Sea Mistress

by Iris Gower

  Paul had returned home yesterday and he seemed to glow with an inner satisfaction that she failed to understand. It wasn’t only that he was indulging in an affair and was returning from his lady love, no, there was something more going on in his life, something that was making him less dependent on her but what was it?

  She looked over to the side of the bed where he’d lain, cold and unresponsive, the night before. It was now empty, his pillow still marked with the line of his head. Bitter fury flowed through her as she recalled her humiliating failure to arouse him. She had tried, how she had tried with every trick she knew to make him want her. At last he had pushed her away, telling her he was tired, he’d hardly slept for the preparations he’d needed to make for the return journey. Anyone would think he was running an enormous fleet of ships the way he went on. It was she who kept the organization of the exports and imports in check, she who made the real money in this family and all for Paul to indulge himself on wasted trips transporting leather goods and fuel blocks.

  It was true he’d made a little money on the cargo but not enough to warrant the time he’d spent over in Ireland. She, on the other hand, had seen to it that large stocks of coal and steel had been safely dealt with and went on their way across deep water.

  Perhaps she had allowed her jealousy of other women to cloud the issue, it was just possible that Paul was up to other sorts of mischief like lining his own pockets. But how? She really couldn’t see any way he could make extra money, especially not on the trifling loads he was exporting across the Irish channel. And yet were these cargos simply a cover for something else? It might be a good idea if she was to check up on her husband’s business activities.

  In the meantime, she would be sweetness and light, pretend there was nothing wrong, allow him to lower his guard. He was a careful man, she had learned that since she had taken to searching through his possessions. He left nothing around by way of paperwork that she could make any use of but there was always his sailing table, that he couldn’t conceal.

  Paul had eaten breakfast, the maid was just clearing his empty plates from the dining table when Bridie let herself into the room.

  ‘Bring me a pot of tea and a little dry toast,’ Bridie ordered, scarcely looking at the girl as she moved to the long windows and stared out into the garden.

  He was there, her husband, strong and handsome in the bright sunshine, his hair curling around his forehead as he bent to talk to the gardener.

  Suddenly, Bridie felt faint, she clutched the back of one of the heavy dining chairs and sank down, her face in her hands.

  ‘Are you all right, Mrs Marchant?’ The maid’s anxious voice penetrated the haze that was settling over Bridie’s mind.

  ‘Water, bring me some water.’ She fought to control the darkness that was flooding over her. The maid took an eternity to return and when she did she had Collins with her. The butler bent over Bridie holding the glass to her lips, coaxing her to drink. ‘Come along, Mrs Marchant, you are going to be all right. Just a little fainting spell, natural enough in this heat.’

  The mists cleared a little and Bridie sank back in her chair in relief. ‘I’m all right now,’ she opened her eyes, ‘thank you Collins. Send someone to fetch the master in from the garden will you?’

  Bridie felt her stomach turn over at the sight of the greasy kidney dish on the sideboard. The queasiness was familiar enough to her and she bit her lip in consternation.

  Paul came into the room, his face showing concern and she was warmed for a moment. Perhaps this might, just might, be a good thing to have happened, it could be the means of bringing them closer again.

  ‘Paul,’ she said, ‘sit down and hold my hand.’

  He obediently sat and took her hand, leaning forward in his chair. ‘The servant said you were unwell, what is it, Bridie, tell me?’

  ‘It’s nothing to worry about, Paul, indeed, I think it might well be cause for celebrating. I believe I’m going to have another baby.’

  A mixture of emotions chased across his face, Paul seemed to be assessing the situation, considering just what it might mean for himself. He smiled.

  ‘I’m happy, my clever girl,’ he said softly, ‘but you must promise me that you will take things easy now, look after yourself, I insist on it.’ He paused but only for a fraction of a moment. ‘You must take care of yourself, no more travelling, understand me?’

  Oh, she understood, she knew then what her condition meant to Paul and a bitterness filled her mouth. What she was holding out to her husband was not a concrete reason for them to be together, what she had given him unreservedly was his freedom.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘You are seeing a great deal of this Daniel Bennett aren’t you?’ The voice, harsh, condemning, broke the hushed silence of the parlour where Ellie had been ensconced since breakfast time trying to make sense of Jubilee’s books. She looked up sharply to see Matthew Hewson standing in the doorway, his apron slung low around his hips, his cap pushed to the back of his head so that the black hair sprung upwards in waves.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ She spoke as calmly as her sense of outrage would allow. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘This man, this pup reporter, he’s been here again today, hasn’t he?’

  Ellie put down her pen and rose to her feet trying to appear much stronger than she felt. She could not allow Matthew to dictate to her, who did he think he was?

  ‘And do I have to answer to you then, Matthew?’ She spoke in deceptively soft tones and Matthew emboldened by her apparent docility was encouraged.

  ‘It’s not good enough. You see Ellie, you are encouraging this little snob of a reporter, he’ll think he can get a foot in here if you don’t watch him.’

  He stared down at her so sure of himself that Ellie realized she would have to take strong steps to put him in his place. She took a deep breath but Matthew continued speaking almost at once. ‘People will start to gossip about you, you don’t want to besmirch old Jubilee’s good name do you?’

  Ellie clenched her hands together feeling the nails bite into the flesh of her palms. ‘Be silent, Matthew, are you my keeper suddenly?’ The sharpness of her anger penetrated Matthew’s consciousness and he lifted his head defensively.

  ‘I’m only thinking of you, what will people make of you, a widow, entertaining a caller?’

  Ellie was so angry she felt like dismissing him on the spot. She told herself to be calm, knowing her own guilt was telling her that he had a point. Still, it was high time she put a stop to his proprietary attitude towards her, she wanted nothing to do with him. He was alienating her so much that she was past feeling guilty about the shares Jubilee had promised him. She was also past exercising tact, it was time Matthew was put firmly in his place.

  ‘Do you wish to continue working here?’ The question caught him off guard.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean what I say, do you wish to keep your position at Glyn Hir, your generous wages, your position as chief hand? I think you’ll admit that you are better off now than you’ve ever been.’

  ‘Aye, well not so well off as I’d expected to be.’ Matthew’s brows were drawn together in an angry line.

  ‘Nevertheless, you are making a very good living, I assume it’s one you value. If so, you had better watch your manners, I’m quickly coming to the point of losing all patience with you. For two pins I’d dispense with your services, get rid of you once and for all, I can do without this constant battling with you, listening to you whine about your lot, what makes you think that I owe you anything? It was Jubilee who spoke to you of shares, it was nothing to do with me, if you remember?’ She saw him struggle with his anger, a mixture of emotions shadowed his face and then, common sense asserted itself.

  ‘I’m only thinking of you, Ellie,’ he was smiling now, his eyes, though, were hooded. ‘I know Jubilee wanted me to look out for you, watch no-one moved in his carpet slippers and pipe to take his place.’

  ‘No-one wil
l ever take Jubilee’s place so you can just stop thinking about me,’ Ellie said. ‘I am a sensible woman, I’ve had to be. You forget, I have expert advisers so I don’t need your interference.’

  She had launched into a tirade now that seemed impossible to stop. ‘I am more than adequately chaperoned whenever I go out, more so than most women these days so who is going to talk about me? It is you who are jeopardizing my reputation by your habit of barging into my house whenever you see fit. You are a workman here, nothing more, have I made myself clear?’

  Matthew was less sure of himself now and Ellie made the fatal mistake of softening towards him. She held out her hand in a gesture of reconciliation. ‘Can’t we just be friends, Matthew?’ she said. ‘There’s no need for us to fight, is there?’

  He came towards her and took her hand and Ellie smiled up at him. Before she had time to think, he had pulled her roughly into his arms and was kissing her mouth, his tongue probing, his hands gripping her waist. She felt his teeth against hers, felt his hands move upwards towards her breasts. She felt only revulsion at his brash approach.

  She pushed him away, her eyes hot with anger. ‘How could you insult me and the memory of Jubilee by doing such a vile thing?’ She was shaking with distaste. ‘Must I spell it out for you, Matthew? I don’t even like you, try to get that through your thick skull, will you?’

  ‘It’s early days yet, you could grow to like me,’ Matthew said quickly. ‘I think you are a wonderful woman and I apologize for being so hasty, I just couldn’t help it, seeing you standing there so pretty and sweet and helpless, like.’

  ‘I am not helpless,’ Ellie was exasperated. ‘Let me tell you this, if you come into my house again without an invitation I’ll have you sacked, I’ll have the constables up here if necessary and you’ll be out of here so fast your feet won’t touch the ground.’

  ‘Nice talk for a lady,’ Matthew was growing angry again, asserting the manly authority he believed was his prerogative. In any event, he wasn’t used to being rebuffed. ‘You are turning into a shrew, Ellie, do you know that? You are a woman alone, I was only trying to be kind.’

  ‘I’m too much of a lady to want your brand of kindness, I don’t want you to touch me, I don’t want you to even come near me again.’

  Matthew’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘You might act the fine lady but we both know different don’t we? You are far from being a lady. Oh, you think you’re the high and mighty mistress of the Glyn Hir now but I remember you was the talk of Swansea before Jubilee made a respectable wife of you. Brought bastard children into the world, you did, so don’t come all holy and good with me because it won’t wash, some men wouldn’t touch you with a bargepole, wouldn’t want shop-soiled goods at any price.’

  Ellie was stung. ‘I might be all you say I am but I still have some taste. I find you repellant, I would remain a widow all my life if you were the only alternative.’

  ‘You bitch!’ his voice was low, Well don’t you try to get rid of me, I’m warning you, you’d regret it.’ He turned and left the room and Ellie sank into her chair, her hands trembling, she clasped them together in an effort to control them. She wished she could have avoided an out and out confrontation with Matthew, he would not make a good enemy. Still, it was too late to think of that now.

  She sat for a long time, staring unseeingly into the cold fireplace. How she missed Jubilee, his sound common sense, his unconditional love. If he had foreseen the trouble Matthew would cause, he would have thrown the man out himself.

  After a time, she composed herself and looked down at the books on the table beside her, the figures swam together making no sense, it was useless trying to concentrate. But profits were good, Caradoc Jones had assured her of that, she had no need to worry on that score.

  She was glad she had asked Caradoc to recommend a manager for the mill; once someone suitable was found, she would be able to take a back seat in the day to day affairs of the tannery. She would be able to keep right away from Matthew and his venomous words. Words he would soon he spreading around Swansea, reviving old scandals, raking up the past. Perhaps she should go to see Calvin Temple, warn him of what might happen, perhaps he could find a way of keeping Matthew’s mouth firmly shut. If it was money Matthew desired, Calvin certainly had enough of that, more than he would ever spend in a lifetime. If even Calvin failed to stop Matthew’s tongue then she would just have to face the consequences, face the sneers, the cold-shouldering of the townspeople. Not even Daniel, kind and loyal as he was, not even he would wish to be seen out with her if he should learn the truth.

  Unhappiness swept over her, she put her hands to her face and felt the tears’ salt in her mouth. It seemed she was destined never to love again. But this was a foolishness, she must stop feeling sorry for herself, she should count her blessings, she had Martha’s company and Rosie was a more than willing worker. Still, Ellie needed a change, to get right away from Glyn Hir at least for a time.

  It might do her good to take a room down near the sea front for a few weeks, at least it would give her a breathing space. And she would be distanced from Matthew Hewson, allowing him to cool down, perhaps he would even come to see where his best interests lay. She remembered then the harshness in his face as he’d looked at her and quite suddenly she felt cold.

  ‘Come on, give me a roll in the hay,’ Rosie smiled up into Matthew’s glowering face, ‘might improve your temper, you look as if you’ve swallowed a whole cut-throat razor handle an’ all.’ They were walking along the lane at the back of Glyn Hir, a short way from the stink of the tannery. Rosie should have been down at the market buying fresh meat and cheese but she hadn’t been able to resist spending some time with Matthew.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ he said and then, as though changing his mind, he turned to her and took her in his arms. ‘I’ll see you tonight, we’ll have a good time, go down the public for a mug of ale and a singsong. Afterwards, we’ll roll in the hay as much as you like.’

  Happiness flared through Rosie, singing in her blood; she had succeeded in breaking the foul mood that had gripped him lately, made him aware of her again. All he seemed to think about these days was those damned shares that Jubilee had promised him.

  ‘Look love,’ she said touching his lips with her fingertips, ‘I know you want to get some of old Jubilee’s money, well there’s more than one way of skinning a cat, mind.’

  She had his interest then and she smiled, catching his arm, hugging it to herself.

  ‘How do you mean?’ He was frowning, poor lad, he really wasn’t very bright.

  ‘Watch and wait, my boy, what you can’t have by coaxing, you might be able to get by other means.’

  He stopped walking. ‘There’s no way of fiddling the books, there’s too many hands on them for that.’

  ‘Not talking about fiddling, Mat, I’m talking about getting what you want in exchange for keeping your mouth shut.’

  ‘My mouth shut about what? Everyone in town knows Ellie’s past; she wouldn’t want it raked up again, wouldn’t want that poncy reporter to learn of it but on the other hand, I can’t hold no threats of that over her can I?

  ‘But there might be other things you can use and I’m in the house aren’t I, I’m the one to see all that goes on. She’s nice enough telling me to call her Ellie and that but she’s a bit uppity. And she takes too much of your time for my liking.’ Rosie’s tone was dry, ‘She’s the type who likes to get a ring on her finger before she gives anything away, holding out for marriage she is, learnt her lesson well that it don’t do to be a mistress. Well she can’t have you, I’m not willing, see.’

  It had crossed Matthew’s mind that Ellie wanted marriage and even though she’d protested otherwise, Ellie was the sort to want a ring on her finger. What couldn’t be got by coaxing might be managed by persuasion. It wouldn’t do any harm to encourage Rosie to spy on Ellie, though he doubted she’d find out anything.

  ‘You won’t catch her playing around,’ he said. ‘Miss I
ron Drawers, Miss Icicle, that’s Ellie Hopkins. Hasn’t she lived long enough without a man? Dried up she has, don’t need a man between her legs, not like some.’

  ‘Ah, say you don’t know, I’ve seen the way she looks at that young reporter chap, makes cow’s eyes at him she does and him at her, too. They’ll be in the sheets before long, mark my words.’

  Matthew suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth, he didn’t like another man to succeed where he had failed. ‘How do you make that out?’ His tone was abrupt.

  ‘As you said, she’s been without a long time and her only human, she’s proved that. Duw, wasn’t she put up the spout by that posh lover of hers, had two poor little by-blows that died, didn’t she? Not exactly made for going without I’d say.’

  Anger filled Matthew as he imagined Daniel Bennett stealing his prize; getting Ellie into bed and getting his hands on her money at the same time. Not that Matthew really wanted Ellie for a wife but marriage to her had its compensations. She would provide him with money and control of the tannery and he would teach her how to have a good time. Ellie Hopkins didn’t seem the sort to give a man a good time in bed, too thin in the breast, nothing to get your hands around there. He glanced down at Rosie’s straining blouse and he wanted her. Then.

  He thrust her against the hedge and pushed up her skirts. She moaned and shifted herself to accommodate him and he took her without preliminary, thrusting into her, feeling the hotness of her nipple between his lips as he toiled against her.

  The sun was hot on his back, explosions of sensation rocked through him and then it was over.

  Rosie slipped to the ground as he released her, she caught his trousers which were around his ankles. ‘Come down here, boy, let me show you how to do it properly.’

  Nothing loath, he slumped down beside her. Her experienced hands were rousing him to fresh delights. He stretched out his strong legs and then Rosie was astride him.

  Her cries rent the air and he laughed out loud, he knew how to give a woman a good time if anybody did. She reached her climax as quickly as he did and together they lay, laughing up into the face of the sun with the fresh scent of the grass around them and the birdsong echoing sweetly between the trees.