In a hoarse whisper that betrayed his obsession with the idea, he told her, ‘If it was me, I’d beggar myself to acquire it.’
Not for the first time, his manner alarmed her a little. She needed more time – time to think, time to weigh up the consequences. ‘I don’t know,’ she mused aloud, stroking the palm of her hand up and down her throat. ‘It would not be easy to raise the capital needed,’ she said at length. ‘I would be forced to deposit certain deeds with the bank. You realise that if I’m unsuccessful, they will foreclose and we’ll be paupered.’ Suddenly, she saw the folly of it all. ‘No.’ Shaking her head, she said, ‘Richard would never take the risk, and I’d be a fool to even consider it.’
‘You would be a fool not to!’ She had unwittingly touched a nerve, sending his memory back over the years, to when he was a young man. For the briefest and most uncomfortable moment, he was made to think of the father he’d left behind in the North of England, a man just widowed and with a stepson whom he disliked intensely. Tom Reynolds remembered how he had quarrelled with his father, a quarrel much like the one he was leading up to with Esther Ward.
He could hear his father’s words now: ‘Thomas Arnold Reynolds… if you walk out on me, there will never again come a day when you’ll be welcome in my house.’ Fearful that this might well be his last chance to secure his own future, he persisted, ‘Don’t be afraid to strike out, Esther. In this world, you have to grab what you want, before somebody else does. Besides, how do we know the sale will be well attended? Not everyone is as perceptive as you and me. Not everyone will have seen the real value of that land.’
Having worked himself into a highly nervous state, he clenched his fists against his sides, saying in a grating voice, ‘My own father lacked the courage when it came right down to it… I begged him to strike out when land was there for the taking, but he was a small thinker… a loser. I have no time for losers!’ There was bitterness in his voice, and a degree of loathing.
Encouraged by the curiosity in her expression, he drove the argument on. ‘What’s the alternative? Will you sit tight in your little kingdom, and watch it crumbling all around you? The office will be gone soon. You’ve already given notice to the work-force, though you haven’t paid them their dues. Most of your capital is spoken for, and the creditors are closing in. Think about it. The way things are, you might struggle on for a few months. A year maybe. But you’re bound to go down eventually. You must take this opportunity Esther,’ he urged. Afterwards, you can sit back and watch the investment grow handsomely, before you offer it out to the highest bidder and make a killing. What have you got to lose?’
There was a long painful silence while she deliberated on his words. There was never any question in her mind. Some time back, when the warning signs were becoming clearer and Richard was incapacitated, she had been cunning enough to transfer certain holdings into her own name. These represented a tidy sum, not a great fortune but enough for her to be comfortably off. If it came to it, she would sell up and move away, taking Ben with her. As for Richard, he had been a thorn in her flesh for too long now. ‘We’ll see,’ she said cautiously. ‘We’ll see.’ And with that vague promise, she bent her head to study the plans.
If anything was growing at an alarming rate, it was the network of railway lines running out of the centre of London to outlying suburbs. Any land remotely near such construction held unlimited potential. Not only would any subsequent residential development be wonderfully placed to take advantage of the new route into the heart of the city – thereby making the houses attractive to those whose business was in the city centre – but past experience had shown more often than not that the railway barons could well pay a fortune for any land they needed. ‘We might be on to something here,’ murmured Esther, her scheming mind leaping ahead. ‘I would certainly hate to see this land knocked down to another developer.’
‘I knew you’d see it my way.’ The man’s voice came in an intimate whisper. ‘We think alike, you and I.’ Putting the flat of his hand over the plans, he pushed them aside. The woman remained in a half-bent position facing the desk, her arms bearing the weight of her body, and her gaze fixed on the table. She could feel his fingers tracing the curve of her neck.
He could not know how his words had affected her. She was a woman with many needs. For too long now, she had been starved of one particular need, the kind a respectable woman should not dwell on for too long, a deepdown need that only a man could satisfy. Disillusioned with the ruthlessly ambitious woman he had married, Richard had long ago turned his back on her. Consequently, her needs had intensified. The feel of a man’s hands on her caused her to shiver; her shivering excited him, made him bolder. Leaning forward, he pressed himself against her back, his mouth kissing the nape of her neck, and his hands raising her skirt, creeping fingers against her thighs, touching her in that most private part. Trembling and a little afraid, she gently struggled, vaguely aware that her husband was in the next room. But she would not be denied, not now. It was too late.
Frantically he began tearing at the small buttons that ran from her waist to the collar of her dark blouse. ‘No.’ She bowed her head, moaning with pleasure, ceasing her efforts to pull away. Encouraged by her lack of resistance, he tore all the harder at the blouse. She could feel his hard member pushing into her spine, the sweat on his face as it rubbed against her neck, and her own need was all consuming. Laying her hands on his, she stilled them. Turning towards him, her face flushed, her fingers reached down, searching for and caressing the hard nakedness there. He was groaning now, his face turned upward, eyes closed, his whole body trembling. Suddenly, he was bent forward, his hands thrusting apart her blouse, his mouth wetting the dark erect nipples. Lifting her with incredible ease, he laid her across the desk and prising her legs open, spread his half-naked body over hers. Now, as he pushed himself into her, she cried out with joy, locking her arms round his neck and thrusting herself forward, making a noise like an animal devouring him, wanting him heart and soul.
Driven by a fever long suppressed, neither of them heard the door open. Neither saw the man who stood there, a sad bulky figure in the doorway. He remained only a moment then, head bowed in shame, Richard Ward turned away. He did not look at the woman who passed him in the hallway. His thoughts were too personal, too painful.
Tilly Mulliver had seen the look on his face, heard the sounds emanating from the study, knew what he had witnessed, and her heart went out to him. Unlike that gentle man she was neither shocked nor surprised because she had seen the way Tom Reynolds silently lusted after his employer’s wife; she knew also that Esther was no better. Pausing to watch the big man stride away, his broad shoulders bent as though beneath a great weight, Tilly despaired that she could do nothing to help him. She had always considered Richard to be a fine and good man, a man not possessed of ambition, or of the ruthlessness required to succeed in business, a man with principles and a certain dignity. Unfortunately, it was his high principles that had obliged him to reject the daughter he loved; a sad deed that had left its mark on him. Watching him stride away, hurt and humiliated by the shocking scene he had just witnessed, she wondered whether she should tell him her secret.
But then she reminded herself of the promise she had made to another whom she loved. She could not reveal the truth, because it was not hers to tell. For now, she must keep her own counsel. When the time came, he would be told. When the time came, she would no doubt lose him forever. But then, that was as it should be. Someone else had first claim on Richard. Someone else who loved him every bit as much as she did. But not more, never more. On silent feet, she returned to her duties, mindful of her place in the order of things.
* * *
It was three o’clock the following morning when Tilly Mulliver was woken from a shallow sleep. Voices resounded through the house, voices raised in anger. At first she did not recognise the man’s.
‘You’re a slut! God almighty… all these years, and I’ve been blind to what
’s been going on right under my nose.’ There was a pause, then a loud bang as though someone had thumped their fist on a table or sent an object flying against the wall. ‘I want you out of this house! You and that useless son of yours.’
‘He’s your son too, Richard Ward, and don’t you forget it. What’s more, if anybody leaves this house, it won’t be me and it won’t be Ben. If anybody leaves, it will have to be you, I’m afraid. You see, this house is mine now. Together with certain other assets… all legally signed over. You yourself signed the papers. You gave me power of attorney. While you were wasting in your sick-bed, it was me who had to make all the decisions. It didn’t bother you then, and now there is nothing you can do, unless you want to broadcast to the world how your own judgement was sadly impaired. Of course, everyone knows you gave up your place at the helm a long time ago. Be careful, Richard! If I thought you were a real threat, you know I would stop at nothing to discredit you.’
Tilly Mulliver had been shocked by the revelations, but she was also delighted that Richard was incensed enough to raise his voice in such anger. At last, at long last, he had seen his scheming wife for what she really was. Now, though, his voice was strangely quiet. ‘I hope you appreciate the seriousness of what you’re saying?’
‘No! It’s you who needs to know the seriousness of what I’m saying, Richard. This house and certain parcels of land acquired by me while you were indisposed… they’re all in my name.’ She paused, allowing him to digest the information. ‘No doubt if you had made a speedier recovery, I might not have enjoyed such a free hand; but then, your illness was prolonged by your feverish attack of conscience with regard to your precious daughter! In spite of the fact that you turned her away, I was afraid that your love and devotion to her might make you forget how she had shamed you. I don’t forget how often you have threatened to throw Ben on to the streets; knowing full well that if he went, I would go with him. When I saw the opportunity to strengthen my own position and lay claim to that which rightfully belonged to me, I brought you the papers, and, being the trusting fellow you are, you made no bones about signing them. Of course, you never did read the small print. Believe me, Richard, there is no court in the land that would believe you did not know what you were signing. After all, it wasn’t your mind that was ill, was it? Now, you would not want such a thing bandied about, would you?’
‘So you’re adding forgery to your many other dubious talents.’ The calmness of his voice belied the cold fury inside him. He had been all kinds of fool. And yet he did not blame her. There was no one to blame but himself. Now he knew the real extent of her cunning, he was on his guard, his mind searching for a way out of what was a very dangerous situation. Knowing Esther, she would have executed the whole devious scheme with the utmost care. He realised with a sense of desperation that he would have to be twice as cunning as his wife if he was to recover that which she had taken from him. Paramount in his mind was the thought of his daughter. Even so, Beth had shamed herself and brought the family name into disrepute. He could not forget that.
‘Forgery! Oh, dear me, no. Certainly not forgery. As I say… you yourself signed the papers.’
‘Then, of course, I did not know what I was signing.’
‘That I can’t deny. But don’t reprimand yourself too much, my dear. After all, you really were quite ill for a long time. I must admit, it was rather cruel of me to take advantage of your amiable nature. But then, if I had waited until you had your full wits about you, you might have realised my intention and signed the house over to your daughter and her bastard.’
‘Beth was wrong in what she did, I won’t deny that, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive her. But whatever she is guilty of… she can never sink to your level. Remember that. Remember this also: you had better enjoy your little triumphs while you can… because they won’t last long. You have my word on it.’
‘Do your worst. It can only amount to nothing.’
As the cruel words died away, there came the sound of a door slamming, followed by Esther’s tinkling laughter and the spiteful jibe: ‘I can’t abide you near me. You’ve forgotten how to be a man, Richard. Do you hear me? I was a woman today! For the first time in years… I was made to feel like a woman. You’re nothing to me. NOTHING!’
Unable to sleep, Tilly got from her bed. She put on her robe, lit the candle and went on tip-toe down the back stairs and into the kitchen. Realising that she would probably be dismissed on the spot if Esther should discover her, she closeted herself in the pantry and proceeded to pour herself a glass of sarsaparilla from the big earthenware jug there. Still incensed by what she had heard earlier, she began mentally planning a short journey for the morrow. Bad things had taken place here this night. Things that she must not keep to herself. Above her, in Richard’s bedroom, she could hear the slow deliberate footsteps striding heavily back and forth across the floor. ‘Oh, Richard, why ever did you stay with such a woman?’ she murmured. But then she knew why, didn’t she? It always came back to his daughter. Beth, who was conceived in love, born in shame, and raised in jealousy and resentment. ‘Wherever you are now, Beth, I hope you never know your father’s unhappiness. I pray you’ve found a deal of contentment with your young man,’ she murmured kindly.
Suddenly there was movement in the hallway; whispering voices and soft footsteps. Blowing out the candle, Tilly crept to the kitchen door and gingerly opened it. The lamps were still burning either side of the front vestibule. Esther’s slight figure could be seen coming furtively through the door and into the recess. There was a man leaning heavily on her arm; the man was Ben and, as usual, he was the worse for drink. As they neared her hiding place, Tilly shrank back into the shadows.
Esther’s voice was scathing. ‘You fool! He might have heard you. When will you realise that everything we have is at stake? Time and again you’ve promised not to drink, not to gamble, and still you waste yourself. Look at you!’ From her hiding place, Tilly saw the dark spreading patch that ran down his collar. It was not the first time he had come home covered in blood. ‘Oh, you fool, Ben! You fool! One of these days you’ll get yourself killed,’ his mother cried. As she passed beneath the wall-lamp, Esther glanced up the staircase, her face drained white and haggard. ‘It’s all for you,’ she whispered to her son. ‘All of it. All the lying and scheming, all for you. You’re the only worthwhile thing in my life. Beth never belonged here with us. All of this is yours by right, and I won’t let you throw it all away. I’ll make a man of you yet.’ Here her voice fell lower, taking on an edge that frightened the listening woman. ‘I swear I’ll make a man of you yet. Or kill you with my bare hands!’
‘I saw him again tonight.’ He pushed her away, but quickly clung to her again when he almost lost his balance.
‘Who? Who did you see tonight?’ She was obviously humouring him, anxious to get him safely into the sitting room.
‘Blacklock… Tyler Blacklock.’ He laughed, a quiet cruel sound. ‘The fool asked me about Beth.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘Oh, don’t worry. I told him how deliriously happy she was.’ ‘So, Blacklock still believes her to be married and living the good life? He still doesn’t know that her father turned her out? Presumably he doesn’t even know that Beth was carrying his child?’ The idea amused her. ‘You’re quite certain you said nothing that might make him suspect?’
‘What do you take me for?’ He lurched against her, flinging both his arms round her scrawny neck. ‘You old bitch,’ he mumbled. ‘You enjoy these rotten little games, don’t you, eh? I’m glad I told you now… it’s worth it just to see the look on your face.’ He drew her to a stop and swung her round so he could see her face in the half-light. ‘You hate Beth, don’t you? You’ve always hated her. I remember when me and her were kids. Even when it was me that was in the wrong, you’d always blame her… punish her… shut her away in the cellar or the attic. Why? It’s always puzzled me. Why do you hate her so much?’
‘Shut up
, you drunken idiot!’ Unknowingly, he had touched a raw nerve. Thrusting his hands from her shoulders and threading her arm round his waist, she urged him on. ‘If he hears us, we’ll both follow Beth on to the streets and that’s a fact.’ She had not told Ben that the house was now in her name. Knowing his weakness for cards and drink, she thought it wiser to keep such information to herself.
He allowed her gently to propel him towards the sitting room, all the while murmuring, ‘Always puzzled me… always puzzled me.’
‘Don’t let it bother you, son. She’s not worth a second thought. She’s no good, and never has been.’ Her instincts told her that Ben was suffering a pang of conscience with regard to his part in this little deception. It wouldn’t do for him to reveal the truth to Tyler Blacklock, because then that young man would no doubt turn heaven and earth upside down to find his sweetheart. He was eligible too, and well on his way to being rich. The thought of Beth having both the man she loved and an easy life was too disturbing.
‘Well, it’s too late now anyway.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Tyler’s got himself a woman. He was at the club with her. Talking about wedding bells, she was. Nice enough creature, I suppose – leggy, dark hair. But she doesn’t hold a candle to Beth.’ He stopped again, leaning heavily on her arm, his voice low and tearful. ‘I’m drunk, Mother,’ he said, ‘but I know what I’ve done. And I can’t help but wonder whether Beth’s all right.’
‘Well, you’d better stop wondering about her, and start wondering about yourself. Things can’t go on the way they are. I won’t put up with it, I tell you. The business is going downhill fast, and things are even worse between me and your father. You’re no use to me the way you are. I’ve warned you before, Ben, either you stop keeping bad company, or…’
Don’t Cry Alone Page 23