A Companion for Life (11 page)

“I fear being my wife is a nightmare; stale
bread and dry cheese on an empty stomach from my larder would only
prove it.” Lily didn’t know what to say so she stared at the plate
and slowly chewed her food. He was silent until she took her final
mouthful of cake. “Lily…”

The solitary word conveyed a plea for
forgiveness. Her hand shook as she picked up her cup, spilling tea
onto her empty plate. “We’re both half asleep Mr Bowen.”

“That wasn’t sleep; that was torture. Every
time I tried to kiss you, you’d pull a small pistol out of a
reticule and shoot me in the chest. You cursed me to a living
death; I couldn’t die and I couldn’t regain your good opinion.”

“I’d never shoot you Mr Bowen.”

“But if I tried to kiss you?”

“I might throw up.”

Mr Bowen’s cup and saucer fell from his
fingers and smashed on the wooden floor near his feet. “You’d be
sick? But I only made love to her because I wanted you.”

“Then why didn’t you make love to me? All you
had to do was say, ‘Mrs Bowen I wish to claim my conjugal
rights.’”

“I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You could have tried. At least if I’d found
it unbearable I’d have understood your visit to that…woman.”

“I’m sorry. Will you give me another
chance?”

Lily eyes filled with tears. “Of course I’ll
forgive you, you married me. What other man would saddle himself
with a penniless orange haired heifer?”

“Don’t call yourself that!”

“I might as well get used to it. Lady
Gillingham is sure to tell everyone you married a whale.”

“Melisande is a hateful cow. I wish I’d never
met her.”

“I wish I was dead.”

“Don’t say that Lily!”

“What’s the point in living when a
scrumptious piece of cake can’t make you feel glad to be
alive?”

“I helped Mrs Jones make that cake for
you.”

“You made a very nice cake.”

He covered his face with his hands. “I feel
like I’ve thrown my most valuable treasure into a slop bucket. Your
kisses were divine; I wanted to kiss you all the way up the stairs
to my bed. Tell me you don’t hate me. Tell me one day you’ll smile
at me again.”

“It’s late Mr Bowen; I should go back to
bed.”

He fell on his knees at her feet. “I’m
begging you!”

“I thought begging made you
uncomfortable.”

“I’m in agony. Lily…”

How could she deny him anything when he said
her name like an adoring lover? “Of course I’ll smile at you again
Mr Bowen.”

“And my kisses? Will they always make you
sick?”

“No.” He appeared to moan in relief. If she
didn’t say something she’d be sitting in the chair come daybreak.
“I should go back to bed.”

He lifted his head and sighed again. He stood
up and removed the tray from her lap to the fender. “May I help you
up?” She stared at his extended hand with mistrust, but gave in to
a foolish desire to touch him. His hand was warm, dry and strong.
The same fingers that had gently washed her hair pulled her up out
of the chair and held her captive without force. “May I kiss your
hand?”

“If you wish…”

“No Mrs Bowen, what do you wish? If you find
the touch of my lips revolting…”

“I’m your legal property Mr Bowen. Would you
ask this chair if you could kiss it?”

“You’re my companion, not my chair. If you
find the gesture repulsive then say so and I shall keep my lips to
myself.”

Lily weighed possible outcomes against being
polite; he had brought her a tray after having his sleep disturbed.
“You may.” Lily forgot she was angry with the man as masculine lips
lightly brushed her skin. When she didn’t try to pull free he
carefully turned her hand over and pressed a reverent kiss to her
inner wrist. Lily’s wobbly knees gave way sending her forward. Her
cheek landed against his shoulder as a welcoming arm wrapped around
her middle. Inhaling the disarming scent of sweet tobacco and
Penryth Bowen she sobbed into his coat lapel. He didn’t mention his
abhorrence for tears or try to stem the flood. He held her close,
one of her hands still entwined with his fingers as he whispered
soothing incomprehensible words in her ear that had no relation to
English. Whether he was speaking Welsh comforts or chanting an
ancient spell to make her forget Lady Gillingham’s bile; it was
working. Shuddering into silence, her companion held her
closer.

“So you enjoyed my cake?”

“It was heavenly.”

“Good. My secret ingredient is working.
Lily…” She lifted her head off his shoulder as the arm around her
waist pulled her even closer. His lips hovered several inches
above. Standing on her tip toes brought them closer, but they were
still out of reach. “You should be in bed.”

“But…”

“No, no, no…you’re still poorly; you need
your rest. Tomorrow morning I’ll go buy a few dozen bonbons.
Hopefully you’ll be kind enough to unlock your door and allow me to
exchange a few of them for kisses.”

“You could kiss me now.”

“If I kiss you now you’ll lose more than a
few minutes of sleep and you might wake up in pain and blame me for
taking advantage of your fatigue and good nature. You might never
let me touch you again. I won’t risk it; the last two and a half
days have been hell.” He lifted her hand to his lips once more.
“Now off to bed…before my baser instincts ruin my life.”

“But…”

“No, no, no, I insist.” The benevolent
dictator had spoken. “Sweet dreams Lily.” She impulsively caressed
his bristly cheek causing the enchanted swan to close his eyes and
gracefully bow his head. “Oh Lily…” It was more a sigh than words.
“Go!” Startled by his sudden harshness, she obeyed without looking
back. On entering his room she found a large fire and a hot water
bottle in the bed. Crawling under the covers she pressed her nose
into his pillow. Hopefully she’d meet her husband in dreams where
he wouldn’t be so reluctant with his kisses.

The cloying scent of Lady Gillingham’s secret
love nest conjured a men’s club with a delicate top note of roses
and honeysuckle. William couldn’t remember how he came to be there,
but there was no mistaking the identity of the naked woman lying in
his arms. His alcohol soaked brain offered a puzzle of images that
suggested he’d made love to his uncle’s mistress. Sunlight dazzled
around the edges of the curtains heightening a painful throbbing in
his head. Had he been awake all night or had he slept? It was all a
blur. “Are you awake?” The words thundered through his brain like a
coach and six.

“My head…”

“I’ll get you something.” William watched as
she threw off the covers and walked naked over to a table, poured
something into a glass and returned to place it in his hands.
“Drink all of it; it’ll ease the pain in your heart.”

“My heart?” Had he revealed his shame to Lady
Gillingham?

“
You told me Miss Philips has jilted you in
hope of becoming Lady Morley, remember?”

William’s heart shuddered. “I don’t remember
anything. Where am I?”

“You’re in my secret refuge; I come here to
relax and escape the sounds of screaming brats and squabbling
family retainers. I was at home having dinner when an acquaintance
sent me word that you were in her private gambling den trying to
persuade her to let you gamble your heart. Luckily, Morley wasn’t
present or he’d have taken you up on the offer. I rescued you and
brought you here.”

“Why doesn’t Goosey-girl want my heart?”

The naked woman climbed back into bed next to
him. “I know…it hurts…”

He could feel her hand caressing his chest,
but the emptiness remained. “I stood there for five minutes and she
didn’t see me. She said she loved me.”

“I know…” The hand continued to caress him as
if it could soothe the ache.

“How can a woman say she loves a man and then
change her mind before the next meal?”

“Some women are heartless; they only want men
to think they’re loved.”

“Why?”

“So they can control them, but Miss Philips
is a fool if she thinks she can tame Morley’s heart; he doesn’t
have one.”

“Why didn’t she want my heart? I’d do
anything for her…I’d walk to the moon!”

“She clearly doesn’t want the moon. Morley
won’t walk anywhere unless he knows he’ll get to kill something
along the way.”

“But she said she loved me. She said she’d do
anything to be my wife.”

“Sometimes circumstances occur outside a
woman’s control that affects her heart without her knowledge.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I suspect Miss Philip’s heart was broken
when she arrived home to find her beloved Aunt Lily gone without
any word of explanation. The woman she thought of as a second
mother, who’d helped raise her from the cradle, the woman who was a
pillar of her life was there one hour and then gone without a word.
How could her heart not be devastated?”

“Uncle Penryth married her…”

“I know. Miss Philip’s heart must have been
aversely affected by her sudden loss. Sometimes it takes a few days
for pain to be digested by the heart and when it settles it
corrodes the surrounding love like an acid. She must have loved you
very much to lose her love so quickly.”

“I felt pain the moment she didn’t hear me
announced.”

“You’re a sensitive soul William. Not every
man can feel the way you do.”

“It hurts…Grace said her mother was going to
give her Lily as a wedding present. Grace said I had to get Uncle
Penryth to give her back or she wouldn’t marry me. Grace must love
her very much and that heartless woman has her claws in my
uncle.”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Miss Philips was
devastated by losing her second mother, a second mother who, I
understand, left without bidding farewell and didn’t have the
courtesy to invite her family to the wedding. It must have been a
heart-rending experience. Grace probably doesn’t even understand
why she can’t love you. It’s a tragedy; your poor uncle has lost
his heart to a cunning woman who doesn’t love her own flesh and
blood. His life will be ruined.”

“I told him Aunt Lily was a schemer. He
refused to believe me when I told him she’d fallen down the stairs.
Mr Philips would know what happens in his own house, wouldn’t he.
She’d often fall down the stairs in the night trying to raid the
larder, but uncle wouldn’t listen. His voice went all cold like
death because she convinced him someone pummeled her. That’s why he
rushed to rescue her, but he didn’t have to marry her. He could
have given her a small annuity and sent her on her way.”

“Shall I tell you a secret?”

“A secret?”

“Your uncle, he’s in love…with his wife.”

“Uncle Penryth? In love with Aunt Lily?
Impossible! Have you seen her? She can’t look a body in the eye.
She can barely talk above a whisper…she’s embarrassing. People
are going to look at her and think Uncle was blackmailed into
marrying her. I tried to tell him, but he gave me that look that
chills the soul.”

“I told you, he’s in love with her.”

“He can’t be in love with her. What is there
to love? She’s fat with orange hair like coarse spun wool. When she
wears it down it looks like an orange felted blanket draped over
her head.”

“She wears it down because he likes it.”

“No one could like it, it’s hideous.”

“I paid your Aunt Lily a visit. I thought I
could help your Uncle by easing her entrance into Society. I asked
her why she was wearing her hair down and she told me it was
because he liked it that way. I believe her hair must have some
sort of hold over him. She could be a witch. Perhaps her hair has
been enchanted? I’ve heard of potions that a woman can drink to
enslave a man. What if she’s discovered one of these potions? What
if your uncle is unable to consider Miss Philip’s demands because
he’s affected by a magic spell?”

“He has been acting very strange. Why would a
man kick in a woman’s door when she looks like Aunt Lily? I found
him sitting on her bed. She was lying there like a…”

“Like a beached whale?”

“Yes, and Uncle Penryth was next to her like
a slave awaiting her command.”

“I told you, he’s in love with her though he
doesn’t know it. When I tried to tell him he was in love with his
wife he categorically denied it. I don’t think he knows what’s
happening to him. He may be under a spell, but if he hasn’t bed her
there’s still time to save him. There may be time to persuade Miss
Philips that she loves you if you can break the spell over your
uncle before Morley makes his move.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Cut off your Aunt Lily’s hair.”

Through an alcoholic haze William eyed his
naked companion with horror. “Uncle would kill me!”

“He won’t, he’ll be released from the
spell.”

“What if he’s really in love with her? You’ve
never seen Uncle Penryth angry.”

“I thought you said you’d do anything to win
Miss Philips’ love. Perhaps she’s right not to marry you.”

“Don’t say that! I love her.”

“Do you? How can you love her if you won’t
even try to save her from Morley? Do you know what he does to young
ladies who find themselves in his web? He didn’t earn that evil
face by sucking on lemons.”

“But uncle might kill me.”

“Life is a gamble Mr Bowen. Are you going to
throw the dice or keep them in your pocket knowing you might have
rolled a double six? Are you a man or a boy too scared to take
action?”

“I’m a man.”

“Well then…you’d better have another drink to
steady your nerves.”

It was nearly noon; the London traffic had
ground to a crawl. Penryth couldn’t hear the cursing coachmen or
the groan of the wheels pulverizing bones of hungry rats that had
strayed from the safety of the gutter. His body was in his
carriage, but in his mind he was standing beside his bed. He could
see long stiff hair jutting out over the bedcovers like an orange
pennant identifying the occupant and proclaiming her right to be
there. Stepping closer he could see part of her pretty face
emerging from ugly bruises. Penryth tightened his folded arms as if
they could restrain the overflowing warmth in his chest. She’d left
the door unlocked. Feeling the handle turn and the door open had
sent bliss coursing through his veins; she’d let him in. He was
still silently debating whether to wake her or let her sleep when
the maid had entered to feed the fire more coal an hour later. He
abandoned his watching, collected clean clothes and retreated. The
sooner he finished shopping, the sooner he could tempt his wife to
exchange a few kisses for bonbons. The odd motion of one carriage
wheel riding over some obstruction brought his mind back to his
uncomfortable body with a jerk. Instead of watching his wife sleep
he was a prisoner enduring a form of torture worse than anything
the Chinese could invent. Not knowing how long it would take before
he reached Lily’s lips was agony. Casting his eyes at the seat
beside him he smiled at the large box of bonbons and the large pile
of smaller packages. Just when he thought he’d finished he’d seen
something else he thought she might need or like. The intended hour
had somehow become three and now his pocket watch was threatening
to make it four.