She crossed the space between them and Nathaniel’s arms closed around her. His kiss this time was hard and needy. Mattie responded, pressing her body tightly against him. She gripped him tighter as one of his hands made its way to the back of her head; the other grasped her bottom and anchored her to him.
Finally, Nathaniel’s lips left hers.
‘Mattie Maguire, will you marry me?‘
‘Yes, yes,’ she laughed. Nathaniel lifted her off her feet and hugged her. ‘We can’t, of course, until I get my pardon but once I have it, I’ll come back—’
‘Back? Back from where?’
‘I can’t say. It’s just for a while.’
Mattie gripped his upper arms. ‘But why?’
‘Because if I’m found here you’ll now be arrested as an accomplice.’
‘But . . .’ She paused and thought of Brian tucked up in his bed, his thumb stuck in his mouth and his fair hair tumbling over his forehead. Guilt nudged at her.
Nathaniel hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her face. ‘It won’t be for long, Mattie, I promise.’ He kissed her lips again lightly. ‘Who knows, perhaps tomorrow I’ll have that vital piece of evidence I need to clear my name. And when I do, I’ll make the vicar read the banns all in one day so we can marry the next. And then I’ll put a smile on that beautiful face of yours.’
Mattie’s gaze left his face and travelled down to the dip at the bottom of his throat and then onto his bare chest. She unbuttoned the last two buttons of his shirt and then reached in and wound her arms around him, drawing him closer. His arms tightened around her as his body tensed.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he said, his voice crackling.
A mischievous expression spread across Mattie’s face. ‘Nathaniel, you don’t have to go just yet, do you?’
*
Nathaniel opened his eyes and looked down at the woman nestling beside him. Mattie’s glossy ebony hair cascaded over her shoulders and down to her hips in a luxurious stream. The ribbon that gathered the neckline of her chemise had unravelled, allowing the garment to slip off her shoulder. It was the only thing she still wore. Her eyes were closed and her hand rested lightly on his chest. He, too, had shed his clothes and they mingled with Mattie’s, abandoned on the floor.
The lamp on the table cast a warm light over them and Nathaniel wondered if Mattie would be bashful when she woke to find him appreciating every curve and dip of her body. A satisfied smile softened his features. No, she wouldn’t. She had matched his passion with an exuberance that surprised and delighted him. So much so that they had made love twice within as many hours. Mattie sighed and shifted closer to him.
God she was beautiful. He’d been lost to Mattie the moment she’d slid her arms around him and kissed his chest, but he worried that his lack of restraint might well have consequences.
Perhaps just twice will be all right. Mattie’s hand stroked lightly across his chest, down his stomach and his groin tightened. Well, even three probably would do no harm.
Mattie opened her eyes and ran her finger lightly over his jaw, cheek and forehead.
She twisted around and studied the crudely drawn heart-shaped tattoo on his upper arm. Inside the heart were the letters R, L and M.
‘Rose, Lily and Marjorie?’ He nodded and she kissed the place. ‘Sweet Mary, love and guard them.’
She shifted back onto her elbow. ‘You don’t have to go, Nathaniel,’ she said, twirling her finger through a curl of hair. ‘You’ve been here for ages and no one has yet linked you with the poster outside Wapping nick. Why should they now?’
Nathaniel closed his hand over hers. ‘Maybe, but someone might still and I can’t – won’t – put you in such jeopardy.’
‘Nathaniel, most folks around here can’t even read what it says and those who could wouldn’t know what embezzling was anyhow. Even if they did,’ she continued before he could interrupt her, ‘the fact some judge had found you guilty of it would be enough to cause them to think you harshly treated. The law has no pity for people in these streets, what with magistrates allowing landlords to evict as they will, and the police arresting cripples for selling bootlaces on street corners.’
That was true enough. Most households he delivered to wouldn’t have survived if it weren’t for the under-the-counter or fly-pitch costers who sold them goods at cheaper rates.
‘Twenty pounds reward is a lot of money,’ he said.
‘Not if your friends cut you dead and your landlady turns you out for being a nabber’s nark,’ she answered. ‘Tell me the last time you saw a peeler wander down this way.’
‘I can’t rightly say.’
‘That’s because you’ll only see a bobby in Knockfergus if there’s a murder or something equally horrible, and even then they’ll only come by in threes or fours.’ A heavy lock of Mattie’s hair slipped over her shoulder and feathered over his chest and stomach. Nathaniel willed his eyes to remain on her face. He remembered the letter he’d collected from Smyth-Hilton that morning. It had indicated that they might be only a week or two away from having all they needed to expose Stebbins. Could he . . .?
‘But if they did come and find me?’ he asked, with a great deal more resolve in his voice then he felt.
Placing her hands on his chest, Mattie leant forward. ‘Why, I’d just be telling them that you told me your name was Jack Archer.’
‘I wouldn’t ask you to lie for me,’ he said, knowing she would.
She shrugged and her chemise slipped a little further. ‘And how would they prove otherwise?’
Nathaniel’s gazed drifted down and the urge to roll her under him again swept over him. Somehow he managed to hold it in check. He sat up and took hold of her hands. Her closeness was making it almost impossible for him to think straight without her fingers adding to the distraction.
‘Mattie, if there was another way I would take it, but there isn’t.’ Dangerous though it was to his resolve, he drew her to him. ‘I don’t want to leave but I must.’
Mattie slipped her hands around his neck. ‘It’s Tuesday now. Didn’t you say Smyth whatsisname is back next Monday?’
‘Yes, on the morning train.’
‘Why don’t you stay until you’ve spoken to him? After all, if you just disappear overnight people would want to know why.’
Mattie was right. If he didn’t roll around the streets on the back of number one cart tomorrow it would be the talk of the neighbourhood by dinner time.
‘I’ll stay until I see Smyth-Hilton,’ he said, as his arm slipped around her again.
Mattie moulded herself into him, her breasts pressing against his chest and her thighs brushing against his. Desire flared through him and Nathaniel let it have its way. After all, it was only six days until Monday.
Chapter Twenty
Mattie took the wooden peg from her mouth and wedged it over the last corner of her chemise on the washing line stretched across the kitchen. She glanced out of the window into the small back garden and noticed the wind shaking the empty runner-bean cane. Although the summer had been a scorcher, now, two weeks into September, there was a decidedly autumnal nip to the air.
Nathaniel’s cart, pulled by the sixteen hands dapple grey called Peggy he bought to replace Flossy, rumbled through the gates and he jumped down from the front of the rig. Images of them entwined together stole into her mind and made her cheeks flush.
He had brought Josie and helped her down, then did the same for young Rob who he placed beside his mother. Although Josie wore her loose-fitting jacket, her growing waistline was clearly visible. She was probably only a few weeks away from her confinement. Mattie moved the kettle back onto the heat and had just set the cups and saucers on the table when Josie walked in. Mattie hugged her.
‘You look well,’ Mattie said.
Josie put her hand to the small of her back. ‘I’d be grand if it weren’t for this backache.’ She tilted her head and regarded Mattie. ‘You look a little flushed.’
‘I’
m fine,’ Mattie replied, taking a deep breath and rolling her shoulders. She stretched out her hands. ‘Now, you rest your feet.’
Rob dashed around his mother’s skirts and joined his cousin on the rug mat. The two boys set about organising the toy soldiers into opposing armies. Mattie went to the range to make the tea, managing – with some effort – to keep her eyes from straying to the door. Nathaniel would come in before he set off on the afternoon round. He didn’t need to, but she knew he would.
‘Not long now,’ she said.
‘I can’t wait,’ Josie replied, smoothing her hand over her stomach. ‘I see the new horse is shaping up well.’
Mattie nodded. ‘Jack says she’s a bit spirited, but she’s only five and should settle into the routine in time,’ she said, still finding it strange to think of Nathaniel by his real name and not Jack.
‘So we’ll be seeing Brian trot her around the street in a few years time,’ Josie replied. ‘I saw Eli over by the stable. Is he all right?’
‘He’s as right as ninepence as long as he doesn’t need to use his left arm. Also, with him in the yard I don’t have to keep running out every time a nipper rings the bell for a bucket of coal.’
‘You’ve been busy, too,’ Josie said, pointing to the line of washing. ‘My gran used to call this weather the washerwoman’s answer to prayers.’
Mattie rolled her eyes. ‘Not if she lived in a coal yard. If I tried to hang this lot on the outside line they would be black before I’d pegged the last one up. See what the wind’s already blown in,’ she said, wiping her finger through the fine layer of dust on the windowsill. ‘I only dusted it yesterday and look at it now.’
‘You’ve a lot on your plate now that Kate’s gone. How is she?’
‘She’s fine. The morning sickness has passed and she’s just about starting to show. I’ve upped Freddie’s wages to two pounds a week, and I’m lighting a candle each Sunday at mass in the hope that Kate sees enough of the money to put food on the table.’
‘Mmm . . . And what about Freddie?’
‘Same as ever. Arrives for work late and slopes off as soon as he can. Gives me a look that would lay me in my grave if I ask him to do anything. He and Bessy Buckle are still the gossip on every corner, and there’s whisper of him being drinking pals with Ollie Mac.’
‘No!’ Josie’s jaw dropped. ‘Even he’s not fool enough to take up with the Black Eagle gang, surely.’
‘It seems he is.’
Josie’s shook her head. ‘Oh, dear. Poor you.’
‘Poor Kate! She’s married to him,’ Mattie replied. ‘She came by two days ago and spent an hour telling me how happy she was and that Freddie was looking forward to being a father. I would have been glad to hear it, too, if it wasn’t for the fresh bruise on her cheek.’
‘Perhaps I should mention it to Patrick,’ Josie said, putting her empty cup down.
‘Don’t. It will only make more trouble for Kate. And what can he do? A man has the right to order his household. Even the police won’t step between a man and his wife.’
The door opened and Nathaniel sauntered in.
‘I’m off on the afternoon round now, Mrs Maguire.’
She smiled up at him. ‘Are you?’
‘I am.’ His expression changed subtly for a second then he looked over her head. ‘Billy’s delivering an evening order to Salmon Lane, Mrs Nolan, so I’ve asked him to take you home. I hope that’s all right with you.’
Mattie studied the notch at the base of his throat, revealed between the unbuttoned collar of his shirt.
‘That will be fine, thank you,’ Josie said, from behind Mattie.
Nathaniel’s gaze returned to Mattie. ‘I’ll be back late. At about five.’
‘Good. Because there’s something I need you to go through with me in the office,’ she said, trying to keep the tremor of passion from sounding in her voice.
‘Of course, Mrs Maguire. Anything I can do to help.’
He left the kitchen.
Josie looked amused. ‘So, how long have you and Jack Archer been carrying on, then?’
Mattie’s cheeks burst into flames. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking—’
‘Come on, Mattie,’ Josie chuckled. ‘You could hardly tear your eyes from him and by the look in his eye! Well . . . I’d blush to my roots to say.’ She cupped her chin on her hands. ‘How long?’
Mattie stretched her arms above her head and spread her fingers. ‘Two days,’ she replied breathlessly. She hugged herself as the thrill of the past forty-eight hours washed over her. ‘Two wonderful days that I never thought to see the like of again.’
Josie laughed. ‘No wonder you look so relaxed. So when’s the wedding?’
Mattie made a play of pouring herself another cup of tea. ‘We haven’t decided yet.’
Josie caught Mattie’s hand across the table and squeezed it. ‘You know, you’re as dear to me as my sisters and I’m fair bursting with happiness for you. But don’t leave it too long or you might be having to hold your flowers to hide your waistline from the parson.’
‘You know full well it took me a full six months before I fell with Brian so I think you can put your mind at ease on that score. For a little while at least.’
Kate pressed her forehead to the window pane and gazed down the street. The light was almost gone and the last few stragglers from the docks were trudging their way home but there was still no sign of Freddie.
With a sigh, she turned back into the front room of number ten, Salter Street. If she said it herself, and she shouldn’t, she’d made a fair job of turning the drab ten-by-twelve-foot room into a snug home. The bright flowery curtains she’d bought for thruppence in Rosemary Street market had washed up a treat and the rag rug she’d made added a splash of colour to the room, although she’d had to scrub the floor with carbolic and vinegar before she could set it down.
Wedged in the corner was the cast-iron bed from her room at Maguire’s. She almost cried when Mattie had given it to her because, without her sister’s generosity, the new straw mattress would be on the floor.
The boiling water spat out from the spout and hissed on the hot metal of the grate that sat over the fire. Kate wrapped her apron around her hand and moved it off the heat. She lifted the lid from the saucepan and stirred the thick oxtail stew, which was more turnip and carrot than tail-bone. She began to set their small, wobbly table and bent down to jam the thin block of wood back in place to steady it. As she stood she put her hand in the small of her back to ease the strain. She and Mattie had worked out that the baby would arrive sometime before Christmas so she was well over halfway through her pregnancy.
Kate checked again to make sure everything was just so then returned to the window.
Where was he? she wondered, as she watched the lamp lighters at work.
The lid on the pot rattled and Kate dashed over to stop the stew from spilling over. The front door banged shut. She pinched her cheeks to bring a bit of colour to them. She turned as Freddie came in.
‘Hello,’ she said, giving him her widest smile.
Although his gaze didn’t waver, the smoky smell drifting across from him betrayed the fact that he’d already stopped in at the Admiral. Kate wondered how much of the four pence he’d had in his pocket that morning was still there.
Freddie gave her a sharp look ‘Is supper ready?’
‘Of course, it’s been ready for—’ Kate bit back her words. After an afternoon washing in the back yard she didn’t feel up to bearing the brunt of his ill humour. She ladled a large helping of stew into one of the bowls and handed it to him. ‘It’s oxtail.’
He grunted, picked up his spoon and started. Kate picked up her supper and sat down opposite him. She ran her hand over her workaday clothes and a little hand or foot nudged her palm.
‘Mam says I’m having a boy.’
‘I told you I don’t want you going to your brother’s house.’
‘Mam was at Mattie’s this afternoon,
’ she replied. He didn’t like her visiting Mattie either but as she supplied their coal for free, he suffered it.
Freddie grunted. ‘There ain’t a lot of meat in this. How’s a man supposed to do a full day’s labour on workhouse gruel?’
Kate continued with her own supper.
‘Where’s me tea?’ Freddie asked, pushing his empty bowl away.
‘It’s coming.’
Kate collected their dishes and put them in the enamel bowl ready to take to the pump in the back yard then started making the tea.
The chair by the fire squeaked as Freddie settled himself in it. ‘And it better not be no second-hand tea leaves you’re chucking in that pot. With what I give you each week I should be eating like a king. I don’t know what you do with it all.’
Kate swung around and slammed the tea caddy on the table. ‘You could eat like a king, Freddie Ellis, if you gave me what you spend down the pub each night.’
For a brief instant Freddie’s face registered complete surprise. Kate held her breath.
Anger contorted Freddie’s face and he leapt from the chair. ‘What I do with my money’s my own business.’
‘Yours and the landlord’s,’ said Kate as he loomed over her.
‘You want to watch yourself, girl.’
‘And you want to give me more if you want to be eating scrag-end and drinking fresher tea. There’ll be another mouth to feed soon,’ she replied, wondering how she’d ever thought him handsome.
‘And whose fault is that? You should have been more careful or gone to the old mother in Hobbs Lane.’
Kate’s hands closed over her stomach. ‘I couldn’t do such a wicked thing.’
‘But you didn’t think twice about getting that fecking brother of yours to beat seven types of shite out of me to marry you. Did you?’
‘Fre—’
Light exploded in Kate’s head as Freddie’s hand smacked her across the face. She staggered back against the table, gripping the edge to save herself from falling.
‘Don’t you Freddie me,’ he yelled, as he hit her again.
Black spots popped in front of Kate’s vision but she willed her legs to hold firm and not buckle. Freddie grabbed the back of her hair.
Perhaps Tomorrow Page 22