by Cari Hislop
“I’d never lie to Master Bowen.”
“Twt lol! Don’t play the virtuous servant with me; we both know it’s a myth. I’m not afraid of irritating the old fart; I’ll go demand Uncle Penryth see sense.”
“I don’t think disturbing the Master will aid your cause.”
“You would say that; you’ve probably waited all your life to whip an innocent girl.”
“If I was inclined to whip innocent maidens I’ve had plenty of opportunities to lash lazy maids. I don’t find pleasure in hurting others. If you’ll come with me Miss we’ll get this over with so you can go to your room and change. Master Bowen sent Olive to the pawn shops to find you some clothes. Someone must have died; she found a whole wardrobe that might have been made to fit you.”
“I can’t wear some dead girl’s dresses; I’ll die of shame.”
“Shame is the least of your worries Miss. Come along, unless you want to be dragged to the kitchen. Mrs Jones needs to get this over with so she can bake a pound cake.”
William held the sobbing Grace tighter and glared at the man who was determined to carry out his orders. “Where’s your heart Jones? She’s just a girl.”
“I have my orders.”
“And if Uncle ordered you to jump in the Thames?”
“He’d have good reason.”
William’s throat constricted at the thought of the little body in his arms being lashed with a leather belt. His uncle had clearly lost his mind. William’s normal state of heightened self-interest was momentarily forgotten with the need to protect his beloved. “I’ll take the blows for her; I’ll be her whipping boy.”
Large wet blue eyes turned upward with hope. “You will?”
“That’s what friends do Goosey-girl.”
“Oh William, you’re the best friend in the whole world.”
Jones looked unmoved. “I’m afraid Master Bowen insisted the young lady suffer her punishment. This way Miss…”
…
Grace shivered as the warm air of the kitchen shocked her chilled skin causing gooseflesh. She covered her cheeks with her hands as her eyes whirled around the room catching on the odd bright colour and shiny implement of torture. “Miss Grace…” Her wandering eyes landed on Mrs Jones. Shivering with fear, Grace turned her head to find William. He was a few feet behind her looking pale and unhappy. “…Master Bowen warned you not to lose you temper; that you’d be slapped for every slap and lashed for every kick.” Grace felt her lips tremble she stared in terror at the middle aged Welsh woman whose wiry grey hair was escaping either side of her cap like a pair of horns. “He says you’ve earned two slaps and two lashes. Do you understand why you’re being punished? Answer me!”
Grace tried to order her jumbled thoughts. There had to be something she could say to escape the nightmare. “This has been the worst day of my life. This morning I buried my Mamma who was ran over by the mail coach and then I arrived home to find Papa had disowned me and pawned all my clothes.” Her sad tale won no sympathy from Mrs Jones. “No one loves me…Mr Bowen wants me to suffer because he hates me. Please don’t hit me. I’ll be good forever.” Her attempt to engender pity merely caused the Welsh woman to role her eyes.
“If he hated you child you’d be scrubbing chamber pots for your room and board. Why are you being punished?”
“Because I lost my temper, but William lost his temper too. Why am I the only one being punished?”
“You’ll have to ask Mr Bowen. Take your hands away from your face Miss.”
Grace hesitated as she stared at the frightening woman, but the steely look in the woman’s eyes prompted her to uncover her face and close her eyes. She would take her punishment with her head held high. Grace heard two loud successive slaps as her face caught fire and her neck ached from the blow. “William!” He rushed to comfort her, but strange guttural sounds abruptly ended his caress and sent him back against the wall.
“Now bend over for your lashes.” Sobbing at the sight of the leather belt in Jones’ hand, Grace felt her heart crushed under the weight of humiliation as she bent over leaving her backside in the air like an orange seller she’d once seen outside a playhouse. The first lash was barely more than a light flick barely felt through her skirt; the slaps had been more painful. She relaxed. It would be over momentarily. The force of the second lash sent her sprawling face forward onto the kitchen floor. Breaking her fall with her right forearm, she cracked her chin on the flagstone and collapsed sobbing as a hot flame engulphed her backside.
“You bastard! She’s a girl not a dog.”
“I’m following orders Master William; light on the first lash heavy on the second.
Mr Bowen wants her to remember what will happen if she doesn’t control her temper.
Grace pressed her burning left cheek into a puddle of tears. “I hope I can forget licking the kitchen floor…William, my bottom hurts. I can’t get up.”
He scooped her into his arms. “I know. My father used to lash me every time I did something he thought stupid which was unpleasantly frequent. I’ll prepare a glass of laudanum and then fetch some cold stones from the garden for your backside. I’ll try to find a nice clean one for your chin. You’re going to swell up like a prize fighter.”
Grace’s eyes filled with horror. “I’ll be ugly?”
“For a few days.”
Her lips trembled as she touched her aching chin. “Will you still be my friend?”
“Of course Silly, I have lots of ugly friends.”
“What if I lose my temper and I kick someone ten times? I’ll never be able to sit again. I’ll have to walk around bent over like a cripple.”
“I’d have pity and carry you.”
“You would?”
“That’s what friends do, but Uncle is bound to take us back to Wales soon. We can take long walks up the mountain every day. After an hour you’ll be too tired to kick or bite anyone and after a long walk even porridge and water taste good. Those dresses look familiar.”
Grace pulled her face from his shoulder and looked around to see dozens of her old dresses draping various pieces of furniture in her small bedchamber. “My dresses! My shoes! My parasol.” She burst into tears of relief. “My bonnets…”
“If they mean that much to you, I’ll ask Uncle if he’ll let you have some of my future allowance. If he agrees we can go to the pawn shop tomorrow and see if there’s anything else that hasn’t sold.”
Grace wiped her nose on her sleeve. “You’d do that for me? Why?”
“Because that’s what friends do.”
“You must be the best friend in the world.”
“Only for you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re a silly Goose who makes me laugh.”
“I was an idiot to jilt you.”
“Yes you were; now you’ll have to settle for being my friend.”
Grace felt something inside her deflate. “You mean you won’t kiss me?”
“Friends don’t kiss each other.”
The words seemed to puncture her lungs. “Never?”
“Not unless they become more than friends.”
“Oh…” He didn’t sound interested in taking that road. “Would you ever want to be more than friends?”
His eyes filled with laughter. “You’re a silly goose!” That was his answer? She was a silly goose? Clearly he didn’t want to fall in love with her again. The future was suddenly cast in dull colour as if the rainbow had been boiled away into shades of grey. She waited until he looked away and glanced up at his face. His nose didn’t seem quite so large; it was a nice face full of laughter. He turned and caught her eye and smiled as if he’d heard her thoughts. “I’ll bring you a glass of laudanum and then find you some stones.” He was gone before she could think of something to say.
Chapter 27
Penryth’s arm draping the back of the sofa hovered near Lily’s warmth, waiting to fold around her. The world was blissfully quiet. All he could hear
were the sounds of his heart beating and almost inaudible kisses. He was teetering on a sensual cliff as the feel of her hands innocently resting on his thigh threatened to tumble him over the edge. “Lily, I need to tell you something…” She silently looked at him with a dazed curiosity. What was it he needed to say? It was so hard to think with those brown eyes admiring his person. “My confession; I need to tell you…I can’t wait…Yr wyf fi’n eich caru chi…”
“You needn’t keep casting spells Mr Bowen, I assure you I’ve no desire to escape.”
“Good. I couldn’t bear it. Have you ever seen a swan that’s lost its companion? I’d pull out my feathers in despair and attack happier swans out of jealous spite. Without you, I’d soon end up a fox’s dinner.”
“That’s a very sad image; are you trying to make me cry?”
“Any excuse to hold you…” His arm on the back of the sofa slid off its perch and wrapped around her shoulders pulling her closer. “…is that very wicked?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Her bashful smile seemed to throw alcohol on the coal in his chest, making it burn hotter. She licked her lips and the need to explain his heart with words was forgotten as he was enveloped in warm damp autumn leaves. A forceful knocking made him jump ending the kiss. Feeling like someone had just slapped his face Penryth glanced at Lily’s wet parted lips and turned an angry glare towards the door. “Go away!” Expecting to be obeyed he mentally dismissed the intruder and sighed into her ear as the urgent need to tell her his secret returned with force. “Lily, what I meant to tell you this afternoon was that I…”
William closed the door behind him with a loud bang. “Uncle Penryth, I need to speak with you man to man.”
Penryth rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Not now William; I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”
“I need to talk now.”
“Unless someone is threatening to kill you; I’m talking to my wife.”
“You must have been talking rather closely to make your lips swell up.”
“So I’ve been kissing my wife; I enjoy kissing my wife and it so happens that I was trying to tell her something extremely important when you rudely interrupted.” His cold glare had no visible affect on the younger man.
“It’ll only take a few minutes. It’s important!”
“What is it?”
“Can we go to your room? It’s a private matter.”
“I’m in the middle of a private matter, but that doesn’t give me any privacy.”
“It’s private.”
Penryth loudly exhaled as he turned to catch Lily’s eye. “You know we’ll probably be repeating this scene in exactly twenty years except our brat will probably give us a lecture on how old people shouldn’t be so insensitive as to display any sign of passion, even behind a closed door.” He lightly kissed her pink cheek. “Join me in my room in fifteen minutes. I have something that belongs to you; something I need to give you.” He glanced back to find her watching his departure with disappointment. Blowing Lily a noisy kiss he smiled as she blushed and William groaned in disgust.
Penryth marched into his room and headed for his pipe resting on the mantel as William closed the door. “What is this pressing problem?” He turned to find William hovering at his elbow, the young man’s eyes burning with righteous indignation.
“Jones carried out your heartless instructions. He lashed her so hard she ended up on the kitchen floor.”
“Good. She’ll remember distinctly what will happen if she loses her temper.”
“If you weren’t my uncle I’d pummel you. I may not be her fiancé, but I’ll be damned if I stand by and let you whip the flesh off her backside. If you have a heart, at least allow me to be her whipping boy.”
Penryth sucked on his pipe and calmly eyed the younger man’s clenched fists. “She lost her temper and pushed her mother down the stairs. I couldn’t stop her because she’d kicked me in the chest and tried to choke me. If she loses her temper and hurts other people she will be punished. Would you rather she swung from a rope until dead for killing someone in a rage?”
“No.”
“If you need a sparing match we can arrange a boxing lesson and pummel each other where it won’t alarm the ladies.”
“As soon as my head feels better; I’ve had enough sparring today.”
Penryth could hear movement in the room next door. Was she changing into one of her nightgowns? The thought momentarily made him smile. “Now if that’s all…”
“I wasn’t finished.”
“Hurry up, I want to change.”
The clothes the maid bought from the pawnshop were Grace’s old things. I’d like to use some of my future allowance to purchase the rest of her belongings…or what’s left of them.”
“She wasn’t going to share her dress allowance with you.”
“She told me. It would mean a lot to her and you’re always telling me I’m a selfish toad who needs to think of others.”
“If you wish to waste your money on someone who hates you, that’s your affaire.”
“We’ve decided to be friends.”
Penryth eyed his nephew in exaggerated disbelief. “Friends?”
“I’ve told her I’ll never ask her to marry me again.”
“Good, that should lengthen your life by at least three decades. The heart is a fickle creature; you’ll soon fall in love with some other silly wench.” Penryth ignored William’s scowl and fumbled with the hidden latch on his desk and the secret drawer slid open. He threw a small leather purse at his nephew and pulled out the jewelry box and snapped it open. The thought of holding Lily wearing only his emeralds made his heart beat faster pressing time to hurry.
“Don’t you want to count it?”
Penryth started out of his daydream. “Note how much you spend, give twenty pounds to Miss Philips as her monthly allowance and return the rest. Shut the door behind you.” He couldn’t hear the door closing; he was bewitched by the emerald bracelet arching itself over his hand with shameless delight at the prospect of being returned to his owner.
Chapter 28
Looking at her reflection in the mirror over the mantel Lily slightly adjusted her clean ivory cap and rearranged the bow under her chin. Would he think her odd for changing into her nightclothes so early? Would he think her forward? If he said anything she’d say she was tired. She sighed in nervous uncertainty and stared at her face. She blushed with pleasure as she remembered the look in Mr Bowen’s eyes as he said he thought her dashed pretty. The visible bruises had healed and her brown eyes seemed to sparkle with happiness. Staring at the happy woman in the mirror was like meeting a good friend after years apart. The sad hopeless woman had been transformed into an older version of the Lily who’d met the enchanted swan.
She could hear her husband speaking in the next room to Jones and then the door closed and there was silence except for a few faint creaking floorboards. The clock assured her seventeen minutes had passed since William had interrupted. Ignoring her racing heart she forced herself to walk slowly to his door, but before she could knock he called out, “Come in Lily.” With her heart pounding she nervously opened the door while staring at the floor. “The key’s in the door; lock it!” She was caressed by the smell of tobacco as she turned the key. Her eyes slid across the floor until she found naked feet in slippers near the fire. He was emptying his pipe into the flames. Naked lower legs disappeared under voluminous white linen that made her blush with relief. He was hardly going to laugh at her dressing gown when the dark outline of his body against the firelight seemed to boast its nakedness. She stopped beside him and blushed as she met his smiling eyes. “You look even prettier than you did…” He glanced at the clock. “…eighteen minutes ago. I hope you haven’t been thinking about cake, I’d feel a complete twit.”