Stay with Me (45 page)

‘We have lost three ships,' he began, and even Greta's astonished ‘What?' did not stop him then. Words poured out of him like a tide: inexorable, overwhelming, their meaning stark and inescapable. ‘So, you see, with a crowd howling for Lena's blood, we could not go to either of the houses. They would be sure to think of looking there. I hoped you might help.'

‘You don't think they will look for you here?'

‘Few people know of our relationship, and those who do will not be among the baying mob.'

‘Of course you can stay here, but what do you propose to do next?' she said.

Grim-faced, Peter shook his head. ‘Right now, I don't know. By morning I hope to have a solution. Otherwise . . .' He gave a little shrug of his shoulders.

‘Anything I can do, you know you only have to ask,' said his cousin. She glanced at Lena who, numbed by the dreadful turn of events, sat in silence, shoulders hunched as if to ward off a blow.

Greta got to her feet and went to the bell-pull. ‘The beds are always ready, you can stay as long as you like. Come, Lena. A bath for you and then a rest, I think. We'll talk more tonight.'

Lena got meekly to her feet as if all free will had been drained from her. Peter felt a brief pang of sympathy for her. This pale-faced, shivering creature was not the woman he had married. She was a stranger to him now and he was not sure if that would ever change.

 

It was an uneasy meal that evening, with no one wishing to broach the subject of the future; Lena fearing what Peter's decision might be, Greta not wanting to interfere, and Peter undecided where his future lay, but knowing a decision had to be made, for both their sakes

Unease hung between them as he and Lena made their way upstairs. Once the bedroom door clicked shut they were cocooned in a world that seemed to have no connection with what lay beyond, but one word out of place now could shatter that illusion and plunge them into a course from which there would be no return.

The word that broke the spell and brought past and future clashing together was spoken by Lena. ‘Sorry.' It did not seek forgiveness nor seek to give an excuse.

‘Sorry!' Peter's eyes were blazing. ‘How deep-felt can such a word be in these circumstances? You have destroyed lives. You have destroyed me. Our future is ruined.
Why
did you have to send those ships out when all those with more experience were against it? You could see the weather was deteriorating . . .'

The words stung Lena and sparked retaliation in her. ‘I couldn't foresee it would worsen!'

‘You were determined to take no notice of wiser counsel, just to satisfy a whim.'

‘I sent them out to make money for us.'

He laughed derisively. ‘Don't try to justify your actions! They were driven by only one thing - your obsessive desire to have your revenge on a dead brother.'

‘Step-brother!' she screamed. ‘A Carnforth in name only! That firm should have been mine!'

‘And your obsession has brought us to ruin. Don't think I haven't been aware of what you were trying to do.'

‘And you were too weak to stop me!'

Peter grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Never that. But I made a mistake. I thought running the firm alongside me would be sufficient for you. I allowed you more power, thinking that would satisfy you, but you could not content yourself even with that. You sent those ships to their doom. I bitterly regret my part in it all. I should have done more to stop you, but I was afraid that if I did it would destroy the love we had. Now . . .' He let his voice trail away.

She grabbed his arms and, wild-eyed, met his condemning gaze. ‘Peter, I'm sorry . . . so terribly sorry. I thought I was securing a future for us all. You, me . . . our son.'

‘We had more than enough already,' he said coldly.

‘I know that now and regret what I did. What can I do to make amends?'

‘Do?' he spat.

Lena realised she was fighting for her future. ‘I love you, Peter. Please ... don't desert me.' Tears started rolling down her cheeks.

He pushed her roughly from him. She collapsed on the bed, sobbing, as he strode out of the room.

In her bedroom, Greta heard his footsteps cross the landing and go downstairs. She listened intently but only heard the drawing-room door open and close. She would have gone to him but knew she had no right to interfere. They would have to resolve matters for themselves, and let tomorrow bring what it would.

When Greta came down early the next morning, she found Peter standing staring out of the drawing-room window. She noted that his greatcoat and hat were laid on a nearby chair.

‘I heard you come down. Have you been here all night?' she asked.

‘Yes.' Seeing concern in her expression, he added quickly, ‘I've been well attended, and it gave me time to think. I'm glad you are down before Lena. I want to be away before she is up.'

Greta frowned. ‘Things are that bad between you then?'

‘I will not deny it.'

‘What are you going to do?'

‘I don't wish to disclose that because I may not be able to put into practice what I have in mind. But I would like you to do something for me.'

‘I will do whatever I can, you know that.' Greta could not hide her affection for him or her desire to help.

‘Take care of Lena until I get back. I think it best you both leave Hull without anyone knowing where you have gone, not even the servants here. Lena's life could still be in danger from some hot-head. What I suggest is that you go to Weaver Hall. I have written a letter,' he indicated a folded paper on the small table next to the window, ‘to Charles and Marcia, asking them if you and Lena can stay there until I come to fetch you. I can't say how long I'll be, but don't expect it to be inside a week. Explain to them only as much as you think necessary. ' He turned to pick up his coat but Greta stopped him.

She grasped his arms and looked intently into his eyes. ‘I will do all I can for you and will anxiously await your return. Take good care, wherever you are going, and may whatever you do turn out to be the right decision.' She kissed him on the cheek.

Peter smiled, hugged her to him for a moment and was gone.

 

In the half-state between being awake and still asleep, Lena slid her hand across the bed. The expected contact did not come, bringing the realisation that she was alone. She was jolted awake and for a moment lay there, unaware of where she was. Then recollections of yesterday pierced her like shards of glass.

Peter! Where was he? She needed him; she craved his reassurance. She flung the bedclothes back, swung out of bed and rushed from the room. The house was silent. Panic gripped her, sent her hurrying down the stairs to fling open the door to the dining-room where she felt a measure of relief to find Greta seated at the table.

‘Peter? Where is he?' cried Lena, her voice pleading for an answer.

Greta was rapidly on her feet, coming forward to place her hand on Lena's arm in reassurance. ‘He has things to attend to. He will return.'

‘Where is he? Where?' cried Lena. ‘I need him here.' Her face was twisted in distress.

‘I don't know where he had to go but he did leave instructions with me,' said Greta, gently leading her to a chair. ‘Sit down and let me explain.'

Bewildered, she automatically did as she was told and stared at Greta.

‘Peter thinks it would not be safe for you to stay in Hull. He has asked me to take you to his friends at Weaver Hall, where he wants you to remain until he comes to find you. He has written a letter asking them to accommodate us both.'

‘But didn't he say where he was going?'

Greta shook her head. ‘He would not tell me. Said only that he might be away more than a week.'

‘Oh, Greta, I can't bear it! I need him here, I need his forgiveness.'

‘We can do nothing but place our trust in him now.' Not wanting this exchange to be prolonged, Greta said firmly, ‘We must be away as soon as possible. The carriage will be ready in an hour. You get dressed and have some breakfast. '

Lena wanted to protest but knew she had no choice but to do as she was asked. The only mild objection she made was to say, ‘I'll need some clothes.'

‘I've thought of that and packed some of mine for you. We cannot possibly think of going to either of your houses, in case they are being watched.' Seeing the anguish on Lena's face, she quickly added. ‘I believe the hostility will die down eventually. But until then we must do as Peter wants. Please hurry.'

 

In spite of her disturbed thoughts, Lena found a measure of comfort when Weaver Hall came into sight. Its solid mass set amidst tranquil countryside, far from the upheaval of Hull, represented stability and peace to her. How she wished that Peter was beside her now and they were coming on a social call, to enjoy time spent with friends. Tears came with the realisation of all that had been lost through her own fault.

‘What have I done?' she cried, turning a pleading face to Greta.

She placed a comforting hand on Lena's arm. ‘Don't pillory yourself,' she said soothingly. ‘Try to be strong. I'm sure Peter will arrive at a solution. Wipe your eyes and be patient.'

The inference that they should appear as normal as possible to meet the Sugdens was not lost on Lena. She wiped her eyes, smoothed her dress and stiffened her shoulders.

Greta brought the carriage to a halt outside the front entrance of the Hall. In a matter of moments the door was opened by a footman.

‘Are Mr and Mrs Sugden at home?' she enquired pleasantly. Her mind raced as it dawned on her that neither she nor Peter had considered the possibility that they would not be in residence. So it was with great relief that she heard the footman saying, ‘They are indeed, ma'am. Please step inside and I will see if they are receiving visitors.' His enquiring look brought the answer, ‘Mrs Hustwick and Miss Clancy.'

‘Ma'am.' He bowed then hurried across the hall, opened a door and stepped inside.

A few moments later Charles and Marcia came hurrying out. Their greetings were effusive.

‘Peter not with you?' Charles asked.

‘No, I'm afraid not, but he asked me to give you this letter,' said Greta.

Charles took it but did not open it until he and Marcia had seen the newcomers comfortably seated in the drawing-room. Then he stood with his back to the fireplace and opened the letter. He read it quickly and handed it to his wife who took it with a questioning look at him, wondering why he had made no comment. As soon as she read it she knew that his silence sought her agreement. Their exchange of glances showed the close understanding between them.

‘Of course you may stay for as long as it takes Peter to sort matters out. He does not say what these matters are, and we do not seek to know. You are welcome here without further explanation.'

‘Neither of us knows where Peter has gone nor how long he will be, but I think you should hear something of what has happened.' Lena glanced at Greta and saw her nod of approval.

She was pleased that Lena had taken this course as it would make for an easier relationship throughout their stay. She decided she would not interfere in the telling of the story but allow Lena, as the chief perpetrator, to explain as far as she saw fit.

Charles and Marcia listened without interruption.

Lena left out some of the details but the Sugdens soon had a good impression of the recent disasters and understood how Lena's unreasonable ambition had led to the present situation. She leaned back in her chair when she finished speaking and experienced a moment of relief.

There was a short silence as if Charles and Marcia were weighing up what their attitude should be. When Charles finally spoke he did so for them both. ‘I am pleased you thought it right to confide in us. Your trust will make for a pleasanter stay, no matter how long it lasts. You can rest assured, your story will not go beyond these four walls.'

‘Now, I think we had better get you settled in,' Marcia took over.

She led Lena and Greta upstairs and showed them the rooms they would occupy. While they were doing that two servants arrived with the luggage from the carriage.

‘I see you have only a little,' Marcia observed when only one valise was brought to Lena's room.

‘Peter thought it unwise to return to either of our houses and took me straight to Greta's, so all I have is what she has kindly lent me.' She made a gesture, indicating the clothes she stood up in.

Marcia nodded. ‘We must put that right tomorrow. A woman in the village makes my everyday dresses. She is very good but I have never employed her on anything more elaborate - I go to York or sometimes London for those.'

‘I am sure whatever she produces will suit me until Peter returns and deems it wise for us to go home, but . . . I have no money.'

Marcia dismissed the objection with a wave of her hand. ‘Charles will pay and Peter can settle with him.'

‘This is beyond kind,' said Lena, a catch in her throat and tears brimming in her eyes. ‘You are too generous. I don't deserve such sympathy.'

‘We have all made mistakes in our lives. There was no malice in yours. You weren't to know those poor men would meet a storm of such ferocity. We are both only too pleased to help. Besides, what are friends for if you can't turn to them in an hour of need?'

Lena stepped forward and impulsively gave her a hug. ‘How can I ever thank you?' When Marcia responded with an embrace Lena felt safe. Now she longed only for equal forgiveness from her husband, then the future could take care of itself.