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BOOK: The Unconventional Maiden
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She fought for control of her emotions and managed to blink back her tears and tilted her chin. ‘I will try to do as you say and hope and pray that all will come right for us.’

‘Good lass,’ he said.

Gawain’s heart was heavy with anger and misery as he took his leave of Beth.

Later on the journey home to Raventon Hall, he tried to think of ways in which he could honourably be rid of Mary, yet keep the girls with him, and at the same time have Beth come and stay at Raventon Hall without creating a scandal. His mind was set on telling Mary how he felt in no uncertain terms. Yet as soon as he arrived home and Lydia came running towards him, he knew with a sinking heart that it was going to be more difficult to deprive the girls of their mother than he’d thought.

‘Papa, you’re home,’ said Lydia, flinging herself at him. ‘I have missed you so. Can I stay with you and never go away again?’

‘That I cannot promise, Lydia sweeting,’ he replied, hugging her tightly. ‘But you must never go away again without my knowing where you’re going.’

Suddenly he became aware that Mary was standing in the doorway with Tabitha clinging to her skirts.
She was clad in black. The colour did not suit her; it made her features look washed out. He remembered how he had once believed that Mary loved him. That was the biggest self-deception he had experienced in his whole life. Beth loved him. He was almost sure of that. The woman watching him had an expression in her eyes that caused rage to unfurl deep inside him, knowing she only wanted to use him. He longed to say
you should never have returned
, but knew that he couldn’t say it in front of the girls. He yearned for Beth and wanted to see her smile again, to make her happy. But he realised that she had been much more perceptive than him when she had spoken her thoughts on how he would be bound by his love for his daughters. If he were to separate them from their mother, what effect would that have on their trust in him?

‘The three of us have missed you, haven’t we, girls?’ said Mary, walking towards Gawain, her hips swaying and a smile glued to her features.

‘Then you should not have kept the girls away from me so long,’ retorted Gawain.

One of the stable boys came running and Gawain indicated that he tend his horse, then, with Lydia holding his hand, made for the house. Bending down in front of Tabitha, he smiled at her and then scooped her up with his other arm and carried her indoors. He was aware of the child’s small soft hand curled about his neck and her round solemn eyes fixed on his profile. He thought of Beth and wished that this child was theirs and she could have borne him a son one day: the grandson her father had so wanted. He was seized by
such a depth of longing for that to come true that he felt tears prick his eyes.

Catherine rose to her feet as he entered the hall with the children, followed by Mary. ‘You have seen Beth?’ she asked.

‘Aye, she is in London and plans to remain there for now,’ he answered.

‘I would go to her if you wished it of me,’ said Catherine.

‘Not just yet,’ said Gawain, pleased nevertheless by her thoughtfulness. ‘I need you here to keep your eye on the children. Take them now, so I can speak to their mother.’

‘Can’t we stay with you a little longer, Papa?’ asked Lydia, looking up at him anxiously.

‘I will speak with you again shortly,’ he said, kissing Tabitha before setting her down beside her sister and smiling at them both.

Lydia looked relieved.

Catherine took them by the hand and led them from the hall.

There was a long silence. A serving man entered the hall, welcomed Gawain home with a smile and asked if there was anything he could fetch him. He asked for ale and some bread and ham and the serving man hurried out.

‘I—I suppose you expect me to beg for your forgiveness,’ said Mary.

Gawain stared at her with a lack of expression on his face. ‘It would be a start, but it will take a long time before I will be able to find it in my heart to forgive
you for removing the children from my care. I have no illusions as to why you have returned. It was certainly not for love of me—it would be hypocritical for you to pretend differently. I have considered suggesting that you take yourself off to a nunnery for your safety—’

‘I do not think the religious life would suit me,’ interrupted Mary. ‘Besides, I will miss the children and they will miss me.’

‘You did not care about their feelings when you took them from me,’ he said icily.

‘I admit I was selfish,’ cried Mary, gripping her hands tightly together. ‘But let us make a fresh start. I will give you another son and we will be a happy family once more.’

Gawain stared at her in disbelief. ‘You will never share my bed again. You have lived with another man as his wife. You said that he was your true husband and that I was not. I have that in writing. Do not think that this will be your home for very long. I plan to have our so-called marriage annulled.’

Mary flinched. ‘Do you have to be so cold-hearted towards me? Have you no pity to spare for me? I was mistaken in Lionel. He beat me as did my father when he was in his cups. It was not easy for me to pluck up the courage to return here. Is it that you have used up all your love and compassion on that Beth Llewellyn?’ she hissed.

Gawain’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean by that? What has my aunt told you?’

‘Catherine told me little, but I know that she now hates me,’ said Mary petulantly, ‘and that you and she
have a fondness for Jonathan Llewellyn’s half-sister. She loves you! I saw it in her eyes.’

Gawain stiffened, but he remained silent as the serving man re-entered the hall carrying a tray of food and drink. One of the trestle tables had not been put away and Gawain indicated that he place the tray there, then dismissed him. He sat down on a bench and poured himself some ale. He gulped half of it down before saying, ‘How come you know of Jonathan Llewellyn? You’re not going to tell me he was another young lover of yours that you forgot to mention?’ he said sarcastically.

Mary’s mouth tightened and she clenched her fists and flew at him and would have hit him, if he had not caught hold of her wrist. ‘You insult me! How dare you accuse me of such a sin. I am hurting inside and out and you would hurt me more,’ she panted.

Gawain had difficulty controlling his anger. ‘I am hurting, too, but what do you really care about me?’

Mary’s expression altered. ‘I had thought to provide you with information about Jonathan if you were kind to me. Apparently you believe his death was no accident.’

He frowned and his grip tightened on her wrist. ‘Who told you that? What is it you know?’

‘Maybe I will tell you in the days to come if you are kind to me.’ She pressed against him. ‘Forgive me, Gawain! I will show you the scars where Lionel beat me and you will see how I have suffered. I should never have left you. People believe we are married and they need never know the truth about Lionel and I.’

Gawain wanted to throw Mary off him. He was sorry that she had been beaten, but she had brought it on herself. Right now it was a struggle for him not to hit out at her himself. He could not stay here or he might actually end up doing so. Beth’s face swam before his eyes and he thought of her courage and strength and he knew he had to see her and regain his equilibrium. Besides, he was worried about having left her without a protector. He should return to London, but he would not go alone; he would take his aunt and the children with him. He would find an inn where they could stay whilst he visited Beth.

Several days later, he was almost ready to set out for London, having had to postpone his departure due to the autumnal rains. He had barely spoken to Mary in all that time especially after he had found her in his bedchamber. The first time he had found her making a search of his room apparently for the missive she had sent him. Fortunately he carried it on his person wherever he went. The second time she had been lying naked on the bed and he’d had to steel himself to roll her up in the counterpane and thrust her outside in the passage with her clothes. He would have departed earlier if he could, but he would not force the children or Catherine to suffer travelling in such inclement weather. He had kept his plans to himself until the last few hours, not trusting Mary to behave in a reasonable manner.

There came a knock on the door of his bedchamber. ‘Who is it?’ he called.

‘It is I, Catherine,’ said his aunt. ‘Nephew, you have a visitor downstairs.’

‘Who is it?’

Catherine smiled. ‘Come down and see. He says that he has no intention of delaying our journey.’

‘Where is Mary?’

‘She has gone to visit Mildred Tyler.’

He frowned. ‘I hope she did not take the children with her?’

Catherine shook her head. ‘I made sure they were safe upstairs with me.’

Gawain wasted no time hurrying downstairs, curious to see this visitor whom his aunt was being secretive about. He entered the hall and his gaze went to the man rising from the settle in front of the fire.

‘I hope that you don’t mind my calling so unexpectedly, Gawain, but I felt I needed to see you before you left for London,’ said his visitor.

‘By St George, it’s you, Nick!’ Gawain walked towards him with an outstretched hand. ‘When did you get back?’

‘A few days ago,’ said Nicholas Hurst, shaking his hand.

‘Do sit down,’ said Gawain. ‘Can I offer you some refreshment?’

‘No, I will not delay you long. In truth, if I had known you were also bound for London, I would have sought you out there.’

‘Ah!’ Gawain stared at him. ‘You have seen your brothers, of course.’

‘I have spoken to Chris,’ he said shortly, sitting down
and placing his hands on his thighs. ‘He must be mad, not only allowing Pip to go off with a troupe of travelling players, but also to decide to print my journal without a word to me.’

‘It was meant to be a surprise,’ said Gawain ruefully, scratching his jaw.

‘The kind of surprise I can live without,’ said Nick, scowling. ‘My scribblings were not meant for other people to read. I believe that Pip and your ward have also altered my writing in an effort to improve it.’

‘I can understand why you could feel vexed about that and Beth did have some reservations about printing without your permission,’ said Gawain. ‘But I have read the original and the other versions and was of the opinion that folk would enjoy reading it, too, but—’

‘That is as it may be, but it still does not make it right that my brothers should go behind my back and do this,’ interrupted Nick. ‘I do not blame you and this ward of yours for seizing on it. Naturally, the pair of you only wanted to please my brothers.’

‘No, that’s not true,’ said Gawain. ‘Frankly, Beth persuaded me that there was money to be made out of your scribblings and I believed her.’

Nick stared at him fixedly. ‘I have been told about Mistress Llewellyn and I’m surprised at you, Gawain, for allowing yourself to be influenced by a woman.’

‘You have not seen or heard her yet,’ said Gawain with a faint smile. ‘I suggest, Nick, that you withhold judgement until you have met her. She will surprise you.’

‘I am not as certain as you about that.’

‘I would not expect you to be as you have not met her,’ said Gawain. ‘She will be very disappointed if you cancel the printing now. She’s been through a difficult time.’

‘I heard that her brother and father were killed. She has my sympathy,’ said Nick.

‘She has suffered more misfortune in that her business premises were deliberately set alight recently.’

Nick started forwards. ‘My journal!’

Gawain smiled reassuringly. ‘She had it safe in an iron chest. I tell you, Nick, she is a woman of good sense.’

‘I will take your word for it and do as you suggest and speak to her. But I do not expect to be dissuaded from my decision.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Perhaps we can travel together, seeing as you are for London.’

‘My aunt and my daughters are to accompany me,’ said Gawain. ‘You might prefer going on ahead.’

Nick smiled wryly. ‘Thanks for the warning, but it is always good to have company on the road. I will travel with you as far as Smallhythe and then meet you in London.’

Chapter Eleven

B
eth was reading through the rough proof of some of the pages of Nicholas Hurst’s journal when she heard the front door open and an unfamiliar voice enquire after the owner of the shop by name. She put down the sheets of paper and went through to the front of the building. A tall rangy figure of a man with sunburnt features and reddish-gold hair stood there. She thought he looked vaguely familiar and for a moment she was reminded of the king when he was a few years younger. Then she realised that she was being foolish to think that they could be kin for there was naught splendid about this man’s attire. He was dressed neatly, but there was no touch of the peacock about him.

‘You are Mistress Llewellyn?’ he asked, meeting her gaze.

Beth noticed that his eyes were more green than hazel and they contained a hint of disapproval. She
hoped that she did not have a smudge of ink on her nose. ‘Aye, I am Beth Llewellyn,’ she said warmly. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I have rather a large bone to pick with you,’ said the stranger.

‘I am sorry to hear it, sir,’ she said, surprised. ‘Will you explain what I have done to annoy you, Master—?’

‘Nicholas Hurst,’ he replied, ‘and according to my brother, Christopher, you had the audacity to rewrite my words and plan to sell my journal in book form.’

Beth’s face lit up and she held out her hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Hurst! Your journal contained much that is fascinating and full of interest. It would be such a shame if you have come all this way to tell me that you are utterly against the notion of making it available to those who would wish to buy it. I believe it could make you a rich man one day.’

‘If it is so fascinating and full of interest, why did you and my brother Phillip feel a need to rewrite it, Mistress Llewellyn?’ he asked.

‘Because, Master Hurst, even the most exciting adventures can appear dull if the writer seeps all the emotion out of events by writing about them as if he was simply walking along his own high street and they were commonplace.’

A flush darkened his cheekbones. ‘I would not claim to possess the talents of Master Chaucer or Homer, Mistress Llewellyn,’ he said stiffly. ‘But I have only to read my own words and the memories come flooding back and I can feel the thrill and the fear.’

‘But others do not possess those memories, Master
Hurst,’ she said promptly. ‘So that is why it was necessary for your brother and I to use our descriptive powers and fill in the gaps for your future readers.’ She dropped her hand and said urgently, ‘Surely you would not rob those who will never leave the security of their own hearth of the vicarious pleasure of sharing in your experiences?’

His brow knit. ‘You really believe that there is a market for my ramblings?’

‘Hardly ramblings, Master Hurst—that would mean your writing is all over the place, when it is set down in an orderly fashion,’ said Beth. ‘It just lacks—’

‘There is no need for you to repeat your opinion of what it lacks, Mistress Llewellyn,’ he responded. ‘I must admit that I do find it difficult to accept that a young woman such as yourself is experienced enough to pass judgement in such matters.’

‘That is a typical male remark,’ said Beth sweetly. ‘My guardian, Sir Gawain Raventon, was of a similar opinion when we first met, but if you were to speak with him now, I deem you would find that he has changed his mind concerning my abilities. I have grown up in this business, Master Hurst, and I have confidence that I know that your so-called
ramblings
could be a success.’

Nick Hurst hesitated. ‘And if I refuse to permit you to use the material you have taken from my journal?’

‘Then I and my guardian will miss out on recovering some of our losses and perhaps go out of business, Master Hurst,’ said Beth.

He surprised her by smiling. ‘You must have a lot
of faith in my ramblings if you believe they could help save your business, Mistress Llewellyn.’

‘Indeed, I have,’ she said firmly.

‘Then I withdraw my objection and, if you are short of funds to achieve your plans, then I am prepared to invest in your company.’

She was taken aback. ‘That is exceedingly generous of you, Master Hurst, but Master Christopher Hurst has already provided a sum of money for a special edition of your journal.’

‘I am aware of Christopher’s part in this, but my offer, Mistress Llewellyn, is more in the way of a business venture,’ said Nick.

‘Then you had best speak to my guardian. I am not allowed to make such decisions without his being consulted,’ said Beth.

‘I will certainly speak to Gawain about such an investment. It was he who suggested I visit you here.’

Beth stiffened. ‘You have seen him?’

‘Aye, he is on his way here now,’ informed Nick. ‘Is it permitted that I see your workshop?’ he added, changing the subject.

‘Of course you may,’ said Beth, her emotions all in a whirl at the thought of seeing Gawain so soon after his last visit. What was it he had to tell her? Was it Nicholas Hurst’s sudden arrival that had brought him hotfoot to London, or was it some other matter of a more worrying nature concerning Mary?

Nick cleared his throat. ‘Mistress Llewellyn, you appear to have gone off into a trance.’

Beth collected herself. ‘I beg your pardon! Do come
through to the back. Some pages of your journal were taken off the press a short while ago and I would be interested to see what you think of them. I may add that I am having woodcuts made of your drawings.’

He followed her through into the print room and she introduced him to her employees. As he asked questions she listened and decided that he was not only a man of adventure, but one of intelligence, and well educated if he had read Chaucer and Homer. He seemed impressed by all he saw, and afterwards she asked if he would care for some refreshments.

‘I would like that,’ he answered with a warm smile.

Later when they sat together, drinking wine and sharing a simple meal, she enquired after his latest adventures. So he regaled her with tales of Venice and Constantinople that held her enthralled. As he took his leave, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mistress Llewellyn, and I hope it will not be too long before we meet again.’

‘You are welcome to call in at any time and see how your journal is progressing. I’ve enjoyed your visit, Master Hurst, and pray that Sir Gawain will agree to your proposal,’ said Beth, seeing him out.

Once he had gone, she returned to what she was doing earlier, feeling all of a dither, wondering when she could expect Gawain.

Gawain stood in the doorway, watching Beth, who appeared completely absorbed in her task. There was no
one else in the print room and for all he knew there was no one upstairs, either. What if he was their enemy? He or she could slit her throat in no time if they surprised her as they had done her father. The thought caused his blood to run cold and he realised just how much he cared for her. It was more than just a physical attraction or even the simple pleasure he found being in her company. If she were to die, then a light would go out of his life.

‘Beth,’ he called in a low voice.

Instantly she turned her head. Their eyes met and she saw something in his expression that caused her to rise from the stool and hurry towards him with her hands outstretched. He caught hold of them and drew her gently towards him. She rested her head against his chest. ‘I know we should not be doing this, but I am so pleased to see you,’ she said in a muffled voice.

‘I am glad to see you, too, but you should lock the doors when you are here alone,’ he chided. ‘What if it had not been me, but someone who meant you harm?’

She looked up at him. ‘But it is you and so I am not going to dwell on the worst that could happen to me when you hold me like this. You told me not to look on the dark side, but to have hope. What has brought you here? Was it Master Nicholas Hurst’s visit?’

‘So you have met him already?’

‘Aye.’

‘No, it was not his visit. I was already making ready to come when he arrived at the house.’ His eyes darkened and then he forced a smile. ‘What is your opinion of him?’

‘I like him,’ replied Beth, smiling. ‘Although I think at first he was not prepared to like me.’

‘No doubt you soon changed his mind,’ said Gawain, feeling a twinge of jealousy.

‘Aye, he wants to invest money in the business. I have told him he must discuss it with you.’

‘He would make you a good husband,’ blurted out Gawain.

A startled Beth said, ‘You’ve changed your mind! I thought you disapproved of him as a husband. Besides, I hardly know him and I have little in the way of a dowry. As well, I thought that you and I—’

‘I know. It is what I want, too, but what if—?’ Gawain could not understand why he felt compelled to ask, ‘What if you were to get to know him better and a dowry was of no importance to him?’

The colour rose in her cheeks. ‘Why do you persist in asking me such questions? Am I and my business such a burden to you that you would prefer it if another man would take us both on? Is it that after all you realise that you love Mary despite the way she has treated you?’

‘By St George, Beth, you are not a burden to me!’ protested Gawain. ‘It is that I do not wish to appear selfish. I want your happiness more than aught else in the world.’

‘Aught else?’ she asked swiftly, her heart leaping in her breast. ‘What about your children’s happiness? Is that not of more importance to you? And Mary—is she prepared to enter a nunnery? What did she have to
say when you mentioned annulling your marriage? I mean … that is if you did speak of it to her.’

Gawain scowled. ‘Of course I spoke of it to her. She is far from pleased, but I have every intention in proceeding with my plan however long it takes.’

Beth said in a voice that shook, ‘Then I am prepared to be patient. Besides, I deem that Nick Hurst’s life of travel is a lonely one at times, so it is only fair that he has a woman who can give her heart and soul to him.’

‘You have already drawn such a conclusion after meeting him?’ said Gawain, feeling that twinge of jealousy again.

Beth nodded. ‘You are forgetting I have read his journal and as a woman I read between the lines. Now shall we not discuss Nick Hurst any further? How are your daughters? No doubt they were delighted to see you.’

His face softened. ‘I have brought the girls to London with me. They are with Aunt Catherine as I had no intention of leaving them with Mary in case she should hide them from me with a view to blackmail me into doing what she wishes.’ His expression was chilling. ‘I took them to an inn and Aunt Catherine is showing them London whilst you and I talk. Mary told me something unexpected in conversation. It appears that she knew Jonathan.’

Beth started. ‘What! How come? Tell me, what did she have to say about him?’

He took Beth’s hand and led her towards the settle. ‘Hardly anything, but she is holding something back. She says if I am kind to her then she will tell me what
it is, but so far I am none the wiser despite my allowing her to stay under my roof.’ He kissed Beth’s quivering fingers and then released her hand. ‘What are your thoughts on that?’

‘She might have seen him at the boatyard when it still belonged to her father?’

‘Most likely, but who sent Jonathan there to have a boat built?’ said Gawain. ‘Did he ever mention having connections in Smallhythe?’

‘No, but let me think,’ said Beth, a difficult process when Gawain was sitting so close to her. ‘The only connection I can think of is Father Hugh, but if that is so, then why did he not send Jonathan to his brother James’s yard and give him the business?’

Gawain’s dark brows formed a deep V as he considered her words. ‘Perhaps he did, but for reasons of his own James sent him to my father-in-law,’ he said slowly.

‘I wonder what she knows that could be of help to your investigations,’ murmured Beth.

‘That is what I aim to find out,’ said Gawain.

He was silent for so long that Beth reached out and touched his face with a gentle hand. ‘Are you going to tell me what you are thinking?’

‘There are some things that a man should not speak of to a lady,’ he said, catching hold of her fingers and pressing them to his lips again before getting to his feet.

She looked up at him. ‘You will be careful!’

His face softened as he gazed down at her. ‘I’ll take care, but it is you who needs a bodyguard and I can’t be here for you.’

‘I have Sam,’ said Beth.

‘And where is Sam now?’

She pulled a face. ‘He can’t be here all the time, either.’

Gawain knew that to be true. ‘I will provide you with another bodyguard.’

She raised her eyebrows. ‘And where will you get him from? You have need of Tom.’

He grinned. ‘You will see. In the meantime, I am hungry, so shall we go and dine at the inn where I left my aunt and my daughters?’

She did not need asking twice. She was looking forward to seeing Catherine again and the girls, too, although it would not do to get too fond of them just yet.

As it was, Gawain’s aunt and daughters were not to be found at the inn, so over their meal Beth and Gawain discussed the business and the rebuilding that needed to go ahead next door now that the charred remains of the shop and print room had been cleared. The oncoming winter might cause delays, but nevertheless, come next summer, hopefully all would be completed.

When they returned to the print room it was to find Nick Hurst there, talking to the master printer. He smiled as he caught sight of them. ‘I am glad I have not missed you both because I have received an urgent message from the captain whose ship I travelled on when I went to the New World and must visit him in Portsmouth.’

‘Does that mean you will be off on your travels again soon?’ asked Beth.

‘Possibly. It all depends on what he has to say.’ said Nick, his eyes warm as they rested on her face. ‘But I still wish to invest money in your business, Mistress Llewellyn.’

‘Oh, please, do call me Beth,’ she said, smiling up at him.

He cocked an eye in Gawain’s direction. ‘I believe I have to deal with you.’

BOOK: The Unconventional Maiden
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