The Hired Wife (16 page)

Masculine
fingers took hold of her chin demanding her gaze. “You’ll be done
for if you don’t believe me when I tell you I have a magical
wife.”

“Oh? And how
will I be done for my Lord?”

“You’ll be
eating tripe morning noon and night until you’re a believer.”

“I believe
you.”

“See that you
do Merry Wife. I hate it when people I admire discount my sincere
praise as meaningless twaddle.”

Mary stared
into bright blue eyes, her imagination conjuring adoration. Yes he
was plain, but there was a masculine charm to his features and his
kisses caused the sweetest sensations. It was an easy face to meet
at the breakfast table. “I could never marry a beautiful man. I’d
always feel mismatched. I’d never be truly comfortable…unless he
was blind.”

“Hmmm…I hope
this doesn’t mean you’re going to gouge out my eyes one evening
while I sleep Mrs Godfrey?”

“Not unless
they’re real sapphires and you’re only pretending to see me…”

Marshall shook
with laughter as he let go of her chin and held out his hand,
“Saucebox! If I had any magic I’d cast a spell on you.”

“What kind of
spell would that be my Lord?” Mary held her breath as hungry
sapphires glinted with a boyish smile.

“A binding
one.” Her gloved hand was raised to his lips. “Now have done,
before I decide the risk of being blinded far outweighs any hope of
happiness.” Mary was abruptly horizontal mid-air looking up at a
determined chin wrapped in fresh white linen. Placed upright on the
middle perch, Mary clutched her seat as the rowboat wobbled back
and forth. Marshall shrugged off his jacket and threw it down
beside her before climbing in at the same time as Buckingham at
opposite end nearly tipping Mary and Emily into the lake. Emily
squealed with delight as Buckingham fell laughing into her arms,
but was soon quiet as Buckingham whispered legends of the lake into
her ear. Deaf to the couple behind her, Mary watched her husband
remove his cravat. “Do you know how to swim?” She shook her head.
“I’ll order you a bathing costume when we return to London. When
we’re free of my sisters I’ll take you home and throw you in my
lake. You’ll be swimming like an eel in no time.”

“I’d rather
swim like a mermaid.”

“I can’t hear
you.” Mary watched fascinated as Marshall rolled up his
shirtsleeves revealing muscled forearms covered in straight brown
hair. She stared at the exotic male flesh as he shouted, “Pick up
your oars Henry, my wife’s getting hungry.”

Morley sneered
across the short distance before turning back to his three
passengers and saying in a smug tone, “So is mine!”

“I’m famished
Henry, row like the devil. I haven’t eaten a morsel since last
night. Every time I tried to get up I was…otherwise detained.”

“So you were,
but perhaps we should spare our relations any naked details; it’ll
make Mother sick.”

“Morley has
always been a thoughtful boy.” Beatrice nodded in agreement. “He
takes after me of course. His father was a soldier. He’d come home
for a few months and then be away on some silly campaign. It suited
us, but after our three eldest sons all died in freak accidents My
Lord Morley lost his lust for battle and drank himself to death. He
said his line would expire in infamy. I reminded him we still had
Henry, but he ordered another dozen bottles and wished me to the
devil. I tried to persuade him to return to France. I tried to
persuade him that dying in battle would be less scandalous than
dying of drink, but he said he’d only leave the house in a coffin.
He had his wish. Morley found his father’s body in his library a
few months later. Morley had the bad luck to be the one to find all
of his brother’s bodies as well as his father’s.”

“Yes, it was
very rude of them to die where I’d find them.”

The Dowager
Marchioness scowled as servants roughly pushed the boat into deeper
water. “I still believe my three eldest sons were murdered by one
of the jealous peasants always cutting across our land which is
sandwiched between two villages. Whoever thought to allow that
second village was a cretin. I ordered My Lord Morley to have it
knocked down, but the fool wouldn’t hear of it. If it hadn’t been
for that second village our eldest son, David would never have
fallen in love with a farmer’s daughter. She’d trespass every
Thursday to market. The morning he died I told him to bed the girl
and be done with her. He was so angry he nearly had a fit as if a
nameless chit can have honour and swore he’d marry the girl or be
damned. The chit had nothing but a sickly sweet disposition and a
pretty face. She wasn’t marriage material for a Vicar, let alone
the next Marquis of Morley. I thought I’d die of shame and then
they came to tell me David was dead. It was an awful blow. My third
son as you know died falling down the steps of the old Fitzalan
keep when he was ten. I had it torn down after that. As for that
scheming slut, her true nature became public when she died in
childbirth after accusing Morley of the grossest indecency. If she
thought she could blackmail her way into my family she was
mistaken.”

The Marquis of
Morley met his bride’s raised eyebrow with an easy smile, “She
begged me to pleasure her and I was happy to oblige.” Morley
abruptly leaned heavily to one side to pick up an oar. The side of
the boat slapped the water’s surface as the three ladies pitched
towards the water only to be saved by Morley leaning heavily to the
other side. Screams of fright became screams of encouragement as
Morley oars expertly sliced the water starting the race by
default.

…

The Five
Smirkes stood at the top of the hill staring down at the lake
watching the two boats launch. Cosmo turned to glare at his eldest
brother looking through a small telescope at the lake, “I don’t
think Papa would mind in the least if we rowed out to the island.
We always row in the sea when we visit Cousin Llewellyn and that’s
far more dangerous than a stupid lake. I want to see if the ruins
have any old graffiti for my collection. Why do we have to spend
the day hunting snails for Robert? He has too many dead things in
his chamber at home; it stinks!”

“At least my
room doesn’t smell like your shoes. Unlike your useless collection
of numerical facts and graffiti rubbings, I’m a follower of Bodeo
da Stapek, Leeuwnhoek and Linnaeus. While you read ladies fashion
magazines and dream of exorcising your inactive spermatozoa on some
hairy Amazon, I’m discovering and collecting new species. I’ll
change the world while you change your smalls.”

“Cecil, tell
him to shut up. He’s not allowed to make fun of my
collections.”

Cecil handed
the telescope back to George who shared his long suffering
expression. “Cosmo; you’re nineteen not nine. You may do as you
please, if you can outrun me. If you insist on venturing onto the
water, tempting fate before you’ve kissed a girl, suit
yourself.”

“I don’t want
to go by myself…Charles?”

Charles’s upper
lip curled in distaste, “If I have to endanger my life one more
time helping you make another rubbing of some forgotten idiot’s
name or insignia, I’ll have the local sawbones remove my arms.”

George put the
telescope to his right eye, “That’s an idea; no one would ever
confuse you with Uncle John.”

Cecil slapped
his sulking brother on the back, “Cheer up Cosmo, when we’ve found
Robert some snails we’ll ride over to the Saxon church and see if a
bored church goer carved his name into a pew. It’ll save Charles’
arms for his future wife.”

“I don’t want
to visit the stupid church; I want to visit the castle.”

“It’s not safe
and that’s the end of it.”

“Nothing in
life is safe Cecil. Do you know how many people die…?”

“Spare us your
facts and try not to drown or break your neck until after we rejoin
Papa. Just think how blessed you are not to have to look at
Morley’s stupid face all day. The snotty Alyce Godfrey looks
determined to become Morley’s mattress. If she was my sister I’d
lock her in her room ‘til Morley died of the pox. At least Raynham
has the sense to disapprove…”

George raised
his telescope and watched the two boats glide toward the island, “I
have an awful feeling Morley married her last night.”

Robert
violently shook his head, “No! Alyce can’t have married that
moulding satyr. I walked with her yesterday morning in the
conservatory. She gave no indication of being about to marry anyone
I assure you.”

“Didn’t you see
their faces when they returned from visiting that church with the
old women? She looked like a blushing bride on the arms of a
decrepit Pan about to play his pipes. If you’d asked for a
telescope for your birthday instead of a dozen large bell-jars
Robert, you’d have just seen Morley take husbandly liberties with
the girl. Can you imagine having to see Morley naked? Ugh!”

Cosmo forgot
about hitting his younger brother and turned to stare at the tiny
boats, “But she’s only nineteen; she can’t marry without her
brother’s permission…”

“I tell you,
there’s no way she wilfully married Morley. He must have
blackmailed her. He must have forced her…”

George folded
his eyeglass and shoved it in a pocket. “I hope you haven’t been
kissing the girl Robert…zut alors you little fumbler. Look at his
face Cecil, it’s on fire. I hope you kept your trousers buttoned
because if Morley has married the wench and she gives birth to a
black eyed babe you’re dead. If Morley doesn’t fill you with lead,
Papa will torture you with an eternal lecture on being a good man
and then send you to stay with Uncle John who you know will kindly
kill you with his own lecture on why you don’t want to end up in
hell.”

Charles Smirke
eyed his baby brother with concern, “Let’s hope the wench has
enough sense not to mention your tête a tête to Morley. Whether
she’s married him or not, if you have any sense you’ll avoid her
like the pox. Keep your lips to yourself or I’ll kiss them with my
fists.”

“At least
she’ll know Morley’s a bad kisser, but Charles and George are
right; from now Alyce is the pox.”

“You don’t know
her; she’s amusing and sweet and…stop looking at me like that
George. You’re just jealous because she doesn’t want to kiss
you.”

George sighed
as he rolled his eyes. “What do we do with him Cecil? The child has
fallen for a pretty face and a patch box of lies.”

“I’m seventeen
and as much a man as any of you.” His four older brothers’ derisive
snorts of laughter fanned his fury. “If you call yourself men, tell
me one thing about women, one fact that you’ve learned from
experience? Oh wait; you have no experience because you’re all
virgins. You wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if you found one
naked in your bed.” His four older brothers were no longer
laughing. “Why are you so shocked? I’m not a louse under Robert
Hooke’s telescope; I’m a biological being performing my
functions.”

Cecil shook his
head in horror, “You’re an idiot. Did you mate Alyce?”

“How could you
think I’d ruin an unmarried lady of quality?”

Cosmo’s jaw
dropped as his black eyes burned with envy, “How could you spread
your seed like a mindless dog? What if you get the pox? What if you
give some poor girl the pox and a babe? What are you going to do
then Robert Smirke? How are you going to tell Papa without dying of
shame?”

“Well I’m not
going to marry a wench who begs me to pleasure her; if she gets
with child that’s her problem.”

George looked
from Robert to Cecil with horror, “Papa is going to kill us;
Robert’s turning into Uncle John.”

“I’m nothing
like Uncle John. You’re never going to see me sobbing for a woman
and wiping snot all over my sleeves.”

“If you catch
the pox there’s a good chance you won’t be sane by thirty-three to
replicate Uncle John’s good fortune in finding a lunatic as pretty
as Aunt Joan to love you. We’ve all visited Bedlam; you know you’ll
have more than snot on your sleeves.”

“I’m not going
to catch the pox.”

Cecil eyed his
baby brother with exasperation, “That’s what all the poxed idiots
said before they lost their health. Let’s find Robert some snails.
If they don’t keep his mind off petticoats we’ll have to encourage
him by other means.”

Entranced by
Mary’s admiring glances, Marshall mechanically rowed past the
island. He wasn’t far from the opposite shore before realising his
mistake. His masculine cheeks were a suspicious salmon pink as he
cursed himself under his breath and turned the boat around. The
last thing he’d wanted was to look a fool. The ladies in Morley’s
boat screeched in triumphant victory as Marshall rowed his boat
close to shore.

Marshall didn’t
care about losing; he was content to pick up his wife and carry her
to dry land. Most of the party wished to immediately explore the
castle, but Alyce loudly demanded food and after hissing threats at
Buckingham and her sister they relented. Sitting down to lunch,
Marshall declined Mary’s attempts to tell him what people were
saying and ate in silence. His thoughts were taken up by Mary’s
nearness. Was she really only inches away? It felt like a thousand
miles. Putting aside his plate, Marshall stared unseeing as his
inner stillness was swamped by a need to touch his wife.

He couldn’t
hear Buckingham entertain the company with stories of the castle’s
strange history. His hand self-consciously hovered nervously over
his knee before bravely making the move to Mary’s leg. A flitting
shy smile sanctioned the caress; Marshall relaxed feeling giddy
from success and the feel of warm flesh through thin layers of
silk. Victory was galloping into view.

After twenty
minutes of Buckingham’s rambling, Lady Morley shivered as the wind
rose, whisking the calm lake into a muddy punch. Sunlight reflected
off dazzling white spikes of meringue, raising the awful spectre of
a capsized rowboat. Having lost her second and favourite son in a
boating accident, the fear of being pulled into hungry water had
long been a reoccurring nightmare. She stood interrupting her host,
“Morley, take me back to the house at once; the water is becoming
dangerous.”