by Iris Gower
‘But you didn’t love her?’
Watt sighed heavily. ‘Not then. I do now and love might have come too late for me. Think carefully before you write your marriage off, Llinos, give Joe a chance.’
Before Llinos could reply, the door opened and the maid peered in.
‘A visitor, madam.’ She bobbed a curtsey. ‘It’s Mr Eynon Morton-Edwards, shall I show him in?’
Llinos nodded and gave Watt a warning glance.
‘Don’t say anything about my troubles to Eynon, right?’
Eynon was flushed from the fresh morning air. He swept Llinos into his arms and kissed her on both cheeks.
‘Llinos, you’re looking lovelier than ever.’ He turned to Watt and shook hands with him. Watt might be below Eynon in station but Eynon had never been a snob.
‘You looking after my lovely friend properly, Watt?’ Eynon felt at ease in Llinos’s company.
Watt forced a smile. ‘I’m doing my best but Llinos is a strong-minded woman, you know that as well as I do.’
Eynon nodded. ‘I do indeed.’ He paused. ‘Enough of the pleasantries, I want to know what’s going on.’
Watt moved rapidly to the door. ‘I’d better get back to work, there’s a lot to be done, kilns to check, pots to be glazed, you know.’
When Watt left the room Eynon seated himself in one of the armchairs, his fair hair falling over his brow. He was looking at her questioningly and she forced a smile.
‘I’m just fine, Eynon, how about you?’
He sighed heavily. ‘Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about the trouble you’re in?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, Eynon.’
‘Well you’re going to have to talk about it. Look, Llinos, I only want to help you.’
‘How?’
‘I’ll pay off the creditors for a start and then I’ll tear that man Sparks from limb to limb!’
Llinos thought of the little bank manager with his long nose and his sweating brow and shuddered. Surely he was too weak, too pitiful, to have stolen money from her account?
‘Sparks has been caught embezzling.’ Eynon must have read her thoughts. ‘No wonder your bills weren’t paid, the money was finding its way into Sparks’s own pockets.’ He shook his head. ‘The man wasn’t even clever in the way he went about it. His bookkeeping was crude to say the least. He’s bound to end up in prison.’
He leaned forward and stared earnestly at Llinos. ‘Give me all your bills and let me see to them for you.’
‘No, I’m all right, there’s nothing going on that I can’t handle.’ Llinos looked away; she had no intention of letting Eynon take over her life. She knew that he would give her any amount of money she asked for but she would not be beholden to any man ever again.
‘But I want to help.’
‘Don’t!’ Llinos felt she could take no more. She rose to her feet and walked to the door. ‘I have to rest, Eynon, forgive me,’ she said and, quietly, she left the room.
Edward stared at himself in the mirror above the mantelpiece. He looked a sight; his glasses were cracked and his nose would not stop bleeding. But the few smacks John Pendennis had given him would be nothing to the treatment he would receive if Bull did not get his money.
He tried to think clearly, to find a way out of the mess. Surely there must be a way to keep himself alive if not out of prison? Soon John would be back, coercing him into signing away his house but why should John Pendennis get away with anything? Edward was in the mire and it would give him some satisfaction if John ended up in the mire with him.
Why not offer Bull the deeds of the house as payment of the debt? Perhaps he should clean himself up and see Bull right away. Galvanized now, he hurried towards the safe. It was empty. John had taken the deeds with him.
Edward sank onto the floor and put his head in his hands, it was the end of the road, he was ruined, he would rot in jail until he died. Or worse, he would die a violent death.
How he hated everyone: Alice and her spendthrift ways, Llinos Mainwaring and now John Pendennis. They were all out to get him, to see him brought down like a hunted animal. Well he would not give them the satisfaction, not any of them.
There was a sudden thunderous knocking on the door and Edward jerked backwards, fear turning his belly to water. He knew who it was, Bull come to get his money. A rough voice called to him from outside and his worst fears were confirmed.
‘Open the door, you lily-livered bastard! You’ve hidden away long enough! Come on, open up, I want my money and I want it now.’
Edward clambered to his feet and picked up the bottle of brandy that Alice had kept for her more elegant visitors. Not that there had been any. Just as well; he needed another drink right now.
He took off the stopper and held the decanter to his lips, allowing the tawny liquid to slip down his throat. It stung like fire and Edward gasped for breath. But the drink warmed his belly, made him feel in charge of his destiny. He tipped the bottle up again and again until it was almost empty.
‘Fire water!’ He staggered across the room. ‘Hell fire and damnation! Damnation to you, Alice!’ He belched loudly. ‘And to you, Mrs high-and-mighty Mainwaring! Damnation to all gamblers, most of all damnation to John Pendennis. I’ll cheat the lot of you yet.’
He lit a taper from the fire and set light to the edge of the curtains. The flame took hold and roared upwards with a sound like a great gale. Edward laughed. ‘Hell fire!’ He drained the bottle and flung it into the grate. The flame leapt from behind the bars, picking up the dregs of brandy, and raced towards the carpet.
‘Burn, you bastards! Burn, the whole damned lot of you!’ He staggered from the room and, clinging to the banister, staggered up the stairs. He left the door of the bedroom open and flung himself onto the bed, seeing, with fascination, the flickering glow of fire from the hallway dance on the ceiling and walls.
The large quantity of brandy he had consumed was making his head spin. Spirals of smoke were weaving across the room towards him like hissing snakes. He held up his arms as if to welcome them. If he had to die then it would be by his own hand. Edward Sparks would show them all just what he was made of. He would never rot in a stinking jail. He would not allow himself to be humiliated by men no better than himself. This house was his and it was fitting it should burn to the ground rather than belong to someone else.
He began to cough as the smoke became thicker. He breathed it in and felt it sear his lungs. A great darkness was coming to close him in and he welcomed it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The doctor had just left and Alice was lying against her pillows, her hair dishevelled, her face pale, but then the doctor had bled Alice quite copiously, a practice that Rosie would have declined had she been the patient. She had remained in the room throughout the examination; she had heard the doctor tell Alice that she had an inflamed stomach. Privately, she thought the doctor was making light of Alice’s condition.
‘I’m sure it’s worse than he’s telling me.’ Alice’s words reflected Rosie’s own thoughts. She propped herself up on the pillows and Rosie hastened to help her. ‘I feel so ill.’
‘Try not to worry,’ Rosie said. ‘It’s only a little over a week since you buried your father remember, you are bound to be unsettled.’
Alice looked up at her a little sheepishly. ‘I know, I suppose I’m already putting father out of my mind. I’m so selfish, aren’t I?’
‘Of course not!’ Rosie protested. ‘You just are at a low ebb right now.’
Rosie was adjusting the bedcovers when one of the maids knocked on the door and peered inside. ‘Please, madam, there’s a message for you.’
Alice looked up at her. ‘All right then, come in, girl, and give it to me.’
The maid handed her a letter and stepped back as though frightened of Alice’s reaction.
‘Oh my God!’ Alice looked up at Rosie. ‘He’s dead, Edward is dead.’
‘He can’t be!’ It was a stupid thing to
say. Rosie took the letter and read it herself and she shook her head.
‘How awful, to die in a fire like that!’
‘There’s a big spread about it in the newspaper, madam,’ the maid ventured and Rosie waved her away impatiently. ‘Not now, Sadie!’
‘Bring it.’ Alice’s tone was curt. ‘I want to see what they say about him.’
Rosie led the maid to the door and closed it firmly behind her. This was the last thing Alice needed right now.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs . . . er . . . Alice.’ She would never get used to calling Mrs Sparks by her given name, Rosie thought. ‘I would have tried to stop Sadie telling you had I known. You’ve had one awful shock after another, no wonder you feel ill.’
‘Don’t be sorry,’ Alice said heavily. ‘Edward dying might be the one decent thing he’s ever done in his life. He was a crook and a liar and a mean-spirited man into the bargain.’
‘It’s a shock all the same,’ Rosie said firmly. ‘Shall I cancel your visitors for this afternoon?’
‘No!’ Alice shook her head. ‘I’m not too ill to receive guests for afternoon tea, Rosie. You heard what the doctor said, I’ve got an inflamed stomach not a sore tongue.’
The maid returned with the newspaper and handed it to Alice. ‘Cook says it’s good riddance to him, madam.’
‘Don’t be impertinent!’ Alice flapped her hand impatiently and the girl almost ran to the door. Alice smoothed out the creases of the paper and began to read.
‘Says here he drank himself to death and set fire to the house accidentally.’ Alice’s slim finger pointed to the page. ‘Oh dear, I knew Edward was in trouble with the bank but it seems my husband mounted up heavy gambling debts into the bargain. Doesn’t sound at all like the Edward I knew.’
‘They do exaggerate things though, don’t they?’ Rosie plumped up the pillows. ‘Rest now and you’ll be nice and fresh in time for tea.’
Alice flung down the paper. ‘It’s all so much rubbish!’ She rubbed her face wearily. ‘Stay for a while, talk to me, you are the only one who cares about me at all. You won’t leave me, will you, Rosie?’
‘No of course I won’t,’ Rosie said stoutly. ‘But please, try to sleep a little. I’m sure you’ll feel better after a rest.’
It was as if Alice had not heard her. ‘Edward would have been heir to my father’s money by law, you know,’ Alice said. ‘My father tied it all up as best he could but, eventually, the entire estate would have gone to my husband. Good thing he didn’t find that out before he . . . well.’ She smiled wryly. ‘If he’d known he was rich, he would never have died, I’m convinced of that.’
Rosie did not comment; she was not familiar with the law regarding such things. She would never possess wealth to any great degree so had never been interested in women’s rights.
Women had a place in the home, bringing up children, while the man went out to work. The right to rule over her own house was all a woman should want. Still, on reflection, perhaps it was wrong that the law gave a man the right to take his wife’s inheritance.
Alice sighed. ‘Had I given birth to a healthy son things might have been different. Father might have been able to leave his estate to his only male heir.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, it’s my money now and I can do as I like with it.’
Rosie could see that the thought gave Alice a great deal of satisfaction. She need never be dependent on any man for as long as she lived.
Rosie knew her own position in life was vastly different to Alice’s. Rosie would always have to work or else be kept by a man. Life could be so unfair sometimes.
It was as if Alice had read her thoughts. ‘I am going to put some money in trust for you, Rosie,’ she said. ‘I want to repay you for all the kindness you showed me when I had nothing but debts hanging around my neck.’
‘But . . .’ Rosie was about to protest and Alice held up her hand for silence. She smiled; her spirits seemed to have revived. ‘Don’t argue, it’s something I want to do. I know you and Watt haven’t exactly seen eye to eye and I don’t want you to be dependent on him.’
She hesitated. ‘I haven’t been a very nice person to live with, I know that, Rosie. I’ve been selfish and high-handed. My father reared me to despise the lower orders but knowing you changed all that.’
She shook her head sadly. ‘And being Edward’s wife has made me realize what it’s like to live a joyless, friendless life. Now stop going on at me to rest. Get me out of this bed and help me dress. I’m expecting an admirer to come calling, remember?’
Later, when Alice was satisfied with her appearance, Rosie helped her down the curving staircase and settled her in front of the fire in the drawing room.
‘Just in time, Rosie.’ Alice smiled as the front doorbell clanged, the sound echoing through the house. Rosie instinctively got to her feet. Alice waved her back into her chair.
‘You are not a servant now, Rosie, you are my companion, my chaperone.’ She giggled. ‘That’s rich, isn’t it, me who enjoyed all the sins of the flesh, having a chaperone. I’d say it’s just a little too late for that. But stay when my visitors arrive, won’t you? I like to appear to be a lady even if I’m a whore at heart.’
‘You must not be too hard on yourself,’ Rosie protested. ‘You make yourself out to be a bad person but really, deep down, you are just like the rest of us, looking for love.’
‘You understand me so well.’ Alice sighed. For a moment her face fell into lines of sadness. It was at such times that Rosie saw the real woman behind the laughing, flirtatious façade Alice presented to the world.
The door opened and suddenly the room seemed full of people. Rosie felt uncomfortable as the two gentlemen and their ladies seated themselves around the room, all of them ignoring Rosie in her drab calico gown and worn shawl.
Rosie recognized Lily though she was wearing fine clothes. She was the painter who had worked at the pottery with Rosie’s mother. Now she was clinging to the arm of an old man who was making every effort to untangle himself.
‘Matthew, how nice to see you!’ Alice was graciousness itself. No-one would suspect she had just risen from her sick bed. ‘And Jem Boucher too! You are most welcome.’ She paused. The pause lengthened. Rosie hid a smile; Alice could insult without opening her mouth. She was deliberately sizing up the two women, making it obvious she felt their social superior.
‘And your,’ she paused again, ‘your ladies are welcome too. I will ring for some refreshments, you will take tea with me and my companion here?’
It seemed to Rosie that hundreds of pairs of eyes stared at her, seeing her in a new light. Lily’s face was hostile; she had never liked Rosie’s mother and no doubt Lily was uncomfortable in Rosie’s presence, Rosie knew far too much about her past.
Alice was quite aware of the situation and not prepared to let matters rest. ‘Ah, Lily, you used to work at the pottery, didn’t you?’ she said. ‘And then for a time you came to me as a maid. Not a very good maid at that.’ She giggled. ‘Perhaps being mistress to a rich man suits you better?’
Lily stiffened. Her thoughts were written plain on her face: she had realized she was foolish to come here, to put herself in such a vulnerable position. Her friend leapt to her defence.
‘Lily is a fine painter,’ Polly said. ‘She’s even had drawings in some of the better papers.’
‘I know,’ Alice said. ‘I believe I was the subject of one such drawing. Do you enjoy ruining reputations, Lily?’
Rosie concealed a smile; Alice was at her best when she was fencing spiteful words with an adversary she did not like.
‘At least I am not tied to a man who should be in prison,’ Lily said huffily.
‘Neither am I.’ Alice’s tone was touched with ice. ‘It might have escaped your notice but my husband is dead, consumed by flames, hell’s flames in your opinion I take it? I thought the British judiciary deemed a man innocent until proven guilty.’
Lily had the grace to blush. Her remark had been tasteless in the e
xtreme. It was Matthew Starky who filled the sudden silence.
‘I’m so sorry about your sad loss. Your husband’s death so soon after the demise of your dear father must have hit you hard.’ He took Alice’s hand. ‘I’m sure we are all here to offer our deepest sympathy.’ He glared at Lily and she looked quickly away. Even Rosie could see that Lily’s days as a rich man’s darling were almost over.
Tea was served and Rosie settled herself in a corner seat, prepared to watch and listen. She had no intention of becoming part of the conversation; she was out of her depth with such people and knew it.
Rosie observed that the attention Matthew was paying to Alice was more than just friendly. He seemed genuinely interested in her but then, as Alice caustically put it, her inheritance would excite any man.
Alice flirted outrageously with Matthew, enjoying Lily’s dark glances. Alice had rouged her cheeks to give herself some colour and, animated as she was now, she was very beautiful.
Lily fidgeted; the girl was edgy, clearly aware that her hold on Matthew was wearing very thin. He had his sights set on a fresh conquest and she did not like it one bit.
It was growing dark by the time the visitors left. Alice sighed with relief and kicked her shoes off her feet, stretching her toes towards the cheerful fire.
‘Thank the good Lord for that!’ she said. ‘Did you see how that old goat Matthew was making eyes at me? He’s got more chance of winning you over than me and that’s saying something!’
‘You don’t like him then?’ Rosie asked. ‘I thought he was rather nice.’
‘He is nice.’ Alice chuckled. ‘But I don’t intend to marry him or anyone else. Why should I give my father’s fortune to any man? No, I’ll content myself with a lover or two, there will be no marriage for me. Would you marry again if you had your time over?’
‘Not to Watt, not as soon as I did, anyway. It was all a terrible mistake. I do love Watt but I’m not happy to always walk in the shadow of his first love.’
‘I’ve got something to confess.’ Alice looked across at Rosie. ‘I should have told you before, a letter came for you, from your husband.’