by Janet Woods
‘There is much to regret. My lack of communication is one of them.’ He gave her a tight smile. ‘Isn’t it time we stopped playing games?’
She stared silently at him. This wasn’t going exactly as she’d planned. ‘You’re a surgeon as well as a physician, Francis. Tell me, how many times can a person be stabbed in the heart without bleeding the death?’
‘You’re being overly dramatic. We’re talking about the paternity of a child.’
‘Francine is part of my heart. All the children are.’
He made a soft, exasperated noise in his throat. ‘Let me put my question thus. If I’m not Francine’s father, who is? The fact that you’ve chosen to conceal from me that you’ve returned to England and are living in another man’s house, could give rise to speculation.’
Blood rushed to her face. ‘Hah! I thought your eyesight was adequate enough to see past the end of your nose.’ Picking up her skirts she pushed past him and began to run.
He grabbed her wrist when he caught her up, swinging her round to face him. ‘I love you,’ he said, his voice breaking with the emotion he usually found so hard to express. ‘I know Francine is my child. I know you’re my wife and I’m aware I’ve treated you badly.’
‘Francis, can I just say—’
He placed a finger across her mouth. ‘Hush, it is me who is begging now, in the best way I know how. There will be no more recriminations and no more apologies, for it will only prolong the hell of living without you. You and Francine will come home with me now. Much has happened in your absence that you need to be made aware of, and we will talk of it later. The children need you, and we need each other.’
In an instant she was in his arms, her head against his chest, reluctant to mention Bryn again, for although she’d pleaded the boy’s case with all that was in her, Siana knew she would learn to live without Bryn rather than lose Francis, despite her resolve to the contrary.
She couldn’t resist one last try. ‘I shouldn’t have given you the impression I would choose Bryn over you, even though my heart is breaking into a thousand pieces at the thought of losing him. I will bend to your will, but only if I have to.’
He chuckled at that. ‘Your heart is stronger than you could possibly imagine, and Bryn is waiting for you at home.’ Tipping up her chin he gently kissed her, chasing all thoughts of Bryn out of her head. They stood for what seemed an eternity just holding each other tight, then, hands joined, slowly walked back to Cheverton Manor together.
As they drove up to Rivervale House, Siana felt she had truly come home.
Suddenly, there were Daisy and Goldie, sitting on the step together, grown older now, though Goldie had a frail look to her. Their smiles crumpled into tears at the sight of her. ‘Mamma!’
She left her daughter with Francis, almost leaping from the rig in her haste to cuddle them close. Soon they were all damp-eyed.
‘Look how you’ve grown, Daisy. Goldie, have you been ill, my love? Oh, I’ve missed you all so much. I’m so glad I’m home.’
She sensed rather than saw someone in the shadows of the hall beyond. Standing, she gazed into the darkness, her body tensing when her eyes adjusted to the dim interior. She saw a forlorn little figure gazing at her through the banisters of the stairs. This was not the outgoing child she had last seen. Sadness emanated from him, and loneliness too.
‘Oh God! . . . Francis, look how much he’s grown, but what has happened to him?’ She went went to where he sat, and drew his stiff little body against hers. ‘Do you remember me, my dearest Bryn?’
‘Mamma,’ he whispered.
He needed a very special kind of loving from her now. ‘My sweet boy, I love you so much and I’ve missed you so.’
When Bryn began to tremble and weep she pulled him onto his lap and hugged him tight, rocking him back and forth. ‘You need a very special kind of loving, my little cuckoo, and that you will have.’
His smile came at the mention of her pet name for him, uncertain, like the sun lurking behind the tragic cloud of his face. His eyes were a mixture of excitement and shyness.
‘I’ve missed you so much, my Bryn. So much,’ and she grazed kisses over his face and head.
‘You stayed away a long time and I had to go away, then Grandpa came for me,’ he said, sounding all forlorn.
Grandpa, now, was it? She gave Francis a speculative glance and, noting the smile on his face, thought perhaps it was the best compromise, after all. Lying did not sit easily on him.
‘My darling boy, I’ll never leave you again,’ she promised. Francine had climbed the stairs with Goldie and Daisy in close attendance. ‘See, I have brought you a baby sister to look after. Her name is Francine.’
Francine produced her most winning smile for Bryn. Seeming not to mind in the slightest that her mother’s sole attention had been removed from her and she was cuddling a stranger in her lap, her daughter climbed up and hugged him too.
Her children crowded in on her then, smiling and touching her, loving Bryn and bringing another smile to his face. Floating in their love, although she stretched her arms as far as they would reach, Siana couldn’t encompass them all until Francis joined them, taking her hands in his so they were all reunited.
‘Thank you for bringing me home,’ she whispered, choking on her own emotion.
Then later, it was the turn of Pansy who came in with Josh, the pair of them shining with happiness so the whole world could see they were in love, rendering the wonderful news they had for her superfluous.
After dinner she and Francis talked. Francis held nothing back, telling her of Goldie’s misadventure, and not sparing himself in the process. ‘I should have gone to London and checked that all was well instead of trusting to those letters. I should have known it was not Goldie’s way of saying things.’
‘What of Betty Groves and her daughter? Were they punished for their crime?’
‘I heard from Beckwith just two days ago on the matter. The pair are awaiting transportation. He’s in the process of settling Sebastian Groves’s estate. An offer has been made for the business, including the machinery. I thought I might ask Josh to find a suitable property to buy on Goldie’s behalf, one which can be rented out until she comes of age.’
‘And Bryn? Have you decided what his future will be?’
‘He knows me as his grandfather now. I’ll tell him the truth of his birth when he’s old enough to understand, for he must be trained in a profession to provide for himself in the future. Reverend White left Bryn a legacy, which will carry him through university. And my brothers will help in any way they can.’
‘That’s good of them.’
‘They bear some responsibility for what happened to Bryn in your absence, for I followed their advice. But, no more recriminations, Siana. We must live for the future, not in the past. Go and say goodnight to your children. I’ll be up later to do the same.’
But when he went upstairs he found the children’s rooms empty. He found the children asleep on Siana’s bed. Daisy and Goldie were propped on pillows at the foot, looking like a pair of angels with their golden hair spread all around them. Francine was lying between them. His daughter’s thumb was jammed firmly in her mouth, her plump fingers curved over her nose. The three of them were tucked under a blue and white quilt. He recognized it as the one the Welsh woman had left behind for Siana, and wondered fleetingly what had happened to her.
Bryn was snuggled up against Siana. All were asleep. Siana had been reading to them, for Robinson Crusoe was lying open on the bed.
As if they hadn’t had enough trauma, he thought, gazing wryly at the face of his sleeping wife. Stooping to gently kiss them all, he went through the dividing door to his own chamber.
Siana woke just before the candle guttered out. Being careful not to disturb the sleeping children she rose to light another candle from the stub.
A few moments later she was through the connecting door and gazing down at her husband. He looked more relaxed in repose. All
she had ever felt for him was now a river of love in her veins. She kissed him until she felt the softening response of his mouth against hers, and knew he was awake.
‘Allow me to tell you about Marcus Ibsen, for I know you are wondering,’ she whispered, when she saw the glitter of his eyes in the candlelight.
‘Must you?’ he said painfully.
‘Marcus is not like other men I know. We are at ease with each other and he understand me as no other man does, not even you, my Francis.’
‘I have been torturing myself with the thought of him being alone with you in that house, so isolated from everyone.’
‘Ah . . .’ she said softly. ‘Then torture yourself no more. I have always loved you, and only you. Marcus slept in one of the cottages.’
Siana grinned to herself then, for Marcus had been so sure of himself. She had to admit his attention had been flattering when she’d been vulnerable, and she’d been sorely tempted. But becoming lovers would have been wrong for both of them and would have complicated matters. He’d looked like a small, lost dog when she’d banished him from the house. But he’d laughed at himself from then on and had accepted his defeat gracefully, except for taking advantage of her with a long, lingering parting kiss when her hands had been full. Oh, Marcus, she thought, thank goodness you didn’t kiss me like that back at the house.
‘Why did he go to Van Diemen’s Land at all?’
‘His sole purpose was to send me back to you. Before he placed me on the ship he told me to come home and take back that which is mine.’
‘You left him in Van Diemen’s Land?’
‘I understood there was a woman he’d travelled out with living there. Julia Hardy, she was called. Marcus expressed his admiration for her on many occasions and I believe he was considering proposing marriage to her. So don’t be surprised if he returns with a bride.’
‘What was his business in New South Wales, then?’
‘I considered it best not to pry too closely into what his business might be, for I suspect it involved those who dealt so badly with Maryse.’
When he gave a distressed sigh, she reminded him, ‘There were others who loved her too, Francis, and they were hurting just as much. Marcus doesn’t possess a nature that would allow her attackers to remain unavenged.’
‘Yet he married her, even knowing what he did about her.’
‘And would have taken her child under his roof too, had it been necessary. He loved her. Maryse was perfect in his eyes. She always will be, and he’ll always remember her young and in need of his protection. That’s not a bad memory to grow old with.’
He reached up to touch her face, his voice soft. ‘Aye, it’s not. You’re perfect.’
‘There’s no such thing as perfection. We all have blemishes.’ Pulling the covers from his body she slid in beside him and murmured, ‘Didn’t I promise you a son?’
‘You did, but my daughter was a unexpected gift and I’m content with her. For now, I’d just like to hold you, for I’ve missed the closeness we had.’
And hold her he did, but not for long. He’d forgotten the potency of her caresses, the teasing wanton movements of her body, the silky touch of her skin under his fingertips and mouth, and the seductive perfume of her. He lost himself as her caresses brought the man in him surging against her, so she took him into the fragrant moist depths where all was sensation until she cried out with the joy of him and captured him inside her with her thighs.
Then came the frenzy of his last frantic thrusts as she arched to meet him, and the swift, hot flood of him into her honeyed lair.
When he collapsed, hot and perspiring against her, she was loving as her fingers strayed to the welts on his back. ‘Tell me about these, my Francis.’
And since she’d unmanned him with her loving, he told her about the floggings he’d received. ‘It was as if I was inhuman, a man without without pride in himself.’
She cried a little, then stopped his words with her mouth over his. It was just a few moments before he was ready to love her all over again.
It was in the early hours of the morning when she fell asleep. He brushed the dark tangled hair back from her face and gazed at her. She looked as smug and as satisfied as a cat, and he had not felt so relaxed for a long time.
He kissed her mouth, already swollen from his kisses, and when she muttered his name in her sleep he smiled to himself, for he was filled with the contentment of just loving her, and he had been made whole. He would not lose her again.
20
The countryside was a blaze of colour as the procession of carriages headed towards the church. Inside, the occupants, dressed in their finest, looked forward to celebrating the nuptials of Pansy Matheson and Josh Skinner.
Behind them came the bridal carriage, decorated with streaming ribbons and jingling silver bells. Pansy and her father bowled through the countryside. The horse’s coat glowed like burnished copper.
Pansy was dressed all in white, her billowing skirts draped softly over stiff petticoats. There were touches of lace, flowers in her hair and dreams in her eyes. Pansy had no qualms about marrying Josh. He understood the need in her to live a useful, productive life. Who else would have thought to give her a school as a wedding present?
Not once had she regretted her decision to discard Alder, who was now an officer in the army. She was pleased he wouldn’t be at the wedding, even more pleased that Justina Parsons had turned his proposal down in favour of an impoverished viscount. Alder had treated Justina with much disdain.
Francis turned to smile at Pansy. His daughter had never looked lovelier. She’d stepped out of Maryse’s shadow to reveal herself as a capable young lady of rare good sense. Not only had she pandered to Prudence by asking her advice about the wedding, she had also invited her aunt to become patron of the new charity wing of her school when it opened at the beginning of the following year.
‘Your patronage will set the seal of quality on the school. The charity scholars who do well at their lessons will perhaps be offered worthwhile employment because of it.’
The countess had thought for a moment of two, then murmured, ‘Perhaps I could sponsor a scholarship. It could be called the Countess of Kylchester bursary, and would provide the money to pay for an apprenticeship for the recipient.’
Which was exactly what Pansy had been hoping for, Francis thought.
Siana had gone before them in an open carriage driven by the Cheverton groom. Daisy and Goldie were seated in a quiet, ladylike pose, lest they crush their frothy white gowns or scuff their kid shoes. They were to wear the same gowns for the marriage of Miss Edgar to Mr Dennings the following month.
Bryn was quiet, clinging to her hand and self-conscious in his velvet trousers, silk shirt and brocade jacket, for he was to stand beside Josh during the ceremony, holding the wedding rings on a cushion. The boy had regained some confidence over the past few weeks. With plenty of attention and loving she knew he was young enough to forget his ordeal in the years to come. Francine had been left with the nursery maid.
The church was a crush of people. Siana left the girls in the porch with Miss Edgar, then made her way to the front pew, handing Bryn over to Josh. As she went to sit in the Cheverton Manor pew, her glance fell on Marcus, seated with his new wife at his side.
A smile crossed Siana’s face. ‘Marcus, how lovely to see you. Why haven’t you called on us?’
‘It’s only been two weeks, after all. I thought we’d wait until after the wedding, when you wouldn’t be so busy.’ He rose to his feet. ‘May I present my wife, Julia, to you. This is Mrs Matheson, Julia, who once owned Cheverton Estate.’
‘Ah, yes, Elizabeth Hawkins spoke of you to me, though I believe I saw my husband assisting you aboard a ship in Van Diemen’s Land.’
When Marcus gave Julia a surprised look and she grinned at him, Siana knew she’d like this woman.
‘Yes, Marcus did see me safely aboard the ship. I’d been staying at my husband’s property there for
a while. I do wish you’d come forward, then. Since my son-in-law mentioned you so many times in conversation, I’ve been most curious to meet you. May I offer you my congratulations on your marriage, and much happiness in the future.’
A faint flush touched Julia’s face and her eyes shone, making her appear beautiful. ‘Thank you, Mrs Matheson. You’re most kind.’
‘Call me, Siana, please.’ Siana smiled to herself, noticing the slight bulge under the woman’s skirt. ‘How are you finding your new home, Mrs Ibsen?’
‘Since you’ve requested first names, I’d be pleased if you’d use mine.’ Julia gazed at Marcus with a slightly incredulous edge to her smile. ‘Actually, the house is much larger than I was led to expect. ‘
‘It will not take you long to get used to it. I’m so pleased you were here in time to attend Pansy and Josh’s wedding. Marcus, thank you so much for the use of the carriage and groom. Francis and I are most grateful.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’
‘How do you find your new stepchildren, Julia?’
Her eyes lit up. ‘They are so delightful and I quite adore them. I’m so pleased they’re young enough to accept me as their mamma.’
Marcus’s smile had a satisfied look to it.
‘You must bring Julia over when you are settled again so we can get to know each other properly,’ she told him. May I sit next to you, so I can keep an eye on the children? Francis will need to sit here too, for there are too many guests for the church to comfortably hold. I never knew my brother had so many friends.’ She blew a kiss to Josh who was waiting for his bride to arrive and who looked radiantly happy.
Marcus and Julia obligingly moved along the pew. When Marcus provocatively tickled the palm of his new wife’s hand as she seated herself, Siana gave a faint grin and ignored it.
The reverend came in, smiled at everyone, then glanced to the back of the church. There was a sudden rustle, as if heads had been rotated towards the door by a strong breeze.
However, it was not the bride arriving, but a grand parade of the Matheson family, headed by the stately Earl of Kylchester and his countess. They were a splendid sight, the women clad in pastel silks, flowers and feathers, the men top-hatted, their heads resembling a forest of tall grey chimneys.
