Arian

by Iris Gower

  ‘I hope you won’t feel sea-sick,’ Simples said, releasing her hand, ‘but in any case, the coast of France is not very far away.’

  No-one seemed around to greet them and Arian followed as Simples led her across the gently moving deck towards the upper deck.

  ‘You wait here,’ he said as he made his way across the sloping boards, ‘I’ll find the master.’

  She watched him for a moment and then glanced back at the shore almost with a sense of unreality. What was she doing here in the darkness on a strange ship, trusting herself with a man like Simples, crossing the sea to a foreign country? She shivered, and yet some stirring of excitement began to filter into her mind. This was an adventure, she told herself. A visit to a foreign land was something that most people never experienced in a lifetime. Arian knew she would have enjoyed it had it been someone, anyone, by her side other than Simples.

  He reappeared after a few moments and gestured for her to follow him. Simples led the way below, negotiating the steps easily and waited for her to join him. She felt embarrassed, her skirts rising so that her legs were revealed but Gerald Simples didn’t appear to notice. He opened a door and gestured towards a small cabin.

  ‘You can wait in here out of the weather,’ he said. ‘The master thinks there’s going to be a bit of a squall but nothing to worry about.’

  Arian didn’t like the way Simples was taking charge and yet what could she say? He was clearly trying to be as helpful as possible and his attitude was one of remote deference. It was almost as though they were strangers.

  She looked around and saw by the charts spread out on the table that this was the captain’s own cabin. She sank into a chair and put her face in her hands. She wished she was back at Stormhill with Calvin Temple sleeping in the room near by, within easy reach should she need him.

  But she had to prove to him that she knew what she was doing. She couldn’t allow him to think she’d failed at the first obstacle fate put in her way. Calvin had trusted her with his money, that was something it would pay her to remember. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would do her level best to sort out the matter of the missing supply of calf, and would either fetch the load home with her or somehow recoup the money she had spent. She was determined on it.

  The ship seemed to heave into motion, and there was, quite suddenly, a feeling of activity. The sounds came from the deck above of sailors calling to each other, the creaking of the timbers increased alarmingly and the ship plunged like a live creature as the sails cracked in the wind. They were on their way to France, and there was no turning back now. She was in the hands of Gerald Simples and she had no alternative but to trust him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘I don’t know where they’ve gone, sir, but both of them have just vanished. Spirited away, they’ve been.’

  Calvin looked at Bella with a sense of irritation, knowing that the maid was revelling in this latest piece of gossip.

  ‘Was there no message for me?’ He tried to keep his voice even but within him there was a turmoil of feelings he could not explain. There was anger, yes but there was also a sense of outrage that Arian Smale would go away without a word and with a man she professed to dislike.

  ‘No message, sir.’ Bella remembered with a dart of unease, seeing Simples in Arian’s room, tearing a piece of paper to shreds but it couldn’t have been of any importance, could it?

  ‘Very well, Bella, you may go,’ Calvin said, turning away from the avid interest in the girl’s eyes. He heard the door close and leaned back in his chair trying to reason with the chaotic thoughts that filled his mind. Why should he worry what Arian Smale did? And yet, he felt betrayed.

  Was it possible she joined Simples in embezzling funds from him? Calvin clenched his teeth together. He had put considerable resources at Arian’s disposal. So far there had been no sign of any return for the money, even the supply of calf had failed to materialize.

  His instincts told him that Arian was no crook, nor that she cared for Simples enough to do a deal with him and then abscond with the proceeds. There must be some simple explanation for the disappearance of both Arian and his steward, it was just that at this moment he couldn’t think of anything plausible.

  He’d had his doubts about Simples for some time. There was no denying that the man’s advice so far on money matters had been anything but sound. Calvin could stand the losses – the bulk of his fortune was secure and the amount of money he had invested in Simples’s schemes had been small – nevertheless, there was something underhand going on and he intended to find out what it was. The losses couldn’t all be put down to the fluctuations of the market.

  He rose to his feet, feeling suddenly restless. He wondered if he should go to see Daphne, spend a few hours in her warm arms and forget Arian Smale. He hesitated. Daphne was an exciting woman but she was very demanding, almost overbearing; sometimes she could be almost tiresome. Lately he felt she was beginning to get bored of his company – she sometimes turned from his arms with impatience. That was not the relationship he wanted with his paramour. Indeed, did he want a paramour at all? Wouldn’t he much prefer the arms of the fragile, independent Arian Smale?

  He laughed without humour. He was like a love-sick juvenile, not knowing quite what it was he wanted but with an itch that needed to be scratched. He somehow felt jaundiced with the whole of womankind; they used a man and then, when the whim took them, betrayed him as thoughtlessly as they would cast aside a used garment.

  He returned to his desk and with an act of deliberation drew his unopened mail towards him. He should occupy his mind with other things. Women; how they could hurt and anger if they so chose.

  One envelope revealed a scented piece of note paper containing a brief message from Daphne. It seemed she would be unable to see him for a little while, ‘other matters’ needed her attention. Another lover no doubt.

  The final letter held news of his divorce. Soon, he would be a free man. Free – that was ironic. He moved to the sideboard and poured a large measure of brandy.

  Sarah walked into the hallway of Stormhill not seeing the elegant staircase nor the haughty-faced young maid who had admitted her. Her heart was beating swiftly and a pulse in her throat seemed to throb with a life of its own. She could hardly believe her own temerity. She had been turned away from Calvin’s home once, would he reject her again? Well whatever the outcome, she had to make one last-ditch attempt to get her own way.

  He was seated on a large chaise longue and Sarah had forgotten how handsome he was, how lean of hip and broad of shoulder, and Sarah caught herself looking him over as though he was a prize stallion. The irony of her thoughts was not lost on her.

  She paused, savouring the moment, thinking how wonderful it would be to he with a real man again, to be desired, caressed, brought to fulfilment.

  ‘Come in, dear lady, come in. Very good timing on your part, I’d say.’ He sounded a little drunk, and suddenly she felt triumph build within her.

  Within the drawing room the drapes were discreetly drawn against the afternoon sunlight. On the table stood a half-empty bottle of fine brandy.

  ‘Make yourself at home,’ Calvin said making a grandiose gesture of his arm, ‘while I pour us a drink.’ He filled two glasses and handed one to her and then smiled for the first time.

  ‘How nice to see you,’ he said with more than a touch of irony in his voice. She felt he was laughing at her but she didn’t care. Her senses were alert to him, she wanted him and by God she was going to have him.

  He didn’t wait for her to speak, but replenished her glass which she realized with a sense of surprise she had emptied in one gulp.

  She sat beside him and stared at him, mesmerized as she lifted the glass to her lips. The drink seemed to give her back some of her confidence and with an easy movement, she removed her coat. She knew she was looking her best, the bodice of her gown was cut low to reveal the swell of her breasts and she saw Calvin’s involuntary glance pause
at her neckline.

  ‘Very charming,’ he said softly and then, deliberately, he put down his glass and leaned towards her.

  Sarah took a deep breath as he took the glass from her hand and bent over her, his mouth warm against the cleavage between her breasts. Her breathing became ragged as desire filled her. She needed a virile man, she knew that, she had always known it and subjugating her natural instincts had not come easy to her.

  She put her arm around him and pressed him to her, her hand sliding down between his thighs. She sighed with satisfaction, knowing that he was roused.

  Sarah wanted to tear off her clothes, to feel him penetrate her willing flesh. She wanted to moan with ecstasy beneath him, to make up for all the long months of her celibacy. And yet she was wary of this man, he was an unknown quantity to her. Calvin Temple was not a man to be manipulated as all the rest of her lovers had been – he was in control, he would call the tune and she would obey him.

  He emptied his glass and she watched him impatiently. His eyes mocked her – he knew she wanted him and he was making her wait, almost as though he was taking some sort of revenge.

  She saw his hand open the buttons of his shirt and she licked her dry lips. She felt she would die if he didn’t take her quickly.

  He stood before her quite naked, magnificent in his manhood then he came to her and began to undress her with almost casual haste. For a moment she felt like a whore.

  She closed her eyes as he pressed her back against the cushions. She felt his hands begin to thrill and tease her. Her bodice tore as he caressed her breasts, then he roughly pushed at her skirts and she gasped with shock and pleasure. She arched her back, silently begging him to come to her, to possess her.

  When he joined with her, she cried out and sliding her hands over his strong buttocks, pressed him closer. She moaned as he moved slowly at first, teasing, bewitching. Then she was lost in the thrill of the moment, her senses reeling, her nerves tingling as his movements increased in urgency.

  The magic seemed to go on and on, the delight that he was giving her she would have killed for. She flung back her head and heard her voice, unrecognizable, crying out in joy. She clung to his broadness now, crying tears of happiness, her body floating on a tide of released tension. She was fulfilled.

  She stayed with him in his room all night, not even giving a thought to her son. Geoffrey was nothing if not a good father – he might be worried about her but his child would come first.

  She roused herself from a languor of happy exhaustion to see Calvin standing with his back to her, already dressed. Hearing her movements he turned to look at her as though he’d never seen her before.

  ‘There will be a carriage outside waiting to take you there. Good-bye, Sarah.’

  When he left the room, she stared at the door in disbelief. He couldn’t have just walked out on her, he couldn’t. She needed him, for God’s sake.

  She rose and dressed with trembling hands, and pausing, she looked at herself in the mirror. For all that he had gone, left her as a man leaves a whore, she had only gratitude in her heart for Calvin Temple. He had made her feel like a woman again, a whole, red-blooded woman.

  She sighed heavily. Perhaps it was her lot in life never to find the love of a fine man like Calvin. She had Geoffrey’s regard and loyalty up to a point – she had his ring on her finger – but there was such a lot she had given up for that privilege.

  It was only when the carriage which Calvin had ordered for her jerked to a halt outside her own home did doubts and worries assail her. What would Geoffrey say about her long absence? She drew a deep breath as she alighted in her own driveway. What could he say? He had his own peccadilloes and he could hardly begrudge her one small fling.

  He was not at home when she entered the house and Sarah questioned the maid with a thoroughness which nevertheless left her with very little information. Geoffrey, it seemed, had gone out early taking their son with him and had not said when he would be back.

  Sarah bathed at her leisure, luxuriating in the hot scented water, thinking of the past hours spent with Calvin. How she had enjoyed their love-making. She began to make plans. Even if she were to have caught for a baby, why reveal that to Calvin? She could ask him to spend more time with her, just to make certain that she had achieved her goal.

  She smiled to herself. In spite of his abrupt departure, she was sure that Calvin Temple had enjoyed their encounter as much as she had. Otherwise why stay with her for such a long time?

  It was only later as she dined alone at the long candle-lit table, that Sarah began to really worry about Geoffrey and more so about Jack. It was late for the little boy to be out. He was normally in bed long before this.

  She ignored the curious looks of the servants as they brought her food. She had very little time for the people Geoffrey had hired. They were his responsibility, he saw to their wages and ensured that they performed their duties. Sarah, for her part took it all for granted. She was meant to be waited on, meant to be pampered. Had she not given her husband the son he wanted so badly?

  Night came and there was still no sign of Geoffrey or their child. Sarah called the housekeeper and spent an entire hour with her but the woman could add nothing more to what the maid had said earlier.

  She spent a restless night wondering where Geoffrey could be. Had he taken their son to visit his grandfather, old Mr Frogmore, who doted on Jack? But no, Geoffrey would have had to explain the absence of his wife and he would never show the old man that there might be any sort of rift between them.

  Anger poured through her like wine. Geoffrey must have taken Jack to the flat he provided for his paramour. The thought of Jack in the same room as Chas set her teeth on edge, and jealousy flared through her, an unreasoning jealousy of the man her husband loved. What if her husband had gone for good?

  She punched the pillows wishing she had Geoffrey here so that she could rant and rave at him, call him all the foul names under the sun, threaten to expose him to his father. She fell back in the bed, relief flowing over her. Of course, Geoffrey would have to come home – he needed his father’s approbation and would do nothing to anger the old man, not while he held the purse strings.

  In the morning, Geoffrey called early and Sarah was subjected to the indignity of being summoned to his presence in her dressing robe.

  He looked at her coldly. ‘I take it you have found yourself a lover,’ he said and it was not a question. ‘I have expected this for some time and have made provision for it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sarah asked, lifting her head high, feeling that perhaps she had been too sure of her power over him.

  ‘I have taken my son to live with me,’ he said. ‘You may keep this establishment. I will make you an allowance but I will not live with you any longer.’

  ‘You can’t take Jack to live with Chas,’ Sarah said angrily. ‘I will not allow it and neither would your father approve of such an arrangement.’

  ‘I have found a house for Jack and me, and most of the staff will be moved to my new home,’ he said. ‘Chas will have his own apartment in town. He will act as tutor to our son, visiting every day but don’t worry, Sarah, he’s not an evil man and he’s very fond of Jack. He would do him no harm, I do assure you. Chas loves me. Hard as you may find it to accept that possibility, it’s the truth.’

  ‘And what is your father going to say about it all when I tell him about you and your precious Chas?’ Sarah said challengingly. ‘Answer me that, Geoffrey Frogmore.’

  ‘My father will never know, not if you’re to keep this house and the generous allowance I intend to make you. In any case, you might consider what even a hint of such a thing would do. It would kill him.’

  ‘Well you are not going to take my child from me,’ Sarah said uncertainly. ‘Jack belongs with his mother. You can’t be so inhuman as to keep us apart.’

  ‘You didn’t think of that when you stayed out all night,’ Geoffrey said calmly. ‘Just as well I was at home with hi
m or he’d have been in the hands of the servants. It’s not good enough, Sarah and I’m not having it.’ He paused and stroked his beard. ‘I will allow him to visit but he’ll no longer be subject to your whims.’

  ‘You would rather him be influenced by your behaviour, would you?’ Sarah said angrily. ‘You and that man lying together, it’s disgusting.’

  Geoffrey shook his head. ‘You’ll never understand, will you? Chas and I are loyal to each other. You, on the other hand don’t know the meaning of the word. You were born a strumpet and a strumpet you will remain until the day you die. Do you think I want Jack growing up knowing what a whore his mother is?’

  She opened her mouth to protest but Geoffrey lifted his hand. ‘I’ve nothing more to say to you, Sarah, you may go.’

  ‘You won’t get away with this,’ Sarah said wildly. ‘I’ll blacken your name all over Swansea. I’ll make everyone realize what a misfit you are.’

  Geoffrey shook his head. ‘No you won’t do that, Sarah. You are motivated by greed. You couldn’t exist without my money, that’s why you married me. In any case, not even you would want to destroy our son. What of his future with a father in prison?’

  Sarah put her hand to her mouth to stop the flow of angry words. She knew, with a sinking of her spirits that Geoffrey had beaten her. She moved to the door and stood for a moment looking back at him.

  ‘Very well then, go. Get out of my sight. But I’ll never give my son up, believe me, I’ll win him back even if it takes me years to do it. Wait until he’s grown. What will he think of his father then?’

  She flounced out of the room and hurried up the stairs, tears of rage and frustration pouring down her cheeks. How dare Geoffrey take her son away with no thought for how she would feel? She clenched her hands into fists. She hated him. She wanted to slap Geoffrey’s sad little face – she could never forgive him for what he had done to her, never.

  Arian jerked awake. She was cramped and stiff from sitting in the chair in the small cabin of the Marie Clare. The boards groaned beneath her feet as the ship dipped gently from side to side. She rose to her feet and rubbed at her neck. How long had she been asleep? She peered through the porthole and saw that the ship had docked; she was in France. The dawn was beginning to streak the sky, and there were a few sailors strolling about the docklands.