by Iris Gower
He stared around him, drinking in the familiar scents of Swansea Docks. The salt air and the smell of tar mingled with the acrid stench of fish being unloaded from one of the ships. He thrust his hand into his pocket, staring around him uncertainly. He wondered if he should go to Arian’s office on the quayside or take the road straight to Stormhill.
He was slightly uneasy about his reception. It was more than probable that Calvin Temple would still be in ignorance about the way his funds had been diverted but there was always that unlucky chance that, over the past weeks, the books might have been properly scrutinized.
He smiled to himself. He was worrying about nothing. It was unlikely that there would be any hitches in his plans. In all probability, he would continue quite happily investing Temple’s money. From now on, he would be careful to take only the occasional ‘commission’ from the funds. It didn’t do to become greedy.
The French end of things he’d managed quite well – a few pockets lined, a bribe here and there, and his connection with the fraudulent company was hushed up. Money usually did the trick, he found, whatever country he was in. The fact that he spoke fluent French also helped oil the wheels on this occasion.
He sighed. It would be good to see his wife again. Arian had submitted most sweetly to his desires and if she wasn’t entirely enthusiastic about the marriage, he could put up with that. How many wives were eager in the bedchamber? Not many, if bar-room gossip was anything to go by.
He decided to go by the office first and set out briskly along the quayside. Soon, he thought warmly, he would hold Arian in his arms, take possession of her lithe young body. And if he could never own her soul, so be it.
The office was closed and, peering into the windows, Gerald saw that the desk was covered in dust. It was quite obvious that no-one had occupied the place for some time.
His uneasiness growing, he made his way out of the docks and along the huddle of crowded streets that flanked the harbour, wondering if anything could have happened to Arian. He could only hope that she’d remained in ignorance of what he’d done. If she ever found him out, he could kiss goodbye to her co-operation. She would have nothing more to do with him.
On the hillside, the air was cooler and fresher, the breeze coming in from the sweep of Swansea Bay sweet and clean. It was here on the grassy slopes of Mount Pleasant and the Uplands that the rich of the town had their big houses, fine houses built for style and elegance, built to withstand the ravages of time.
Stormhill stood out from the other buildings, the sheer size and elegance of it dwarfing the surrounding houses so that they shrank into insignificance beneath the crenellated towers and sprouting chimneys of the manor house.
Gerald walked around the back of the building and entered through the kitchen door, breathing in the familiar smells with a sudden, unexpected sense of home-coming. Gerald had never had a real home – he had been little more than a tolerated guest wherever he’d lived.
Mrs Bob was working as usual, rolling pastry, sleeves pushed up above plump elbows. Gerald nodded to her, aware of the curiosity in her glance but, without pausing, he climbed the stairs to the back hallways. The sooner he saw Temple the better.
‘Bella!’ Gerald called to the young maid, and after a moment she appeared from one of the large rooms, her eyes wide.
‘Bella, is his lordship at home?’ he asked, his eyes shrewd as he saw the flustered look on the girl’s face. Something had happened in his absence, but what?
‘He’s in the study. Shall I tell him you’re here, Mr Simples?’ Bella sounded breathless.
‘Wait a moment,’ Gerald said. ‘Where is Arian? Is she at home?’
‘Oh, she’s gone away, Mr Simples.’ Bella clasped her hands together in an agony of embarrassment. ‘Went off sudden-like, she did. Don’t know where, mind.’
Gerald felt cold. It was clear that his plans had gone awry but how much did his lordship know?
‘Go and announce me then, what are you waiting for?’ he said abruptly.
Lord Temple was seated at his desk, a pen in his hand, some open books on the table before him. Gerald knew then that the worst had happened – the fraud had been discovered. He mentally shook himself, nothing could be proven. So he had made a mistake, it happened.
Temple was silent, waiting for Gerald to speak. He cleared his throat. ‘Is anything wrong, Lord Temple?’ he asked solicitously.
‘I should have thought you would know better than to ask that, Simples.’ Temple sounded as though he was making an effort to contain his temper.
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Gerald’s composure held. ‘I realize that the entire operation has failed. The French calf company was not the sound investment I thought it was. I can only apologize and try to make it up to you.’
‘It seems any investment you made on my behalf was doomed to failure. It’s clear you’ve embezzled large amounts of money.’
‘Not embezzlement, surely, sir,’ Gerald said calmly. ‘I, and Arian too, made those payments and investments in good faith. It was never possible to know that this company was shaky.’
Calvin Temple rose to his feet then, his face red. ‘I could forget the matter of the money,’ he said icily, ‘it might indeed have been an ill-advised move on your part.’ He paused as if to gain control. ‘What I can’t forgive is that you coerced Arian into marriage, a marriage she didn’t want. You used her regard for me to blackmail her into your bed.’
Gerald feigned astonishment. ‘Is that what she told you?’ he asked.
‘Are you denying it?’ Temple moved a pace forward as though to attack him but Gerald stood his ground.
‘I did Arian a favour,’ he said calmly. ‘I married her to save her from a French jail. At first the authorities were holding her responsible for the whole débâcle. Then, sir, they turned their attention to your part in all this.’ He shrugged in what he hoped was a self-deprecating manner.
‘I had to work damn hard to get the charges against us dropped, believe me.’
‘Arian said nothing about any charges.’ Temple sounded uncertain now and Gerald felt a moment of triumph.
‘Where is she?’ he asked. ‘I shall ask her to tell you the truth, all of it.’
‘How can I believe you?’ Temple rubbed at his hair. ‘How can I believe either of you?’
Gerald sighed. ‘Go to France yourself, sir. Look at the police records, if you wish. Arian was held in custody until I took responsibility for her. It was only because I took the step of marrying her that she was set free. The police practically stood over us until the ceremony was performed. It was what she wanted, what we both wanted.’
‘Get out of my sight.’ Temple turned away. ‘You deserve each other. I don’t think either of you would know the truth if it bit you. Go, leave my house and be thankful you are not facing charges here in Swansea.’
Gerald left the room. This was not the outcome he had hoped for but at least he was walking away a free man. He packed his few possessions and left Stormhill, if with some regrets then with a sigh of relief too. All in all, things had not worked out too badly.
He retraced his footsteps down the hillside. He would find good clean lodgings, make himself comfortable. It would need to be somewhere modest, at least for now – wouldn’t do to be seen splashing money about.
Money he had, quite a lot of it; all he wanted now was to find his wife and bring her home. In this, the law of the land was with him, he had the right to bring her to his home whatever her protests. Arian might not come willingly to his bed now, as she’d done in France but she was his wife and as such, she would have to learn obedience. He smiled in anticipation, he would very much enjoy teaching her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sarah looked around her at the elegant drawing room, the luxurious carpets, the matching drapes, with wry amusement. She had everything a woman could desire, a lovely house, a generous allowance, and yet she had nothing.
She hadn’t realized how much she would miss Geoffrey. His pr
esence had been a constant source of reassurance, allowing her a rightful place in society. More, he had given her the feeling of being needed, loved almost. Except in the bedchamber, he had been an exemplary husband. And now he had left her.
Her son, of course, she yearned for. She longed for the touch of his soft cheek against hers, the feel of his silky hair beneath her hands and yet, strangely, she missed Geoffrey’s gentle presence almost as much.
She couldn’t blame him for walking out on her, not now that she’d had time to reflect on her actions. She had shamed him, taken away his dignity by going to the bed of another man and it had all been in vain, there was to be no child.
Sarah had been devastated when she had miscarried Calvin Temple’s baby. She had remained in her bed for days, tended by a hired nurse, a stranger who naturally assumed the child was the product of a happy marriage. But since the nurse had departed, there had been nothing but the loneliness of empty days and even emptier nights. The staff she’d grown used to were gone to Geoffrey’s new house and just a few new servants employed to replace them. Hardest of all to bear was the almost certain knowledge that after her ordeal, there would be no more pregnancies.
She rose to her feet. She must see Geoffrey, must speak with him, beg his forgiveness. Perhaps he would come back to her. It was a faint hope and she knew it but at least she must try.
She walked into town, bemoaning the fact that Geoffrey had left her no transport of her own. He had taken the elegant carriage the groom kept polished to perfection and even the stable of fine horses was gone. The big house had become like a deserted ship, she thought in sorrow.
Once in town, she was able to take a cab to Geoffrey’s new home on the outskirts of Swansea. She sat in the worn leather seat, hearing the turning of the wheels and the sound of horses’ hooves with a sense of isolation. No-one cared if she lived or died, she might as well resign herself to that fact, she told herself gloomily.
Geoffrey’s new home was modest, settled in the folds of the hillside overlooking Mumbles Bay. The wash of the sea soothed Sarah and as she climbed down from the carriage a slant of sunlight warmed her. She moved towards the door feeling a little more optimistic.
‘Want me to wait?’ the driver called after her. ‘It will cost a bit more, mind, but it might be worth it, you won’t find another cab out by here in a hurry.’
Sarah scarcely looked at him. ‘My husband will take me back into town,’ she said and then added, ‘Thank you,’ in a voice that was anything but gracious.
The driver flicked the reigns and the horse jerked the carriage into movement, and Sarah watched for a moment before squaring her shoulders and turning once more towards the house.
‘Sunrise’ was a two-storeyed building with a flat frontage made of mellow stone. The windows were small. The place was little more than a glorified cottage, no place to bring up her son, she thought indignantly.
She was about to ring the bell hanging outside the porch when she heard the sound of laughter from the garden at the rear of the building. She warmed as she heard Jack’s voice and quickly she skirted the bright garden and made her way around the perimeter of the house.
She caught her breath as she saw Jack, his head thrown back, childish giggles shaking his frame. Geoffrey was holding a ball above Jack’s head and as Sarah watched, he threw it to the other man who pretended to drop it. Jack immediately snatched it up.
‘You’re piggy-in-the-middle, Chas!’ he said excitedly.
It was then that Geoffrey caught sight of her. He immediately stiffened, a guarded look coming over his face, the laughter vanishing. Sarah felt unaccountably saddened and a little jealous – she had never made Geoffrey look so happy.
‘Mammy!’ Jack’s delight at seeing her was a balm. She caught him as he flung himself at her and held him close, revelling in the warmth of his small body and the feel of his arms around her neck.
She kissed his face all over and hugged him as though she would never let him go. After a time, Geoffrey moved slowly towards her.
‘Come inside, Sarah,’ he said. ‘We can’t talk out here.’ He gave Chas a look full of apology and unmistakable love, and Sarah, for the first time, understood a little about how her husband felt about his lover.
‘I haven’t come to cause any trouble,’ she said quickly. ‘I was lonely. I wanted to see Jack … and you, Geoffrey.’
She felt, rather than heard, the sigh that came from Chas. She glanced at him and he appeared fearful and uncertain. She felt sorry for him.
‘It’s all right,’ she said, ‘I’m not going to be difficult, I promise.’
She could see at once that she had made the right move. Geoffrey’s tone was warmer when he spoke.
‘We shall have some tea together. Would you like your mother to stay for tea, Jack? Chas can stay too,’ he added defensively.
Jack’s smile was radiant. ‘Mammy, have you come home to stay?’ he asked and Sarah forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat.
‘We’ll see, my lovely,’ she said, her voice thick with emotion and Geoffrey looked at her sharply.
‘Sarah …’ he began, ‘I’m sorry but—’
‘Don’t say anything, not now, Geoffrey,’ she said quickly. ‘Just let me enjoy my time with you both.’
Inside the house, Sarah saw that it really was quite spacious. The building extended back a long way and though it was not to be compared with the house Geoffrey had given her, it was quite charming in its own way.
They ate a tea of crusty bread and jam and sweet small cakes in the brightly painted, sunlit nursery suite. Chas had tactfully left them. At least, Sarah thought, her husband wasn’t so besotted as to live openly with the man.
Jack chatted to Sarah constantly and his conversation centred around his father and Chas whom Jack seemed to hold in great affection. Sarah suppressed the pang of jealousy at the thought that Chas seemed to be supplanting her in her child’s life.
Later Geoffrey sent Jack to play outside. ‘Find your nurse, there’s a good boy. Tell her you need a wash. I shan’t be long.’
When the door closed behind her son, Sarah looked at Geoffrey and suddenly she was tongue-tied. How could she ask him to come back to his old life when he was so patently happy in his new one?
‘I’m glad I came,’ she said at last, ‘if only because now I understand a little of what your … your friendship with Chas means to you.’ She sighed. ‘And Jack, he’s obviously settled down and is very happy.’ Her voice broke. ‘I wanted you to come home, Geoffrey, for everything to be as it was before.’ She drew a ragged breath. ‘Now I can see that a reconciliation is out of the question.’
‘I couldn’t go back to living a lie, Sarah, but please don’t feel too badly about things.’ He glanced at her quickly. ‘You’ll soon make a new life for yourself but I don’t think it wise for you to bear a child to another man, do you understand me?’
‘There will be no child, not now, not ever,’ Sarah said and Geoffrey took both her hands in his.
‘I’m sorry, Sarah, sorry for your unhappiness but there isn’t much I can do to help you. One point I would reassure you on; divorce between us is not an option I would ever consider, you’ll always be cared for financially.’
‘I never wanted a divorce anyway,’ Sarah said emphatically. She thought of it, the shame of being an outcast as Eline Temple was, the sniggering and sneering, the outright hostility that had driven Eline away from Swansea. She shuddered. ‘No, divorce is not for me, Geoffrey.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He leaned forward. ‘Be discreet in whatever you do,’ he said. ‘That is only fair to me and to our son.’ He pressed her hand lightly.
‘I know you miss Jack now but, if I’m honest, I feel that you are not cut out for motherhood, you care too much about … well, about other things. Believe me, you’re better off as you are.’
Sarah felt defeated, too defeated to argue with him. ‘Perhaps you’re right, Geoffrey, but if you will just allow me to see more
of Jack I promise I won’t try to influence him against Chas in any way.’
Geoffrey looked at her levelly and released her hand. ‘I believe you, Sarah. We’ll have to see how everything works out. Remember this though, in many ways you are a fortunate woman. You have money, respectability and your freedom.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Sarah rose to her feet and looked at Geoffrey regretfully. ‘If anything should happen to change things, if you and Chas should fall out, please come back to me Geoffrey. I would be a good wife to you. I mean that.’
‘I know.’ He looked away from her to the garden where the sun was now slanting long shadows over the lawn. He was a man she no longer knew. In truth, Geoffrey never had been hers, his heart had always been with Chas and now she’d lost even the little of him she’d had. He turned and caught her glance and his eyes were those of a stranger.
‘Can your groom take me home?’ she asked almost humbly and Geoffrey smiled at her in obvious relief.
‘Of course. Goodbye Sarah, take care of yourself.’
She turned once to look back from the carriage window and saw that Jack had rejoined his father and was laughing happily, hugging Geoffrey’s legs. Sarah knew, in that instant, that she was leaving one part of her life behind her for ever.
Arian was tired. She had worked hard all day in the workshop and once dusk fell and the light was too bad to see properly, she’d set about delivering the boots and shoes that had been standing stiffly on the shelves as though in an unspoken rebuke because they were lying idle instead of protecting the feet of their owners.
At last the deliveries were done, her basket was light on her arm and she was on her way home.
Home, it had a hollow ring. The one room where she slept and spent the little free time she had, seemed almost like a prison. She was weary of staring at the same four peeling walls and the one old picture of a woman at a well gazing up at a handsome youth, wearier still of witnessing the happiness that was an almost tangible thing between Eline and Will Davies.
