Larkrigg Fell

by Freda Lightfoot

Sarah almost choked on her laughter. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. He wouldn’t want to do any such thing. There are ways with test tubes these days. Haven’t you heard of surrogate mothers?’

  Beth wondered whether the use of a test tube would make the slightest difference to Andrew’s reaction, were she to have Pietro’s child, and shuddered at the thought. ‘This has to be the most stupid idea you’ve ever dreamt up, Sarah. Andrew would go mad. My marriage is in trouble enough with Pietro being here, let alone this.’ And getting up she started to back away, holding up her hands in defensive protest. Sarah ran after her, jerking her to a halt with clutching fingers.

  ‘Don’t tell him. You could come away with us for a few months. Say its a vacation. You could have the baby in Italy then come home and no one would be any the wiser.’ Sarah’s excitement spiralled almost out of control as the idea took hold.

  Beth actually felt a laugh start up deep in her throat. Hysteria obviously, for she’d never felt further from laughter in her life. ‘Stop this, Sarah. I’ve heard enough.’

  ‘I’ll lose him. Do you hear me? I must give him a child. Don’t be selfish, Beth. You have to help me in this. You’re my sister, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘Calm down. Things have changed.’ Beth was becoming increasingly alarmed by Sarah’s highly wrought state. ‘There must be some other way. Adoption, for instance. Please don’t ask me for this, Sarah.’

  ‘Pietro would never consider adoption. And where else can I go for help but to you, my own twin sister? You’ve always helped me in the past, why not now?’ Beth half expected her to stamp her foot.

  Very calmly she tried to make Sarah understand. ‘Because we’re no longer children squabbling over a favourite toy. Or even young girls falling in love with the same man. Babies are real people and must be brought into the world with love, not as a means to win a trophy. Even if that trophy is the man you love.’

  Sarah clenched her fists into two tight balls, her face a picture of anguish, lips quivering like a child. But there was something more in that dear face. Something Beth recognised only too clearly. Fear. She couldn’t help but think that if she hadn’t betrayed her sister by sleeping with Pietro, he might then have married Sarah. Beth was no nearer knowing whether Ellen’s wild suspicions were correct, but the whole situation seemed to be growing into a worse nightmare by the minute. And must be put right, quickly.

  Putting out a hand, she gently pulled Sarah into her arms. ‘I’ll go and see Pietro. He must be made to understand the pressure he’s putting you under. You take care of the children and I’ll talk to him. I can do that for you, at least.’

  It was risky. Striding over the fell, a fierce determination to put everything right making her cover the distance in half her usual time, yet Beth was filled with worry. If Andrew discovered that she’d visited Pietro at Larkrigg, then he might indeed walk out on her. Her marriage would be truly over. And what would she do then?

  She had to take the risk. She had to know what, exactly, was going on.

  Was Ellen right? When had he used her? When he’d seduced her while he was still Sarah’s lover? When he’d refused to choose between them? And when he’d left with Sarah and callously abandoned her. That had been cruel and unkind. But what choice did he have? Sarah was so very highly strung and been in need of his support.

  She stopped to think about this, leaning her head against the cool surface of the Gemini Stones, letting the wind buffet her as her mind drifted back to those heady days when they’d seemed so young and powerful, imagining themselves and their love to be immortal.

  Pietro had sworn that he’d loved them both equally, yet Ellen was right in that he had hurt them both. Look at poor Sarah even now. Why was he refusing to marry her simply because she couldn’t give him a child? That was immensely cruel, yet he claimed to love her, only too aware how she loved and needed him.

  One other question troubled Beth. Was she entirely free of her own need for him?

  Beth faced Pietro in the kitchen, forgetting everything she’d so carefully rehearsed on the way and blurting out the first words that came to mind. ‘Is it true? Did you simply use us for your own ends? Tell me what’s going on.’

  He stared at her without blinking, then gave a wry smile. ‘Beth, how very nice to see you. Coffee?’

  ‘No thanks.’

  His face was as beautiful as ever, not a line to mar the olive-skinned perfection. The eyes were every bit as blue and clear, the mouth as enchanting, if more cynical than she recalled.

  She watched him move about the kitchen, percolate coffee with neat efficiency. It might once have broken her heart to stand in this kitchen which had been her own, and know that it never would be hers again. As it would once have broken her heart to know that she couldn’t have Pietro. But times had changed. She had changed. Beth felt nothing now, and exulted in that fact.

  ‘Sarah came to me with some crazy story about wanting me to give you a child.’ She kept her eyes on his face, watching for any flicker of guilt, ignoring the fragrant cup of coffee he set before her.

  He shrugged. ‘What is so crazy about it? You are sisters, twins in fact. We need a child. Sarah has tried but does not seem able to have one. You can have plenty. You owe her some happiness, is that not so, in return for your betrayal?’ The smile challenged her, even as the brilliant eyes narrowed. ‘I am sure she would think so, if she knew the truth.’

  So that was the way of it. Blackmail. Beth sat on the hard chair and clenched her hands tightly together in her lap. It would take all of her courage to outface him and beat him at this new game. She thought of Andrew’s love for her, and her new-found love for him, and the strength she needed came to her.

  She met his gaze unperturbed, her own eyes cold. ‘I seem to recall I was not alone in that sin. It was a mistake, a bad one, but we were young and naïve. I’m sure in retrospect Sarah would forgive our folly.’ She was sure of no such thing but had to make him believe it. ‘It only happened the one time. And we are not young and crazy any more, no longer live a communal life. We’ve grown up.’

  ‘You think that will save you?’ And he laughed.

  ‘There are some things you can’t share. Love, for one. Ellen says you never loved either of us. That you deliberately set out to hurt us, to make us jealous of each other. Is that so?’

  ‘Ellen will say anything against me, because I have given her notice to quit. Did she tell you? She must clear her mess from my land, and go.’

  He was clever, oh yes, he was definitely clever. Who would believe an old woman with an eviction notice hanging over her? Beth instinctively wanted to defend Ellen, who was perfectly capable of fighting her own battles, yet that wasn’t what she was here to do. She tried a different tack. ‘I owe Sarah nothing. Because of her selfish carelessness I was left penniless and lost Larkrigg to the bank.’

  ‘From whom I bought it at a knock-down price.’

  ‘Apparently so.’

  ‘You could have it back if you wished. Or money, if you prefer. Money is not a problem. My stepfather gives me all that I ask. That is the price of his guilt for stealing my mother.’

  ‘Can you only judge the value of something, or someone, by what you can get out of them?’

  ‘Everyone has a price.’

  Beth was shocked to the core and answered with spirit. ‘You can’t buy a child, Pietro. You aren’t God. And I no longer feel obliged to provide Sarah with whatever is her latest whim.’

  ‘You will do as she asks. Whatever I demand, you will provide. Can you not see how she clings to the edge? It would take very little to send her quite demented, I think. Suicidal even. The smallest thing could trip her, such as discovering how her own sister betrayed her.’

  The cold fury in his eyes made a parody of those perfect features, made them almost frightening, and the desire to run from him was overwhelming. But Beth refused to be overwhelmed. She was thinking fast, fighting for a way out of the morass of emotion he was piling upon her.

  �
�Ellen says you were out for some sort of twisted revenge against my family. Is that why you won’t marry Sarah? How would she react to that, if she knew?’ If Beth had expected him to be disturbed by this accusation, she had misread her man. A brief look of astonishment, quickly masked by high pitched laughter. ‘What else did that old woman tell you?’

  ‘Isn’t it enough?’

  ‘She has too big a nose.’

  ‘Then it’s true?’

  ‘You must decide for yourself. It is not important. I take what I want from life.’

  ‘Then perhaps its time you stopped. Time you were prepared to work for it yourself, not demand it of others. Perhaps it’s time for you both to grow up, as I have had to do.’

  He took a step towards her and she flinched away, accidentally knocking the coffee cup and sending scalding liquid spilling all over the table, over her hand. In an instant Pietro captured the hand and took her to the sink where he held it under the cold tap. Beth was acutely aware of his fingers gripping her arm, the pain of the burn nothing by comparison.

  ‘I love my husband,’ she told him, needing to say it. And as she heard his soft chuckle, wished she hadn’t.

  ‘That is good. But you love me too, I think.’ One hand seemed to have crept about her waist, was pressing somewhere below her left breast, and she became intensely aware of his mouth hovering a mere breath from her own.

  ‘Oh, my sweet Beth. Do you not realise that I have never stopped loving you? I have never forgotten your enchanting face, those wonderful moments we enjoyed together, and could again. You have only to say the word. Why do you deny it? You want it too.’

  His hands moved more freely over her, touching her cheek, her lips, her hair, down over the line of her throat and breasts. ‘Such a delightful and firm little body which I love to worship with my own. Did we not always make the good team, the three of us?’ His lips were somewhere behind her ear, the heat of his breath on her neck and one hand was moving over her hip, down to her buttocks, pressing her against him.

  No fire seared her loins, not a flicker of desire moved within her. Nothing. Only a deep loathing. ‘Let me go, Pietro.’

  Her voice was cool and flat but he paid no heed, only continued with his kneading, his hands everywhere, his breathing growing ragged as he fondled her breast, lifted her skirt.

  ‘Pietro, no…’ Any moment now he might actually kiss her, or worse.

  ‘I think yes. That is what you really mean, little one. Yes, yes, yes.’ And he laughed, nibbling at her ear, making her skin crawl. She felt trapped, his hold on her so fierce that for an instant fear flickered, and panic washed through her, cold and hot by turn. What if he wouldn’t release her, what if ... Then she took hold of his hand and very firmly and dispassionately removed it from her breast as if it were a troublesome insect that had landed there by mistake. Her gaze was freezing as it met his.

  ‘Thank you for the first aid treatment but my hand is quite recovered.’ Then she walked away, her dignity and pride very much intact. At the door she turned to glare at him. ‘You can be absolutely certain that I shall not provide Sarah with a child, only an explanation. I hope that I can save her, from herself, and from you.’

  ‘You will regret it.’

  ‘Do, your worst.’ Then she calmly walked out of the kitchen and down the path, hoping he did not notice how her legs were shaking.

  Yet she’d soon recovered enough to run down the drive, and was laughing by the time she reached the Gemini Stones. She flung her arms about one and let the wind ripple through her hair. She was free! At last she was truly free of the hold he’d had on her. And from that terrible infatuation which had so sapped her strength. Beth wondered why it had taken her so long to see him as he really was. How blind is love.

  Dealing with Sarah would not be easy, but somehow her sister must be made to see how evil the man was.

  But even the prospect of facing Sarah’s wrath didn’t sober her. She was too happy, too relieved, feeling a certainty growing inside that next time she told Andrew how much she loved him, she could finally convince him that it was true. Because now she had entirely convinced herself.

  She did not notice as she ran on down the hill, that she was watched.

  Hidden in the fringes of Brockbarrow Wood, Andrew stood silently watching his wife behave like a young excited girl, then he looked back at the house. He’d seen her go in, knew to a minute how long she’d spent there with Pietro.

  What else would make her so happy? He had never made her laugh so happily in his entire life, and he wished, with all his heart, that he could.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Andrew strode out over the fellside, intent on meeting up with the search party from Broombank, his long legs making short work of the distance. It was early, no more than six o’clock but he had no job lined up for that day so why shouldn’t he spend it hunting Lawson. Nothing would give him greater pleasure.

  How he’d love to catch him red-handed. What would he do with him? Beat him to a pulp. And have Beth never speak to him again? Take him to the police then. Let them deal with him. Sheep rustling was a criminal offence.

  He found Meg on the crag of Dundale Knot, dogs at heel.

  ‘How could we lose nearly fifty sheep?’ she said, the moment he reached her. ‘The odd one perhaps, to a dog or down a crevasse. But fifty?’

  ‘Somebody has taken them. It’s the only answer.’

  ‘Exactly. And in all the years I’ve farmed Broombank, I’ve never experienced this problem before. Why should we suddenly suffer from sheep rustling? Who could be doing it?’

  Now their eyes met, the still unspoken thought loud between them.

  ‘I have my suspicions,’ Andrew said, as they set off together along a sheep trod.

  ‘Me too.’

  Again a silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of their footsteps and the wind moaning over the fell tops. They breasted a ridge, jumped over a patch of bog whortleberries, their boots sinking in to the damp peat and in the end it was Meg who put their thoughts into words. ‘My own granddaughter’s husband?’

  ‘They aren’t married, remember.’ Andrew’s voice was flat and hard.

  Meg nodded, her face thoughtful. ‘He does seem to bear us a very real grudge. Me, in particular.’

  ‘Yes,’ Andrew agreed. ‘Revenge for what he feels he lost when you didn’t marry his grandfather.’

  Meg shook her head in despair. ‘Absolutely ridiculous. What happened between Jack and me was a lifetime ago. It’s dead and gone, the war saw to that.’

  ‘But it’s warped him for whatever he imagines he’s lost. He thinks it’s affected his entire family life. And he’ll mebbe do anything he can to destroy yours by way of retaliation.’ Head down, eyes on the pounding of his boots on the sheep cropped turf, the next words burst from him, unbidden. ‘He’s even after Beth.’

  ‘Beth?’ Meg pulled him to a halt. ‘What about Beth?’

  To his very great surprise he found himself confiding in this woman he’d so resented for offering him charity and pity. They stood in a cold grey dawn on Larkrigg Fell and he poured out his heart to her, telling how Beth had only married him on the rebound. How she had been besotted by Pietro and probably still was. How he’d caught them together.

  ‘Not ... ?’

  ‘I saw him kiss her. Out here, on Larkrigg fell.’

  Meg was thoughtful for a moment. ‘And did she kiss him?’

  ‘She wasn’t doing anything to stop him.’ Andrew glowered. ‘More likely she found herself still yearning for him and then felt guilty. Beth would react that way. I found her running from him, obviously upset and very much on the defensive.’

  ‘She could, of course, be entirely innocent, running away for a different reason.’

  Andrew shook his head, sunk deep in the gloom of self-pity. ‘She still loves him, that’s plain. I can feel the tension in her, like a wound-up spring. Then I saw her leaving Larkrigg Hall yesterday, skippy as a young lamb.’ T
he bitterness in his voice was painful to hear.

  ‘Have you talked to her about it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Don’t you think you should?’

  Andrew’s frown deepened. ‘I’ve no wish to hear how much she still dotes on that man.’

  Meg felt a surge of irritation. ‘You’re condemning her without a defence. She’s your wife, give her that right at least. Talk to her.’

  Andrew kicked at a stone, making it bounce down the mountainside for several feet before it came to rest.

  ‘I know,’ Meg sighed. ‘It’s none of my business. Grandmothers aren’t supposed to interfere, but I love Beth, and if you love her as much as you claim then you owe her a decent hearing. Right? Isn’t your marriage worth fighting for?’

  Andrew lifted his eyes to hers without speaking for a long moment. Then he gave a shamefaced nod. ‘You’re right, Meg, thanks.’

  ‘Good.’ She clasped a hand on his shoulder. ‘Have faith, lad. Have faith. Now, to business. Tam is heading over Coppergill Pass. There’s a spot near there where a lorry might get. I want to check out this heaf, you head west towards the house. If I don’t see you before, we’ll meet in a couple of hours at the edge of the wood, by the tarn. OK? Then we can nip off home for a bite of breakfast.’

  Dawn was not a time Beth would have chosen for her confrontation with Sarah, but since she’d decided to stay with them for a few days, she’d taken to getting up whenever little Emily cried. It had become almost a race for Beth to reach her daughter first. On this occasion Sarah was in the room like a shot, cradling the child in her arms by the time Beth climbed out of bed.

  ‘I’ll take her,’ she said, and Sarah handed her over with obvious reluctance.

  ‘I’m surprised you don’t hear her the moment she cries.’

  Beth carried the child downstairs and sat in her favourite spot on the sofa. Andrew had lit the fire for her, and it was warm and cosy. She didn’t bother to respond to Sarah’s criticism. ‘I usually make myself a cup of tea while I’m feeding, perhaps you could do it for me.’