by Iris Gower
‘Sarah,’ his voice was muffled, ‘what do you think you are doing?’
She sat up and looked at him as he stood beside her, his face almost comical in its dismay.
‘I want us to have another child, Geoffrey,’ she said without preamble. ‘Jack needs a brother or a sister. It’s not right that he should be an only child. He’ll be lonely, you must see that.’
‘Sarah,’ Geoffrey turned away from her, ‘I can’t, I just can’t, you know how I feel.’ He sank down beside her. ‘I love Chas. He’s everything to me. It would be a betrayal.’
‘You are my husband,’ Sarah’s voice trembled. ‘I’m not asking for your love, Geoffrey, only your child.’ She held out her hand imploringly, ‘You gave me Jack, can’t you give me another baby, Geoffrey, please?’ She heard the note of desperation in her voice and knew that she wanted more than another child. She wanted, needed to be held in a man’s arms, to be made to feel alive again. She was young, too young, to live the life of a nun.
‘I’m sorry,’ Geoffrey’s voice was flat, ‘the answer is no. I can’t, Sarah. You knew what I was from the beginning. You settled for the money and for our son.’
Sarah climbed out of the bed and wound her arms around Geoffrey’s thin shoulders. ‘I’m not so bad, am I?’ she whispered, her mouth against his neck. ‘I’m attractive still, aren’t I?’
Gently, he pushed her away. ‘Of course you are attractive.’ He sounded desperate. ‘You are a beautiful woman but I just can’t pretend to be what I’m not.’
Sarah began to cry then, tears rained down her cheeks, hot, angry, bitter tears that racked her small frame. After a moment, Geoffrey took her in his arms.
‘Look, Sarah, I love you, in a way, but not in the way I love Chas. Try to understand me, won’t you?’ He paused but Sarah was too hurt to speak.
‘I respect you as my wife. You are a wonderful mother to Jack – I couldn’t ask for better but …’
He rose and moved away from her. ‘Don’t cry like that, Sarah. I can’t stand it.’
She couldn’t stop. Now that she’d started, all the pain and frustration of her life of celibacy came pouring out of her.
‘I’ve tried, God knows I’ve tried to be content,’ she said, ‘but I have needs Geoffrey, just as you have needs. I am a woman, my blood is hot. I want loving, Geoffrey and if you don’t give it to me I must find a lover or go mad.’
‘No!’ Geoffrey’s voice was suddenly harsh. ‘You must not take a lover. What would my father think? What about our son if he found out that his mother was a whore?’
‘I am a whore,’ Sarah was suddenly angry. ‘You knew that when you married me. Oh yes, we knew all about each other’s little ways, didn’t we Geoffrey? Except that I didn’t know until I was tied to you by law. You cheated me Geoffrey, you cheated me.’
He was white with anger but he was calm. ‘Very well, if it means that much to you then I will give you another child,’ he said. ‘Fetch me the brandy. Perhaps if I am drunk enough I will be able to betray my true instincts.’
Sarah’s surge of hope faded as quickly as it had come. She knew she didn’t want Geoffrey that way. If he couldn’t bear to make love to her unless he had drink inside him then she didn’t want him.
‘What then, Geoffrey, when you are drunk? Will you put out the light so that you can pretend I am Chas, your precious man-friend?’
‘Sarah,’ Geoffrey’s voice was low, ‘do you have to make it all sound so cheap and sordid?’
‘What you do with Chas is cheap and sordid.’ Sarah moved away from the bed, her humiliation and pain were almost insupportable. ‘I will never come to your bed again, Geoffrey. I will never again beg you to love me.’
‘Sarah,’ he lifted his hand in supplication, ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help the way I am.’
‘Go to hell,’ Sarah said flatly and left his room.
It took Sarah only two weeks to find the man who she deemed suitable to father her child, two weeks of sifting the evidence of all the available men in her circle. She was not looking for love, nor even for a long-term affair. She wanted only to assuage the hurt and pain that Geoffrey’s attitude had built up within her. She needed to banish the look of revulsion on his face, to see again desire and need in the eyes of a virile man. And like a raging thirst, she wanted a child so that she could prove to Geoffrey that even if he didn’t want her, there were those who did.
She smiled to herself as she leaned back in her chair and thought of the man she would soon take to her bed. ‘Look out, Calvin Temple,’ she whispered, ‘you are in for the treat of a lifetime.’
CHAPTER NINE
Arian stood just within the closed doors of Calvin’s library and saw with a heartmelting feeling of concern that he appeared tired and dispirited. He had sent for her, an unusual enough occurrence these days, though the way Bella had framed it, the request for her presence in the library had been more in the way of command.
‘The shipload of calf has not arrived then?’ he asked, not looking at her but playing with a pen, rolling it between his fingers, unaware of the droplets of ink staining his hands.
‘Not yet.’ She paused uncertainly. ‘There’s every likelihood that the company have just made an error, perhaps the calf was delayed at the French docks.’ Arian felt an overwhelming urge to reassure him. ‘Simples is trying his best to sort things out.’
‘Ah, Simples,’ Calvin glanced at her briefly. ‘You trust him, then? I imagined you were not too fond of Mr Simples.’
‘It could be that I have misjudged him,’ Arian said carefully. ‘He certainly seems to be doing his best for me just now.’
‘First impressions can usually be relied upon,’ Calvin’s words were enigmatic and Arian waited for him to continue. ‘On the other hand, it’s only fair to give everyone a chance to prove themselves, one way or the other.’
Arian was a little puzzled by Calvin’s attitude. What was he trying to say? She would have spoken, asked him what he meant but a knock on the door silenced her.
‘Yes, Bella, what is it?’ Calvin spoke impatiently, dropping the pen onto the desk as the maid bobbed a hasty curtsy.
‘It’s a young lady to see you, sir,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Mrs Frogmore, she says her name is but she was Sarah Miller before marriage and a right little minx she was too if …’ Bella’s words died away as Calvin held up his hand.
‘Show her in, Bella,’ he said abruptly. ‘I presume she’s not applying for a position in the household so a character reference is hardly necessary.’
Arian moved towards the door. It seemed her meeting with Calvin was at an end and she had the unsatisfactory feeling that there were things they should have spoken about but had failed to do so.
She glanced with some curiosity at Sarah Frogmore. Arian, too, had heard some of the scandal about the girl’s past but then who was she to judge? She’d been the subject of enough scandal herself and not all of it justified.
She forced herself to smile when she noticed that Sarah’s gown was daringly cut to emphasise her rather splendid figure, and an absurd dart of jealousy pierced her. What did it matter who visited Calvin’s house? It was nothing to do with her and she would be making a fool of herself to think otherwise. Calvin was not bound to her in any way. He was simply her employer, he liked her and trusted her, but nothing more.
Sarah nodded to Arian and paused for a brief moment before sweeping into the library. The door closed and Arian stared at the polished wood panels as if trying to see through them, wondering what was being said within the room. She could think of no reason why Sarah would want to see Calvin; so far as she knew, they had no business contact, no other sort of contact either.
After a moment, she sighed. It was nothing to her, what Sarah Frogmore did or what she wanted with Calvin. In any case, she was probably here on some quite humdrum matter.
Arian smiled softly. Calvin was a law unto himself – he did just what he wished, came and went as he pleased, he had no keeper, needed n
one, asked no-one’s permission, certainly not that of Arian Smale.
She moved away slowly, almost reluctantly. She had work to do, problems of her own to think about and nothing would be cured by standing in the hallway feeling jealous because another woman was shut in a room alone with Calvin Temple. It was about time Arian was honest with herself; she meant nothing to Calvin, her head knew it, she just had trouble convincing her emotions that it was true. She shrugged and mentally shook herself and yet the strange feeling that somehow Calvin was being taken away from her persisted.
When Arian had gone, Sarah faced Calvin and her courage almost failed. ‘May I sit down?’ she asked, glancing up at him standing tall and so very masculine at her side.
‘Please, forgive my rudeness. I was taken by surprise by your beauty.’ He smiled and she was aware that his words were meaningless, spoken lightly in order to put her at her ease, to charm, and charm her they did.
He indicated that she take a seat and she smiled up at him warmly. Honesty, she decided, was going to be the best policy. Calvin Temple was no man’s fool and would not be taken in by feminine wiles.
‘In return for that pretty compliment, may I say that you are more handsome than I’d realized but then we have only met over dinner in other people’s houses.’ She moved restlessly, unwilling to blurt out the reason for her visit. ‘I’m very happy I came to see you.’ She knew she was prevaricating and she saw by his curious glance that he knew it too.
‘And why have you come to see me?’ His question was blunt but his smile still warm and interested. He moved to the table and held up a dazzling cut-glass decanter. ‘May I offer you some claret?’
‘That would be lovely.’ Sarah knew quite well that Calvin had expected her to decline, to ask instead for some tea but she felt she needed a drink to give her courage – her mission now seemed bizarre, almost ridiculous.
When she took the drink from him, she looked up into his face. ‘I have come to ask you a very great favour,’ she said simply. ‘I want a child and I feel it would be a privilege if you would agree to be the father.’
He stared down at her in silence, his eyebrows raised and nervously she rushed on, ‘I can’t have my husband’s baby. I would rather not go into the reasons for that but I assure you it’s the truth. I desperately long for another child and I have been very careful and deliberate in choosing you to be the father.’
‘I’m flattered,’ Calvin’s tone held a touch of derision, ‘but my dear lady, it’s out of the question. We scarcely know each other.’
‘Does that matter?’ Sarah looked up at him beseechingly. ‘I’m not asking you to love me or even to have an affair with me, just lie with me, give me a child. Would that be so difficult a task for you?’ She faced him squarely. ‘Don’t you find me desirable?’
She saw Calvin frown. ‘I’m a red-blooded man. Of course I find you attractive, even beautiful, but to lie with you just to give you a child is out of the question. Don’t you realize what complications that might cause?’
‘There would be no complications,’ Sarah urged. ‘A son or daughter born to me and Geoffrey in wedlock would be seen to be his child. There would be no repercussions for you.’
Calvin shook his head. ‘You must be out of your mind, madam. I’m sorry, it’s impossible, it really is.’
Sarah put down her glass and rose to her feet. ‘Please, don’t give me a flat refusal now, just think it over. Given time, it might not seem such a strange request.’ She went to him and touched his hand, looking up into his face imploringly. ‘I am an experienced woman, I admit I have had more than one lover, and as for you,’ she shrugged, ‘you are estranged from your wife. She is living with another man. We could have a good time together. What would you have to lose?’
She put her finger over his lips as he would have spoken. ‘Don’t say anything now but please, please think about it. You could be the means of bringing me so much happiness.’
She turned away from him before he could protest once more that what she asked was impossible. Awkwardly, she let herself out of the room, aware then that he was striding after her, opening the large front door, smiling down at her, drinking in her appearance. She felt a dart of triumph – there was interest in his eyes. He was susceptible then, after all.
When she was once again outside in the freshness of the day, Sarah fanned her hot cheeks with her hand and a small smile played on her lips. She would best Geoffrey yet. She would have a baby and have the attentions of a fine man into the bargain.
Now that she had spoken with him, been close to him, she was more than ever convinced that Calvin Temple, Lord Temple would be a fine father and a fine lover too. In spite of her high-minded protestations about longing for a baby, Sarah knew that she would be thrilled to be in the arms of a man like Calvin. There was strength of character in every noble line of his face.
She would have her way with Calvin, she felt it in her bones, by hook or by crook she would have him in her bed and then Geoffrey would learn that if he didn’t give her what she wanted then she would take it from someone else.
‘We must go to France.’ Simples was standing looking down at her and Arian felt herself grow tense. ‘There is no other way to secure the load of calf. We must confront the directors of this company, make them honour their obligations. You might have been hasty paying in full.’
‘I know and something has to be done,’ she said. But to go to France with Simples – she couldn’t think of anything worse. She moved to the window of the office and stared out at the waters of the dockside without seeing them.
‘His lordship is in deep trouble as it is, he mustn’t lose any more money. It could prove disastrous.’
Arian doubted the truth of Simples’s words. Calvin had certainly not given her any such impression. And yet his tense look, his open statement that he had made mistakes, perhaps he was in trouble. Either way, she knew that she had no choice in the matter.
‘All right,’ she said, ‘you make all the necessary arrangements Mr Simples and I’ll pack some clothes. We’d better sail as soon as possible.’
Simples left the office quietly and Arian sank down into her chair. The books before her were a mockery, the orders she’d so diligently sought were unfulfilled. Her customers were still waiting for the delivery of leather she had promised so confidently.
She hid her face in her hands and the tears, so hot and angry, burned her lids. She would not cry, she told herself fiercely. Crying was for weaklings not for the likes of Arian Smale. She sat up straight in her chair and squared her shoulders. Crying did no good at all, she’d found that out a long time ago. But then it was easy to be hard when there was no-one on earth she cared for. Now she cared about Calvin she couldn’t hurt him.
Later, she stood in her room in Stormhill and looked around at the familiar drapes, the ornate black fireplace, the pretty flowered tiles that surrounded the grate, and signed. She felt she was leaving a safe haven and going out into the world where all was uncertain.
She placed the letter of explanation she had written Calvin on the mantelpiece and, after a moment’s hesitation took up her bag and left her room, closing the door carefully behind her.
She had not faced Calvin with her plans for the trip to France for obvious reasons; he would ask questions and not only would he disapprove of her travelling with Simples but she would have to confess that she knew of Calvin’s financial problems.
Calvin would be generous, he would urge her to forget the calf, he would doubtless insist that he could bear the loss without too much trouble but she would not allow that – she had made the blunder, she would put it right.
Simples was waiting for her at the back door. He too, had a bag in his hand and he was smartly dressed in a dark suit and a high-collared shirt. His eyes were approving as they rested on her neat black skirt and coat and the hat pulled down over her brow.
‘The Marie Clare sails at midnight,’ Simples said, ‘an unearthly hour I know but the captain h
as to obey the tide tables.’ He smiled, ‘Not even the redoubtable master of the Marie Clare can alter the rhythms of the sea.’
Arian was in no mood for humour so she led the way out of the house and began to walk briskly down the drive. Simples went quickly back into the house, then caught her up and walked beside her. She knew it must appear most odd to the servants. The idea of a young lady going off alone with a man on a journey to foreign lands was so outlandish to a girl like Bella that she just wouldn’t understand the motives behind such a venture. Mrs Bob, with her common-sense attitude would probably tell Arian she was being all sorts of a fool, warn that she would be the subject of a great deal of gossip in the servants’ quarters.
Arian shrugged. It would not be the first time or the last that tongues had wagged behind her back.
‘Come along, Miss Smale. We can get on board and make ourselves comfortable, at least.’
She walked with Gerald Simples towards the docklands in silence, very conscious of the man at her side. She felt her instinctive distrust of him rise up within her and she wondered at her madness in accompanying him to a foreign country.
She was tempted, for a moment, to turn back to Stormhill before it was too late but the thought of Calvin’s worried expression prevented her and doggedly, she went onward towards the waiting ship.
The Marie Clare was set to ride on the rising tide, an old creaking vessel, three masts pointing skyward, beautified by the moonlight that streaked across the bay from Mumbles Head to the jutting arm of the Swansea pier. Arian felt a catch in her breath – she hadn’t realized how much she loved her homeland until she was about to leave its shores.
‘Take my hand, Miss Smale,’ Simples said as he mounted the gangway leading up to the side of the barquentine, and as it seemed churlish to refuse, Arian allowed him to help her upwards above the dark waters of the dock and onto the lilting deck of the ship.
