An Inconvenient Trilogy (53 page)

Chapter 14  

Charles kept out of the way of Martha as much as was possible over the coming days, although he could not avoid her as much as he would have liked to have done. It stung. Her rejection had hurt him more than he would have ever predicted.

He prided himself on being sensible, calm, collected, and yet, whenever Martha Fairfield was in his presence, he seemed to turn into a gabbling fool. He had asked her to marry him. The problem was, rather than descending into panic when the realisation of what he had done had sunk in, and being relieved that she had all but laughed in his face, he was hurt. She was the only woman he had ever asked to marry him, or was likely to, and he had received a categorical rejection.

He was absolutely convinced that she liked him though. No one could respond to a kiss in such a passionate way and feel indifferent. The memory of her pulling his hair and tugging him towards her, he would not forget in a hurry. She had been inexperienced, but eager in the way she responded to his kiss. Somehow the fact that she was untouched by anyone, made him feel even more for her than he already did.

She obviously had some feelings for him, but she was so controlled, she had stopped things just when they were about to get interesting. He could still almost feel the material of her dress along his leg. If only he had not hurried her, of course she would pull away at that point. She was a genteel lady and he had moved things too fast. He had forgotten that she was of a higher class than him and he cursed himself. Of course she was better than him and he had tried to lower her to his level by dragging her onto the seat.

To be told that she disliked him after they had kissed, had stung his pride. How she could say something so cutting, when he had been barely able to breathe, never mind think, but she had brought him down to size. It was clear that although she was facing a future that was bleak, his proposal was repugnant to her. She obviously felt that he was no good for her. He would just have to be a man and treat her as coolly as she treated him, and if he could forget that kiss, he would be able to.

*

Martha was determined that there would be no opportunity for any more foolishness, but as time went on, she did start to feel guilty about her actions. Charles had treated her with nothing but concern and kindness, and she had been offensive. She inwardly cringed at the very thought of the way she had reacted. She had been brought up to behave with more consideration and respect for others, and was secretly ashamed of her behaviour.

Always the practical one, she decided that things had to be cleared between them and so waited until the bad weather had eased and Alfred and Laura had returned to their excursions outside. She did not want anyone to interrupt when she was begging forgiveness.

Charles looked surprised when Martha entered the study and closed the door. He did not have time to utter any sarcastic comment, as she approached the desk and stood before it, like a naughty school girl.

“I need to speak to you Charles, about last week,” Martha started, not quite meeting his gaze.

“Which part of last week?” Charles asked, suppressing a smile, when his words caused a panicked glance, and then a flush in Martha’s cheeks.

“I behaved rudely and in a manner that you didn’t deserve. Your proposal was made out of kindness and I am ashamed that I responded so poorly,” she replied.

“Have you reconsidered?” Charles asked, his voice expressing the surprise he felt, and much to his mortification, the hope.

Martha met his gaze, her expression showing the confusion she felt at his response. “No, I didn’t take it seriously.”

“I see,” Charles responded, his face shuttered.

“I am sorry, I know you must detest me for how I have behaved and although I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I hope that we can continue to rub along as we were prior to our silliness,” Martha said quickly.

Charles seemed to sag at Martha’s words. He looked at her and rubbed his hand through his hair, partly in frustration, partly to try and keep control of his temper. “Silliness Martha? I obviously don’t know you at all, if you thought what we shared was nothing more than silliness.”

Martha winced, she had practiced time and again how she would behave, how she would explain herself. She had even hoped that he would laugh about it and wave her embarrassment away, but standing in front of him was totally different to what she had imagined. He looked hurt at her words. She struggled with this, for she thought he had disliked her as much as she had disliked him. Well, perhaps she had not disliked so much as been annoyed at him, felt unsure around him.

Why this had happened she was struggling to understand. They had different roles within the house, there was no need for any antagonism to have developed. He was a handsome man and was charming, she had seen that so many times since she had met him. It was not disputed that the staff, Lord and Lady Dunham and anyone they came into contact, all liked Charles Anderton, everyone apart from herself.

Martha was a reasonable person, she had never made an enemy in her life, as far as she knew, but there was something about Charles that unsettled her. She had tossed and turned at night about it enough times before they had shared the kiss, but since then, she had barely had an hour’s uninterrupted sleep. He had made her long for something that she had accepted was beyond her reach, and her insides were in constant turmoil because of it.

If she could have confided in someone, they would have said that she was a fool and told her to accept the marriage proposal. She knew that the marriage would give her everything she had wanted and needed, a husband, future security and maybe, if it was not too late, children of her own. So what was holding her back? She had no idea, just the uncomfortable feeling that he had asked her to marry him out of pity or on the spur of the moment and she felt that she could not accept a proposal on those terms.

Foolish, she most certainly was, but the only thing she had left was her pride and she could not sacrifice that for the security of a marriage. She was strong enough to sort this out, but Charles’ reaction had confused her, and knocked her off balance. He seemed so upset at her words, and she had not expected that.

She tried to make light of it. “It was a moment of madness, surely you must see that?” She was struggling to find the right words, to make things as they were before she started worrying about the feelings of the man in front of her.

“Must I?” Charles said, “I remember being perfectly serious when I was kissing you. I could not have taken that lightly.” He had moved around the desk until he was too close to Martha, unable to resist making her feel as uncomfortable as he was.

Martha took a step back, her heart beginning to pound. This was the moment she should leave the room, but instead she stood watching Charles as he matched her step away from him, with a step of his own. “Charles?” she asked nervously.

“Yes?” he replied. He did not want to kiss her. He was annoyed that she made him feel as if he meant nothing to her, when his dreams were haunted by her, but he could not help himself.

Martha stood still, her shoulders stiff, but she nibbled her lip, giving away the turmoil she was feeling. “We need to be civil to each other, while we are living under the same roof,” she said, but the look in Charles’ eyes was making her think that he was not actually hearing her words.

Charles reached out and stroked Martha’s face, “I want to always live under the same roof as you,” he said quietly.

Martha flushed, not sure whether it was his touch or his words that had affected her, but she stood motionless.

“Nothing to say, Martha?” Charles asked, continuing to stroke her cheek. “Are you not flattered that I want to live in the same home as you? That I want to be able to take care of you?”

Martha’s mind was racing, this was not what she had been expecting, or anticipated. He was offering to look after her, she felt herself weaken and lean towards him slightly.

“Would you like that Martha?” Charles whispered, before leaning down and kissing her. He was gentle, certain that at any moment she would pull away from him, but she did not.

Martha’s inner voice was telling her to move away, to push him away, but her body was telling her something completely different. She leaned into Charles and wrapped her arms around his neck, grasping at his hair. He was taller than her, and she had never felt that two people needed to fit together before now, but that was how she felt, as if they slotted together in perfect symmetry.

Charles welcomed Martha’s movements with an appreciative groan. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. He was amused and aroused by the way she returned his kiss, she had obviously remembered everything they had done the first time. He nibbled along her jawline and down her neck, squeezing her when she arched her neck to allow him better access, moaning gently with pleasure.

God, she felt good and she was his. He returned to her lips, not wanting to leave them alone for long. This was what he had dreamed of, knowing what lay underneath that calm exterior. She was responsive and passionate and he wanted her.

His hands moved to her bottom and pulled her into him. He needed her to feel what effect she was having on him, but the movement caused a gasp. Martha pulled her hands from his hair and pushed him away slightly.

“Charles, I….” she said, breathless and flushed, but looking a little scared.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop now,” Charles said, aching for the contact to continue.

“What are we doing?” Martha asked, still using her hands against his chest to keep a barrier between them.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Charles said, a little sharply. His emotions were screeching for release while at the same time his brain knew it was over.

Martha seemed to pull herself together at the tone of voice, or the words, Charles would never be sure which, but she moved away, completely out of his grasp. She did not bother to straighten her hair, or fix her dress, which had become disordered, but she stood straight and looked Charles in the eye.

“I can only apologise for my lapse, I did not wish for this to happen again,” she lied, “and I can only assure you it will never happen again. I shall return to Dunham House if I have to, but we will not act so improperly again.”

“Martha, don’t be ridiculous!” Charles snapped. “We like one another, what is wrong with that?”

“Thank you for reminding me what a low opinion you have of me, yes I have been ridiculous,” Martha said, somewhat unfairly. “I can only regret thinking that you were a better person than you actually are.” She turned away and walked to the door. “I refuse to open myself to censure by the staff or my employers, so there will be no repeat of what has gone on today, that I promise.”

Charles sank in the chair nearest the desk and groaned. What was it with this woman? One moment she was as cool as ice, the next she was acting like he was the answer to her dreams. He knew one thing though, she was the answer to his. He had never felt what he felt when he was touching her, and he was not going to stop trying to get through to her just how much they should be together.

For once in his life he was not going to be the dutiful employee. He was going to contact Lord Dunham and assure him that it was vital that both he and Miss Fairfield stayed exactly where they were for the foreseeable future. Return to Dunham House indeed! How could she think that, when there were definitely more kisses to enjoy here?

Chapter 15

Laura was feeling strange. She was restless and unsettled and she had no idea why. She had sorted out her room, much to the frustration of the maid that attended to the task every day, but she could not stop herself. She then started to walk through the house, picking up objects, gazing at them without seeing and then moving onto the next object.

Alfred had watched Laura from the top of the stairs as she had moved through the hallway. He smiled as he observed her, she was like a tight ball of energy, waiting to bounce away at any moment. The weather had been wetter in recent days, so he could understand her frustration, neither of them were used to doing nothing.

He walked down the stairs, his movement catching Laura’s attention. Her smile lit up her face at seeing him, before it was replaced by a frown.

“I need to walk, or I think I will go insane,” she said, with a scowl.

Alfred laughed, “Is that ‘would you please accompany me on an excursion, Mr Peters?’” he teased.

Laura laughed, but tried to maintain the scowl, “Oh, gone all high and mighty have we? Fine, oh great one, May I trouble you to accompany me on a walk?”

“Of course,” Alfred smiled and offered his arm.

They strolled through the formal gardens before reaching the border of the wider land. Laura examined the flowers as they walked. “It must be wonderful to have not to worry about the future, to just have a life where you can enjoy the flowers,” she said a little wistfully.

“I’m sure Lord and Lady Dunham have worries, just different ones to those which will trouble people like us,” Alfred said, remembering the all too real worries that they had faced not so very long ago.

“I suppose so,” Laura replied unconvinced.

“Are you jealous?” Alfred asked, partly teasing, partly curious at Laura’s apparent envious streak. He had not noticed that about her before.

Laura was soon to reassure Alfred with her response. “Jealous? No!” she exclaimed. “I would just like to know what is going to happen in the future, I suppose. Don’t mind me, I’ve had too much time on my hands and am restless.”

“I can understand that,” Alfred agreed. “Don’t worry about the future, I think it will work out fine once Lord and Lady Halkyn return.”

“We don’t know when that will be,” Laura said.

“I would have thought it would have been before now,” Alfred responded with a frown. “Lord Halkyn was not funning when he said that he was going to show his bride the world. I wonder where they went?”

Laura looked at Alfred sharply, before managing to school her features. “Do you need them to return, do you need to leave?” Her heart rate increased in dread of his response, she had come to rely on him so much over the previous weeks. His leaving was her biggest fear.

“I was given unspecified leave of absence,” Alfred responded. “I should let Mr Frost know that it is going to be longer than anticipated, it is only decent. He has been reasonable with me, it is only fair that I should keep him informed.”

The response was not quite as reassuring as Laura had hoped, but she could ask for no more. Alfred had a job in the city, which he took seriously and the fact was that she could never return to London, it would always be too much of a risk for her. So, even if her wildest dreams were realised and Alfred fell madly in love with her, they could never be together. She walked on with a feeling of lead in her stomach. She would have to become accustomed to life without him.

They reached a bench on the very edge of the formal area. It was placed to enable those who did not want to walk further into the fields to sit and admire the wider land. Laura paused as they were passing the bench.

“Would you mind if we rested for a while?” she asked.

“Not at all, are you well?” Alfred asked, immediately concerned at Laura’s pale face.

“I’m fine,” Laura replied, with a thin smile, but she sank into the bench as if it was the most comfortable chair she had ever sat on. “I think a few moments here, before we continue and I will be fine again.” She could never explain to him that every time she thought of him leaving, she felt sick to her stomach. Especially so today, with his talk of Lord and Lady Halkyn’s return, and contacting Mr Frost. She needed a few moments to gather herself.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, each enjoying the other’s company. Alfred broke the silence eventually.

“I never thought that I would get used to seeing so few people. London is so busy that I never felt totally alone, but here, there is no one for miles, and yet it is a comfortable feeling,” he said quietly.

“Apart from me, sitting inches away of course,” Laura replied with an arched eyebrow.

Alfred gently pushed her shoulder, “You know what I meant, you picky woman!”

Laura smiled, “I did, it’s just that I get worried when you go all melancholy on me.”

“Never that, with you around,” Alfred said good-naturedly. “I never thought I’d like the space, I suppose I never even thought I would see it, but I find it beautiful.”

“I really do know what you mean,” Laura said seriously. “We are all so wrapped up in trying to make a living in London, that we don’t have the time or the money to venture into the countryside.”

“I don’t want this to be the only time that I ever see it,” Alfred said, half to himself.

“Promise you will visit me,” Laura responded, urgency in her voice.

“What?” Alfred asked, surprised at the change of tone.

“Promise that you will come and visit me,” Laura repeated. “Alfred, I need to know that I will see you again.” Gone was the reserved Laura, she needed to speak to him now, in case their time was limited.

“Laura, I can’t offer…” Alfred started, waving his hands in Laura’s general direction.

Laura’s blood began to boil, he was so honourable but yet he could not see what was right in front of his face, that they were meant to be together. “Am I asking for anything other than a visit? I think you will find Alfred Peters, that I am not,” she responded offended.

“I just didn’t want you to think I was promising anything if I agreed to visit,” Alfred said, floundering a little at the anger pulsing from Laura’s every pore.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Laura snapped, anger making her speech more careless. “You’ve made it quite clear that you find me repulsive!”

“That is not true!” Alfred snapped back. “How could you say that I find you repulsive when we had the night that we shared?”

“But now I’m with child, you do,” Laura responded, standing and folding her arms.

“You are carrying another man’s child, do you want me to rejoice over that?” Alfred snapped, standing to face Laura. “What do you think I felt when I saw you, no, felt that you were with child that evening when you followed me home?”

Laura’s anger was reduced slightly at the look of pain in Alfred’s eyes. “I would have expected you to have asked me civil questions instead of jumping to your own conclusions and condemning me,” she said in a quieter manner than her last outburst.

Alfred sighed, “I know your background Laura, I don’t think my conclusions were unreasonable were they?”

Alfred’s words incensed Laura, tears of anger and frustration sprang to her eyes. She put her hands on her hips, squeezing herself tightly, to prevent reaching out and strangling Alfred. “You fool!” she spat. “All the signs have been there before your bloody eyes and you’ve ignored every one of them! You’re the father of this child and you damn well know it! Add up the dates Alfred! You ought to be ashamed that so far, you are proving to be the worst of fathers!”

Alfred paled at the words. He had felt anger in his life, but never since the death of Mr King and his family had he felt such blazing fury. “How dare you level such an accusation at me?” he snarled at Laura, his anger barely contained. “I would have thought better of you Laura, than trying to blame your folly on a decent man, and yes, even after all that has happened, I class myself as a decent man. Don’t ever mention this to me in the future, or you will never see me again, I promise you that.”

When Alfred had finished speaking, he turned and walked away from Laura, his fists in tight balls at his sides. He needed to escape. Laura knew him, they had been so close over the weeks they had been together, he had thought her the person who knew him most in the word and thought highly of him. He had thought highly of her, had loved her, he supposed, or as close has he had ever got to loving anyone.

How could she have said those things? Why now? Did she think that he was now so deeply involved that he would throw up his hands in surrender and accept what she was saying? If that was the case, she did not know him after all. He would never be forced into a situation which he did not want.

Alfred stormed across the fields, steam almost coming out of his nostrils as he walked. The lack of people today was an advantage, as Alfred was sure that he would kill the first person that said a wrong word to him. Laura had hit on his deepest desire, and it hurt that she had hit it dead centre.

He longed for a family. The likelihood of him having one was slim at best, as he would never put his wife in the position of being a young widow and in his line of work that was a real possibility. So, he had avoided all contact with marriageable ladies. With his background, first hunting down Mr King’s killers, and then working as a Bow Street Officer, it did not really need much effort to avoid women, he worked more than he played. It did not take away the fact that he wanted to be a husband and father though, since he wanted to give a young life the secure upbringing that he had not experienced.

Laura’s accusation had shaken him to the core. If he
was
the father of her child, the thought was terrifying. He would have brought a child into the world in the worse possible way, to an insecure future. He felt sick at the thought.

As he walked he calmed a little, Laura was angry, she had spoken out to hurt. Although she had succeeded, Alfred became more magnanimous. She was a woman in an uncertain position, and of course she would try to secure her future and that of her baby. He just wished that she had chosen a better solution. He did wonder about the night they had spent together, but dismissed it. He was sure he was not the father, and that Laura was just lashing out.

*

Laura sank onto the bench after Alfred had stormed off and dissolved into tears. If she had been able to think coherently, she would probably have laughed at herself. The last time she had cried was the day that she had realised that Baron Kersal was not her saviour, after the man who had taken away her innocence had dressed, thrown a few coins on the bed and had left the room. Her tears then had been of fear and shame, her tears now were of the same.

How could she have lost her temper so foolishly? Alfred had told her that he would not believe it if a woman of the night told him that he was the father of her child, and yet here she was, shouting that very thing at him, in the worst possible way. He would probably never speak to her again, in fact if he stayed it would be a miracle. He would see it her story as a poor way of repaying all his kindnesses.

Laura was at a loss. He would never believe her. She had condemned her unborn child to never being accepted by its father and she had no idea how to resolve the situation. She had always been capable, able to keep herself contained to deal with what life threw at her, but this was beyond her. She had created a life knowingly and she had not thought through the reality of it.

In her heart, she supposed that she had hoped he would guess and accept her and the baby and they would live happily ever after.

Laura dried her eyes roughly, angry with herself. She was not one for happily ever after! That only happened in fairy stories that children were fooled with. She had to face reality, this child was going to be brought up by one parent and there was one thing she could be certain about, the child would be sure of its happy ever after, because she was determined to break the cycle. She would do everything in her power to make sure that her baby would have the chances that she herself had not.

Laura stood and squared her shoulders, she could do this, she was strong enough. Suddenly, she doubled over in pain and groaned. As the pain eased, her breathing slowed a little, but her heart still pounded, there was something wrong with the baby. All her fine thoughts and promises and already she was in a situation where she could do nothing, this was too early.

She gripped the bench and tried to stand, and when the pain did not return, she tentatively began to walk towards the house.

Never had such a relatively short walk taken so long. Laura would walk until the pain washed over her and then sink to her knees, unable to do anything, but gasp. Once the pain subsided, she would push herself off her knees and walk, hunched over, through the gardens.

It was only when she reached the rose garden that she saw an undergardener and managed to call him over, through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Miss?” the young boy said, approaching her with caution.

“Get Miss Fairfield, tell her it’s the baby,” Laura gasped, the pain washing over her once more.

“Yes Miss!” came the response, as he turned and ran towards the house.

Laura remained in the position she was, since somehow asking for help had drained some of her resources and she had not the strength to move. It was taking everything she had to concentrate on breathing. It felt like hours before she saw the welcome figures of Charles and Martha running over the lawned area, with the under gardener leading the way. They all arrived breathless, but Martha crouched down in front of Laura.