by Diane Allen
‘Gerald, behave yourself! What would Faulks think if he walked in? Besides, they have been wonderful to me since Nancy and Will died; they’ve always been there for me.’
‘To hell with them. I’ll kiss you when I want. You’re mine now and I want everyone to know it.’ Gerald’s dark eyes flashed as he held Alice tight and kissed her more firmly. ‘Tonight you’ll sleep with me. I’ve needed company for so long.’
‘Gerald, I can’t, it wouldn’t be right. This was supposed to be my wedding night, in case you’ve forgotten.’ Alice was horrified. ‘We need to take things slower, do this the right way.’
‘Nonsense. Just pretend it is your wedding night, that I’m your husband. I assure you I won’t be as disappointing as your farm boy.’
Gerald released Alice when the nursemaid knocked on the door and entered the study carrying Baby Alice in her arms.
‘So this is my niece.’ Gerald peered over the cream lace blankets at the dark-haired baby.
‘Would you like to hold her, sir?’ The portly nursemaid offered the gurgling baby for him to hold.
‘Oh my God, no. Babies are for women. You won’t catch me holding one. Is she perfect? Nothing wrong with her? Is she showing signs of having all her faculties?’
‘She’s perfect, sir. Aren’t you, my little angel?’ The nurse tickled under Baby Alice’s chin, making her smile and blow bubbles.
‘Good, good, I’m glad to hear that. I was worried, you know. You can’t be too sure. Er, now I’ve returned and Miss Alice is to be my bride, I’m afraid I won’t have need of your services.’ He looked at the distraught nursemaid and then at Alice. ‘Of course, I will pay you to the end of the week, and then Miss Alice will take charge of your ward.’
The nursemaid fought back tears. She had been so contented looking after the beautiful little girl and it had given her a purpose in her life, but now she was without a home and pay.
‘Thank you, sir. I’ll pack my bags and be gone by Friday.’ She curtsied with the baby still in her arms and left the room.
‘Gerald, that was hard. Of course I’ll be glad to look after Alice, but an extra pair of hands would be useful around the place.’ Alice frowned, wondering what was going on in Gerald’s mind.
‘We don’t want a nursemaid wandering around the place. Besides, she isn’t exactly an oil painting – a bit dour in that black dress.’
‘She’s just lost her husband: he was killed at the Somme. I thought you’d be more understanding of a war widow who was trying to make a living.’ Alice turned and stared at Gerald. Even in the few hours that she had been with him she’d realized that he’d changed since he’d come home from the war.
‘She’ll make a living somewhere else. Now, where is that blasted Faulks with our tea? I could have made it myself at this rate.’ Gerald stormed out of the study in pursuit of his elusive cup of tea, shouting for Faulks as he crossed the hallway.
Alice flopped into her chair. Had she done right? She did love him, but she wanted to take things more slowly, not be bedded on the first night of his return. Perhaps she could talk him out of it. Besides, her mind would only keep wandering to thoughts of Jack; after all, it was his bed she was meant to be in. Poor Jack, he’d been a good friend and always would be. She only hoped that he’d forgive her for the way she felt about Gerald. He had to be the one: he had the looks, the charisma and most of all the money – what else could a girl want?
Gerald sat in his study before retiring to his bed. Will was dead, likewise Nancy. Leaving just Alice, his flight of fancy, the one he had to have. Just why he had become obsessed with her when he was in the trenches, he could not understand. A waiflike commoner, yet she’d been the fantasy that had kept him alive through the fighting. What a sight she’d looked, marrying that oaf of a farmer. Gerald swilled the last dregs of brandy around his glass and smiled. He’d enjoy bedding her. The ever-willing Alice was waiting and he could resist no longer.
Alice lay back beneath the crisp sheets of the master bed, the morning’s sun shining through the windows and an early visitor of a swallow was tweeting outside. She sighed and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, feeling the warm imprint of where Gerald had lain. It had been a night of lust and passion, neither of them holding back their hunger for sex. Alice had soon forgetten that she should have been in the arms of Jack as the experienced hands of Gerald held and caressed her most intimate parts, making her feel more pleasure than she ever had in the hands of a man. At first she’d been frightened, remembering the feeble fumblings of Old Todd and the aggression Uriah Woodhead had shown her when she was raped in the bedroom of the Moon, but these memories had all faded into insignificance as Gerald held her close and spoke his words of magic.
He must have woken early and crept out of the bedroom; it was still well before six and the manor was silent. Alice sat on the edge of the bed looking at herself in the full-length mirror for a moment, then pulled her dressing gown around her. On her way to the bathroom she saw Gerald in his nightshirt, leaning over the baby’s cot in the adjacent bedroom. Not a sound did either of them make; he was just staring at the sleeping baby. She walked into the room behind him and slipped her arms around his waist.
‘Penny for them?’ Alice smiled and kissed him behind his ear.
‘What’s that? What did you say?’ Gerald spun round and faced her. ‘Don’t you ever sneak up on me again.’
‘I only meant a penny for your thoughts. You looked so intent as you stared at little Alice. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’ Alice loosened her grip as Gerald turned back to the sleeping baby.
‘I thought I heard her screaming, but she’s asleep. I must have been dreaming. Do you think she’s all right, Alice? She isn’t showing signs of being like her mother, is she? I worry for her.’
‘Don’t be silly – she’s perfect in every way. She’s got her mother’s good looks with that mop of black hair, but she’s as bright as a button.’ Alice stroked the sleeping baby’s cheek and linked her arm into Gerald’s. ‘Come on, come back to bed. Mrs Dowbiggin’s beginning to stir and here’s us in our nightclothes.’
‘No, I’m getting up. I need to have a ride around my land before breakfast, see what’s been going on while I’ve been away. So stop tempting me, woman, I’ve things to do . . . but tonight is another matter.’ He slapped Alice firmly on her buttocks and chased her back to his bedroom. Then he quickly got dressed and set off, slamming the front door behind him.
Alice lay in bed listening to the horse’s hooves clattering across the gravel and down the rough path. She’d got her man and a family. For the first time in her life she felt content; this was where she belonged, warm and secure in the fine bedlinen of the manor with the sun shining through the windows and breakfast being prepared just for her. Life couldn’t get any better.
‘Well, I don’t know what on earth he’s thinking about. He must have lost his senses – and she hers: fancy sleeping with another man on what should have been your wedding night! As for him, he’s only having his bit of fun.’ Mrs Dowbiggin was turning the spitting bacon in the huge frying pan as she shouted to Faulks, without realizing Alice had appeared in the room.
Faulks’s muffled cough made her aware of Alice’s presence.
‘Please don’t stop on my account,’ said Alice. ‘You’re entitled to your opinions. But let me make one thing clear: Gerald and I are to be married, so you will soon have to give me some respect as I will be the lady of the house.’ Alice turned, her skirts rustling as she marched out of the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, ‘I’ll have my breakfast in the study, please, Faulks. Master Gerald’s gone out on his horse and he may be some time.’
Alice was angry. How dare they gossip about her as if she wasn’t there? She’d show them. She’d ask Gerald for an engagement ring and then they’d know he was serious. Maybe that would make them respect her.
‘Mrs Dowbiggin didn’t mean any harm, Alice. We both think a great deal of you. She was only trying to protect you. You see, we know
Master Gerald, and he has always been hasty in his actions, especially when he sees someone else getting something he wants.’ Faulks put the tray down next to Alice as she looked out of the window.
Alice was still angry as Faulks made his apology. ‘That’s just it, Faulks: he wants me and he is to marry me. Tell Mrs Dowbiggin I need to see her. We’ll start talking about wedding plans this afternoon. I’m sure Gerald will agree. I think Midsummer Day will be ideal, don’t you, Faulks? That is my birthday, after all.’
‘I’m sure it will be ideal, Miss Alice. And once again I’m sorry if we were talking out of turn. I’ll tell Mrs Dowbiggin to start thinking of some plans for your wedding day.’
He closed the door firmly behind him, leaving Alice playing with her scrambled egg like a sulking toddler, pushing it around the plate, uninterested in eating it. She would have the perfect wedding. He did love her – it was so obvious to her. Why could no one else see it?
It was nearly noon before Gerald arrived back at the manor. Alice had been wearing the carpet thin pacing up and down the study, preparing her instructions for Mrs Dowbiggin and her questions for Gerald.
‘Gerald, you’ve been ages. I’ve been counting every minute.’ Alice rushed to his side as he entered the study.
He poured himself a drink and sat down heavily in his chair. ‘Bloody hard morning, Alice. I’ve called in at my lettings – nearly all of them have a lad missing or still over there fighting. I feel a fraud being discharged and back in my old life. You know half of them could have stopped at home; all they had to do was say they were needed by their fathers to keep the farms going. But instead they’ve chosen to fight. And for what? A bloody government that’s using them for cannon fodder.’ He swigged the last of his port and rose to pour himself another.
‘I’ll ask Mrs Dowbiggin to make us some lunch. You’ll feel better once you’ve eaten.’
‘Better? You think a bit of lunch is all it will take to make me feel better? Nothing’s going to make me feel better, stop me hearing the screams and the faces of the dead, the rats and the squalor of the trenches. Yet here I am, safe and secure, lying to those poor, blissfully ignorant tenants of mine, telling them their sons and brothers will be fine, that they should be proud that they are fighting for their country.’ He swigged his port and idly twisted the glass in his hand.
Frightened, Alice slipped out of the study. Gerald had changed; the war had left its mark on him.
‘Are you all right, Miss Alice?’ Faulks appeared, on his way to the study.
‘Yes, thank you, Faulks. Could you take Master Gerald some lunch, please? And can you tell Mrs Dowbiggin that I won’t need to see her this afternoon? I’ll make it another day. Master Gerald isn’t up to discussing weddings at the moment.’
‘Very well, Miss Alice. Will you be partaking of lunch with Master Gerald?’
‘I won’t, thank you, Faulks. I’m going for a walk.’ Alice thought she detected a smirk on the butler’s face, but she wasn’t going to rise to it. She knew why she’d cancelled and it had nothing to do with servant intervention.
She climbed the stairs and went into the makeshift nursery. Baby Alice was asleep in her nursemaid’s arms.
‘I was hoping to take Alice for a walk. Would that be all right?’ Alice leaned over and kissed Baby Alice on her brow.
‘She’s due for her bottle in half an hour, ma’am. I reckon she’ll scream all the way without her feed. She likes her food, does our Alice.’ The nursemaid smiled at the rosy-cheeked infant as she slept content in her arms.
‘I’m sorry that Master Gerald said we could manage without you. Will you be able to find work elsewhere?’ Alice looked at the nursemaid; she was good at her job.
‘I’ll go back to Sedbergh. I’m sure I’ll find some job in service, or perhaps at the private school there. I will miss this little one, though. She keeps my mind off things.’ She smiled and turned her head to the baby, her eyes filling with tears.
‘I’m sorry. I hope life improves for you.’ Alice pulled the nursery door closed behind her and left the manor. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts; in the last twenty-four hours her world had been turned upside down, and she didn’t quite know what was going to hit her next.
29
Alice looked at the empty space next to her. The sheets and pillow were uncrumpled: Gerald’s side of the bed had not been slept in. Hugging her pillow, she gazed at Baby Alice sleeping in her cot, blissfully unaware of her namesake’s worries.
Three months had passed since his return from the front; three months of turmoil, getting to know the new Gerald with his moods and temper tantrums. At first, Alice had put it down to the fact he was still recovering from the horrors of war, but now she was worried. He no longer looked at her in the way he had done that day in the church. She felt he was bored with her already, and all talk of an engagement or wedding had long since been forgotten. She was his nursemaid and easy lover, the one who kept his bed warm when he was not out gambling with his so-called friends or drinking and womanizing. Mrs Dowbiggin and Faulks must have seen how things were, but they said nothing, keeping their heads down and getting on with their jobs as if his behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary. How wrong she had been to think that he loved her. He’d wanted her, but that’s all it was. There was no love there. She should have known that; after all, she’d been warned by just about everyone.
A tear trickled down her cheek. To think she’d let Jack walk away from her for this cad. Once again she’d ended up being used, all for the sake of trying to better herself and for trying to keep Baby Alice close to her. Better to have no home at all than be treated like a prostitute. What was it that made men look at her in that way? Did she have ‘Tart’ written across her forehead, invisible to women but there to be seen by all men? She sniffed and controlled her tears as she heard the front door go and Gerald swearing as he took his riding boots off in the hallway before making his way up the stairs and into bed.
‘You still here? God, I thought you’d be long gone.’ He slurred his words as he lunged across the bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Mumbling and smelling of drink, still dressed in his clothes, his breeches covered with mud from riding, he pulled the bedcovers over him.
Outside Alice could hear his horse pawing the gravel. The poor creature, he hadn’t even unsaddled and stabled it before coming indoors. Jack would have seen to it if he’d still been employed at the manor, but since the onset of war he’d only worked for himself and his father. Alice lay still until she heard him snoring; then she quietly rose and dressed before picking the sleeping baby up in her arms and going downstairs. Placing the still-slumbering baby on the large sofa in the drawing room, she arranged the cushions to stop her from falling on the floor, and then went outside to unsaddle the distressed horse. The sun was shining, but there was a slight hint of autumn frost in the air with the early morning mists clinging to the river in the valley below.
‘Shh, now. What a state you’re in. He must have ridden you like the devil.’ She approached the sweat-flecked horse, whispering softly as she took hold of the harness and stroked it on its neck. Once it was calm, she began leading it in the direction of the stables.
‘I’ll take that for you, Miss Alice. It isn’t a job for a lady.’ Faulks appeared out of the kitchen door and came towards them with his hand outstretched. ‘I thought I heard the master return. I can’t believe he’d leave his horse in this state. He used to be such a proud horseman.’ The butler shook his head as he took control of the reins. ‘Mrs Dowbiggin’s got the kettle on, if you want to join us for an early morning cuppa.’
Alice nodded and, leaving him to take the horse into the stables, headed back to the drawing room to check on Baby Alice before joining the housekeeper in the kitchen.
Mrs Dowbiggin was still in her flannelette nightie and dressing gown, her long grey, thinning hair in cotton rags to give it a bit of curl.
‘Oh my Lord – Miss Alice, I didn’t expect you in the kitchen at th
is hour. Look at me, I’m not even dressed. What will you think of me?’
‘Don’t worry, Mrs Dowbiggin. I’m only glad you’re up and that the fire’s going. It’s cold out there. Faulks says there’s tea on the go. Is it all right if I join you?’
‘Don’t be silly, lass, you don’t have to ask. Here, sit yourself down and I’ll get you a cup. It’s been a while since you’ve sat in here with us. I must say, I’ve missed your company. I don’t get much out of old Faulks nowadays.’
Alice sighed and gazed into the fire, silently clasping the cup in her hands as Mrs Dowbiggin busied herself in the kitchen.
‘You look troubled, Alice. What’s wrong? Do you want to tell me? If not, just say I’m to mind my own business.’
‘I can’t tell you . . . You all warned me, but I thought he loved me. I thought I was the only one and I was besotted. I’ve been such a fool!’ Alice hid her head in her hands, tears dripping through her closed fingers.
‘Now then, pet, you were only trying to better yourself, and I don’t blame you for that. But even before Master Gerald went to war, he used to play games with young women. Yours won’t be the first heart he’s broken.’ Mrs Dowbiggin put her arms around her and held her tight. ‘Just make the best of it, lass. At least you’ve got a roof over your head and you’re well fed. Baby Alice needs a mother and you are all she’s got, because her uncle never looks at her twice. Poor little thing – no mother or father, and an uncle who doesn’t have the time of day for her. If I were you, I’d tell him that you are moving into the spare bedroom with her because she’s teething. He won’t mind – he’s coming home drunk most nights anyway. And it’ll give you a bit of peace for a night or two.’ Mrs Dowbiggin squeezed Alice, hugging her extra tight. ‘There, I’d better get dressed before Faulks comes back in. You sit there and have your tea. I’ll pop in and see if Alice is still asleep.’ The old housekeeper bustled out of the kitchen shaking her head. She’d known it would all end in tears, but there was no telling a lass when she was head over heels in love.