The Downstairs Maid (12 page)

‘I’m having your baby,’ she’d said. ‘My da will go off his head when he finds out – so you’d best think on what we’re going to do.’

She’d broken from him then before he’d had a chance to question her and had run across the road to her father’s pub. He would have followed her but the door opened and a group of men came out, laughing and calling to her. Derek had held back because he didn’t want anyone to know he’d been seeing her.

Josh Bracknell was a big, strong man with a fearful temper and Carla was only just eighteen – seventeen when Derek had first had her. If she was telling the truth, Josh was going to knock his head off – worse than that, he might be forced to marry the girl.

In a way that wouldn’t be so bad, because her father owned the Golden Hen pub in Witchford and that must be worth a bob or two, but Carla was greedy and demanding and he’d already begun to tire of her. Besides, he wasn’t ready to marry yet. He wanted to travel a bit. His smallholding brought him in a decent living for a single man and his brother-in-law paid him a few bob for helping out at his farm, though Stella thought he did it for free. He’d had his eye on a nice motorbike, green it was with big shiny wheels. That would be a thing of the past if he were forced to marry the girl – and if her father turned ugly and refused to give them anything he’d be stuck with a wife and kids and nothing to show for it.

There were a lot of pretty girls. Derek’s expression lightened as he thought of the girl he’d met coming from the village a couple of weeks earlier. Her clothes looked so odd that for a moment he’d thought it was Emily and his heartbeat had gathered pace as he anticipated seeing her. His niece avoided him whenever she could and he knew she was seeing someone, which made him angry. When he’d realised the girl was the youngest of Lord Barton’s daughters, he’d been amused. She was pretty and though he didn’t find her as sensual as Emily, he’d been conscious of his dick stiffening in his breeches. Yes, there were a lot of pretty girls about and he wasn’t about to get caught by that scheming bitch Carla.

Swearing, Derek hammered the last of the thick wooden stakes into place and then turned in time to see Emily enter the dairy. The thought of his niece made him harden instantly. God, how he would like to stick it into her! He’d only taken up with Carla because the thought of Emily haunted him day and night. Stella would have him boiled alive if he touched her daughter, but he couldn’t help the way he felt.

He was torn between remorse for having feelings for his niece, because obviously he couldn’t have carnal knowledge of his own sister’s daughter, anger because of the scorn in Emily’s eyes as she looked at him – and regret that she was such a close relative. If Emily had not been forbidden to him, Derek knew he would have tried to court her – he might even have married her. There was something about Emily Carter that turned his guts to water, making him ache with need. It might have been her dark eyes, which sparkled with laughter or the thick luxuriant hair that tumbled over her shoulders when she let it hang loose. He thought his feelings for Emily came closer to love than anything he’d ever felt for anyone else and it tore him apart, knowing that he would never be able to have her.

He moaned with need, closing his eyes as he thought of having her in his bed all night, of being able to turn over and touch her – have her every time he wanted her. Once a night would never be enough. He thought he could be at it all night with her.

‘Damn and blast …’ Clenching his hands at his sides, Derek forced his tormented thoughts to the back of his mind, as he finished his work for the morning. Time for a break and a cup of tea in his sister’s kitchen. He’d better stop lusting after a woman he could never have and think about what he was going to do about Carla.

He didn’t want to marry her. She would just be a millstone round his neck, tying him down. Surely she was lying? Girls didn’t get pregnant every time they did it and he’d only been with Carla a dozen times or so, because she couldn’t always sneak out to meet him. He’d done it with tarts in Ely on scores of occasions and none of them had claimed to be pregnant, though he’d once caught a dose of the clap. That had been damned painful and the treatment even worse; it had cured him of going with tarts, which was why he’d snapped up the chance to take Carla down. She’d been a virgin but ripe and ready for the taking.

‘Stupid bitch,’ he muttered as he approached the dairy and glanced in. Emily had taken off her coat because she was warm churning the butter and her washed-out green dress strained against her breasts, outlining the nipples. He was so hard he could burst his breeches. Against his better judgement, he went into the dairy, swallowing the saliva in his throat as it tightened with lust. ‘Butter taking its time to come? Want a hand there, Emily love?’

‘No thanks, I can manage,’ she said, her eyes sharp and suspicious.

‘No call to be like that,’ he said. ‘I was only asking.’

She set her mouth and didn’t answer.

Derek felt the anger surface. She was proud but so beautiful and so desirable. She didn’t flaunt herself like Carla but the sex appeal just oozed out of her – even in those dreadful old clothes she was forced to wear. Her lovely dark hair smelled like flowers and her skin was as soft as velvet. If Emily were his he would dress her in silks and satins. God, how he wished he could have her for his own!

‘Suit yourself. I was just being friendly.’

Turning, he left her at work and headed for the kitchen, where his sister would have the kettle on the boil and fresh cakes waiting on the table. Derek was twelve years younger than Stella and he’d always looked up to her, which was why he would never dare to step too far out of line with Emily. If Stella guessed what was in his mind she’d throw him out and never speak to him again.

Derek’s temper wasn’t improved when he went up to the house only to discover Harry Standen already there, sitting with his feet under the table and drinking tea.

He scowled into his mug of strong tea as he listened to the lively chatter around the large pine table with its eclectic mix of odd chairs, some oak, some elm, others pine like the table. It was like the rest of the stuff in this house, old rubbish Joe Carter bought cheap; the things other people threw away. As if the old skinflint couldn’t afford to buy Stella a decent modern set the way other men did! Derek knew he’d got a few bob put away even if Stella didn’t.

Rage was boiling up inside him and it was all he could do to keep it inside. What was Harry Standen doing here, poking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted? Damn the man! Just because he owned one of the largest holdings in the district, apart from Sir Arthur Jones’s estate, so he thought he could lord it over the rest of them. Now he was after Emily and the jealousy inside him was so bitter that Derek could taste it on his tongue. He wanted to take the rotter by the throat and squeeze until he choked to death.

‘Something wrong with your tea?’ Stella asked. ‘I made that seed cake special for you, Derek, and you’ve hardly touched it.’

It would choke him to get a morsel down, Derek thought. He was holding his temper by a thread but he couldn’t raise an objection to the idea of Emily going to a dance with Harry Standen. Stella was smiling and looking pleased. She’d got her best blue and white cups down from the dresser for the occasion and that showed what was in her mind. She was already making plans for her daughter’s wedding, down to the hat and shoes she would wear.

‘Well, I mustn’t take up any more of your time,’ Harry said and stood up. ‘That cake was delicious, Mrs Carter – the best I’ve tasted in an age. Don’t tell my mother I said so, but her cakes are not a patch on yours.’

‘Emily is just as good a cook as me,’ Stella said, giving her daughter a coy look as she came in from the dairy. ‘I’ve taught her all she needs to know about cooking – and looking after a house. She’s a bright girl our Emily.’

‘Ma don’t,’ Emily begged and blushed. ‘I’ll see you out, Harry.’

‘I shall call for you on Saturday, Emily. I enjoyed myself so much last time we went dancing. Don’t forget to tell your father I’ll send over that harrow I promised him tomorrow.’

‘You want to watch that one,’ Derek said darkly as the door closed behind Standen and Emily came back to the table.

‘Well, Emily,’ her mother said as she started to clear the table. ‘He must be keen, because that’s the second time he’s asked you out since Christmas. Dancing again, is it? You are a sly cat! When should we expect the wedding?’

‘Nothing like that is going on,’ Emily denied, her cheeks warm. ‘Mr Standen is always friendly when he calls in to see Pa, and yes, he’s asked me out again – but he’s never said anything about us getting married …’

‘He doesn’t need to say. You can see what he thinks by the way he looks at you. He likes you, Emily. Play your cards right and you could end up being Mrs Harry Standen.’

‘I wouldn’t count my chickens,’ Derek said harshly. ‘A man like that has his choice of all the girls. You be careful, Emily. Just keep your legs crossed and you’ll be all right.’

‘Derek! Don’t be so crude,’ his sister rebuked. ‘She knows better than to allow any man liberties. Besides, I think Harry Standen has marriage on his mind. Well, well, I never expected a chance like this, Emily.’

‘I’m off.’ Derek scraped back his chair. He couldn’t listen to this. If he stayed another minute he would wipe the satisfied smile off his sister’s face. How dare she push Emily at that bastard Standen when Derek was sick with love for her? Getting up, he left, slamming the kitchen door behind him.

Emily was a fool if she settled for that bastard. Derek knew he could never have her but the thought of her with another man turned his guts to water.

Derek waited across the road from the Golden Hen. The pub was busy that evening, noise and laughter spilling out as the door opened and a group of farm workers went in. It was bitter out here, his breath making little clouds on the frosty air. Carla was taking her time about coming out to him and he was frozen. He ground his teeth in frustration, because he didn’t want to be here standing in the dark with his balls nearly frozen off. It had been dripping wet earlier but now the paths were getting slippery and the trees were coated with tiny icicles. What the hell was he doing here? He would much rather be at home in his own kitchen in the warm. Why he’d ever got involved with the greedy little bitch he didn’t know. He must have been drunk or out of his mind. Seeing Carla slip out of the side door, glance back and then run across to join him in the shadows, he felt no sense of satisfaction or pleasure. He was bored with her. The prospect of taking her down had lost its appeal and he was damned if he was going to be stuck with her for the rest of his life.

‘You took your time.’

‘Pa was in and out of the bar all night. He kept asking me to fetch things for him and I couldn’t get away. I had to pretend I had a headache and then he told me to go to bed. He’d kill me if he knew I’d come out to see you.’

‘Why bother then?’ Derek’s manner was rough but he was past caring. ‘It was a bit of fun for a while but it’s no fun standing here in the cold. We’ll call a halt to it and then your pa needn’t know what we’ve been doing.’

‘Don’t be like that,’ Carla said and pressed herself against him. She smelled of some cheap perfume that made his nostrils sting. Emily always smelled like flowers. Why wasn’t she Emily? It was Emily he wanted. ‘I love you, Derek. I’m sorry I kept you waiting. You know all I want is to be with you. You love me too – leastwise, you said you did when you wanted me to let you do it.’

‘It was all right for a while,’ Derek said. ‘It’s over now. We’ve had our fun and we’ll quit while we can. Besides, I’m going away for a bit …’

‘Take me with you,’ Carla begged, clinging to him. Her lovely face was pale in the half-light, desperate. ‘You can’t leave me here alone – my pa will kill me when I start to show. I told you I was having your baby.’

‘That’s rubbish,’ Derek said but looked at her uneasily. ‘You can’t be pregnant yet. It doesn’t happen that quick. We’ve only done it a few times.’

‘I don’t know how long it takes but I’m sure I’m having a baby. My courses haven’t come. I’m a week late and I feel different.’

‘That doesn’t mean anything. You’ve probably just got a chill or something. You’ll start tomorrow and everything will be all right.’

‘No, it won’t if you’re not here.’ Carla’s eyes filled with tears and she rubbed at her cheeks. ‘It isn’t fair. You promised you loved me. You kept on until I agreed to do it and now … you don’t want me any more. You’re a beast, Derek Black – and I shan’t let you leave me like this. If you go off without me I’ll tell my father. He’ll come after you and knock your head off.’

Her expression now had changed, becoming angry and spiteful, her mouth thin with temper and her eyes sharp like a cat’s. He thought she looked ugly and wondered why she couldn’t look more like Emily.

‘If he can find me,’ Derek sneered. ‘What makes you think I’d want to marry a cheap little tart like you?’

They had walked away from the pub and the houses, towards the field, which was sheltered by a high hedge, and the barn where they’d met to make love in the shelter of the straw bales the farmer stored there. It would be warm inside, away from this bitter night, but they didn’t get that far. Carla whirled on him, pulling at his coat lapels in a frenzy. She was crying and hitting at him, spittle on her mouth as she accused him of never caring for her.

‘You’re hateful and I’m going to make sure you suffer now,’ she said and she suddenly ripped the front of her dress. ‘I’m going back to the house and I’ll tell my father that you raped me. He’ll come straight after you and he’ll kill you. You won’t have a chance to get away.’

Derek was certain she was right. He stared at her for a moment and then grabbed her by the throat. ‘You little bitch. You just keep your mouth shut, do you hear me? Breathe one word of this to your father and I’ll make you sorry you were ever born.’

Derek had lost his temper. He was no longer thinking clearly. She was the cause of all his troubles and if the little slut thought he was going to be blackmailed into marrying her, she had another thing coming.