Too Close to the Sun (51 page)

‘You never have liked him, have you?’ he said, straightening again and pulling at his cravat. ‘You once hinted that he had been insolent to you – right at the start, at that time when I found you on the road and drove you back to Green Shipton. He said to you – what was it? You never would tell me what he said.’

He waited, and Grace said, ‘I can’t remember. It’s so long ago.’

‘You remember all right. You wouldn’t be likely to forget an insult, I’m sure. I never would, anyway.’

Grace said nothing, but gave a little shake of her head, as if to say, it’s of no importance. With Edward in the mood he was in, she must watch her every word, her every expression.

Edward looked steadily at her for a moment, then raised his arm and threw the cravat. It landed on a chair a few feet away. He began to unbutton his waistcoat and shirt, then paused in the action and leaned towards Grace again. ‘I have the feeling,’ he said, ‘that Rhind knows something about you that you’re not aware of.’

There was something a little chilling about his words, his tone. ‘I told you, Edward,’ she said, ‘I don’t understand. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

He smiled, but there was no humour in the expression. ‘No, of course you don’t, my dear. And why should you? And why should you bother your pretty head about the jealous mutterings of some slightly crazy servant?’ He nodded emphatically. ‘Oh, yes, I’m quite sure he’s half-crazy. But there, he’s also very faithful, and that’s worth a lot at times.’

‘Edward, I’m tired – I think I’ve got a cold coming on, and –’

‘Oh, dear. You’re tired and you think you’ve got a cold coming on. Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it. You’d better take something for it. We can’t have you with a cold, can we? And you’d better stay indoors and not go gallivanting about. No more trips to Redbury for you, not until you’re sure your cold has gone.’

What did he mean? ‘It’s just – my head aches so,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I’m not better company. And I know you’ve had some difficulties.’

‘That’s not far from the truth.’ He continued undressing, draping his clothes over the back of a chair. In the morning, she thought, they would be creased and he would complain.

She lay down again, turning away, and closed her eyes.
After a while she felt the mattress dip as he got into bed. Only seconds passed before he reached out for her, roughly taking her shoulder and turning her towards him. ‘Don’t go to sleep,’ he said. ‘I’m not tired. I need company.’

His heavy beard had grown so throughout the day and it was rough on the softness of her cheek. His hands too, were rough in the using of her, but there was no sound she dare make other than those that might falsely express a pleasure that she was so far from feeling.

He reached his orgasm quickly and aggressively, and fell away from her, lying on his back, his breath from his exertion coming in gasps that slowly diminished. Grace could hear her own breathing, also a little heavy from exhaustion, and touched too by her shame and misery at the role she had played. She could not help but think of how it had been with Kester. And had that been so recently, that wonderful, magical time – or had it happened a hundred years ago?

She lay for some moments just listening to Edward’s breathing. How could it all have turned out in this way? She had never, at the start, thought that it could be like this. It was not the first time, however, she reminded herself with bitter irony, and it most surely would not be the last. Tonight, however, she felt that he had been unusually careless of her own feelings, had been even rougher than he had been during some of the more drunken periods that she could remember.

The minutes dragged by. She had turned on her side now, away from him, her teeth clenched, trying to slow her breathing and capture some sense of calm. She could not, would not complain. She had made her bed, and now she must lie in it.

She could feel tears well under her eyelids and wet on her skin, running down her cheek onto the pillow. It was self-pity, she told herself, and there was no place for such an
indulgent emotion in her present life. And yet for a minute or two the tears continued to fall. When they had ceased she could feel them drying on her cheeks.

‘I need some water.’

Edward’s voice came thick and muttering, and she was aware of him sitting up in bed beside her. She heard the sounds as he groped for matches and then the sound of the match being struck and the hiss of the flare of the flame. Shadows danced on the ceiling as he lit the bedside candle. She heard him drink from his water glass, and then the fall of water as he refilled the glass from the jug. He drank again.

‘I can’t sleep,’ he said. And then, turning to Grace: ‘Are you asleep? No doubt you are.’

‘No, I’m not asleep.’

‘What is it they say? No sleep for the wicked? Well, I don’t know if that applies to me, but what about you, Grace?’ His tone was heavy with irony, and she could not think of any words to frame a reply.

He pulled himself up further in the bed, and she turned and looked at him as he lay beside her. She found his eyes directed at her, meeting her gaze.

‘Well, d’you like what you see?’ he said.

‘I beg your pardon?’ There was something about him this evening that was almost unnerving.

‘I thought you turned round to have a look at me,’ he said.

She shook her head on the pillow. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with you tonight,’ she said. ‘There’s something – something – I don’t know.’ And as soon as she had spoken, doubt flashed through her mind; she should have not acknowledged his strange mood; better she had left it without comment.

‘There’s nothing different about me,’ he said. ‘Perhaps it’s you. Perhaps there’s a difference in you.’

‘Edward – please. Don’t go on like this.’

‘Like what?’

‘You know what I mean …’

He continued to look at her, and she closed her eyes against his ungiving gaze.

‘Your looking at me just now,’ he said, ‘ – I wondered if it was because you thought we were something alike.’

‘Alike?’ She was looking at him again now. ‘What are you saying? I don’t understand.’

‘Fairman and I. I heard people say that in some lights they could hardly tell us apart. Same height; same hair colour, almost. Similar build. Did you ever have that difficulty? In telling us apart, I mean.’

She felt herself go cold. Why should he suddenly bring up the subject of Kester? ‘Why are you saying this?’ she said; then, ‘No, I’ve never thought about it, your similarities.’

‘I just wondered.’

‘Mind you, we’re not at all alike under the skin. Any similarity is purely a surface, physical thing.’

‘Of course.’

‘Sit up a bit,’ he said. ‘Let me look at you.’

‘Edward –’

‘Sit up.’

She did so. He leaned closer to her, peering closely at her in the dim light.

‘You look – strange,’ he said.

‘I’m all right.’

‘Have you been crying?’

‘No.’

‘You look as if you might have been. It’s hard to see in this light.’

‘What have I got to cry about?’

‘Exactly. I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

‘Edward – why are you being like this?’

A pause, then he said, ‘You will love me some day. And
when you do, I just hope I still feel the same way about you.’

They looked at one another in the pale light of the candle, then Grace turned her head away and sank lower again in the bed.

‘Rhind was out on errands yesterday,’ he said.

‘Yes, you told me he would be. Why? What of that?’

‘He went to Marshton.’

‘So?’

‘He got on the train at Marshton, which of course stops at Redbury. And as the train drew out of Redbury station he saw you. You were standing on the platform, talking to my old friend Fairman.’

Grace could feel herself chilled, and the most dreadful feeling of fear swept over her, and so swiftly; her mouth was at once dry, her heart pounding.

‘Did you hear what I said?’ he said.

‘Yes, I heard you.’ And surely, she thought, he must hear the hammering of her heart. She wet her lips and was grateful that she was facing away from him, her face in deeper shadow.

‘I assumed it was a chance meeting. It must have been – since you only went into the town at my suggestion.’

‘Of course it was a chance meeting.’

‘You didn’t mention it – seeing him.’ He touched her shoulder. ‘Turn round and look at me, will you.’

‘Why should I mention seeing him?’ She would not turn her head.

‘Do you think about him?’ he asked.

‘Of course not,’ she lied. ‘He’s part of the past.’

‘I hope that’s true.’

‘Of course it’s true.’

‘Turn round and look at me.’

She did so now, looking him in the eyes, lying with her gaze.

‘What did he have to say to you?’

‘The usual things. He asked how I was. He told me of his daughter. He asked after you.’

‘How kind.’ He paused. ‘How long did you talk to him?’

‘Oh – some minutes. He said he had an appointment in the town. I got the train back.’

A long pause, then he said, ‘You do know you’re mine, don’t you? You must never forget that. If I ever thought you were unfaithful to me … I would … I would …’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Edward.’ She tried, daring, to put a note of irritability and scorn into her voice.

‘You hear what I’m saying?’ he said. ‘I hope you do, because I mean it. And if you ever tried to get away from me I would find you. No matter where you were I would find you. And then …’

She waited for him to finish the sentence. But he did not. She could feel her palms wet, and she pressed her right hand to her breast; her heart was thudding away again. She turned her body away to lie on her side again, facing away from him, closing her eyes.

‘I don’t know what I’d do,’ he said. ‘But whatever it was, it wouldn’t make you happy.’ He paused. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

‘Of course I heard what you said.’ She must not for one second allow him to think that she was in any way nervous or uncertain.

‘What is mine,’ he said, ‘I do not let go. Ever.’

Dear God, she thought – if he should ask Mrs Sandiston the time of her arrival … ‘I’m afraid you’re rather drunk,’ she said.

‘Perhaps I am. But that doesn’t change anything.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘It’s the wine that does it,’ he added, and laughed again. Then his voice serious once more, he said, ‘Yes, what is mine is mine. And you’ll be mine eventually.’

‘I already am.’

‘I mean your heart and your soul too. Not your body alone.’

A silence fell. She could hear his breathing, and her own. ‘I want to go to sleep,’ she said. ‘I’d rather talk to you when you’re sober.’

‘No doubt.’

Silence again, then she heard him say:

‘I always get what I want sooner or later.’

She did not answer. With luck he would think she was asleep and leave her alone. But it was not to be.

‘Did you hear me?’ he said. ‘You’re not asleep, are you?’

‘No, I’m not asleep.’

‘Well, look around you,’ he said. ‘And you’ll see whether I’m speaking the truth or not.’

She was to get no peace. After a moment she said with a sigh, ‘Edward, I’m tired. I’m sorry, but I’m so tired.’

‘You can always sleep,’ he said. ‘You’ve got no work to do. You lead a life of pure leisure, while I work all hours possible. If I want a little attention I should think I’m entitled to it.’

She turned in the bed now and opened her eyes. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I don’t always think. I know you work hard. I admire you for it.’

‘Thank you, but I don’t care to be patronized.’

‘No – I mean it.’ She spoke the truth now.

‘You do?’

‘Of course I do. How could I not? Anyone who observes you must think the same.’

‘Well, it’s true,’ he said. ‘I do work. And I’ve had to work, all my life. Since I was a boy. I never had it easy, not like some people. Some people have it handed to them on a plate. Not me. I’ve had to work and scheme for every penny I’ve made. And I sometimes think there’s no end to it – that I’ll never be done.’

She drew herself up a little in the bed and looked at him.
He was sitting up, gazing off into the shadows of the room. She could not see his eyes, but she could tell from the position of his body, how he was holding himself, that there was such a great tenseness in him. Lifting a hand, she laid it on his back, through the cotton feeling the cords of his muscles beneath her touch. ‘Get some sleep, Edward,’ she murmured. She let fall her hand. ‘You’re tired too. It’s so true what you said – you work so hard. You drive yourself so. Please – get some rest. Lie down. Sleep.’

‘I can’t sleep.’

His words made her think of nights past, nights when she had felt him lying sleepless beside her. Often she had wondered at the demons that were keeping him awake.

‘I shouldn’t have had to do what I’ve done,’ he said after a moment. His voice was still thick from the wine he had consumed. ‘No one should have to do such things.’

‘What are you talking about? What things?’ She sank back, closing her eyes.

‘It’s true,’ he said after a moment, ‘ – I do always get what I want. I wanted you, didn’t I?’

‘Did you?’

‘I think I wanted you from the first time I saw you, in your father’s yard. I was sure to have you eventually, I knew.’

His words brought a chill to her heart, and for a moment she stopped her breath.

‘As I said,’ he said, ‘I always get what I want. Though some things are more difficult to achieve than others. Don’t you agree?’

‘I don’t know, Edward. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Well, this house for a start,’ he said. ‘You don’t think it just fell into my lap, do you?’

She felt a strange uneasiness that had nothing to do with the conversation of moments before. ‘What about the house …?’

She felt him, heard him, stir beside her. Then she heard him drink the water from his glass. She had never known him so restless, so sleepless before. ‘What about the house?’ she said again, though a part of her was telling her not to ask, to leave things unsaid.

‘It was always mine,’ he said at last. ‘Always.’

‘What do you mean, it was always yours?’