by Iris Gower
In a quick movement, he rose and stood in the doorway of his mean workshop. Across the small distance that was the back yard, Eline looked up and met his eyes. She smiled and Will felt his blood flow faster. Would he never cease to want this woman who slept in his bed, who held his son at her breast but who was wife to another man?
He left his work, crossed the cold yard in a few quick strides and moved into the warmth of the room where was all he held dear in the world.
He knelt on the floor and leaned forward, his lips longing to feel her mouth open in passion beneath his. ‘Eline,’ he murmured, ‘I love you.’
He kissed her and his hand brushed her breast, touching lightly the silky head of his son. He wanted to hold them both to him, his woman and his son.
‘Come on now, love,’ Eline spoke softly, ‘stop working, you’ve done enough for today, see, the light is going.’
‘I’ll stop working if you come to bed with me,’ he teased. ‘It’s about time I had some cosseting.’
‘It’s about time you washed the smell of leather from your hands,’ Eline said though her voice was gentle. ‘About time you took your son off my hands so that I could cut some bread and put out the supper.’
He sighed. ‘You are a hard woman Eline, I don’t know why I put up with it.’ He eased the baby from her arms and Eline fastened her bodice but not before William had glimpsed the sweet fullness of her breast.
He put the baby into the sagging armchair and placed cushions around the child. ‘Sleep now, son, I want to make love to your mother.’
‘No, Will,’ Eline protested but even as she spoke, her eyes were upon him, aware of his arousal. He took her in his arms and drew her against him, his hands slipping from her waist to the firmness of her buttocks. She drew a ragged breath, and with a sense of triumph he knew she wanted him as desperately as he wanted her.
It was a few short steps to the bed and he gently drew her down, stretching himself out beside her. He buried his head against her breasts, and her hands were in his hair, pressing him to her.
He loved her so much that he wanted to possess her every time he looked into her beautiful eyes and saw his desire reflected there.
He took his time, arousing her to the depths of passion he knew she possessed and when he finally joined with her, she gave a shuddering sigh and clung to him as though she was drowning in a beautiful sea of emotion.
Later, Will sat opposite Eline at the small table in the cramped room and watched as she ate delicately, like a dainty bird. She pushed her dish away and then her slim fingers curled in the handle of her cup. Will, looking at the delicate hands now reddened with work, wondered if she missed the skills that she once held so dear.
Eline had been a successful designer, a worker in leather whose talent, genius some might say, had helped her rise to the heights in the shoe-making business. Not only could she fashion the leather but she could draw beautiful designs and create them in masterly style. But now, because of him, she had lost it all.
‘Why are you staring at me like that?’ she asked, a smile curving her lips.
‘Because I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you,’ he said soberly. ‘Eline, the fine house, the luxurious life-style, most of all your work – do you miss it?’
‘Wait here, bachgen,’ she said softly. ‘Let me show you what I’ve been getting up to in between feeding our son and looking after you.’
She went into the tiny scullery and he heard a drawer being opened. Eline returned, her face flushed with excitement and with some sketches held out before her like an offering.
‘I haven’t entirely given up on my ambitions,’ she said. ‘Calvin thought he’d left me with nothing, but he couldn’t take my love of you and neither could he prevent me wanting to design shoes.’
Will looked in amazement at the fine drawings deftly executed. The footwear seemed to spring alive from the paper, bold riding boots intricately tooled side by side with dainty, feminine slippers. He was silent for a long time and Eline sighed heavily. ‘Don’t tell me, I’ve lost it.’
‘Lost it?’ Will said incredulously. ‘My love, you are better than ever. These are fantastic.’ His face softened, ‘Do you realize that the great Hari Grenfell began her business right here, in World’s End?’ He took Eline’s hand and kissed it. ‘I was her apprentice so I know what difficulties she overcame before she was a success and what Hari can do, you can do, my love.’
He smiled as he looked into her eyes, love flowed between them, an almost tangible thing, and Will reached forward, unable to prevent himself from touching Eline’s cheek.
‘I’ll make your designs a reality myself, my lovely, talented lady,’ he said softly.
A shadow passed fleetingly across Eline’s face. ‘I wish you could have said wife.’ She forced a smile. ‘It will come right, won’t it, all of it?’
‘Once your divorce from Temple is over and done with we’ll be married. I can’t wait for that day to come.’
Eline hugged him, resting her cheek on the top of his head.
‘Are you really going to make shoes from my designs?’ Her voice was almost wistful.
‘Of course,’ Will said at once. ‘I’ll sell them, too, just see if I don’t.’
‘How will you do that?’
‘Quite easily,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’ll take a few pairs around with me as samples, show them to my customers. I’m sure to get some orders.’ He paused.
‘I’m glad you haven’t given up on your designs, Eline, and don’t worry, we’ll soon build up a nice little business here, perhaps in a small way at first but it will grow, I’m confident of it. We won’t always be poor. One day I’ll be able to give you everything you could ever want.’
‘I’ve got that already.’ Eline rubbed at her eyes and he saw a tear glint on her lashes. He stood up and put his hands on her waist. ‘Now, how about a bit more of that soup before I get ideas into my head again?’
Eline pushed his hands away in mock anger. ‘You are insatiable, behave yourself William Davies.’ They smiled at each other and Will knew that he would work day and night to make Eline happy.
It was the next morning when Eline woke that her plan of action became clarified in her mind. She would ask her old landlady for help. Mrs Jessop had enjoyed caring for baby William once, she might just be persuaded to look after him again, if just for a short time every day.
Before Will and Eline had set up home together, Eline had been at her wit’s end how to cope with her life. Calvin had thrown her out of their home, had left her with no means of support. She could hardly blame him; she’d hurt and betrayed him, made him look foolish in the eyes of his neighbours. She knew the pain she’d caused Calvin was unforgivable. No wonder he was bitter.
Still, he hadn’t been blameless; he’d left her destitute, she and her son in fear of starving. It was then that Mrs Jessop’s kindness and sound common sense had saved the day.
With the older woman’s help, Eline had found herself a job scrubbing floors at the public bar of the inn across the road from Mrs Jessop’s boarding house. She’d had a room to call her own and Mrs Jessop had treated her like a daughter. Those were the dark days and she hated to remember them. But now, she had Will, she had their child and with a little bit of effort and planning, she could work again. What more could she want?
Mrs Jessop’s pleasure at seeing Eline was gratifying. She held out her arms and welcomed Eline indoors, settling her in the chair in the best parlour, pressing tea and biscuits upon her and all the time with a happy smile on her face.
‘Well then, how are you getting on with that fine young man of yours?’ She took the baby from Eline’s arms and unwrapped him from his shawl, staring down at the small sleeping face with delight.
‘I can never thank you enough for bringing Will and me together, Mrs Jessop,’ Eline said softly. ‘My only regret, if there is one, is that I’m not married to him.’
‘Well you can’t have everything in life, but then, you�
�ve got the most important things so no grumbling, is it?’ Mrs Jessop’s eyebrows were raised. ‘There’s this lovely boy for a start.’
‘I know,’ Eline said, ‘and now I think I’ve found the courage to work at designing again, to try to build up a business so that Will doesn’t have to work himself to death.’ She smiled coaxingly, ‘But I’m going to need your help, Mrs Jessop.’
‘Well if you’re going to ask me to look after this little angel face then don’t give it another thought. I’d take him off your hands any time and pay you for the privilege.’
Eline bit her lip. ‘There’s the problem,’ she said, ‘I can’t pay you anything, at least for a start.’
‘Am I asking for anything? You’d be doing a lonely old lady a favour, mind. When do I start, right away?’
Eline laughed. ‘Why not?’ She flexed her fingers, ‘I’m itching to take up a pencil, I can’t deny it.’
‘Will you go to Mrs Grenfell to sell your shoes?’ Mrs Jessop placed the baby over her shoulder and rubbed at his back and Emlyn pulled at her hair, his eyes wide with curiosity.
Eline shook her head. ‘I’ll be working with Will. Between us we’ll make a new start and enjoy ourselves in the process, I shouldn’t wonder.’
‘Not too much enjoying, mind,’ Mrs Jessop laughed. ‘You don’t need no more babies for a while.’ She settled the baby in her lap and gave him a spoon to play with. ‘No harm in going to the Grenfells or the Millers, mind,’ she said pursuing her train of thought. ‘Big business people them and fine folk too, not toffee-nosed like some with money.’
‘I know,’ Eline said softly, ‘but they move in the same circles as Calvin. They meet him socially and might feel they can’t openly side with his faithless wife. I wouldn’t like to be an embarrassment to anyone.’
‘Tush!’ Mrs Jessop exploded. ‘Where there’s business and money there’s no thought of embarrassment, you surely realize that?’
‘I suppose you’re right,’ Eline said, ‘but no, we’ll go it alone, we’ll make a success of it, you’ll see.’
‘Oh, I don’t doubt it,’ Mrs Jessop said. ‘Right, get off with you, talking never did get the work done.’
It was fascinating for Eline to watch the way Will worked at the leather, bringing her visions, sketched on paper, into real solid shapes and designs. The first design he tackled was a pair of heavy riding boots. They were cut to curve around the calf of the leg with support as well as comfort in mind, and the instep was tooled with a fancy design of spurs and stirrups, a motif repeated around the edge of the boot.
She had given him patterns of several pairs of good stout ladies’ boots in a variety of sizes; boots were a necessity especially on the cold winter days. Her one frivolity was a pair of evening pumps in kid with a plunging ‘V’ shape cut over the toes and with beading running from instep to heel. It took Will days of solid working to accomplish the task she had set him and all the time Eline was worryingly aware of the cobbling work he was leaving undone.
‘I can’t see any working woman wearing those,’ Will said, when at last he held up the finished pumps. They sat in the palms of his big hands, small and elegant and quite insubstantial.
‘These, I presume, you will offer to the fine ladies of the town. They are lovely but they are an extravagance, Eline.’
‘I know,’ Eline said ruefully, ‘practical shoes are more likely to sell but I couldn’t resist just one flight of fancy.’
‘I have a good feeling about them,’ Will said firmly. ‘This pair of pumps is likely to bring you more attention and more custom than any of the other shoes, worthy though they are.’
Eline smiled. ‘It’s good of you to indulge me, Will, but I think I’ll stick to the more practical designs for the time being.’
Will didn’t reply but there was an enigmatic smile on his face that Eline did not fail to notice.
‘What are you up to Will Davies?’ she demanded. He drew her to him and his hand moved to her breast but she pushed him away quickly.
‘None of that, not in working hours. Mrs Jessop wouldn’t approve.’
‘Damn Mrs Jessop,’ Will said amiably. ‘She’s not here, is she?’
He drew her closer again and with a sigh, Eline succumbed, her hands on his face, her eyes shining. ‘I love you Will Davies,’ she said softly.
William’s words proved to be prophetic; the fine pumps sold almost immediately to one of his richer customers. ‘I knew it!’ Will said in triumph. ‘I just knew those pumps would appeal to one of my ladies.’
Eline was sitting at the table, her pencil in her hand, the light from the small window falling on her drawings.
‘Oh, so you have “ladies”, do you?’ Eline said, her hands on her hips, her tone severe. ‘I wonder what else you do with them other than mending their shoes?’
‘Oh, I have my methods of charming the customers, but only the beautiful ones of course,’ Will replied.
He leaned forward and kissed her mouth. ‘Now, stop carping and get on with it.’
‘With what?’ Eline was genuinely puzzled. Will slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her to her feet.
‘Now don’t look so appealing or you won’t be getting on with anything except looking after your man properly.’
Eline pushed him away, frowning. ‘Stop your teasing and tell me what you are talking about: get on with what?’
‘Oh, didn’t I tell you?’ Will said innocently. ‘Mrs Walter Rogers wishes for several more pairs of pumps and a new pair of riding boots as well.’ He winked ‘Her lover bought the fancy riding boots and now Mrs Rogers wants a pair just like them. But we mustn’t tell her husband.’
‘Will!’ Eline hugged him. ‘Oh, my love, that is the best news I’ve heard for ages.’
‘Aye, well don’t forget what I had to do to get you these orders, will you?’
Eline leaned back in his arms. ‘What did you have to do?’ she asked, her head on one side, an uncertain smile on her lips.
‘Well …’ Will paused tantalizingly, ‘I had to be nice, very nice to my lady customers.’
‘Oh?’ Eline’s voice had taken on an edge of anger and Will threw back his head and laughed out loud.
‘It’s a good thing that all my ladies have very handsome husbands or lovers otherwise I might have been called upon to make even greater sacrifices.’
Eline slapped him playfully. ‘You monster, let me go, I’ve got an idea for a design.’
‘So have I,’ Will said. ‘I don’t think my ideas and designs can be put off much longer.’
Eline moved out of his arms quickly. ‘Go away, do some more work. We can’t live on love alone, mind.’
‘We could try,’ Will said sighing, ‘but I suppose I’d better be a dutiful husband and go out and earn some wages.’
When he had gone, Eline twisted her hands together. ‘Husband’ – how fine the word sounded when applied to Will. But she had a husband, she was married to Calvin, Lord Temple. She sank down into her chair, her elation vanishing. How she wished he would get the divorce over quickly so that she could be free of him.
She felt a knot of apprehension inside her. She had hurt Calvin badly, he had doted on the son she’d borne within the marriage, the child he thought was his. What if he chose to punish her now by staying married to her, forcing her to live an irregular relationship with Will for ever?
Perhaps she should see him right now while the baby was with Mrs Jessop. It would not be tactful to take her son with her, it wouldn’t exactly endear her to Calvin to flaunt her infidelity in his face.
She took up her shawl from the peg on the door, drew it around her shoulders and stood for a moment looking around the room. What a difference to the life-style she’d enjoyed as Calvin’s wife.
While at Stormhill she had, apparently, everything she desired. The manor was enormous, with huge rooms hung with fine drapes; meals appeared on the long table in the dining room with apparent lack of effort, sumptuous stews and dishes of meat and f
ish that would tempt the poorest appetite. And yet there she had not been happy, she had wanted something else from life, had known exactly what it was, and now she had it – the love of William Davies – she regretted nothing.
She smiled as she looked round the cramped room; a cheerful fire burned in the black leaded grate and if a patch of damp appeared from time to time on the back wall, a touch of whitewash soon disguised it.
Outside the air was balmy with the scents of spring, the blossoms festooned the few trees that grew in World’s End and the sound of birdsong was pleasing to Eline, smothering for a moment the apprehension that filled her.
How would Calvin receive her, would he have her ordered away from the premises without even talking to her? She wouldn’t be at all surprised. And could she blame him? He had been good and kind, a considerate, loving husband and she, well she had been faithless.
It was a long walk through the maze of streets and up the hill towards Stormhill Manor, and every step she took increased her sense of doubt at the wisdom of what she was doing.
At last she arrived at the gates and began the walk along the tree-shaded drive. It was a strange feeling, looking up at the big house, it was as if living there was something she had experienced in a distant dream.
She hesitated at the front door; should she go to the back like one of the servants? But that was absurd. She was still Calvin’s wife, she must behave as such or she wouldn’t even get past the servant who opened the door.
Eline’s surprise as the big door swung open was reflected in the face of the girl who stood before her. She was dressed in a neat black skirt and a white blouse, and an apron was tied around her slender waist. Her hair, silver and gold in the glimmer of sunlight was tied away from her face but there was no mistaking the sheer beauty of it.
‘Arian!’ Eline said. ‘What on earth are you doing here and dressed like that?’