Larkrigg Fell (28 page)

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Authors: Freda Lightfoot

BOOK: Larkrigg Fell
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On Pietro’s afternoons off, they would often sit together high on the fellside alone, where the buzzards and curlew flew, where they could talk endlessly over their problem. She would allow him to caress and kiss her, within certain set boundaries. Boundaries which at times strained her to the limits of her endurance. And if sometimes the voice of conscience still pricked, she pushed it resolutely aside, for she saw her love for Pietro as inevitable. So long as they kept to these rules she was surely robbing Sarah of nothing. It was the nearest Beth had ever come to recklessness and while the old part of her was shocked, the new Beth revelled in this show of defiance.

Long, lazy moments of stolen ecstasy in secret hollows with no one to spy upon them but the solemn-eyed sheep became an essential part of her life. Far enough from both Broombank and Larkrigg, and no risk of Sarah finding them together as she was at work in Kendal. For these short periods Pietro belonged entirely to Beth, a wonderful compensation for all her hard work and sacrifice.

Sometimes, with his hands stroking her hair, or caressing her breasts she believed she might die of need for him. Then she would push him away and laugh, and he would sulk and complain that while both twins were content to love him, and who could blame them for was he not a god among men, neither one of them would agree to be his wife. ‘Why are you so stubborn? You refuse me everything. You do not love me, I think.’

‘Oh, but I do. I love you very much, Pietro. So much that I want you all to myself.’

‘Then why you not fight for me?’

Beth sighed. ‘Because Sarah is my sister, and for all our disagreements, I still love her. How can I agree to marry you, or even come to you, until we have solved this problem? I don’t want to hurt her. I feel guilty enough.’

It did not occur to Beth to ask why Pietro could not leave Sarah. She accepted, unquestioningly, that he loved them both. Sarah would grow bored and find another man. She always did.

‘Do you wish for me to go away?’ he would ask, and Beth would squeal with agony and say she couldn’t bear even to consider such a possibility. Then she’d have to let him kiss her again, just to prove she still loved him, putting off the moment of decision.

 

Pietro had begun to worry that he might have chosen the wrong twin, despite all his careful considerations. However fascinating and beautiful Sarah might be, she was completely self-centred and, to his great distress, not at all interested in marriage as a good Italian girl would be.

Somehow or other, he needed to compensate his family for their great loss all those years ago, to take revenge on their behalf. But if this plan did not succeed, then he must think of another. He knew not how or what, but Meg was the key. An independent lady who had much power over these twins.

He had imagined it would be easy, but these silly girls thwarted him at every turn. He must persuade Sarah to marry him. Otherwise, he would be forced to use his charms again upon the little Beth. He saw how appealing she was, how amenable and compliant. She might be too proper, too honourable for her own good, and certainly for his, yet the more she was forbidden to him, the more delectable she became.

If she brushed past him he could smell the sweet scent of her hair, burnished bright about the delicate oval of her face. He’d scarcely noticed before how the long dark lashes, so often drooped to fan her pink cheeks. If only his impatience had not got the better of him they might have been married by now. He would then be much closer to possessing his heart’s desire.

Perhaps it was not too late.

He sought any opportunity to be alone with her, to coax her to forgive him. And to his great delight she seemed confused and bewitched by his attentions, though he sensed a struggle with her conscience in every delightful tremor of her body.

Even when Sarah was around he took calculated risks. At weekends when they were all home, he’d freely offer to help Beth with the chores, seeking any opportunity to be alone with her.

He would put his arms about her, kiss her neck when she was washing up or cooking their evening meal. Capturing her in the wood shed and slipping his fingers inside her blouse to seek the bud of her breasts and excite her even more. Or hide behind the hen hut to leap out and gather her in his arms when she emerged from feeding and watering the birds.

To Beth it was a blissful, torturous nightmare. Pietro insisted he still loved her, that he’d been a blind fool. So contrite and humble was he, and she so entirely besotted by the wonder of this astonishing declaration, that how could she not believe his every word?

It was shocking, wonderful, irresistible and quite impossible. Beth lay sleepless through the achingly long hours of darkness, wondering how to find the strength to resist him. Yet how she would ever face her sister again if she did not?

 

She woke in some confusion. It was still dark but something had disturbed her. Was it a tree branch against her window? All her senses came alert and Beth became aware of Pietro standing by her bed. A moment later he was kneeling beside her, gently stroking her hair.

‘Did I wake you?’

‘It’s all right.’

‘You look like a child tucked up in bed.’

She gazed at him, a stream of light from the open door highlighting the sculptured lines of his high cheekbones. Her eyes begged him to go away, for if he stayed she could not resist him. ‘I’m not a child, Pietro, and you shouldn’t be here, in my room.’

He kissed her cheek, and the corners of her mouth, softly and seductively. and then her neck. His voice was blurred and sleepy, his breath smelling strongly of wine. ‘Do not scold me, little one. I am a mere male and you know that I love you. How can I lie in my cold room alone when my body tells me you are so close. I miss you. I need you. Let me stay. Let us make love together.’

His movements were swift and fluid as he unbuttoned her nightgown with urgent fingers, covering her in soft kisses all the while. Excitement rose hot and fierce in her breast and Beth wanted him to go on kissing her, wanted him so badly her body ached for his touch. His tongue pushed between her teeth, rasping against hers. Then he pulled her down beneath him in the bed, pushing her into the soft pillows with his own weight as he drew her thighs apart.

‘I want you for my wife, Beth. I have always wanted you. I mean to have you.’

She felt suddenly light-headed and terribly happy, and she moaned his name, delirious with need. But she knew it was wrong.

‘Please,’ she begged. ‘Don’t do this to me.’

Not that she wanted him to listen to her protests. She would die if he stopped now. All thought of Sarah was gone from her mind.

His mouth was somewhere about her breast, caressing and kissing her as he removed his own clothing. She could hardly bear to wait another second, but he seemed to feel it necessary to go on talking, persuading, soothing her, saying something about the three of them.

‘You have been to see the doctor, sì? Taken the necessary precautions this time?’

‘Yes, but this isn’t right… Sarah…’

Beth was pushing him from her, tears rolling down her cheeks. But it was too late. The fullness of him was inside of her, thrusting and pulsing, his body grinding against hers and everything vanished from her mind in a torrent of shameful sensation.

It was all over surprisingly quickly, a matter of seconds it seemed before he reached a shuddering climax and shouted something out loud in Italian. She had never meant this to happen. But it had, and she ached with guilt and humiliation. There’d been little pleasure in it, so hurried and furtive had it been. She should never have allowed him into her bed. She daren’t even imagine how Sarah would react if she ever discovered what had taken place.

However Sarah might betray others was considered permissible. For it to happen to her was not even to be contemplated. Beth groaned in agony. Her sister might speak of being a free spirit, of Pietro loving them both, but in reality she would tear Beth limb from limb, pluck out her eyes and feed her to the birds if the truth came out.

And it would be no more than she deserved.

Yet however exasperating and selfish Sarah was, she was still her twin and Beth knew she should not have hurt her in such a deeply intimate way. It was a terrible betrayal for which she should be punished. It must never be allowed to happen again.

‘Go,’ she told him. Go now.’

‘What you say?’

‘I said go. Get out!’

Her voice had risen dangerously close to a scream, and, at last, recognising that she was serious, he flung himself off her. Then he gathered up his clothes and swearing comprehensively and unintelligibly in fluent Italian, strode from the room.

Beth collapsed in a storm of tears.

 

‘May I come and live with you?’ Beth gazed with pleading eyes at Ellen as she helped her feed the squirrels. Spring was always her busy time with a new crop of fledgling orphans to take care of. The older woman didn’t answer immediately, didn’t even glance at her.

‘I could help with the animals and I’d pay for my keep.’

‘I raised these two nippers myself, started with warm milk and sugared water, now they’re on full squirrel diet of peanuts and all the acorns I can root out for them. Their mother died as a result of acting as decoy to save them from a dog. Lost her life in saving theirs.’

‘How dreadful.’

‘It’s what mothers do.’

‘I suppose so. Sisters are rather different.’

Ellen chuckled. ‘I reckon they are. Not getting on any better then?’

‘Not much.’

Then after another long pause. ‘There’s a small bed in the spare room. You’re welcome to that but it has no bedding.’

‘I could bring some sheets and blankets from Larkrigg. And I’ll pull my weight around the place. I won’t be a nuisance.’ Relief, and a valiant attempt to be cheerful about an impossible situation.

Ellen sniffed. ‘You’d better not be. I’ve enough lame ducks about the place already.’

That afternoon Beth swept out the one other bedroom in Rowan cottage, made up the old iron bedstead with clean sheets and prepared to face Sarah.
 

In the event it proved remarkably simple. Over a carefully cooked chicken dinner, Beth explained her decision to leave.

‘It’s only for a little while. Ellen hasn’t been too well lately,’ she lied, crossing her fingers beneath the table. ‘And she has a new influx of patients. Only yesterday she took in two squirrels, a stoat and a clutch of baby wagtails.’ Mustn’t overdo it, Beth warned herself. ‘I’ll stay with her till she feels more herself.’

Sarah thought her mad of course, and said as much, but put it down to Beth’s foolish obsession with animals. ‘How am I supposed to manage here? I can’t look after this place on my own. It’s your pet project, remember.’

Beth promised faithfully that she would continue to do her bit with the smallholding at Larkrigg. Pietro sat scowling, but making no comment.

The next day she moved in to Rowan cottage and felt a huge sense of relief. Here she would be free from temptation, free from the nightly horror of hearing Sarah’s throaty laughter mingling with Pietro’s deeply caressing and much loved voice.

And free from the daily temptation of falling into his arms.

 

Chapter Sixteen

Hard work was Beth’s refuge, for there were still those oh-so-painful moments when she couldn’t rid her mind of the picture of the two of them together: her sister and the man she loved. But when work failed her, she was glad to escape to the hills, alone or with Andrew, anywhere to avoid the torment of her own thoughts or the sight of the two lovers.

They were sitting on a tree stump at the edge of the wood eating sandwiches, having spent the morning walking the fells to check on the sheep and this season’s crop of lambs, now fat and harassing the life out of their mothers. From deep in the dale came the whirr of machinery on the sultry air as the harvesting had begun at Broombank, but up here all was peace and quiet, except for the drone of bees in the sweet scented heather.

He was good company, never seemed to mind her tagging along, almost welcomed it. Since the day he’d found her in the snow their friendship had grown steadily, though he had never again repeated his offer of marriage for which she was most grateful. She was sure he’d only asked her out of pity, because they were both hurting at the time. And it wouldn’t have worked. Beth couldn’t imagine any sort of romance between them.

But he was still obsessed with Pietro. ‘Even when she steals your fella you do nothing. I am right, aren’t I? She did take Pietro because you wanted him?’

‘Because she needed a man.’

‘And what Sarah wants, Sarah gets, eh?’

‘I had my chance. I asked him to wait and he couldn’t, not then. He thought I didn’t truly care for him.’ If there hadn’t been the accident, if I hadn’t made him wait, we’d be married by now, she thought.
 

‘So how come you still moon over him? Have you no pride?’

Beth flinched at the harsh words. Why was he being so disagreeable? ‘I don’t moon over him.’ Oh, but she did, couldn’t seem to help herself. Why couldn’t Andrew understand how she felt? Wasn’t he still agonising over the loss of Tessa?
 

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