The Hired Wife

by Cari Hislop

  Charles Smirke pushed past George to claim Marshall’s other ear, “You can’t kill George, he feels things intensely. No one outside the family likes me anyway because I look like Uncle John. If you must kill one of us, kill me.”

  Cosmo pushed Charles out of the way and grabbed Marshall’s arm, “If you must kill someone…I guess it really should be me because I probably deserve it because I never listen to Papa’s lectures. I just stand there and think about all the pretty girls in the village, but if you could just wait until after my wedding night, if I can find a wife, then you can kill me. I’m nineteen and I’ve never kissed a woman. I don’t want to die.”

  Marshall stared in shock at the beautiful Cosmo, “You haven’t kissed a woman? What’s wrong with you?”

  “Papa says I try too hard…”

  “Well you won’t find any kisses in my wife’s room. Wipe your nose and go play elsewhere. She’s tired and needs rest.” After herding the young men out of the room Marshall paused to meet his wife’s frightened eyes.

  “Must you go? I don’t want to be on my own.”

  “Lock the door. I need to speak with Henry.”

  …

  On his way back down the hillside Marshall found Alyce staring down at the lake with unseeing eyes, twirling her parasol. “Alyce, have you seen Henry?”

  “What?”

  “Have you seen Henry?”

  “When?”

  “I simply wish to know his general direction.”

  “He’s on the other side of the lake shooting birds.”

  “Well that’s helpful.” She appeared deaf to sarcasm. “Alyce…”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Look at me!” She slowly turned in his direction. “Has Henry tried to kiss you?”

  “Why would he kiss me?” Her sudden interest in his cravat answered his question.

  “Blast his impudence! Stay away from Henry.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s dangerous.”

  Alyce looked at her brother with offended disgust, “Don’t be absurd. Morley wouldn’t hurt me, he’s my…friend.”

  “Get back to the house and stay with Emily.”

  “Do you want me to die of boredom or sprout rabbit ears and hop from room to room an old maid?”

  “Don’t be rude and stay away from Henry.”

  “I happen to enjoy Morley’s company which is why I accepted his offer to take me driving this evening with the old women. I suppose you’re going to tell me I can’t share the company of a rakehell with his mother and my aunt?”

  “You may take your drive if the old women will remain with you at all times, but otherwise stay away from Henry. The man made a joke about killing his wife if he so much as thought she’d taken a lover.”

  “If you can’t appreciate Morley’s humour I suggest you find a new friend.”

  “You wouldn’t find it humorous if he poisoned you.”

  “Morley wouldn’t poison me, he…he’s not that kind of man.”

  “And you know this because you’ve lived nineteen years? I’ve lived forty-three years. I’m your guardian, and you’ll do as I say.”

  Alyce merely looked at him with amused contempt, “And if you weren’t my guardian?”

  “Then I’d think your husband sorely tried. Stay away from Henry.”

  “I’m not deaf, I heard you the first time.”

  Marshall blanched at the well aimed blow, “I hope the man who marries you is heartless; he won’t be disappointed when he learns your chest is empty.”

  “I have a heart; it’s just particular about whom it chooses to love.”

  “You sound more like Henry by the day.”

  “Praise indeed.” Marshall turned away shaking his head as he set off down the hill. He was going to have to give Aunt Beatrice a long lecture about keeping Alyce away from Henry. The silence of the lake was suddenly disturbed by the sound of barking dogs, flapping wings and echoing gunshot. The unpleasant memory of a neighbour accidentally shot and killed by visiting friends while hunting overwhelmed his senses. He could smell blood and see the strange look of relief on the grieving friend as he looked at the corpse in the cart. Every year men were accidentally killed by friends; was there an easier way to kill a man and avoid the hangman? Marshall’s abruptly stopped as his heart pumped icy blood through his body. He had to return to Mary. Feeling cold, Marshall turned and raced back up the hill.

  …

  The quiet stillness of the evening country air complemented the peaceful domestic scene in Marshall’s chamber. Lounging on a delicate settee, his book of poetry dangled forgotten over his knee as he watched Mary pick up ivory bobbins and tie knots in a mesmerizing pattern that was slowly creating lace. Catching Mary’s admiring glance he smiled and bent over and kissed her cheek, “There’s someone knocking on the door.” Marshall scowled at the locked door and threw down his book.

  He turned the key and opened it a crack, “What do you want Hussy?”

  Alyce gave her brother a superior smile and patted his cheek with her gloved hand, “We’ve safely returned from our moonlit ride; I thought you’d like to know. We went to visit the little Saxon chapel on the next hill. You should have been there, the vicar lit twelve torches along the walls…it was a dream come true.”

  “That’s the last time you go anywhere with Henry, do you understand?” Alyce’s amused giggle deepened her brother’s scowl. “Do as you’re told or you’ll be wearing the same dresses next season.”

  “I dare say I’ll be wearing red.”

  “And I dare say you’ll be doing as you’re told or marrying the first rich fool who asks for your hand.”

  Alyce Godfrey smirked as if he’d said something amusing. “I shall be married before Emily and to someone who’ll to buy me whatever I wish.”

  “You’ll have my blessing as long as it’s not Henry or one of his friends.”

  “Heaven forbid I should marry my own brother…”

  Marshall’s sapphire eyes sparkled with fury, “Crude wit is neither becoming nor amusing in a woman.”

  “Morley thinks me amusing; we had a wonderful drive and an evening picnic on the ancient altar. The old women thought the evening so magical they cried half way through the entrée. I’m feeling rather…” Alyce artistically covered an exaggerated yawn with her hand. “Good night Marshall I shall sleep in late tomorrow. Don’t expect me at breakfast. Good night Mary.”

  “Good night Alyce.”

  “Good riddance!” Marshall stuck his tongue at the back of his sister and relocked the door. “She becomes more impertinent by the day.” Before he could return to the settee Mary stood holding her lace pillow. “Where are you going?”

  “I should retire, it’s getting late.”

  “Must you?”

  “I’m tired.”

  Marshall ensnared her waist with an arm, “Shall we go for a walk tomorrow morning and see if we can find the lady of the lake? When we’re out of sight of the house may I kiss you behind your parasol? You don’t hate me for thinking you were chasing a Smirke child, do you? I haven’t ruined all hope of winning your heart have I?”

  “No.”

  “I’ll come for you at eight. We’ll walk down by the lake.”

  “Will we miss breakfast?”

  “I wouldn’t dare deprive you of food. You might faint on the way up the hill and fall before I could catch you. Merry…” Mary smiled as he pulled her close enough to smell her cheek. “Merry Heart, we’ve been married at least three weeks, can’t you give me a hint at what you’ll be feeling for me after three months?”

  “I wouldn’t trust myself to say.”

  Marshall’s shoulders slumped. “If you know sooner…”

  “Please don’t scowl Marshall. I don’t know what I feel; I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “The only thing that will hurt is if you leave me. I grow more attached to my wife by the hour. I could be a brute and deny you an annulment…I could lie and insist we’ve had carnal k
nowledge.”

  “That wouldn’t make you happy.”

  “I certainly won’t be happy if you choose to scrub someone’s floor rather than warm my bed. Ah, you’re blushing; is the thought of having my ugly brats tempting you?”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “I give you permission to go to bed and dream of me.” Marshall reluctantly withdrew his arm from her waist and pretended to turn his attention to taking off his clothes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her hesitating at his shoulder. Was she hoping for a kiss? He suddenly longed to hear her ask for a kiss. It would at least be an admission that she enjoyed his nearness. It would be something.

  “Pleasant dreams Marshall…” Marshall pretended he didn’t hear as he fumbled with the knot in his cravat. He waited several minutes before looking at the door connecting their rooms. It was closed. He sank onto the nearest chair and tried to will the fear of failure from his heart. He didn’t dare tell her he loved her. Why would she believe him when he barely believed it himself? She’d probably think his sincere declaration was a lie, an attempt to persuade her to stay. His heart begged for acknowledgement, but his head once again took control. He didn’t want her to stay out of pity. Henry’s theory was beginning to sound more tempting by the hour. Marshall’s heart would need to know if she loved him not his table, but why would she return to his gilded cage if he set her free? If he gave her a house and an annuity she might decide to sell the house and move away where he couldn’t visit her every day. Did he set her free and gamble everything or keep her caged and hope for the best? In either case, he only had about two months ‘till judgement day. The weeks were passing and he was still trying think of some way to win her heart. Accusing her of chasing Smirkes was hardly going to win her heart.

  As he crawled into bed, Henry’s cruel monologue replayed in his brain. What if Henry was a monster? What if Merry was right? What if Henry had intended to force himself on her? Marshall’s blood boiled as endless unpleasant possibilities lulled Marshall into nightmares.

  Chapter 11

  Mary woke feeling tired, her red puffy eyes publicising the night’s unpleasant dreams, but she was ready for her morning walk when the connecting door to Marshall’s room vibrated with his pounding knock, “Merry? Are you decent?” Thirty seconds later Marshall stuck his head into the room. “Ah, the perfect woman is ready in her cloak and bonnet just as I’d hoped.”

  Mary tore her eyes away from the dazzling scene outside the window and smiled as her husband closed the distance in five strides. “Good morning Marshall, did you sleep well?”

  “As well as a man can when his wife makes him sleep alone…ah she blushes. I feel hope breathing down my neck.”

  “I heard you disagreeing with Buckingham’s valet earlier.”

  “The mincing fop took it upon himself to assist me. He disagreed with my choice of colours so I gave him the boot.” Marshall took hold of Mary’s face and turned it into the light, “Your eyes are red.” It was a command for more information.

  “I sometimes wake up crying from a bad dream…it’s nothing.”

  “What did you dream about?” Mary’s lips remained firmly pinched in defiant silence.

  “It’s one of your merry rules; you must answer direct questions with the absolute truth.”

  “Only if I choose to answer the…”

  “Answer the question, that’s an order.”

  Mary sighed as she slowly met the insistent sapphire gaze, “It was just a stupid dream that went on and on.”

  “And in the dream?”

  “You decided I wasn’t a suitable wife. One hundred beautiful ladies with impeccable breeding applied to be your wife and you made me choose one for you. I wanted to stay as your chamber maid, but you said it would upset your wife.”

  Marshall’s angry eyes crinkled into amused laughter as he wrapped his arms around Mary’s shoulders and kissed her forehead, “Who could replace perfection? Perhaps this evening you won’t be so stingy with your kisses.”

  “I can’t be perfect and stingy. Am I supposed to beg for kisses?”

  “If you wish to be impudent, in future you’ll ask for kisses or go without.”

  “Is that why I didn’t get a kiss before bed?”

  “I don’t have to answer impertinent questions.”

  “So unless I ask for regular kisses you’ll suffer an agony of deprivation? How will you survive?” Marshall growled as he pulled his laughing wife close. “May I have a kiss my Lord?”

  “Your impudence will be thoroughly punished before breakfast down by the lake.” Marshall reluctantly released his hold. “Bring your umbrella; it’s larger than your parasol. We can huddle underneath it as we admire the scenery.”

  “I think I do see rain clouds looming behind that wall of bright blue sky.”

  “That’s one of the reasons I…” Marshall bit his lip as he searched for an alternative word to love. “…I think you’re perfect.” He pulled her hand to his lips before tucking it under his arm. “You’re the most perfect perfection ever perfected.”

  “If you say so, though I question your judgement of perfection.”

  “Mind your impudence doesn’t cost you ten kisses.”

  “Do you mean to punish by addition or subtraction my Lord?”

  “Stop laughing at me or you’ll wait till after lunch for your kisses. A man doesn’t want to feel verbally bested before eleven, it ruins his digestion.”

  …

  The breakfast parlour’s aging pink silk shimmered white as morning light poured into the room past the two old women and dazzled the walls. Blind to the fading charms of the room, the Dowager Lady Morley sipped her morning chocolate and bestowed a rusty smile upon her breakfast companion, “The Gods are smiling on us Beatrice. How could they not shower us with sunlight on the first day…” Lady Morley looked about to make sure the footman near the door couldn’t hear. “…I don’t know why Morley insists we be so secretive. Your nephew should feel honoured; Morley is quite a catch.”

  “What do you expect from a man who married a starving nobody? He could have snapped his fingers and married his cousin Carolyn twenty years ago. By twenty-one she was so desperate she snuck into Old Q’s London townhouse and locked herself in his bedchamber. Unfortunately he was away at Newmarket for the month. The fool nearly starved to death before the maids found her…she’d thrown all her clothes out the window.”

  Lady Morley sneered in amusement, “It’s a pity she didn’t die. At least her mother would have been spared a constant reminder she gave birth to a fish.”

  “I understand her mother is looking for a suitable convent.”

  “I’m quite pleased with Morley’s choice. My grandchildren will be commendably attractive. Too much beauty is intolerably vulgar.” Lady Morley sipped her chocolate as she ignored painful memories of loving a beautiful man.

  “True, take for example those horrid Smirkes. They’d be far more agreeable if their faces were scarred by smallpox or their teeth were black. They might even be more humble. Have you ever met such conceited insolent coxcombs?”