The Painter's Apprentice (32 page)

She recoiled and raised a hand to slap his face.

His eyes glittering like jet, Harry caught her wrist in a grip of iron. ‘I like a woman with spirit. So much more fun when
there’s a challenge.’

‘
Nothing
would induce me to marry you.’

‘I understand you need a little time to consider my proposal.’

‘You disgust me,’ she hissed. ‘And all this time you have played with Cecily’s feelings … I tell you, even if I hadn’t already
given my heart to another, I would rather marry the Devil than you!’

The colour drained from Harry’s face with such speed that Beth would have laughed if she hadn’t been boiling with rage.

‘You’ve given your heart to another?’ He squeezed her wrist until she whimpered. ‘Who?’ He twisted her arm sharply, shoving
her hard against the wall. ‘Who is it?’ He was so close to Beth that a fleck of spittle landed on her face.

She flinched and turned her face aside.

‘It’s that damned red-headed cousin of yours, isn’t it?’ He shook her wrist again. ‘Isn’t it? I
thought
Noah was sniffing around you with the face of a moon-sick calf. God’s teeth, as if that family didn’t have enough money of
their own already!’

He relaxed his hold on her a fraction and Beth took her chance. With all her strength she twisted back sharply to face him,
ramming her elbow forcefully into his crotch.

Caught by surprise, he doubled over, moaning and cursing.

Heaving him aside, she scrambled to the other side of the room. ‘Now get out!’ she said. ‘And don’t come near me, or my family,
again.’

Slowly, Harry stood upright again and walked towards her, his face contorted by spite. ‘Well, then! Did Noah forget to tell
you about Hannah Sharpe? You’d better ask him about his plans to marry
her
this Christmastide.’

Beth gasped, his word like a kick to her stomach. ‘It isn’t true!’

‘I’m afraid, my dear, that it is. So, you see, you had much better be
my
wife.’ He reached out to touch her throat and she stepped back. ‘You may act as if you are outraged but I sense you are ripe
for the plucking. And I assure you, I am the man to do it.’

He came at her again then, forcing her back against the wall, his eyes slitted with lust.

Beth drew in her breath as he seized her hair, yanking her head towards him. She tried to scream but he covered her mouth
with his own, kissing her savagely.

She struggled wildly in his hard embrace, trying in vain to push him away.

Laughing, Harry scrabbled at the neckline of her bodice, tearing at the fragile silk until he could scoop out her breast with
his greedy hand and bend to suck on her nipple.

Her mouth freed, Beth screamed and kicked, beating at his head with her fists. Then, over his shoulder, she saw Cecily’s shocked
face in the open doorway and behind her, Noah.

Noah hurled himself at them with a roar, dragging Harry away from Beth and punching him on the jaw.

Beth gathered up the torn silk to cover her naked breast and fell back, shaking, while Cecily began to shriek.

Grunting, the two men grappled together, locked in a fierce embrace as they crashed around the room, upsetting a table and
shattering a vase of roses. They knocked pictures off the walls, ornaments went flying and they became entangled in the curtains,
which were ripped from their hooks as they staggered against the window.

Noah was scarlet with fury and although the smaller and leaner of
the two men, he was driven by rage. At last he wrestled Harry to the ground, straddled him, and sat on his stomach. ‘I’ll
make you sorry you ever touched a hair of her head,’ he yelled, banging Harry’s head again and again against the floor.

Harry kicked and struggled but he was running out of steam. Flailing his arms, he reached inside his coat to pull out his
knife.

Beth, still trembling with shame and disgust, saw the blade glint.

Harry raised the knife high, aiming it at Noah’s chest.

Cecily gave a blood-curdling scream.

Beth snatched up a chair which she swung with all her might at Harry’s arm to deflect the blow.

The knife clattered to the floor.

‘Son of a whore!’ Harry yelled.

Noah let go of Harry’s throat. Blood, flicked off Noah’s cheek, and spattered on to Lady Arabella’s pale blue silk upholstery.

Sir George, Joshua and Samuel came running into the room and wrenched the two men apart.

Noah’s face was running with blood and Harry nursed his wrist, moaning.

‘This is an absolute disgrace!’ bellowed Sir George. ‘You will leave this place at once!’

The twins dragged a cursing and struggling Harry out of the room.

The front door slammed.

Lady Arabella appeared and burst into loud lamentations at the sight of the devastation that had been her parlour.

Cecily rocked backwards and forwards, shrieking hysterically.

Beth ran to her and gripped her in a tight embrace but Cecily caught her breath on a sob and pushed her away. When Beth glanced
at Noah she bit back an exclamation of horror. ‘You’re hurt!’

Noah’s cheek had been sliced open in a terrible wound stretching from his ear to his jaw.

Beth turned to Lady Arabella. ‘We need clean water and bandages. At once!’

Lady Arabella’s expression was coldly unforgiving. ‘Take him into the kitchen. And I do not expect to see him in my house
again. Ever.’

The cook exclaimed in dismay when she saw the blood streaming down Noah’s cheek and soaking into his shirt. She sat them down
in the scullery, dismissed the kitchen maid and brought a basin of water and clean cloths herself.

‘Now you call me if you need any help,’ she said. ‘Poor young gentleman, you’ll bear that scar until your grave.’

Noah sat silent and pale-faced while Beth, sick and trembling, cleaned the gaping wound. She pulled the edges of the skin
together as best she could, wrapped the bandage under his chin and over the top of his head, concentrating all the while on
her actions and thrusting away again and again of the awful memory of Harry’s revelation about Noah’s betrothed. ‘You must
see a doctor,’ she said.

‘I’ll never forgive myself for not being there when you needed me,’ said Noah.

Beth couldn’t meet his eyes. She was defiled by Harry’s touch.

‘If you hadn’t gone for Harry with that chair he’d have stabbed me in the chest. I might have died.’ Noah reached out to take
her in his arms.

Beth stepped back. ‘Don’t!’ she said, her chin quivering. How could she possibly bear it? An agonising pain began to grow
somewhere deep in her belly, blossoming upwards as if she was being eviscerated.

‘Beth?’

‘When were you going to tell me about your engagement to Hannah Sharpe?’ she asked in a light, conversational tone, praying
that Harry had lied to her out of spite.

He froze, his brown eyes wary. ‘Hannah?’

‘Yes, Hannah. I believe you mentioned she is your neighbour? But you forgot to tell me she is also your betrothed.’

Noah’s arms fell down to his side and he seemed to shrink. ‘Who told you? Harry, I suppose?’

‘Who else?’ Her last vestige of hope died. Then rage came seething up and boiled over. ‘Do you have so little respect for
me that you could not tell me the truth?’ she hissed. ‘You encouraged me to fall in love with you, knowing all the while that
you would break my heart!’

‘It wasn’t like that!’

‘Yes, it was exactly like that.’ There was a deep sense of unreality about their conversation. Was it only that morning they
had exchanged passionate kisses and she had been so certain of his love?

‘I never meant to fall in love with you.’

His voice was quiet and full of pain. For a second she longed to comfort him in her arms, overcome by the knowledge that his
handsome face was ruined by the hideous wound.

‘I tried not to fall in love with you. And you were so set on living at Merryfields and remaining a spinster that, when it
was too late and I already loved you, I still thought my life could carry on as before.’

Beth’s throat began to constrict while deep in her chest a knife twisted, cutting out her heart. ‘Forget me, as I shall forget
you. And go home to Hannah. I’ll not be instrumental in breaking a betrothal.’

‘Beth …’

‘Please, just go!’ The tearing sensation in her breast grew worse and she was nearly choking from holding back an eruption
of weeping.

‘I’ll always love you. Nothing will ever change that.’ He stared at her for a long second and then, white-faced, left the
room.

She stared at the basin of water, crimson with Noah’s blood. Suddenly faint with shock, she rested her head on her arms on
the scullery table, amongst the dirty pots and pans. Strangely, she couldn’t cry after all but her mind raced. Everything
fell into place: Noah’s reticence in spite of the fact that he seemed to love her, his
moodiness and odd behaviour when he talked to her about his dream house. And then his urgent desire to return to Virginia.

The scullery maid looked in with anxious eyes.

‘Come in; I’ve finished now,’ said Beth.

The hall was silent and empty. Beth caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and dazed and there were red
marks on her shoulders. A loosened lock of hair hung over her breast. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she pinned the curl
back into place while she fought down a wave of sickness.

Lady Arabella stood by the window in the parlour. ‘I shall have to redecorate and have new furniture.’ She closed her eyes,
shuddering. ‘Look at my chairs all spattered in blood and the curtains torn and defiled! And Sir George has left me alone
amongst the wreckage and hurried off with the twins back to Court.’

‘Where is Cecily?’

‘The foolish child ran after Harry de Montford.’

Beth caught her breath. ‘You didn’t stop her?’

‘She’ll soon come running back with her tail between her legs.’

‘But Harry is dangerous!’

Lady Arabella raised her eyebrows. ‘I can only say, Beth
Ambrose, that men are
not
dangerous unless a woman flaunts herself and encourages him to indulge in his baser instincts.’

Too angry to speak, Beth swept from the room, barely resisting the desire to slam the door behind her.

She ran helter-skelter down the lane towards the river stairs, heedless of the stones cutting into her satin slippers and
the brambles snatching at her silken skirts. The sultry heat of the day had barely abated and perspiration pricked under her
arms and ran in rivulets between her breasts.

A stitch pulled sharply in her side but, panting hard, she forced herself on. Dread at the thought of seeing Harry again consumed
her but the fear of finding that he had assaulted Cecily was even greater. She prayed that he’d already caught a boat back
to the city before Cecily reached the river stairs.

As she sprinted towards the end of the lane she caught a glimpse of Cecily’s new gold and red dress through the trees. Then
she saw that Harry was at her side.

Sobbing, Beth raced on, bursting out through the copse on to the river path.

Cecily clung to Harry’s coat front and he had one arm around her waist.

‘Let her go, Harry!’ Beth heaved for breath, her heart thumping.

Harry’s face twisted into a sneer. ‘Your sister and I have an understanding,’ he said.

Cecily, her eyes shining with joy, smiled widely at Beth. ‘Harry says he made a terrible mistake. It’s me he loves and we’re
going away to be married.’

Shock coursed through Beth’s veins. ‘Didn’t you
see
what he did to me, Cecily?’

An expression of distaste flashed across Cecily’s face. ‘Harry explained that. It was unforgivable of you to throw yourself
at him like that, especially when you know that it’s me he loves. I never realised you were so jealous of me, Beth.’

‘Jealous?’ Beth laughed. ‘He doesn’t love you at all, Cecily.’

‘Of course Harry loves me. He never even
asked
me if I have a dowry so that proves it!’

It was too much for Beth. She grasped her sister’s arm and shook it. ‘No, it doesn’t!

Cecily, still clinging to Harry’s coat front, turned her face up to his. ‘You do love me, don’t you?’

Harry had become very still. ‘Well now,’ he drawled. ‘No dowry?’

Cecily shook her head. ‘None at all.’ Her smile wavered as he prised her fingers free of his coat.

‘Then I’ve been misinformed.’ His lips tightened into a thin line. ‘I shall have to take Joshua to task about that. I’m afraid,
my dear, that you must seek a husband who’ll overlook such an impediment.’ Without even a backward glance, he hurried towards
the landing stage, where a boat was waiting.

Cecily stared in disbelief as he vaulted into the boat. ‘Harry!’

Beth snatched at her sister’s wrist. She noticed the gown of golden silk was adorned with vulgar knots of scarlet ribbons,
the bodice cut far too low for a young girl. No matter, there would be no further opportunity for Cecily to flaunt herself
in front of Harry de Montford.

‘Don’t leave me, Harry!’ Cecily screamed, fighting to free herself from Beth’s grasp. She wrenched her hand away and ran to
the landing stage but the boat had already reached the middle of the river. ‘Harry, come back!’ Cecily broke into a storm
of noisy tears, her mouth open in a square of sorrow as she wailed and wept.

Beth went to comfort her but Cecily shook her off. ‘This is all
your
fault!’ she spat. ‘And now he’s gone for ever! I can’t live without Harry. I want to die!’

‘Don’t say such a terrible thing!’

Cecily pulled at her hair and began to shriek again, lost in
despair. ‘I cannot bear the pain!’ she howled. She turned to face the river and held her arms out at her side.

Before Beth could react, Cecily threw herself in the river with a noisy splash.

‘Cecily!’ Beth watched in horror as she sank below the surface. A second later Cecily’s head reappeared. She flailed at the
water, then sank again.

Beth didn’t hesitate. She kicked off her shoes and jumped from the landing stage. She gasped as she went under, bobbed up
and burst into the light once more. Cecily had already been dragged some yards away by the current.

Beth hadn’t swum in the river since she was a child, when she hadn’t been hampered by long skirts. She struck out towards
Cecily, fighting against the current as the weight of several yards of waterlogged silk dragged her down.

Cecily thrashed and screamed and sank and came up for air but her cries were becoming weaker and each time she became submerged
she stayed under the water for longer.

Cecily’s panic was so great that when Beth reached her she was only able to catch hold of her arm and was kicked in the stomach
for her pains.

Cecily’s head went under the water again and she came up choking.

Thoroughly frightened now, Beth saw that Cecily was weakening. Her eyes were wide with terror and her face turned grey as
she took great whooping breaths, fighting for air. Then her eyes closed and she slid down below the surface of the water.

‘No!’ screamed Beth. Taking a deep breath she dived down into the green depths of a dim and silent world. Her skirts billowed
around; and she felt them catch on an underwater branch. The silk ripped as she frantically kicked her feet to thrust herself
in Cecily’s direction. Slimy weed wrapped itself around her legs, tugging at her ankles.

She thought for a moment that she had grasped Cecily’s skirt but as she rose to the surface she saw it was only a piece of
old sacking. She dragged in a lungful of air and went down again.

There was a movement below her and she reached out. Her fingers caught hold of something. It felt tougher than weed and she
pulled on it until Cecily’s face, pale and still, loomed up out of the murky depths. She dragged on Cecily’s hair to heave
her up towards the surface.

Cecily remained motionless, her eyes closed.

Coughing and choking, Beth’s own strength was fading and it was an almost impossible task to support her sister’s weight.
She slipped into a dreamlike state where all movement was slowed down. All she knew was that she must keep Cecily’s face out
of the water but that she couldn’t turn her over.

Suddenly, the river churned beside her and Cecily was dragged from her arms.

‘I have her,’ Noah said. ‘Float on your back and I’ll fetch you in a minute. Can you do that?’

She nodded, too shocked to answer. Rolling on to her back she found that she floated and only needed to kick her legs to propel
herself towards the bank. After a moment, her head nudged a clump of reeds; she grasped them and pulled herself up. Tripping
over her sodden skirts, she barely had the strength to crawl out of the water, never mind to stand.

Noah had placed Cecily face down on the bank and was pressing the water out of her lungs. She lay waxen white and deathly
still and a dread such as Beth had never experienced before clawed at her, rendering her speechless.

Grim-faced, Noah continued to press rhythmically on Cecily’s back.

A terrible trembling began in Beth’s hands, spreading up her arms and throughout her body while she whispered the Lord’s Prayer.

At last Noah sat back. ‘Beth,’ he said in a voice full of sorrow, ‘she’s gone.’

‘No! Don’t stop!’

He hesitated only a fraction of a second before bending over Cecily again.

Beth closed her eyes, rocking herself back and forth in an agony of despair. She pictured Cecily as a little girl climbing
on to her knee to be told a story, saw the excitement in her lovely green eyes as she dressed for her first ball and wondered
how she could possibly tell Mama and Father that she hadn’t been able to save her.

A cough made her snap her eyes open.

Noah pushed down on Cecily’s back until a trickle and then a gush of green liquid came from Cecily’s mouth. Her foot twitched;
she moaned.

Beth sobbed and snatched her sister’s hand, hope flaring in her breast. She smoothed a sodden strand of black hair off Cecily’s
face.

Cecily coughed again, more violently this time.

A few minutes later she was sitting up, encircled in Beth’s arms. Beth wept and shook and covered her sister’s face in kisses,
hardly daring to believe that Cecily had come back to her again.

Noah cleared his throat and Beth saw that blood and tears ran unchecked down his own face. After a while, he lifted Cecily
to her feet. ‘Can you walk?’ he asked, ‘or shall I carry you?’

Cecily collapsed against him, burying her face in his shoulder.

Noah hoisted her into his arms and carried her along the path.

Beth, too full of emotion to speak, trailed her wet skirts behind them.

Noah carefully deposited Cecily on the front steps of Lady Arabella’s house. ‘Will you be all right from here?’ he asked.

Beth nodded. ‘I daren’t ask you in. Go on back to the palace and put on some dry clothes. And ask Judith to change your bandage,
will you?’ The blood had soaked through the dressing and was dripping off his chin, staining his shirt-front.

Noah caught her hand and before she could stop him, pressed it to his lips.

Though it broke her heart all over again, she pulled it away. ‘Thank you for saving Cecily. There aren’t the words …’ She
took a deep breath to steady herself.

Noah glanced at Cecily, drenched and motionless, staring at the ground. ‘Look after her.’

Numb, Beth watched him walk away. When he disappeared from sight, she led her sister indoors, deeply thankful that Lady Arabella
was nowhere to be seen.

Cecily made no protest as Beth undressed her. She lay in bed with her eyes shut, shivering and icy cold.

Beth picked the sodden mess of Cecily’s golden dress up off the floor. The dye had run from the knots of vulgar scarlet ribbons
and blotched the silk with ugly stains.

Cecily whimpered and Beth sat beside her, stroking her hand until she slept.

Moving as slowly as an old woman, Beth unlaced her own bodice and took off her soaked and ruined dress. The neckline was torn
and there was a gaping rent in the skirt. No matter. It was tainted with grief and shame; she would never wear it again.

Pouring water from the ewer into the basin, Beth washed herself. She paid special attention to her breast, scrubbing so hard
that her skin became reddened and sore. Revulsion made her shudder as she remembered Harry de Montford’s wet lips, violating
her with his touch.

When at last she felt cleansed she slipped a freshly laundered nightshift over her head. The cotton caught over her face and
she was overcome with panic again as she recalled her frenzied groping underwater to find Cecily. Freeing her face she ran
to the window to lean out and gulp in the warm night air.

After a while, her breathing steadied. She leaned her forehead against the cool stone of the window frame. Somewhere out there
in the dark was Noah: Noah who had stolen her heart and deceived her. The pain of his betrayal rose up in her again and she
grasped at the heavy window drapes, pressing them to her mouth to muffle the terrible cry that forced its way out of her,
a long drawn-out howl of the utmost misery and despair.