Her revulsion won, and she wrestled with him silently, hating this.
‘No, Ran. Not here. Not like this!’ she gasped. Because she knew it wouldn’t be love that made him take her, but lust, and a need to possess her.
‘You’re right,’ he mumbled, his hands going to her hair now, unpinning it roughly, so that the pins flew everywhere, and his fingers raked through the tumbling blue-black hair. ‘We’ll go upstairs, before the need for you drives me mad.’
She went with him dumbly, half-supporting his stumbling form now, and knowing that if she didn’t, he would carry out his lovemaking right here in the drawing room. Once, such lovemaking had been erotic and beautiful. But she couldn’t bear it now. It wouldn’t even be lovemaking. It would be rape. And such an outrage would be a humiliating end to a wonderful, emotional evening.
Upstairs, he flung the door of their bedroom shut behind him, and began tearing off his clothes. She undressed as quickly as she could, her fingers shaking so much she could hardly unfasten the buttons on her gown. Her beautiful, vibrant, russet-coloured silk gown, bought specially for this evening, that Ran had hardly noticed.
She was inside the bedcovers while he was still fumbling irritably with his clothes, his haste and foul temper doing nothing to help him. But at last he was beside her, quickly covering her body with his own, and pressing kisses on her mouth.
‘I need to know you belong to me, Morwen,’ he said against her lips, in an odd voice that she couldn’t fathom for the moment. She struggled to speak, although she was pinned down by the unrelenting weight of him.
‘You know I do! I always have—’
‘Not always,’ he slurred, his hands roaming urgently over her body as if he had never seen or felt it before. ‘I wasn’t the first, was I?’
‘Ran, for goodness’ sake,’ she said, with a mixture of nervousness and alarm. ‘You can hardly condemn me for having been married before I even knew you existed!’
‘Every man has the right to expect a pure bride on his wedding night—’
‘Well, that could hardly have troubled you, since you didn’t even wait for our wedding night,’ she said, bitterly defensive.
Appalled, she listened to their own accusations, and she could have wept at the way they were destroying the sweetness of that long ago night in London, when they had first made such tremulous, forbidden love. When she had belonged in marriage to Ben Killigrew, and not to him.
‘I don’t recall that you objected too strongly,’ he said, insultingly.
‘That’s not fair,’ she said, choked. ‘You know how I battled with my conscience, Ran.’
It was unbelievable how he could continue his sensual arousal of her body, while his words degraded her. It was as if he had become two different people. The Ran she adored, and the one she hated.
‘But not for long. And you seem to have forgotten the rudiments of lovemaking, honey.’
He grasped her hand and thrust it downwards to where his half-hearted erection was attempting to thrust into her, and not succeeding. It was the fault of the drink, of course. He should have known all along that he wouldn’t be able to perform tonight, but he was starting to curse savagely now, as her own efforts to arouse him produced nothing. She ached with embarrassment for him, knowing how the rare occasions when he’d failed had angered and embittered him, but he must surely see that it was no good…
‘Ran, why don’t we leave it until another time?’ she said gently, trying not to sound upset or let down. In truth, she wasn’t at all, for it wasn’t the right time for loving, but she didn’t dare let him see that either.
‘What other time? A time when this useless piece of flesh decides to perk up for a change?’ he said in frustrated anger. Sorrow for him fluttered in her heart then.
‘Don’t say such daft things, dar. It hasn’t happened often before, and I doubt that it will happen again, once you give up the drinking,’ she said, very quietly.
He gave a bitter laugh close to her ear. ‘Not happened often before? That’s all you know, my sweet, loving wife! And you should know there are more ways to emasculate a man than by drowning himself in a bottle.’
He rolled away from her, breathing heavily and raggedly. She wished the drink would render him insensible, but it seemed to be having the opposite effect on him now, and he was belligerent and restless.
‘It will pass, I’m sure,’ she murmured, not knowing what else to say, and bewildered by his words. ‘We’re both very tired, Ran. Let’s try to sleep—’
‘Sleep? There’s time enough for bloody sleep when I’m six feet under. That’s the only time I’ll find any real peace, like your Killigrew.’
Morwen’s heart jolted. ‘I don’t know why you keep bringing Ben’s name into it. My marriage to him was a long time ago, and you and I have had a good life together—’
‘Had!’ He picked up on the past tense at once, and she sighed, knowing she would have to choose her words with eggshell care now.
‘We still have a good life, if only you’d relax and not dwell on the past so much. It’s not healthy, Ran—’
‘Maybe I’m not healthy—’
She sat up in bed, staring down at him. He lay like a statue, his ruggedly good-looking face carved and angular in the light from the window. Visions of Ben trying to deal with the prospect of being ill flashed in front of her eyes, and her Mammie’s words seemed oddly prophetic at that moment.
‘What do you mean? You’re not ill, are you? Don’t frighten me like that, please!’
He didn’t even turn to look at her. If it had been any normal time she might have expected him to gather her in his arms and reassure her. But nothing seemed normal between them any more, and his voice was brittle with sarcasm.
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, honey, but I’m not ill, nor proposing to drop dead like your number one husband. I’ve no intention of making room for number three.’
He turned his back on her then, and the shocked tears ran down Morwen’s cheeks. How could he be so insensitive, she raged? And it was a long while later before her crying was done, and by then he lay sleeping noisily beside her.
But she had made her resolve. If there was nothing else between them now, they had the children and they had the clayworks. There was nothing for it now, but to make the best of things. She was strong, and she would prove it.
* * *
That strength was put to the test when Morwen came face to face with Harriet Pendragon in Justin’s office at the appointed time for the document signing. The other woman was as flamboyant as ever, in a peacock-green silk gown and matching hat and parasol. Beside her, Morwen refused to feel dowdy, but no one could avoid seeing the contrast between the two women. Morwen wore dark blue, and although her clothes were expensive and elegant, she immediately felt inadequate. Even so, she held her head high, and didn’t bother to acknowledge the woman.
The office was crowded that afternoon. Justin held court, and the three Killigrew partners sat on one side of the room with their witnesses, while Harriet, the disapproving David Meadows, and her two witnesses, sat on the other.
‘Let’s get this over quickly, Justin,’ Ran said, as he began to read out the lengthy document. ‘We’re all agreed on the sale price of Prosper Barrows, and the terms of it, so let’s just get on with it.’
Justin looked at his stepfather coldly. ‘I’m sorry, but you know this has to be done legally, and I’m bound to read it out to all concerned, and to give the parties the choice of signing or making another decision.’
‘There’s not going to be any other decision,’ Ran snapped. ‘It’s already been made.’
‘But we should hear Mr Killigrew out, my dear Sir,’ Harriet Pendragon said prettily, obviously enjoying this wrangle between kinsmen.
‘We certainly should,’ David Meadows put in at once. ‘I’ve already advised Mrs Pendragon not to act too hastily—’
‘I think the lady can make up her own mind,’ Walter said. ‘She made no bones about
her decision when she came to see us at the clayworks.’
‘Against my wishes and better judgement,’ the man snapped, his face red with annoyance.
By now, the witnesses were beginning to enjoy it too. What had seemed to be a foregone conclusion to their mundane task that afternoon, now promised to be a bit of verbal rough and tumble.
‘Don’t you have anything to add, Mrs Wainwright?’ Harriet said insultingly. ‘You’re a sort of partner, I do believe. Or is your role merely to keep the children out of the way and let the men deal with men’s business?’
Morwen felt Walter’s hand cover hers. Walter’s, not Ran’s. She removed her hand from his at once, and stared icily at the other woman.
‘And do you believe you’re the first woman clay boss in the county, Madam?’ she asked.
Harriet’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and then she shrugged. ‘Oh, I believe there have been one or two attempts at it by those who should stick to their domestic chores.’
‘Not only those,’ Morwen went on, ignoring Justin’s attempt to bring the room to order.
But Morwen was incensed now, and had no intention of letting this woman get the better of her. ‘And if you think I’m merely a sleeping partner in Killigrew Clay, then you underestimate me, and you underestimate my family. I didn’t marry the first man who asked me for the power it gave me. I married a man I loved, and who loved me for what I was then – a clayworker’s daughter, who loved and understood the clay—’
‘Morwen, will you stop this!’ Ran thundered at her now, wrenching her arm as she leapt to her feet. She shook him off, while the others in the room sat open-mouthed and transfixed at the extraordinary sight of two well-dressed ladies glowering at one another. By now Harriet was on her feet too, her face scarlet with rage.
‘You bitch!’ she screamed. ‘If you think I’m buying your husband’s poxy little china stone works now, you can just think again. You can rot in hell, the lot of you!’
She swept out of the room like a ship in full sail, with her financial advisor and all the witnesses scurrying after her, while Morwen almost staggered at the speed of it all. Ran whipped round on her, shaking her like a rag doll.
‘Do you know what you’ve just done?’ he bellowed. ‘You’ve buggered up the best deal I could have got on Prosper Barrows. You’re a bloody menace in business, and in future you can keep your hands out of my affairs.’
She wrenched away from him.
‘Your affairs? Whatever concerns Killigrew Clay concerns me, and don’t you ever forget it,’ she screamed. ‘It was mine before you ever came on the scene—’
‘Mother, for God’s sake—’ Walter sprang between the two of them as they looked fit to do bloody murder. Justin ran round the front of his desk at the same time, and each brother pulled one of the warring partners away from the other.
‘She didn’t mean it, Ran,’ Justin said quickly. ‘She didn’t know what she was saying.’
‘And if she did, it was a spur of the moment reaction, because she’s so passionate about Killigrew Clay and will protect it to the death, as we all will.’
Justin nodded. ‘He’s right, Ran. Now you sit tight while I get some brandy to calm you both down,’ he said quickly. ‘And you keep him away from her, Walter.’
‘I think I’d better, before they kill each other,’ Walter said grimly, seeing the murderous looks that passed between them.
Even as she knew that this was undoubtedly the end of her marriage, Morwen found the hysterical thought running through her mind, that now that she’d said the unforgivable to Ran, her sons seemed to be both on the same side at last.
Chapter Twenty-Four
She hardly knew how they got out of Justin’s chambers, nor could she properly comprehend that a minor miracle must have taken place as she saw Walter and Justin talking quietly and sensibly together as they left. It was the one good thing to come out of this terrible day. But uppermost in her mind was what she had done to the one she loved most in all the world.
He held her arm so tightly she knew she’d be bruised as he strode to the stables where they’d left the gig. She had a job to keep up with him, but she was too proud to complain. Once they had reclaimed their vehicle, they travelled home in total silence, which gave Morwen far too much time to think. Such a silence was ominous, and she knew how tightly Ran’s anger was bottled up inside him. If it once spilled over, she didn’t dare think what he might do or say.
She couldn’t stop shaking. All those carefully planned negotiations for the good of Killigrew Clay had come to nothing, and she had been the one to ruin them by her stupidity and her reckless tongue. She wanted to weep, but she was too shocked to weep. It was one of the worst days of her life, and the future looked as bleak as on the day Ben died.
She stifled a sob in her throat then, knowing that this was the wrong thought to come into her mind at that moment. For the first time in her life she cursed the fact that her thoughts always reverted to the past when she least wanted them to. But when they had travelled several miles, the aggressive silence began to unnerve her.
‘Look, Ran, we can’t go on like this, and you know I’m sorry,’ she managed to say, as well as she could through her tightly clenched teeth. ‘You must know I never meant to hurt you! Please tell me you know that, at least!’
His voice was as sharp as steel. ‘I don’t know anything any more. I don’t know this bloody family, or the clay business, or the contrariness of women, including my own wife. I wish to God I’d never come here.’
‘You don’t mean that!’ she said through shaking lips.
‘Why wouldn’t I mean it?’ he snarled, and she was thankful they were on a lonely stretch of road now, where no one could hear the influential Ran Wainwright shouting like a common docker at his wife. ‘I wish I’d never set foot in this godforsaken country, and never set eyes on the Tremaynes or Killigrews, and that’s a fact. It’s caused me nothing but trouble ever since I got here.’
She gasped, wondering how he could say such things. As if he truly felt that all the years they had been together counted for nothing.
‘If that’s the way you feel, perhaps you’d best go back where you came from then, when Matt leaves next week,’ she said shrilly, her voice harsh with pain.
‘Don’t think I haven’t thought about it,’ he snapped.
Morwen stared straight ahead, unable to see the track for the tears blurring her eyes now. Had he really said those words? That he’d contemplated leaving her, and their children, and all that he’d built up here over the years? But she had virtually destroyed all that success today. She had taken away his power, which, in effect had emasculated him, and guilt rushed over her again.
‘Ran, you know how much I regret what happened back there. You know I never meant it to happen. Do I have to grovel on my knees before you’ll believe it?’
He glanced towards her then, and she was heartsick at the unyielding look in his eyes.
‘Oh, I believe it. But you’re just like the rest of your blundering family, Morwen. You rush in before you stop to think. And if I’m to stay here at all, I’m seriously wondering if it mightn’t be the best thing for me to buy you out of Killigrew Clay, if that’s the only way to stop your meddling.’
Her mouth dropped open at the sheer bloody gall of the man. She might have taken a crumb of comfort from the fact that he was as good as saying he didn’t intend leaving her, and it was only an idle threat… but she was more outraged by the very idea that he thought he could buy her out of Killigrew Clay. It was hers and Ben’s, and in the heart and soul of her, it always would be…
‘How dare you!’ she screamed. ‘I’ll never sell out to you or anyone else. You’d have to kill me before I let you have my shares—’
She stopped abruptly. They had reached an even lonelier stretch of road, and a faint summer drizzle had begun to turn the tracks to mud. There was a descending mist over the moors, and far below the cliffs alongside them, the sea was already blotted out
by the greyness of the late afternoon.
And Morwen felt real fear, knowing her words had a ring of truth about them. He would have to kill her to gain two-thirds control of the clayworks, and he was angry enough to do it. He was strong and powerful… and what better place to do it than here and now, where no one would ever know…? It would only take a moment to push the flimsy gig over the cliffs, with her still inside it…
The full horror of her imaginative thoughts were too much for her, and without warning, she slid from her seat in a dead faint. As she did so, Ran reined in the horse furiously.
She had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but she came around to find herself in her husband’s arms, with her face being slapped. And at once her worst fears were uppermost in her mind again.
‘Don’t kill me, you devil! Please don’t kill me,’ she shrieked. ‘You can have whatever you want—’
The slaps became sharper, stilling her frantic words, and bringing her glazed eyes back into focus.
‘For God’s sake, Morwen, nobody’s going to kill you. You fainted, that’s all. Pull yourself together, unless you’re planning to frighten the wits out of any passers-by. We’re nearly home.’
He wasn’t tender with her, but he didn’t seem quite so angry any more, either. His voice was rough, and as he held her tightly to try and stop her shaking, she sobbed silently against him.
‘Oh Ran, please don’t hate me for what I’ve done.’
She could tell he was making an effort to stay calm and in control. ‘I don’t hate you. But who’s this devil that you thought was going to kill you?’
She said nothing, and his voice became incredulous.
‘Dear God, Morwen, you surely didn’t think I’d do such a thing? What sort of a bloody maniac do you take me for?’
She couldn’t speak for a moment, and when she did her voice was husky with remorse. ‘One who had every right to take revenge on a stupid woman.’
‘Revenge isn’t a word that belongs between us, honey,’ he said. ‘The fact is that I still own Prosper Barrows and its income, and providing we get as good a deal as I hope from the northern folk, we shan’t need any of Harriet Pendragon’s bloodsucking money. We probably never did.’
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