by Cari Hislop
Morley rolled contemptuous eyes towards his mother. “The water is perfectly safe. I’ve seen larger waves in my hipbath. Sit down and have another glass of wine.”
“I will not. You will row me back immediately.”
“We’ll row back after I’ve toured the ruins.”
“That could take an hour.”
“Then I’ll row you back in an hour. If those little waves frighten you, you should have stayed with the smirking cowards.”
“Morley…” The old woman’s voice trembled with tears.
“Lady Morley, please allow me to row you back.” Buckingham picked up the old woman’s parasol and held it out. “I’d quite enjoy a row on the lake as long as Emily accompanies me?”
“I’d love to see you row Bucky.” She turned to Morley with a disapproving expression, “If you’re trying to persuade us you’re heartless, you’re succeeding.”
Alyce scowled at her sister and put a possessive hand on her husband’s arm, “I think you should show the Marquis of Morley more respect.”
“Why? Look, he’s even amused. He knows he’s heartless. I hope you’re not stupid enough to marry the wretch, he’d only make you miserable.”
Morley restrained Alyce from attacking her sister with an iron grip as he smiled at the identical woman. “Come now Lady Emily, I’m not nearly as bad as you imagine.”
“No, I’m sure you’re worse.” Morley lost interest in Emily as he caught Mary’s fearful glance. Bowing his head in her direction he leered as she visibly shuddered. There was an indefinable quality to the woman, a desirability that defied logic. She was penniless, plain and in dire need of curves, but the thought of owning her made his vital organs spasm with a rush of heated blood. Socially speaking she’d be a worthless consort, but he wouldn’t want to share her. He’d keep her on a tight short rope at his country seat. He’d never tire of tasting her fear; she’d be the perfect wife.
His mother would oppose the match with venom, but if the old woman refused to accept his choice she’d soon be silenced. Another deadly accident and everyone would blame the Fitzalan curse. Mary Godfrey would fight like a she-devil every time he bed her. She’d hate him for killing Marshall, but that would ensure she’d never willingly submit. The thought made his heart race with anticipation.
With any luck the following week would be filled with all sorts of new pleasures, but first he’d give his latest illegal wife the heave ho! Alyce Godfrey was a beauty, but her lack of fear and incessant demands that they publicise their wedding were becoming tiresome. The chit was a dead bore. If Alyce had any sense she’d keep her lost virtue a secret. In the mean time she was a convenient body on which to vent his frustrated desire. If she got with child he’d simply deny responsibility. By the time the babe was old enough to be identified as a Fitzalan Marshall would have long died in some tragic accident leaving his widow free to remarry. There’d be no one to challenge him over Alyce’s fallen state or Mary’s enforced nuptials. Morley smiled at the thought of making Mary Godfrey his property. She’d soon be in his clutches and then he’d spend endless euphoric hours inhaling her fear from an intimate position.
…
Mary watched Marshall help the two older ladies and Emily into the boat and then push the four away from the island before turning to smile at her. Her imagination was seeing things again. The man did not adore her. He might like her, but he was merely intent on keeping his wife so he wouldn’t have to hunt down a replacement. His eyes suddenly swerved towards the castle as he scowled at Morley and Alyce. “Merry…” He held out his hand and pulled her after the laughing couple. “…Henry only needs five solitary minutes to ruin an innocent.”
The oversized studded oak door creaked open revealing an empty chamber. Mary shivered as she stepped inside the cavernous room lit by seven rays of light squeezing through keyhole shaped arrow slits. There was no sign of spider webs, bats or birds nests; the uneven flag stones had been recently scrubbed. Alyce followed Morley up a narrow flight of stairs forcing Mary and Marshall to follow.
The steps were narrow wedges of stone winding around a stone spindle and there was nothing on the wall to hold. Casting her eyes back down the way they’d come Mary pressed her back to the outside wall and turned to look into Marshall’s eyes almost level with hers, “If you were of a mind to replace your wife, this would be a most opportunistic time to encourage me to lose my balance. You wouldn’t have to do more than sneeze, these stairs are frightening. How did the servants run up and down them without breaking their necks?”
“They knew it was faster to die of a broken neck then an arrow in the eye.”
“That’s a cheerful manly thought.”
“Yes and I can’t go around you without falling and breaking my neck so you’ll have to keep going. Hurry, I don’t want to leave Morley alone with Alyce. Don’t give me that look Perfect Woman. I don’t want to find my sister ruined and regret kissing you.” His whisper spiralled through the castle, “Up you get unless you want to be a merry widow.”
“I don’t think I’d be very merry my Lord. Would you catch me if I fell?”
“I should certainly attempt it, but I might fail. The thought is too dreadful; where would I find another merry mermaid?” Mary smiled at the light words and impulsively kissed Marshall’s lips before running up the stairs with her feet kept close to the wall on the widest part of the wedge. “Slow down!” His voice boomed off stone as her skirts vanished around the curve. “Merry?” In the half light, Mary didn’t realise she was on a landing until Morley reached out and grabbed her. Choking with terror, Mary was momentarily dangled over the dark stairwell before being pulled into a small antechamber. She could hear Alyce at the end of a narrow passage calling for Mary’s captor to follow. Morley paused to smile at his victim. Mary tried to yank free, but the fingers on her arm squeezed tighter as he pinned her against his chest.
“After I make you a widow, I’m going to make you a Marchioness.” Stunned by the meaning of his words, Mary was frozen with fear as Morley leaned forward and slowly licked her lips. “Delicious…”
“Merry?” Morley released his grip as Marshall leapt through the doorway.
“You’re becoming negligent old man. I had to catch your wife; she nearly fell down the stairs. You should take better care of her. We never know when the angel of death will call out our names…do we my Lady?” Mary pulled free and flung herself against Marshall’s chest and sobbed into his waist coat.
“Sweet Merry, I told you not to run.” Strong arms wrapped around her middle holding her tight. “You’re safe now Merry Wife, I’ve got you…”
Morley leaned toward Marshall’s right ear and groped Mary’s unprotected derrière making her flinch deeper into her husband’s embrace with a strangled cry. “One of my older brothers died falling down a similar flight of stairs. We’d gone to the top to fly kites. I’ll never forget the sight of his head at an improbable angle; gruesome.”
“Alyce!” Marshall’s voice boomed off the stone walls. “We need to leave, Merry’s upset.”
“Henry, tell Marshall to take Mary and her vapours away and come look at this view.”
Morley blew a lungful of air over Mary’s neck making her writhe in disgust. “I’ll fetch Alyce. Be careful on the way down Marshall. It would be a tragedy if you fell holding Mary.”
Whistling a cheerful tune, Morley disappeared behind a curtain of stone. “Merry Heart; you’re pale. Do you need a kiss?” Mary blushed as the words thundered through the castle, out every opening in the stone walls and over the water. “Ah, your cheeks once again have colour. Follow me down the stairs and don’t try to pass me or we’ll both end up at the bottom with broken necks. There’s no need to cry woman. I’m not going to die Merry, not at least for another three months. I hope to persuade my magical wife to love me, at least for my kisses. Ah, she smiles…the sooner we reach the beach, the longer I’ll have to kiss you.” At the bottom Marshall paused, “Can you hear them coming?”
> “No.”
“Alyce! Come down here or I’ll come up there and drag you down. Alyce? “What can you hear?” Mary couldn’t tell him that muffled giggles above had gurgled into loud moans. “Merry? Where are you going? I need your help… Blast!” Mary was already out the door and hurrying for the boat, but the unnerving sounds floated out of the narrow windows above and followed her to the boat. “Merry Donne, take your fingers out of your ears!” She would have heard the angry roar behind her from the opposite side of the lake. “When I need your ears I expect you to use them. Stay here and don’t get into the boat without me. I’m going back for Alyce, though it’s probably too late. The hussy will believe his lies of marriage and lift her skirts and then I’ll be stuck with her ‘till she dies of the pox.”
Mary grabbed his arm and held it with all her strength. “Don’t go back in there, I beg you.”
“I can’t leave my sister alone with Henry.”
“Please don’t go back in there. He threatened to kill you. He’ll push you down the stairs. Didn’t you hear what he said? He killed his brother!”
“That’s absurd. He was a barely nine when his brother fell and broke his neck. Are you saying he started a well planned murderous career as a child to become the Lord of Morley? He’s only trying to frighten you. If he won’t leave you alone I’ll pummel him senseless.”
“Alyce and Emily told me about Morley’s incredible good fortune. How lucky was it that a fourth son had all his older brothers and father die in unexplained accidents? I tell you he threatened your life.”
“His father drank himself to death and what would he gain from my death?”
“There was talk that his father was poisoned. Morley’s evil; he said he was going to make me a widow and then make me his wife. He threatened to kill you!”
“Henry doesn’t really want you; he’s just playing with you out of boredom like a cat with a mouse…” Petrified with fear, Mary couldn’t hear Marshall as Morley swaggered towards them and then stop behind her husband and yawn. He held her gaze with a look of lust as he slowly licked his lips. Her stomach churned as she remembered to feel of his slimy foul smelling tongue licking her. “…he’d never dream of…”
“I’d never dream of what?”
“Henry? Where’s Alyce?”
“She’s coming.” He yawned again as his eyes half closed as he continued to stare at her. “Climbing treacherous stairs makes one cursed fatigued. Am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel or are you quarrelling over me? How prosaic; your hired wife is poisoning you against your only friend. I wonder why she’d do that. Perhaps she wishes to alienate you from kith and kin so she can more easily persuade you to change your will in her favour?”
“Merry hasn’t a deceitful bone in her body.”
“She certainly has plenty of bones. Ponder this Marshall; if she thinks me capable of unpardonable wickedness, what must she think of you? Birds of a feather sin together.”
“I find your attempts to turn me against my wife utterly offensive.”
“Oh please, next you’ll accuse me of being jealous. I’m merely concerned for your well-being Marshall. She’s sweet I’m sure, but how long have you known her? She might love you today, but what of tomorrow? Women are creatures with fickle hearts. They’re like butterflies flitting from flower to flower. Were we to punish them for being women we’d never know a moment’s pleasure.”
“You’re an aging cynic Henry; a dog who eats his vomit when the table above is set for a King.”
“Perhaps, but I’ve found the more eager a woman is to condemn a man, the more likely she is to harbour a tender passion for her victim. You can’t blame me if your wife desires a more experienced lover.”
“I’ve never heard anything so stupid; my wife doesn’t want anything to do with you.”
“So she says…you haven’t seen how she looks at me when we’re alone.”
“Keep your lies for some other dolt. Alyce, I’m leaving. Either come get in the boat or stay here ‘till a footman rows over for you.” His sister appeared around the side of the castle at a leisurely stroll, her sopping skirt moulded over her curves. “Why the devil is your skirt wet? What did she say?”
“She says she needed to rinse a stain off her skirt.”
Marshall rolled his eyes, “Next time leave the stains for the maid. Come here; I’ll lift you into the boat.”
“Henry?”
“You’re wet. Your brother will lift you.”
“I’d rather you lifted me into the boat.”
“I might get wet. Mother would be irate if I caught a chill and died before spawning a legal heir…”
Alyce scowled at her husband as Marshall lifted her into the boat and shrugged out of his coat. “Put it on. I don’t want you dying of fever before some other man is financially responsible for your funeral.” She watched with a sour expression as Morley stood in the water holding the boat for Marshall and Mary. Smiling, he nearly tipped the seated passengers into the lake as he hopped in spraying Mary’s back.
…
The silent party bobbed over bloated grey waves as Marshall’s arms strained to return them to shore before the rising wind capsized the boat. His earlier euphoria had been flattened into bittersweet irritation as Morley’s poisonous words stung his heart. In between glancing backwards to make sure he was on course he stared at his passengers. His previously cheerful wife looked about to drown in melancholy, her fearful eyes staring at the water as if she’d welcome its depths. She sat scrunched up against the side of the boat apparently trying to avoid Morley’s foot resting beside her on the middle perch. Alyce was clearly displeased with her companion. Her pursed lips pointed at the dosing Lord with a look of silent resentment he knew all too well. With an arm draped around Alyce and his left foot resting against Mary, Henry was smiling in his sleep like man who’d pleasured a harem.
By the time they reached the shore both ladies were shivering as the sky lashed the countryside with a vicious wet whip. Scowling at the long climb to the top of the hill Alyce turned to Morley, “Will you carry me?”
Feeling someone tug on his coat, Marshall turned to see his sister mouthing her irritation and slapping Morley’s chest. “What?”
“Your sister wants to be carried up the hill, she says she tired and sore.”
Marshall looked from his wet sister to his wet wife. “Merry needs me; pull her up the hill.”
Alyce collapsing against a boulder and sobbed, “I can’t make it…I’ll die!” Marshall growled in irritation as he glanced at Mary clutching her wet hem above her ankles with one hand and held her hat in place with the other as she began the ascent.
Muttering a curse into the wind he stomped over to his sister. “Make sure you find a husband who enjoys lifting large weights in the driving rain. What are you crying for? You’re getting your way Hussy. Next time leave your stains for the maid instead of jumping into the lake.”
Marshall passed Merry and called out, “Wait here, I’ll come back for you.”
He’d nearly reached the top when his sister squirmed nearly sending them both down the wet slippery steps. Peering over his shoulder she screamed in his ear, “Henry!” Marshall dropped his sister on her feet and turned to see Mary sprawled face down on the stone steps.
Horrified, he raced back down the hill. “Merry? Are you hurt?” Her wet face looked deathly pale against the red stone; she was forcibly trying to pull free of Morley’s grip. “Let go of my wife!”
Morley shrugged his shoulders and took several steps back down the hill, “She tripped and fell. Your silly wife thinks me so wicked she won’t even let me help her up. What sort of upbringing creates that kind of mind? It’s a good thing she isn’t going to have your children; they’d probably grow up to be melancholic hysterics.”
“Shut up Henry! Perfect woman…” Mary wrapped an arm tightly around his throat as Marshall heaved her slender frame into his arms and glared at his old friend, “Stay away from my wife or I’ll pum
mel you senseless.”