by Tania Crosse
Rose blinked at him, and the absurdity of it drew a bitter laugh from her throat. She was perfectly capable of making some tea herself, of cooking the meal, black-leading the range. But since the day she had married Charles, she hadn’t been allowed to do anything. Charles saw to it that Cook and Patsy, the housemaid, attended her every need, wanting her to live the pampered life of a lady, but it just wasn’t her. And though he treated her like a princess during the day, in their bed she was no more than a human marionette to satisfy his carnal lust.
‘If I don’t go out, I think I shall go mad!’ she told him, flames of crimson burning in her cheeks. ‘And if you’re not man enough to brave a spot of rain, then I shall go alone, just like I always used to!’
They glared at each other, eyes locked in raging conflict, Charles looking as if he might explode and Rose’s chin lifted high with audacity.
‘But you’re a married woman now,’ Charles hissed, glancing over his shoulder as if he were afraid they would be overheard. ‘And I won’t have my wife gallivanting all over the place looking like some rain-drenched witch for everyone to see.’
‘Huh!’ she snorted, her eyes glinting a livid indigo. ‘And who’s going to stop me, tell me that? How many of your London dignitaries am I likely to meet, anyway?’
Charles inflated his chest. ‘Rose, I forbid you to go!’
‘Forbid me?’
‘Yes! And it’ll hardly do Gospel any good.’
Rose stared at him, her lips knotted as anger pumped through her veins. But the mention of Gospel’s welfare pulled her up short. She hated to admit it, but perhaps Charles was right.
She lowered her eyes. ‘All right. But I am going out to the stables for a while. You won’t object to that, I take it?’
‘No, of course not.’ His face slackened with relief as he turned away, drawing deeply on the cigar as he went.
‘And Charles, please don’t smoke in the same room as my father. I’ve asked you before. You know his lungs were weakened in the accident.’
‘I’m so sorry, my dear. I’d forgotten. I’ll finish my cigar in the study. I’ve some business matters to catch up on anyway.’ And so saying, he disappeared into the study, closing the door quietly behind him.
Rose sank down on the bottom stair with a weary sigh. She didn’t like arguing. But lately she seemed to be doing just that more and more. It was just that Charles didn’t want her to do anything without him, and it was driving her insane. The carefree independence Henry had always allowed her had been taken from her overnight, but if she had to obey her husband, she wasn’t going to give in without a fight!
She went out through the back door, shrugging into her voluminous waterproof that hung in the small boot room and changing into her riding boots, as she could hardly go out to the stables in the soft kid shoes she was wearing. Fortunately she was dressed in a modest outfit with a russet skirt that would not spoil, though she picked up the hem as she ran across the stable yard, dodging the puddles and bending her head so that the driving rain simply ran down the back of the waterproof hood. Gospel occupied the loose box at the far end in the corner because, with the dog-leg, it was by far the largest. Inside, it was warm and dry, the fragrance of clean straw fresh and welcoming, for it had to be said that Ned Cornish cared well for the three horses in his charge, Charles having acquired, as promised, a wagonette converted for Henry’s use and a pretty roan called Merlin to pull it. The work was hardly onerous, but Ned was diligent enough. He would hardly want to lose his comfortable position, now, would he? The only task he was apt to skimp on was grooming Gospel, since the highly strung animal retained the habit of sinking his teeth into anyone he disliked, Ned in particular. So Rose picked up the brush and began to attend to Gospel’s tail, as Ned had been on the receiving end of a well-aimed hoof twice in the last week. Gospel whinnied softly, turning his long, sleek neck to nudge her shoulder. She laughed, her heart soothed as she kissed his soft muzzle, and by the time she had untangled the long, coarse hair and the rest of his coat was gleaming, she felt at peace once more and ready to face the fray.
She wreathed her arms about his neck, her cheek pressed against his strong muscled shoulder and whispering into his warm flesh before she braved the weather again, but not without first slipping into the adjacent box where Tansy, the chestnut mare, was lying contentedly on the thick carpet of straw. Rose knelt down, stroking the docile creature’s pretty head and alert ears.
‘Happy as a lark, that one, not like that brute o’ yourn.’
Rose looked up. Ned was leaning indolently over the lower half of the stable door, supposedly oblivious to the continuing downpour and chewing on a blade of straw.
‘’Tis not my fault Gospel doesn’t like you,’ Rose answered, and went back to running her fingers through Tansy’s mane.
‘And what about you, Rose? Do you like me?’
Rose shrugged as Ned came in and crouched down beside her. They remained shoulder to shoulder in silent admiration of Tansy’s smooth, bright coat for some moments before Rose glanced at him askance. ‘’Tis a strange question when I’ve known you for years,’ she finally answered.
‘I like you, Rose. Very much.’ Ned’s voice was suddenly very close to her ear and his hand closed over hers as she stroked Tansy’s hairy neck. ‘’Tis why I wanted this job. To be near you. Even if it means being bitten by that nag next door. You wouldn’t mind now, would you? Just one little kiss? I mean, now that you know what ’tis like to be bedded?’
Rose was so shocked, she didn’t have time to regain her senses and come back with a scathing retort before Ned turned to her, grasping the back of her head and kissing her so fiercely he lost his balance and fell on top of her.
‘Get off me, you great lummox!’
To her surprise, she found she wasn’t particularly vexed or afraid, but rather she was irritated by his behaviour, for she knew how to handle a numbskull such as Ned Cornish, especially now she knew what it was men were after! She managed to free one hand, and before Ned could dodge it, she slapped her palm across his face with a resounding wallop. He pulled back sharply, his eyes flashing with anger.
‘That weren’t fair, Rose!’ he protested. ‘I’ve given up a lot for you! All they maids I used to bring back to the stables at the Albert Inn. I cas’n bring no one back yere! Just one little favour?’
His gaze dipped meaningfully towards her breasts, and with a cry of indignation, she pushed him aside and scrambled to her feet. ‘How dare you, Ned Cornish!’ she snarled, glowering down at him with intense loathing. ‘I’ve a good mind to tell my husband, and you’ll be out on your ear!’
‘Oh, yes?’ Ned sneered, unconsciously nursing the reddening fingermarks on his cheek. ‘And what if I tells him that you were making up to us? He might just believe us, seeing as he seems to be the jealous type, and you might be the one to come off worse, like!’
Rose’s head jerked backwards, her eyes blazing and her chest heaving with resentment. Ned Cornish, towards whom she had never felt anything but indifference, was shrewder than she had given him credit for. Fury bubbled inside her now and it cost her dearly to swallow it down. For he could have a point.
‘All right,’ she conceded, though it tore at her heart to do so. ‘But I’ll remember this!’
And so shall I! Ned thought venomously to himself.
Rose spun on her heel and charged out of the loose box in a maddened temper. She cursed herself, for the torrential rain at once lashed into her face, trickling down her neck, and, too late, she pulled the hood of her waterproof over her head as she scurried across the stable yard.
It was then that she saw him, a bedraggled, sodden vision of dripping grey fur, short black snout and huge doleful eyes that gazed beggingly at her as he limped through the puddles. Rose peered at him through the rain, mesmerized as he came and sat at her feet, his tail sweeping the wet cobbles as he whined at her beseechingly.
‘Oh, you poor thing! Where on earth did you come from?’ And she s
cooped the pathetic mongrel into her arms and carried him inside.
‘You don’t expect us to keep that mangy creature, do you?’ Charles asked with mild amusement as he climbed into bed that night.
‘I assume you mean Scraggles?’ Rose replied indignantly. She was sitting up, hugging her knees beneath the blankets, and for once the nightly ritual was far from her thoughts. ‘And he isn’t mangy. He was cold and wet and hungry, and one of his paw pads was badly cut, but if we can’t find his owners, what else can we do but keep him? Oh, please, Charles? He and Amber really seem to like each other.’
Charles shook his head with a chuckle. ‘Well, if we really can’t find who he belongs to—’
‘Oh, thank you, Charles!’
For the first time since their marriage, she snuggled up beside him as he settled into bed, her head resting on his shoulder. The disruption caused by the unexpected arrival of the endearing stray dog had thrown the entire household into turmoil, and Rose’s aching soul had been distracted. It had started her thinking. Perhaps if she had other matters to keep her occupied, she might be able to be a better wife. Might deplore Charles’s physical attentions a little less. Which for once he didn’t seem in too much of a hurry to begin, his arm around her simply drawing her closely against him.
‘Charles?’ she began cautiously, though her heart had suddenly begun to beat like a battering ram as she considered how to broach the subject that had been at the back of her mind for some time. ‘Charles, I’ve been thinking. When you have to go to London . . . even when you’re here . . . what would you think of the idea of my having a lady’s maid?’
She had said the last words quickly, before she lost the courage, but Charles merely raised his eyebrows in surprise.
‘A lady’s maid, eh? Hmm,’ he appeared to reflect slowly. ‘Well, it mightn’t be a bad idea. Certainly when you accompany me to London – which I hope you will soon – it would be good to have someone to make sure you’re correctly attired. And to keep you company when I have to attend to business matters. Accompany you to art galleries, that sort of thing. Mrs Bennett is hardly suitable, and besides, she needs to stay here to look after your father. All in all, I think it’s an excellent idea,’ he nodded approvingly. ‘We must put an advertisement in the Western Morning News, or perhaps one of the London papers would be better.’
‘Oh, I don’t think we need to advertise. Molly would be ideal.’
‘Molly Cartwright!’ Charles jerked so violently that Rose’s head slipped from his shoulder. ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘But Molly would be perfect! We’re such good friends and—’
‘Rose, you need a trained lady’s maid to see you are suitably dressed in the latest fashion, that your hair is properly done, and, especially when we go to London, that you are versed in all the ways of society etiquette. I hate to say it, but you have a great deal to learn in that direction! If you were to employ Miss Cartwright, you would have to be teaching her the little you know yourself, and she would bring nothing but ignominy upon us! Besides which, I cannot have my wife associating so closely with some little trollop whose father is no more than a turnkey at our most infamous prison!’
Rose sat up abruptly and she turned on him eyes that glinted like the flash of the sun on polished silver. ‘How dare you speak of Molly like that? She’s bright and intelligent, and just because she comes from a working-class background, doesn’t make her any worse than you or I! They’re a good, honest, hardworking family, and I defy anyone to—’
‘Oh, you are so beautiful when you’re angry!’ Charles almost laughed at her, but then his eyes hardened icily. ‘But you will not have Molly Cartwright as your lady’s maid!’
‘I shall have Molly or no one!’ Rose grated between fiercely clenched teeth.
‘Then no one it shall be, and there’s an end to it.’ Charles’s mouth closed in a firm line as he jabbed his head towards her, but then his face softened and he smiled suggestively at her as he fingered a thick lock of her cascading curls. ‘Now then, before this conversation, I believe we were enjoying an intimate moment together, so if you don’t mind, I’d like you to lie down again so that we can get back to where we were and begin afresh. Now, my lovely girl, have you forgotten that we need to do something before we go to sleep?’
For several seconds, Rose continued to glare at him, convinced that she was about to explode with resentment. He was mocking her. Humiliating her. And yet if she demonstrated her anger, fought him, it would be as if he had won. As if she really was the ignorant child he was making her out to be. Inside, she was seething, but she lay down like the submissive wife, keeping perfectly still while Charles satisfied his need. And each thrust of his body seemed to drive another nail into her fading affection for him. She had tried. Had wanted to love him. But she couldn’t. Just now, she hated him for what he had said about Molly and her family. But she hadn’t lost yet.
The battle was far from over.
Rose squeezed her heels into Gospel’s flanks and he careered forward with a surge of bursting energy. She hadn’t told anyone, least of all her husband, but had simply taken the animal’s tack before anyone had realized, saddled him and ridden quietly out of the yard. And now they were flying across the moor towards Princetown. Rose was still furious with Charles. But if he thought he could dominate her like that, well, she’d jolly well make him think again!
She eased on the reins, slowing Gospel to a trot as they came into the prison settlement. She would leave him at the Albert Inn, as always, though the new stable boy was even more wary of Gospel’s temper than Ned had been. She would leave him saddled as it wouldn’t hurt and she didn’t intend to be long. She wanted to return, triumphant, to her husband as soon as possible to announce that she had employed Molly whether he liked it or not!
‘Good morning, Mrs Chadwick!’ Ellen Williams smiled up at her obsequiously as she swept the front step to her shop. ‘I’ve some lovely autumn materials just come in if you’d care to take a look.’
Rose scowled as her determined reverie was interrupted by the woman’s servile flannel. Two-faced cow! she thought bitterly. Didn’t want to know when she was in trouble, but now Rose had money in her pocket . . . ‘I’m sorry, Miss Williams,’ she smiled with deliberate sweetness. ‘But I’m afraid my husband only allows me to order material from Harrods in London. And Crebers in Tavistock supply our groceries now.’
She flicked up her head, relishing the snub as she continued down the street. If her marriage to Charles was growing more irksome by the day, she might as well enjoy the advantages it did hold to the full! She even gave the startled stable lad a florin, as in her heart she was hitting back at Charles, and in the mood she was in, it filled her with immense satisfaction that she was giving away his money in a way he would not approve of!
She didn’t even have to walk as far as the new warders’ block, as Molly was coming towards her, battered shopping basket on her arm. The instant she spied Rose, her pretty face broke into a delighted grin.
‘Hello! What you’m doing yere so early?’
Rose grimaced in reply. ‘I wanted to get out before anyone realized I was gone.’
‘Oh, dear, that don’t sound too good.’
Rose flashed her a warm smile. ‘Oh, no, ’tis not that bad really. ’Tis just that I couldn’t wait to see you.’
‘See me?’
‘Yes. You see . . .’ She glanced sideways at Molly as they walked on up the street, Rose’s pulse accelerating at the lie she was about to tell her dear friend. ‘Charles and I have decided that I really need a lady’s maid, and we thought, well, that it should be you.’
Her cheeks were aglow with guilt, but also with excitement at the prospect of Molly’s constant companionship. But why should she feel so guilty? Damn Charles! She paid heavily every night for her father’s security, so why shouldn’t she have her way in this small matter that meant so much to her?
Molly barely faltered in her step, not even turning to look
at her. Rose held her breath, convinced that the unexpected surprise had left Molly speechless, and it was indeed several seconds before she spoke.
‘Oh, Rose, ’tis terribly kind of you. I should love to be your maid. To live in that there grand house. Only . . . only I cas’n.’
Rose stopped dead, her frozen heart plummeting to her feet as she caught Molly’s arm. ‘You . . . you can’t?’ she stuttered feebly. ‘Why . . . why ever not?’
‘Cuz . . . Oh, Rose, I’m that sorry. A year ago, ’twould have been wonderful, but . . .’ The remorse on her face faded, and in its place a suppressed joy shone in her eyes. ‘Can you keep a secret?’
‘Of course,’ Rose gulped, her voice no more than a faint whisper.
‘I did want you to be the first to know. I haven’t even told my parents yet, so you will keep it to yourself? For now, anyways. Until Joe’s asked my father. You see, Joe and I are to be married. We’m just waiting for one of the cottages at the powder mills to become empty.’
Rose’s heart contracted in strange pain as Molly’s sparkling eyes danced in front of her, and deep inside, she felt something die. Molly and Joe to wed. She was stunned, though why, she didn’t know. She should have guessed. A vile sensation she recognized as jealousy gripped her soul. Not jealousy that Molly was to marry Joe, for he was like a brother to her. But a choking envy because they were to marry for love. A true, free love that fate had put beyond her reach for ever. And because it meant that the one thing that might make her life bearable was now out of the question. But the other part of her, the real Rose, was so happy for her friend, and she swallowed down the bitter gall of her own anguish.
‘Oh, Molly, congratulations!’ She forced the jubilation into her voice. ‘And I promise I won’t tell a soul!’
‘Thank you, Rose!’ the younger girl beamed. ‘And thank you so much for asking me to be your maid. But ’twould not be worth it for just a few months. I be so sorry. ’Twould have been such fun.’