The Winter Folly (21 page)

His touch was leaden and cold, and there was nothing about him that seemed truly hungry for her. She tried to push him away.

‘Laurence, no . . . stop it.’

‘I won’t stop it,’ he snapped, his breathing coming faster now. ‘You don’t have any right to tell me to stop it. You’re mine, don’t you understand that?
You belong to me!’

Real fear began to possess her as she realised that he was serious. He was drunk and strong. He was trying to assert something. ‘Please, get off me, this isn’t right . . .’

‘Rich, coming from an adulteress. I might have known that as soon as a nob like him made a play, you’d drop your knickers like a whore.’ With a sudden tug he ripped the
nightdress, tearing it straight downwards over her chest so that her breasts were exposed. She gasped and tried to pull away, but he grabbed her before she had time to move, seizing her arms in
both hands, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

‘No!’ she cried but he yanked her downwards and kneed her thighs apart.
Oh God, he’s going to do it
, she thought, appalled and revolted. Her mind raced despite the
fear and she wondered if now that she had made love to Nicky, her body would be able to accept him, even if he was rough and unwanted. Everything in her wanted to reject him, but he was stronger
and he wrestled her easily down to his will. She was prone and vulnerable. When he released one of her arms so that he could fumble with the flies of his trousers, she tried to push him away with
her free hand but she was helpless. She felt feeble and weak, and that infuriated her.

‘Stop it!’ she shrieked. ‘What kind of a man are you?’

He froze, panting. He had undone his trousers and they hung open. She saw at once that he wasn’t going to be able to do to her what he wanted. He couldn’t make her belong to him
after all. She looked into his face and saw the expression of desperation there.

‘Stop it, Laurence,’ she said pleadingly, trying to keep her voice gentle. ‘Let’s talk about this.’

He flicked his gaze up to her and sighed. For a moment she thought he was going to calm down but his eyes fell on her exposed body and his expression changed. The sight of her nakedness seemed
to infuriate him and, grimacing, he drew back his hand and slapped her hard across the face, sending her head twisting under the blow. The force of it made her temple hit the headboard and she
tasted blood in her mouth. The pain sent her mind spinning and for a dazed moment, she had no idea what had happened until, with a moan, she turned to see that Laurence had pulled back his arm
again.

Despite the shock, she knew what she had to do. Laurence had loosened the grip on her arm and she twisted out of his grasp, slithering away before he knew what was happening. He roared his
frustration as she dashed to the bedroom door in three strides, heading out into the hall knowing only that she had to escape. She ran to the front door, hearing Laurence crash to the floor as he
made to follow her. He was drunk and his loose clothes were inhibiting him but he’d be after her in a moment, maddened now. She could only guess what he might be capable of in this state.
Terror propelled her to the coat stand where she hauled down her summer mac and put it on over her torn nightdress, then pushed her feet into her sandals. He was up and at the door.

‘Come back here!’ he yelled, and she screamed in fright, grabbing at the door catch and frantically trying to open it. She turned and saw him coming at her, his eyes burning with
anger, and on instinct she grabbed the coat stand and threw it in his path. The unexpected obstacle baffled his drunken brain and he fell over it, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Alexandra turned back to the front door, opened it and ran outside, pulling the door shut behind her. She had no keys. She could not go back in any case, not without risking a beating.
Scrabbling in her mac pocket, she found a scarf and dabbed at her throbbing temple. It came away scarlet with blood. Tears rushed to her eyes as the first real pain flooded over her, and she felt
suddenly nauseous with dizziness. Her tongue tasted metallic from the blood in her mouth.

I have to get away
, she thought,
before he gets up and comes after me.
She stuffed the scarf back in her pocket, buttoned the coat and headed out of the barracks.

At the gates, the sentries eyed her curiously and said, ‘Ma’am? Are you all right?’

She mumbled that she was fine and kept her head down, hoping that her wounds weren’t too evident. Her face already felt puffy and swollen and it throbbed with pain. She was past the
soldiers before they had time to ask more questions and they weren’t interested enough to pursue her once she was out of earshot. She walked on at a hurried pace, glad it was a warm night.
The tears of shock and hurt began to sting her eyes.

‘Alex! What are you doing here?’ Nicky looked closer. ‘Oh my God, what’s happened? Quick, come inside.’

She sobbed in his arms and carried on weeping as he bathed her temple with warm water. He gave her a tooth mug with salt water to gargle for her torn cheek and wrapped her in his rough wool
dressing gown that smelled so comfortingly of him.

‘He knows!’ she said through her tears.

‘But how?’ Nicky looked baffled. ‘How on earth did he cotton on?’

‘You put that photograph in the magazine – the one of me in the bath.’

He frowned. ‘What are you talking about? I wouldn’t do that. It would be madness.’

‘Then how—’

Nicky’s face cleared and he said in a grim voice, ‘Polly. That’s the only person it could have been. I fear she’s rather territorial.’

Alexandra stared at him, horrified. ‘Would she really do that?’

‘I’m afraid so. I’ve been thinking for a while that her possessiveness is getting out of control and now I know for sure. I’ll give her a rocket and show her the door
when I see her.’ He reached out and stroked her hair. ‘I’m sorry, darling. I had no inkling she could do something like this.’

‘I can’t go back,’ she whispered, her eyes feeling as swollen as her face. ‘He knows about us – what we’ve done. He wants to kill me.’

‘He’s an animal,’ Nicky said shortly. ‘Of course you can’t go back.’ He pulled her into an embrace and she sank into the strength of his arms. His lips
pressed into the top of her head. ‘He had to find out some time. I just wish it hadn’t been this way. But you’re with me now. I’ll look after you, do you hear?’

She nodded, closing her eyes. She was safe at last. She had come home to Nicky.

Present day

Delilah found her post in the hall, already sorted for her, as usual. She picked up the pile of letters that had grown large in her absence even though she’d been away
such a short time. Taking them through to the snug, she saw several were from as far away as the States and Australia. She knew the form. They’d be asking questions about the house, enquiring
after paintings or objects inside, or claiming that they were distant Stirling relations and wanted more information about the family tree. It was surprising that so many people evidently expected
her to devote such a lot of her time to their pet causes, whether it was writing them an essay on the Fort Stirling china collection or the armaments that hung in the Great Hall, or supplying them
with endless photographs of whatever they wished to see, from vases to curtain fabrics. They seemed to think that their quest to draw up the Stirling family tree was just what she’d been
waiting for in order to fill her empty hours.

She felt more sympathy for the people who wrote politely asking if they might tour the house, or come to examine a particular painting, or even to see the gardens. She liked the requests from
young women to get married in the house. They appealed to her sense of occasion and she always had visions of white wedding dresses, flowers and silver trays of champagne, although she was sure
that the reality would be a horrible scramble behind the scenes to get everything done. She turned down all the requests politely.

She had said yes to the pony club, though, and the date of their gymkhana was approaching. She made a mental note to mention it to John while he was still in a good mood. Feeling reckless, she
fired off a quick email to Susie, inviting her down to stay and have a look at the clothes she’d found in the attic.

There was a knock on the door and Ben put his head round. ‘Not disturbing you, am I?’

She looked up, happy to see him, then remembered how Grey had given her that look when she’d talked about Ben. It was silly – there was nothing between them. ‘No, you’re
not. Come in. I’m just going through all the letters and thinking about how to involve the locals in the house more. I’ve said yes to the pony club but what about opening the gardens up
during the summer? I’m sure lots of people would like that.’

Ben came in. He was dressed in his usual gardening shorts, his legs brown and muscled. She glanced down and then quickly looked away. His unabashed physicality was quite overwhelming when he
stood close to her.

‘I think that used to happen, actually,’ he said, sitting down on the sofa arm, his heavy boots incongruous on the carpet. ‘The housekeeper before Janey told me that she used
to do teas for visitors to the gardens. But nobody’s visited them since I’ve worked here. I wouldn’t mind. I’d love more people to see what we do.’

‘It could be lovely,’ Delilah said, suddenly enthused. ‘We could do gorgeous homemade teas and put some things out for children to play with.’ She could see it now:
little wrought-iron tables with gingham cloths, vintage teapots, plates of cakes and scones, glass dishes overflowing with jam and cream, and happy children running about.

‘Yeah,’ Ben said with a laugh, ‘but you can bet there would be plenty of regulations and licences and goodness knows what. And you’d have to print up leaflets and
tickets, register for VAT and all the rest. Health and safety regs. Provide proper facilities. Get environmental health to grade the kitchen.’

‘Oh,’ Delilah said, deflated. ‘I suppose you’re right. Nothing’s simple, is it?’

‘I don’t mean to pour cold water on it,’ he said quickly. ‘I just think you should consider how much work it will be. But I’m all for it – you know I’d
help. And once it was up and running, it would be great. What I would do with this place if I could!’ He smiled broadly at her, then his expression became suddenly more serious.
‘Delilah, can I ask you something?’

‘Yes – of course.’ As he looked at her, she felt the odd tingle of excitement mixed with fear that had begun to kindle inside her whenever Ben was near. Was Grey right? Was she
attracted to him?
But I love John
, she told herself sternly.
I don’t want to be attracted to anyone else. It would be a disaster all round.

But what you want doesn’t come into it
, said a voice in her mind.
You can’t help what you feel . . . Ben is so sweet and easy to be with. Can’t you imagine how
much brighter your life would be with him?

His voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Tell me to get lost if you want, but are you all right? I noticed that you disappeared for a bit. I wondered where you were.’ His tone became
softer. ‘I’m worried about you if I’m honest. You seemed a bit wound up when you were round at the cottage the other day.’

‘You don’t have to be worried,’ she said, touched at his concern. ‘I only went to a party in London. It’s true, I was a bit low when I came round, but I’m
fine now.’

He said quietly, ‘You looked more than low. You looked desperate. Are you sure you’re all right?’

She nodded, unable to speak all of a sudden.

‘You do know you can come to me any time if you need to talk about anything, don’t you? I’m always here and happy to listen.’

She found her voice and said hesitantly, ‘Of course I do. I appreciate it.’

‘Okay, then.’ He smiled shyly and stood up. ‘I’d better be getting back to work then.’

As he turned to go, she remembered what she had wanted to ask him. ‘Oh, Ben!’

‘Yes?’ He turned back, eyebrows raised expectantly.

‘I know this is a funny question, but I was wondering if you knew how John’s mother died.’

The words hung there between them, sounding very odd now that she had spoken them out loud. The question of why she hadn’t asked John seemed to hover over them.

‘Well . . .’ Ben looked surprised. ‘I . . . I’m sorry but I really have no idea. All I know is that something very bad happened. But people just don’t talk about
it.’

‘Really? That’s very strange, isn’t it? Why the conspiracy of silence?’

‘I can’t say. It was a long time ago now. I do know that my parents weren’t very keen on John’s mother – at least, she was never spoken of with any affection. They
obviously didn’t think she was a good thing. And whatever happened to her didn’t make them think any better of her. They didn’t talk much about her but I always got that
impression, although I couldn’t say exactly how.’

‘Oh. I see.’ She hadn’t expected Ben to know the answers but even so, she was disappointed to reach a dead end so fast.

‘Sorry. I’m afraid we haven’t been all that close as a family.’

‘No, I can see that. Still, my own family isn’t exactly tight-knit. Not if you move away from our town, at any rate. Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome.’ As he headed out, he said over his shoulder, ‘Don’t forget what I said. You can come to me at any time.’

All morning, Delilah thought over what Ben had said about Alex. It seemed awful that John’s father’s family might not have liked his wife. Of course, mothers-in-law
often had problems with their sons’ wives, but for the extended family to think badly of her . . . what reason would they have had? In her photographs she looked respectable enough –
almost a beauty even, with large candid blue eyes that seemed to display a kind heart and a sensitive nature. Perhaps, if she had killed herself, hard-hearted people might dislike or despise her
for being weak. As Grey said, there was less understanding in those days of what might drive someone to suicide. Had Alex been mentally ill? Depressed? Addicted to something that unbalanced her
mind?