White Water Page 30

  ‘’Tis for you,’ he whispered. ‘See how ready I am for your warm sweetness? I have missed you these last few nights.’

  ‘And I you.’

  His hands slid over her, touching her ears, throat, shoulders. She felt a slight thrill and prayed, ‘Let me make him happy this last time. Let it be the best time, dear God.’ He was feeling for her nipples and the thrill came again, intensified. If only her body would take over from her mind. His hands moved to her abdomen and he stroked the taut skin, then kissed her thighs, and between her legs.

  ‘Martin! Oh Martin!’

  He took each hand and licked the palm. It was unbearably sweet and she moaned, knowing that her love sounds increased his own excitement; knowing that he liked to linger over her, saving the greatest thrill until much later — like a child with a cherry cake, she had teased him. She wanted him to reassure her — to tell her that no other woman would satisfy him so well. But it was not his way. Now he would make love to her almost without words. He could rouse her with his fingers and tongue. He rolled her over and began to trace her spine with his fingers. As she sighed she opened her eyes but saw the outline of the unfamiliar window and closed them again.

  ‘I’ll never forget our loving,’ he whispered suddenly and she was surprised and turned over to see his face.

  ‘I mean it,’ he told her urgently. ‘I want you to know you are my first woman and that is unforgettable.’

  ‘And you are my first man.’

  She wanted to add: ‘and you have given me your child’. But she could not do it. This night was for lovers. Already it was too good to share. He moved until he was above her and his weight crushed her. Tonight there would be no delaying. His entry into her was fierce, greedy — almost triumphant. And yet, she thought, so very sad.

  *

  Minnie looked at her daughter, thunderstruck.

  ‘Felicity Carr? ’Tis not possible,’ she asked. ‘Did you see it with your own eyes?’

  ‘No, but I saw her coming out this morning. ’Twas very early and she was on tiptoes, wearing only what she was born in! ’Tis true, I tell you. Why should I make up such a story?’

  ‘Why indeed? Then I’m sorry for doubting you.’ Minnie frowned at the carrots she was scraping. ‘Have you told anyone this?’

  ‘Only you. Do you think they were — ’ She giggled. ‘You know?’

  ‘Well, if they weren’t, I’m a monkey on a stick! Why else should a girl go to a young man’s bed chamber? Dearie me! Felicity Carr! Who’d have thought she’d dare such a trick? Mind you, I’ll wager she’s been encouraged. She’d not go to him otherwise. Young Martin and Felicity Carr! I can hardly credit it. And mother-naked, too! She must have known what they’d be doing.’

  ‘She had a shawl round her,’ said Ellie reluctantly.

  ‘A shawl? ’Tis not what you said before.’

  ‘She was naked under the shawl.’ Ellie wriggled uncomfortably under her mother’s gaze. ‘The rest was all true.’

  ‘I hope so for the sake of your soul, my girl.’

  ‘I swear it.’

  ‘Hmm! And she didn’t see you?’

  ‘No. She had tears in her eyes and her hand up to her mouth — so.’ Ellie put a hand to her own mouth in a gesture of distress and Minnie’s heart was instantly softened. Her earlier disapproval vanished. Felicity was no longer a wanton hussy but a wronged woman.

  ‘Poor little girl,’ she said. ‘I wonder how long that’s been going on? I wonder … Mind you, I did think it strange, sending young Martin down there but then again, he’s only a lad. At least — ’

  ‘He’s sixteen!’ said Ellie. ‘He’s old enough!’

  Minnie shook her head and began to slice the carrots into a pan. She realized suddenly that Ellie, opposite, was leaning on the table doing nothing useful and she pushed pan, carrots and knife across to her.

  Ellie grimaced but began to slice, while Minnie went into the larder and collected two hares and began to skin them with quick practised movements.

  ‘D’you reckon she’ll have a baby?’ asked Ellie. ‘If she did — you know — ’

  ‘Sweet Heaven, don’t speak of it!’ Minnie’s dismay was almost comical. ‘Not that nice girl! Oh, that would put the cat among the pigeons!’ She knew the griefs of an illegitimate child, for Ben, her eldest, had been born out of wedlock and Minnie preferred not to remember the miseries and hardships she endured at that time. True, she was partly to blame for she had run away from Heron and all those who would have helped her. But her innate stubbornness — cussedness Jon called it! — had prevailed, and she gave birth to the child alone. Unable to care for it, she left the baby on the doorstep at Heron and disappeared. Now her eyes darkened as she recalled the degradation she had undergone and the depths to which she had fallen.

  A deep sigh did not escape Ellie who looked at her curiously.

  ‘Do you pity her, Ma? Martin be handsome enough. I’d creep to his room if he asked me — Ow!’

  Minnie’s hand caught her across the face and she half fell from the stool. ‘Don’t you do no such thing!’ cried Minnie. ‘Unless you want a good hiding from your Pa — and another from me. Creep to his room indeed! He’s not so handsome as to wed you, that’s for sure.’

  Ellie ignored the blow. ‘Why then, won’t he wed Felicity?’

  ‘Most likely not, young rogue. They’d not let him if he wanted to, for she’s a church mouse and Heron needs money. Times are hard. Poor girl. Poor foolish girl. But there, we will do these things and then there’s the reckoning.’

  Her own reckoning had been immediate and she did not envy Felicity the road ahead if she was with child, although the family would surely provide for her. They were good people, the Kendals, and Maria was the best of them all. Since Luke’s death Minnie had transferred her devotion to Maria, for it was she who had finally saved her from her own folly. It was to Maria she had run, at the Arnsville convent. There she had queued with the ‘poor’ at the kitchen door, waiting for the scraps left over from the nuns’ supper. Maria had recognized her and taken her in. She had fed her, washed her, cared for her — and she had given her love as well as the reproaches. Then she had taken her back to Heron and Jon had wed her and Ben, her child, had been handed back to her. She had been more fortunate than she deserved. Felicity’s path might be harder.

  ‘He’ll never wed her,’ she said. ‘Poor Felicity. If she’s with child she’ll have a hard row to hoe!’

  Outside the kitchen door Eloise halted incredulously. She caught the last few words and the shock sent the colour from her face. The words rang in her ears but for a moment she would not believe them. It could not be Felicity Carr of whom they spoke. It was not possible. Ellie’s next words, however, dispelled her doubts.

  ‘Then Martin’s a pig! I shan’t smile at him ever again. I shall keep my face so straight he’ll know. He’ll know what I think of him.’

  ‘Will you, then?’ said Minnie.

  Eloise turned, her heart hammering under her ribs, and fled back to her room.

  *

  Hugo finished reading the letter and handed it back to Maria. He looked defeated and utterly dejected.

  ‘So she wrote to them,’ he said. ‘We should have expected it — and yet it didn’t enter my head that she would want to go. We have nothing to offer her — not even a husband — and yet I didn’t think she would want to leave us. Was that very vain of me? The Ballantynes are very angry and who can blame them?’

  ‘I can,’ said Maria, ‘and I do blame them. If Eloise had wed Allan on the proper day she would be his wife. There would be no running away then. She would have taken the good and the bad with the rest of us.’

  ‘Mayhap ’tis well she didn’t wed him. To turn her back when things go ill with us! We must let her go, of course, and the dowry goes with her. Oh Maria, I’m so weary of it all. What’s to be done? We are bedevilled on all sides. The mine, Allan, Martin and Felicity and now this.’

  Maria did not answer. She was read
ing James Ballantyne’s letter for the second time. Its tone was uncompromising:

  ‘A letter from my beloved daughter disturbs me greatly and you will understand my horror when the full extent of her predicament is revealed to me. ’Tis greatly to her credit that she has borne in silence for so long the indignity heaped upon her by the disappearance of her betrothed. Your son, Allan, in whom we placed such trust, has deceived us all and there can be no valid excuse for his cruel behaviour. You did not inform us of his departure and we take that most unkindly, considering you to have a duty to us in all such matters. My daughter speaks also of certain revelations regarding your son’s forebears. The Gillis strain would seem to be an evil one, combining madness with the black arts, and those facts should have been revealed to us during our earliest negotiations. ’Tis most certain we should then have terminated all arrangements for the union, desiring our daughter to wed an upright man of wholesome descent.

  We are determined that Eloise shall return to Rochester at the earliest opportunity and have instructed our solicitor to travel to Ashburton in one week’s time and bring her home. During his visit to your home he will also serve upon you documents authorizing the return of the dowry in full. This letter is intended to forewarn you of this fact, so that you may make these preparations as are necessary to raise this sum and give Eloise time to prepare for the journey home.

  I will speak no further of the disillusionment we feel towards the Kendal family. Abigail and Adam Jarman have been our friends for many years, but we must reluctantly consider them party to the deceit you have practised upon us, and our feelings towards them have undergone a change. When our daughter is once more under our roof we shall sever all Kendal connections … James Ballantyne, this first month of the year fifteen seventy-seven.’

  ‘He is right, Hugo,’ Maria said slowly. ‘We were at fault.’

  ‘There is nought wrong with Allan!’ shouted Hugo. ‘He is a fine — ’ He could not finish. ‘Let us say that there is no trace of madness nor black arts. I don’t pretend he is perfect — but is any man? Irresponsible, aye and moody. Unpredictable, even. But nought else. Upright and wholesome! The man’s a pompous fool! I misjudged him utterly.’ Maria agreed. Wrath was preferable to dejection, she thought. ‘But when I set eyes on him — Allan, that is — I shan’t mince my words. To bring such shame upon us!’

  ‘Poor Abby,’ said Maria. ‘She was so proud of having recommended Eloise and now feels so badly. Ah well, ’tis done and we must all come to terms with it. Who will tell Eloise?’

  ‘Mayhap you should,’ said Hugo. ‘I may say something I’ll regret. She has a week, tell her, and Ellie can help her pack. I must see what can be done about the money.’ Maria folded the letter. ‘And poor Allan — when he comes home she’ll be gone.’

  ‘Poor Allan? The young fool has only himself to blame.’

  ‘That’s not quite so, Hugo. He is not to blame for the Gillises.’

  ‘You are right. But without Isobel Gillis his father would not have been born and neither would he. In a way he owes his very life to them. He should think on that!’

  And he stormed out, leaving Maria to consider the point. It was a new slant on a vexed question and she thought about it with some eagerness, wondering if it might reconcile Allan to the otherwise unacceptable branch of his family. Then, with a dismissive gesture, she put the idea aside and went in search of Eloise.

  *

  Martin paused at the stable door and took a last look at the familiar scene. He had the feeling that he was seeing it for the last time and yet he knew that was not so. Romney House was his home but Heron would always be here. He would visit. He would always be welcome. His present transgression would be forgiven and he would ride in again through the familiar gates and Jon would run out to take his horse and welcome him back. So why, he asked himself irritably, did he feel this remorse? As though he was closing the last page of a book. He shrugged mentally and opened the half door. His horse neighed at the sight of him and tossed his head eagerly. Jon had saddled him already and it only remained for Martin to strap on the bundles. He ran a hand down the smooth dark neck and patted the broad back.

  ‘Come on, Sedge. ’Tis just you and I this time.’

  Felicity had ridden with him on the outward journey. Now she would remain at Heron for a few weeks until final arrangements had been made for her. He tried not to recall her distress as she left his bed chamber. He had wanted the night to be happy for them both. He had planned that their parting should be a memorable one, but she had wept and it had turned sour. His pity for Felicity was mingled with a faint resentment that she had spoilt their last moments together.

  He would miss her at Romney House, in fact, he could not imagine it without her. There was an emptiness inside him that was fast becoming a feeling of desolation. He tugged at the straps and rocked the bundle to make sure it was secure. The basket would go on the other side. As he moved round, the horse tossed its head and Martin saw Eloise approaching. She moved quickly and there was no smile on her face. His spirits fell further. Surely she did not know! He glanced round anxiously, hoping that Jon was nowhere within earshot. If Eloise was going to raise her voice …

  ‘I hear from servants’ gossip,’ she said without preamble, ‘that another bastard Kendal is on the way.’

  Martin fought down a desire to hit the beautiful mouth that spoke so harshly. Instead he closed his eyes and did not answer.

  ‘Did you hear me?’ she demanded.

  The warm rose-coloured gown contrasted with the pallor of her face and her eyes were green and cold.

  ‘You shouldn’t listen to gossip,’ he said and bent to examine the horse’s legs and ankles.

  ‘Is it true?’

  ‘’Tis not your affair.’

  ‘I think differently. I think ’tis the affair of the whole family if you have gotten a servant with child.’

  ‘Felicity is not a servant.’

  ‘So you admit it?’

  ‘I said she is not a servant. I do not admit nor deny anything. And how does it concern you? I hear, through more reliable channels, that you are leaving for Rochester at the end of the week. You’ll no longer be a member of the family so why are you so interested?’

  Her eyes glittered and he saw her mouth move convulsively. She was struggling to control her feelings, but he knew that it would not take much to make her lose that control. God’s wounds! he thought angrily. Not more tears! Women were desirable creatures, but they could be the very devil when crossed. He had been hoping to slip away while Hugo was at Ladyford with just a quiet farewell to Felicity and Maria. A quarrel with Eloise was to be avoided if possible. He must try to moderate his tongue.

  ‘You know why I am interested!’ she snapped. ‘Because, if you recall, ’twas not long since you were declaring your passion for me! ’Twas me that you loved — or so you would have me believe. Was that all false? Were they lies?’

  ‘In faith I don’t recall it well. If you say ’tis so — ’

  ‘You — you pretend not to remember? Oh, what nonsense. You recall perfectly but are ashamed to — ’

  ‘I’m ashamed of nothing!’

  ‘Then more’s the pity for you should be, Martin. You should be ashamed of trifling with my affections and of toying with a servant! No doubt you told her you loved her and the poor little fool believed you. Did you promise to wed her? You slept with her and yet — ’ She broke off, choking back words she did not want to say.

  Martin was fast losing his temper. If she was determined to goad him she would regret it. What did it matter? He had already blotted his copybook and was surrounded by disapproval on all sides. He no longer cared for their good opinions.

  ‘You mean I bestowed my favours on Felicity instead of you,’ he said. ‘I chose her bed and not yours. Her body instead of — ’

  ‘Don’t! Don’t you dare compare me with her. ’Twas you wanted it — you that begged, saying that you loved me.’

  ‘Saying that
we loved each other. Aye, I’d have wed you but you were too greedy. Felicity is not greedy. She asked nothing in return. Nothing. I won’t compare you for there is no comparison. Felicity is worth two of you! There, you wanted the truth. Now you have it.’

  Her bosom heaved passionately and she was gasping for breath. Martin thought dispassionately that she had never looked more beautiful with her flushed cheeks and wild expression. A pity she was such a shrew. Eloise stared at him furiously, but a similar thought intruded into her consciousness. His body still appealed to her animal senses, and if he offered her one crumb of comfort she would take it readily and the way would be clear for a reconciliation. If he touched her she would flame with desire. But no! She had forgotten Felicity. That damned strumpet! And the child! That would always be between them. No. Martin Kendal’s body might cry out and hers might answer but Felicity had effectively come between them forever.

  ‘You are worse than worthless, Martin Kendal,’ she told him. ‘You are arrogant, selfish, unscrupulous, shallow. And your Gillis brother is no better. A plague on the Kendals! I shall watch your ruin with great pleasure. I shall — ’

  He had swung himself into the saddle and sat looking down into the glorious face that spat so venomously. He had no desire now to make any farewells.

  ‘And God be with you, too, ma’am,’ he mocked and, spurring his startled horse, cantered across the stable yard and out through the gate.

  Eloise, incensed beyond all bearing, ran after him, stumbling precariously on the uneven cobbles and screaming vengefully, but by the time she reached the gate he was out of sight and the sound of hoof beats was fading. She would never see him again.

  *

  The store behind the chandler’s was a poor exchange for the splendours of Heron, but Eloise Ballantyne knew she would die rather than admit as much to Steven Kennet. He sat opposite her, sprawled across a pile of ropes, his eyes fixed upon her face. She had told him about her disastrous alliance with the Kendal family and her determined efforts, from the very first day, to free herself. Sitting on a new wooden sea chest, she looked as beautiful as ever with her blue eyes flashing fire at the memory of the indignities she had suffered. The long fair curls rested on her softly rounded shoulders, and she twisted a strand of hair as she spoke, occasionally releasing it so that it sprang back among its fellows.