Parthena's Promise (5 page)

Chapter 6

They stood in silence, waiting for the last two pails of hot water to be poured into the tub. A rough piece of soap was placed on a tray on the floorboards and a cloth for her to dry herself with, but no simple chemise was left for her to bathe in. He passed the girl and boy a coin each, which they heartily thanked him for and closed the door after them. Thena swallowed as he then turned and looked at her. “Your bath awaits.” He gestured with his hand that she should go over to it.

It was positioned in front of the small open fire, which had been lit so that the room was relatively warm. The logs crackled as they burned slowly in the grate. The tin bath had a higher back than front. Jerome picked up the only chair in the room and placed it back to back with the bath. Only a yard separated the chair and the tub; even though they faced the opposite directions, it offered little privacy or comfort to Thena who was in no doubt what he expected her to do. Jerome then took hold of her bag and placed it on the floor in front of the chair.

“Miss Munro, my attention will be taken with that.” He pointed to her bag. “You will take off your attire, for it needs cleaning also, and climb into the water whilst it is still warm. Then as you wash yourself you can tell me your sorry tale and, please, do not think to embellish it with falsehoods or this will be the last wash you will be able to have in any sense of relative privacy for some years to come. Gaols offer few creature comforts and inmates are monitored and watched over.”

He stared at her for what seemed like an age to Thena.

Thena faced him; he did not look away. His words made her shiver. She was appalled at the description of the life of a convicted felon that he portrayed. Yet, she could not take it as an idle threat. She had heard of people going into the workhouse and being treated like animals, almost dunked like sheep. But what did she know of such things? Her cousin had said some awful things to her in order to gain her agreement to set off on her perilous journey – alone, with the only comfort being she had a letter, a reference and a guarantee of respectable employment at the other end of her journey. What a trusting fool she had been. Now look at her plight!

“You think I am going to strip down to my chemise… here, and see to my ablutions with you still in the room? You are mistaken, sir!” she said, her voice wavering slightly. “You may think I am of low morals but I am not. I am a lady!”

He sighed, walked across the threadbare carpet to her and pulled the ribbon of her bonnet, releasing it, and tossed it onto the bed. “I do not think what you are going to do for I know it. I am clean and you are not. You will correct that as I listen to your story and you show some trust in me, as I have absolutely no reason to trust you at all.” He sat on the chair, looking down and opened her bag.

“You intend to rifle through my things?” she gasped. She fought the words he said in her mind, knowing there was little she could do to resist if he insisted.

“Yes. I intend to review all the evidence before me. Now take your clothes off and leave them in a pile and plunge in or I will remove more than your bonnet myself. Do not think for one moment a woman’s screams or squeals in such a place as this would get anything more than curious glances up the stairs to add to the bored souls’ mirth.”

“You are no gentleman!” she snapped, and slowly removed her pelisse.

“Good, as you are definitely not a lady, I am not sure how you would know,” he said and looked at her. “Continue to remove every stitch. You smell, you have been on the road too long and I can see in your eyes how inviting that water is, so please carry on.” He then looked back to the bag.

Thena had too much pride to accept the situation, yet not enough courage to deny him and face the consequences. Every word he had spoken was true. She stood at the opposite end of the tub. Her eyes were firmly focused on his back lest he should turn around. Quickly as she could, she slipped out of her garments and into the welcoming water and felt it caress her body as she slid under its spell. She was stiff from the long coach journey to return to this county, then all her walking and seeking answers as to where her new employer was, and then trying to find alternative employment. All that had been hard enough, but then she had met Mr Jerome Fender, stolen his money and embarked upon the cold lonely trek across the moor to end up sleeping on a bed which, although welcome, had been as hard as nails. Closing her eyes, she let her head dip under the water level so that the roots of her hair could be massaged by her fingers as she cleaned it. When she sat up, trying to keep as low to the water level with her knees tucked up to her naked breasts, she begun to soap herself when she heard him speak. For one fleeting second she had started to enjoy the bath and had forgotten he was there.

“Now, Miss Parthena Munro, begin talking, and I would know the exact truth, no embellishment and no untruths.”

*

Jerome was soon sure that her bag held few secrets. She had a letter of introduction written for her by her cousin, apparently, thanking Mr Bartholomew Squires for offering Miss “Parthena” Munro a place as governess to his two sons. It seemed genuine and would have sufficed along with the reference from a Reverend Dilworth stating her good character and her family’s pedigree. She was obviously well connected, yet this had not stopped her being turned out by this cousin, Mr Bertram Munro, he guessed. It was not an uncommon situation for a single young woman to find herself in. Parthena’s future was dependent upon the goodwill of her male relations to look after her, arrange for an introduction to a prospective husband or find her a position, such as that of governess. If what she was telling him was true, this cousin had sent a young woman, unchaperoned, to a house where the people had apparently moved on from before he even wrote the letter. He began to understand how desperate she must have been. He had glanced to his left when he heard her step into the tub. The looking glass above the table in the corner of the room offered him an unexpected and very pleasant view as she had gracefully entered the water. Jerome was mesmerised, the sight of her beautiful firm breasts stirring his deepest desires. His hand tightened on the handle of the bag when she had turned her back ready to slide down into the water. Her exquisite lean body slowly captivated his vision, the curve of her buttocks as they disappeared from view had made him breathe slowly and deeply. Jerome’s mind told him what he should be doing, but a very different part of his anatomy was telling him what he wanted to do.

Thena’s hair was the only part of her visible – the colour of a cornfield. He stared back at the bag in front of him, closed it and controlled his breathing, thoughts, and repeated the word “Thief” in his mind to dampen any desire he had for this woman… It was not only her eyes that were captivating; he now had seen more of her that literally took his breath away. He shook his head; an experienced soldier had returned to his country to become an incurable romantic. This would never do. Her words began to drift over him, but she had given him a story that was backed up by the letters he had read. But then she would have to be a complete fool to tell him a tale that was at odds with them. However, even the small detail added up so he had no reason to disbelieve her. It all tallied with what the blacksmith had said, the mill man, and what she had said at the convent.

“Did you honestly think that you could get away with robbing a total stranger?” he asked, his voice slightly husky.

“I just did not think. I just did not know what else I could do. If I asked for charity, with all the men returned from the war, I would have been laughed at, or worse. They were not going to offer me help; they would have offered me warmth for a night.”

“I did,” he said. “I said nothing other than I would help you,” he added.

“I thought you too were offering me something that I could not accept,” she said quietly. “I had sunk low, but not so…”

“What was that then?” he asked.

“I thought you would want to give a bed for the night as payment for…” she could not find the words. Aware of the water cooling and her nakedness, she stood up and stepped out, wrapping the piece of towel around her body and dabbing herself dry by the fire.

Jerome had looked at the looking glass and watched her, but quickly turned his head away again as he took no joy from her knowing he had seen her in the flesh, although he could think of many a way that he could find joy with her, for both of them, if she were willing. The thought warmed his heart.

Thena asked him to throw her clean chemise from her bag, and a dress. She watched as he produced the chemise, but was horrified when he walked over to her and handed it to her personally.

“The dress… you forgot it… I have a day dress I can change into.” She pointed to her bag. “You must have seen it.”

“Wear that and slip under the covers of the bed and warm up properly.” He flipped back the bed cover.

“Do you intend to rape me now – is that it?” Her eyes were wide with fear, but as he stepped right up to her, with only a thin fabric between him and her body, she was feeling more than fear. He placed one finger under her chin, tilted it up so that her lips were almost touching his as he leaned down to her. She could feel his warmth, smell his musk and sense his desire. He kissed her ever so tenderly, his lips lightly brushing hers.

With the fire warming her back and him warming her heart, she was confused, but before she could turn away he suddenly stepped back and smiled at her. “Do not flatter yourself, Miss Munro.”

She had to turn away, ashamed.

“I have business to attend to. You will stay here and await my return. To venture downstairs would be a big mistake.”

Thena glanced over her shoulder; she doubted she could feel more shamed than he had already succeeded in making her. It was all her own fault, Thena blamed only herself – well, she blamed her cousin first, but her actions of late had been of her own making. She watched as he picked up her bag and headed for the door.

“You can’t take that!” Fear crept up her spine at the thought his repayment for her dishonesty might be to desert her there, leave her penniless and near enough naked in such a place. Did he seek her total ruination?

He bent down and collected the dress she had taken off as well. “Yes, I can. I intend to for your own good.”

“But what am I to wear?” Panic threatened to overwhelm her. Her legs trembled as tears welled up inside her.

“The chemise, I told you. Now slip into bed and do not venture outside of the room. You would definitely not get far in here dressed like that. I will be back shortly.”

“Will you?” the words slipped out of her mouth as a desperate plea and he paused. Her question hung in the air and momentarily he did not answer her. A tear escaped her and trickled down her cheek.

“You will have to learn to trust me, as I did you.” He could not look her in the eye, and left.

*

Jerome did not intend to go far away at all. He could not risk Thena running again or her being discovered. She was a soul who needed saving, but she was also desperate and that desperation had already led her to commit an act of great folly. Fortunately it had been against him and not just any returning soldier. He asked the girl, Sally, if the laundry she mentioned could clean Miss Munro’s dress and undergarments. He then booked the room for a further night.

“Food for the young, miss?” the serving woman asked, as she held forward a pewter plate on which something resembling stewed pork and turnip had been poured. It looked warm, not enticing, but it was sustenance after all.

“Thank you.” He took it. For a moment Jerome stood there holding her bag in one hand and the plate of food in the other. He shook his head and carried both back up the stairs. He had intended to teach her a lesson, but those beautiful eyes had moistened and, despite her brave efforts, she had cried. He could not do it. Whatever wrong she had done him, another wrong added did not make his actions right. Instead he returned to her, rather than let her fear any more.

He dropped the bag to open the door. As it opened wide, Miss Munro stood with a blanket wrapped around her. He could not but admire her. She was beautiful; she would have been a total waste as a mill-worker or even as a governess.

“This is for you.” He pushed the bag inside the room with his foot and placed the plate on the small table at the side of the window. Then he dragged the tub onto the landing where it could be seen to without them being disturbed further. Before stepping back into the room he slipped downstairs, returning with a bottle of wine and two glasses. It was time for them to talk honestly and for him to help her.

Jerome found her checking her bag. She had slipped her day dress on, an ice blue muslin gown that complemented her eyes and her fair hair. That hair hung loose over her shoulders, still slightly damp, but as it dried the blonde wisps only added to the ethereal impression of the faerie he had first seen in the night.

“You are quite beautiful, Miss Munro,” he said, and placed the wine and the glasses down on the table also.

“I don’t know what you want of me, or to do with me, but please let us be honest with each other, as flattery will not soften the blow. Just state what terms you are offering me, if any, for the wrong I have done you to be righted. I know you could have me hanged for I am guilty and I have no defence I can make that will stand in law.” She was holding her hands in front of her, turning one anxiously with the other as if to steady them. They were shaking and he saw in that moment how truly scared she was of him, of her plight and of her own stupidity. It was then Jerome knew what he wanted for her and him, but how to win it without her feeling obligated or in fear of him? He had never threatened a woman, and he had no intention of starting now, but she had to truly understand the gravity of what she had done.