White Water (21 page)

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Authors: Pamela Oldfield

BOOK: White Water
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He shook his head and she waited impatiently for him to cross the few yards that separated them, longing for the touch of his hands and the warmth of his breath and the strength of his body drowning in her riches.

‘Oh God,’ he whispered. ‘What are you doing to me? Why now?’

By way of an answer she lifted her arms and gathered up her hair, twirling it into a loose rope. Then she piled it on top of her head and held it there, both arms upstretched to steady it, the tip of her tongue delicately busy along her top teeth. She shifted her weight again and let the angle of her hips change smoothly, turning slightly to one side so that her right breast, pale in the moonlight, would be outlined against the dark wall.

With a hoarse cry he covered the gap between them, took her into his arms and threw her backwards on to the bed. His weight pressed down on top of her, but at once she wriggled beneath him with a small cry of distress.

‘No, Allan!’ she begged. ‘Forgive me. I was wrong. I — ’

But her false protest died. She could not pretend. Instead she watched every movement he made as he stood up and undressed. At last he, too, was naked.

‘Allan!’

She was kneeling on the bed facing him and now she backed away, stepped down on to the floor and went round to stand before him. She looked at the pale shoulders, narrow chest and slim waist. She put out her hands and touched his nipples then slid her fingers down over the narrow hips and down the thick thighs, down to his feet. As she straightened up she let her hair brush against his body and heard torn gasp. His fingers tightened on her shoulders and the pain shot through her, adding to the clamour within her. Then he was pushing her back on to the bed and he lay beside her. His hands, his tongue, his teeth were all over her body, which cried out silently never to stop. Time and again she rolled over, twisted away from him. Always he caught at her wrist, her ankle, her hair, and held her gently captive. At last, when she thought she would die of ecstasy, he thrust deep inside her, smothering her scream, and let his own passion spend itself in the dark warmth of her body.

When it was over he stood up, picked up his clothes and went back to his own room without another word or look. Eloise, her eyes closed, let him go. Tears trickled down her face. She put a trembling hand between her legs as though to comfort her body. He had taken her wildly raging, regardless of her pleas. His hard body had battered and bruised her flesh. She wondered — had her power over him gone? She was terribly aware of his power over her. Because, despite the pain and the fury, she knew her body would soon be crying out for more. She would wed Allan Kendal despite his background. But she must never let him guess her terrible need of him. She must be clever, she told herself desperately. She would tease him, provoke him, even quarrel with him. Somehow, anyhow, she knew she must try to recover the power she had just surrendered.

*

June brought brilliant sunshine and with it an upsurge in their fortunes. Thomas made a slow but sure recovery, until he was declared out of danger by his physician and allowed to sit outside for an hour each day to (take strength from the sun’s rays’. On the twenty-eighth day Nina gave birth to Jason, a healthy boy, weighing nearly nine pounds. It was a short, straightforward delivery and within a week the mother was fit enough to leave her bed. Nina insisted on feeding the baby herself and Melissa gave in graciously, finding it impossible to argue with her determined smile and the persistent shake of her head when the wet nurse was introduced and her function explained. Thomas declared himself well pleased that the new addition to the household was male, for he had suffered the ministrations of
three
women and now looked forward to seeing some of their attentions transferred to his grandson. Melissa and Maggie were in their element and Ladyford fairly buzzed with cheerful activity and happy chatter.

The otter hunt in late July was in Bucher’s honour. It was Hugo’s idea. He, Bucher and Allan had developed a good working relationship and, although they were all very different in temperament, they had become firm friends. Hugo greatly admired Bucher’s professional competence and drew heavily on his expertise, accepting his advice on many occasions and trusting to his judgement when considering most of the innovations that were to be introduced. To avoid clashes with the tinners, the mine was closed down for ten days while the three men explored it together, making drawings and discussing and devising new machinery that might profitably be installed. The tinners were paid for their absence and Hugo hoped there could be no further excuse for ill-feeling. Engrossed in the project, they spent long hours underground, rarely stopping to eat until they returned to Heron each evening in time for supper. Bucher threw himself wholeheartedly into the scheme, and by the time they were finally satisfied with the outcome of their labours they were all exhausted. Hugo reasoned that the hunt would provide them with fresh air, exercise and excitement, all of which had been sadly lacking in their lives for the past weeks.

They assembled on the river bank and then split into two parties. Maria, Hugo, Piers and Matt formed one group and Allan, Bucher and Eloise and Jon formed the other. Melissa had been invited but declined. Martin had not yet returned from his final term at school.

‘I wish Oliver were still at home,’ said Allan. ‘He would have enjoyed it.’

Bucher stood beside him, his spear clutched awkwardly in his right hand. He had never hunted before and the prospect daunted him. The spears were wickedly sharp and he was sure in his own mind that he would never bring himself to plunge a weapon into an animal. He had no idea what to expect from the afternoon and, despite Allan’s reassuring grin, awaited events with trepidation. The hounds seemed to sense his nervousness and growled menacingly whenever he ventured close to them. He had never seen an otter, but had learned from Hugo that a large dog otter had been seen along the stretch of water where a fish pond was under construction. The dam was already being built and when it was finished it would hold back enough of the river water to form a large pond which would then be cleaned, prepared and stocked with breeding fish. Eventually, it would supply both Heron and Ladyford with all the fish they required. A voracious otter would make large inroads into the fish population. A successful hunt would put an end to the problem and would, at the same time, provide an afternoon’s sport.

‘We must spread out along each bank,’ Hugo told them. ‘Then we beat along each bank. He’s likely couched up under the roots of a tree. Keep a watchful eye for his seal.’ Bucher looked confused and turned to Eloise for enlightenment. She laughed ruefully and shook her head.

‘I’m no wiser than you,’ she confessed. ‘Allan! We are none the wiser. Will you explain?’

‘The seal is the footprint,’ he told them. ‘He has no heel to his foot, only a small round pad. ’Tis quite distinctive.’ Hugo led them all towards the wooden bridge where he and his party crossed over with two of the four dogs.

‘Now,’ said Allan, ‘we work our way along the river bank and the dogs should flush it out. We’ll keep an eye on the water. Loose the dogs, Jon!’ he called. ‘Go Bouncer! Go Dido! Seek!’

The two hounds lunged forward as soon as they were released and set off at a fast zig-zag pace. On the opposite side the other two dogs, Jewel and Spanker, were already at work, their tails waving enthusiastically, their heads well down after the scent. The two parties followed, keeping abreast with the river between them. Bucher took a deep breath and followed Eloise, who in turn followed Allan. Their spears glinted in the sunshine and the dogs ahead of them whined eagerly. Eloise carried hers over her shoulder like a musket, but Bucher found this too martial and carried his like a walking stick, grasping it a few inches below the head. Eloise turned to smile at him.

‘Look more cheerfully!’ she teased. ‘’Tis in your honour, this expedition. Aren’t you enjoying it?’

‘I am. Indeed I am,’ he lied hastily. ‘I hope I shall acquit myself well. You — er — you look greatly at ease, if I may say so. And that plum colour suits you most admirably.’

‘Why, thank you, Master Bucher.’

‘Call me Hans, I beg you.’

She smiled, flattered by the admiration evident in his eyes.

‘You enjoy hunting?’ he asked.

She shrugged elegantly. ‘’Tis part of the Heron way. We are country people and hunting is part of our lives.’

He fell in beside her, enchanted by her sure footedness across the hillocky grass, and by the slimness of the little hand that lifted her skirt clear of the grass as she walked.

‘And,’ he said, lowering his voice, ‘you will soon be part of the family. I fear I shall miss the wedding, for in August I plan to return home for a few weeks. My father’s health is poor and my mother begs me to visit them before too long.’

‘We shall miss you,’ said Eloise. She smiled brilliantly at him and a pale flush of embarrassment tinged his pale cheeks.

‘Oh!’ Eloise tripped suddenly and he put out a hand to steady her. At that moment Allan turned to see if they were keeping up. Bucher snatched his hand away and his colour deepened.

‘Are you managing?’ Allan asked.

‘Hans is looking after me. I am in good hands,’ Eloise answered. ‘You go on ahead if you wish.’

Bucher began to splutter out a protest and immediately quickened his pace. He heard Eloise laugh. He began to hope the otter would appear and distract everyone’s attention. But it was some time before his wishes were met.

‘Go Jewel! Go Spanker!’ cried Maria and Matt began to halloo, his large hands held to his mouth in a parody of a hunting horn.

‘Master Otter has seen us coming!’ laughed Maria. ‘He is probably a mile ahead of us by — Ah! What have you found?’

Jewel, the little bitch, was whining eagerly and Hugo called, ‘She has picked up a scent — and here’s a seal — and another! Go Jewel! Go with her Spanker.’

The two dogs were used to working together and in seconds had flushed out a large otter from the bark of a rotting willow which overhung the water. With a howl of pain Spanker sprang back, a long gash spurting blood from his muzzle. At the same time the large dog otter leapt for the safety of the water and vanished under it in a swirl of bubbles and a circle of widening ripples. The dogs began to bark shrilly, some racing up and down the bank, while Hugo and Maria stared down into the green depths, searching among the weed for signs of movement.

‘Quickly,’ cried Allan, calling his party together. ‘He may make a break this way. Have your spears ready.’

They lined the bank, spears raised. There was no sign of the otter.

‘We have lost him, I fear,’ said Bucher thankfully.

‘No, no,’ said Allan. ‘We have him on both sides. He will go up or down river. The dogs will find him.’

Eloise gave a scream and threw her spear into the water. ‘He’s there! I saw him. Look there. He’s your side!’

A frenzied barking broke out as the otter surfaced suddenly just below Maria, and before the startled dogs could collect their wits he was away, streaking for cover across the grass. Hugo, Maria and Piers set off in pursuit, while Matt waded gallantly into the water to retrieve Eloise’s spear.

‘Thank you, Matt,’ she said and he grinned sheepishly and waded back to join his own party.

The otter was old and wily and led the two dogs a fine chase. Finally it doubled back and headed once more for the safety of its natural habitat. Splash! He was in again and this time Bouncer leapt in to the attack. Before the otter could submerge to a safe depth, the dog was upon it and a fight ensued. The otter made no sound but the dog barked hysterically, occasionally yelping as his adversary’s sharp teeth caught him. The second dog, Dido, went in to aid her partner, but she was too late. The otter seized Bouncer by the throat, and with a gurgling cry the dog was dragged under the water and out of sight.

‘He’ll drown!’ cried Eloise. ‘Allan,
do
something. I see them — no they’re gone again! Oh poor Bouncer, you must help him!’

Allan and Jon were already wading into the water, their spears held aloft. Hugo and Matt prepared to follow them if needed.

‘If you see them, take care,’ cried Hugo. ‘I saw a dog once speared by mistake. ’Tis easy to make an error.’

‘I must go in,’ Bucher told Eloise. He had gone very pale and hesitated on the edge of the bank. Eloise was too concerned for the dog to pay him any heed.

‘Beyond that boulder!’ cried Allan. ‘No, ’tis only the mud they have stirred up. Where
are
they, in God’s name?’

Suddenly, with an uprush of water and broken reed the two animals surfaced, no longer together. The dog gulped desperately for air and Hugo dragged it, howling, to the bank. It was badly mauled, one foreleg bitten right through to
expose
the pale bone. It gulped greedily at the air. The otter swerved away from the men and dogs in the water and dived and went downstream. Then it scrambled out on Allan’s side of the river and once more set off at a great speed in the opposite direction. The remaining three dogs followed it, baying hysterically. They spread out, out-ran it, and it doubled back straight towards Allan who threw his spear, missed it and cursed roundly. By that time the otter was heading for Bucher who waited, spear upraised. In his nervousness he threw too early and Eloise threw too late. The otter weaved between them and went back into the water for the third time — and there they lost it. The dogs hunted in vain, but were finally recalled. Matt was sent back to Heron with the injured dog and the remaining hunters sat down to rest and regain their breath.

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