A Companion for Life (21 page)

“But Mr Bowen, you made it clear the day we
married that there would be other women.”

“I never said that.”

“You told me you had a mistress.”

“I don’t have a mistress now!”

“Exactly, so it’s perfectly reasonable of me
to expect you to be bedding someone. I don’t understand why you’re
so angry.”

“Don’t you expect to be that someone?”

“You’ve been away for four days. Lady
Gillingham said you’d go mad if you didn’t…”

“Lady Gillingham is a lying buwch.”

Lilly blushed as dark eyes reflected in the
mirror hanging over the mantel held her spell bound. She bravely
approached the fire and touched his sleeve. “I was so worried you’d
die in a carriage accident. Jones said you wouldn’t. He said you’d
make sure you’d return alive. I’m glad you didn’t tell me you’d
rescued Grace. I would have been frantic with worry.”

“
Frantic?” Eyebrows rose over dark eyes
watching her through a smoke hazed reflection. “So this other man
with beautiful legs hasn’t been haunting your thoughts?”

“Mr Bowen, there is no other man.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong Mrs Bowen, but I
remember you saying ‘there is no other man, but I’m in love with a
man’. If there’s no other man, there’s only one awful conclusion;
you must be in love with a mythical godlike creature that just
happens to have my face and legs. How can a mere mortal compete
against a godlike version of himself? I wouldn’t know where to
begin.”

The gleam in his eyes gave her courage to put
a hand on his waist. “You could kiss me.”

“How will I know if you’re kissing me not
this swan-god Zeus?”

Lilly slid her arm around his waist and stood
on her tiptoes, offering her lips to the smiling eyes. “Why would I
want to kiss Zeus when I could kiss you?”

“I’m feeling sweetly seduced. Why I was
sulking just now?”

Lily smiled as he set aside his pipe and with
a blissful sigh and put her head on his chest, but jumped away as
Mr Bowen gasped in pain. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.” It was a tight little word. Lily pulled
away her arms in confusion. His face was scrunched up as he touched
his chest. “The she-devil kicked me. At least it’s not a broken
rib. I think if you put your head on my shoulder…”

“Have you been examined by a doctor?”

“I’m bruised Cariadon, what can a mountebank
do?”

“I’m going to send for the doctor.”

“He’ll look at my bruises and tell me I’m too
old to be wrestling and then charge me three quid. I’d rather throw
the money in the street.”

“I’m going to go tell Jones you need the
doctor.”

“Wait! You haven’t heard my confession.” Lily
stopped at the door and turned around. “Yr wyf fi’n eich caru
chi.”

“What does that mean?”

“Come to my room this evening Cariadon and
I’ll translate it for you. It’s strange how words one has never
spoken to a living soul can be as familiar as the smell of autumn
leaves waiting to be set alight.”

With her hand on the door handle Lily blushed
with pleasure as he winked at her. “I have a confession too.”
Eyebrows rose daring her to risk everything. “I love you. I’ve
always loved you. That was my secret.”

Dark eyes filled with a solemn gratitude.
“Cariadon…I can’t describe what those words have done to me. Come
back here and let me show you with a kiss.”

“I’d better go send for the doctor before I
accidentally kill you and die of a broken heart.”

“Yr wyf fi’n eich caru chi!” Alternating soft
and guttural sounds followed her as she resisted temptation and
hurried away to find Jones. Even half way down the stairs she could
hear the sound of humming drifting out of Mr Bowen’s open door
filling the house with happiness. He looked more than a little
pleased to be the owner of her heart. Lily sighed in relief and
felt invisible burdens lift off her shoulders and float away. Her
heart was no longer alone; it was Mr Bowen’s companion. Lily’s
euphoric happiness was interrupted by the sound of Rosamund’s voice
sneering in her head, ‘You’re a greedy fat pig!’ Yes she was
greedy. It wasn’t enough that she was Mr Bowen’s wife or that she
enjoyed his kisses; she wanted his heart.

The dining table, covered with a pristine
white cloth, seemed to smile. Silver dishes and candle sticks
glinted in the blaze of candlelight. Penryth had ordered the room
to be well lit. He wanted to be able to look down the table and see
the woman he loved blushing as he caught her eye. He’d counted
twenty seven glances when he was disturbed by Grace, sitting half
way down the table whispering across at William, “What’s wrong with
your uncle? Why is he making that awful noise?” Penryth pretended
he couldn’t hear as he buttered a slice of bread.

“He’s humming. It means he’s happy.”

“Happy? About what?”

“Jones thinks Uncle is in love with Aunt
Lily. I told Jones he was an idiot, but he’s wagered me a gold
guinea that Uncle’s lost his heart, but I happen to know Uncle
hasn’t because he said so. That’ll be one guinea more than nothing
in the next nine months.”

“In love? With Aunt Lily?”

“Shush! Uncle Penryth has the devil’s own
ears. I swear he can hear a mouse fart.”

Penryth kept a straight face as he watched
Lily look up from her plate at Grace and then slowly slide her eyes
down the length of the table to where he was sitting infusing a
concentrated dose of happiness into his blood. He winked at her and
smiled as the sudden pink in her cheeks was accentuated by her
ivory cap. In her new pale yellow dress she looked like a generous
slice of pound cake topped off with a dollop of thick cream. “Is
everything to your liking Mrs Bowen?”

“Yes, thank you Mr Bowen.”

“Good. I asked Jones to serve us some cake
and chocolate in my chamber before bed. I wouldn’t want your sleep
disturbed by an empty stomach.”

“That’s very kind of you Mr Bowen.”

“Is it? I didn’t say your sleep wouldn’t be
disturbed.” He winked at her again as her face flushed a deep rose
and stared down at her plate.

William snorted in contempt. “Aunt Lily will
be lucky if she gets another full night’s sleep before she’s laid
to rest in the crypt.”

“Penryth watched Lily stare at her plate.
“Would you be upset if I disturbed your sleep for comfort Mrs
Bowen?” A bashful glance from his wife and he was a green youth
still smarting from his first shave. She knew exactly what sort of
comfort he might seek.

“How do the Welsh say no?”

Penryth’s lungs ached for oxygen. The thought
of waking in the night and being welcomed into magical arms made
his own cheeks burn with uncertainty. Years of experience melted
into meaningless images. Nothing had prepared him for the sensuous
pleasure of falling into an emotional mountain of autumn leaves.
“Na!” The word came out sounding like he was clearing his throat.
He blushed again as his nephew stared at him with a concerned
expression. “No is na. Yes is ei.”

Grace scrunched her face in disdain. “Why
would anyone say na when they could say no? It sounds stupid.”

William’s upper lip curled in disdain.
“Wanting to marry you was stupid! Welsh is older than English,
isn’t it Uncle Penryth?”

Penryth’s eyes refused to be dragged away
from the earlobe peeking out from underneath Lily’s cap.
“Hmmm.”

“Grace snorted in contempt. “You can’t know
that William; you weren’t alive then.”

“I am right, aren’t I Uncle Penryth?” Penryth
made another noncommittal sound and continued to watch his wife who
appeared to be having sudden difficulty keeping hold of her knife
and fork. She was attempting to saw in half a round new potato, but
her utensils were slipping in her hands and the potato kept sliding
away to another part of her plate. Determined, she tried one more
time to pin it down with a mutual fork full of chopped kale, but
she lost control of her knife and the small round missile covered
in oyster sauce and greens smacked her in the chest and fell into
her lap. Consumed with a sudden need to touch his beloved, Penryth
grabbed his clean serviette and hurried to her side waving it like
a banner.

Her eyes shimmered with tears as he bent over
her. “My new dress…”

“Don’t cry Cariadon or I’ll order you five
hundred dresses. He gently wiped up the unsightly splotches of dark
green dotting her chest. “This yellow suits you…” The compliment
seemed to startle her. She stared into his eyes as he whispered,
“…though nothing suits you even better.” His wink ensured the
desired rose tinted blush, but her bashful smile tempted him beyond
endurance. He was falling headfirst into autumn leaves, enveloped
in comfort and peace. Crisp October air filled his nostrils; the
scent of a sleepy earth preparing for winter’s rest. He was
scooping armfuls of golden yellows, reds, and fading greens. Autumn
colors were showering orange hair sharing innocent laughter.
Exhaling in relief, the past collided with the present as he landed
softly on a welcoming smile.

Parted lips covered his limbs with icy
gooseflesh and sent waves of warmth through his stomach. The
lightest touch on his cheek deafened him to Grace and William’s
groans of disgust and horror until she removed her hand to catch
her falling cap. Resurfacing he ended the kiss and winked at his
blushing wife. Humming to himself he started back for his seat
feeling like he was wading through warm water until the cloud in
his brain cleared enough to hear Grace say, “Aunt Lily…what did you
do to your hair? It looks awful!”

Penryth slid into his seat and picked up his
knife and fork as he glanced at his blushing nephew who was
studying his plate as if hoping it might lift up and reveal an
escape hatch. “Your Aunt Lily was attacked by your ex fiancé who
was under the influence of more than alcohol. A certain woman
persuaded him that cutting off my wife’s hair would somehow regain
him your affections.”

“What woman?”

William shot his uncle an unhappy look before
glancing at the young woman opposite and saying firmly. “I don’t
remember and even if I could it’s none of your business.”

“Well how do they know there was a woman
involved?”

“I don’t know.”

Grace turned to her Aunt Lily, “How do you
know there was a woman involved?”

Lily looked down the table with an expression
of dismay. “I don’t think…”

Penryth felt a sickening wave of guilt. He
was responsible for the whole situation. If he’d never met
Melisande; if he’d ignored her initial invitation to share her
company his wife would still have her glorious orange hair and
William would be moping, heartbroken with all his memories of
Grace’s rejection intact. “William was heard swearing by Lady
Gillingham that he’d cut all of my wife’s hair off. Taking the
lady’s previous actions into account I think we can assume she was
involved. Now let’s leave the subject in the gutter. I think we’ve
all been punished enough…”

Grace ignored Penryth and gawped at William.
“Lady Gillingham? You bed that condescending jade and then cut off
Aunt Lily’s hair? Are you mad?”

“I was drunk! What is your excuse for running
off with a man who leaves a trail of despoiled virgins behind him
like discarded wine bottles? Your mother was an idiot to think you
might become the next Countess of Morley. The man is a fiend.”

“Don’t you dare insult my Mamma; she’s too
dead to defend herself.”

“Whose fault is that? If you hadn’t run away
she’d still be alive and I could be eating my dinner without
wanting to vomit at the mental image of you in Morley’s bed.”

Grace jumped to her feet and leaned forward
as she screamed, “Nothing happened! And it’s not my fault…”

William followed suit by leaping up and
leaning towards her. “This whole stupid mess is your fault. You
broke my heart. You killed your mother…”

“I was nearly ran over by a mail coach you
heartless idiot.”

Penryth loudly cleared his throat. “William!
Have you forgotten how much you hate porridge?”

The younger man ignored him. “Uncle hasn’t
yet explained why he had to rescue you from being run over by the
mail coach. What were you doing; standing in the middle of the
yard? Staring at the stars? Was your mother trying to save you?
This whole incident is your fault. If it wasn’t for you I’d never
have bed my uncle’s mistress. It’s your fault I attacked Aunt Lily
with a penknife and nearly frightened her to death and it’s your
fault that I now have indigestion.”

Grace’s red face paled as she picked up her
full glass of wine and flung the thing at William’s head. The glass
flew past the intended target and fell with an ear splitting crash
several feet from the door. “I hate you! You attacked Aunt Lily and
cut off all her hair with a penknife? That’s a thousand times worse
than running off with Morley. You’re a heartless lunatic! I’m glad
I jilted you. You’d have killed me in my sleep.”

William calmly wiped his face on his sleeve.
“I’d rather be chained to a wall in Bedlam than chained to you.” He
picked up his glass and flung the dark red contents at the bodice
of her dress.

“You fiend, you’ve ruined my only dress! How
would you feel if you had one pair of boots and I used one as a
chamber pot?”

“I’d expect nothing less from a heartless
she-devil.”

Grace burst into tears. “You horrid beastly
man…I’ve been disowned today. No one loves me and I only have one
dress and you’ve ruined it.”

“At least I managed to hit the target I was
aiming for; you throw like a blind man.”

“When you speak you sound like
cow…mooooooooo. And every time I look at you all I see is your big
hairy nose.”

“I must have been mad to fall in love with
you. Thankfully Aunt Lily pushed me over and knocked all memory of
it out of my head, you’re heartless.”

“I have a heart!”