The Hired Wife (15 page)

“In your
dreams…”

Cecil reached
for another piece of toast and looked for the butter, “Papa doesn’t
even know what kind of woman he’s looking for. I asked him if he
knew; he gave me that look that makes the blood run cold and told
me to mind my own business.”

George waved
his spoon to get the table’s attention. “We need to help Papa find
a wife. You know he’s looking for a replica of Mamma, and Mamma,
God rest her soul, wasn’t a good match for Papa. I think he needs a
woman like Lady Raynham; she’d make an excellent wife. It’s true
she’s not beautiful, but there’s something about her…”

Cecil raised an
eyebrow, “Lady Raynham already has a husband.”

“Yes, but he
might die…”

“And you might
hang for murder.”

“If he happens
to die in a hunting accident or drowns in the lake I say we hire
her to marry Papa.”

“It wouldn’t
work. She’s in love with Raynham. Look, they’re coming up the hill.
She looks almost pretty…”

Cosmo stood to
get a better view, “Why do they have an open umbrella? The sun is
shining.”

“How should I
know? Eat your toast.” Cecil slapped the table, “George is right.
We need to find Papa a wife. Charles, go fetch paper and ink. We’ll
ask Lady Raynham to help us write an ad. Cosmo, what’s the matter?
Have you eaten too much again? You look ill.”

“What if I
can’t find a woman who’ll marry me? I’ll have to
advertise…‘Attention all unmarried females with hairy bosoms,
virgin fourth son seeks bride with money making talents. Only maids
with own teeth need apply.’ I’ll never be loved; I’ll be
miserable.”

“You’ll be
eaten by a cannibalistic Amazon if you put that ad in the
papers.”

“Thank you
George, I feel hope in my heart like a steel blade.”

“As long as it
doesn’t feel like an enema.”

“Do we have to
eat with them?” The booming question drew all five brothers’ eyes
towards the door. “Doesn’t this lunatic asylum have two breakfast
rooms?”

Lady Mary
pulled her scowling husband towards the table. “I wish to eat with
the Smirkes.”

Marshall
silently noted his wife’s embarrassed expression and then expelled
his irritation with a loud sigh as the beautiful Cecil Smirke
jumped out of his chair and made a bee-line for his ear, “Morning
Raynham, have a pleasant walk by the lake?”

“Is there a
reason you’re screaming in my ear child?”

“We need your
help. Oh good Charles found some ink and paper.” Cecil dashed back
to the table to claim his chair, but lost it to Charles.

“What is that
lunatic Smirke talking about?”

“I’ve no idea.
Have you ever seen such beautiful pastry?” Marshall was forced to
follow as Mary’s stomach pulled her to one of the two empty chairs.
He sat down and eyed the five brothers with suspicion. It was only
time before the Smirkes revealed their evil natures. He turned a
sharp eye on the shy looking Charles sitting the other side of
Mary. He looked too innocent as he dipped a pen in ink. Marshall’s
attention was dragged back to the excited Cecil.

“Why is that
lunatic waving his spoon?” Marshall felt his heart chill as Mary’s
face lit up with pleasure at something the eldest Smirke was
saying, “What’s he saying? Well? Why are you blushing?”

“They admire
your choice of wife…”

Marshall’s
heart froze at the thought of Mary being courted by a beautiful
Smirke. She’d fall in love. She’d ask for an annulment. He’d die a
broken hearted wretch. “Stay away from my wife.” The silver cow
creamer leapt into the air as Marshall thumped the table with his
fist. “She’s mine!”

“They don’t
admire me in that way Marshall. They think I’d make a good
step-mother. Their Papa is in need of a wife. They want you to help
them write an advertisement to find him one.”

How badly did
they want Mary as a step-mother? Would they be willing to make her
a widow? Five pairs of black eyes returned his angry stare with
artless enthusiasm. “Leave your Papa to find his own wife; if he
wishes to make a fool of himself that’s his business. Pass me the
eggs.” Marshall half watched the five brothers confer as he
absently heaped his plate.

“They’re afraid
their papa will marry some unsuitable female because she looks like
their mother. They say he needs help.”

“I don’t
remember Adderbury being the sort of person who’d want his
desperation printed in a broadsheet or a magazine. Let the man find
his own wife!” Five beautiful faces lit up with curiosity.

“They want to
know how you know their father.”

“We were at
school together and no we weren’t friends. I pummelled him weekly.”
Five smiles slowly fell into various expressions of perplexed
resentment.

“They want to
know why you pummelled him.”

“I understood
he was mocking me. If your friend told you I was spreading vile
rumours about you, would you ignore it or pummel me?”

“They say their
Papa wouldn’t spread rumours; he hates hearing or discussing other
people second hand.”

“My friend said
Adderbury was spreading rumours and that was good enough for
me.”

“They want to
know the name of your friend.”

“Morley; he was
my only friend.”

“Yes, the fool
trusted me.” The five Smirkes twisted angry faces towards the door
where Morley paused to lift his eye glass. “Your papa made such
amusing prey I couldn’t help myself. You should have seen it. Ugly
barrel-chested Marshall would scream deafening curses at the
beautiful lanky Adderbury too kind to stammer an ill word to the
devil. It was better than a circus.” Morley chuckled at the memory,
“Your papa was too honourable to run, so he’d put up his fists
knowing he’d be pummelled by a youthful Hercules. Those were the
days…” Morley waved his hand at the footman, “Fetch me a chair and
seat me next to Lady Mary.” She cringed towards her husband as he
rested his hand on the back of her chair, caressing her shoulder as
he leaned over her to speak into Marshall’s ear, “Good Morning
Marshall, I was just telling the Smirkes what a vile bore Adderbury
used to be. Remember that time we found him crying in his sleep and
we poured water in his bed and everyone thought he couldn’t be
bothered to get up to use a chamber pot and everyone called him
Adderburwee ‘till he left school. I’ve never been so entertained.
What have you been doing to your wife? She’s looking much improved
this morning. May I kiss her cheek?”

“Don’t touch my
wife.”

“My, aren’t we
touchy.” Morley sat down, scooted his chair closer to Mary and
whispered, “If you were my wife I’d always be touching you. I
thought deflowering a virgin last night would quench my lust, but
it hasn’t made the slightest difference. I want you even more than
yesterday…” The words were a husky hiss that scorched Mary’s cheeks
as Morley’s left foot painfully pressed down on her toes.
“…resisting only makes me want you more.”

“Stop talking
to my wife and eat your food, she doesn’t like you.”

Cecil Smirke
walked around the table and stood behind Charles’ chair, “Perchance
you’re going deaf in your old age Morley; the lady finds your
nearness offensive as would anyone with a nose. You stink.”

Morley eyed
Cecil up and down with amused contempt, “Or what child, you’ll
teach me a lesson? I’ve killed men just to see if they’d fall to
the left or right. Threaten me again boy and they won’t find your
body until the fish have feasted, comprende? Lady Mary enjoys my
company don’t you my dear?”

“No I do
not.”

“What are you
saying to my wife?”

Morley half
rose and leaned over Mary creating an opportunity to fondle her
neck, the caress visible to everyone, but her husband. Mary cringed
towards Marshall, but lusty fingers continued to explore her
person. “I was telling Lady Mary that we should all visit the
island in the lake later this afternoon. I understand there are
some magical views from the ruins.”

“Stop hovering
over my wife, you’re making her uncomfortable.”

“Your wife’s
very skittish Marshall, like a mare in heat.”

“One more rude
innuendo and I’ll knock your teeth down your throat. Here have my
place Mary; I’ll sit next to the rude libertine.” Mary eagerly
moved into the empty chair and sighed with relief as her husband
became a safe wall of muscle. She rewarded concerned blue eyes with
a grateful smile as she touched his leg.

Morley snapped
his fingers for the footman, “I’ll wager you a hundred pounds I can
row a boat of four to the island. There’s nothing like a boat race
to work up an appetite. Did you hear me Marshall? I’ll race you to
the island for one hundred pounds.”

“What?” The
haze of pleasure deafening Marshall’s brain vanished as his wife
withdrew her hand from his thigh leaving him aware of the man on
his right. “If you’re so desperate to lose your money Henry, why
don’t you throw it into the lake? I could beat you with one
arm.”

“I accept your
challenge. We’ll cut the water at two and picnic on the island.
Alyce wants to see the castle; as your father used to say, ‘One
must endeavour to please the ladies’.”

“Stay away from
my sister; you’re not fit company for an innocent. Find a poxed
dowager to laugh at your jokes and leave Alyce for a man who won’t
die of the pox.”

Morley lifted
his eyeglass and examined his old friend like a flea under
magnification. “Poxed dowagers have their uses, but vestal-virgins
are the more desirable vessel when a man is ready to harvest his
seed.”

“Touch my
sister and I’ll kill you.”

Morley put his
hand on Marshall’s shoulder, his lips twisted in cynical amusement.
“I think you’re in need of a good night’s rest Marshall.” He
lowered his voice to a sneering whisper, “Perhaps if your wife let
you sow some seed you might not be so prejudiced against me tilling
virgin earth.”

“Stay away from
my sister.”

Morley loudly
yawned as he resumed a languid posture in his chair before barking
out orders to the footman to fill his plate. His orders obeyed he
leaned back toward his friend, “You can’t cripple the course of
true love Marshall. If I win your sister’s heart how could you deny
her that which you long for more than breath? What sort of brother
would that make you? And I understand broken hearted sisters are
most difficult to control. Instead of denying her my company,
perhaps you should encourage her to fall in love with a Smirke?
Think how pleased Adderburwee would be to welcome you into the
family. What a delicious tangle that would cause. I hope you invite
me to the wedding. I’d pay to see his smirking face pale with
horror as he watches one of his precious sons marry your snotty
sister.”

Morley chuckled
as he buttered his toast, pleased to have caused so much discomfort
and hostility before noon. Smiling, he sipped his morning
chocolate. He’d enjoyed bedding Marshall’s virgin sister, but the
thought of repeating the exercise on Marshall’s virgin wife made
him catch his breath. Alyce had been too easy. She believed his
lies and suffered his passions with the docility of a dead cow.
He’d breached her defences with boring ease. What he longed for was
heartfelt resistance. He wanted to battle a woman who knew he was
deadly. To make a true conquest the fortress had to be impregnable.
If Alyce had any sense she’d forget the illegal ceremony in the
little Saxon church ever happened. What wasn’t legal, wasn’t
binding; illegal wives were easier than servants to cast aside. He
pushed back his chair so he could watch Mary smile at Marshall.
Those lips would soon be his; the future promised exquisite
pleasures of all kinds. After breakfast he’d visit Alyce and take
his pleasure again while planning Mary’s downfall. He’d begin the
assault in earnest as soon as Marshall was dead.

Mesmerising
waves lapped the red shore as a gentle breeze pressed against the
ladies skirts, revealing feminine shapes. Marshall’s eyes darted
back and forth between the food hampers being loaded in his boat
and his wife admiring the scenery. Leaning into the wind she
brought to mind a carved figurehead at the prow of a ship. She
still looked hungry, but the low cut greenish-blue wool spencerette
and thin amber silk skirts promised future curves. His heart leapt
against his chest as the matching bonnet turned and caught his eye.
The hands of his pocket watch paused as time reverently
contemplated eternity. The spell was broken by shrieks of delight
as Morley lifted Alyce off her feet and dropped her into his boat.
Marshall’s scowl was met by his sister’s smug superior smile. With
her bright glowing cheeks and all knowing expression she looked
like a bride revelling in her new position as a married woman. He’d
have to speak frankly with her about the health risks of marrying a
rakehell. The fear of losing her looks and dying young might lead
her to aspire for a better man, but her expression as Morley
playfully arranged her skirts made it unlikely.

Marshall’s
fears for his sister were forgotten as he turned back to find his
wife at his side. Amber leather gloves ineffectively pushed wisps
of honey from excited eyes, “Have you ever seen anything so
magical?”

“Not since the
last time I looked at you.”

Mary blushed as
she shook her head, “I meant the castle ruins on the island.”

Marshall
reluctantly clasped his hands behind his back as he leaned towards
his wife, “Hmmm….when we get back to London I must hire someone to
paint you.”

“Why would you
want a painting of me?”

“It’s
tradition. And I’ll have proof I momentarily possessed a magical
wife before she threw me aside for a beautiful Smirke.”

Mary sighed in
disappointment as she turned her eyes back to the island. “I can’t
imagine any man falling in love with me let alone some beautiful
Lord. The parish children didn’t call me Mary Done-for for
nothing.”