by Iris Gower
Fon bit her lip. It seemed a hare-brained, dangerous scheme, but, as Arian had pointed out, they had little alternative. She was quite sure Jamie would have instigated a search by now, but in all probability no-one would come looking for her in the empty farmhouse adjoining her own land.
‘We must give it a try,’ Arian urged. ‘It’s the only way, I promise you.’ She sighed heavily. ‘With two of them together, I don’t think we’d stand a chance; Mike’s too afraid of Price to defy him openly.’
The two women fell silent, both of them contemplating the coming ordeal. It was growing dark, and Fon, tired to the bone, felt her eyelids begin to droop.
She was awakened by the door being swung roughly open. She sat bolt upright, blinded by the light held high above the man’s head. For one crazy moment, she thought Jamie had come to find her, and then Price Davies spoke.
‘Well, my sweet little bitch.’ He stood in front of the chair where Arian was tied, his legs astride, the lantern held high. ‘I’ve sewn you up good and proper. I’ve got your job, the job I should have had from the beginning.’ He sniggered. ‘I spun the yarn that you’ve run off with a man. Your precious boss has lost faith in you, so the job is mine – mine for good.’
Arian stared up at him, her face unreadable. ‘Well, perhaps you did deserve the job, no-one can question your expertise with leather,’ she said in a deliberately subdued voice.
‘You said it, woman,’ Price answered boastfully. ‘I think that our boss has recognized that at last.’
Fon, watching, saw Mike enter the farmhouse and close the door carefully behind him.
‘Watch that light, Price,’ he warned. ‘We don’t want anyone coming up here, do we?’
‘Pull the curtains, man,’ Price replied shortly. ‘I’m not going to spend the night in the dark.’
He held the lantern up and looked from one woman to the other consideringly.
‘Now which one of you beauties shall I take to my bed?’ he said speculatively.
Fon shrank against the chair, her scalp prickling with fear. She couldn’t bear it if this man so much as touched her again.
‘I shan’t let you take advantage of me again,’ Arian said quickly. ‘You did it once, but you won’t do it again. You’re not man enough for me, don’t you understand that yet?’
‘Who says?’ Price hovered over her menacingly. ‘If I want you I shall have you; I’ll show you how much of a man I am.’
‘No,’ Arian said, ‘you won’t make me do what you want a second time. You don’t know how to show a girl a really good time – you are inadequate, incapable of satisfying me.’
Fon saw Mike put his hand over his mouth to conceal his coarse laugh; but he shut up abruptly when Price turned venomous eyes on him.
‘Untie her,’ he commanded, pointing to Arian. ‘I’ll show this piece of baggage what respect for a man is all about. By morning I’ll have her broken, or I’ll know the reason why.’
As Mike bent down beside Arian’s chair, he spoke to her softly. ‘It’s only a little bit of fun, it won’t hurt you, will it, you not being chaste-like.’
‘Shut up,’ Price said, and seized Arian’s wrists. She struggled, kicking out at him, and Fon, watching in horror, marvelled at the girl’s courage and tenacity.
Price twisted both Arian’s hands behind her back and held her wrists between his big fingers. With his other hand, he caught the front of her bodice and tore it downwards.
Fon looked away in fear and pity for what Arian was going to endure. She knew, with a sudden, sickening surety, that if she couldn’t convince Mike the Spud that she must be released, she would be in for the same fate.
‘Good night, folks.’ Price smiled his charming smile and dragged Arian towards the bedroom. ‘Sleep tight.’ He looked back at Fon. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart, you won’t be neglected. You shall have your turn, all in good time.’
The bedroom door slammed. There was the sound of a vicious slap; Arian screamed, and then there was nothing but an ominous silence.
Fon closed her eyes. She wanted to scream; she was living in a nightmare and she didn’t know if she would ever wake up from it. ‘Arian,’ she whispered, ‘oh, Arian! What is going to become of us both?’
Eline left the park aware that it had grown dark. She hurried, knowing that Calvin would be worried about her; indeed, she was surprised he had not come looking for her already.
The baby was heavy in her arms, and Eline felt the dampness of tears against her cheek. Will, poor darling Will, he’d been so hurt she would probably never see him again. She had burnt her boats now, where he was concerned.
She had hated telling him she must stay with Calvin; it had hurt, the pain had gone deep, and her words of farewell had been spoken in despair.
But she owed Calvin a great deal. He was kind and considerate, he loved her and adored the child he believed was his; how could she tell him the truth now? It was too late for that, far too late.
She reached the gates of the manor with a sigh of relief. Her whole body seemed to ache and her legs were trembling; she realized she was not recovered yet from the birth of her son.
The lights in the porch were ablaze, and, to her surprise, the carriage was outside the door, the driver standing at the head of the animals as though ready to make a journey. Could Calvin be going away on business?
The front door resisted her efforts to push it open, and, impatiently, Eline rang the bell.
Behind her, the coachman coughed.
‘Beggin’ your pardon, my lady, I’ve had my instructions to take you to a lodging house in the town,’ he said slowly, and she heard pity in his voice.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked. ‘Where’s my husband?’ She felt a sense of unease grip her. ‘Lord Temple hasn’t been taken sick, has he?’
The man held out a long envelope and Eline opened it quickly, holding it under the lamp hanging above the porch, straining her eyes to read the scribbled message. It was short and to the point.
It became only too clear as she read the note that Calvin had seen her with Will in the park, had heard some of her conversation, had gathered the truth about the child he had called his own son.
Calvin stated in no uncertain terms that he would have nothing more to do with her; he would divorce her, in spite of the scandal it would cause, and he never wanted to see her again.
Wearily, Eline climbed up into the coach and nodded to the driver. ‘Let’s be on our way,’ she said softly, and the tears that came to her eyes were for the kind man she had called her husband, the man she so badly betrayed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Arian wakened, consciousness returning slowly, and she stared in bewilderment at the bedroom that had once been hers. It was as though time had lost its meaning and she was still a child, living here under the protection of her parents.
Once, a long time ago, she had been happy here, happy to ride free across the wild grasslands, happy to share her life with her father. But that was before he began drinking heavily and slapping her every time she displeased him. At those times, Bob Smale had been a monster, a man she didn’t know; and now he was dead and she was being held prisoner in what was once a safe haven.
And now it was another man who had hurt her. Price Davies had used her, for several nights had forced her to share his bed. In that moment, Arian hated Price Davies more than she had ever hated anyone.
She turned her eyes cautiously towards the pillow beside her. It was empty, and relief swamped her, so that Arian felt faint and weak. She lay for a moment gathering her strength before sitting up. Under the tangle of bedclothes, she was naked, her body marked with bruises. She shuddered.
She tensed as she heard the latch of the door being lifted and then she eased herself back against the pillows, closing her eyes in feigned sleep.
She heard a coarse laugh. ‘Let her sleep it off.’ It was Price’s voice. ‘She’ll give you no trouble today, Mike, I’ve taken all the spirit out of the bitch.’
Anger brought tears to Arian’s eyes, but she forced herself to remain still. She heard Mike’s voice, a little truculent as he rebuked Price Davies in an uncharacteristic mood of rebellion.
‘I hope you are not being cruel to the girl. She’s my brother’s child after all, mind,’ he said. Arian felt a small flame of warmth, her uncle had some humanity left then.
The hostility in Price Davies’s voice brought chills to her spine. ‘She had it coming; took my job from under my nose, didn’t she? Well, what I’ve done to her is not punishment,’ he said crudely, ‘it’s more like pleasure, I’d say.
‘I’m going to work now, so watch her! Watch both of them; we can’t have them slipping the net, not now. Things have gone too far for that. I can’t be here all the time. I don’t want to lose my job, not after all I’ve done to get it back.’
Arian lay still for a long time. She could imagine how Price would have blackened her name with Eline Temple. She shuddered; but he would pay for what he’d done, oh, yes, he would pay, one way or another.
She remained quiet until she heard the outer door of the farmhouse closing. Then she breathed more easily, knowing that Price had left for work.
She roused herself to climb painfully from the bed and, looking round, realized that Price had removed her clothes from the bedroom; he was taking no chances.
Arian strode into the kitchen and, ignoring Mike’s gaping mouth and shocked eyes, pulled on her clothes. She flashed Fon a look begging her silently not to move or speak.
‘Duw, girl, he’s beat you bad. There’s a bastard the man is,’ Mike said angrily.
Arian pulled on her shoes while Mike looked at her helplessly. ‘I’m going to wash,’ she said coldly. ‘I feel dirty after sleeping with that pig.’
She opened the door to the back yard and was outside in the cold clearness of the day before Mike had time to gather his thoughts.
Her spine tingled as she climbed over the fence and quickly hurried across the fields, wondering if Mike would come after her. She knew every inch of the farmlands where she had lived and, provided Mike did nothing to stop her, it would be an easy task to make her way to Honey’s Farm and find help before it was too late.
There had been no possibility of freeing Fon; she would have to hope the girl would be safe until she returned. Mike the Spud, rough though he might be, was not the animal that Price Davies was; but neither could he protect the woman once Price had made up his mind to do his worst.
She stared across at the open lands beyond the trees and knew that stretch could be clearly seen from the front of the house. She would just have to take her chances that Mike would be otherwise occupied and wouldn’t notice she was taking a long time over her supposed wash outside at the pump.
She took a deep breath and braced herself to run across the clearing, looking ahead to where the fields sloped away from the farmhouse. Once there, she would be hidden from sight; and from there on, it was only a matter of a few miles to Honey’s Farm and safety.
She was almost clear of the open stretch of land when, with a suddenness that made her cry out, cruel arms caught and held her and her hair was grasped in a painful hold.
‘Thought you could put one over on me, did you?’ Price rasped into her face. His eyes were blazing, and in that moment Arian knew with a sickening certainty that he was not quite sane.
‘I turned back for my tools,’ he said, smiling unpleasantly, ‘and I watched you leave the farmhouse, bold as brass.’
He laughed and tugged at her hair, forcing her head backwards. ‘You have to get up very early to catch me out, madam.’
He slapped her face and then dragged her back across the ground, not caring that cruel stones dug into her flesh or that her body ached from the beating he’d given her. It was almost a relief when they reached the farmhouse door and he flung it open, throwing her inside.
She fell on to the stone floor, her hair falling over her face, her breathing laboured. She heard Fon gasp with shock and looking up saw the horror in the girl’s eyes.
‘Tie her up,’ Price growled at Mike. ‘Or do I have to do everything round here?’ He stood menacingly before Mike, and the man cringed.
‘I didn’t know she’d gone,’ he lied. ‘I was busy clearing the place up.’
‘Shut your mouth, you stupid oaf!’ Price said fiercely. ‘And hurry up and get that note over to Honey’s Farm. Leave it where that blasted Irishman can find it for sure this time, do you hear? If you fail, it will be the worse for you.’
He left then, slamming the door shut, his feet crunching the hard ground and fading away into silence.
‘Poor girl.’ Mike helped Arian to her feet. ‘Not even your daddy beat you this bad; you don’t deserve this.’
‘Look, Mike,’ Arian said, ‘he means to kill us. You’ve got to let us go before it’s too late.’
Mike was staring at her, his hands hanging to his sides, a hopeless look in his eyes. ‘I can’t let you go again, girl, he’d kill me for sure. He won’t go that far with you two; he wants to get money for this one.’ He gestured towards where Fon was sitting.
‘And what about me?’ Arian asked. ‘I’m no use to him now; he’s got what he wanted, my job at the workshop and my total humiliation. I’m no further use to him now, you must see that.’
‘He’ll just let you go’ – Mike was almost pleading – ‘you’ll be in disgrace with your boss, and that will be that.’
Mike’s eyes flickered away from Arian’s direct gaze. ‘You’ll soon find another job, girl.’
‘Don’t be silly, Mike!’ Arian’s voice was sharper than she’d intended. ‘Price can’t afford to let us go. We’ll talk, tell everyone what he’s done. He’ll be the one who’s disgraced.’
She saw at once that she had made a mistake. A stubborn look came over Mike’s face, and his eyes had a closed look that she recognized from the old days, when she used to plead with him to help her father. He hadn’t wanted the responsibility of being involved then, and he certainly wasn’t going to go against his own interests now.
‘I’ll have to tie you up again, girl. Sorry I am but there’s nothing else for it.’
Mike pushed her into a chair and twisted the rope around her body. Arian, for a moment, felt like weeping, her pain and the humiliation of the last few nights had been nothing but a useless ordeal. She had not escaped as she’d hoped; she was back where she had started.
‘I’m going out for a while,’ Mike said. ‘Don’t try to get away, right?’
He left them, and the sound of his footsteps could be heard fading into the distance.
‘Are you all right?’ Fon’s voice trembled, and Arian attempted to smile.
‘Aye, I’ll live,’ she said ruefully. ‘But I didn’t do us much good by running away, did I?’
‘You look awful,’ Fon said, and the sympathy in her voice brought fresh tears to Arian’s eyes.
‘Well, thank you kindly.’ She forced a dry note into her voice. ‘I’ve known times when I’ve felt better, mind.’
‘Oh, God,’ Fon said softly, ‘is he going to do that to me when he comes back tonight?’
It was a fair bet, Arian thought; but she forced herself to speak reassuringly.
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ she said. ‘You know he’s afraid of your husband; I imagine he’ll treat you with a bit more respect than he’s treated me.’
‘Aye, we might be safe until Jamie gets this note they were on about,’ Fon agreed. ‘But once they get the money, if Jamie will give them any, what then?’
Arian shrugged. She didn’t have to think very hard to make a good guess, but she wasn’t going to reiterate her fears and make Fon feel as hopeless as she did now.
She stared towards the light from the window. The clouds were lifting now, promising a fine, if cold, day. Arian tried to draw hope from the lightening skies, and yet she knew within her heart that there was very little real hope, either for Fon O’Conner or herself.
Jamie was cooking
the breakfast for his son and the little girl, both children looking up at him with large eyes.
‘Is Fonny coming home soon?’ April asked timidly, for she was half-afraid of the stern-faced man Jamie had become within the last few days.
Jamie was forced to think of a reply. ‘We’ll see.’ He knew his voice was hard, but the pain bit deep, and anger was making him feel sick and helpless.
The door opened and Tommy came into the kitchen, smelling of the fields.
‘Duw, it’s been a funny morning.’ Tommy took off his boots and left them near the door, padding across the cold slate on feet encased in two pairs of thick socks.
‘Funny?’ Jamie didn’t think anything was funny, not since Fon had disappeared; the dull sense of anger burned in him, giving him no rest. But he had waited, knowing that sooner or later a sign would come from the men who had taken his wife.
‘Aye,’ Tommy said, scraping his chair against the floor in an effort to draw nearer to the table. ‘I saw that Arian Smale, you know, the girl with the silver hair? Flitting across the fields up top there she was, like a ghost. Then I got distracted, and when I looked away there was no sign of her.’
Jamie contained his impatience, waiting for Tommy to get to the point.
‘And then I found this note pinned to my coat. She must have put it there.’
‘Note?’ Jamie’s tone was sharp. ‘What does it say?’ He put down the skillet with the sizzling bacon in it and gave Tommy his full attention.
‘I haven’t read it, boss,’ Tommy said. ‘You know I’m not so good at letters, but I could see it’s got your name on it, so I came back to the farmhouse. I thought it might be important.’
Jamie took the note and tore it open. It contained only a few lines, blunt and to the point, asking Jamie for money in return for his wife.
‘I’m to leave a hundred guineas in a bag,’ he said, slumping into a chair. ‘As if I could raise a hundred guineas just like that.’
‘But, boss, you’ll have to get it if the missis is to be allowed to come home,’ Tommy said, with an unshakeable faith in Jamie’s abilities.