The Hired Wife

by Cari Hislop

  “He doesn’t look seventeen.” He didn’t kiss like a boy either. Alyce smiled as she conceived the perfect plan. If she got with a male child and Henry just happened to conveniently die she could remarry someone young and beautiful and if Henry were to die in the near future it wouldn’t matter if the father wasn’t Henry Fitzalan. The thought of a Smirke becoming the next Marquis of Morley made her laugh out loud. The old rutting goat would turn in his grave. Her dark thoughts were disturbed by her brother shouting in exasperation that Mary was supposed to keep track of her points. Alyce turned her gaze towards the fireplace where Morley was avidly watching Mary through his eyeglass. Alyce sneered in amusement as Marshall caressed his wife’s cheek briefly contorting Henry’s features with envy. “I think Marshall’s lost his wits. The way he stares at Mary you’d think she was pretty.”

  “Don’t be vile. I think it’s sweet. Marshall’s waited forever to find a little happiness.”

  “Ensnaring Bucky has made you insufferable. She married him for his money and is making the best of a bad situation. Can you imagine having to share Marshall’s bed? Ugh!”

  “You’re becoming more unspeakably vulgar by the hour.”

  Alyce ignored the reprimand with haughty disdain, “Where’s Bucky? I thought he was supposed to haunt you like a ghostly rabbit.”

  “He had a call of nature; I couldn’t accompany him could I? He’s the dearest, funniest, sweetest creature…do be kind to him for me.”

  “If I must…love is making you hare-brained. Henry will entertain me…”

  “Stay away from Henry, he’ll ruin you.”

  “No he won’t.”

  “Philistine.” Alyce ignored her sister and caught Robert Smirke’s eye as she stood up. Returning his smile, she flicked her head and reluctantly turned away and crossed the room towards Morley.

  Morley’s hooded gaze momentarily shifted from Mary’s lithesome back to the pretty young woman sneering up at him, “Henry dear, are you lusting after my brother’s wife? I believe that’s a sin.”

  “Yes, one of my favourites; meet me in the conservatory in twenty minutes. I need you.”

  “You woke me in the night. You woke me in the morning. You insisted I pleasure you in the castle ruins. I’ve performed my wifely duty for the day.”

  “You don’t appreciate the honour I bestow upon your person.”

  The cold words settled like hoar-frost on his companion, chilling her eyes and fanning her temper. “And you have no idea how tolerant and good I am to allow you to spill your seed when the whim takes you. On my wedding night I had to listen to you moaning for another woman in your sleep; Mary doesn’t even like you.”

  “Women are notoriously fickle. She’ll worship me, given the proper incentive…”

  “Mary’s married to my brother and you’re married to me, remember?”

  “A trifling complication my dear, meet me in the conservatory.”

  “You’ve had me three times today; go bore a chambermaid.”

  “Pleasure me or you’ll be enceinte without a husband before you can hail a mail coach to some forsaken corner of the Kingdom to have my bastard. You don’t need me to tell you what it’ll do to your social calendar if I unkindly let slip the reason for your absence next season.”

  “How dare you…I’m your legally wedded wife.”

  “Alyce my dear stupid child, you are not yet of an age to marry without your loving brother’s permission. The license was obtained by deceit. Your helpful Aunt Beatrice came along and spoke as your guardian, but she is not your guardian and you are not legally my wife. Obey me or you’ll wish you had.”

  “And Mary; a penniless, flat chested Vicar’s daughter who thinks you’re a repulsive monster doesn’t bore you?”

  “You wouldn’t understand; you have the artistic integrity of gravel. You should have listened to your brother. Meet me in the conservatory and pleasure me or I’ll inform my favourite Town-tabby that I know you in the biblical sense. She’ll be quite amused by your folly.”

  Alyce stared the smiling devil in the eyes and started planning her husband’s funeral. With the rutting old goat out of the way she’d be a rich Marchioness with undisturbed sleep. All she had to do was get with child and ensure Henry died in an accident. The dowager Lady Morley would ensure no scandal touched her only legitimate grandchild. “My husband commands, I must obey.”

  “My last six illegal wives were not so wise. They found their dreams of being a Marchioness dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Forget our illegal ceremony and I’ll forget I broke your maidenhead. Please me and I’ll help you find a husband. Cross me and you’ll be exploring death first hand.”

  Enraged, Alyce sneered as she cast her eyes towards her brother’s table, “Mary doesn’t appear to have noticed your presence. Perhaps having your hand down her dress was so repugnant she’s pretending you don’t exist. I wish I could.”

  “Spurned women are naturally hostile; they scoff their lovers like Swiss automatons. The next time a man procures an illegal marriage license, have the sense to invite your brother to the wedding.”

  “The next time I marry I’ll have the sense to choose a man my own age. You’re so old you’ll be dead long before you can blackmail Mary into your bed.”

  “Pray exercise your wit on the Smirke near the window; he’ll be dead by evensong from boredom.”

  “Guess what happened before you deigned to honour us with your repugnant presence?” Alyce ignored Henry’s mask boredom and leaned closer, “Marshall was honouring his wife with public kisses and she didn’t appear to mind in the least. I’d wager my wedding ring my brother’s enjoying all of Mary’s favours.”

  Henry’s harsh laughter was followed by an amused sneer, “You’re ignorant as well as stupid my dear. Your brother’s hired wife was meant to be sacked at the end of the year via an annulment. The marriage was never meant to be consummated, but Marshall has fallen in love with his servant-bride. He’s fighting for his meagre portion of happiness, but the good Mary insists on having time to decide whether to make the position permanent. Marshall hasn’t yet sampled her charms and if his ill-luck continues, he won’t live long enough to savour marital happiness.”

  Alyce stared with growing horror at the smiling devil, “You wouldn’t…”

  “Wouldn’t what my dear?”

  “…kill Marshall…to widow Mary.”

  “I have no idea how or when Marshall will die, but when fate tips its hat in my direction I certainly won’t question how my future wife became a widow.”

  “If my brother dies in an accident I’ll kill you.”

  Morley lifted his eyeglass and peered at Alyce as if she’d told him she was Cinderella’s fairy godmother. “Well, well…my pretty pet is showing sharp little teeth.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Before you begin a life of crime I suggest you learn the rudiments of chess; you’ve moved your Queen within reach of my pawn.”

  “I spit on your measly pawn.”

  “Well, I suppose that’s one way to resist checkmate, but highly ineffectual.”

  “Leave my brother alone or I’ll kill you.”

  “Kill is such an ugly word. Eliminate is far more tasteful. Life is a game and I always win. So how are you going to kill me Wife, poison my morning tea? You should know that the use of inheritance powder is sometimes detected. A rope collar wouldn’t suit you. Have you ever watched someone hang? Your pretty face would swell up purple as your lungs slowly burned for air. It would be a slow painful death.”

  “Leave my brother alone or you’ll regret it.”

  “This show of sisterly affection is astonishing…”

  “He’s my brother, he loves me you pig.”

  “Ah truth, a wormy half eaten apple; ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’. You’ll keep your pretty scorned nose out of my affairs or you’ll be venting your fury in hell along side William Congreve for writing that abysmal play.”

  “You’re so clever Henry…yo
ur mourning bride will be sure to mention it at your funeral with a single dramatic tear.”

  “Touché!”

  “Mind you don’t chew on your chessmen between play Henry, we wouldn’t want you to choke on your Queen would we?”

  “My dear, I wouldn’t dream of choking on you.” Morley smiled as he noted Marshall approaching with an unfriendly glare. “Our pleasant tête a tête will have to be continued later. I’ll meet you in the conservatory in half an hour.”

  I don’t want to pleasure you, you smell of moth-eaten socks.”

  “Defy me at your peril…”

  Alyce sighed in disgust, “At least wear some scent so I can pretend you’re someone else.”

  “Yes, I’ll splash myself with cologne so the maids will smell it on you and tell the household that you have a lover. Your reputation will be mud before your belly starts to swell. I fear the rules of chess would float in one of your pretty ears and out the other. Ah, Marshall, your lovely sister and I were just discussing you. She’s developed a sudden fear of you dying and leaving Mary a widow.”

  “What is this fixation on death Henry? Spare the rest of us your morbid ravings and go shoot yourself. Alyce come away from Henry, he’s not fit company for a young lady.”

  “No, he’s a heartless pig who smells of old socks. Why couldn’t you have a school friend with a soul?”

  “I told you to avoid Henry, but you thought him amusing remember?”

  “I must have been possessed.”

  “Your sister is irate because I won’t make her my Marchioness.”

  “I’m irate because you’re a pig.”

  “Pigs are intelligent, winsome and deadly when irritated.”

  “Give me your arm Marshall; your pig-friend is too busy dreaming of mud to remember his manners.”

  “Manners are for commoners. Speaking of whom; Marshall why is your good lady pretending I’m invisible? When she entered the room she greeted everyone, but my good self…”

  “Speak in my ear or go to the devil.”

  “Lady Mary appears to be avoiding me. It’s a ploy ladies often use to seduce a man. I hope you haven’t lost your wife before you’ve had a chance to bed her.”

  “Don’t listen to a word he says Marshal. The pig thinks he’s in love with Mary, as if his putrid heart could feel love.”

  “Your sister will next tell you she’s going to run away to perform in pantomimes as the back end of the proverbial cow. Why would I want your wife? You may relish bedding a blonde wash board, but I prefer women with breasts.”

  Marshall sneered in disgust, “Stop playing your cat and mouse games.”

  “Games? I’m merely trying to live my life Marshal. If my personal quest for happiness resembles a deadly game what is that to you? Fate hands out the cards. All I can do is play the hand I’ve been dealt. If you find happiness with a washboard that’s your affaire, but I’ll require a real woman.”

  “Alyce tugged on her brother’s sleeve, “Henry’s a lying pig. He wants Mary and he’ll do anything to have her. Coming up the hill, I saw him put his hand down Mary’s dress. That’s why she was so upset. She fell over trying to get away from him.”

  “What?” The word tore through the peaceful room as Marshall turned his full attention to his sister.

  “Henry stuck his hand down Mary’s bodice…coming up the hill behind us. He said he did it to frighten her, but he did it because he wants her. I tell you he’s going to kill you and then marry your wife; she makes him drool like a rutting stag.”

  Morley rolled his eyes, “The hysteric will next tell you I’ve discovered how to turn iron into gold. I comply with your wishes not to make dear Alyce my wife and she vilifies me in the most disgusting manner. You really should correct her wilful spirit with a birch rod before all the sane men find out she’s a hussy. Alyce wants revenge. Are you going to oblige her?”

  Marshall visibly clenched his fists, “If you so much as come near Merry I’ll pummel you within an inch of your life.”

  “Kill him before he kills you; you’re a Lord, they can’t execute you…can they?”

  Marshall turned his fury on his sister, “Silence! If you hadn’t pestered Buckingham to invite this old satyr, Merry would feel safe and your virtue would be unquestionable.”

  “My virtue is unquestionable.”

  “Hope springs eternal…”

  “But Henry means to kill you, you have to do something.”

  “If Lord Morley wishes to challenge me I’d be happy to cripple him. Either way, he may formally consider our friendship extinct.” Marshall grabbed his sister by the arm and frogmarched her back to her table oblivious to Morley’s sneer of amusement.

  Chapter 17

  Marshall returned to his own table nursing a savage desire to spill Henry’s blood. Pausing next to Mary’s chair he glanced at the fireplace to find he was being watched. Marshall returned the forced smile with a challenging snarl before stooping. “Merry?” She looked up, but said nothing as he took hold of her face and lightly kissed her lips. Standing upright he glanced once more at Morley to see the rakehell’s smile slide into a grim line of jealous hatred. Marshall caressed Mary’s cheek before taking his seat and absently picking up his cards as he contemplated the pleasure of pummelling his old friend to a pulp. He could see Lady Morley to his left saying something at him, but all he could hear was a fluctuating noise. “What did she say?” He momentarily forgot his blood lust as Mary touched his shoulder as she leaned across the corner of the card table.

  “She demands you cease kissing me in public, it’s making her ill. She says ugly people have no right to offend the eyes of innocent bystanders with disgusting displays of dalliance.”

  Marshall turned slits of sapphire toward the old woman peering at him through her lorgnette as if she were inspecting a slug. “My wife is not ugly!”

  “She says you’re aesthetically blind.”

  “If there is anything wrong with my eyes Madam your son shares the same condition. If the rakehell has his way I’ll die in a hunting accident or some such happenstance. You won’t be sneering when your son drags home my widow as the new Lady Morley. What did she say?”

  “She says her son already has a wife…”

  “And who is this invisible paragon?”

  “She says it’s a secret.”

  Marshall jumped up and shouted across the seated company, “Did you hear that Alyce? Your rakehell-lover already possesses a secret wife.” Except for her upper lip briefly curling in contempt his sister ignored his bellow and pretended to concentrate on her cards while furtively watching Robert Smirke. Marshall sat back down and threw down his cards in disgust. His sister’s odd indifference compared with her attitude to Henry the previous day suggested that his fears were no longer imaginary. The affair had doubtless been performed the previous evening and Alyce had gone to bed early to receive her husband. His stomach churned; a secret wedding with an illegal license, a foolish willing bride and two dotty female witnesses could easily be undone by a heartless rich rakehell. It probably wasn’t his first illegal wedding. There was an endless supply of eager fools ready to wed a silver tongued rich man with perfect hearing. “I pity Henry’s secret bride. Don’t be surprised when she conveniently falls down the stairs and breaks her neck after your son finds her with a young lover. I understand his double standards are nonnegotiable.”