by Gloria Cook
He gazed at her in a searching way. ‘Think me sad, do you, Emilia?’
‘Sometimes you seem sad and lonely.’
‘Sometimes I am, but never when you’re near.’
‘I’m glad of that.’ Shy now, for their relationship seemed to be steering towards something different, an intimate level, one neither of them was pulling back from, she gave her attention to the next surge of breakers. ‘There’s some driftwood coming in.’
Alec waded into the water and retrieved a plank of painted timber; valuable firewood. ‘It hasn’t been in the sea long. See? No barnacles, no decay. I’m afraid it’s likely part of a blown-up ship.’
‘How terrible. There’s more.’ They gathered in all the tragic harvest, carrying the timber, much of it jagged, back from the tide line, working side by side in the same way as a few weeks ago when reaping and fetching in the crops from his fields.
‘Oh, what would your mother think of me, treating her clothes like this?’ she said, rubbing off debris with her wet gloves and picking out splinters from her fur-collared coat. ‘I suppose we must think about getting back.’
‘Yes, we must.’ He gentled away strands of hair that had escaped her hat. ‘In a minute.’
Long moments passed in which they gazed at each other.
* * *
‘Have you brought a gown to wear for dinner, Emilia? We don’t usually bother to change, but Great-Aunt Clarissa and I thought we’d make the effort as we have company.’ Having bid herself entrance into the room Emilia was sharing with Lottie, Winifred Stockley did not wait for an answer. ‘Come with me. I’ve just the thing for you. It’s the colour of claret with black lace over the bodice, and it will sit well on your figure. And of course it’s a special occasion.’
‘It is?’ Bewildered, wearing her negligée after taking a bath, Emilia followed her hostess – who had been amused at her bedraggled state from the beachcombing – to an impressive double room.
‘Tomorrow’s your birthday. Or had you forgotten? Alec mentioned it to me.’
‘I’ve not given it a thought this year,’ Emilia said doubtfully.
‘Oh, it will only be a quiet little affair. Just something to cheer us all up, and don’t you think we need it with so much sorrow in our hearts? The best way for us to stand firm at home is not to allow our spirits to be dragged down, don’t you agree?’ Winifred pointed to a gown hanging over the door of her wardrobe. Silk orchids of the same claret colour cascaded down over one shoulder strap. ‘Do you like it? I wore this on my honeymoon to New York.’
Emilia touched the stunning material. ‘Alec kindly gave me some of his mother’s clothes, but I’ve never dressed up in my life.’
‘Let’s get you ready then. You’ll enthrall him.’ Winifred tilted her head to one side. ‘You do want to, don’t you?’
Emilia ignored the meaning in Winifred’s question. She was suddenly afraid, because she did want Alec to notice her in a seductive feminine way, and it wasn’t right so soon after recent events, and certainly not wise. She must remember he was her employer. To become involved with him harked at all manner of risks. ‘The dress is gorgeous, but don’t you think the neckline’s too low? My mother would be horrified.’
‘Oh, Emilia, dear, how starved you are of feminine niceties. I think your mother would be proud of you. After tonight, as proud as she possibly could be.’
An hour later Emilia showed off her corseted, coiffured self to Lottie in the drawing room, where she was drinking sherry with Great-Aunt Clarissa. ‘Do you recognize me, Mrs Harvey? Look, I’ve even got a feather in my hair, and Mrs Stockley’s loaned me a pearl choker.’
‘Little bud, little bud.’ Lottie nodded her head, smiling at her widest and happiest. She no longer recognized her sister, but had enjoyed all the attention lavished on her throughout the day, and at once held out her hand to Emilia.
‘Who’s blossomed into a beautiful woman, Grandma.’
Emilia’s heart stopped, then began again at a furious rate.
While enduring Winifred’s titivations, many of which she had thought unnecessary, she had wondered every moment how Alec would find her. She turned to him in what she hoped was a graceful swing. Her heart thudded to a halt again. She had seen him in his dinner suit before, but she had never considered then if he made a handsome image. Now here he was, astonishingly good-looking, his smile full of masculine appeal and dangerous somehow. He seemed to be drinking her in. The exhilaration of viewing the sea was wildly outmatched by the sensations his attention was giving her.
‘It took me a ridiculously short time to turn your little mainstay into this stunning creature, Alec.’ Winifred appeared, sophisticated, demure, in a more up-to-date black gown. ‘But, of course, Emilia was lovely to begin with.’
‘I totally agree, Winnie.’ Alec kept his eyes on Emilia. ‘My dear, may I wish you a happy birthday for tomorrow? I’ve brought you a little present. I’ve shown it to Edwin and he’s agreed that you may have it.’
He held out a long narrow box. It could only contain jewellery. ‘I… thank you, Alec.’
Alec pressed the box into her hand. He kissed her cheek and then the other. He whispered, ‘For all you mean to me.’
‘Get a move on, Miss Rowse,’ Great-Aunt Clarissa drawled. She was apt to be undignified and boisterous, and was indeed a little inebriated. ‘Don’t keep us in suspense.’
Her hands fluttering in excitement. Emilia lifted off the lid. ‘Oh! Oh!’
‘How clever of you, Alec, to find something so exquisite. But you never do anything without the deepest thought, do you?’ Winifred was peering over his arm, at the delicately fashioned wristwatch nestling on a bed of red satin in Emilia’s hands. ‘I’m envious to the point of bursting.’
Emilia was staring at Alec. ‘It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen. I think I’m going to cry.’
‘The one thing we’re always battling against at the farm is time, Emilia,’ Alec said. ‘I thought I’d give you something to tell it by.’
‘I think you’d better escort her to a chair, Alec,’ Great-Aunt Clarissa observed. ‘The poor girl is quite overwhelmed.’
‘Emilia’s not the sort to get overwhelmed, Great-Aunt. She’s strong and wise and resourceful.’
‘Em looks overwhelmed to me.’ Jonathan skipped into the room with Vera Rose, to say goodnight.
Emilia felt Alec’s hand under her forearm and she was borne along to a sofa. She never took her eyes off him while he fastened the watch around her wrist, despite having Jonathan leaning over her lap. Alec was sitting close enough to touch her body. Emilia was sure her father had not realized the value of the watch, that it had diamonds set around the superb face.
‘It’s beautiful, but I’ll only wear it on special occasions.’
‘We’ll have lots of those,’ he whispered.
The children were put to bed, and after a meal of roast duck, the duck supplied by Alec, the adults returned to the drawing room. Great-Aunt Clarissa, who had downed a greedy amount of wine, thumped out a tune on the piano. The jolly melody was in keeping with the tone of the evening. Alec asked Winifred to dance with him. He laughed uproariously when he saw Emilia’s wry face. ‘What?’
‘I’ve never imagined you dancing before.’
‘Such a sober-sides, am I? Well, I’ll dance with you afterwards and see how many other misconceptions about me I can eliminate.’
On the sofa beside Lottie, who was waving her index fingers in time with the music, Emilia clapped her hands, laughing as Alec and Winifred whirled around the room to a polka. Then he was in front of her, bowing low, taking her to the middle of the carpet. One hand grazing the small of her back, the other warm and pressing around her fingers, he seemed to be holding her unnecessarily close as they spun out the same circuit again and again.
The wine was kept flowing. The company were invited to nibble on a box of exotic chocolates, which, to Alec’s query at how they were acquired, Winifred merely winked in reply.
Almost oblivious to the three ladies, Emilia gazed at her watch and gazed at Alec. He kept her exclusively in his sight.
At ten o’clock, Great-Aunt Clarissa announced she and Lottie should retire. ‘We’re done for, aren’t we, sister? Can’t expect any more from such old bones, but ye Gods, we’ve had a splendid evening.’
Emilia made to say a reluctant goodnight and take Lottie upstairs.
‘You stay were you are. I’ll put Grandma to bed, then I’ll retire to do a little reading,’ Winifred insisted, ringing for the maid for assistance. ‘You and Alec must stay down for at least another hour or two – it is your holiday. Before we go up, Alec, I want to make a suggestion about Grandma and Jonny. You have so much to do at home, why not let them come to us? Grandma’s equally as comfortable with me as she is with Emilia, and Jonny would be company for Vera Rose.’
Before Alec could answer, Emilia blurted out, ‘No, please don’t take Mrs Harvey away from us. She’s no trouble to me, I enjoy looking after her. And Jon—’ Emilia dropped her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve spoken out of turn. I beg your forgiveness.’
‘Emilia’s right.’ Alec, who was close beside her, made a dismissive motion with his hand. ‘We wouldn’t dream of relinquishing either of them. They both belong at the farm, in Jonny’s case, until Tris is home for good.’
Winifred surveyed the couple and nodded. ‘I understand. Goodnight to you both.’
‘I’ve got a big mouth,’ Emilia said when they were alone. ‘I hope I didn’t offend Mrs Stockley and your great-aunt, they’ve been so kind to me.’
Alec was looking at her mouth as if he had a warm opinion of it. ‘My lovely outspoken angel, of course they’re not offended. Winnie thinks you’re quite perfect and if Great-Aunt Clarissa didn’t like you she’d simply say so.’
‘Do you know, I think you’d let me get away with anything.’
‘And why not? What shall we do now?’
‘Well, I know it sounds silly, but we’ve got to leave here first thing tomorrow and won’t get a chance to look at the sea again, and as I’ve drunk too much wine, could we take a breath of fresh air?’
‘Excellent idea. We’ll wrap up and walk to the end of the garden.’
The war conditions forbade use of lights after dark and an indifferent moon was casting a lacklustre path of silver all the way to the horizon, but neither needed an excuse to aid the other’s wary steps by linking arms in the darkness. They listened to the steady roll of the ocean for long silent minutes. When they were rocked on their feet by a sudden blast of the bitingly cold wind, Alec suggested they shelter in the summerhouse.
‘Emilia?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve got something else to give you for your birthday.’ His voice was suddenly grave and she tried to read his expression in the meagre light of the moon. He placed a piece of paper into her hand. ‘Edwin asked me to pass this on to you. It arrived a few days ago. He didn’t have the heart to do it himself.’
‘Is it from Billy?’ Seeing him so recently made tears of wonder rather than grief well up in her heart.
‘Yes, it is. You can read it by the light of my cigarette lighter.’
Sharing the padded seat of a garden bench, he held her in a comforting embrace. Wanting Alec to share this with her, she unfolded the last message her brother had written to her, and read aloud. ‘My dear Em, I’m writing this birthday greeting early, to make sure you get it on time. I wish I could be there to see you become a woman and I wish I could give you a little something, but here’s my blessing for you, dear one. Be happy in all things, in all ways. Until my next letter, or,’ she faltered, ‘or until we meet again. Your loving brother, Billy.’ Billy had chosen to appear to her on the day before her birthday. Had he known it was going to be a special time?
Alec was stroking her neck. ‘Try not be too sad, Emilia, darling.’
‘I’m not. It’s something to treasure, Billy’s gift to me. It sounded as if he knew he was going to die, Alec.’
‘He couldn’t have known for certain, except that he loved you and wanted to wish you all the happiness you deserve.’
She kissed the letter, folded the paper and dried her eyes. She knew from a letter of Tristan’s that Billy had received her letter about hers and Ben’s courtship. Billy had thought her happiness was going to be with Ben. Or had he known it was to be with someone else?
Alec closed the lighter and they were in the enveloping warmth of almost total darkness. ‘Do you want to go in?’
She rested her head against his shoulder. ‘I wish we could stay like this for ever.’
‘We could stay together for ever.’ He lifted her face to his. ‘Do you want to?’
‘Yes, I think I want to.’ She sought the lips she knew were questing hers in the darkness. The contact was delicious, exquisite beyond measure and she let out a terrific inner sigh.
Alec kissed her softly, hardly able to contain his elation at her response to his question. The day had gone better than his hopes, he thinking he might only have made a tentative approach to her. Whatever the reasons were for Emilia seeming to want him as much as he wanted her, he did not care. Pray God, she would have no regrets in the morning.
Emilia liked the feel of his mouth, the tender way he was gliding it over hers, slowly at first, then pressing harder, searching, probing. This was different to what she was used to. It was a deep, shocking kiss, and the knowledge that he was fully experienced in the ways of making love excited her, made her eager for him in a way that surpassed all previous desires.
She pulled off her hat, pressed into him and took his mouth again. She became urgent and awkward. ‘Hush now,’ he whispered. ‘Leave this to me.’
He threw the padded cushions down on the tiled floor and spread his overcoat over them. Lying there in his arms, she sank into the pleasures of his many and varied kisses, his devastating gentleness and finely discriminating overtures, until at exactly the right moment, he made the move that enabled her to do every blissful thing to him that he was doing to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Honor went to Ford Farm that same day to get away from Florence. Her aunt’s anxiety was making her snap and complain about everything. She was hoping Ben would be in the yard. He was, mucking out the horses.
His hardy limbs moving in liquid, subconscious motion, he was making short work with the shovel. He was lost in thought, obviously far from the stables, perhaps imagining he was fighting on some foreign field, taking part in a great victory for hearth and homeland. No, that wasn’t it. He was smiling round the eyes, enjoying his reflection, his handsome face straight, not incited and intense. He paused before making the journey with the wheelbarrow to the dung heap. There was definitely a passion of some kind going on inside his head and he was either enjoying a replay or the prospect of it. Had he taken up with a new woman? She hoped not.
From the comer of his good eye he saw her. A melody of tenderness and concord. A warmness flooded his heart. He cherished the way Honor made him feel good about himself. He liked the uninterrupted adoration she paid him. This lovely, harmless girl, who had commiserated with him over the loss of his sight, over all he had lost, even Emilia, as soon as she’d been given the chance. He hadn’t wanted to talk about Emilia. Honor had respected that.
He came to stand at a small distance from her – there’d be a ripe smell on him. ‘You’re always a welcome sight, Honor.’
‘I fancied some company, even though Em isn’t here. Aren’t you missing her, just a tiny bit, Ben? I miss us all being friends.’
‘I’m afraid we can never go back to how things were.’
She silently implored him to reconsider. Saw it was hopeless. Nevertheless, gave him an encouraging smile. ‘I know.’ ‘I wish I had time to take a walk with you but I’m afraid I’ve got lots to do today. Go in and talk to Tilda. Mrs Rowse has gone on to the rectory and she’s lost with just Edwin and Archie about the place.’
‘Well, I’ll do that then
. Let you get on.’ Honor disguised her disappointment with false enthusiasm. She would like to have spent a few minutes more with Ben, for old times’ sake.
Ben sensed her loneliness and searched through his day’s schedule. Sadly, there wasn’t another second he could spare, he had an important appointment in Truro immediately after this. ‘We should get together sometime, Honor. Meet up for afternoon tea in town; let’s make it soon. After all, you’re my friend as much as Emilia’s, and despite everything, she’d not see it as disloyalty on your part.’
‘I’d really like that, Ben. And no, Em wouldn’t.’
Having something to look forward to at last, Honor slipped away to the kitchen. Tilda, who had embarked on an extra-large baking session in the strangely quiet room, was pleased to see her. Honor talked her into letting her tackle the overflowing laundry basket, and a contented, industrious morning was spent at either end of the vast table.
Honor’s hands were aching when she relinquished the heavy hot irons to go home for lunch, but she was satisfied that her efforts had meant less drudgery for Tilda. Putting her coat, hat and gloves on, she thought about how, much earlier, Ben had charged through the house, had taken a bath, before bidding her and Tilda a swift goodbye and going out by the front door. He’d looked so gorgeous in his suit and smelled so divine, the only explanation could be that he was off to see a woman. This, and the dismal thought of facing the miseries of Aunt Florence, made the lowering sky look all the more sullen.
To save Tilda the trouble, she braved the yard again to deposit a shirt of Archie Rothwell’s in the hay house. She looked around. Where was his bed? It had been made up in a draught-proof spot, an old mattress and blankets on bales of hay. She’d have to go back and ask where the secretive casual labourer was sleeping now. Then she saw the mattress was rolled up and tied with string, standing in a corner.
There was the scurry of violent movement. A rat shot into view, followed hotly by Pip, barking loudly. The dog caught the rat in its jaws and with a rapid twist broke its neck. Honor shrieked and leapt back. Pip let the rat plunge to the dusty ground. ‘Take it outside! Go on, you dreadful little dog.’