the sound of scrubbing was heard. The laundry tub was put to good use as the mattresses were emptied of straw and the covers put to soak.
Later that night, Abbie Ponsonby gave birth to her ninth child, a boy. The infant slipped easily out of her like a lamb from a ewe. The family gathered round her in the barn, lanterns held aloft. They smiled at the infant, who bawled lustily back at his welcoming committee.
‘He’s a right bonny lad,’ Rudd said, beaming proudly at all his bonny lads and lasses. ‘What shall us call him, then?’
‘He must be named after the squire,’ Abbie said firmly. ‘For the man must be honoured for giving our family a decent roof over us heads.’
Hannah slept behind a hedge that night. In the morning she set out for the infirmary. It was the first time she’d seen her brother since the accident. She shuddered at his scarred, pig-like face, at the smell rising from his stump.
His eyes gleamed malevolently from the ruins of his face.
‘Squire has given the tenancy of Croxley Farm to the Ponsonbys,’ she told him. ‘It’s Siana who did this to us. If she hadn’t taken up with the squire he would have married that Isabelle. Then Ben wouldn’t have left me. They took my little George with them as well. Turned him against his own ma, she has.’ Self-pitying tears sprang to her eyes. ‘I’m going to pay that blubber-cheeks back for what she’s done, just see if I don’t.’
Tom didn’t know who she was talking about. It didn’t really matter. He’d take his revenge on them all now he had Hannah to help him. What’s more, he’d found a way of getting in and out of the infirmary at night. But he needed help, and if he didn’t start taking his revenge soon, he never would. The doc had brought him a peg leg and crutch to practise on, but Tom knew there was nothing more the man could do for him. He could smell the rot forming in his own stump.
He beckoned his sister forward and snuffled, ‘There’s a few people I’ve got to settle a score with too. That wife of mine to start with. But we needs a horse and cart for I can’t walk far.’
‘Our Josh has got the mule from the farm, and a right fancy rig to go with it.’
‘I ain’t going near that damned mule unless it’s to slit its poxy throat. Josh wouldn’t let us have it anyway. There’s plenty of work horses in the fields this warm weather. One should carry us both.’
‘Josh is living with Elizabeth in Poole now, I hears.’
‘That hoity-toity madam has set herself up in a fancy shop. Where she got the money from, that’s what I want to know.’
And as Hannah let all the venom pour out of her, Tom sucked it into his brain to add to the cesspool of his own discontent.
Siana soon realized that, although Edward adored her, the majority of the staff treated her with an air of disdain. They were polite, so she could not complain to Edward about rudeness, but they were slow to obey any requests she made. Sometimes, they were ignored altogether. Refreshment ordered often didn’t arrive or, when it did, it was so late the tea was lukewarm and the accompanying food stale.
The animosity stemmed from the housekeeper, Mrs Pawley, who seemed to regard her position in the household as inviolable, and went to great lengths to let Siana know it.
‘I was personal maid to the squire’s first wife,’ she said one day. ‘She was as well bred and as beautiful as the day was long. Sir Edward loved her truly. When their infant died she sickened from grief and eventually died herself. He kept her room as a shrine to her memory until recently. I’m surprised he put you in that room.’
‘Why shouldn’t he when I’m his wife?’ she reminded the woman.
Ethel Pawley shrugged. ‘There are those who say you remind him of her. I say, blood will out. Sometimes I goes up to the attic to look at her portrait. There’s a wide gulf between those born to a life of luxury and those who ape their betters.’
‘I’m not aping anyone. I didn’t even know the woman.’
‘Sometimes I can feel Lady Patricia’s presence, all sad and lonely. She was jealous of any woman the squire looked at twice. She had the madness in her. Be careful her ghost doesn’t come creeping in to harm you when you be asleep.’
Remembering the bars on her windows, cold crept up Siana’s spine at the malice in the woman’s voice. ‘Bes
t you remember you’re a servant, Mrs Pawley.’
‘Oh, the squire won’t get rid of me, Lady Forbes. I’ve bin here too long.’
‘Edward,’ she said to him the same evening. ‘I don’t feel comfortable with the bars on my windows. It feels like I’m in a prison cell. Can they be removed?’
He subjected her to an astute scrutiny. ‘Have the servants been gossiping?’
‘They resent me, I think.’
‘Of course they resent you, but you must learn to handle them. Make an example of one if need be.’ Picking up her hand, he turned it over to kiss the pulse at her wrist. She felt it leap against his mouth. ‘You’re being fanciful, Siana mine. The bars were put there to prevent Patricia from harming herself, not to keep her in. Had she not been ill, there would have been no need for them.’
‘And we would not now be man and wife.’
‘That’s true, my dear. I would be in the unenviable position of being in love with you and not being able to do anything about it.’ He pulled her onto his lap, gazing into her eyes in a way that suggested he could see into her very soul. ‘Do you doubt that I adore you?’
She smiled. ‘How can I doubt it when the inclination to prove it is so strong in you? You are a lion who has conquered me completely.’
He chuckled. ‘It’s flattering for a man of my age to be complimented on his prowess. You are a delight. Tonight, this lion will take his little cat into his lair and make her purr with pleasure. It will be a very different experience, I promise.’
And a very exciting one, as she found out later.
The housekeeper wasn’t going to make things easy for Siana, mistress of the manor or not.
‘She bain’t be no lady, that’s for sure,’ Ethel told her sister Agnes. ‘Not only do she be a peasant girl, she be a bastard and all, and not the virginal bride she was supposed to be. I took a look at the sheets the day after her wedding night. Not a trace of blood to be seen. She’d bin had afore, that one.’
A few days later Agnes was in her usual begging corner when she heard footsteps coming along the pavement and saw the blurred outline of a woman – a maid by the looks of her. ‘I can tell thee the latest gossip from the manor for a ha’penny piece,’ she crooned.
