by Cari Hislop
“Olive, the chambermaid who sat with Mrs Bowen today has something to tell you. She’s outside in the hall. She says it’s important.”
“I’m in no mood for chambermaids!”
“As you say Sir, but she says this is about Mrs Bowen’s secret. Come in here girl and be brief; the master doesn’t wish to hear you grind like a pepper mill.” The young woman bobbed a curtsey as Jones closed the door behind him leaving the two alone.
“What is it?”
“There’s something I need to tell you, but you have to promise me you won’t tell Mrs Bowen I told you. She’d take my betrayal very hard and I wouldn’t want her to think ill of me, not while I’m working for her; she’s such a kind Mistress…”
“How many secrets has my wife told my chamber maid?”
“Just the one Sir, though I feel responsible for the misunderstanding because I urged her to tell you and I’m afraid you’ll both die of broken hearts and I’ll never forgive myself…”
“Mrs Bowen told me her secret; she’s in love with another man.”
“Forgive me Sir, but that’s not her secret and she didn’t say she was in love with another man neither. You assumed that’s what she said. I was outside the door…waiting for a proper moment to enter with the requested towels.”
“What do you mean that’s not her secret?”
“Promise me you won’t tell Mrs Bowen I told you…”
“Tell me or I’ll sack you.”
“When my poor mother and baby brother depend on my wages?”
“Fine! I promise not to tell Mrs Bowen, now tell me before I instruct Mrs Jones to dock your pay for listening at keyholes.”
Olive tiptoed closer and dropped her voice to a whisper as if his wife might have her ear near the door. “Mrs Bowen has been in love with you since she was a girl, after she chased your hat in a garden…”
Penryth’s heart moaned in ecstasy as his glare melted into a dazed smile. “Since she was a girl?”
“Yes, that’s her secret. You asked her if she loved a man. How could she lie when the man she loves asked the question? She had to say that she did love a man only you assumed it was some other wretch and then you know what happened…”
“If you’re making this up I swear you’ll regret it.”
“May God take Aunt Suzie before she can leave me her tallboy in a will if I am; ask Mrs Bowen if she loves you. You won’t be disappointed.”
“She loves me?” His ill-written love story had been thrown on the fire. Charred pieces of paper, their glowing edges still burning the remains of an unhappy ending fluttered up the chimney of his soul leaving purified contentment. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“In my village we had a spinster, Miss Atwood, who fell in love with Mr Chandler. Seven years his elder, she watched him from a distance wishing she was younger. She was certain people would laugh at him if they knew so she suffered in silence for four years. Of course everyone knew she loved him; every time he came into view her cheeks would turn as red as a beetroot and her eyes would grow twice as big. One Sunday after church he greeted her in the aisle and complimented her bonnet. She swooned and he caught her in his strong arms…he was the local miller and was used to carrying heavy bags of corn; he’d inherited the mill from his father who was killed by a highwayman so he could afford to pick up penniless old maids without fearing a beating. So Mr Chandler carried her to the parsonage, but when he set her on the bed he couldn’t leave her. He was still there when she came to her senses. He confessed he’d been in love with her since he was eighteen when they’d shared a country dance at the Harvest festival. Miss Atwood protested she was too old for him, but he refused to let her be a ninny and they had a lusty son nine months later. When Mr Chandler took her up to London to buy a hat she fell into the Thames and was swept away. He was heartbroken and furious that he’d lost four years of happiness because he was afraid people would laugh at him for loving an older woman.”
“My wife thinks people will laugh at her?”
“Worse, she thinks you’ll be unmoved.”
“How the blazes would I remain unmoved? Does she think me heartless?”
“You shouldn’t take it personally Mr Bowen. Life has been unkind to her. The way she holds herself reminds me of Mrs Applewood whose husband beat her until one day she went into the forest with Mr Applewood’s life savings and ate a goodly number of poisonous mushrooms. They still haven’t found the money.”
“Where do you come from?”
“Sanderstead in Surrey…”
“I’ll have to remember never to go there. Where is Mrs Bowen?”
“Last I saw her she was at the table crying on a nice bit of fish.”
Dismissing the maid, Penryth tried to pretend he was calm as his heart played a drum-roll on his chest urging him to action. The dining room was on the ground floor, closer to the kitchen which was below ground. Reaching the first floor landing he stopped; Lily was half way to the top, taking one stair at a time. It was an excellent opportunity to help her; an excellent excuse to touch her. The thought sent a wave of euphoria crashing into his brain. “Is your knee still giving you pain Mrs Bowen?”
Chapter 21
Lily’s head jerked back in shock. Mr Bowen was standing on the landing smiling at her. Was she hearing things? Was he humming? She stared in confusion; the snarling enraged husband had somehow been transformed into a smiling gallant. He was looking at her as if she were the most desirable woman he’d ever seen; as if her face didn’t still have faint bruises, her hair hadn’t been hacked off with a penknife and she wasn’t too fat to pick up and carry to his bed. Had he fallen over and hit his head? Had he mixed too much lettuce opium into his tobacco? “Mr Bowen? Are you ill?”
“I feel prodigiously well. Your knee, are you in pain?”
“Only a little, it’s getting better…”
The man skipped down the stairs and stopped beside her. “I insist you let me help you to your room.” His hand slid over her back and came to rest on her side as he leaned over to brush his nose against her cheek. “Heaven must smell like you…”
Lily raised a hand to test his forehead and found it captured and pressed against smiling lips. “You feel warm. Are you burning with fever?”
“Not with fever…” He pressed her hand to the side of his head as if wanted her to caress him.
“Why aren’t you angry with me?”
“Why would I be angry with my Cariadon?” He laughed as if he’d said something amusing.
“Because you left the table upset with me.”
“An unpleasant misunderstanding… You haven’t kissed me since yesterday. Do you know what happens when husbands don’t get regular kisses?”
“They find a mistress?”
“No, they creep into their wife’s bed after she’s gone to sleep and sing sickly ballads in her ear. Would you rather dream of being chased by a love-sick ram or spend a few hours kissing me? I hope I won’t have to transform into a swan to win some kisses.”
“You’ve transformed enough for one evening Mr Bowen and I think whatever herb you’ve mixed with your tobacco needs to be used in a smaller dose.”
“I haven’t had a pipe since morning.” He abandoned her hand on his cheek to silently admire her padded ribs. Gooseflesh formed on the right side of her body as warm breath filled her right ear, “I’m sorry I was a pig this evening. While I was out I imagined returning; you’d run into my arms and tell me you’d missed me and then you’d kiss me as if you hadn’t seen me for at least a year, not that I’d ever leave you for a year. Of course if you were imagining this other man…”
“I wanted to run to you and kiss you…”
“Why didn’t you?” He sounded deeply disappointed.
“You were glaring at me.”
“I’m not glaring now…”
“No, you’re smiling like a lunatic.”
A deep rumble of amusement vibrated her ear causing her own lips to form a smile. “Are you ha
ppy being my wife?”
“Yes.”
Dark eyes sparkled like a summer evening sky holding her spellbound. “And you’ll never leave me for this other man?”
She tipped back her head allowing light fingers to more easily caress her throat. “No.”
“Would he in any way make a better husband?” His lips briefly saluted the skin below her nose taunting her parted lips with future kisses.
She gulped in panic as her knees threatened to give way and send her tumbling backwards down the stairs. “Pardon?” She had no idea what he’d just said.
“This man who owns your heart…” Her lower lip was lightly clasped between his teeth and then set free before she could kiss him. “…would he be a better husband?”
“No.” It was a choked whisper as his smiling lips hovered inches away.
“Do you think me wicked for wanting you to myself?”
“No.”
“Good.” The amusement in his eyes faded as he licked his lips. “Lily…” Her name was a sigh of longing as he claimed her next breath. She was weightless, floating in his arms until he ended the kiss with a deep moan as if separating caused him pain. Resting his nose against her cheek, his breath skimmed her lips like distant kisses.
“Mr Bowen, there is no…” Her parted lips were reclaimed, her confession dissolved by the magic spell cast by her husband’s ragged breath. Her arms were transforming into wings; she was going to fly away with her swan and live east of the sun and west of the moon. The sound of a carriage pulling up outside the house and the knock on the door were left far behind her in the cruel world.
A door in that other world opened and the sound of hysterical sobbing in-between angry demands burst into the entrance hall and rolled up the stairs as if a wicked witch had cast a spell that would extinguished Lily’s feathers. “Mr Bowen! I must speak with William…take your hands off me…Penryth!” Lily sighed in disappointment as her companion’s lips abandoned her to the cold as he glanced down at her sister. She unconsciously leaned into his arms as she turned to look over her shoulder. “I must speak with William. Is he at home?”
“William’s indisposed.” Lily felt warm and safe as Mr Bowen’s cold reply rumbled through her body. The panic on seeing Rosamund ebbed away allowing her to look past the obvious and see the bow of her sister’s bonnet was coming untied and under the tears her sister’s beautiful features were contorted with anxiety and fear.
“I know he must be upset with Grace, but he loves her and she needs him…please let me talk with him. If he knew…”
“Madam, if my house was on fire I’d have to carry him out of it. William’s in no condition to use his commode unaided, let alone rescue a jilting fiancée. If the girl’s in trouble go tell your husband to do his duty.”
“He said good riddance and ordered another bottle. Morley offered to take Grace for a ride in the park…she should have been home hours ago. His town house is being closed up. The maid said he wouldn’t be returning to London until next season. He’s going to drag my darling girl off to some stinking Inn, ruin her and then abandon her. You’re her uncle, you have to save her!”
“After three hours Morley’s either in a ditch with his eyes scratched out or your daughter is happily riding northward in the hope of becoming the next Lady Morley. You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped. If Grace believes Morley will marry her then all you can do is send your carriage to his country seat and leave it there until she willingly climbs into it.”
“I’m not going to stand by and allow that beast to ruin my little girl without a wedding license. It’ll ruin me…”
“You should have thought of that before calling Morley in to help you weave a sticky web for my nephew. You should have known a web spinner like Morley would be tempted to devour your pretty little girl.”
“Are you saying it’s my fault?”
“You allowed Morley to carry her away. Who else is there to blame?”
Rosamund’s angry eyes swivelled towards Lily. “This is all her fault! If she hadn’t thrown herself at you my darling girl would have happily married William. Grace has her heart set on being a countess; you can hardly blame her for eloping with one of the most eligible Earls in the country. She wouldn’t have needed to elope with Morley if Lily hadn’t ruined everything.”
“Don’t blame my wife for your incompetent mothering.”
“Of course it’s her fault; Lily was the one in the nursery spoiling my babies. It’s her fault they’re all rotten! The brats haven’t stopped screaming since that fat lazy pig abandoned us. How am I supposed to cope? I can’t save Grace by sitting in the nursery covered in pap.”
“No, it’s a little late for that. Morley will take the most obvious route; probably the Great North Road. He knows your husband’s a drunk. He’ll post at the first decent inn. You’ll find her eventually. Take your footmen and be prepared to face your daughter’s wrath. I doubt she’ll want to be rescued.”
“I can’t face Morley on my own.”
“Why not? You were happy to send your daughter off to ride with him in the park.”
“I had to do something. She needed a replacement husband thanks to that selfish cow who ruined everything.”
“If you insult my wife again you’ll have to leave.”
“I’m upset. My darling girl is missing. Would you be calm if your daughter was in Morley’s clutches? Please help me find her…I need your help.”
“Convince Mrs Bowen to ask me to save her niece and I’ll consider it.”
Rosamund turned a hastily composed mask of contrition towards Lily. “I lost my temper. I’m sorry. I’m human! Don’t let Grace suffer because of me. She’s only seventeen; just a girl! You were seventeen when you came to live with us…”
Lily blinked back tears of rage as she stared down at her sister. “Slaves are treated better. The only reason I didn’t kill myself…” Lily’s eyes slid towards her husband.
“Well something good came out of it; Mr Bowen married you didn’t he? Would you be so comfortable if I hadn’t beaten you?”
Lily’s savior growled as his hand on her waist pulled her closer as if he could protect her from unkind words. She stared down at the sobbing woman with hands outstretched begging for mercy knowing as soon as Grace was safe her sister would forget any kindness. She glanced at the man beside her and found those fathomless eyes watching her. “Mr Bowen, would you help my niece?”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a child who needs to be rescued.”
“I’d rather stay here with you, but if you wish it Cariadon… Shall you help me change?” She could hear in his voice he wanted to protect her from her sister.
“I’ll wait here. Don’t forget your pocket book or your pipe…”
He leaned over and whispered, “I certainly won’t forget my wife; even if I’m only gone a few hours I’ll be hoping for an enthusiastic welcome on my return. Will you miss me?”
“Yes.”
“Good!”
The woman at the bottom of the stairs glared up at them as if their whispered tête-à-tête was interrupting her life. “Do you expect me to stand here and wait while you pleasure my sister on the stairs? We’ll find Grace dead in a ditch at this rate.”
Mr Bowen turned a raised eyebrow towards his sister-in-law. “Harm my wife in any way and you’ll face Morley on your own.” Lily smiled her gratitude into dark eyes and then the man in red was running up the stairs and calling for Goodman to help him dress. He might be gone for hours or days. She stood there for an eternity staring down at her sister before taking a deep breath. With trembling knees she descended. Holding her head up she stepped down to stand next to her sister, her muscles tight with fear.
