Briar Patch (14 page)

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Authors: Linda Sole

BOOK: Briar Patch
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‘I dare say I might invite Julia and Philip – and Mama, of course. There is no one else I particularly wish to see.'
‘I enjoy good company and entertaining. I want you to give a dinner party next week. Since you have no particular friends, I shall provide you with a list of people to invite.'
‘I shall do my best to please you and your friends, Harry. I am perfectly willing to receive guests whenever you wish.'
‘I didn't buy you all those expensive clothes to leave them in the closet. We shall entertain and visit our friends, and we may go to London for a week or two. With any luck we shall be invited to a few weekends in the country. I may hold a shooting party here later in the year.'
‘Of course. Papa enjoyed hunting and shooting. We often had house parties in the autumn and winter.'
‘Your mama would have a list of his friends, I dare say. I intend to mix with the best, Roz, and you can help me if you try. Your father's name still counts for something despite the scandal.'
‘Is that why you married me? Because you had ambitions to move up in society?' She'd thought he loved her but if he cared he would surely have forgiven her by now.
He took a step towards her, anger in his eyes as he towered over her.
‘You know damned well why I married you, Roz, but since you turned out to be frigid I might as well take what I can from this sham marriage.'
‘You are the one who makes the rules, Harry. I have not locked my door against you. If you wish to come to my bed I shall not turn you away.'
‘You'll just lie there like a martyr being condemned to the stake,' he said in a bitter tone. ‘I'll not beg for favours, Roz. In Paris there were plenty of ladies willing to oblige me – and I dare say there are one or two in Wisbech who might welcome the chance to have a gentleman caller.'
Roz turned away and sat down at her dressing table, picking up her hairbrush. In Paris he'd stayed out late most nights. She'd known he was gambling recklessly at the tables because Madeline had told her, but it seemed he was lucky at cards and he'd won more than he'd lost. She hadn't known that he'd been with other women and she'd hoped he might think better of his decision and give her another chance to be the wife he claimed to want.
She was aware of him standing there staring at her as she started to brush her hair, then he turned, walked back into his own room and slammed the door.
Roz shivered and her eyes filled with tears. Money, beautiful clothes and a comfortable house were nothing without at least respect and liking. She'd thought her marriage would be so different, believing that she could find happiness in her children. Now all she felt was humiliation and despair.
How could she bear to live this way? Most nights Harry didn't even come into her room to say goodnight. In public he was the considerate husband, laughing and paying her compliments, but as soon as they were alone he withdrew. He called her frigid but he was like ice, refusing to listen to her or accept that she was genuinely sorry for what she'd done and for not being able to love him the way he had loved her. At first she'd wept and begged him to forgive her, but now she held back her tears until after he left her.
‘I thought we might change the menus, Mrs Martin,' Roz said the next morning when she visited the kitchens. ‘We hardly need seven breakfast dishes. I believe four should be sufficient, unless we have guests.'
‘If you're certain, ma'am,' the housekeeper said and looked doubtful. ‘Mr Rushden has always liked a varied choice at every meal.'
‘Four dishes is sufficient at breakfast, and I've written down a list of dishes for this week. Next week we shall have guests and then we shall need more choices but for two of us it seems a waste. Most of it was untouched this morning.'
‘Yes, ma'am. If you say so.'
Roz walked about the kitchen, inspecting various objects and then nodded to the cook.
‘Everything is very clean. You are to be congratulated.' She turned to Mrs Martin again. ‘I shall require a fire in the small back parlour in the mornings, but you need not light the fire in the drawing room until just before tea.'
Most of the reception rooms were in Roz's opinion overlarge for private use. She had decided on the small back parlour because it looked out on to a pretty little walled garden and she enjoyed the view. The French windows opened out on to a paved area and when opened on a warm day let in the fragrance of roses.
Having written some letters of invitation to Harry's friends she decided to go for a little walk about the grounds and returned with a basket of leaves and flowers in time to wash her hands before going into the dining parlour for lunch. Harry was standing at the sideboard examining the dishes set out for their meal. He turned and frowned as he saw her enter.
‘Where have you been? One thing I expect from you, Roz, is punctuality. I'm sorry luncheon is so mean today. You must have a word with Mrs Martin and tell her this just will not do.'
Roz looked and saw there was a selection of roast beef, cold chicken and ham; also mashed potatoes, vegetables and pickles.
‘What more could you wish for, Harry? I told Mrs Martin that we did not need so much food. Half of the breakfast dishes were wasted this morning . . .' She saw the cold glitter in his eyes and faltered. ‘Why are you annoyed?'
‘Must I do everything myself? If you have no idea of what is proper in a gentleman's house I shall tell Mrs Martin to come to me before making changes.'
‘You wouldn't humiliate me in my own home? I am the mistress here. I must be allowed to order my household.'
‘Then show me you know how to behave. I do not need to economize and I will not allow you to make me look mean. The food that we don't eat is eaten by the servants or given away to the poor. For goodness' sake, Roz, anyone would think we were paupers.'
‘I was merely trying to be a thrifty housekeeper.'
‘Then don't interfere. Mrs Martin knows what I like. You are here to look pretty and entertain our guests when they call. Please leave the arrangements to those who understand them.'
‘Just as you wish.' She controlled her feelings behind a mask of indifference. As Harry finished filling his plate she helped herself to some chicken and a little potato.
‘Is that all you're having?' Harry glared at her. ‘You will become too thin and lose your looks if you refuse to eat properly.'
‘I never eat a great deal at luncheon.'
‘No, you prefer to sit brooding like a ghost at the feast. I hope you are going to show a little more animation when our guests visit. Madeline asked me twice in Paris if you were ill.'
‘I am perfectly well, Harry.'
‘Then eat something. Damn you, Roz. That face is enough to put a man off his food.'
‘Then I shall leave you to enjoy your lunch, Harry.' She pushed her chair back and got to her feet but he was at the door before her. He caught hold of her arm, forcing her back to the table. ‘Please let me go. I'm not hungry.'
‘Sit there and eat something,' he muttered, pushing her into the chair. ‘For goodness' sake, Roz. Surely you can hold a conversation and eat your meal?'
‘Very well. What would you like to talk about?'
‘Tell me what you did this morning.'
‘I went for a walk and picked some flowers for the house. Don't frown at me. Before I picked the roses, I asked the gardener which blooms were for use in the house.'
Harry forked a piece of rare beef and put it in his mouth. Roz cut a tiny piece of chicken. It tasted like sawdust and she chewed it for a long time before swallowing.
‘At least you used your head for once. It would be a shame to spoil the symmetry of the gardens and we want them to look at their best for our guests. We'll give a dinner and the younger ones can dance in the gallery if they wish, but there will be cards set up in the back parlour for the gentlemen.'
‘Couldn't you use one of the other reception rooms? I like that parlour, Harry. It will smell of cigar smoke in the mornings if the gentlemen sit at cards all night.'
‘That is why I thought we'd keep to the back parlour and leave the best rooms to you ladies.' Harry finished his food and got up to replenish his plate. ‘I suppose we could use the library if you prefer.'
‘Would you mind? I've taken one or two of my own things to that parlour because I admire the view.'
‘Well, have it if you want. After all, it's your home.'
‘Thank you.' Roz forced a smile as a maid came in to ask if she wanted the sweet course brought in. ‘Not yet, Iris. I'll ring for you if Mr Rushden wants anything more.'
Harry sipped his wine and looked thoughtful. ‘It's better without the maids about when there's just the two of us. I suppose that was another of your suggestions?'
‘I hate being hovered over when I'm eating. I thought you liked serving yourself at the hotel?'
‘Yes, I do prefer it, but only when we're alone. I want to keep up a certain style when we have guests, Roz.'
‘Yes, I think I understand that.'
‘You will speak to Mrs Martin, then?'
‘Yes, of course. Thank you.'
He hesitated, then: ‘I have no wish to humiliate you – but think before you change things in future and ask me if you're not sure.'
‘Yes, Harry. Shall I ring for Iris?'
‘No, I'll have another glass of wine.' He refilled his glass and tried to pour her some but she put her hand over her glass. ‘No? Suit yourself. What are you going to do this afternoon?'
‘I thought I might read or do some embroidery.'
‘Don't you want to visit friends?'
‘Not really.'
‘You should ride over to see Julia.'
‘Yes, perhaps I should.' Roz stood up. ‘Will you excuse me.'
‘For goodness' sake, Roz. You're not a child and I'm not your mother.'
Roz walked from the room. Tears pricked her eyes but she refused to let them fall. One minute Harry spoke to her as if she were a fool and countermanded her orders, the next he was accusing her of acting like a child. What did he want from her – or had she committed such a vile sin that he needed to punish her all the time?
‘I've been hoping you would ride over,' Julia said and kissed her cheek. ‘Philip said I shouldn't intrude because you needed time to settle into your new home, but if you hadn't come I should have ordered the carriage and visited you tomorrow.'
‘You look content, Julia. I think you must be happy in your marriage.'
‘Yes, of course. I always knew that Philip didn't love me, but he is considerate and does not interfere with the way I do things. I never expected more and when I have children I shall have all I need.'
‘I am so pleased for you,' Roz replied and glanced around the parlour. Julia had rearranged the furniture, bringing in things she liked from other rooms. ‘You have made this parlour your own. I think it looks much nicer – more comfortable.'
‘I am not sure Mama thinks as you do.' Julia smiled. ‘She notices each change. However, she is trying to be diplomatic and pretends to like what I've done. I'm having new drapes made for all the best rooms.'
‘I think several of the rooms need refurbishment,' Roz said and sighed. ‘Harry has had everything done at the Towers. I have little to do with my time. He says all he asks of me is to entertain our guests and look attractive.'
‘He intends to spoil you because he loves you,' Julia said. ‘You are fortunate in that way, Roz – but when you have children your time will just evaporate.' She placed her hands on her stomach and then leaned towards Roz, lowering her voice. ‘Philip wanted to be sure before he told anyone, but I shall tell you that I believe I am carrying his child.'
‘Julia! That is wonderful,' Roz said and moved closer, taking her hands and then kissing her cheek. ‘I am very happy for you.'
‘Perhaps it will happen for you soon.'
‘Yes, perhaps.' Roz turned away and sat down on the little sofa as one of the maids brought in the tea tray. She waited until the girl had gone before adding, ‘We are to have visitors staying next week. Some friends Harry met in Paris and others. We are giving a dinner for our neighbours to start things off. I do hope you and Philip will come?'
‘Yes, of course. I shall enjoy that, Roz. We shall be having a dinner for friends ourselves soon. I will send an invitation for both of you, and any guests you have staying with you.'
‘Thank you. I am sure Harry will be pleased to accept.'
Something in her tone alerted Julia. ‘Is anything wrong? You don't seem quite yourself.'
‘I am perfectly well. I suppose . . . everything happened so quickly. It isn't much more than a year since Father died and then Philip married you and I married Harry. Nothing is the same.'
‘It feels strange coming back here as a guest, I dare say?'
‘Oh no, I'm happy to see you as the mistress here. You mustn't think I resent you, Julia, because I don't. I can't explain.'
Julia was silent for a moment, then: ‘If you ever need a friend, Roz, I shall always be here for you.'
‘Thank you.' Roz hesitated, tempted to confide at least part of her problem. Then, before she could continue, her brother walked in. ‘Good afternoon, Philip. How are you?'
‘Busy. I've hardly stopped since we returned.' He bent and kissed his wife's cheek. ‘What has my sister been saying to you, my love?'
‘She came to invite us to dinner next week,' Julia replied. ‘Will you have some tea with us, Philip? I can send for a fresh pot if you wish?'

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