Arian

by Iris Gower

  ‘I knows that, but who’d have thought he’d have set up one of them fast and loose ladies? Put her in a lovely house, so I hear, pays her rent and all. A proper beauty she is, too, by all accounts but no better than she should be if you asks me.’

  Arian sank back in her chair. She felt as though she’d been slapped. Calvin Temple with a courtesan – it didn’t seem possible. And yet why not? Why shouldn’t he pay for his pleasures? He could afford it. And wasn’t that the way most men took their women?

  ‘There’s talk that she’s a widow woman,’ Bella cut in. ‘Knows how to pleasure the gents in the bedroom. I bet she’s not a lady in the sheets,’ she sniffed. ‘I thought better than that of his lordship.’

  ‘Hush now,’ Mrs Bob said curtly. ‘A man’s different to us women, got to have his way, like, when it comes to the ladies, otherwise they fall sick and die.’

  God knows where Mrs Bob had heard that one, Arian thought bitterly, but she was not far wrong. A man, it seemed was ruled by his sexual appetites to the point of losing all his senses.

  ‘Come on, girl, you’re just picking at your food,’ Mrs Bob said. ‘Not sickening for something are you?’

  ‘I’m well, thank you,’ Arian said. ‘I’m just shocked, that’s all.’

  ‘I know,’ Mrs Bob said confidingly. ‘Like me and Bella here, you thought the master was above all that sort of nonsense.’ She shrugged. ‘But seems he’s not and we’ve just got to accept that it’s none of our business.’

  Mr Simples entered the kitchen and the silence that descended on the women was almost tangible. Simples smiled.

  ‘I see you have heard the news, Miss Smale,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to be the one to tell you that your idol had feet of clay, but it’s just as well you know the truth.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Arian rose from her chair and moved to the door. She paused, staring at Gerald Simples. ‘I have no illusions at all about men – those were taken away from me long ago.’

  ‘I understand,’ Simples said smiling. ‘I suppose you can even sympathize with this … this lady, the one his lordship has taken up with. After all, you both are what I would call experienced in the ways of the world and of men.’ He paused as Arian gritted her teeth. ‘The only difference between you and this courtesan, as I see it, is that she has the wit to make a good living from her way of life while you…’ He left the sentence unfinished and Arian, losing control, hit out at him blindly.

  He caught her wrist easily and held it so tightly that his nails dug into her flesh.

  ‘Now, now, Miss Smale, your conduct is unbecoming to your position. You are acting more like a fishwife than a respectable woman. But then,’ he paused, ‘as they say, breeding, or the lack of it, will out.’

  Arian wrenched her hand away from his grip and hurried up the stairs, her heart thumping. She was angry with Simples. The more she saw of him the more she disliked him. His resemblance to Price Davies had increased; some mannerisms, and sometimes the twist of his head would send her spirits plunging into the depths of despairing memories. But even Price, animal though he was, had not had the power to fire barbs of speech that would find their mark with such cruel precision.

  At the entrance to the hallway, she collided with a tall masculine figure and was held for a moment in sheltering arms.

  ‘Arian, what on earth is it?’ Calvin Temple stood looking down at her white face and wide eyes and it was clear that he felt genuine concern.

  Arian forced herself to breath evenly. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, ‘nothing I can’t handle myself.’

  ‘I saw Simples going below stairs,’ Calvin persisted. ‘Has the man done something to offend you?’

  ‘No, it’s nothing,’ Arian protested. ‘I’m all right, really. It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with.’

  Calvin’s arms dropped away from her as if he had suddenly become conscious that he was holding her. ‘If there is anything, anything at all troubling you, please feel free to come to me,’ he said.

  Arian looked at him, seeing him as though for the first time. Calvin was a fine upstanding man, tall and handsome with a charm about him that most women would find irresistible. Most women, including herself.

  ‘Excuse me.’ She moved away and stood for a moment staring at him.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked and Arian shook her head.

  ‘It’s nothing.’ Lifting her skirts she hurried up the two flights of stairs to her room.

  She sat on the bed for a long time, facing something that she had concealed from herself for weeks now. She was in love with Calvin Temple. She might not have known it, but Simples had realized it at once. And if he could, he would use the knowledge to his advantage, there was no doubt about that.

  Arian wished that she could cry, but she was past crying. She had cried away all her tears a long time ago. In dry-eyed misery she stared into the flames of the dying fire until the clock in the hall chimed out the midnight hour.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Arian pushed the books aside with an impatient movement and rose to her feet, this was getting her nowhere. However much she studied the figures, she could make the result no different – there was a discrepancy of almost five guineas.

  Simples entered the office and stood in the middle of the room, his hands thrust into his pockets. He was almost good looking, Arian thought, except that there was a slyness at the back of his eyes.

  ‘You wanted to see me, Miss Smale?’ His tone indicated that he hoped she wasn’t wasting his valuable time.

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid I did,’ she replied. ‘I would like you to go over the figures for last month.’

  ‘Last month? But that’s all been taken care of by Mrs Richards. I thought we had decided to allow her to resume responsibility for the books. Your job, as I see it, was to supervise the allocation of money for various services to do with the household, the servants’ wages, the buying of new bedding, and so on.’

  ‘We did,’ Arian agreed, ‘but I thought it appropriate that I still check the books.’

  ‘And?’ he asked impatiently.

  ‘And I found a discrepancy, quite a big one. There is a loss of five guineas and I can’t understand what’s happening here.’ She paced about the room. ‘Normally, as you know, an error is easy to spot but in this case, there’s been an attempt to cover up the loss. It’s a deliberate attempt to defraud, I’m afraid.’

  ‘And you think Mrs Richards is sharp enough to arrange a blatant fraud? Because that’s what you are implying.’

  Arian shrugged. ‘I just don’t know what to think. Please look at the books yourself. It would help.’

  Simples picked up the book and tucked it under his arm. ‘I will deal with it later, when I have time. After all, it isn’t a major problem is it?’

  Arian was surprised by his attitude, she had summed him up as a stickler for detail. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’ She spoke uncertainly and Simples gave her an oblique look.

  ‘You do trust me with the books don’t you, Miss Smale?’ his voice was edged with sarcasm.

  Arian bit her lip. She knew Calvin was trusting Simples with the handling of his huge estate. Simples was dealing with the running of the parklands and there was talk among the servants that he might even be advising Lord Temple regarding his business investments, so it was scarcely likely that he would be very much concerned with a mere household discrepancy.

  ‘Please, don’t give it another thought.’ She held out her hand for the book. ‘I realize now that you are far too busy to concern yourself with such small details. I shouldn’t have troubled you.’

  ‘Well that’s as may be, but now that you have,’ he spoke acidly, ‘it’s my duty to look into the matter.’

  Arian bit her lip. She felt foolish for having involved him in what was, after all, her responsibility. But it was too late to change her mind, he was walking away from her, the book snugly under his arm and she had no choice but to watch him go.

  She sank down at the desk
and rubbed at her eyes. She had probably overlooked something quite minor and obvious, some expenditure that was wrongly documented perhaps, a figure put in the wrong column, an addition where there should have been a subtraction. She wished now that she had given herself longer to study the books. She should never have called Simples in; it gave him the ideal opportunity to infer she was not up to the job.

  Arian imagined his scorn when he spotted the error, for error it undoubtedly was. As he had said, Mrs Richards would hardly be experienced enough or clever enough to handle a deliberate fraud.

  Today was her day off. She intended to compile some notes on the leather trade, send out some letters – in short, begin to put some irons in the fire. She still harboured the hope that she might be able to set up in business on her own before very long. In the meantime, she might just as well enjoy her day off from Calvin’s business.

  She shook the ink from her pen before setting it down and tidied the scatter of papers on her desk. She stretched her arms above her head and wondered if she should spend her leisure time in the fresh air.

  She was fortunate, she mused, that she had so much time off. In that Calvin was generous. Arian was given one free day a week instead of once a month as were most servants. But then she was not, strictly speaking, a servant. What was she? A charity case, a girl Calvin had taken in out of pity?

  Oh, damnation to Calvin Temple and to Gerald Simples and to the cash books; all this was not really her problem. She would go out to town, visit the boot and shoe emporiums of the Grenfells and the Millers, see if she could find out who were the suppliers of leather to the big businesses.

  It was high time she was making some sort of move. She was becoming too comfortable at Stormhill, too complacent. She had her ambitions and if she did not nurture them, they would wither and die before she had the chance to see if she could make them work.

  In her room she dressed in her new coat and placed the velvet hat upon her silver-gold hair with a grimace of displeasure. She looked so ordinary, almost respectable. The word made her smile with wry humour. Arian Smale, respectable – that was a new twist to her life.

  She left the house by the back door. These days it was never quite clear to her what was her station in life. Once she had been the daughter of a landowner, a man who had also owned the Cambrian newspaper. Robert Smale, though dissolute, had once been considered a cut above the lower orders. She squared her shoulders. One day, Arian Smale would be a person in her own right. Then she would use no-one’s back door.

  It was to Arian’s surprise and gratification that she found in Craig Grenfell an enthusiastic listener. She had entered purposely though the large entrance to the Grenfell emporium and had found him supervising the delivery of a new batch of leather. The skins were being stored in the cellars below the building and there, Arian learned, the whole floor had been converted into a gigantic store and workshop.

  ‘You are a friend of Hari’s aren’t you?’ Craig asked. Arian didn’t hear him, she was fingering a piece of leather with such concentration that he had to repeat the question.

  ‘I can’t claim to be a friend,’ she replied seriously. ‘I have met Hari of course, and I know of her reputation. Who in the shoe business doesn’t? I admire her tremendously and only wish I had a quarter of her gifts.’

  Craig thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘And are you in the leather business?’ He smiled down at her and Arian warmed to him. He was a gentleman, a wealthy man and yet he was prepared to give her some of his time.

  ‘I know a little about good leather,’ Arian said, ‘and while much of this stock is fine enough, a few shoddy skins have been put in with the good to make up the load. You are being short-changed and I’d suggest you take the matter up with the supplier. Mrs Grenfell has a wonderful reputation but some bad leather would soon damage that.’

  ‘I see,’ Craig said slowly. ‘And you could pick out these skins for me, could you?’

  ‘Well, it would take some time to go through the load,’ Arian said doubtfully, ‘but it could be done, certainly.’

  ‘And you could do it?’ Craig persisted.

  Arian lifted her head and looked at him. He was a fine man, broad of shoulder and clear of eye. Hari was a fortunate woman in more ways than one.

  ‘Yes,’ she smiled. ‘I would be delighted. I can begin on it today, if you like.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ he eyed her good clothes. ‘You are hardly dressed for it.’ He put his head on one side thoughtfully. ‘How would you like to work for me on a regular basis?’ he said. ‘My buyer is talking about retiring soon, perhaps his eye-sight isn’t as good as it used to be or his sense of touch. I shall need someone to take over from him.’

  ‘You know nothing about me,’ Arian said quietly. ‘Why should you give me a job?’

  ‘I do know a little about you, I read the papers and I hear gossip – it’s inevitable in a town like Swansea.’

  ‘And you are not put off by what you’ve heard?’ Arian asked, the colour rising to her cheeks.

  ‘I take a person on trust until they prove otherwise,’ Craig said evenly.

  Arian was silent for a while. She smelled the leather, heard from the large workshop next door the clatter of machines and knew that this was where she belonged.

  ‘I’ll have to speak to Lord Temple,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll ask him to release me from my position in his household. I’m sure he’ll agree.’

  Of course he would, Arian mused. He would probably be happy to be free of the responsibility of her. He had taken her in out of pity and she was grateful for that but now she had become a useless part of his household. There was no real position there for her and they both knew it.

  Craig smiled and his eyes creased at the corners, he really was a most attractive man. And he was happily married, a state she envied. He was a man she could like if never love.

  Though he was far above her socially she was charmed by him. He didn’t act as though he was superior, but then, to a man like Craig Grenfell, social standing was not a matter of great importance. Hadn’t he married Hari who was from the lower orders?

  When she left the cellar, her thoughts were in chaos. She knew it was time she branched out, took charge of her own destiny and yet the thought of leaving Calvin’s house depressed her. Then she would never see him, never be close to him. Perhaps that was just as well – he did have a mistress now, she reminded herself.

  Arian wandered round the emporium and once caught sight of Hari Grenfell as she swept through the first floor, her glossy hair framing her face, her eyes bright and interested in everything she saw. Arian found herself envying Hari in a way she hadn’t believed possible. She had found her way in life with unwavering persistence. She had a fine business, a great talent and the most handsome wonderful husband. Did any woman deserve such fortune?

  Arian returned to Stormhill at last, just as the sunlight was dying behind the trees. Even as she entered the back door, she sensed an atmosphere that was far from peaceful. Something had happened while she’d been out and Arian couldn’t help but feel a sharp drop in her spirits. She knew instinctively that whatever had occurred, it somehow involved her.

  In the kitchen, Mrs Bob was sitting at the big table pouring tea. At her side Mrs Richards was sobbing into a handkerchief, her eyes red, her whole frame shaking.

  ‘What is it?’ Arian asked. ‘What’s happened?’ She saw the two women look up startled and then Mrs Bob was gesturing for her to sit down.

  ‘There’s been that much rowing going on by here,’ she said. ‘His lordship asking questions about the accounts and upsetting poor Mrs Richards and that horrible Simples blaming everyone but himself.’

  Arian felt her heart sink. It was about the missing money, the error she had found had obviously been reported to Calvin Temple.

  ‘What did his lordship say?’ Arian sank down into the wooden chair and rested her arms on the table. ‘Did he blame anyone, me perhaps?’

  ‘No, b
less you.’ Mrs Bob shook her head and a tendril of greying hair fell over her forehead. ‘No, he says it must be a mistake, he don’t think none of us could be dishonest.’

  ‘You are not under suspicion,’ Mrs Richards said to the cook. ‘It’s me and Arian here who will be held responsible. It’ll be too awful if we can’t prove a mistake has been made. No good house will ever take us if we’re dismissed under a cloud.’

  ‘I’ll speak to his lordship,’ Arian rose to her feet. ‘I’ll convince him that it’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just an error in the figuring.’

  ‘That man Simples says it’s no mistake,’ Mrs Bob said. ‘It’s a clever way of pinching the money from his lordship, that’s what he says.’

  Arian felt suddenly cold. In that case, the blame could only fall on herself. Calvin would know, just as Simples did, that Mrs Richards was not capable of such a blatant fraud. As it was Simples who had reported the matter, he could hardly be a suspect. No, it was she who would be accountable.

  Calvin Temple, as it turned out, had company and Simples barred Arian’s way when she would have knocked on the drawing room door.

  ‘I must see his lordship,’ Arian insisted quietly. ‘I must try to clear up some of the misapprehensions you’ve put into his mind.’

  ‘I did my duty, nothing more, nothing less,’ Simples said smoothly. ‘It was you who brought the matter into the open. What did you expect me to do, keep quiet about it?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Arian protested. ‘It’s just that you gave me the impression the matter wasn’t pressing. As it is, you’ve put me in a bad light.’

  ‘And how do you come to that conclusion?’ Simples asked. ‘Three of us handle the books; Mrs Richards, you and my good self. On reflection, the matter needed to be investigated and the sooner the better, don’t you think so?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Arian said doubtfully. Gerald Simples’s words were so reasonable, she felt more than a little foolish in questioning his behaviour. ‘Still,’ she persisted, ‘by reporting the error yourself, it looks as though you were the one to find it. That seems to me underhand to say the least.’