Savage Possession

by Margaret Tanner

  When the sandwiches were all gone and they had started on their second cup of tea, Beth looked at the other woman with compassion. “You’ve been ill, I can see,” she said gently.

  “My children have been sick with measles. I had a miscarriage, and caught child bed fever all at the one time.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Beth reached over and squeezed Lilly’s hand.

  “We spent John’s wages on medicines and the doctor, there wasn’t any money left over for food. He took a few handfuls of flour from a broken bag, which would probably have been thrown away. The crate was already empty, on my word of honor. For five years John’s worked hard for your husband, he tried to explain what happened, but Mr. Mulvaney wouldn’t listen, just called him a thief and told him to get out.”

  “I’m sorry, Lilly, I don’t have much money in my purse; I could go upstairs and give you what I do have.”

  “We want a job, not charity. Isn’t it enough that I’ve been sick, I lost my baby and my children are ill? Are we to starve, too?”

  “I understand your grief.” Beth touched her stomach and gave it a gentle rub. “I’m having a baby, too, and I would be heartbroken if something happened to it. I’ll speak to my husband, I promise. Please trust me. I’ll beg if I have to.”

  “Thank you, I would have gone to your husband myself, only he’s so hard and ruthless I knew he wouldn’t listen. I didn’t expect to be treated so nice by quality like you.”

  “I’ve been poor. We had enough to eat because we lived on a farm, although I never had store bought clothes until I married Martin. Don’t worry, I’ll get him to give your husband back his job.”

  “Thank you, thank you.” Lilly got up from the table. “I have to get back home as I left the children with a friend. John went off searching for work even though there isn’t much around.”

  Beth stood also. “Where do you live?”

  “Port Melbourne, not far from the docks.”

  “How will you get back?”

  “Walk, same way as I got here.”

  “You can’t! It’s too far. I’ll see the manager and get him to arrange a cab home for you, Martin can repay him later.”

  Brushing aside Lilly’s protests, Beth borrowed enough money to pay her fare home plus an extra ten shillings, which was all the manager would give her. Martin would be furious. She felt confident now, although facing his wrath later on would be a different matter.

  Back in their room, Beth slipped out of her gown and lay on the bed. What must it be like to beg and plead with a stranger? It grieved her Martin could be so driven and ruthless his workers did not dare approach him. Would he have shown mercy if Lilly had gone to him?

  Beth was drifting in a void between full sleep and wakefulness when Martin wrenched the door open and stormed in.

  “What have you been up to?” he snarled.

  “Nothing.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

  “Can’t I leave you alone for a few hours without you making an exhibition of yourself? Consorting with riff raff, borrowing money from hotel staff.”

  “Don’t be angry, I only tried to help that poor woman.”

  “What woman?” He took off his coat and flung it over a chair.

  “Lilly Preston.”

  “Who is Lilly Preston?”

  “John Preston’s wife, the man you dismissed. He didn’t steal from those crates.”

  Martin stalked across the room and stared down at her, his face set and angry.

  “You’ll interfere with matters that don’t concern you once too often, and so help me, I won’t be responsible for my actions. Don’t you understand your duties as my wife? You will warm my bed, be available when I want you, and you will be decorative when you accompany me anywhere. I require nothing else from you.”

  “But…”

  “I don’t need your advice on how to run my business or how to treat my workers.”

  “Please.” She wrung her hands. “Lilly seemed so desperate. Her husband needs his job back. They have three little children, she’s recently suffered a miscarriage and they’ve all been sick. His wages went on doctors and medicines, so he helped himself to a broken bag of flour.”

  “The man is a thief.”

  “He didn’t steal from those crates, someone else did. Lilly swore he only took a few handfuls of flour.”

  “You’re so gullible you’d believe those lying thieves.”

  “She sounded genuine and he wants his job back.”

  “No.”

  “He was a loyal worker for five years, doesn’t that count for something?”

  “No, not when he stole from me. I won’t employ a thief.”

  “Please, I’ll return some of the gowns and get your money back,” she pleaded.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Get dressed and we’ll go down for dinner.”

  “I don’t want any.”

  “You’re being foolish.”

  “No I’m not. How can I eat, when I know those little Preston children are hungry?”

  “Please yourself.” He snatched up his coat and stormed out of the room.

  Chapter Eleven

  Darkness enveloped the room by the time Martin returned. He cursed and fumbled around for the light.

  His cold gaze swept over Beth as she huddled in the bed. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get ready for the dance.”

  “I don’t want to go now, everything’s spoilt.”

  “You will get out of bed. You will pretty yourself up, and you will go to the dance and enjoy yourself. Understand?”

  “If I don’t?”

  “I will drag you out of bed and dress you myself.”

  Fighting with him would not help John Preston get his job back. She had to use feminine wiles, if she could dredge up any.

  After he stomped out of the room, she washed and put on her new petticoats, before slipping the taffeta gown over her head. Of the palest blue, it was almost white, and trimmed with deeper blue material around the neckline. The front was low cut, showing more cleavage than she had ever exposed. The skirt was caught up in sections, each one held in place by a single pink rosebud. She had never seen such a beautiful gown before, let alone worn one.

  Gathering a swathe of hair from either side of her head, she worked it into a central plait at the back, while the rest of her hair hung loose over her shoulders. On her head, she wore a wreath of matching pale pink flowers. She pinched her cheeks several times to put color in them, but could do nothing to hide the sad torment in her eyes.

  Beth had never been vain, but she looked well tonight. Would Martin be pleased with her appearance? A splash of lavender water on her wrists and throat and she was ready. With the cloak draped about her shoulders, she left the room.

  Martin stood with Ollie near the foot of the staircase.

  “My God, Martin, I’ve never seen anything so lovely.”

  Martin followed his friend’s gaze. The breath caught in his throat, and once again, he felt a strange sensation constricting his heart. Elizabeth’s soft sweet lips formed themselves into a tremulous smile, her milky skin showed off her lovely eyes. They were the mirrors of a beautiful soul. She was troubled and distressed over Preston and his family. He felt an absolute polecat for inflicting such pain on her.

  “Well, my dear, you look beautiful.” Ollie came up to her and kissed her hand.

  “Thank you, Oliver,” she whispered, with a sad little smile.

  “You look lovely,” Martin said huskily. Lovely, exquisite more like. She’s mine. Slipping his arm through hers, he drew her away from Ollie’s enraptured gaze.

  “Do you like the gown?”

  “Yes, very much.” His eyes focused on the creamy mounds of her breasts, exposed by the low neckline.

  “Oliver helped me choose it.”

  Martin felt somehow cheated because he had not been with her.

  Beth snuggled into the soft upholstered seats of the carriage Martin had arranged and her spirits picked up a little. She would n
ot think about the Prestons’ plight for now, more important to pacify Martin. Having never been to a supper dance before, surely it wasn’t too selfish to want to enjoy it.

  As the horses’ hooves clip-clopped along Melbourne’s gas lit streets, her excitement mounted.

  “I can’t wait to get there. Do you think your friends will like me?”

  Both men laughed at her question.

  “They’ll adore you,” Ollie said. “At least the men will.”

  They passed along a tree-lined avenue, and she realized the mansion they were going to overlooked the Yarra River. The coach pulled up under the portico entrance beside a red carpet runner, and a uniformed footman rushed over to help them alight.

  The ballroom was built into the sloping ground below the main rooms of the mansion. It opened on to a conservatory where guests could stroll between dances.

  Martin laughed at her enraptured expression before introducing her to his school friend Twig, a thin aristocratic man, who thumped both Ollie and Martin’s backs with vigor.

  “Good to see you again, chaps.” He spoke with an upper-class English accent.

  “Went to Oxford,” Ollie whispered in Beth’s ear.

  “This is Elizabeth, my wife.”

  “Your wife!” Twig recovered himself with aplomb. “Well, I am pleased to meet you. Surprised, but pleased. Excellent taste, Martin.”

  Beth did not like his plum in the mouth voice, or the showy, theatrical movement of his hands. His excellent taste remark, made her feel like a piece of meat hanging in a butcher’s shop.

  More than sixty people congregated inside the magnificent ballroom, all in the latest fashions. My gown looks as good as any of theirs. It did not conceal, but flattered her pregnancy. She clung to Martin’s arm as they entered. Her stomach churned with nerves, her legs shook so badly she wondered how they held her up. He selected two glasses from a uniformed waiter.

  “Champagne,” he offered.

  She almost snatched the glass out of his hand and took a mouthful. The bubbles tickled and she wrinkled her nose. It tasted awful as she took another desperate gulp, trying to calm her nerves.

  “Not too fast, you’ll make yourself ill,” he cautioned.

  An orchestra played on a raised platform at one end of the ballroom.

  “I’ll have first dance with you, Elizabeth, if Martin doesn’t mind.” Ollie picked up her hand.

  Martin minded very much, but for a king’s ransom would not let his friend know how piqued he felt. He watched with narrowed eyes as they waltzed around. Elizabeth was the loveliest woman in the room. She laughed at something Ollie said and jealousy corroded his stomach.

  When he had just about reached the stage of rushing on to the dance floor to drag her away from his friend, they returned.

  “She’s as light as thistledown,” Ollie said. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “So you keep telling me. Would you care to dance with me, Elizabeth?”

  “Yes, but Oliver has to leave soon. Tell him to come over and visit us at the castle.” She could not believe how much she liked his amusing friendliness. I won’t let how he makes his money interfere with our friendship. Martin’s explanation about him running a legitimate business and providing a necessary service rang true, even if she disliked the idea. Besides, she had no right to judge how others made their living.

  “Ollie knows he’s always welcome.”

  “He hasn’t come.”

  “I will now I’ve met you, sweet Elizabeth.” As he picked up her hand and brought it to his lips, Martin scowled. Could he be jealous of Oliver’s attentiveness? The thought emboldened her to let him hold her hand longer than necessary.

  “We could have a party,” she suggested, wondering whether to flutter her eyelashes as she had seen several other women do tonight. “Please say we can.”

  “I’ll see.” Martin slipped a hand in his pocket. “Are you leaving now, Oll?”

  “Yes, I’m booked on the first train tomorrow. I don’t like leaving the Black Stallion for too long.”

  “I wish you didn’t run, um, that place,” she said.

  “It’s a legitimate business, my dear.”

  “I can’t visit you there, Oliver.”

  “I have a private residence.”

  Martin snorted with annoyance, his mouth tightened. “She’s not going anywhere near your place. Think of the gossip it would cause.”

  “I’ll have to come and visit you, sweet Elizabeth.” His grin was in direct contrast to his formal tones.

  “I’d like that, thank you for the shopping trip.”

  The orchestra started up again, and Martin drew her into his arms. Ollie might be his best friend, but he was not sorry such a dangerous charmer would go home in the morning. The earlier the better.

  Martin knew he was an excellent dancer, Elizabeth being so graceful and light on her feet, easily followed his whispered instructions.

  “Don’t do that, not in public,” he admonished, when she pressed closer against him.

  “Why not?” She put up her hand to stroke his cheek and he pushed it away.

  “You’re making an exhibition of yourself.”

  “You’re my husband, what’s wrong with showing my affection for you?”

  “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “I wouldn’t like to do that.”

  Her body slumped as the energy drained out of it. He stared into her face. Her eyes, those beautiful doe eyes widened with hurt, and he could have bitten off his tongue. She did not understand how genteel society behaved at these functions. How could she? His eyes narrowed when two fat corseted women stared at them.

  When the dance finished, he escorted her from the floor. He stepped away to get them a drink.

  Ollie came up to say a final farewell. “Goodbye, sweet Elizabeth.” He kissed his fingers and touched them to her hand.

  “Have a safe trip home, Oliver.”

  Martin handed Elizabeth a glass of fruit punch, and kept a brandy for himself. “I’ll be back in a moment. I’ll see Ollie off.”

  Left alone, Beth glanced around at the other guests. Most of them seemed to be Martin’s age or older. Two or three of the men nodded, the rest ignored her.

  A woman dressed in deep pink stopped in front of her; there was no friendliness in her almond-shaped eyes. “So, you’re Martin’s wife, are you? Rather on the young side. He’s almost old enough to be your father.”

  “Martin loves me.”

  “Love,” the woman sneered. “Men like him wouldn’t know the meaning of the word.”

  “Not spreading your poison over Elizabeth, I hope, Johanna.” Twig sauntered up to them.

  The woman ignored him and flounced off.

  “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  “My pleasure. Has Martin deserted you?”

  “No, he went to farewell Oliver.”

  “Oh? Well, he’s over in the far corner now, flirting with Lady Penelope Chambers.”

  Beth followed his gaze, and saw Martin with his face up close to that of an attractive, raven-haired young woman.

  “Supper is served,” Twig said. “Would you care for something?” He offered her his arm.

  “No, thank you, I’ll wait for my husband.”

  As Beth waited for Martin to disentangle himself from Lady Penelope, she watched some of the other guests, and they sickened her. Several people heaped their plates up with food, ate a small amount then left the rest. Others took a bite out of a sandwich, pushed it to one side, and reached for another one. While the Preston family and people like them went hungry, the gentry at this party wasted food.

  More time passed, still Martin did not come back. Feeling lost and alone, she hovered near the door of the conservatory.

  “I’m sorry, Penelope, nice reminiscing with you, but my wife awaits me, I’ve neglected her for too long.” Martin extricated himself.

  He walked away without a backward glance. The crowd surged around him and Elizabeth disappeared from view.
When he spotted her again, she looked little and sad, as out of place as a delicate rose in the desert.

  He shrugged off the restraining hand of a drunken schoolmate and strode over to her.

  “I thought you’d forgotten about me.” Her lips trembled.

  “Never, my sweet.”

  “Look at the way some of those people waste food. It would feed poor people like the Prestons for a week.”

  Gazing into her shadowed eyes, Martin frowned when he recognized real pain in them.

  “You can’t save everyone. Come and have supper.”

  “I couldn’t. How can I eat when Lilly and her children go hungry?”

  He snorted his frustration. “You can’t starve yourself because of them.”

  “I can’t help how I am.”

  He picked up the tremor in her voice. “All right.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “If it will put the stars back in your eyes again, I’ll give Preston back his job.”

  “Thank you.” Her sudden smile lit up the room.

  “Now will you eat?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve been thinking.” It was a lie; the thought that just popped into his head did have merit, though. If it would make her happy, damn the expense. He led her over to a seat. “On the first day of each month I’ll supply every family man with a bag of flour, sugar and salt, if they’ve worked conscientiously.”

  She clapped her hands. “Yes, yes.”

  Sheer joy leapt to her eyes and it made him reckless. “I’ll…I’ll make arrangements for a fund to be set up to pay for doctors and medicines for any man whose family falls ill.”

  “What a wonderful idea.” Her brilliant smile lit up the room and gave him a feeling of well-being. A rich man should spread some of his wealth around. It had never occurred to him to do so before.

  “You’ll eat now, and not worry anymore, my sweet girl?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  She made to kiss him, but he could not let her, not here. These people would not understand such a spontaneous show of affection, so he stepped back a pace.

  “Eat something to build up your strength for when we’re alone. Tonight I’ll take you to paradise,” he promised with fervor.