The Hired Wife (17 page)

Morley rolled
contemptuous eyes towards his mother. “The water is perfectly safe.
I’ve seen larger waves in my hipbath. Sit down and have another
glass of wine.”

“I will not.
You will row me back immediately.”

“We’ll row back
after I’ve toured the ruins.”

“That could
take an hour.”

“Then I’ll row
you back in an hour. If those little waves frighten you, you should
have stayed with the smirking cowards.”

“Morley…” The
old woman’s voice trembled with tears.

“Lady Morley,
please allow me to row you back.” Buckingham picked up the old
woman’s parasol and held it out. “I’d quite enjoy a row on the lake
as long as Emily accompanies me?”

“I’d love to
see you row Bucky.” She turned to Morley with a disapproving
expression, “If you’re trying to persuade us you’re heartless,
you’re succeeding.”

Alyce scowled
at her sister and put a possessive hand on her husband’s arm, “I
think you should show the Marquis of Morley more respect.”

“Why? Look,
he’s even amused. He knows he’s heartless. I hope you’re not stupid
enough to marry the wretch, he’d only make you miserable.”

Morley
restrained Alyce from attacking her sister with an iron grip as he
smiled at the identical woman. “Come now Lady Emily, I’m not nearly
as bad as you imagine.”

“No, I’m sure
you’re worse.” Morley lost interest in Emily as he caught Mary’s
fearful glance. Bowing his head in her direction he leered as she
visibly shuddered. There was an indefinable quality to the woman, a
desirability that defied logic. She was penniless, plain and in
dire need of curves, but the thought of owning her made his vital
organs spasm with a rush of heated blood. Socially speaking she’d
be a worthless consort, but he wouldn’t want to share her. He’d
keep her on a tight short rope at his country seat. He’d never tire
of tasting her fear; she’d be the perfect wife.

His mother
would oppose the match with venom, but if the old woman refused to
accept his choice she’d soon be silenced. Another deadly accident
and everyone would blame the Fitzalan curse. Mary Godfrey would
fight like a she-devil every time he bed her. She’d hate him for
killing Marshall, but that would ensure she’d never willingly
submit. The thought made his heart race with anticipation.

With any luck
the following week would be filled with all sorts of new pleasures,
but first he’d give his latest illegal wife the heave ho! Alyce
Godfrey was a beauty, but her lack of fear and incessant demands
that they publicise their wedding were becoming tiresome. The chit
was a dead bore. If Alyce had any sense she’d keep her lost virtue
a secret. In the mean time she was a convenient body on which to
vent his frustrated desire. If she got with child he’d simply deny
responsibility. By the time the babe was old enough to be
identified as a Fitzalan Marshall would have long died in some
tragic accident leaving his widow free to remarry. There’d be no
one to challenge him over Alyce’s fallen state or Mary’s enforced
nuptials. Morley smiled at the thought of making Mary Godfrey his
property. She’d soon be in his clutches and then he’d spend endless
euphoric hours inhaling her fear from an intimate position.

…

Mary watched
Marshall help the two older ladies and Emily into the boat and then
push the four away from the island before turning to smile at her.
Her imagination was seeing things again. The man did not adore her.
He might like her, but he was merely intent on keeping his wife so
he wouldn’t have to hunt down a replacement. His eyes suddenly
swerved towards the castle as he scowled at Morley and Alyce.
“Merry…” He held out his hand and pulled her after the laughing
couple. “…Henry only needs five solitary minutes to ruin an
innocent.”

The oversized
studded oak door creaked open revealing an empty chamber. Mary
shivered as she stepped inside the cavernous room lit by seven rays
of light squeezing through keyhole shaped arrow slits. There was no
sign of spider webs, bats or birds nests; the uneven flag stones
had been recently scrubbed. Alyce followed Morley up a narrow
flight of stairs forcing Mary and Marshall to follow.

The steps were
narrow wedges of stone winding around a stone spindle and there was
nothing on the wall to hold. Casting her eyes back down the way
they’d come Mary pressed her back to the outside wall and turned to
look into Marshall’s eyes almost level with hers, “If you were of a
mind to replace your wife, this would be a most opportunistic time
to encourage me to lose my balance. You wouldn’t have to do more
than sneeze, these stairs are frightening. How did the servants run
up and down them without breaking their necks?”

“They knew it
was faster to die of a broken neck then an arrow in the eye.”

“That’s a
cheerful manly thought.”

“Yes and I
can’t go around you without falling and breaking my neck so you’ll
have to keep going. Hurry, I don’t want to leave Morley alone with
Alyce. Don’t give me that look Perfect Woman. I don’t want to find
my sister ruined and regret kissing you.” His whisper spiralled
through the castle, “Up you get unless you want to be a merry
widow.”

“I don’t think
I’d be very merry my Lord. Would you catch me if I fell?”

“I should
certainly attempt it, but I might fail. The thought is too
dreadful; where would I find another merry mermaid?” Mary smiled at
the light words and impulsively kissed Marshall’s lips before
running up the stairs with her feet kept close to the wall on the
widest part of the wedge. “Slow down!” His voice boomed off stone
as her skirts vanished around the curve. “Merry?” In the half
light, Mary didn’t realise she was on a landing until Morley
reached out and grabbed her. Choking with terror, Mary was
momentarily dangled over the dark stairwell before being pulled
into a small antechamber. She could hear Alyce at the end of a
narrow passage calling for Mary’s captor to follow. Morley paused
to smile at his victim. Mary tried to yank free, but the fingers on
her arm squeezed tighter as he pinned her against his chest.

“After I make
you a widow, I’m going to make you a Marchioness.” Stunned by the
meaning of his words, Mary was frozen with fear as Morley leaned
forward and slowly licked her lips. “Delicious…”

“Merry?” Morley
released his grip as Marshall leapt through the doorway.

“You’re
becoming negligent old man. I had to catch your wife; she nearly
fell down the stairs. You should take better care of her. We never
know when the angel of death will call out our names…do we my
Lady?” Mary pulled free and flung herself against Marshall’s chest
and sobbed into his waist coat.

“Sweet Merry, I
told you not to run.” Strong arms wrapped around her middle holding
her tight. “You’re safe now Merry Wife, I’ve got you…”

Morley leaned
toward Marshall’s right ear and groped Mary’s unprotected derrière
making her flinch deeper into her husband’s embrace with a
strangled cry. “One of my older brothers died falling down a
similar flight of stairs. We’d gone to the top to fly kites. I’ll
never forget the sight of his head at an improbable angle;
gruesome.”

“Alyce!”
Marshall’s voice boomed off the stone walls. “We need to leave,
Merry’s upset.”

“Henry, tell
Marshall to take Mary and her vapours away and come look at this
view.”

Morley blew a
lungful of air over Mary’s neck making her writhe in disgust. “I’ll
fetch Alyce. Be careful on the way down Marshall. It would be a
tragedy if you fell holding Mary.”

Whistling a
cheerful tune, Morley disappeared behind a curtain of stone. “Merry
Heart; you’re pale. Do you need a kiss?” Mary blushed as the words
thundered through the castle, out every opening in the stone walls
and over the water. “Ah, your cheeks once again have colour. Follow
me down the stairs and don’t try to pass me or we’ll both end up at
the bottom with broken necks. There’s no need to cry woman. I’m not
going to die Merry, not at least for another three months. I hope
to persuade my magical wife to love me, at least for my kisses. Ah,
she smiles…the sooner we reach the beach, the longer I’ll have to
kiss you.” At the bottom Marshall paused, “Can you hear them
coming?”

“No.”

“Alyce! Come
down here or I’ll come up there and drag you down. Alyce? “What can
you hear?” Mary couldn’t tell him that muffled giggles above had
gurgled into loud moans. “Merry? Where are you going? I need your
help… Blast!” Mary was already out the door and hurrying for the
boat, but the unnerving sounds floated out of the narrow windows
above and followed her to the boat. “Merry Donne, take your fingers
out of your ears!” She would have heard the angry roar behind her
from the opposite side of the lake. “When I need your ears I expect
you to use them. Stay here and don’t get into the boat without me.
I’m going back for Alyce, though it’s probably too late. The hussy
will believe his lies of marriage and lift her skirts and then I’ll
be stuck with her ‘till she dies of the pox.”

Mary grabbed
his arm and held it with all her strength. “Don’t go back in there,
I beg you.”

“I can’t leave
my sister alone with Henry.”

“Please don’t
go back in there. He threatened to kill you. He’ll push you down
the stairs. Didn’t you hear what he said? He killed his
brother!”

“That’s absurd.
He was a barely nine when his brother fell and broke his neck. Are
you saying he started a well planned murderous career as a child to
become the Lord of Morley? He’s only trying to frighten you. If he
won’t leave you alone I’ll pummel him senseless.”

“Alyce and
Emily told me about Morley’s incredible good fortune. How lucky was
it that a fourth son had all his older brothers and father die in
unexplained accidents? I tell you he threatened your life.”

“His father
drank himself to death and what would he gain from my death?”

“There was talk
that his father was poisoned. Morley’s evil; he said he was going
to make me a widow and then make me his wife. He threatened to kill
you!”

“Henry doesn’t
really want you; he’s just playing with you out of boredom like a
cat with a mouse…” Petrified with fear, Mary couldn’t hear Marshall
as Morley swaggered towards them and then stop behind her husband
and yawn. He held her gaze with a look of lust as he slowly licked
his lips. Her stomach churned as she remembered to feel of his
slimy foul smelling tongue licking her. “…he’d never dream of…”

“I’d never
dream of what?”

“Henry? Where’s
Alyce?”

“She’s coming.”
He yawned again as his eyes half closed as he continued to stare at
her. “Climbing treacherous stairs makes one cursed fatigued. Am I
interrupting a lover’s quarrel or are you quarrelling over me? How
prosaic; your hired wife is poisoning you against your only friend.
I wonder why she’d do that. Perhaps she wishes to alienate you from
kith and kin so she can more easily persuade you to change your
will in her favour?”

“Merry hasn’t a
deceitful bone in her body.”

“She certainly
has plenty of bones. Ponder this Marshall; if she thinks me capable
of unpardonable wickedness, what must she think of you? Birds of a
feather sin together.”

“I find your
attempts to turn me against my wife utterly offensive.”

“Oh please,
next you’ll accuse me of being jealous. I’m merely concerned for
your well-being Marshall. She’s sweet I’m sure, but how long have
you known her? She might love you today, but what of tomorrow?
Women are creatures with fickle hearts. They’re like butterflies
flitting from flower to flower. Were we to punish them for being
women we’d never know a moment’s pleasure.”

“You’re an
aging cynic Henry; a dog who eats his vomit when the table above is
set for a King.”

“Perhaps, but
I’ve found the more eager a woman is to condemn a man, the more
likely she is to harbour a tender passion for her victim. You can’t
blame me if your wife desires a more experienced lover.”

“I’ve never
heard anything so stupid; my wife doesn’t want anything to do with
you.”

“So she
says…you haven’t seen how she looks at me when we’re alone.”

“Keep your lies
for some other dolt. Alyce, I’m leaving. Either come get in the
boat or stay here ‘till a footman rows over for you.” His sister
appeared around the side of the castle at a leisurely stroll, her
sopping skirt moulded over her curves. “Why the devil is your skirt
wet? What did she say?”

“She says she
needed to rinse a stain off her skirt.”

Marshall rolled
his eyes, “Next time leave the stains for the maid. Come here; I’ll
lift you into the boat.”

“Henry?”

“You’re wet.
Your brother will lift you.”

“I’d rather you
lifted me into the boat.”

“I might get
wet. Mother would be irate if I caught a chill and died before
spawning a legal heir…”

Alyce scowled
at her husband as Marshall lifted her into the boat and shrugged
out of his coat. “Put it on. I don’t want you dying of fever before
some other man is financially responsible for your funeral.” She
watched with a sour expression as Morley stood in the water holding
the boat for Marshall and Mary. Smiling, he nearly tipped the
seated passengers into the lake as he hopped in spraying Mary’s
back.

…

The silent
party bobbed over bloated grey waves as Marshall’s arms strained to
return them to shore before the rising wind capsized the boat. His
earlier euphoria had been flattened into bittersweet irritation as
Morley’s poisonous words stung his heart. In between glancing
backwards to make sure he was on course he stared at his
passengers. His previously cheerful wife looked about to drown in
melancholy, her fearful eyes staring at the water as if she’d
welcome its depths. She sat scrunched up against the side of the
boat apparently trying to avoid Morley’s foot resting beside her on
the middle perch. Alyce was clearly displeased with her companion.
Her pursed lips pointed at the dosing Lord with a look of silent
resentment he knew all too well. With an arm draped around Alyce
and his left foot resting against Mary, Henry was smiling in his
sleep like man who’d pleasured a harem.