Never Look Back (46 page)

‘You don’t have to marry me to stop that happening,’ Matilda interrupted, somewhat indignantly. ‘I could board with someone in town and still look after Tabitha and this house.’

He sighed and looked crestfallen. ‘Once again I seem to be putting things badly. Suppose you were in my position, what would you do?’

‘I certainly wouldn’t rush to marry anyone,’ she said. ‘I suppose I’d take Tabitha off somewhere for a while, see old friends, sort out my feelings.’

‘That’s exactly what I’d like to do,’ he said. ‘Then I’d come right back and try to woo you. But I can’t, I am tied to the church, and this house goes with the ministry. So I have no choice but to stay here.’

Matilda was touched by the word ‘woo’, and she half smiled. ‘You could find a better catch to woo than me,’ she said.

‘Matty, will you stop imagining I am suggesting a marriage of convenience,’ he said in exasperation. ‘What I tried to make you see this afternoon was that I think we were meant for one another. Not just as friends, or because of our shared love for Tabitha, but as husband and wife with all that entails. You are afraid to look on me as just a man and prospective lover, purely because of the circumstances, but stand back from that, Matty, forget Lily for a moment, and that you were once our servant.’

‘I can’t,’ she said.

‘I believe you can,’ he insisted, dark eyes flashing. ‘Because I have learnt to do it. You are loving, giving, compassionate and you have a fine mind. On top of that you are very beautiful, and I don’t believe there’s a better catch than you in the whole state.’ He reached out and took her hand in his. ‘I don’t see you as a substitute for Lily, you are so different from her that any comparison would be meaningless. I believe we could have the most wonderfully happy marriage, Matty, we are in tune with one another, we always have been.’

‘But how can I step into a dead woman’s shoes?’ she pleaded with him. ‘Especially someone’s who meant so much to me. It would be easier to have a marriage of convenience than strive for the kind of bliss you shared with Lily.’

‘Our marriage was not blissful, and you know that,’ he said, looking at her sternly. ‘But for your presence when we first moved to New York, it might well have crumbled. You witnessed the sulking, the hysteria, and no doubt you were quite aware of how unsympathetic I was to her at times. What we had is what most marriages have, some good periods, some bad, and some terrible. I am so very glad that the last two years were so utterly good, for that is the part I look back on now. But in truth, Matty, it was you more than anyone else who brought that Lily back to me. If she could stand here now on the porch she would tell you so herself.’

‘But she was my friend.’ Matty began to cry. ‘I promised I’d take care of you and Tabby, but she wouldn’t want – ’She stopped short, unable to say it.

‘She wouldn’t want you in my bed?’ he asked, half smiling. ‘But that’s just what she did want, Matty, her last words to me were “Marry Matty, Giles, she’ll make you happy in every way. ‘And you’ll make her happy too.’ ”

Matilda’s head jerked up. ‘She really said that?’

‘Ask the doctor if you doubt me,’ he said. ‘He heard her too.’

Matilda knew that Giles would never make up such a thing, but even with Lily’s approval she still couldn’t bring herself to say yes. Her own father had once given her some advice out on the river on the way back from visiting Dolly for that first time. ‘Never dally with a grieving man,’ he had said. ‘They ain’t right in the ’ead for some time,’ and Lucas, though a simple man in so many ways, had been very wise.

She went off to bed a little later, having changed the subject to talk about Tabitha. But once in bed she couldn’t sleep. It was unbearably hot and her mind was in a turmoil. Deep down inside her, however ashamed it made her feel, she wanted Giles. Maybe it was only today that she’d suddenly felt desire for him, but looking back over the years she could see that he had always been more to her than master or friend, she’d just been too naive to see it then. But the fear that she would be living in Lily’s shadow frightened her. Could she learn to live with Giles looking
sadly over his shoulder? Or would it turn her into a bitter shrew, always trying to prove herself that much better?

She must have fallen asleep eventually, only to wake suddenly at the sound of torrential rain battering down on the roof. She lay there for a while savouring the welcome cool breeze coming through the open window, but a loud crack of thunder, followed immediately by a flash of lightning which lit up the room, made her run to the window to close it. A second brilliant flash of lightning illuminated the whole garden, enough for her to see Gertie the little goat tethered up, and the chickens which she’d forgotten to shoo into the hen-house. Without even stopping to get a wrap, she ran down the stairs and across the kitchen towards the back door.

‘Matty!’

Giles’s voice came from his bedroom which was on the ground floor.

‘I left the goat and hens out,’ she yelled back. ‘I’m just going to get them in.’

As she opened the door, the force of the wind and rain threw it back violently, almost knocking her over. Giles ran across the kitchen and slammed it shut.

‘You can’t go out in that,’ he said. ‘They’ll be fine, animals have more sense than us.’

‘I must,’ she insisted, trying to push past him. ‘Gertie will be terrified.’

Giles caught hold of her arms and for a moment they wrestled, Matilda determined to get to the goat, Giles equally determined to stop her. Another blinding flash of lightning lit up the entire kitchen. Matilda shrieked in fright, and suddenly Giles’s arms were round her.

‘There, there,’ he said comfortingly. ‘It can’t hurt us, and Gertie is on a long chain, she’ll get under a bush. As for the chickens, they may be stupid but they are bright enough to go into the hen-house all alone.’

Giles was wearing only a night-shirt, and as he pulled her closer still to him, so the heat and hardness of his body struck through her thin night-gown, and all at once they were kissing.

Passion erupted just as suddenly as the storm had. The windows shook, thunder crashed, lightning flashed and the rain lashed down, mirroring the emotions which had been released.
Arms locked around each other, lips and tongues devouring, their hands explored and fingers caressed.

Giles lifted her up into his arms and shamelessly she wound her legs around his middle, covering his face and neck with more kisses.

‘I want you so badly, Matty,’ he whispered as he carried her up to her bedroom. ‘Is it the same for you?’

‘Oh yes,’ she sighed, clinging to him even tighter.

The storm howling outside was as frantic, wild and uninhibited as their passion. Night-gowns were tossed aside, two bodies on fire, consumed by their need for one another.

For Matilda it was as if everything in her life so far had been leading up to this moment. She didn’t care what tomorrow would bring, his lips on hers, his hands caressing her body, driving her further and further into a spiral of sheer bliss was the only thing that mattered.

As he went to enter her, for just the briefest moment she resisted. But a flash of lighting illuminated his face, and she saw no lust, but such tenderness and caring, that she thrust herself towards him joyfully.

‘My darling,’ he murmured. ‘My precious darling Matty.’

It was like being reborn as they lay still joined together, sticky with perspiration. Whatever had gone before was wiped out by the present. Although she had no real yardstick of previous experience to measure their love-making by, she knew without a doubt that such utter ecstasy was a very special gift. She didn’t need Giles to tell her it was new to him too, she could feel it in his kisses, hear it in his contented sighs. They might be damned for tasting it before marriage. The rest of the world might see it as shameful so soon after Lily’s death, but Matilda’s heart was too full of joy to care about such things.

Giles nuzzled into her breasts and wound his fingers into her long hair. ‘Men have often come to me in the past to confide their illicit love for a woman,’ he said softly. ‘I have listened, sympathized and consoled, and all too often tried to make them break off the liaison. When they failed to do this, I would be bewildered, because you see, Matty, I had no real comprehension of the depths and heights of passion. I understand now though.’

‘Are you trying to tell me this will always be an illicit love
affair?’ she asked teasingly. ‘Has the offer of marriage been withdrawn?’

‘Of course not, my darling.’ He kissed her nose and laughed. ‘I think you know what I mean. I didn’t intend to bed you until a ring was on your finger. I didn’t even think of such things. But now we have taken that step it makes things more complicated because I know I am going to want you by my side every day, every night.’

It was dawn now, still raining just as heavily, but the thunder was more distant and the first rays of daylight had made a dull grey light in the room. He leaned up on one elbow and looked down at her, stroking away tendrils of hair from her face. ‘After our conversation last evening I thought that to prevent any talk about us, I could sleep over at Dr Treagar’s house for a few months. But this alters everything, Matty. We’ll have to get married right away.’

‘But we can’t do that,’ she said, startled by his sudden urgency. ‘You know what people will say. I don’t care for myself, but it might get to Tabby’s ears and I couldn’t bear her to think we were betraying her mother’s memory.’

Giles slumped down beside her. Clearly he hadn’t thought of this. ‘What will we do then? I know I won’t be able to get through one day without holding you.’

‘Nor me,’ she agreed. ‘But we’ll have to learn.’

A loud and violent banging on the front door woke them just before six. Giles pulled on his pants and rushed down to answer it.

Solomon, with a sack protecting his shoulders from the rain, was pacing up and down on the porch. ‘I’ve just heard the river’s burst its banks,’ he shouted as Giles opened the door. ‘I fear the folks down there are drowned. Get someone to ring the church bell. I’m going on down there.’

Giles and Matilda dressed immediately and rushed out of the house minutes later. While Matilda ran across to the stables to get the horse and gig, Giles went to Mr Homberger to ask him to ring the bell and tell everyone who came to the summons to come down and help. As Matilda came out of the stables with the gig, he jumped up on to it, took the reins from her and whipped the horse into a gallop.

As they reached the bluff where goods from the boats were hauled up to bring them into town, they stopped, staring for a moment in horror and disbelief at the sight which met their eyes.

The landing stage was swept away, muddy brown water surged over what had been parched low-lying land the day before. Uprooted trees, parts of homes, tables, stools and household utensils bobbed around on the surface, oxen, horses and pigs were desperately trying to swim to dry land, and even above the still heavy rain they could hear the cries of those waiting to be rescued. Two small children were clinging to the branches of a tree, a woman was desperately trying to tread water, a baby in her arms. A small girl sat screaming on an upturned table that even as they surveyed the scene was floating further downstream. But worse still were the floating bodies, face down, arms spread – healthy men, women and children who had slept so soundly they hadn’t even heard the storm, much less the river silently rising until it spilled over and surged through their homes, sweeping them away.

Solomon was already in the water, swimming strongly out to a skiff broken loose from its moorings. He was aboard it in a trice, rowing frantically out towards the woman with the baby, at the same time yelling back for other men to find boats. Two men appeared carrying a canoe between them, and a woman shouted from one shack on slightly higher ground that they could take her boat.

As more and more townsfolk came galloping down on horses and in carts to help with the rescue, Giles took charge. Older women were ordered to go back to open the school-house, collecting as many blankets and dry clothes as they could on the way. Old men were told to commandeer carts and find anything to make stretchers, while he divided the main body of people into groups to search the water’s edge for survivors and bodies.

‘Get the doctor and then take charge at the school-house,’ he ordered Matilda. ‘We’ll need sheeting for bandages and hot water, and get anyone still at home to provide hot drinks for the survivors.’

Amos Bradstock, the father of the children Tabitha had stayed the night with, came riding into town later on, his horse daubed with mud. His crops, like all the other farmers’ in the area, had been destroyed, but he’d ridden in guessing that down by the
river things must be bad. His home was safe and he reassured Giles that his wife would continue to take care of Tabitha until the rain had stopped as the road was virtually impassable with mud and fallen trees.

By midday the death count was nine men, fourteen women, and twelve children ranging from thirteen down to a three-week-old baby, and they used the church as a morgue. Some thirty more people were found, almost all of them injured in some way, from broken limbs to severe lacerations, but over thirty souls were still unaccounted for.

Matilda worked flat out, stripping wet clothes off the injured, washing and dressing wounds and trying to comfort them as they waited for news of their husbands, wives, and children. Those who had already discovered members of their families were in the church, sitting in tight little groups, eyes bleak with grief, too deeply shocked to speak.

Many of the women prayed constantly as they tended the injured, provided tea and hot soup. In a moment of cynicism Matilda wondered how some of them could suddenly become so caring, for these flood victims were mostly the same people they normally shunned. They were the ones Giles had always tried to get help for, the scapegoats of the community, accused of every crime, the supposed perpetrators of every epidemic. If they had shown some concern in the past, perhaps these people wouldn’t have been forced to live in foul shanties at the river’s edge.