Calico Road (16 page)

But even as she thought that, Harriet sighed. It seemed neither she nor her sister was destined to marry for love, as they’d once hoped.

She might mention the possibility of finding a husband to Jethro again when she knew him a little better, or get her sister to do so. From things that had been said it was already clear that her mother was thinking Perry and Sophia would be the ones to marry, while Harriet would stay at home to look after her.

Never! she vowed. Behind that fussy exterior her mother was a tyrant.

In the carriage Jethro allowed Sophia to sit in the far corner from him and made no attempt to touch her. Time enough for that when they reached his house.

‘It went well, don’t you think?’ she asked as the silence between them dragged on.

‘Aye. But if that’s county society, they’re shockingly inbred. Not an intelligent face among them, and the women are nothing compared to you.’

Sophia was pleased by his compliment, having learned by now that Jethro said nothing unless he meant it. She suspected that his praise would never be couched in flowery terms, but it was nonetheless welcome because her mother never praised her daughters for anything and they always failed to live up to her expectations. Though she had been pleased that Sophia had ‘caught a rich husband’. Ha! It was, in fact, the other way round: Jethro had caught her.

Feeling weary after a very early start to the day and having been on her feet for most of that time, Sophia closed her eyes and leaned back.

Her new husband’s voice was quiet and deep, rather soothing, as he said, ‘You look tired.’

‘I am. Aren’t you?’

‘No. I was bored towards the end, but that’s different.’

She opened her eyes and said thoughtfully, ‘Not inviting the Easdales caused a lot of talk.’

‘Let it. I’m not having anything to do with them. And nor are you.’

‘You’re very quick to give me orders.’

He shrugged. ‘Only about things that matter to me. The rest of the time it’s you who’ll be giving the orders. I’ll allow you a free hand with the house. Money’s no object, but good taste is. I don’t have that. The only thing I couldn’t abide would be to have the rooms crammed with too much furniture.’

She was betrayed into a genuine smile. ‘Like Mama does?’

His cool, controlled expression almost slipped into a smile as he nodded agreement.

‘That’s not to my taste either,’ Sophia told him, ‘which is why I waited until after we were married to make a start on the house. She won’t be able to interfere now that I’m out from under her thumb. I shall enjoy my task.’

‘Good.’

When they arrived at Parkside he helped Sophia from the carriage, tucked her arm through his and led her inside. The servants were lined up to greet them: three women who worked indoors and two men from outdoors. Jethro had asked if he should hire more staff but she’d told him it’d suit her better to choose her own servants. Sophia nodded and smiled at them all, then followed her husband into what he called the parlour, her mouth dry with apprehension at the way he was looking at her now, not hiding his desire for her.

He surprised her by saying, ‘I’m not going to kill or torture you tonight, you know.’

She didn’t like the way he seemed able to read her mind. ‘It’s natural for a bride to be a little nervous, is it not?’

‘We can get it over with now, if you like? Then you’ll see you’ve no need to worry about being bedded.’

She gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. ‘
In the daytime?
’

‘You can do that sort of thing at any time of the day or night, you know.’

‘I’d rather not! What would the servants think?’

He stepped forward and took her arm. ‘To hell with what the servants think. I don’t run my life to suit them. We’ll go upstairs now.’

‘Jethro, no!’

But he only chuckled and used his physical strength to force her to go with him.

‘Please don’t do this,’ Sophia begged in a low voice, trying to pull back as they reached the landing. But she could do nothing against his superior size and strength.

‘I’m not sitting round watching you work yourself into a state over something that’s perfectly natural. Besides, I’ve waited long enough for you.’

They found the youngest maid unpacking the mistress’s bags. He said curtly, ‘Do that later, Betty. We don’t want to be disturbed.’

Her face completely expressionless, the maid bobbed a curtsey to her new mistress and left.

Sophia stood by the bedroom door, unable to move, her heart pounding. He pulled her further into the room and locked the door.

‘I’ve been looking forward to undressing you,’ he said, his tone mild but his eyes glittering with anticipation.

‘Jethro, don’t! Please wait until later.’ She backed away a step or two.

He followed and put one fingertip under her chin so that she had to look him in the eyes. ‘Don’t try to deny me, my dear wife. I intend to be master in my own bed.’ He slipped off his coat and waistcoat, untied the simple neckcloth with a muttered, ‘Damned choking thing!’

Then he looked at her, standing rigid, fear in every line of her body. ‘Come to bed, Sophia. I’m not going to hurt you.’

But she couldn’t move, so he came across to pull her towards the bed. She fought him then, struggling wildly but in silence, for fear of the servants overhearing them. As he removed every single item of her clothing, his eyes raked her body and his fingers lingered on her most intimate parts until she thought she’d die of shame.

When he let go, she whimpered and hid under the bedclothes, but he made short work of removing the rest of his clothes and then came back to her, pulling away the sheet under which she’d huddled and saying conversationally, ‘Now, Sophia, your most important lesson as a wife really begins . . .’

To her surprise he was gentle from then onwards, soothing her with murmurs, caressing her lightly at first and praising the beauty of her body. The fear subsided a little and she stilled, letting him do as he would. This was, after all, the price all women had to pay for a man’s protection.

But he wasn’t satisfied with her quiescence and stopped his ministrations to say, ‘I’m not having you lying like a piece of dead wood beneath me every night. I’ll not finish this till you respond to my touch.’

Then he began to kiss her in a far less gentle way. She was afraid to give in to the strange feelings that were now running through her and tried very hard to hold out against his skilled hands and her own traitorous body. But she couldn’t and as she began to respond and move with him, finally, with a soft laugh, he took her to wife.

Afterwards she lay there in his arms, bewildered. ‘Jethro, I—’

‘What?’

‘They told me it would hurt.’

‘Only if the man’s a fool and takes no care for the woman’s needs. I prefer it if we both enjoy the act of love.’ He threw the covers off and stood up. ‘You’ll want to wash now and so do I. Then we’ll go down and have something to eat. I’m hungry even if you aren’t.’

She watched him walk into his dressing room, naked and seemingly unashamed of that. She wished he’d stayed with her longer, talked, explained – oh, she didn’t know what she wished!

She wondered if she’d ever understand him. He seemed a mass of contradictions. The last thing she’d expected today was tenderness in bed. Indeed, he’d been kind to her in his own rather direct way about several aspects of their marriage and life together, and she wasn’t sure she welcomed that because she didn’t
want
to like him. It would make her too vulnerable. She’d found that out with Oswin, had vowed never to trust a man again.

But still, today had been – exciting. And he had made her enjoy it.

What else would surprise her in this strange marriage of theirs?

As the weeks passed Meg grew used to her job in the pawn shop and found she enjoyed it far more than working in the mill. Peggy didn’t soften towards her in any way and never stopped emphasising that she would keep the job only as long as she gave satisfaction, but Meg knew why she was doing that so it didn’t worry her.

On the third day, Peggy said, ‘I can see I’ll have to teach you to cook. You’ve no idea how to get the best out of food.’

‘My mother wasn’t a good cook, but I’d love to learn.’

‘Well, I’m a good one, or would be if I didn’t have a business to run. And I like to enjoy what I eat. I work hard for it, after all.’

She was also a good teacher, seeming to enjoy showing Meg how to cook a whole range of simple but tasty dishes. And in spite of her harsh words, Peggy allowed her new employee first chance to buy things from the shop that hadn’t been redeemed, letting her have them cheaply as long as there was still a small profit involved for herself. So Meg was able to buy more crockery, a stewpot and even a wooden settle. She loved owning things, loved surprising Ben with some new item for their home.

He often told her how happy he was with her, but she knew he was sad that she hadn’t fallen for a child yet. Well, she wasn’t! She was relieved about it. That sort of thing could wait until later. She didn’t hanker after children and if that made her strange, then so what? It certainly made their life easier. Her mother had said Ben would land her with a houseful of kids and then she’d find out what hard work really was. Yes, and misery, for you always lost one or two.

So it was with a sense of shock and disbelief that Meg waited in vain for her monthly courses in October. They just didn’t arrive. She was sure she wasn’t expecting because she wasn’t sick in the mornings and everyone knew that was one of the first signs. She felt just the same as usual so pretended to Ben that she had her courses, which gave her a few days without making love. It wasn’t that she minded him touching her, just that he wanted her too often for her own taste and she never liked to refuse in case she drove him to drink more heavily.

Weeks passed and nothing happened. The baby didn’t seem real. Her breasts felt a little tender, her waist was a little thicker, but that was all. She managed to hide her condition from everyone for three months, not buying things now, but saving every farthing she could.

‘I want us to have some money behind us,’ she said to Ben.

‘Whatever you want suits me, lass, as long as you don’t stint on the food. A man gets hungry after a day’s work. Though you’re turning into a good cook these days.’ He worked long hours because he couldn’t come home till the horses were settled for the night, and there was no such thing as a day off because every day the horses always needed feeding and the stables cleaning out. Though, of course, Sundays were shorter days for him with no deliveries to make.

Christmas came and went. They celebrated in their own way, eating a small chicken that Meg picked up cheaply at the market when she was shopping for Peggy. She made it last for several meals, of course, but still, it gave a wonderful flavour to the potatoes they ate in such quantities. Most folk lived mainly on bread or oatcakes, but an Irish neighbour said potatoes were cheaper and better for the children, that they didn’t get scurvy if they ate lots. The woman even went so far as to show Meg how to use the potatoes properly, cutting out the green bits, which weren’t good for you and just scrubbing the skins before cooking great pots of them. If you had a little butter or suet you could fry them with chopped onion and that was delicious. If you had a little meat you could have gravy with them. After years of her mother’s eternal stews, which were pallid from lack of meat, Meg was enjoying cooking the different dishes Peggy and her neighbour showed her, and Ben certainly appreciated her efforts.

But she had a new worry as well as the thought of the coming child. He had started drinking more after work, she could tell. Oh, he was never drunk, but he slurred his words slightly sometimes and laughed too readily. When she taxed him with having had more than a couple of pots, he always denied it and got angry with her.

She didn’t know what to do, found herself lying awake after he’d fallen asleep, worrying about what she would do if he turned into a drunkard again. The only consolation was that he got his beer free from his employer and still handed her his full wages, so at least she wasn’t going short of money because of the drinking, as many women did.

Meg continued to conceal her condition from Peggy as well as her husband. She didn’t want to lose her job and knew her employer wouldn’t make any allowances.

But the time was coming when she’d not be able to hide it any longer because she had suddenly started to put on weight, especially around her waist and breasts. Ben would be pleased but Peggy might dismiss her and then what would she do? Deep inside herself Meg felt a terrible craving for money and security. She’d seen how the lack of money had warped her mother, made her cling to Jack, and didn’t want to become like that.

Meg wrote once to her family, but didn’t give them her address and didn’t write again. She couldn’t face what her mother might say about Ben’s increased drinking and the coming child.

One day in late October when the rain was pounding down and the coldness of the wind was a sign that winter wasn’t far away, Toby decided to do a tour of his domain to check that all was still weathertight for the coming winter. He wandered through the middle area, where two bedrooms now stood ready for chance travellers, then opened the door into the rear building and went quietly inside.

He always felt a sense of wonder as he entered this ancient place, and couldn’t help speculating about the many people who must have lived here over the centuries. Mr Pickerling had told him something about the history of England and had come to examine the back part of the inn, getting excited about it all over again, as he had the first time he’d seen it. Words tripping over one another, he explained that an order of monks had probably built the rear part. He’d been thrilled to see what he called the cruck method of construction, using whole trees as the framework, which he’d only read about before.