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Lakeland Lily

Page 29

by Freda Lightfoot


  Best not to consider the long-term implications of her love for Nathan. Craving his presence as a flower might the sun, she lived only for the moment. Let the future take care of itself.

  Once, Lily saw her parents’ neighbour Mr Adams as he climbed down from the omnibus. She’d been forced to stop and exchange the time of day with him as politely as her impatience would allow, making all manner of excuses. But he hadn’t been in the least suspicious about where she was bound in such a hurry.

  She always ran when she was meeting Nathan.

  They would lie within the shelter of the old stone ruins or beside the tumbling beck, and talk. They loved, they kissed, and loved again. The meetings became a compulsion which possessed them both, so that neither could concentrate upon any other aspect of life. Nathan neglected his business, Lily her child. It mattered only that they should be together.

  But deep down Lily knew that when Bertie did come home, she would have to face up to reality. Could she end her marriage and still keep her beloved child? Or keep marriage, child and lover? Somehow, she rather doubted it.

  No one could accuse Mr Adams of being a perspicacious man, but nor was he a fool. Seeing Lily run off into the woods had stirred a few memories of his own youth, which caused him to enquire of his wife later that day if she’d seen anything of the girl recently.

  Mrs Adams, with her mind on a tasty bit of supper from Mrs Edgar’s Cook Shop, paid him no heed as she hurried to buy a double portion of meat and potato pie.

  The two women exchanged the time of day, commented on the weather, and proceeded to discuss the health of their respective families and how they were settling back to normal life after their various tribulations. It was quite by the way, and not at all meant as unkind gossip, that Mrs Adams remembered her husband’s remark and the subject of Lily Thorpe as was came up.

  ‘Waits many a long day at the station in vain for her husband, poor soul. I saw her that first time, crying her eyes out.’

  ‘Aye.’ Mrs Adams considered the matter. ‘But that pal of his, Nathan Monroe, come home, didn’t he? Devil’s own luck he has. My word, that was a kiss and a half. Did you see it?’

  Mrs Edgar felt compelled to agree that she had indeed witnessed the kiss with her own eyes. It had certainly been a li’le bit on the strong side. How many years in her distant past since she’d enjoyed such an amorous encounter. ‘Her poor husband not coming home at all then? Got killed out there, did he?’ Stating what she believed to be the obvious truth as she sliced a fair portion of pastry and placed it gently on Mrs Adams’s warmed plate.

  ‘Not that I know of. I’m sure Hannah would’ve mentioned it to me if her son-in-law had copped it.’

  Mrs Edgar paused in the process of ladling out the meat and potato mixture with its succulent gravy, and the two women gazed at each other. ‘Well, I never.’

  ‘You never do know aught about folk really, do you?’

  ‘I reckon we’d best make a few quiet enquiries after Mr Bertie. Wouldn’t do to go imagining a chap dead if he’s alive and kicking somewhere.’

  Both ladies solemnly nodded.

  Their ‘quiet enquiries’ involved Mrs Adams questioning her sister, whose husband’s second cousin worked up at Barwick House. The cousin, a scullery maid in Mrs Greenholme’s kitchen, asked the boot boy who said that he hadn’t the first idea if Bertie would be returning home from war or not, and why did she want to know? When she explained, he was so taken with the shocking goings-on of his employers, that he made it his business to ask the groom who spoke to George the chauffeur, now safely returned to his old job and who, as luck would have it, was walking out with Lily’s maid Betty at present.

  The pair of them had quite a discussion upon the subject, and although Betty swore undying loyalty to Lily, as always, she confessed to noticing her mistress having taken a great fancy to rambling lately. ‘And she comes back wi’ not a speck of mud on her boots, and a wicked bright light in her eye.’

  Privately she admitted to her own dear love that the rumours were very likely true.

  Unfortunately this conversation took place during one of their secret trysts behind the rhododendron bushes, at a time in the afternoon when Selene liked to take the air.

  ‘You only have to look at the pair of ‘em when they’re both in the same room together to know they want to eat each other up,’ Betty continued, sighing at the romance of it all. ‘But then he’s always carried a torch for Lily apparently, since they were at school together all them years ago. Now she feels the same about him. Lovely, isn’t it?’

  George proved to be far more Puritan. ‘It might be, if she weren’t a married lady. I wouldn’t want you carrying on in such a way, Betty Cotley.’

  ‘Ooh, George. I never would. Not if I had a good chap like you coming home to me every night.’

  A kiss followed, which took some time, while Selene, shocked into immobility by what she had heard thus far, felt herself grow hot with furious impotence. Betty and George wandered off into the woods, seeking greater privacy. Selene screamed her fury to the empty heavens. Then she stormed across the green lawns, marched right through the house, banging every door as she went, and proceeded to seek out her sister-in-law.

  Selene confronted Lily in the conservatory, her beautiful face pale as the waxen lilies, and contorted with hatred. ‘How dare you!’

  So far as Selene was concerned, this dreadful girl had brought nothing but trouble to the family since the first day they’d clapped eyes on her, harlot that she was. She did not, of course, see her own behaviour in quite the same light, for all she was unknowingly repeating the very words Lily had privately used about her.

  Lily made no attempt to pretend she did not understand. She guessed instantly that they had been discovered. The kiss at the station which everybody had witnessed, her visit to his house, and those foolish, reckless meetings in Carreck Woods. But, oh, such sweet times together that she couldn’t regret them, even now, knowing she deserved every bit of her sister-in-law’s fury. It was almost a relief in a way, that the truth was out.

  ‘What can I say, Selene? It was wrong of us, we both knew it. But it’s always been there, this feeling between us. I didn’t realise at first, but then despite myself I couldn’t deny it any longer.’

  Selene’s lip curled. ‘Spare me the anguish. You have a husband already. Why steal mine? You’re a whore! You always were. Bertie recognised that in you. Why d’you think he fancied you in the first place? You know full well how he has a taste for whores.’

  Lily stood speechless, her mind numbed by the cruelty of Selene’s words, half wondering if perhaps she could be right. About Bertie at least.

  ‘I-I’m sorry.’

  Selene brought her face within inches of Lily’s, flecks of spittle flying in her fury. ‘Being sorry isn’t enough. I’ll make you wish you’d never been born. Mark my words, Lily Thorpe, you’d best watch your back from now on.’

  The engagement was off. Margot imperiously summoned Nathan to the house and informed him of this fact while he stood upon the Persian rug, eyes on the gloomy landscapes above her head. To her vast irritation he appeared as cool and enigmatic as ever, while she railed at him for destroying her precious daughter.

  ‘You’ve lost a beautiful wife and the fortune which goes with her. For my part, Mr Monroe, I must say that I am vastly relieved the liaison is over.’ There, that would show him! She folded hands clasped tight beneath her ample bosom. ‘My daughter will learn to thank that heartless chit for saving her from a terrible mistake. You’re not the man we took you for. Dear me, no.’ Margot really couldn’t imagine why she’d ever agreed to Nathan Monroe in the first place. Though she’d make Lily sorry, all the same.

  As if reading her thoughts, Nathan graciously inclined his head. ‘I’m sure you are correct in your assumption, Mrs Clermont-Read, but the fault was entirely mine. You must not blame Lily for this.’

  ‘You forced her, did you?’ Margot hated his coolness. She hated the calm in
difference on his handsome face. She wanted to see him beg for Selene’s hand, beg for forgiveness, for her charity, so she could enjoy the pleasure of refusing it.

  ‘Perhaps pursued would be a more appropriate word.’ He had the audacity to smile.

  Margot fumed. ‘How unutterly vulgar. My daughter can most certainly do better than a tin-pot lake steamer owner, mark my words, sir.’ Catherine Kirkby would find Selene a husband from amongst her elite circle without the slightest difficulty, Margot was sure of it. ‘Particularly one with such low morals.’

  For some reason Nathan seemed to find this amusing and a surge of hot anger flooded through Margot again, setting her dumpling cheeks on fire. ‘Besides which, Mr Monroe, I would never, never permit my daughter to marry a malingerer and a cripple.’

  Now Nathan’s half-smile truly did freeze, blue eyes glittering like ice. ‘Not even a rich one?’ he asked, whereupon Margot gathered her dignity and rose from her chair. Reaching for the bell pull, she managed a politely dismissive smile.

  ‘Good day to you, Mr Monroe. I think there is no more to be said.’

  ‘Pray don’t trouble to call your servants, ma’am. I can show myself out.’ He strode down the passage, flung open the front door and quit the house before the scurrying maid could reach him.

  Lily’s fate came hot on the heels of this interview, and was everything she had feared even if she did richly deserve it. She made no protest, offered no defence, meekly accepted every vile comment which Margot flung at her. Lily could have told her mother-in-law that Bertie had done worse, visiting the very house in Fossburn Street from which Margot had once accused Lily herself of offering salacious services. But what would be the point? Lily felt she did not have the right to risk damaging Margot’s love for her son. In any case, Bertie wasn’t here to defend himself. Wasn’t her sense of guilt bad enough already?

  She could have voiced her suspicions over Selene’s own indiscretions, but Hannah’s religious platitude still rang in her head: ‘Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.’ Not, unfortunately, a creed Lily could follow in all honesty, for she knew nothing could induce her to give Nathan up. She needed him, as he did her. And until Bertie came home she would continue to see him. But Margot’s next words stunned her, left her open-mouthed and speechless.

  ‘You’ll pack your bags and leave this house within the hour, madam. Do you hear me?’

  ‘B-but what about Bertie?’

  ‘Perhaps my son will return home all the sooner once he knows that his errant wife has left. I always knew he had good reason for staying away. Now I realise what it is. And take your brat with you!’

  Lily stood on the doorstep of number four Carter Street, bags by her side and child in her arms, staring with disbelief into her father’s face.

  ‘What do you mean, I can’t come in?’

  ‘What I say. You can’t.’

  ‘But this is my home.’

  ‘No, Lily. It was your home. But it’s not been your home for a good many years. You’ve even thought yourself too grand to visit us in it for much of the time.’

  ‘I explained all of that to Mam.’

  ‘Not to me.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but...’

  ‘If you’ve got problems with your husband’s family, I’m sorry for it, but I can do naught to help.’

  ‘You could offer me a roof over my head, for my child at least.’

  ‘You should’ve thought of her before you started on this affair wi’ Nathan Monroe, shouldn’t you?’

  So the gossips had done their work. Lily drew in a shaky breath. ‘Can I speak to me mam?’

  ‘No.’ And he shut the door in her face.

  Nathan was waiting for her in Carreck Woods, as she had known he would be. The hunched shoulders, the grim set of his mouth and the perpetual scowl were back. Every line of his body spoke of his displeasure. Perhaps he was angry with her for losing him Selene. He would accuse her of carelessness, of robbing him of his one chance to be rich. She must make him see that they were done with the Clermont-Reads now. Done with everyone, it seemed. They could go away together, start a new life. Hadn’t she come to tell him so?

  The old ferryman had promised to keep his eye on her things, and agreed to show the four year old a thing or two about ropes until she returned.

  Thomas had looked confused, as well he might, when Lily had explained she was looking for a new home for them. Hadn’t he already got a fine home? A big garden to play in, a swing, any number of toys, and people in abundance to wait upon his every need.

  Lily wondered what sort of life she could take her son to, when even her own parents scorned her. But she had absolute faith in Nathan. He was the boy’s true father, after all.

  Now she stood before him, and without a word reached up on tip-toe silently to kiss his mouth. As her body melted against his, his arms came about her to swing her high and hold her tight as he always did. Then he laid her down, crushing the globe flowers and violets, and made love to her with a fierceness that melted his anger so that then he must love her again, with a tenderness that caused Lily to weep with joy.

  Afterwards as they lay together, sun-dappled limbs heavy with their love-making, eyes closed as Lily lay against the warm curve of his wounded shoulder, Nathan idly stroked her hair. Not wishing to spoil the moment with talk of her plight, she dared at last to ask another question.

  ‘Do you love me?’

  There was a long, aching pause in which she listened to his heartbeat. A chaffinch flew close by. Landing on a branch, it puffed out its pink breast with self-importance and glanced cheekily about. The lovers watched in the silent stillness of the woods until the bird opened its wings and flew off again, envying its freedom.

  ‘I’ve little trust in love, Lily. My mother loved my father so much she sacrificed everything for him, even me. Look where it got her. A beaten, sick, wreck of a woman, with a bitter young tearaway for a son. You must take me as I am, or not at all.’

  ‘I want to hear you say it.’

  Then he kissed the top of her head and whispered into her hair, ‘I dare say I must feel summat strong for you, Lily Thorpe, or I wouldn’t be here. Will that do?’

  She lifted a face shining with love, lips parting for his kiss. ‘Would you marry me, if I were free?’

  The answer this time was even longer in coming as he studied her solemnly. ‘Why does it matter, since you’re not?’

  ‘It matters.’

  Very slowly, and with painstaking gentleness, he traced the shape of her blunt chin with one finger, outlined each flared nostril, the tilt of her eyebrows, the smooth pink of her cheeks, pushed back the heavy swathe of silky brown hair. One corner of his mouth lifted into that wicked smile she so loved. ‘I seem to recall that I did ask you once, only you refused me.’

  She laughed, all tension disappearing from her body.

  As the kisses continued, now soft, now fierce and demanding, desire flared as it always would between them, and she opened herself to him, wrapping her legs about him so he could thrust deep inside her. He took her with a kind of desperate ferocity, almost as if this were their last time together, when really, Lily thought, it was a new beginning.

  It was some time later, as they lay quietly together, the sunlight faded from the sky, that reality returned and Lily told him of her banishment. Shock and anger were reflected in his face.

  ‘She’s turned you out? The old witch. What would Bertie say to such behaviour?’

  ‘He isn’t here.’

  ‘He will be soon. When he’s ready to face the world again.’

  ‘Do you want him to come back?’

  ‘Don’t ask me that, Lily.’

  ‘I do ask you.’

  ‘He’s your husband.’

  ‘I know.’

  There was a small silence as Nathan felt his bravado fade away. Bertie had no doubt suffered in the war too. Might still be suffering. What right had he to inflict further hurt? ‘What about Thomas? Doesn’t Margo
t even care about her own grandson?’

  Lily shook her head, voice hushed. ‘She says I can’t prove he’s Bertie’s son. It’s true, I can’t.’

  For a long moment Nathan stared at her. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I think you know. I think you’ve always known.’

  He closed his eyes. ‘Dear God, Lily, what have I done to you?’

  ‘Bit of a mess, eh? My own father has told me never to darken his door ever again.’ She made her voice sound falsely dramatic. ‘So I’m a poor abandoned orphan. I’ll have to move in with you. Or we could go away together, start a new life.’

  Cradling his frozen arm, Nathan hunched his shoulders and leaned back against a tree. Hadn’t he enough to face, rebuilding a life that war had torn apart? He spoke softly, with regret. ‘Trouble is, Lily, my life is here, with the steamer business. It was hard won, I don’t want to lose it.’

  She knew what he said was true. His business had been hard won. He deserved his success. Even so, she couldn’t deny her disappointment. ‘I thought you loved me?’

  He gazed upon her trusting face, knew he had never wanted anything more than Lily beside him. He thought of Passchendaele, of the wounds the explosion had inflicted. But for all his arm was useless he was alive. Many others were not. If the war had changed him, perhaps it had damaged Bertie more, or he would be here too, with Lily. So how could Nathan run off with his best mate’s wife? He simply couldn’t do it. He’d acquired a conscience somewhere along the line. Something the old Nathan had never had.

  He cupped Lily’s face between his hands and kissed it with infinite gentleness. ‘It wouldn’t be right, Lily. You know it wouldn’t. You’re still married.’

  ‘I don’t care.’

 

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