by Anna Jacobs
He turned to her. “Serena, you’ve already made a big mistake in leaving the security of your home. Don’t compound it.” He got into the car, gestured to Hudd to join him and they drove off.
Serena let out a long, shuddering breath and Marcus turned to her, offering his arm. “I think we’d better get you home, Miss Fleming. Vic, will you fetch the cab?”
“Yes, of course.”
Justin looked from one to the other. “He has got certain rights as your father, or would have if you were proven to be of unsound mind.”
“But I’m not!”
“Doctors have been bought before. And he’s very friendly with Tolson.”
She felt as if the earth were shaking beneath her feet. “What am I going to do, then?” she whispered. “I have no other close relatives and very little money to hand. If he can have me locked away, he’ll be able to take everything I own.”
“Why does he want your money so badly?” Marcus asked. “Have you any idea?”
“No. He always seems to have plenty of his own. Unless it’s what you told me before, the gambling.”
Justin looked from one to the other. “It’s well known that a lot of money has changed hands at the club in the past year or two. There were some members who wanted that looked into, then suddenly they stopped agitating. I wonder . . . ”
“He’ll have threatened them,” Serena said in a flat voice. “I’ve overheard him boasting that he always gets what he wants. He doesn’t do it in an outright way, but he makes sure people are afraid for something or someone they value.”
“What if he’s been losing heavily?” Marcus asked. “You told me you had an annuity that brings in five hundred pounds a year. He could sell that or use the income from it. It all depends on how desperate he is. And if he is desperate, you’re in real danger.”
Justin was looking from Marcus to Serena, but they didn’t seem to be aware of him, were staring at each other as if they were alone. He smiled and then had to clear his throat to gain their attention. “There’s one way to make sure he can never get his hands on her.”
“What?” Serena asked eagerly. “Whatever it is, I’ll do it.”
“If you were married, your husband would be your next of kin, not Fleming.”
“Oh.” Her eager expression faded and she looked down at herself with a scornful laugh.
“Who’d marry me? I’ve worked all my life to be plain and unattractive, not to mention boring.”
Justin looked at Marcus and raised one eyebrow.
Marcus stared back, his mouth falling open in shock as he realised what the other man was hinting. Then he looked at Serena, remembering how she had nestled so comfortably against him, how attractive she looked with her hair loose, how his body reacted to her. He too smiled, then nodded at the other man as if accepting his challenge.
“It’d need to be done quickly,” Justin warned.
Serena looked from one man to the other, puzzled by their expressions.
Marcus took a deep breath. “In that case, perhaps you would consider marrying me, Serena?
That should keep you safe.”
She gasped in shock and had to clutch him to keep her balance. “Marry you?”
“Yes.”
“But—we hardly know one another. We only met yesterday. And besides . . . ” He was a kind person and she liked him, but all her worries about a loveless marriage came rushing back at her.
She looked desperately from one man to the other, trying to explain. “I always swore I’d only ever marry for love after seeing how unhappy my mother was. Though I’m grateful for your offer, Mr Graye, of course I am.”
“Well, I don’t blame you for refusing me. I’m not much of a catch now.” His hand went up in a gesture that took in his scarred face.
Her voice softened. “It’s got nothing to do with your face. What does that matter? Those scars were gained in defence of your country and they can be worn with pride.”
“They’d matter to some women.”
She felt torn both ways, wanting to reassure him and yet afraid she’d be tempted into accepting him. “Not to me.”
Justin said, “I don’t think you have much choice but to find someone to marry, my dear.”
Fear warred with temptation and won. “Could I—take a few days to think about it?”
“I doubt you have that long, Serena.” Justin looked from one to the other. “You’ve just seen the lengths your father will go to and—”
So she told him. “He isn’t my father!”
Justin gaped at her. “What do you mean by that?”
She explained.
“Good heavens! But can you prove it?”
She thought for a moment then shook her head. “No. I know my mother wouldn’t lie to me, though, not when she was dying.”
“Then that information is no help in your present dilemma, though it must be a great comfort to you, knowing what he’s like.”
“Yes.” She turned to look at the man beside her. “You must think I’m being very foolish, Marcus.”
“No, I don’t. It’s a big step. But I really would like to marry you.”
“You would? Why?”
His solemn expression softened into a smile, “Because you make me feel like a man again, which I haven’t for months. Because you’re pretty—or you could be. Because . . . I’m lonely.”
“Oh.”
She didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think straight, because she had suddenly realised that she rather liked the idea of marrying him. Any woman would. He was attractive, even with the scars and beard. And he was kind, too. That was so important.
“I won’t conceal from you that your annuity would make a big difference to me, but if it’ll make you feel any better, I’d agree to postpone consummating our marriage until we knew one another better and you felt the time was right.”
She could feel herself blushing and was grateful when neither man spoke for a moment or two as she tried desperately to think about Marcus’s offer. She thought he would make a decent husband, but how did you know for sure? And if she didn’t have to go straight into his bed, could first get used to her new self and life, to being with him . ..
Suddenly the woman who had voted, who had planned an escape from Ernest Fleming’s clutches, who had been hiding behind a mask for so many years, urged her to take a chance, perhaps the only real chance she’d get, of staying free of Ernest Fleming. The words were out before Serena had even realised she was going to say them, “Thank you, Marcus, then. I will marry you under those conditions, if you’ll agree to be patient with me.”
Justin stepped forward and gave them each a big hug. “Excellent. This might sound silly, but I feel you two will suit one another. Now, we need to arrange for a wedding. By special licence, I think. Don’t want to give Fleming a chance to get up to more of his nasty tricks, do we? We’ll get the licence tomorrow, Marcus.”
“Yes.” He turned to Serena. “Here comes Vic. Let’s go home now.”
Home, she thought, and it seemed as if the day was much brighter suddenly. Whatever happened about her inheritance, she would have a home again. And a husband to share it with.
She sat next to him in the cab as it pulled away, staring down at her tightly clasped hands, feeling shy now.
“You’re sure about it?” he asked. “I don’t want you to feel forced to do something you’ll regret.”
She looked up then and it was the way his eyes crinkled at the corners with the faint hint of a smile, the innate kindness and warmth of the man that clinched the matter for her. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Then allow me to do something I’ve been itching to do since early this morning.” He reached out to her shapeless felt hat, which was jammed down nearly to her eyes, removed it carefully and pulled the pins out of her bun, one by one.
She couldn’t move, could only sit there feeling tingles run through her when he touched her, feeling breathless, wonderfully alive in a way she had never experienced
before. A man’s touch, she thought. I never realised what it can do to you.
He fluffed out her hair over her shoulders, leaned back and studied her, head on one side, smiling slightly. “There. That’s much better. Will you promise me one thing?”
She nodded.
“That you’ll never wear your hair like that again.”
“That’s an easy thing to promise. I’ve hated wearing it like that. It was just—wiser.”
“And your clothes? They were deliberately selected to make you look plain and lumpy, weren’t they?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll have to get you some new ones as soon as possible. These do the job only too well. If I hadn’t seen you this morning, I’d not have realised what you can look like.”
He reached for her hand and she let him take it, feeling a little shy. His skin was warm, his grip was strong and her hand felt so right in his.
“I think we’ll do well together, Serena,” he said quietly, raising her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss against it.
She closed her eyes for a moment as heat flooded through her body. But she wasn’t going to be passive about their marriage, she decided, so opened her eyes again and said firmly, “It won’t be my fault if we don’t get on well. I’m not—quarrelsome.”
“You’re brave and honest and pretty. Good qualities in a wife, I think.”
They sat quietly for the rest of the journey, but when they arrived at the Hall he grew thoughtful. “I think we should bring in reinforcements, Serena. I intend to keep you very safe until we’re married.” He was sorry to see all the pretty colour drain from her face.
“You think he’ll—try something else, then?”
“I think he’s desperate, my dear. I’ll come and sleep at the Hall tonight and ask Vic to do the same.”
“People will talk if you’re sleeping there before we marry. You know what they’re like in small towns. And there are one or two ladies in Tinsley who can be quite vicious about such things.”
“It’s your safety I’m thinking of. To hell with the gossips.”
“Fleming will hardly break into your house to kidnap me! He’s more likely to hammer on the front door with a doctor by his side and demand to see me, surely? In which case I can run out of the back.”
“I suppose so. And there are the two maids and Mrs Lonnerden living there. Look, I’m only a couple of hundred yards away at the end of the drive. I’d hear if there were trouble. In fact, they’d have to pass my house. Maybe if you were to share the bedroom with Pearl . . . ?”
“Yes, I’ll do that, I promise.”
“All right, then. And in two days’ time at most, we shall be married.”
Her heart started to beat faster at the thought. Married! It was such a momentous step to take, marrying someone whom she’d only just met.
But it was also a wonderful chance to have what other women had, what she’d been secretly longing for—a home of her own, a husband and children. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask?
And there was Marcus.
Chapter 6
Vic took Pearl and her things to the Hall after work and she insisted on sitting with him on the driving seat of the cab, even though that was a bit of a squash. As Dolly clopped along at her own pace he explained in detail what had been happening.
She stared at him in the moonlight her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You’re afraid her father will try to kidnap her and lock her away? It sounds like one of the stories I read.”
“Well, I heard Fleming myself. He as good as admitted that was what he intended to do when he tried to abduct her, though of course he pretended it was because she was mentally confused.
If we hadn’t been there, he’d have succeeded, too.”
Pearl was silent for a moment or two. “What’s he like, your Mr Graye?”
“Marcus. He says we should call him Marcus.”
“Funny sort of employer, using first names.”
“Funny sort of world, now.” He glanced down at his artificial leg with a bitter twist of the lips.
“Anyway, you’ve already met him.”
“Only once. You’ve spent a few days with him, so I wondered what he’s really like, underneath it all?”
“Kind. Sad sometimes. Still coming to terms with what he looks like now. I catch him staring at his face in mirrors and fingering that cheek. He’s not afraid to stand up to people, though, and fight too if necessary, even though his injuries aren’t fully healed. I respect that, respect him. I liked him when we were lads. He was quiet, but straight as a die.”
“What made him ask Miss Fleming to marry him, do you think?”
“Who knows? It’s partly the money, I suppose. She gets five hundred pounds a year, inherited from her godmother.”
“That’s a horrid reason for being married. I’d say no if I were her.”
“Not if the alternative was to be stuck in a lunatic asylum, you wouldn’t.”
She was silent for a moment. “It’s like something you read about in Pearson’s Magazine.”
He grinned at her and began to rein the horse in. “You and your adventure stories.”
“I like reading them, especially stories about poor girls standing up to evil men and winning.
Hang on, I’ll jump down and open the gates.”
She’d jumped off the high cab seat before he could stop her, which gave him an anxious moment, but she’d always been nimble and better than most lads at climbing trees. She opened the gate and he told Dolly to walk on, then watched as Pearl rode the gate shut before fastening it carefully. When he was sure she was all right, he got down more carefully. He’d never again be able to leap around as she did, and that knowledge hurt sometimes. “I’ll take you up to the house then come back and unharness poor old Dolly.”
“I’ll do that for you, Vic lad.” Hill came hobbling forward out of the shadows. He hung his lantern on a wall hook and came across to the cab.
“Thanks.” Vic gave his horse an affectionate slap and lifted down Pearl’s bag. Hill knew more about horses than anyone he’d ever met and if the old man worked more slowly nowadays, he still did things properly and Dolly was very fond of him.
Inside the house they found Serena in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan and peering into it with a dubious expression.
Vic stared in surprise at her hair, which was tied loosely back with a black ribbon and made her look very different, then realised he was staring and tried not to. “Good evening, Miss Fleming. Here’s my Pearl come to stay with you.”
“Good. Um—you don’t know anything about cooking, do you, Pearl? Gladys has a sick headache and she’s gone to lie down. She looked dreadful, poor thing. And Ada’s busy with old Mrs Lonnerden. This stew was half-cooked so I said I’d keep an eye on it, but it doesn’t look very appetising. I’ve only ever watched people cook before so I’m not quite sure what to do to improve it.”
Pearl’s eyes lit up. She came forward to stand next to Serena and inspected the bubbling mixture. “She didn’t brown the onions and meat first, just boiled everything up. Here, you keep stirring so it doesn’t catch and let me have a look what they’ve got in the pantry. I love cooking.”
She picked up one of the two lamps that had been lit, because they hadn’t got gas lighting out here. That left half of the huge kitchen in shadow as she went across to explore the pantry. To her surprise the shelves were mainly bare, only those near the door containing anything. “Aha!” She pounced on something and came out waving it triumphantly. “Penny cubes. Don’t know what we’d do without them now.”
Vic smiled reminiscently at the sight of the bright red and white tin. “They were wonderful during the war, a real treat to drink if you could get hold of some boiling water.”
“Did they send things like this out to the troops then?” Serena asked in surprise.
“Oh, yes. We all looked forward to receiving those little red and white tins with our rations. I even knew one chap whose life was
saved by his Oxo tin.”
“Go on!” Pearl scoffed. “You’re having us on.”
“No, really. He had it in his breast pocket and it deflected a piece of shrapnel that’d have gone straight into his heart, the doctor said. My friend carried that tin with him everywhere after that, said it was his lucky piece.”
“Well, I never! And did he survive the war?”
“I don’t know. I copped mine soon after and was shipped back to Blighty.”
He sat astride a chair exchanging banter with Pearl and politer remarks with Serena until Marcus came to join them, followed by Ada wanting food for her mistress.
“We’ll save yours,” Pearl called as the maid carried out a beautifully set tray containing only a small bowl of stew and a thin slice of bread.
The four of them sat down to eat in the warm glow of the lamps and the fire. The food was a definite improvement on the pallid mess Pearl had found and the men augmented their portions with chunks of rather solid bread.
“Was this baked by Gladys too?” Pearl asked with a grimace as she hacked through the heavy loaf to give Vic another slice.
Marcus looked up, spoon poised near his mouth. “She’s doesn’t pretend to be a trained cook, she’s just doing her best.”
“I could take over the cooking if you like,” Pearl volunteered.
“That’d be wonderful. Someone had better go up and see how Gladys is as soon as we’ve finished eating.”
Ada came in as he was speaking, carrying the tray with an empty bowl on it. “I looked in on her and she’s all right, sir. She’ll sleep for a few hours and then she’ll be better tomorrow. She has these bad heads regularly, poor thing.” She took the tray into the scullery. “That’s the first time Madam has eaten all her supper. I told her Miss Diggle cooked it and she wants to meet her and Miss Fleming tomorrow. She’s not happy at having people she doesn’t know living in her house, but the stew helped. She used to enjoy her food until Cook died.”