by Iris Gower
‘Perhaps you should have the doctor now, just to make sure you’re all right.’ Sarah washed her hands briskly and rolled down her sleeves. ‘I’ll make you some tea, if you like.’ She didn’t know what else to suggest. Arian was so still, so silent, it was unnerving.
Arian didn’t reply and it was with a sense of relief that Sarah heard the front door opening.
‘Arian!’ A strong masculine voice called out from below and Sarah hurried eagerly to the top of the stairs.
‘Up here,’ she said and found she was looking into the face of one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen. He took the stairs two at a time and when he entered the room Sarah saw he was very tall, with a tapering waist and hips, and fine strong legs beneath the good cloth of his suit. His hair was awry and his eyes, dark and magnetic, stared into hers. So this was Arian’s husband.
He moved to the bed at once and knelt down, his hand reaching out to cover Arian’s listless fingers.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked abruptly. ‘I knew something was wrong. I was drinking in the Castle tap room when this driver came in with a story about a woman falling sick in his cab. I heard him mention our house and I came at once. What’s wrong, Arian? Have you caught some plague, what?’
Arian’s eyes flickered open. ‘I’ll be all right, Gerald,’ she said with a touch of bitterness in her voice, ‘I haven’t caught any plague. Just give me time.’
Sarah moved forward and touched Gerald Simples’s arm. ‘Let her rest,’ she spoke softly. ‘She needs a bit of quietness after all she’s gone through.’
‘What exactly has happened?’ Gerald’s tone was almost threatening and yet Sarah knew she was strongly attracted to him. He was so masculine, so dominant – the complete opposite of Geoffrey.
‘It happens quite often,’ Sarah said placatingly, ‘she’s had a miscarriage but she’ll be all right.’
Gerald moved away from her as though he had been bitten by a snake.
‘Is she telling me the truth?’ Gerald looked coldly at Arian who turned her head away from him.
‘She’s telling the truth. I couldn’t help it, Gerald, believe me. I didn’t want it to happen.’
Gerald slammed his fist against the wall and, alarmed, Sarah stepped back apace.
‘These things can’t be helped,’ she spoke placatingly. ‘It’s nature’s way. It will be all right next time, you’ll see.’
Gerald didn’t turn or speak, he just continued to stare down at his wife as though he hated her. Sarah moved downstairs, feeling it tactful to leave them together, but Gerald followed her.
‘I understand you helped my wife home. I’m very grateful. Perhaps I could offer you some sort of compensation for your trouble.’ He sounded businesslike, almost off-hand and Sarah was stung.
‘No need for gratitude. I only did what any woman would do in the circumstances and as for money, I have more of that than I need.’
She was aware that Gerald Simples’s expression changed but so slightly that she could not interpret what it meant.
‘Please leave me your name and address.’ He moved a little closer. ‘I am grateful to you, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been around.’
Sarah warmed to him. It was good to be appreciated and Gerald Simples was an extremely handsome man. She held out her hand and he engulfed it in his.
‘I’m Sarah Frogmore,’ she said, ‘a wife and mother myself.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘But my husband is away on business,’ she lied blatantly, ‘and he’s taken our son with him.’
Gerald’s hand tightened over hers. ‘You’re lonely,’ he said, ‘the man must be blind to leave a woman as beautiful as you. Please, let me at least pay for a cab to take you home.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘No need. Geoffrey doesn’t leave me short of funds, he’s very generous in that way.’
‘I couldn’t persuade you to stay for a few days, could I?’ Gerald was still holding her hand and Sarah felt that she would very much like to know him better. She looked round at the small neat house, so insignificant compared to her own home and a thought struck her.
‘Why not come and stay with me?’ she suggested with enthusiasm. ‘Both of you. I have more rooms than I can fill and you would be most welcome. There we can be waited on by the servants, and Arian will be able to rest.’
‘That’s very kind, very kind indeed,’ Gerald said, appearing to hesitate, ‘but I wouldn’t dream of imposing.’
‘It wouldn’t be an imposition,’ Sarah said quickly. ‘I would be glad of the company. Please say you’ll come and stay, at least for a while.’
She would hire a nurse to care for Arian and that would leave her free to enjoy Gerald Simples’s company undisturbed. She wouldn’t be breaking anything up – by the look of it, the Simples didn’t have much going for their marriage.
‘I will explain the situation to my wife,’ he said. The words stabbed Sarah with a sudden pain. He leaned towards her as though sensing her hurt, his dark eyes looking down into hers.
‘Arian doesn’t always understand that what I do is in her best interest. Has anyone ever told you how very beautiful you are?’ He didn’t seem aware of the abrupt change in his tone. He looked at Sarah with undisguised admiration and she felt the rich colour flow into her cheeks, felt alive for the first time in months, alive and attractive. While she was searching for something to say, Gerald was turning away from her, adopting a matter-of-fact tone as he spoke again.
‘I would be very grateful for your help, Mrs Frogmore, and I won’t deny it. I would be honoured to accept your kind invitation if you’re sure it’s no inconvenience. I have to work, you see, and I don’t like to think of Arian left alone.’
‘Sarah, call me Sarah. Duw, it’s no inconvenience. It will be lovely to have a man in the house again. May I suggest something?’ she added a little more decisively. ‘Tell Arian what we intend to do, don’t ask her. She’s in no frame of mind to make a sensible decision right now.’
He turned to look over his shoulder at her, his eyes warm. ‘I think you are right, Mrs … Sarah. We shall make the arrangements between us, shall we?’
She felt suddenly happy. Her house would be filled again, filled with the healthy scents and the laughter of a real man. The fact that Arian would be there too scarcely rippled the surface of her mind.
‘Let’s do that, then,’ she said smiling.
Arian sat in the warm, comfortable armchair near the window and stared out at the manicured gardens of the Frogmore house. Events had overtaken her, or so it seemed; one minute she was in bed in her own modest home and the next she was transported to what was virtually a mansion.
Her body still ached. She was weak and lethargic. She knew she was neglecting her business – there was money to be collected, boots to be mended, and none of it was getting done. Still, it was kind of Sarah to take them in and at least it spared Arian the awkwardness of being alone with Gerald.
As if on cue, the door opened and Sarah entered the room, a tray of tea in her hand. Arian smiled wanly. Sarah understood and was sympathetic – she had felt like this herself after the loss of her own child. She didn’t try to persuade Arian to pull herself together. There was, as she said, a time to mourn what might have been. Arian knew her feelings were mixed; she hadn’t ever wanted a child and yet she couldn’t deny that the miscarriage was a trauma from which it would take some time to recover.
They sat and talked in a desultory fashion, about trivia, about nothing at all, really. Arian knew that Sarah would have little interest in business matters. When she did talk it was to praise Gerald to the skies for his patience and his endurance.
If the truth were to be told, Arian found Sarah empty headed, tedious even, and yet she had been so kind that Arian felt beholden to her.
‘You’re very quiet,’ Sarah said, as though sensing a little of what Arian was feeling.
‘I’m just tired.’ Arian knew it was a lame excuse but she was too weary to think of anything el
se. In any case, Sarah got to her feet eagerly enough.
‘I’ll leave you, then. Is there anything you need?’ She waited in vain for a reply and when Arian shook her head, Sarah left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Arian returned to her chair and resumed her contemplation of the garden. It was peaceful and sun-kissed and though the wind trembled through the leaves, it seemed warm and welcoming. Arian felt a desire to go outside but she hesitated. What if she came face to face with Gerald? She knew he blamed her for what had happened, which was unjust but she could hardly blame him. As yet, he’d respected her wishes and left her alone. Perhaps he hated her. There had certainly been more than anger in his eyes when he’d found out what had happened on that awful day, was it a month ago?
If only this tiredness would go. Sarah reassured her that she would get over it, would soon return to normality but Arian doubted she would ever feel normal again.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Perhaps she didn’t have the energy to go into the garden, after all. Perhaps the best thing would be to end it all, to walk into the embracing arms of the seas of Swansea Bay and never look back. It was a thought she had toyed with more than once, an intriguing, teasing thought. She went to the bed and lay down on the soft covers, closing her eyes as though to shut out the world.
Slowly, sleep, her only respite from the feelings of terror that plagued her, stole over her and Arian, temporarily, was at peace.
* * *
Sarah had tried all her wiles to entice Gerald Simples into her bed and so far she had failed. She knew he admired her – he made that abundantly clear. He flattered her with his words and with his eyes, he made her feel she was the most desirable woman in all the world and yet he still evaded her.
She was falling in love with him, she knew it. Even her feelings for Calvin Temple that had flared briefly into flames died into embers in the face of this new love.
She couldn’t fathom Gerald Simples. She would have put her last penny on her success in having him succumb to her wiles and yet she had failed. His inaccessibility added a piquancy to the affair that excited her.
At dinner, she told him about Arian’s continued tiredness, intimating she should see a doctor or perhaps have a nurse tend her for a time. He frowned, staring at her over the polished silver cutlery that gleamed in the candlelight.
‘Do you think that’s really necessary?’ he asked and he appeared so concerned that Sarah hesitated, wondering if she’d overplayed her hand.
‘I think it might be for the best,’ she said softly. ‘Arian’s not well, it’s her mind as much as anything. Perhaps a rest home would be the answer?’
She felt well pleased with her suggestion. It would leave her alone in the house with Gerald and with his wife out of the way, he would surely fall into Sarah’s arms.
‘You are very thoughtful,’ Gerald said slowly. ‘I could not expose you to the gossip that our being alone would invoke but thank you for caring, Sarah.’ He was right, of course. There would be gossip if they were alone.
‘I would like to talk to you on another matter, after supper will do,’ Gerald said and a dart of hope filled Sarah’s breast.
‘Yes, of course. Can you give me a little hint of what it’s about?’
‘Later,’ he said and his tone brooked no argument. That was part of what she loved about him. Gerald had an almost ruthless belief in himself and although he was a guest in her house, he never acted as though Sarah was doing him any favours. It was almost the reverse.
She ate the devilled kidneys and the saddle of lamb which followed it with little appetite and some impatience but at last she rose and took her leave of him, moving into the drawing room while he sat back in his chair and smoked the cigars she had provided for him.
She tried to compose herself so that when he came into the drawing room some time later, she appeared engrossed in the needlepoint on her lap. It was all to create an effect. She was not adept at fine stitches and loathed sewing in any shape or form.
‘Ah Gerald,’ she smiled up at him, aware of his eyes going to the round firmness of her breasts beneath the silk of the gown. She smiled. ‘Come and sit down. Tell me what it was you wanted to talk about.’
He drew his chair close to her and leaned forward, so that if she had reached out, she could have touched the dark hair that curled on his brow.
‘I may not have told you quite how I feel,’ he said, ‘but I’m deeply grateful for all you have done, are doing, for me.’ He paused, so close that she could see the sweep of his dark lashes as he glanced down at his hands. ‘So grateful that I would like to be of service to you in any way that I can.’
Her heart leapt. There was one way he could repay her and that was to take her in his arms and make her feel wanted but she remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
‘I’ve thought long and hard about this,’ he said, ‘and what I propose is that I advise you as to your investments.’ He paused. ‘You may know that I was adviser to Lord Temple in just that field.’
So now she had him. Money, or at least the manipulation of it, was what heated Gerald Simples’s blood. Although he couched his words in fine phrases, Sarah knew naked greed when she saw it and she was quite prepared to give Gerald control over some of her money in return for his passion, and if possible his love.
She rose, resisting the desire to reach out to him and put forward a bold proposition; subtlety was the way forward with this man, she knew it in her bones.
‘I will think about what you have said.’ She smiled benignly. ‘I do my best thinking in the comfort of my bed,’ she added with a small lift to her eyebrows.
She left the room and made her way up the wide staircase, her heart pounding. Had she overplayed her hand? Had she totally misjudged him? Somehow, she doubted it.
Later she sat against the pillows, her satin gown clinging to her body, concealing and yet revealing. Sarah knew that she was a voluptuous woman, a healthy woman. Gerald must be growing more than a little tired of the pale, passionless wife he’d married.
She was not wrong. It was perhaps twenty minutes later, long minutes during which doubts assailed her, when she heard the door-handle turn. She smiled up at Gerald. His hair was damp and tousled, and he wore a silk dressing-gown and nothing else, if her eyes did not deceive her, and her heart rejoiced. She held out her hand.
‘I’ve had an idea,’ she said softly. ‘What if I had an aged aunt come to stay here with me? That would silence any gossips.’ Sarah had no aged aunts that she knew of but she could easily hire one. ‘And what if you were to act as my house steward? In name only, of course. You could have one of the best rooms in the servants’ quarters.’ She laughed softly. ‘Not that you would need to occupy it very often, it would be just for appearances’ sake, you understand?’
He didn’t seem convinced.
‘Of course I would pay you far more than the usual steward’s wages of a hundred pounds a year, much more.’ Her eyelashes fluttered up at him in an open invitation.
Gerald didn’t answer but she could see he was now considering her words carefully.
‘All right.’ His words were clipped but Sarah felt triumphant. It was the mention of wages that had done the trick and she knew it. Still, once he’d tasted of her charms he would be eager to come to her bed without extra inducement.
She smiled up at him. ‘I’ve been waiting for you for so long.’
Waiting for far too long, she thought as he came towards the bed but now, she would have her fill of him. Tonight, he would make his first commitment to her and tonight was only the beginning.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Arian worked over her accounts trying to push aside the mists of doubt and worry that nagged the edges of her mind but she couldn’t escape the fact that her business prospects were not good. Sales had been static this past month and the position was made worse by the fact that she’d been unable to collect any money.
She put down her pen
carefully, a frown creasing her brow. It looked likely that she would have to dismiss Vincent, difficult as that would be. She simply couldn’t afford to pay him.
She sighed as she closed the books and sat back in her chair, looking round at the small office with a sense of despair. She’d rented the place with high hopes but that was before she’d been taken ill. At the time, she’d felt the need to have a place of her own, it was an assertion of her independence.
The office was sparsely furnished and the rent was accordingly low but still, she had no choice but to move out – it was a case of cutting back on everything that was not essential.
It was a great pity, though. The office had become her retreat from the world, an oasis of calm that was all her own, somewhere she could be free of Gerald.
Arian rose and moved to the window that looked out on nothing but a bare brick wall. She might as well face the truth. She was a failure. Even here in this office, with the smell of pencils and ink and old books, she’d not been able to arouse any enthusiasm for her job. It was as though with the loss of her child, her initiative had been lost too.
She put on her coat. It was time she returned home. Not that she was home – she was still living in that huge mausoleum of a place with Sarah Frogmore, who was no friend. Arian had overheard her suggestion that they send Arian to some sort of nursing home. Sarah, who had been unfaithful to her husband with Calvin Temple, was acting as if she was a saint. Well, Arian would stay no longer. Gerald could do as he pleased, the matter was one of complete indifference to her.
She took a cab. It was an extravagance she couldn’t afford but she was impatient now to get her belongings, begin her return to some sort of control of her life. She sank back into the creaking seat. She realized she was still feeling weak and tired, and was glad she was spared the long walk through Swansea and the climb up the bill to the big house.
There was no sign of Gerald. Sarah though, was sitting in the drawing room, a tray of cordial on the table beside her. She looked at Arian as though she’d grown two heads.