A Companion for Life

by Cari Hislop

  “Uncle Penryth, I’ve never seen her before in my life. I’d never attack a woman, I swear it!”

  “Stop lying! My wife nearly died of fright because of you.”

  “Your wife? Her? Uncle Penryth, is that some sort of joke?” The young man sobbed in fear as his nightshirt was grabbed and he was jerked closer to death.

  “One more lie and you’ll wish you’d died with your parents in that carriage accident. Why did you attack my wife and cut off her hair? Did Lady Gillingham spin a pleasing yarn?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking…” He was momentarily silenced by his uncle’s fist.

  Lily bravely reached out and took a handful of her husband’s nightshirt and tugged it. “Mr Bowen…he may not remember.”

  The angry swan turned towards her. “Go back to bed.”

  She clutched his nightshirt tighter. “I’ve woken without remembering my beatings or what happened before them. Please don’t kill anyone Mr Bowen; I don’t want you to hang.”

  The white night shirt deflated as he let go of his nephew and stood up. “He nearly killed you, Cariadon. I won’t put up with his lies.”

  “If he’s lying there are better punishments then death. Send him on a grand tour for two years; I should imagine not seeing Grace will be punishment enough.”

  “Grace who?” The injured man sounded genuinely perplexed. Mr Bowen looked into her eyes and then turned his attention back to his nephew.

  “Your fiancée, the one who jilted you.”

  “Fiancé? But I’m only nineteen, why would I get engaged if I couldn’t marry her?”

  Lily tugged on her husband’s nightshirt again. “When did she jilt him?”

  “The day Lady Gillingham called. Rosamund and Grace setup the perfect snare to trap him into an early marriage and then the little… William went to tell her he’d marry her over an anvil, but your niece had already decided the Earl of Morley was a more impressive catch. The boy was devastated. I knew he’d get drunk and do something stupid, but I didn’t think he’d try to kill my wife.”

  “Someone jilted me for Morley? She must be an idiot!”

  “Do you expect me to believe you don’t remember Miss Grace Philips? She’s a beautiful spoilt brat who turned you into a mindless drone.”

  “Miss Philips? Of course I know who she is. Every time I put my name on her dance card she snubs me to dance with Lord Farnsdale or some other titled twit, why would I want to marry her? I prefer women who are good and kind.”

  “Is that so? Then why do your clothes stink of Lady Gillingham’s secret love nest?”

  “Lady Gillingham?” The boy’s eyes filled with disgust and terror. “Uncle Penryth, I swear I’d never visit your mistress.” His eyes swiveled towards Lily and then back to his uncle his injured brain slowly comprehending his faux pas. “I mean…I’d never visit one of your old lovers. The thought makes me sick; she has children!”

  “Yes and very few are related to her husband.”

  “Don’t hate me Uncle Penryth; you’re all I the family I have. You know Carmarthen hates me because my mother wouldn’t marry him. I don’t remember anything, I swear it. Why would I cut off her hair? It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Mr Bowen…” Lily tugged one more time on his nightshirt. “Lady Gillingham was rude about my hair; I told her that you liked it and William did keep saying something about my hair enchanting you. If he spent time with her…”

  “That heartless cow! I feel like pulling all the hair from her nose.”

  “Mr Bowen, please don’t kill anyone.”

  “I’m not going to kill her…I need my pipe.”

  “You don’t hate me?”

  The man ignored the question and headed for the door. “Lily, it’s cold, you should be in bed.” Lily stared at the younger man’s fallen face as he waited in vain for reassurance. Several tears had mixed with blood coming out of his nose. Without hair he looked like a frightened baby. She ignored Mr Bowen’s command and made her way to the water basin sitting on the commode next to the bed. She wrung out the cloth floating in the water and sat on the bed and wiped the blood off his face. “Lily, I can’t leave you in here. He might hurt you.”

  “Uncle Penryth!” William’s look of offended horror was followed by more tears.

  “He doesn’t know who I am. Why would he hurt me?”

  “Because he might be lying; I need my pipe.”

  “Then go have your pipe Mr Bowen.”

  “You need to come with me.”

  “I’ll stay here.”

  “William, if anything happens to her…anything…you’ll wish you’d died an infant.”

  “Uncle Penryth I wouldn’t…” The door closed sharply making both people on the bed wince in pain. “He hates me…” She sopped up the blood and tears and rinsed the cloth as he watched her.

  “He’s upset…”

  “Upset? He punched me in the face! He’s never hit me, not even after I stole one of his pipes and accidentally burned down the carriage house along with his new carriage and curricle. If you hadn’t come in I think he might have killed me.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Did he really marry you?”

  “Yes.”

  “How can he be in love with a woman I’ve never met? Didn’t he introduce us? Is he secretly ashamed of me? Have I done something awful I can’t remember? I mean something even worse than cutting off all your hair?”

  “He’s not in love with me; he married me out of kindness.”

  “No man is that kind and he called you Cariadon. He wouldn’t call you Beloved in Welsh if he didn’t mean it.” Lily froze as her mind was overwhelmed by the possibility of Mr Bowen being in love with her. It was too good to be true; why would he love her? The young man was mistaken. Her heart sank in disappointment. “What did I say? Have I upset you? Please don’t tell Uncle…he’ll kill me. I’m terribly sorry if I hurt you. I’m not a bad person even if Uncle Penryth says I’m a selfish little toad.”

  “You were in love.”

  “I must have been under a spell.”

  “Love does cast a spell. One minute you’re a rational creature with a heart and the next you can’t tell if the sky is above you or below you.”

  “Are you in love with Uncle Penryth?”

  Lily avoided the enquiring eyes. “He married me and I’m very grateful.”

  “Grateful? No wonder he’s upset. Couldn’t you fall in love with him a little? If he felt you loved him, you could persuade him not to hate me.” Lily silently agreed with Mr Bowen’s conclusion that the boy was a selfish toad. She finished wiping his face and stood up.

  “You must be hurting; I’ll go ask the maid to prepare you some laudanum.”

  “What did he call you? Lily? Aunt Lily…I know I don’t deserve your pity after what I did to you, but couldn’t you beg him not to hate me? He’ll listen to you. I’ll think you the best Aunt in the world. He’s all I have left…I don’t even have a memory of a fiancée. Please?”

  “I’ll ask him.”

  “Thank you…he must love you for your kindness.”

  The young man might as well have said Mr Bowen wouldn’t have had any other reason to marry her. The backward compliment was a painful jab. Mr Bowen wasn’t ever going to love her for her kindness or any other reason. William had obviously misunderstood his uncle. “He’s not in love with me. I’ll send in the maid.”

  “What did I say? You sound upset. Don’t tell him I upset you, he’ll kill me.”

  “I’ll ask him not to hate you. Good night William.” Lily closed the young man’s door and shivered in the dark passage way as the smell of sweet tobacco pulled her towards the sitting room. Mr Bowen was standing in front of the fire in his nightshirt, his body outlined against the firelight. She stared at the strange sight. There was something eerie about the way the stiff white fabric responded to his slightest movement over the outline of a man. Any moment he’d transform into a swan. She tiptoed up to the fire and
stared up at him, waiting to see if it would happen. Dark eyes swiveled towards her and the white linen rippled with pleasure.

  “Good. You’re safe.”

  “Don’t hate him, he’s young.”

  “He’s a selfish prat. I’d blame his father, but I’m the one who’s taught him to be a man.”

  “Are you sure you’re a man?” She blushed as he peered at her through a cloud of smoke with a raised eyebrow. “I mean…I know you’re a man…”

  “That’s comforting.”

  “You look so beautiful in white…like a bird.” That hadn’t come out right. He was going to think she was a lunatic. “My head hurts; I’m going back to bed…”

  “What kind of bird? I hope you don’t think I’m like a dove. Carmarthen has a dovecote full of the foul creatures. They appear driven to leave their droppings on anything of value.”

  “I wouldn’t say you were like a dove.”

  “Good. Do you think me a big white gander?”

  “No.”

  “That doesn’t leave many options Cariadon.”

  “What does Cariadon mean?”

  He paused before slowly blowing a mouthful of smoke towards her. “It’s what a Welshman calls his wife.”

  “Oh…”

  “So am I like a big white chicken?”

  “No.”

  “A little white duck?”

  “No.”

  She couldn’t move. Dark eyes held her fast with a knowing smile. “That must mean I look beautiful in white like a swan. That’s an evocative image Mrs Bowen. You know swans mate for life. Have I told you I love your ears? This new hairstyle isn’t all loss. I must get you some earrings.” Her thoughts were thrown into confusion as he traced one of her ears with a finger. “You’d best go back to bed before I start courting you with a display of my finest plumage.” He winked at her and turned away towards the fire. “Good night Cariadon.”

  She couldn’t speak. She stood there staring at his profile until his eyes flickered towards her with a look that promised more than a display and she turned and limped back to his bed hoping he’d follow. She heard the sitting room door open and close and footsteps, but they didn’t come to her. Another door closed suggesting he’d returned to visit his nephew. Impulsively she crawled out of bed again, snuck down the passage and put her ear to William’s keyhole. “I’m not sorry I hit you…” Mr Bowen still sounded angry. “If that bloody traffic had held me up another ten minutes I’d probably be a widow and you’d be in gaol awaiting the hangman.”

  “I’m sorry Uncle Penryth; I didn’t know you were in love with her. I didn’t know you liked fat women.”

  “I’m not in love with her.” Hearing him say the words left no room in her heart for hope to hide. She crouched there feeling faint as tears splattered the floor.

  “But you called her Cariadon. Why do you call her Beloved if you don’t love her?”

  “It’s none of your business what I call my wife.”

  “Well I’m glad you don’t love her because she doesn’t love you.” Lily started in horror; the lying toad was going to ruin her life.

  The room seemed silent for an eternity before Mr Bowen said, “How the hell would you know what my wife feels?”

  “When I asked her if she loved you she said she was grateful that you’d married her. Hardly the words of a woman in love. Why did you marry her?”

  “Because I wanted to…mind your own business. You forfeited nine month’s allowance before attacking my wife; one more unkind word about her and you’ll be penniless till you’re twenty-one, if you live that long.”

  “Nine months? What did I do to lose nine month’s allowance?”

  “You said nine rude things about your Aunt Lily to my face after I warned you not to.”

  “Why did I do that?”

  “Because you were in love with Miss Philips and assumed you’d be marrying her over an anvil, but fortunately for you she changed her mind. You’ll be out of pocket for nine months and if you complain I’ll make it a year.”

  “I must have been insane…you don’t hate me do you?”

  There was a long pause. “No. Go to sleep.” Lily forced her numb legs to hurry back to bed. She pulled the bedcovers over her head and sobbed into a pillow that smelled of Mr Bowen. Her prayer that he wouldn’t come back to bed was answered and she fell asleep exhausted and alone, her head throbbing in time with her aching heart.

  Chapter 17

  Lily woke to find the pounding in her dreams had stopped. She uncovered her head and sat up and winced as the pounding resumed in the next room. The carpenter had arrived to ensure there was no reason for her to sleep in her husband’s bed. She rubbed her sore eyes and focused on the wingback chair in front of the fire. It hadn’t been there the night before. “Mr Bowen?” Her hopes and fears that she’d have to face him were crushed when one of the maids jumped out of the chair and curtsied.

  “Good morning Mrs Bowen. Is there anything I can get you? Mr Bowen said you’re to have whatever you wish. He said if you wanted the moon Mrs Jones was to fetch it.” The young girl giggled in amusement. “Mrs Jones didn’t think that very funny. She told him only a lunatic would want the moon because as everyone knows it’s made of cheese and it’s been there so long it’s probably gone bad. He gave her one of those looks that I wish I could give her and told her not to be daft. If I told Mrs Jones not to be daft she’d clip me round the ear.” The maid skipped over to the bedside and stared at Lily’s head. “Would you like me to trim your hair? It looks like you’re preparing to become a nun. If I was married to Mr Bowen I’d never want to be a nun.”

  “Where is Mr Bowen?”

  “He went out. He left you some gifts on the dressing table. I think the large box is bonbons. It smells sweet.”

  “Did he say if when he’d be back?”

  “He just said a footman was to remain outside your door or near your chair until he returned and that I was to wait on you hand and foot. He said if he returned to find you hurt in any way he’d sack the whole household. Jones thought that rather hard considering he’s known Mr Bowen all his life, but there’s no reasoning with a man in love. My Ma said my Da was the most predictable bore imaginable until he fell in love with her sister then he went mad and spent his life’s savings trying to convince her to marry him, but Aunt Suzie was in love with the baker so she wouldn’t have him so Da married Ma instead.”

  “Didn’t your mother find that painful?”

  “Oh yes Madam, she said if she’d known childbirth would be so painful she’d have died an old maid.”

  “Did your father ever love your mother?”

  “No he tried to pretend Ma was Aunt Suzie, but it didn’t work. A year after I was born he hung himself from the big apple tree with a note in his pocket saying he wanted all the apples on the tree to go to Aunt Suzie, but Ma burned the note and gave them instead to farmer Wilson who was looking for a wife. She thought he fancied her, but he really fancied Aunt Suzie. Mr Wilson sold the cider made from Pa’s apples to buy Aunt Suzie a tallboy as a wedding present. She promised to leave it to me when she dies, but her son says if I want it I’ll have to marry him, but I couldn’t marry a man who’s two years younger than me. I’d feel like his mother.”