Larkrigg Fell (31 page)

These snatched moments when they could be alone were both a delight and a torture for her. A part of that rural idyll of which she had dreamed. Beth would sink into his arms, eager to let him kiss the full softness of her mouth, caress the taut peaks of her breasts till she was mad with need for him, very nearly at that dangerous point of no return.

‘It is all right. Do not resist so fiercely. She is sleeping.’

‘She might wake. I’m sure she guesses.’

‘No, we are the innocents, yes? If you say we can never make love again, then I will respect your wishes, as always.’

His patience with her continued refusal astonished and humbled her. How he must love and respect her. If only Sarah would give him up then there would be no further need for all of this agonising restraint. Starry eyed with love for him, Beth was still a romantic at heart.

‘I grow tired of Sarah’s sulks,’ he was saying. ‘Perhaps she need a break. We all do. A holiday would do us good, yes? In sunny Italy. I will take you both. Is good idea, sì?’

Beth had to laugh as she shook her head. ‘Can you imagine us all on holiday together? How could we hope to keep our feelings secret? Besides, I have far too much to do here.’

‘What could be more important than spending time with me?’

‘I have my animals, the hens and ducks and geese, and my little flock of sheep. Who would help Ellen with her animal hospital? Besides - now don’t be cross - I’ve almost decided...’ Beth hung her head so that the chestnut hair fell forward over her face, hiding a shy smile.

Pietro was entranced. ‘What is it, my little one? Another secret? What is that you have almost decided?’

Beth slanted a shy smile up at him. ‘I’ve talked to Andrew and he’s promised to sell me a cow next spring. Oh, I know there was the accident but Meg has convinced me that I was not to blame. And Jonty is making good progress now. Anyway, she’s a Jersey, very pretty and very quiet.’ Beth continued excitedly, paying no attention to the expression of dawning dismay on his face. ‘Then I shall make cheese, and clotted cream on the Aga.’

Pietro’s smile had quite vanished. ‘Clotted cream? I talk to you of love and of Italy and you talk to me of a cow?’ He stared at her as if she’d gone quite mad. ‘I think you love your animals and your stupeed cheese more than me.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly.’ She was giggling now, refusing to take him seriously, delighting in his jealousy of her love for the animals. ‘I suppose it does sound rather funny, but don’t you see, I could make a good little business selling cheese, as well as eggs. I would like to show Sarah that I’m capable of achieving something of my own.’

‘We agreed there were to be no more animals. I am tired of them all. You marry me, sell this place and we travel the world together. Yes?’

Beth burst out laughing, then kissed his perfect nose. ‘What a wonderful romantic you are, even worse than me. How can we possibly run away? We have to settle things with Sarah first. You know that you must tell her soon. It’s the only way.’

‘She can come too.’

‘On our honeymoon?’

He grabbed her close in his arms again. ‘Oh, if only bigamy were not illegal then I could have you both.’ Beth so revelled in the hot kisses that followed, she quite found it in her heart to forgive him for this display of disloyalty.

Pietro was wondering how long he could keep both twins dangling. It was becoming a trial even his great skill was finding a strain. Her cheeks were rosy with love, her eyes dancing, yet he considered her quite dispassionately, without any sign of emotion. ‘I think you know me not at all. Why should I trouble myself when all you think of is your stupeed rural dream. I should make the decisions. I am the man.’

She almost laughed again but then saw the grim expression upon his face. A small pulse of alarm started up inside. It was as if a gulf had opened up between them, and they viewed each other from the wrong ends of a telescope. ‘You are going to tell Sarah soon, aren’t you?’

‘What should I tell her?’

‘About us.’

A small strained silence then Beth pushed her doubts aside. ‘I know what’s the matter with you. You’re afraid of Sarah’s temper. Me too. What cowards we are. We’ll wait till she’s in a better mood, shall we?’ And she lifted her face to be kissed.

But it took a considerable amount of persuasion and dangerously sweet loving to put Pietro in a better mood.

When later Sarah still hadn’t come out of her room, Beth took her in some cocoa. She was almost sure her sister had been crying. ‘Are you all right? You aren’t sickening for something, are you?’

Sarah sat up and blew her nose with a sad shake of the head. ‘I was thinking how foolish I am, and how right you are to be thrifty and careful with money. I wish I could be. It was perfectly obvious you weren’t happy living here with us. That’s why you left, isn’t it? Because you couldn’t bear to be near me? You hate me, don’t you?’

‘Oh, Sarah, why should I hate you?’ Beth set down the cocoa and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what on earth had brought this on.

‘Because I’m always in such a foul temper. I don’t mean to be. Life’s been hard lately.’

‘I know. I don’t take any notice of your temper.’

‘You’re hurting because Pietro left you as Jeremy did. Because he loved me and not you, you think no one will ever love you, don’t you?’

‘Perhaps, sometimes.’

‘And because I can do everything so much better than you. You can’t even manage a house properly.’

Beth gritted her teeth, making no reply to this.

‘Pietro truly cares for me, you see. He adores me.’

Beth stared blankly at Sarah. ‘I can see that he does.’

‘Only he’s been so sulky lately, I worry about him growing bored with me. Do you think he might?’

‘How could anyone grow bored with you? Aren’t you the fascinating Brandon twin?’ The words seemed to come from some other mouth to her own, but she was rewarded by a deep chuckle of gratitude, rich and throaty.

‘Oh, Beth, you are so good for me. I couldn’t bear to lose you as my own dear sister.’ Then Sarah’s arms were around her, kissing her on the cheek. ‘Neither could I bear to lose Pietro. I think I’d go mad if I ever lost him. I’d just die. You do see that, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I do see that.’

‘And you don’t mind?’

This was the moment to tell the truth, to explain that it was she who Pietro loved and wanted to marry, and not Sarah at all. That he had only been pretending, waiting for Sarah to release him. Yet how could she destroy her own sister’s happiness? She suddenly seemed so vulnerable, believing implicitly in Pietro’s love. How could Beth take him from her?

Beth put her arms about her, feeling tremors of emotion shake the slender body, and recalled so many similar occasions in the past. ‘I want you to be happy, that’s all. Don’t I always?’

‘Oh, Beth. I only have you. Besides Pietro, that is. I know we’ve been at odds lately. Those dratted Gemini Stones got to us. You know, the ones that Sally Ann told us about?’ She giggled. ‘Yet you do matter to me. Very much. You do know that, don’t you?’

Beth’s heart filled with compassion and sadness at the raw need on her sister’s face for approval, and for appreciation and love. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I do know that. Now enough of this agonising. Drink your cocoa while it’s hot and get some sleep. You’ll feel much better tomorrow.’ She began to tuck Sarah into bed, as she had used to do when they were small. ‘Pietro was talking about a holiday. Perhaps it would do you good. Why not? You deserve a rest.’

Violet eyes regarded her with open admiration and gratitude. ‘I wish I’d been born with your open heart and generosity, Beth.’

‘And I your brilliance.’ Beth laughed, picked up the tray and walked to the door, back rigid with her determination not to break down. It was over. Whatever she felt for Pietro, or he for her, should be set aside in the interests of her sister. Beth could no more take him from her than she could fly.
 

Beth did not return to Larkrigg the next morning. For once she felt quite unable to face her sister’s demands. She played the coward and stayed with Ellen at the cottage, busying herself with the animals, trying to keep her mind as well as her hands fully occupied.

She had given her all to Sarah and now made the ultimate sacrifice. She could do no more, certainly couldn’t face her until she had herself more under control. Ellen, as if sensing she was on the brink of despair, quietly watched and held her own counsel, saying little beyond what was necessary to perform the myriad small tasks which made up their day.

Beth waited with dread and longing for Pietro to call, as he surely would if she did not appear at the house later that day. One moment hoping that he would come for her and carry her off with him to Italy, the next that he would not come until the peace and quietness of Ellen’s presence had given her the strength to face him. She practised what she would say but as time slipped by and there was still no sign of him, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, or mortified by his lack of loyalty.

Work, as always, was her salvation. She spent that first day repainting all the shabby window frames on the cottage in a bright new green.

‘They were rotting away,’ she scolded Ellen. ‘You should take more care.’

‘They’re old, like me.’

‘But if you painted them, they’d last longer.’

‘Oh well, you can give me a coat of that paint next.’

Beth laughed. Ellen’s blunt humour always cheered her. How was it she could laugh, breathe, even though she was dying inside having lost Pietro for good?

On the second day Ellen took in a young fawn, brought by a woman who had found its mother lying dead on an open moorland road, killed by a speeding car. On the third they carefully released Barney, with a new mate, settling him in new quarters provided by a local farmer in an unused barn. It took the best part of the day and night, since it was a tricky business as they felt compelled to stay and watch, to be sure the owls settled.

‘We’ll come every day for a while and keep a quiet eye on them. But I think the move will be successful. He’s a sensible chap is Barney,’ Ellen said, as if they were bosom pals.

On the fourth day Beth heard a car in the lane and came out to investigate only to find the goose face to face with an adder. Georgie Girl was poking her cropped beak forward in curiosity to the creature which raised its broad flat head defensively in strike position. She quickly grabbed a tea towel and flung it at the snake, missing the goose entirely who gave a cack-cack of annoyance and poked her beak forward again.

Somewhere Beth heard a car door slam and a man’s footsteps approach. If the goose or snake were startled by the arrival of a stranger, one or other could make a very fatal mistake. An adder bite might rarely cause death in an adult but a small goose was quite another matter. And Ellen loved Georgie girl as a favourite pet.

‘Oh, do go away, you silly snake. You’re supposed to be shy and retiring.’ But of course, Georgie Girl, with her insatiable curiosity was the aggressor here. And she would come off the loser.

‘I’ll deal with it,’ said a man’s imperious voice, and the stranger strode over to the snake.

‘No, don’t.’ Before Beth could do anything the man hit out at the snake with a stick. At exactly the same moment Ellen came striding around the corner of the cottage and the adder, quick as a flash, seemed to knock its head against her leg. To Beth, that moment seemed frozen in time. The goose flapping and hissing, the man cursing, Ellen looking down in surprise as the zig-zig pattern slithered hastily away through the long grass.

‘Dear Lord, I think he bit me.’

Beth turned on the man, hissing almost as fiercely as the goose. ‘You caused this with your blundering about. I could have stopped it without anyone getting hurt.’ It was an ungracious and unjustified attack but her nerves were stretched to snapping point without this.

‘Someone had to take action,’ he said, rather pompously.

‘I was dealing with it. Adders don’t attack unless they’re cornered.’
 

‘I’m looking for Miss Brandon.’

Ellen gave a plaintive cry. ‘It’s starting to hurt. Very badly.’

‘Oh God, Ellen, are you all right?’ Beth dashed over to her, calling to the young man. `We’ll have to use your car.’

‘I’m not an ambulance service.’ Then looking at Ellen’s ashen face, ‘oh, all right.’

Swiftly Beth washed the wound with soapy water, making Ellen keep very still so the poison wouldn’t spread. Then the old woman was laid carefully on the back seat of the Ford Cortina, a clean tea towel covering the wound and they drove off at great speed to the local hospital.

She was treated immediately and kept in overnight, to be on the safe side. When Beth could do nothing more she was surprised to find the pompous young man still waiting. He offered her a lift home which she decided he owed her for his clumsy interference, too concerned over Ellen to wonder if he had any other motive. Ellen must be around sixty, Beth worried. Could she take the shock of being bitten by a snake?

‘I’m sorry to drop this bombshell on you now,’ he began, as he dropped her off back at Rowan cottage. ‘Only, since all our correspondence has been ignored, there seems to be no alternative.’