A Companion for Life (16 page)

“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?”

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 happy 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
lo
st 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.