Clay Country

by Clay Country (retail) (epub)

  He spent more time at the house, and in Cathy’s room, taking a progress report to his father as if the child was his own granddaughter. When Cathy smiled, and through Ben’s coaxing began to take some solid food at last, he behaved as though he had personally won a battle.

  Morwen held her tongue at such times, but the hurt was all the more real because Cathy’s slow recovery was something Ben and Jane seemed to think they shared together. In reality, it was Morwen and Nurse Stevens, Charles Killigrew’s nurse, who had done most of the sick-room attending, and it soon became obvious that Nurse Stevens had had enough.

  She appeared in the drawing-room one evening, cape around her shoulders, hat speared squarely on her head, her carpet-bag gripped tightly in her hand.

  ‘What the devil are you doing, woman?’ Ben jumped up from his chair, annoyed at this intrusion. ‘You have your own room—’

  ‘Not any more I don’t! I’ve just informed Mr Charles that I’ve had enough of this household, Mr Ben,’ she declared crisply. ‘I’m not employed to be a child nurse, and I ain’t putting up with that old man’s hollerings and carryings-on for one more minute. I’m going to join up with Miss Nightingale and do my bit for the soldiers, where my services will be more appreciated. I’ve quite made up my mind, and I’d be pleased if you would give me what’s due to me up to this evening, Sir.’

  She paused for breath. She looked so incongruous standing there, tall and angular with her ridiculous flowered hat perched on top of her tight little curls, that Morwen felt a sudden urge to laugh. She felt the sofa shake beside her, and realised that Jane, too, found it hard to contain her mirth. They shared a moment of mutual understanding before they each felt forced to glance away from each other. Ben folded his arms, every inch a Killigrew.

  ‘You realise I could turn you out without a penny because of your decision to leave without proper notice?’ he said coldly.

  ‘But I know you won’t, because you’re a gentleman and a Killigrew,’ Nurse Stevens said triumphantly, ‘and it’s more than your reputation’s worth to have me spread it about that you were an old skinflint, Sir.’

  Ben looked murderous at that, but all three women knew that the nurse was absolutely right. Ben strode across the room, and Nurse Stevens flinched for a moment.

  ‘You will come with me to the study,’ he said coldly. ‘Your wages will be given to you immediately, and your reference will follow if you will leave a forwarding address.’

  The woman’s eyes flickered. ‘You’ll give me a fair one, Sir?’ Her voice wavered.

  ‘Nurse Stevens, I’m a gentleman and a Killigrew. You said so yourself. Please come at once. I have guests in the house.’

  As the door closed behind them, Morwen heard Jane’s admiring tones.

  ‘Ben can be so masterful, Morwen. You must be very proud of him for the way he deals with any situation.’

  Morwen had already moved to the small table where coffee was ready to be poured. Her hand shook a little as she handed Jane a cup. Yes, she was proud. Yes, she didn’t need to be told that her man was masterful, nor to see the admiration in Jane Askhew’s eyes. Jane had the glib tongue of a lady. She would feel no hesitation in telling Ben her opinion, while to working-class folk like the Tremaynes, such praise was usually thought to be vanity-provoking, and best kept quiet.

  ‘What will happen about Mr Killigrew now?’ Jane’s next words took Morwen by surprise. She gave a small shrug.

  ‘Ben will find another nurse. Or I shall care for him myself. He always preferred my touch to any other—’

  ‘But you cannot sit with him night and day, Morwen! You must have professional help. You’re Ben’s wife before you’re his father’s nurse, noble though it sounds—’

  ‘I don’t say it to be noble!’ Morwen said angrily. ‘I care for my father-in-law, and if ’tis me he wants by his bedside, then he shall have me.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I only mean to help,’ Jane said delicately, her own cheeks a warm pink compared to Morwen’s flushed ones. How beautiful she was, Jane thought. How beautiful and headstrong and impatient. No wonder Ben loved her. She was a perfect match for him…

  ‘I know. I’m sorry too,’ Morwen muttered. Jane was a guest. She must remember that.

  Heartened by this apparent submission, Jane leaned forward. ‘Morwen, I have no-one to talk with about matters concerning women. My mother – she will not listen if I talk about Tom. She never liked him, as you know. And I do miss him so dreadfully. You and Ben are so lucky. Don’t spoil it. Ben is the one who needs your time. Mr Killigrew can always get another nurse.’

  Morwen’s sliver of sympathy as Jane began this hesitant lecture disappeared at once. She didn’t want this girl telling her how to conduct her marriage. She had only ever shared womanly secrets with Celia, and they had resulted in disaster. She didn’t want Jane Askhew for a confidante.

  ‘I’m sure a nurse will be found,’ she said stiffly, ignoring all the rest. ‘How is your mother, Jane? And your father? I thought they would have come to visit Cathy while she was ill.’

  The Tremaynes would never have stayed away from a sick child. Fine folk evidently acted differently. Jane bit her lip.

  ‘I keep them informed of Cathy’s progress daily. It’s foolish to risk spreading the infection to another town. But they’ll be longing to see her. As soon as Doctor Pender gives the word, I shall take her home, Morwen. I feel guilty at imposing on you all like this.’

  Ben came back to the room in time to hear the last words. Having dealt with Nurse Stevens, he was not happily disposed.

  ‘What rubbish. It’s no imposition to have you and Cathy here, Jane. As for taking the poor little mite home, you’re welcome to remain as long as you wish. You know that.’

  ‘Thank you, Ben,’ Jane said softly. ‘But I think I would like to go home as soon as possible. Guests, like the measles, begin to irritate after a while.’

  There was a small embarrassed silence.

  ‘Ben, I’m worried about your father,’ Morwen said quickly. ‘I hope Nurse Stevens hasn’t upset him unduly. I think I shall go and sit with him awhile if you and Jane will excuse me.’

  He gave her a grateful smile, and she left the two of them together. Her heart beat fast as she wondered if it were foolish of her to do so, and knew that the thought was shaming.

  She must learn to let go of Ben a little, if only because Ben’s world did not revolve around herself alone. For a start it concerned several hundred men in his employ, her own family included. So many depended on him.

  For all the freedom of speech and the running wild on the moors of clayfolk like herself, Ben had always been part of a much wider world. Perhaps she should remember that if she wanted to keep his world part of hers.

  It was a sobering thought, as she pushed open Charles Killigrew’s bedroom door and forced a smile to her lips for the bedridden shell of the once fine old man.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Charles Killigrew opened his eyes as he heard the light step approach his bed. Of all the people in the world, he would choose to have Morwen beside him, and good riddance to that old snot-bag of a nurse… his hands waved feebly towards his daughter-in-law, and she leaned over him to catch the words.

  ‘Sorry, my love – couldn’t stand – the woman – a minute longer. More work for you—’

  Morwen wiped his chin gently. ‘Stop gabbling,’ she said cheerfully, which brought a lop-sided grin to Charles’s mouth, for gabbling was an impossibility for him. ‘Anyway, what else would I do with my time? I’m glad to care for you, Father. Ben has his own worries with the clay works, and I would far rather be useful up here.’

  Even as she said it, Morwen knew it was only partly true. What she would infinitely rather do was to be caring for Ben’s children. Hers and Ben’s… she blinked back the mist in her eyes as she saw Charles’s shrewd old watery ones watching her.

  ‘Ben won’t – have it,’ he wheezed. ‘He’ll insist – on a new nurse. You see to it, love. You’ll k
now – the right one.’

  He drifted off to sleep again, awakening after a few minutes to request that Morwen read to him. His moods were as changeable as ever, she thought sympathetically. He just didn’t have the stamina to control them any more.

  But there was no reason why she couldn’t care for him. There was a bell beside his bed, the cord placed in his hand every night. One of the maids could sleep in Nurse Stevens’s adjoining room and call Morwen the moment Charles needed any assistance. There was no need for a professional nurse.

  * * *

  After two weeks, Morwen was forced to revise her ideas. She was utterly exhausted. Jane and Cathy Askhew had long since gone home, escorted by an attentive Ben, and Charles had become irascible since their departure. He alternately moped and ranted, and finally Ben put his foot down, as she sat wearily on the side of their bed late one night.

  ‘You’re worn out,’ he said angrily. ‘I know you think it’s for the best, but Father needs more than a loving daughter-in-law to nurse him, Morwen. I’ll see Doctor Pender about it tomorrow morning.’

  She didn’t argue. ‘Just one point, Ben. Your father has asked me to choose any new nurse. Please give me that privilege, otherwise I shall feel utterly useless.’

  He pulled her into his arms. ‘My dearest one, I don’t mean to imply such a thing! You’ve been more than a daughter to my father, and no-one knows it better than I do. But I want a wife, not a drudge.’

  His hands combed through her long black hair, and caressed her neck, his fingers warm against her skin. She felt them move across her soft lips to quieten any more discussion, and then his mouth replaced the fingertips, and she was held fast in a sweet embrace. She felt the familiar swift response to Ben’s hard demanding body, and swayed against him as they fell together across the bed.

  ‘Are you too tired for me, my Morwen?’ he said softly, and she knew that all the aggression in him now was of the man for his woman. The exquisite aggression of love…

  ‘Oh, no,’ she breathed. ‘I’m not too tired, Ben. It’s been so long—’

  He undressed her quickly, pausing to kiss each new exposed area of her as he did so, and the need to belong to him completely was as new and elating as ever.

  ‘Too many problems have come between the important things, Morwen,’ he murmured against her throat as they lay together for a moment, cocooned in their own world beneath the bedcovers. ‘But nothing is more important than my love for you.’

  ‘Nor mine for you, dar.’

  She felt the exploring fingers she knew so well, teasing and loving. She followed her own instincts to give Ben the pleasure he gave her, and the love words between them became an erotic accompaniment.

  But they were both too impatient for preliminaries, and as he eased himself over her, she felt the small sweet pain as he entered her, and gloried in it. He moved gently, and she moved with him, part of him, as she had always wanted to be. She lost all sense of time as the pleasure engulfed her, winding herself around him, her flesh his flesh, her love his.

  When the final moments came, and the love flowed from each of them, she clung to him as he rocked her against him, as close to heaven as any two mortals could be. Ben’s skin was damp with exertion, and Morwen pressed her mouth to his smooth muscled shoulder, thinking faintly that she asked little more from life than this. To be with her man… and to have his child…

  ‘You said something very special to me tonight, Morwen,’ she heard the throb of his voice against her breasts.

  ‘Did I?’ She gave a shaky little smile. ‘I don’t ever remember what I say, Ben. At such times I fear you have a wanton for a wife—’

  He laughed with her. ‘Then I wish every man could have such a wanton!’ He was reluctant to move away from her, and cupped her flushed face in his hands. ‘God, you’re so beautiful, Morwen. I love you so much it scares me at times—’

  The moment was too emotional for Morwen. Her throat thickened. ‘Nothing scares you, Ben,’ she said huskily. ‘It’s one of the things I love about you.’

  ‘Oh?’ His mood changed. ‘What are all the others then?’

  ‘I’m not telling you,’ she teased. ‘You’ll be swollen-headed. But you still have something to tell me! What was this special thing I said to you?’

  His finger circled her cheek. He leaned forward and brushed his mouth intimately against hers, just touching it as he spoke, his breath soft and warm.

  ‘You don’t use many endearments, Morwen. You’re like your mother in that respect—’

  ‘Clay folk don’t waste useless words—’ she began in mild defence. He silenced her with firmer pressure on her mouth.

  ‘I know that!’ he said, moving his lips against hers once more. ‘But you called me dar, your mother’s special word for your father, and it was the sweetest sound I ever heard.’

  She didn’t remember. She only knew it had been the only word to use at the time. The right word, for someone who was more precious to her than life. She didn’t have his education to put it into words, but if that one little endearment had said it all, then it was as rich an inheritance as Ben Killigrew’s.

  * * *

  Ben contacted Doctor Pender the next morning, and a succession of ladies arrived to be considered as Charles Killigrew’s new nurse. Morwen interviewed them all, and took the most suitable to Charles’s bedside. After three days she began to despair that they would ever find anyone, but at last his eyes sparkled as the small and sprightly Nurse Wilder breezed into his room. The moment their eyes met, Morwen knew that Nurse Wilder was the one.

  ‘Wilder by name, and wilder by nature, if ’tis no nonsense that you want, m’dear,’ Doctor Pender had chuckled with his usual addiction to clichés. ‘She’s a fine little body, and a midwife to boot, so mebbe she can do two jobs in one in due course, if you take my meaning, dear Mrs Killigrew.’

  Morwen certainly wouldn’t let that influence her! But once Nurse Wilder was installed and Charles seemed more settled, she felt free to visit her mother and find out how Freddie fared.

  Bess was a little scratchy at first at not seeing her daughter for several weeks, although she knew of the measles in Killigrew house, and would not have wanted it carried outside. But once Jane Askhew had taken her child home to Truro, Bess had expected Morwen daily.

  ‘Mammie, I’m a married woman now, and I can’t come running every minute!’ Morwen retorted.

  ‘You’re still my daughter, and I’m your mother and deserving of some respect,’ Bess came back.

  Morwen bit her lip. They had always been more than mother and daughter, and she couldn’t bear this prickly reception, especially when she felt it was undeserved. She ran to her mother’s side and put her arms around her, leaning her head against Bess’s plump shoulder.

  ‘Mammie, I’m sorry, but if you knew what a time we’ve had with Ben’s father! His nurse walked out to join Nurse Nightingale in the Crimea, and I had to do all the fetching and carrying for un—’

  Bess softened at once. ‘I thought you had skivvies for all that, my lamb!’

  ‘Not for nursing,’ Morwen said feelingly. ‘The old man only wanted me – until we found a treasure called Nurse Wilder. Now she’s living in the house, and I’m not so tied, so here I am, and dying to know all about my family. I’ve missed ’ee so, Mammie.’

  ‘We’ve missed ’ee too, lamb. Sit down while I warm some tea and then we’ll talk.’

  Morwen watched as Bess bustled about in her little house, as clean as a new penny, and the pride of her mother. The tiny cottage where Morwen had grown up on the moors had been snug and warm, but so cramped with them all, especially when her brothers grew so big and broad.

  Sam and his family would have the same problem in the cottage when their children grew… but when Morwen had lived there it had seemed no problem, because the Tremayne house had always spilled over with love, the same as this one did now.

  ‘How’s Freddie, Mammie?’ Morwen couldn’t wait for the tea to brew to ask. She
kept her tone casual, but she saw Bess’s lips tighten a little.

  ‘He’s as contrary as a cat with a mouse. He were all for this posh school in London and now he don’t want to go, and all he says is he wants to go a’ boat-building wi’ our Jack in Truro. I don’t know what to think.’

  ‘What does Daddy say to it?’

  ‘He’s tired of it all. Sam says we should let the boy go wi’ Jack, and ’tis only what he expected wi’ our Freddie getting too big for his boots and getting cold feet because of it. What frets me is why he changed his mind so sudden, and if he’ll change it again if we let un go wi’ Jack.’

  Morwen took the cup of tea and kept her eyes down as she stirred it.

  ‘Let him go, Mammie. He said summat about the boat-building to Ben and me, and I think ’tis what he’s fitted for. Don’t send him to London.’

  Bess stared at her. ‘Nobody’s sending un away! ’Tis what he wanted, and now he says he don’t. What did Ben say to it all, since it seems you’ve already discussed it?’ Her voice was ruffled.

  ‘Ben says that a young boy on his own in London can be very unhappy, and he knows what he’s talking about, Mammie.’

  She dare not say more. How could she describe to this simple countrywoman all the drama of the Peterson affair?

  Her mother didn’t answer for some minutes, and Morwen felt her heart begin to thud. If she was questioned further, she was so afraid that all her bitterness towards Captain Peterson might overflow. But whether or not Bess sensed that there was something she didn’t know, she evidently decided not to pursue it.

  ‘You know that I trust Ben’s judgement, Morwen, and I’ll pass on his thoughts to your Daddy. ’Tis probably for the best. Our Freddie would only have got above himself at this posh London school, and he and Jack should do well together, if Boskelly’s will have un.’