‘Yes,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘But that is different.’
‘Why?’
‘Because, well...’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Well, for one thing, I don’t have a good heart or a kind nature. I’m a soldier, Daisy. A hard heart, that is, the ability to plan and execute orders without sentiment getting in the way, is part of what has made me a good officer...’
‘And yet now you are thinking about employing former soldiers. Ben, that isn’t the behaviour of a man with a hard heart. That is the behaviour of a caring, compassionate man...’
‘Employing former soldiers was your idea,’ he argued.
‘No, it wasn’t. It was yours, wasn’t it? You talked about contacting the regiment first...and you didn’t even insist on only employing men you could get your money’s worth out of.’
‘But—’
She saw that she wasn’t going to argue him out of his low opinion of himself. She was just going to have to show him how he made her feel. So she pressed her mouth to his. Licked at his lips, the way he’d already taught her he liked. And, just as she’d hoped, his reaction to her move was swift and powerful. He put his arms round her and took the kiss to another, deeper, more heated level.
It was as if he needed to drink her in. As if he needed to grab at her, at what she’d said, before it slipped through his fingers. So she didn’t protest, or remind him that this was Sunday and they were out of doors. Besides, when he began to lower her to the ground, her knees were so weak, her heart was beating so fast that she didn’t want to stop him. She just wanted to revel in the moment. Leap into the flames with him.
This...this thing that blazed between them was an elemental, living thing, she thought as he came down on top of her. The need of a male for a female. The need of a female for a male. No...more than that, it was not just nature having its way to perpetuate the species. It was the cry of two lonely souls needing love for what they were as themselves, with every fault laid bare to the other, and to know they were still accepted. Cherished.
No longer alone.
The bliss Ben brought her soon drove all other thoughts away. She was a mass of sensation, of feeling. Of ecstasy.
Even when it was over, and they lay there in the long grass, panting and running their hands over each other as though each had to be sure that the other was still there, she knew that the effect would linger. Not just as a pleasant, rather naughty memory but as a knowledge that this pleasure would always be there for them to enjoy whenever they wished.
‘Daisy,’ he murmured into her neck. ‘I should not have... In a field. After church. I...’
She hugged him fiercely. ‘It was wonderful. And...out here, in the open, it makes me see that it is one of God’s greatest gifts to mankind. This joy. This pleasure. And not just for our bodies but for our...yes, our souls. When you need me so much that you throw caution and propriety to the winds, it makes me feel...’
‘Loved,’ he said. ‘You are loved, Daisy.’ He turned his head to kiss her cheek. ‘I love you.’
For the first time in her life she believed it. A man like Ben, normally so...controlled, so...undemonstrative, couldn’t fling a woman down into a field and make love to her like he just had done unless he was driven by extremely powerful emotions. It took something extraordinarily powerful to crack through that façade of reserve of cynicism behind which he habitually hid. She stretched her arms above her head, feeling...irresistible.
‘Here, let me tidy you...’ he said, getting to his knees and pulling her up. ‘We don’t want everyone knowing what has made us late back from church.’
He began to brush at her skirts to remove twigs and stalks of crushed grass. Went off to search for his hat, and her bonnet.
She eyed him with amusement when he brought them over.
‘You have grass stains on your knees,’ she said, pointing. ‘And I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if I didn’t have some on my, er, behind, too. I don’t think anyone is going to be in any doubt as to why we will be getting back so much later than the others.’
He flushed red. ‘I am so sorry. I would rather cut off my hand than expose you to embarrassment.’
‘I won’t be embarrassed,’ she said, even though she wasn’t sure that was totally true. ‘You are my husband. We are just newly wed. It is...natural that we... That is, it is a good thing that we are so...keen on each other that we cannot walk from church to our home without... That is...’ She broke off into a peal of giggles. ‘Oh, dear. You are correct. It will be a touch embarrassing. But it is also very flattering to me to know that I am so irresistible that you cannot behave yourself when you are alone with me. Especially after the way we started out. I think,’ she said, with a glow of something that felt like hope welling up within, ‘that we are going to make a success of our marriage after all.’
* * *
For the next few days, Daisy kept on feeling the same way. Ben took her to heaven every night and took every chance he could to snatch kisses and cuddles during the day, when he was certain nobody else could see them. He didn’t seem anywhere near as closed up and grim looking as usual either. Once or twice she even saw the ghost of what looked like a smile hovering about his mouth.
And he kept saying the most flattering things. It was as if, now he’d admitted he loved her, he felt free to say things he’d kept hidden for years. Or perhaps it was relief that after he’d confessed what he’d felt was his deepest, darkest secret she hadn’t pushed him away but had instead taken his side.
One afternoon he surprised her in the barn, just after Vale and Wilmot had brought in a rather dilapidated sofa, which looked as though chickens had been roosting on it.
‘You cannot seriously mean to bring that atrocity back into the house,’ said Ben, startling her, because she hadn’t known he’d been there She turned, pushing a stray wisp of hair back under the protective scarf she’d taken to wearing when dealing with whatever finds came in from the orchard.
‘It won’t be an atrocity by the time I’ve finished with it,’ she told him. ‘Once I’ve had it re-upholstered and cleaned up, it will look as good as new, I promise you. Mother was always re-upholstering chairs and hanging new curtains to keep the whole of the Priory looking smart. It is amazing what a few yards of good material will do. It won’t be long before we can show visitors into a room that would not disgrace any drawing room in the land,’ she told him with pride.
He tipped his head to one side as he took another look at the sofa and the set of chairs that she’d told Vale to group near it so that she could see if she could turn them into a matching set.
‘I can see you sitting on that,’ he said, darting her an admiring look, ‘once it is covered with a blue silk, to match your eyes. Any room would look...stunning with such a tableau...’
‘Not silk, silly,’ she said, swatting at him with the duster she had in her hand at the time. ‘That wouldn’t be at all practical. We will need something hard-wearing.’
‘But something that will set off your beauty, too,’ he said, with mock severity. ‘That’s an order.’
‘Naturally,’ she replied with a toss of her head. ‘I shall hang the walls with silk, of a shade that will make me look like the jewel in your crown and have all your neighbours turning green with envy at what I have accomplished. Before you know it, this place will be the most elegant, fashionable dwelling in the county.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ he said wryly, before melting away on business of his own, no doubt. He always seemed to be busy. Well, he was. There was so much to do to get the estates profitable again. While she was equally busy transforming this sad, neglected house into a magnificent yet comfortable home.
Later that night, she was smiling as she brushed out her hair before going to bed. She’d never been so happy. Not just in her life now but in what she could picture of her future. With Ben.
As she laid h
er hairbrush down on the dresser, she caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. He was standing in the doorway, watching her, his face twisted in an expression of hunger, tinged with sadness.
She whirled round. But by the time she was looking at him, rather than his reflection, he’d wiped all expression from his features. But she felt the cold hand of foreboding squeezing at her heart.
‘Ben, what is it? What has happened?’
‘Nothing,’ he said, his eyes shifting from hers.
‘Ben.’ She got up and walked across the room to where he stood. ‘Don’t lie to me. I can see that something is troubling you. Tell me. We can deal with it.’ She caught at his hand. ‘Together we can deal with anything.’
He lowered his head. Took a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything tonight. But perhaps you are right. Perhaps it is best to get it out in the open.’ He lifted his head and gazed at her mournfully.
Her heart began to beat hard. Whatever he had to tell her, it looked as though it was tearing him apart.
‘I had hoped we could have one last night together, without...’
‘Last night? What are you talking about? It sounds as though you are going to leave...’
He winced. ‘I am.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘What?’ She dropped his hand. ‘I don’t believe this.’ But in a way she did. She’d always known he couldn’t possibly love her the way he said he did. Nobody could. ‘I was beginning to believe that you love me,’ she said bitterly.
‘I do, Daisy, I do,’ he said, taking hold of both her hands and squeezing them as though to show he meant it. ‘That is why we must bid each other farewell.’
She snatched her hands away. Wrapped her arms round her waist. Bit her tongue because she thought she ought to just listen to his excuses before ripping up at him, telling him what she thought of men who would say just about anything to keep a woman sweet-tempered and willing.
Oh, why had she started to believe he was different from other males? That he was honest and kind, and...and noble. She’d done it again, hadn’t she? Imagined motives for the way he behaved that fitted her notions of how she wanted him to feel. Instead of seeking out the truth.
Well, the only way she’d learn the truth would be if he spelled it out to her. Because she couldn’t make any sense of what he was saying. If he loved her, why on earth would he leave?
‘I think,’ she said shakily, ‘you had better explain. And you had better have a jolly good excuse for running off and leaving me after spending this last week or so making me believe...’
But she might have known he didn’t really love her. Nobody else ever had. Ben had claimed he’d loved her since they’d both been in their teens, but that had been before he’d really got to know her. When he’d been dazzled by the exterior that all men agreed was attractive to the eye. Before he’d seen that as a person she was silly, and selfish, and had a temper...
And, yes, he might find her physically attractive, but, then, men did find women irresistible, until they’d had them, didn’t they? Father was always telling her brothers to beware of such affairs. To wait until the attraction wore off, as it was bound to do, so that they wouldn’t get mired in sin and sickness. Oh, dear. But this was going to the other extreme. Believing his motives were evil. And they weren’t. They couldn’t be. Ben wasn’t a villain. A complicated, troubled man, yes, but not a villain.
‘I had a letter from my commanding officer,’ he said bleakly. ‘He wants me back. You know that Bonaparte has marched through France, gathering support along the way, and that the Allies are banding together to try to stop him. Or perhaps you don’t but, anyway, my regiment needs me. And...’ He trailed off, spreading his hands wide.
‘And you want to return to your regiment,’ she finished for him, feeling as if he’d punched her in the stomach. ‘You said so, right at the start. You warned me you were going to leave. I just...’ She groped for something to sit down on as her legs turned the consistency of blancmange. ‘I thought you’d changed your mind.’
‘I... I did. I have.’ He strode to the window, running his fingers through his hair. Then whirled back to look at her. ‘But I had already written by then. I wrote the very day I told you I planned to return. When I thought we had no chance of making a go of it. When you weren’t even talking to me, let alone permitting me to share your bed. And then, when you caught me with Miss Fairfax, I thought, I really thought, that was it. It was over.’
‘You wrote...that day?’ Before they’d come to this...understanding. This place of...togetherness.
She clutched at the bedpost. ‘I... I see. Well, that makes sense, I suppose. That you wrote then, that is, but...’ She frowned. ‘Why does it have to be farewell, though?’
‘Well, obviously, you can’t come with me,’ he said impatiently.
‘It isn’t obvious to me.’ Unless he really did want to leave.
‘Daisy, as your husband, I am supposed to look after you. And taking you abroad, into a situation that is unstable, possibly even dangerous, would be foolhardy in the extreme.’
‘Foolhardy?’ Oh, so he didn’t think she was sensible enough to cope with life as an officer’s wife. Because she was foolish.
‘Yes, Daisy, foolhardy. I would never be certain that I could keep you safe, let alone housed in the kind of conditions you are used to. That you deserve. Bringing you here, to all this...mess,’ he said, waving his arm around the room, although he probably meant the rest of the house and the estate, rather than just this one rather shabby bedchamber, ‘was bad enough. But to take you to the theatre of war?’ He shook his head. ‘I cannot do it.’
‘You...you don’t think I could cope with living in billets? Is that what you are saying? Ben, I am not some hothouse flower. I am not a marguerite. My brothers started calling me Daisy because I am like a weed. I can thrive in the poorest of soil...’
‘But you will be happier here. You said so yourself. That you are going to enjoy transforming the place and making it into a showpiece that will become the envy of every other family of note in the county. That you have found a purpose for the first time in your life. I cannot drag you away from all this...’
‘I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if that wasn’t the reasoning that your father used when he abandoned your mother,’ she said bitterly. ‘That it was for her own good. And look what happened as a result.’
‘Ah, but you are not like that, Daisy,’ he said with a tender smile. ‘It is not in your nature to take your vows lightly. Besides, I happen to know that although I look like a frog, you consider all other men to be toads. I don’t believe any of them will even tempt you to yield, no matter how hard they might try.’
He was certainly right about that. The thought of even kissing Hairy Horace or Wooden-Headed Walter made her feel queasy. And as for wanting to see either of them with their shirt off? Ugh!
‘I suppose I should feel grateful to learn that you’ve been listening to me and believing what I’ve said about my feelings for you not being based on what you look like. Or being affected by what you look like. But you know what? I’m not. I’m furious that you are using my own argument to prop up your excuses for...abandoning me!’
He shook his head and took a breath as though to argue the point.
‘No, Ben,’ she said, as he held up the first finger to indicate the first item on his list of excuses. ‘If you really loved me, you wouldn’t want to leave me behind. It would tear your heart out.’ As the thought of it was tearing at her own.
‘It will be painful,’ he said. ‘The parting. But I will always have these last two weeks to remember. The closeness we shared that I’d never dared dream of. That I never thought I’d ever be privileged to share with you. And it will be a comfort to know that you are safe and as happy as a marriage to me could ever have made you, with all the work you have here...’
‘F
ustian! We could keep on sharing that closeness if you took me with you. Why settle for just two weeks when we could have a lifetime together?’
He looked at the ground in front of her feet. Shook his head. But just as she was on the point of completely losing her temper with him, something about his attitude sparked a memory. A memory of the way he’d acted as a lad, the visit after the broken collar bone, when he’d been too self-conscious about his spots to dare speak to her. But it hadn’t been just the spots at all, had it? Deep down, Ben just thought he was unworthy of her regard. That he didn’t deserve her loyalty, let alone her love. Back then, rather than expose his true feelings and risk her rejection, he’d walked away from her, pretending he didn’t care.
Her heart sped up. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was doing the same thing now. For all she knew, he actually wanted her to go with him. But he couldn’t bring himself to believe they would be happy together for very long. And he’d rather remember two perfect weeks than live through the pain of them perhaps falling out with each other. He wasn’t saying she wasn’t able to cope with the rigours of army life at all. This wasn’t about him thinking she wasn’t up to the challenge. It was him, being afraid she’d get tired of him and leave him, which would hurt him far more than just leaving her behind with some rosy memories to keep him warm at night.
Yes, yes, because this was the man who’d loved her for years without telling a soul because he hadn’t believed it was possible that she should ever care for him in return. He’d suffered in silence, watching other men court her, and had never dared to declare himself.
Because he’d been so abused as a child that he genuinely believed he was unlovable.
If it hadn’t been for Walter and Horace, and that drunken prank, they wouldn’t even have had these two weeks. He’d have gone back to the army and she’d never have known...
‘Ben, I am really cross with you,’ she told him. His face settled into an expression that spoke of his acceptance that her anger was all he deserved. ‘For thinking that I could possibly be happy here without you.’ And for not even trying to believe in what they could have.
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