The Hired Wife (30 page)

The pain in
Lady Catherine’s chest was momentarily forgotten as she remembered
her favourite son being carried into the house in a horse blanket
after being found in the lake with a broken neck after an apparent
boating accident. Richard had been her most beautiful child, the
one who most resembled a Smirke. A stabbing pain in her chest
seemed to flicker along with a blinding light. The sound of her
lorgnette striking the parquet floor seemed to unleash a darkness
that snuffed out all pain.

Peter Smirke
and his sons rushed towards the falling old woman as she lost
consciousness, but none of them were close enough to catch her. Her
head cracked against the floor, her walking stick still clutched in
her hand. Marshall cautiously approached the fallen old woman and
looked down with hope and dread. “Is she dead?”

Kneeling at her
side Charles Smirke looked up after feeling her throat and shook
his head. “She’s alive.” The whole room relaxed in relief. “Cosmo,
find a servant and send them for the doctor.”

Cosmo Smirke
scowled at his brother who was only a year older. “Why do I have to
find a servant? You find a servant!”

“Papa, George
and Cecil are tired. Robert looks like he’s seen a ghost. I’m going
to move Lady Morley to the sofa near the window; that leaves you to
find a servant.”

“I’m a whole
inch taller than you; that means I’m bigger and stronger. I’ll
carry the old hag, you find a servant.”

“How many times
have you won an arm wrestling contest with me? None!”

“You’re only a
year older. I’m just as strong as you are. Papa, tell him to stop
ordering me around. I don’t have to do what he says.”

“Cosmo Xavier,
send for the d-doctor.”

“Yes Papa…”
Cosmo could be heard muttering curses on doctors, older brothers
and old hags as he left the room.

Charles Smirke
removed the walking stick from the old woman’s clenched fist and
gently carried her across the room towards the window where she
wouldn’t be able to see Alyce who was starting to look unpleasantly
dead. Laying Lady Morley on the sofa he lightly tapped her face.
“Lady Catherine? Can you hear me?”

Wrinkled
eyelids slowly slid back revealing watery green eyes filled with
adoration. “Oh John, I’m so glad you’re here. When did you cut your
hair? Where did you get that strange suit? Where am I? Who are
these people?”

Charles glanced
up at his father who shrugged his shoulders admitting ignorance.
With a long suffering sigh Charles forced a smile. “You’ve fallen
over and hit your head.”

“My head? My
heart feels broken.”

“Close your
eyes and rest.”

“You won’t
leave me will you?”

“Not for a
while.”

“I’m
frightened. I know we’re not engaged, but will you hold my hand?”
Charles reluctantly allowed wrinkled fingers to wrap around his
hand. “Where’s my Mother? Does she know you’re here?”

“I don’t think
so. What do you remember?”

“Nothing…are
you taking me to Gretna Green? Mamma will be furious. She thinks
you want me for my dowry. I don’t know what I want. You’re so
beautiful…Mamma says you’re too beautiful. She says I shouldn’t
encourage you. She thinks I should marry Morley, but he smells
peculiar and he drinks like a fish. I don’t think I could marry
him. I’d much rather marry you.”

With cheeks
burning bright red, Charles cleared his throat. “We’re not eloping,
we’re just visiting friends.”

“Will you be
taking me home?”

Charles looked
up at his father for guidance, but the older man appeared for once
to lack advice. Charles swallowed his nerves and said carefully. “I
don’t know…I think it best you stay here and rest for now.”

“Where are
we?”

“At Lord
Buckingham’s country seat.”

“Lord
Buckingham? The man who married his lunatic cousin who talks to
bunnies and spiders? What am I doing here? I can’t stand the woman.
She’s so smug and all knowing. She caught me looking at the stars
once at a ball and started telling me their names. She calls the
pole star Winnabellalightallover. Please don’t let her come near
me; my head hurts.”

“We’ll talk
later. Close your eyes and try to sleep until the doctor
arrives.”

Marshall leaned
over Charles’ shoulder and looked down at the old woman in relief
and said loudly, “At least she’s not dead; we have enough people to
bury. Do you know your name Madam?”

The wrinkled
eyelids flew wide in irritation. “Don’t talk so loud it hurts!”

“What did she
say? Oh…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Do you know your
name?”

“I’m Miss
Catherine Pilkington and I don’t recognise any of you except for
John. John, who are these people and why is your hair unpowdered?”
The Smirke brothers looked at each other and then at their father
who returned their bewildered stare.

Charles took a
deep breath and said calmly, “This is my family. These are my
brothers. The tall man with black hair is my father.”

“I thought your
father was dead.”

“No.”

“Oh…how
odd…he’s very beautiful. Is he looking for a wife?”

It was Peter
Smirke’s turn to blush. “You’ve had a nasty fall; c-close your eyes
and rest.”

The old woman
smiled up at the standing man her eyes blinking in appreciation.
“Why haven’t I met you before?”

“I d-don’t go
out much into Society. I have a st-stammer.”

“Oh…do you
dance?”

“Of course
Madam…”

“You may call
me Miss Catherine. Will you ask me to dance the next time we attend
the same ball?”

“It would be an
honour to dance with you Miss Catherine. Close your eyes and rest.”
It was a command. The old woman winked at him and obediently closed
her eyes.

The old woman’s
eyes flickered open as Lord Buckingham called across the room. “I’m
taking Lady Emily to her room.”

Charles hand
was released as the old woman focused on Peter Smirke. “Who’s Lady
Emily?”

“Close your
eyes and rest.”

The command was
obeyed and the Smirke family looked at each other in bewilderment
as Marshall accepted the message. Holding his wife closer he asked
Lord Adderbury in a booming whisper, “She has no close relations or
friends now that Aunt Beatrice hates her for denying Alyce married
Morely. What do we do with her if she can’t remember anything?”

“Morley’s
heir?”

Marshall shook
his head as he stared at Peter Smirke. He’d never looked into the
black eyes and allowed himself to judge the man for himself. He’d
always swallowed Morley’s lies without stopping to question their
validity. The new found knowledge of his defects made him cringe.
“The Marquisate of Morley has become extinct. Henry always said
he’d make an heir. I’d feel sorry for her if she wasn’t such a
witch. I don’t think he even produced a bastard for her to cling
to.”

Peter Smirke
leaned over to speak into Marshall’s ear, “We’ll stay for a week
and see if she regains her memory. If she remains seventeen, I’ll
take her to Morley’s p-pile to see if that t-triggers anything. She
was jilted by my father. He always felt b-bad about it. He’d want
me to help her. If she wishes, I’ll take her home with us to
Adderbury.”

Marshall’s eyes
widened in disbelief, “But she hates you!”

“If she c-can’t
remember hating me I d-don’t see why I should hold it against
her.”

“You’re a
better man than I am. I can’t wait to see the back of her. What if
she’s putting on an act to win your sympathy so she can poison your
sons? I wouldn’t let her anywhere near my children…if I had
any.”

Peter Smirke
glanced at the old woman. “What if she remembers nothing? What if
Charles has the only familiar face left t-to her in the world? It
would be c-cruel to abandon her. It would be so frightening.”

“Your sons are
good men.”

Peter Smirke
formally bowed his head accepting the compliment. “They had a good
mother.”

As Marshall
stared into black eyes, he knew instinctively that the man would
have been a life long friend if Morley hadn’t destroyed the
possibility with his lies. It was one more death to mourn; one more
reason to celebrate Morley’s death. “So did I; she’d have been
furious if she’d known how I hurt you.”

“What didn’t
k-kill me made me stronger.” Black eyes suddenly gleamed with
amusement. “Imagine how furious Morley would be to know his mother
p-prefers her Smirke memories.”

Marshall
laughed as he thumped the taller man on the back and whispered,
“His ghost is probably cursing the day he met me. Imagine all the
lives that won’t be ruined by his evil lies. Alyce won’t have died
in vain.” Marshall’s amusement faded as tears filled his eyes.
“Excuse me, I need to go to my room…and finish dressing.” Leaning
on Mary’s arm, Marshall took one last look at Alyce studying the
ceiling and dragged himself back to his room where he could mourn
in private.

Two days later
Buckingham’s houseguests converged on the little Anglo Saxon church
to put Alyce and Morley to rest side by side in the graveyard. Lady
Morley attended out of duty to the son she couldn’t remember and
watched in bewilderment as the last rites were read. The rest of
the company sighed with relief as Morley’s wool wrapped body was
dropped unceremoniously into the hole and covered with lime. Alyce
was travelling to the afterlife in a large ornate chest that Emily
had found in Buckingham’s attic. It was a tight fit, but Emily was
satisfied with the effort. She couldn’t leave her sister lying
exposed to the elements in the old icehouse for a week while a
carpenter made a coffin. Robert and his father were the only
Smirkes who watched the bodies lowered into the ground. The other
four stared slack jawed at Buckingham’s beautiful sisters huddled
around their brother for protection.

Mary held
Marshall’s hand as he stared dry eyed off into the distance as if
pretending he was attending a noxious ball filled with sneering
people instead of his sister’s burial. He hadn’t said a word all
morning. He looked stunned, as if Morley had come back from the
dead and hit him over the head with a cricket bat. His hand was dry
and lifeless. She clung to it hoping her touch would give him some
comfort until she was forced to let go to climb into the carriage
for the ride back to the house. His mute sightless stare continued
at the dining table through luncheon and into drawing room where he
sat staring out the window until dark when he excused himself with
his first words of the day, “I wish to be alone.” Mary’s heart sank
as she remained in her seat and watched him leave the room. If he
didn’t want her comfort she couldn’t force it on him. The long grim
hours of day finally came to an end allowing everyone to escape to
their private chambers for solitude or respite from others’
sorrows. Marshall remained in his room without even opening the
connecting door to kiss her goodnight.

As the clock
struck midnight Mary was still pacing her room, the single
candlestick on the mantel casting eerie shadows over the furniture.
One minute she thought she could see Morley’s ghost lounging on the
bed leering at her. Next he was on the window seat. Now he was
behind her trying to kiss her neck. She shook her head as if the
action would expel her unpleasant thoughts and leave them on the
cold floor. Morley was dead; Marshall was safe. Stopping abruptly,
she stared at the closed door leading into Marshall’s room willing
him to call out for her, but his room remained silent. Resuming her
pacing, her thick silk nightdress fluttered against her limbs as
the feeling in her chest insisted that Marshall was awake and in
need of her company.

Her pacing
tricked her legs into thinking they were taking her to Marshall,
but her heart knew that after two hours she was no closer than when
she started. She wanted to fling open the closed door and throw her
arms around him, but he’d requested solitude. Did she act on her
feelings or respect his wishes? She couldn’t hear any sounds from
the next room. He was probably fast asleep. She was fretting over
nothing. Sleep was impossible, but she was cold. Blowing out the
candle, her eyes slowly adjusted to the bluish moonlight softly
outlining the room. Shivering, she climbed into bed and ignored the
imaginary Morley lying beside her. The clock chimed 12:30. She
closed her eyes and tried to will her feet warm when a strange
choking sound from the next room made her sit upright. She flinched
as the sound was repeated coinciding with an urgent impulse to run
to her husband. She couldn’t sit there doing nothing. If he was
angry with her intrusion and rebuked her for disturbing his private
grieving she’d ignore the feeling in future.

Flinging off
her bedclothes she ran to the connecting door and jerked it open.
Hesitating, an awful choking sob drew her to the bed. Peeling back
the heavy duvet she climbed in expecting to be told to leave. The
silence gave her courage. Inching across the mattress, she bumped
against his warmth and leaned closer. “Marshall?” Reaching under
the duvet she lightly touched him. The choking sound sharpened as
he pulled his face from his pillow and reached for her.

“Merry…” She
allowed desperate hands to grope her waist and pull her half
underneath him. She said nothing as his heavy head came to rest
against her chest. Ignoring her squashed lung and aching right
breast flattened under his cheek, she silently combed her fingers
through his thick hair. “I couldn’t wait to get rid of Alyce. She
was a hussy. She was heartless. I miss her.” Mary accepted the
illogical statements and continued rhythmically combing her fingers
through his hair as her nightdress sopped up his tears. “I can’t
believe she’s dead. Last week she was so alive, so irritating. I
wish I’d never met Morley. She was my responsibility…I should have
killed him for that, that travesty of a wedding.”