Arian

by Iris Gower

There was no turning back. The words rang in her ears as Arian went slowly forward towards the arched doorway of the church.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Calvin lay beside Daphne in the large bed and knew with a feeling of sadness that what had once been between them was no longer there.

  Daphne sat up and stretched her slender white arms, and her breasts, beautiful breasts, jutted forward in a way that once would have filled him with desire. Now there was nothing, just a feeling of disquiet as he wondered how he could sever the ties between them. But Daphne was nothing if not perceptive.

  ‘It’s over, isn’t it?’ she said, slipping out of bed and standing naked before the long window. She sounded sad.

  He wondered for a moment if he should protest, tell her how much he had enjoyed her company and her body. But it would all seem like faint praise. He’d merely be going through the motions and Daphne was too intelligent to be taken in by pretence. In the end he said nothing.

  ‘I know it’s over, my dear, and I don’t want you to worry about it. The best things must come to an end.’ There was a hint of laughter in her voice and he knew she wanted to end it as much as he did.

  ‘Daphne,’ he began but she held up her hand. He subsided against the pillows rubbing his hair from his eyes.

  ‘It’s that girl. You are in love with her. I don’t know why you don’t just admit it to yourself and go and find her.’

  ‘It’s not as simple as you seem to think,’ he replied. ‘In any case, how can you know my feelings so well when I don’t know them myself?’

  ‘You are like most men in that respect,’ Daphne said softly, ‘you won’t face up to the truth, you’d rather hide your head in the sand and pretend that everything is all right.’

  ‘I see.’ Calvin attempted an indulgent smile but he knew she was speaking the truth. If he were honest, he would give anything to have Arian beside him now, sharing his bed.

  ‘She’s married,’ he said at last. ‘Now, I can’t get more realistic than that, can I?’

  ‘It’s an obstacle, yes,’ Daphne conceded, ‘but not an insurmountable one as you’ve proved in your own life.’

  ‘Divorce, you mean?’ Calvin said. ‘I’ve had a belly full of that, I can tell you.’

  ‘Then take the girl away somewhere and live in sin,’ Daphne said impatiently. ‘It’s not like you to admit defeat, Calvin my dear.’

  Daphne was right. He wasn’t one to accept defeat easily and yet there was something about Arian that baffled him. Calvin wasn’t at all sure that she would welcome his attentions. She was a woman with her own views, an independent strong woman. She might not even want him. Daphne might have read his mind.

  ‘Every woman wants love and protection,’ she said. ‘She wants the man to be the hero, to take charge, to make decisions. Wake up before it’s too late.’

  Daphne disappeared into the dressing room and Calvin heard the sound of running water. He closed his eyes for a moment trying to imagine Arian’s face, her silver hair, her slender figure. She had such a fragile beauty, her eyes seemed to look right into him, to read his thoughts almost. But then, many women had that gift, had other gifts too, so what was so special about Arian?

  He climbed abruptly from the bed. He was becoming introspective and it was about time he pulled himself together, time he cleared his mind of all the nonsense evoked by Daphne’s words.

  It was easier said than done. His thoughts returned to the subject of Arian and, in spite of himself, his emotions seemed to take charge. He must find out where Arian was. She had moved out of Swansea, that much he knew.

  She had left her husband; this bit of information had been the subject of gossip at quite a few dinner tables recently. Gerald Simples, it seemed, had become ‘adviser’ to Sarah Frogmore. He was doubtless more use in her bed than he was handling her finances.

  Sarah-Calvin was well out of that tangle. How ill advised he’d been to be taken in by her charms. She was nothing but trouble, tainting whatever she touched. His mouth curved into a smile. She had done him one favour at least; she had split Simples from Arian apparently for good and all.

  Arian might have returned to Clydach to work with Eline and her new husband. Hope rose within him. There was every likelihood he would find her there … if he decided to pursue the matter.

  Daphne entered the room on a cloud of perfume. She was fully dressed and her eyes sparkled as though she had found a lover and was not losing one. He admired her greatly. What a pity they were not in love with each other.

  ‘Well darling, it’s bye.’ She blew him a kiss with the tips of elegant fingers, ‘I shall see you at some supper party or other I dare say.’

  ‘Daphne,’ he began, and she waved aside his words. She was smiling but there was a tear trembling on her dark lashes.

  ‘Now don’t spoil things, Calvin. Let me remember you as you are now, naked and magnificent, the strong silent sort of man that I most admire.’

  She sailed out of the room, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air. Calvin sighed. Why couldn’t a man fall in love at will? Daphne was a beautiful, sensuous woman, she was open and honest about her lust for life, she had breeding and money of her own. In short, she would be an ideal partner for him.

  He closed his eyes and he could see Arian’s fragile beauty and he knew he wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in all his life.

  Arian walked along the French street, breathing in the strange evening scents, looking at the glazed pastries as she passed the open door of a shop. She tried to force her mind to concentrate on anything, anything but the unshakeable fact of her marriage. She felt in a daze, close to tears, unable to speak. It was Bridie who was the first one to break the silence.

  ‘It isn’t the end of the world, Arian, dear. So your marriage is legal. That doesn’t mean you have to live with the man.’

  Legal husband; the words echoed inside her head. Now, she would never be free of Gerald Simples. Father Alain was a properly ordained priest, he’d been kind and sympathetic but somehow it didn’t help to make the truth any more palatable.

  She sighed heavily and Jono tentatively put his arm around her.

  ‘I’ll protect you from him, don’t you worry. That man had better not come near you or I’ll break his bluddy neck.’ His face reddened. ‘’Scuse language, mind.’

  Arian forced a smile. ‘Well, that’s that then. At least I know, now. No more uncertainty. I’m a married woman, tied to Gerald until death do us part.’

  ‘Don’t upset yourself,’ Bridie said. ‘There’s worse things than that in life, at least you have your health and strength. The trip seems to have done you some good. You’re looking better and there’s colour in your cheeks now.’

  Bridie’s voice held a note of happiness. She was clearly anticipating the return journey when she could spend more time with her new love, Paul Marchant.

  As though Bridie had picked up on Arian’s train of thought she spoke softly, the features of her face transformed so that she looked beautiful.

  ‘Paul will be taking us on the voyage home,’ she leaned close to Arian so that Jono wouldn’t hear her. ‘I can talk to him again, let him hold me in his arms, feel his mouth on mine. I can hardly wait.’

  Arian felt a pang of envy. She wished she could feel such a burning desire to be with a man instead of the grudging acceptance she’d come to know with Gerald.

  They were to stay in a small pension that night because the ship wasn’t leaving until the morning. It was irksome to Arian, who wanted to shake the dust of France from her feet for ever.

  ‘We’ll have supper together,’ Bridie said, ‘and then perhaps take a walk along the dockside.’

  Arian glanced at Bridie. It was clear she was hoping to catch a glimpse of Paul. Bridie seemed to have fallen in love with him far too quickly and Arian hoped she wouldn’t end up being hurt.

  She was tired now and longed to lie down and close her eyes but there was a last-minute hitch; the pension was full and
their rooms no longer available. The concierge was most apologetic but her elegant shrug told Arian plainly that there was nothing she could do.

  ‘We’ll sleep on board,’ Arian said decisively. ‘That’s the only alternative. We can hardly go looking for accommodation at this time of night.’

  She set out purposefully towards the docks with Jono and Bridie coming along behind her, arguing about what had gone wrong with the arrangements for the night’s accommodation, questioning each other’s competence.

  ‘I thought I made it clear that we meant to come back. I know I booked the rooms for two nights,’ Bridie said positively. ‘I don’t understand what can have gone wrong.’

  ‘I do.’ Arian turned to look over her shoulder. ‘Madame had the choice of a big party or the three of us and she thought of her cash book first.’

  ‘You are so mercenary, Arian.’ Bridie caught up with her, her heels tapping the cobbles loudly, ‘I’m sure it was just a genuine misunderstanding.’

  Was she mercenary, Arian wondered? She thought not. Money was not a prime consideration in her life. But she did want to be a success, she was sure of that and yet success continued to elude her.

  She sighed, what would she do now? She had tried to go into business several times and for one reason or another had failed. Perhaps she would be better off working for someone else, just doing her job and taking her monthly salary with gratitude like most people did.

  But that wasn’t her way. She would never be satisfied with second best. She would prefer to make a little money working for herself than a lot of money working for someone else.

  Paul Marchant was not on board but Bridie called a command in her halting French to one of the deckhands to lower the gangplank. The ship creaked and groaned against the harbour wall and Bridie fumed impatiently. Once the gangplank was in place, Bridie mounted it as though ready to do battle with someone and sheepishly Jono indicated that Arian should precede him.

  ‘Don’t take any notice of our Bridie’s moods.’ He followed Arian up the shaky gangplank. ‘She’s got a lot of growing up to do yet. Spoiled she’s been, all her life.’

  Arian found herself on the moving deck and smelt the salt of the air with a sudden sense of excitement. She was going home. She would accept what she couldn’t change. She was married but she wouldn’t allow the fact to ruin her life.

  She was surprised, later, when Paul Marchant asked her to go to see him in his cabin. Bridie looked at her in astonishment, her pique showing in her expressive face.

  ‘What does he want you for?’ Her voice was sharp.

  ‘Well, there’s only one way of finding out.’ Arian left the cabin almost able to feel Bridie’s anger. She smiled. Bridie needn’t worry. Paul was an opportunist and he would find Bridie James and her shipping line much more attractive than anything Arian could offer.

  When she knocked, he called to her to come in. He was seated behind a desk, a pen in his hand, a book open before him.

  ‘Mrs Simples,’ he spoke in a businesslike tone, ‘I’ve a proposition for you.

  Later Arian returned to the cabin she shared with Bridie. She appeared to be asleep. Arian shrugged. She was pleased not to have to talk, she had a lot on her mind.

  Her mind was on the edges of sleep when she made her decision – she would do what Paul Marchant asked. It would be an adventure. Another thing, from now on, she would enjoy men when and as she could. She would never be a wife to anyone again, she would be forever a mistress. Her last waking thought was of Calvin Temple and when she woke in the morning, her eyes were still damp with tears.

  Calvin was riding over the hills above Honey’s Farm, glad to be out in the open air with the tang of autumn in his nostrils. He’d had enough of women, he told himself, of would-be wives – good ladies all, but so earnest and boring. In any case, he’d had one marriage and that had ended in disaster. It was a mistake he was in no hurry to repeat. Of course, had Arian been free, the whole issue would have taken on a different complexion, but she was not. She was married to Simples, a man who was a thief and a villain. So much for the judgement of women, he told himself bitterly.

  He rode high up the hill and reigned in the mare, pausing to look down into the valley below. The blue of the sea contrasted with the russet-leaved trees that lined it and far out on the horizon was a ship in full sail making for the arms of the harbour.

  It was a fine day for a man who was lonely. He smiled at his own self-pity and lifted his head to look above him at the light racing clouds.

  The thunder of hooves vibrated beneath him before the big white stallion came into view over the hill. Calvin’s heart thumped unexpectedly as he saw the bare legs and long flying hair of the woman riding the animal bare-back.

  ‘Arian,’ her name was carried away on the wind and then she was coming towards him, slowing the mad gallop, drawing the sweating horse to a halt.

  Like adversaries, they eyed each other in silence and then Arian smiled. It was like the sun washing the landscape in light and Calvin dismounted.

  Arian jumped lightly to the ground and he saw with almost a sense of pain that her feet, tiny, exquisite feet, were bare.

  ‘Little gypsy.’ The words sounded like an endearment. She stood before him, looking upwards, her lashes thick and golden, her eyes flecked with sunlight. He wasn’t sure who moved first but then she was in his arms.

  He kissed her deeply, passionately and she clung to him. He could feel her slender body trembling and with a thrill of joy he knew she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

  ‘Let me take you home,’ he said, holding her close, smelling the sunlight in her hair and the freshness of her skin. ‘I don’t know what brought you up here but by God I’m glad to see you.’

  ‘Make love to me here, under the sun.’ She took his hand and drew him down into the coarse grass and quickly, with complete abandon, she loosened her skirt and bodice. She lay like a nymph, naked against the grass, a creature from another, ethereal world. In any other woman, the act would have jarred but somehow, with her, it was so right.

  He stretched beside her and touched her wonderingly, her flesh was firm and so white, dappled by late, mellow sunlight. He buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes, knowing that he had never wanted anything in the world as much as he wanted Arian.

  She lifted his head and deliberately kissed his mouth. He felt a fire begin to burn within him. He knew he must possess her. He drew her close. She shuddered, closing her eyes and he was still for a moment, wanting the joy of anticipation never to end.

  It was Arian who began to move beneath him and the fire encompassed him. He could no longer resist the temptations of her sweetness. It was so right, so natural. He cradled her and even as he took her a great tenderness mingled with his passion.

  When it was over, they lay together still, Arian clinging to him, unwilling to let him go. He knew then he could never have enough of her. Until now, he’d only tasted of love, this was the reality.

  He twined his fingers in her hair and she looked up at him, questioningly. ‘Will you come to live with me, Arian?’ His voice was humble and he held his breath until, slowly, she shook her head.

  ‘No, Calvin, my love, I won’t come to live with you.’ She was rising, drawing her skirt over her nakedness. ‘I’m still a married woman and there’s been enough scandal in your life.’

  ‘Do you think I’d care about gossip? I want you Arian, I—’ She stopped his words by putting her hand over his mouth.

  ‘No, Calvin, don’t spoil things, don’t say any more.’ With a suddenness that took him by surprise, she was astride the waiting horse. She looked down at him for a long moment, her face softened by passion and then, she turned the animal and was racing away across the hills, hair streaming behind her like a silver cloud.

  He sighed. She was like a wild creature; there was no taming her. He didn’t want to tame her, he just wanted to be with her for ever, to love her, to cherish her, to make her smile at him so that the
sun would perpetually shine on them both. It was nothing more than a dream, perhaps the entire thing had been a dream and Arian a figment of his imagination.

  He lifted his head to look up at the sky, shadowed now as if in tune with his feelings. ‘Arian, I love you.’ His voice was carried away by the breeze and it didn’t matter. He was the only one to hear it.

  ‘Did you enjoy your ride?’ Fon was busy over the black-doored oven. ‘Hope you brought our poor horse back safely.’ Her face flushed with the heat, she glanced at Arian and then looked away again.

  ‘If I didn’t know different, I’d say you’ve just been with a lover.’ Her words were soft, with no hint of censure and Arian smiled.

  ‘Good thing you know different then.’ She moved out to the yard, divested herself of her clothes and stood close to the pump, sluicing cold water over her body. She returned into the kitchen naked and stood for a moment looking at Fon.

  ‘Can I borrow some of your clothes?’ She smiled at Fon’s raised eyebrows.

  ‘I think you better had and quick about it,’ Fon said. ‘I don’t want my husband seeing you like that. It would be too much of a temptation, even for Jamie.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’ Arian hurried upstairs and took a faded blue skirt and a white calico bodice out of the drawer. She felt clean and fresh and her hair hung damp and curling to her waist as she looked at herself in the mirror.

  What sort of woman was she? She put her head on one side. A young, healthy woman with healthy desires, she told herself. So what, if she didn’t live by the rules that others held so dear? What if she had decided to give herself to Calvin one last time before she went out of his life for ever? It wasn’t much to ask, was it?

  She ran lightly down the stairs and returned to the kitchen. ‘Where are the children?’ she asked and Fon grimaced.

  ‘I persuaded Jamie to take the little ones with him up to the top field. April is seeing to the cows, a real help she is these days.’ For a moment, Fon’s eyes were clouded. ‘I’ll never forget Patrick and neither will Jamie but God’s been kind to us, there’s another baby on the way.’