A Companion for Life (6 page)

“Thank you…”

“You’re welcome…I bought you a bride gift.”
She hadn’t noticed the odd lump in his pocket until he pulled out a
rectangular box the length of a man’s hand and set it on the
tray.

“I…”

“Don’t cry, just open it.” Lily carefully
lifted the lid and stared in shock at the matching pair of
bracelets. Emeralds shimmered like green fire captured in-between a
repeating gold Greek key symbol. “Hold out your arms; I want you to
wear them.”

“Are they real?”

“I wouldn’t buy my wife paste jewelry.” He
picked up one of the bracelets and secured it around her nearest
wrist. “When you wake up they’ll remind you that you’re chained to
a wicked Welshman. No don’t start…crying…” After securing each
clasp he twirled the heavy bracelets around her arms allowing the
stones to skim over her flesh like a caress. She sniffed back her
tears as she stared at the large jewels winking endless
possibilities. “Do you like them?” She looked up, her mouth open in
shock. “I can see by those pesky tears running down your cheeks
that you’re suitably enthralled.”

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful…are
they really mine?”

“Until you die and they’re inherited by some
rascal who’ll wager them on a throw of the dice.”

“I didn’t think William was a gambler.”

“Not usually, he’s prefers to spend his
money, but one can never guess who’ll inherit one’s treasures.”

Lily flushed as she sniffed away her tears as
she tried to smile until she remembered her swollen lips looked
ghastly. “Perhaps…perhaps I might…perhaps we may…” Did the man’s
knowing smile mean he knew what she was trying to say or was she
imagining things again?

“Drink your medicine and perhaps when you’re
feeling better we’ll discuss the matter.”

She obediently drained her glass and tried to
hold back her tears. “You must be the kindest man in the
world.”

“If I’m kind Mrs Bowen it’s because you make
it such a pleasure…” He’d leaned over and kissed the unbruised
corner of her mouth. His light caress was over before she could
savor the pleasurable tingles. “…pleasant dreams.” She watched him
leave and then admired her bracelets in the firelight through
another shower of tears. Had Mr Bowen really hinted that he might
share her bed? Feeling warm inside and out, she slid under her
blanket and succumbed to pain relieving opiate. She was unaware of
her husband returning to put more coal on the fire nor did she hear
the floor boards moaning as he stood by her bed watching her sleep
until his own heavy eyelids forced him to leave.

An odd thump vibrated through the floor and
jerked Lily out of a pleasant dream of Mr Bowen covering her face
with kisses. Opening her eyes she found her dream husband two
inches away smiling at her. “Good morning Mrs Bowen. How are you
feeling?” She managed a non-committal moan as she stared at his
lips hoping they’d reenact her dream. “Good. I’m going to wash your
hair.” She couldn’t be awake. Mr Bowen wouldn’t ever say that. She
closed her eyes and hoped to claim a few more dream kisses, but her
eyes jerked open in shock as a hand came to rest on her hip. Even
through the quilted eiderdown bedcover she could feel it slide down
her leg and then return to where it began. The man’s hand then slid
over the edge of her hip as he looked behind him, “Make sure the
water’s hot. I don’t want Mrs Bowen catching a chill.” His hand was
on her backside and there was a servant in the room? She moaned in
horror dragging the man’s attention back to her face. “Am I hurting
you?” His hand was removed giving her reason to moan in
disappointment. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I went out
early this morning and bought you three silk nightgowns. You can
put one on after your sponge bath…”

She stared into brown smiling eyes with
horror. “Sponge bath?”

“You smell like Rosamund’s house; you’ll feel
better when you smell of soap. I’ll wash your hair and then leave
you to sponge yourself, though I’d be happy to stay and help…”

“I can wash myself.”

“Pity…sit up and I’ll untie your hair.”

“I’d rather sleep.”

“I’ll have to give you smaller doses of
laudanum; you’ve slept nearly a day and a half.”

“I feel better.”

“Good.” He lightly touched her hip again.
“Up, up, up…Mrs Jones will have luncheon on the table in half an
hour. Unless you want invalid food you’ll have to come to the
table.” He stood up and waited for her to swing her legs out of the
bed.

“You’ll have to turn around.”

“Why?” There was an impish gleam in his eyes
that suggested he knew her nightgown was coiled around her
waist.

“Please?”

“I hope it’s not because I look better from
behind.” The man winked at her before turning away. Lily blushed as
she sat up watching the handsome back and quickly pulled down her
nightgown. “Are you decent?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He sat down facing her profile, his
legs resting against her as if they’d been married for years.
“You’ll feel better after a wash…” He was so close she could smell
his sweet tobacco and citrus cologne. She sat with her arms folded
over her chest staring straight ahead as she enjoyed the sensation
of his legs half embracing her.”

“He has the most beautiful legs.”

“Who has beautiful legs?”

Lily gulped in horror as the man leaned
around so she’d have to see the teasing gleam in his eyes. “Who is
this beautiful legged creature inhabiting your thoughts?” His legs
nestled closer. “My nephew’s legs aren’t bad, though I would have
said mine were better, but that could be a latent vanity appearing
in my old age.” She opened her mouth to tell him he wasn’t old.
“No, don’t tell me his name; I’d rather believe I’m the man with
the most beautiful legs.” She closed her eyes as gentle fingers
massaged her scalp around the bump on her head. The fact the
sensations were caused by Mr Bowen’s fingers made them more
pleasurable. “What are these new tears for? Have I hurt
you?”

“Why are you so kind to me? I’m fat, ugly and
I don’t even know where Wales is.”

“I can forgive you for being overweight and
bruised like a prizefighter, but not knowing the location of Wales?
Well, that is unforgivable.”

“You know I’m fat and ugly.”

“I know you’re a little plump, but I don’t
think you ugly.”

“Yes you do.” The gentle fingers withdrew
from her hair to rest on his beautiful legs making her cry harder.
Now he was going to think her rude and ungrateful as well as fat
and ugly. “Forgive me…it doesn’t matter. I’m ready to have my hair
washed.” The man didn’t move. “Luncheon must be almost ready…”

“You call me a liar; why?”

Lily cringed in horror at the cold tone he’d
used to reprimand his nephew. He’d never smile or touch her again.
She’d spend the rest of her life living alone knowing he was
laughing and kissing a beautiful mistress who didn’t question his
honour. The awful vision of the future made her cry harder. “I
overheard…”

“What did you overhear?”

“Through the fire…William said I was fat and
ugly and you didn’t disagree.”

She could feel the tension abruptly leave the
room like dirty water thrown out the window. “That explains the
shroud.” Her tears abruptly stopped as one of his hands slid onto
her thigh affectively focusing her attention on her leg. “William
may think you fat and ugly, but my silence doesn’t validate his
opinion. You were a pretty girl and you’re a pretty woman.” He
caressed her cheek. “Don’t tell me I think you’re ugly because I
don’t. Come here. Cry on my shoulder, it’ll make me feel useful.”
Lily ignored her aches and pains and turned into the offered
embrace and cried till the soothing hand caressing her back drained
away the tears and refilled her with a blissful warmth that gave
her courage to put an arm around his middle.

“You must be the kindest man in the whole
world.”

“Most people would disagree, but that’s
because there’s no point being kind to them. So many take it as
their due; they lap up any offered kindness and then demand more
without wondering why it was given in the first place…” A polite
tap on the door announced the maids. “Enter! It’s your water…” His
lips whispered into her hair, “I woke up from a dream where I was
washing your hair. I’ve been waiting hours for you to wake up so I
could reenact it, though I won’t insist you sit naked.” She gurgled
her embarrassment into his shoulder as he shook with silent
laughter. “I love your frizzy orange hair; it brings back the only
good memories of those months I was enslaved by Rosamund’s
beautiful mask. I swear you must be the most comfortable person in
the world.” Lily was still digesting the first compliment when he
abruptly changed the subject. “Lunch is probably on the table…up,
up, up…” She reluctantly let him pull her up off the bed and lead
her to the fire. In the middle of a large flat tin bath with five
inch sides sat a three legged stool and ten copper cans of water.
She sat down on the stool and watched him gracefully remove his
coat. The wet patch caused by her tears reassured her that she
wasn’t dreaming; Mr Bowen was her husband and he cared. He turned a
polite face to the maid as she asked him he needed anything. “Bring
me three towels and fetch a pair of my slippers. Has her dressing
gown dried? Good. Bring it up and tell Mrs Jones lunch will need to
be held back twenty minutes.” The maid was dismissed without
another word as he turned to smile down at her causing her chest to
inflate with that warm peaceful feeling. Any minute she’d float
away like one of those French hot air balloons. Her floating
thoughts were brought back down to earth as he rolled up his white
shirtsleeves and took off his waist coat. She could almost see the
enchanted swan enfolded into the generous shirtsleeves. He picked
up a can of water and poured it over his wrist before tipping it
over her head. She clutched her breasts as another can flowed over
her person and drenched her. He hummed a haunting tune as he
carefully soaped her hair around the large bump and massaged her
scalp. “I used to do this for one of my mistresses. I think she
enjoyed having her hair washed more than…other things. She was a
pleasant companion, but she thought I was unreasonable. I refused
to pay her bills while she shared her charms with other men. I gave
her three chances, do you think that unreasonable?”

“No.”

“I found her three times entertaining other
men, none of whom were poor, in my rented house eating my food and
she had the affront to blame her indiscretions on the fact I
refused to marry her. Keep your eyes and mouth closed I’m going to
rinse.”

“Why did you give her three…” Water swooshed
down over head.

“
It takes a vast amount of time, effort and
money to find and set up a kept mistress. Wives are much cheaper.
I’d have saved myself a fortune if I’d married you years ago. Keep
your eyes closed, I’m going to mix my secret rinsing
formula.”

“I smell roses, lavender and vinegar.”

“Keep your eyes closed. I don’t want you to
damage your eye; how would you admire my beautiful legs?” Lily
stifled a giggle as she peered through strands of wet hair at her
husband. “Eyes closed. This will sting.” The sound of water being
stirred near her ear stopped and her head was doused in a hot
bouquet of floral oils. The various wounds on her face throbbed in
pain as her hair was squeezed, combed and wrapped in a towel.

She wiped her face on her wet sleeve and
tipped back her head. “Thank you…” Lily opened her mouth to explain
that it would have been very painful to lift the cans full of water
over her head, but the thought evaporated when he leaned over and
claimed her lips with a light kiss that left her heart pounding in
disappointment when it ended. She would never have guessed the tip
of a man’s tongue could make her giddy. He stared into her eyes
with a dazed expression as his chest rose and fell faster than
normal. Had kissing her affected him? The thought made her feel
almost beautiful until an unhelpful part of her brain suggested he
was probably affected by every woman he kissed.

He licked his lips and said, “I’ll be in the
dining room waiting for you.” He looked her over as if admiring her
and then hummed a waltz out of the room forgetting his clothing on
the bed. She sat there for several minutes staring into space. Did
this mean he’d happily claim his conjugal rights when she was
feeling better? The unanswerable question repeated itself away as
she gently washed and dried her bruised body. The nightgowns he’d
bought her were soft, almost translucent with low necklines.
Shivering she pulled on her clean dressing gown and the masculine
leather slippers and paused to pick up his jacket. She scrunched it
in her arms and pressed her face into the most intoxicating smell;
him. Mr Bowen might not love her, but he wouldn’t let anyone hurt
her. She was safe.

Laying the coat back on her bed she obeyed
her stomach and hobbled down stairs, oblivious to the pain in her
knee. On entering the dining room she found him sitting in his
chair staring at his empty plate with that polite mask. What was he
thinking? She didn’t dare ask, but hearing her enter he jumped out
of his chair and hurried to pull hers out. He really was the
kindest man. Smiling dark eyes made it easy to believe that nothing
bad would ever happen again.

The following week passed in a warm
pleasant daze. Lily’s bruises were healing revealing glimpses of
her pretty face. When Penryth wasn’t concocting a reason to touch
his wife he was making her blush by telling outrageous stories from
his past. Any other woman would have slapped him or locked herself
away in her room. His rescued bride merely turned pink under a
curtain of frizzy orange hair. She happily obliged his request to
see her wear it down. He liked watching it move around her, as if
it had a life of its own. Sometimes she appeared to have a strange
orange creature living on her head. Any moment it might leap to the
floor and walk away.