by Iris Gower
‘You’d better go, both of you.’ Arian’s voice was cold. ‘I don’t think there’s any point in delaying, do you? We’ve said all we have to say, we’ve both made our positions entirely clear.’
Gerald left the room without a word and Sarah followed him, glancing back with something like gratitude in her eyes. At the doorway she paused. ‘I’ll look after Gerry, and don’t forget, if you need any help, any sort of help, I’m not short of money.’ It was a sop to Sarah’s belated conscience and Arian knew it.
After the outer door had closed the house fell into a dreaming silence. Arian sank into a chair, relief flooding over her. She was just glad that the unpleasantness was over.
It was true that now she had the responsibility for maintaining the house as well as the business but she would think about that later. For now, it was enough to be alone.
She felt suddenly sick and ill, perhaps she had a chill coming on. Still, whatever it was, she must shake it off. Somehow, she would have to make a living for herself. As for Gerald Simples, she only hoped she would never set eyes on him again.
Sarah lay in Gerald’s arms. He was still now, his passion spent – if you could call what had happened an act of passion. Sarah caught her breath on a sigh as she looked at Gerald’s dark head, turned away from her. He had taken her as a stallion takes a mare, with no sensitivity, no feeling except the need for his own release.
She had come to the conclusion over the last week or two that Gerald Simples loved his wife. He dallied with Sarah, had enjoyed her when theirs was an illicit arrangement but now that they were together permanently, their coupling had nothing of romance about it. He even complained about the old ‘aunt’ she’d hired to chaperone them.
And yet she was grateful to have him in her house, in her bed, for Gerald was the man she was in love with. She sighed softly. Why did she spurn worthy men like William Davies who once, when they were both young, had been her lover? Why did she fall for tough, hard-nosed villains like Gerald Simples? For he was a villain, she’d learned that much about him, and it made no difference to her feelings, she still loved and wanted him.
She reached out her fingertips. His strong neck and broad shoulders were exposed by the bedclothes and his dark hair curled on the nape of his neck in the most beguiling way. Oh yes, he was a crook, a crook of the first order. He had taken her money, quite a lot of it, and salted it away somewhere in so-called stocks and bonds.
But Sarah was no fool. In spite of her love for Gerald, she saw him clearly for what he was. Still, she reckoned it was a small price to pay and she would go on paying it for as long as necessary. It was ironic really. Her husband Geoffrey Frogmore was the one who was really paying and that seemed entirely fitting to Sarah, serve him right for leaving her alone. What he would do when he found out that she was living with Gerald she didn’t know but neither did she care any longer.
She ran her hands over Gerald’s back. His skin was like silk. His hair touched the back of her hand and a great tenderness filled her. He moved suddenly and rose from the bed, and stood looking down at her with an expression in his dark eyes she did not quite understand.
‘I have to go out,’ he said, standing naked and magnificent beside her. ‘Send for the maid to bring water, would you?’
She stared up at him longing to snap at him that she wasn’t his servant but she bit back the angry words, frightened that he would leave her if life proved difficult for him.
She rose, pulled on a robe and rang the bell for the maid to come.
‘Ill see you sometime tomorrow,’ Gerald said and she looked at him sharply.
‘Tomorrow?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Won’t you be back home tonight, Gerald?’
‘No,’ he said shortly. ‘I have a business meeting that’ll take quite a long time and I will probably stay at the club.’
‘The club.’ She echoed his words, dismay evident in her voice. ‘But Gerald, there’s the dinner party. It was for you I arranged it.’ She was aware that her words sounded silly and trivial. He walked from the bedroom without answering.
‘In any case, if you do have to go out, if your appointment is urgent, can you please try to come back? I don’t mind how late it is. Please come home to me.’
‘That’s not what you said last time I was late.’ There was the sound of water from the elegant bathroom and Gerald’s voice rose above it. Sarah knew he was punishing her.
‘I’m sorry if I was angry,’ she said quickly. ‘I was worried, frightened that you’d had an accident. I won’t be like that ever again, I promise you.’
She hated herself for the abject pleading in her voice but she couldn’t help herself. ‘Please Gerald, come home. You can sleep in your own bedroom in the servants’ quarters if you like.’
‘All right,’ he said quickly, too quickly. ‘That way I won’t disturb you however late I am.’
She had played into his hands, Sarah realized at once. This is what he’d wanted all along, an excuse to sleep alone. The club, of course, cost him money, his own room did not. A taste of bitterness filled her mouth, the feeling that she wasn’t wanted, that she was nothing more than a whore but instead of being paid for her services she was the one doing the paying.
She turned away from him when he returned to the room, too hurt to speak, and she heard him close the door behind him with a feeling of dread. She should tell him to go, she should salvage what little was left of her pride but she knew she would go on taking the crumbs Gerald offered for as long as he was willing to provide them.
She watched from the window as he strode away down the drive, nodding curtly to old Peters who opened the tall gates for him. Then he was gone from sight. Sarah sank into her chair with tears streaming along her cheeks. She was hurt, so hurt she thought she would die of it.
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she find a man to love and cherish her? It was not much to ask, was it? She closed her eyes and thought for a moment of all the men who had, briefly, been part of her life. None of them, not even Sam Payton, the first man she had really loved, not one of them came up to Gerald Simples’s shoulder. She wanted him and so she would put up with whatever treatment he meted out. Unless the scales fell from her eyes and she saw him for what he really was. But that day, she felt, would be a long time coming.
Gerald strode from the town towards his house in the hills. He had been kept informed of Arian’s comings and goings. He paid his informers well. The young village girl whom Arian had employed to help her in the house would do anything for a few pennies. Women, they were all whores, all to be bought – all, that is, except Arian.
He smiled. Soon she would ask him to come back to her. The business was falling deeper into debt, she’d given up her office, and even let old Vincent go. And now it seemed she was unwell, suffering from some sort of chill. She was vulnerable; this perhaps was the time to forgive her and go back to her.
Gerald had made it his business to buy out her debts, so it was to him she owed the money now though she didn’t realize it. He would catch her at a weak moment and he would get what he wanted, just what he wanted.
He entered the house without knocking; it was his house still and Arian was lucky to be living in it.
She looked up startled as he entered the kitchen. She was flustered. Her hair was tangled around her face and she was still dressed in her night clothes. He felt his pulses quicken, God how he wanted her. But he must bide his time, he would get her back on his own terms.
As for Sarah, he’d taken almost all he could from her. He had supplemented his income very nicely from her funds and enjoyed the luxuries of her home but, by way of repayment, he’d had to act the stud and had found Sarah a very demanding woman. Now he’d had enough of her cloying, clinging, nature to last him a lifetime.
Arian was always dignified and, strangely, her lack of passion for him enhanced his enjoyment of her. He loved lying with her, caressing her, forcing her into an unwilling response. It gave him a sense of power that was heady
and satisfying. And he loved her too, in his own way.
‘What do you want?’ She spoke baldly, with no welcome in her voice.
‘I want to help you.’ He smiled, ‘I heard you weren’t feeling too well. Are you worried about business?’
‘You heard? You mean you’ve been spying on me. Well you won’t hear any more. I sacked the girl a few days ago. She didn’t do much work anyway, as you can see.’ She didn’t look at him and he moved closer, determined to get her full attention. She was very thin, worryingly so.
‘Are you getting enough to eat?’ He resisted the urge to take her into his arms.
‘Eat?’ she appeared vague. ‘I don’t know, I suppose so.’ She rubbed at her eyes wearily. ‘I’ve just finished doing the books, it’ll all come right given time. Don’t you worry about me, I don’t need your help.’
Gerald took her arm. ‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘I shall cook you breakfast and then I shall put you to bed.’
‘No!’ She sounded almost panic stricken. ‘I don’t want anything from you,’ she said, ‘but I would like to sleep, just for a while. I was up most of the night finishing a pair of boots. The money comes in straight away for repairs, you see.’
Arian moved towards the door. She seemed half asleep already. She stumbled and Gerald caught her arm, holding her around her slim waist with a feeling of such protectiveness that he knew he must have her back, whatever it cost him.
‘Go to bed,’ he spoke softly, knowing he had to play his cards carefully. To frighten her now would be the worst thing he could do.
‘Thank you, Gerald. Please go, I’ll be all right.’ Arian mounted the stairs without a backward glance and crossed the landing into her room. There, she fell upon the bed and drew the tangled clothes over her.
Gerald returned to the kitchen and closed the door behind him. Arian would sleep for a while and in the meantime, he would just take a look at her books; there were bound to be one or two little items there to interest him.
After a time, he put the books away and, well satisfied, looked around him. Perhaps it would be a good idea to straighten the place up a bit. It was like a pig sty; as she’d said, the village girl hadn’t put herself out to clean the place properly. Arian clearly couldn’t cope, that’s what happened when she was without him. The thought gave him an immense feeling of satisfaction.
A little while later, a cheerful fire roared in the grate and the table was scrubbed and covered neatly with a cloth. The brasses shone and Gerald settled back into his chair with a glow of pride. He seemed to be getting what he wanted out of life – money, position and a beautiful wife. If he played his cards right, he would even have a son, that would be the one thing to make his happiness complete.
Oh, there had been difficulties on the way. He’d needed to leave Arian for a time in order to consolidate his financial position but then most men went away on business. His mouth curved into a smile. That his business included sleeping with Sarah Frogmore was his burden but some things just had to be done, some sacrifices made. Arian would understand that, in time. There was no need for her to be jealous, no need at all. Sleeping with Sarah was a chore, nothing more.
It was a few hours later when he heard footsteps on the stairs and Arian appeared, her eyes still heavy with sleep. She looked around her and took in the neatness of the room with surprise.
‘What’s happened to the place?’ She sank into a chair and Gerald rose at once and made her a hot cup of tea. She took it with gratitude, her eyes soft as they looked up at him. It was the first sign of warmth he’d ever had from her.
‘I’m not entirely useless in the kitchen, you see.’
‘Thank you for your kindness, it’s very much appreciated.’ Arian’s face clouded. ‘That doesn’t mean I want you back, Gerald. You do understand it’s over, don’t you?’
‘You’re not well, I do understand that. All these business worries are too much for you, but then you brought it all on yourself Arian, too much expenditure and not enough income – that way leads to disaster. I could always help you out.’
It pained him to rub salt into her wounds but then it was necessary for she must be made to realize that she needed him.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll manage, Gerald.’
He doubted it. She looked as though she was about to faint. Gerald hardened his heart.
‘I’ll be off then, I’ll call again in a few days’ time, see how you are. Take care, Arian.’
He walked away without glancing back over his shoulder but he knew he had left Arian feeling weak and indecisive and with too much on her hands. She was a woman of spirit but she was not as self-sufficient as she believed. She was too worn down by worries about the business and her health hadn’t been too good since she’d suffered the miscarriage.
It was much later when he returned to Sarah’s house and he found that her dinner party was in full swing. In his anxiety to advance his plans for Arian’s future, he had quite forgotten about it.
The actual meal was over and the guests were assembled in the music room. Calvin Temple was seated in the big chair near the pianoforte and he seemed quite at ease. His eyes, though, were guarded as he saw Gerald but he didn’t move.
The other guests were people Gerald knew only by sight; Sarah’s father, John Miller and his wife Emily, the old ‘Aunt’ Sarah had employed and one or two other guests who seemed to Gerald to have come simply to make up the numbers, none of them prominent citizens in any way.
‘I’m sorry I’m late, Mrs Frogmore,’ he said, formally bending over Sarah’s hand. ‘But I have been working hard on your behalf.’ It didn’t do to allow too much of his private life to show in public – that was one dictum he always followed.
‘I’m pleased you’re here, Simples.’ Sarah was in high spirits. ‘I wanted to introduce you to my guests as both my wonderful house steward and the financial genius you are.’ A strained silence followed her words and Sarah rushed on, ‘Lord Temple has been entertaining us with such beautiful music,’ Sarah said. ‘He really is the most talented man. He does so many things well.’
Gerald caught something in the tone of Sarah’s voice that warned him he would have to tread carefully, at least for a while longer. Sarah and Calvin Temple had, obviously, been lovers at some time and she was issuing a warning that it was a relationship easily renewed.
Even while Gerald joined in the small, polite conversations and laughed in all the right places, he was showing by touches of his hand and by meaningful glances that Sarah was, for the moment at least, his property.
In response, she sparkled even more than usual, her eyes bright, her skin flushed. She even seemed desirable. Gerald made up his mind that for tonight, the comfort of his own room would be forgone in favour of Sarah’s bed. He must make sure that he pleased her, at least for as long as it took to make Arian beg for his help. The thought filled him with such pleasure that he felt quite generous towards Sarah and actually squeezed her hand in full view of Temple who appeared not to notice.
‘Naughty boy,’ Sarah whispered in Gerald’s ear, ‘I’ll make you pay for that later, mind.’
‘I can’t wait,’ Gerald said and if there was irony in his voice, Sarah was too happy to notice.
At last the guests had gone and they were alone. Gerald took Sarah in his arms and drew her close. ‘I’ve been all sorts of a bastard lately,’ he said, looking down at her, ‘but I can’t help being moody when I’m worried about money.’ That was inspired, for Sarah immediately loosened his hold, went to her desk and took out a bag of chinking sovereigns.
‘Never worry about money, my darling,’ she hugged him. ‘I have enough for both of us. Come on, let’s go on up to bed.’
He concealed his irritation. If only, once in a while, she would be a little subtle about her desires, it would be so refreshing.
Still, he was out to charm her, he reminded himself and so he threw some cushions down on the floor and pressed her down against them.
‘I want to make lo
ve to you here, in the firelight,’ he said softly, his lips pressing against the warmth of her neck. She sighed happily.
‘That’s one thing I like about you, Gerald,’ she whispered pressing his hand to her breast. ‘You are so daring, so greedy for my love that you can’t wait.’
He surpassed himself that night. True, he pretended it was Arian beneath him, although Sarah’s loud moans detracted from that fantasy for Arian never made a sound while he took her, but he had achieved what he wanted by convincing Sarah his moods had passed for, afterwards, she turned to him and looked him full in the face, her eyes soft and dreamy.
‘I think I must make you an allowance, all legal-like,’ she said in a whisper. ‘I don’t want you to worry about money, not ever again. It must not be allowed to come between us.’
He was so pleased that he felt himself becoming aroused once more and Sarah’s look of joy was the seal of approval on their pact.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Eline sat opposite Arian studying her carefully, concern for her mounting. Gone was the light from her eyes and even Arian’s silver-gold hair seemed to lack lustre.
The chatter of the tea-rooms ebbed and flowed around them and Arian sat listlessly in her chair, hands folded in her lap, subservient, as though awaiting instructions. She presented a picture of a supplicant rather than the eager-for-success business woman she was.
‘More tea?’ Eline asked over the noise of tinkling tea cups and the conversational tone of the ladies on the next table.
‘Yes, please,’ Arian said, but it was as though she couldn’t really care less either way.
Eline put down the pot and leaned forward. ‘Arian, what is wrong with you?’ The question was blunt and Arian’s eyes flickered on Eline’s face for a moment before looking away.