The Hired Wife (12 page)

“Get your
stinking tongue away from my wife, she’s already ill.”

The long tongue
slid back into its sneering cavern. “I think you’ve bought yourself
a treasure. If she wasn’t already taken…”

“Touch my wife
and I’ll kill you.”

“Harsh words
Marshall…you wound me. I shall have to settle with stealing you
away from your bride for some shooting tomorrow. Do say you’ll
come; I’m dying of boredom.” Morley leaned closer and sniffed
Mary’s hair causing her to cringe again. “Your wife smells
divine.”

“Take your nose
away before I flatten it.”

“Come to think
of it I am expected for a game of chance. Alyce has expressed a
desire to fleece my pockets and I daren’t disappoint her. May your
evening be as pleasurable as mine…I take my leave; Lady Mary,
Marshall.” Morley proffered a flowery bow and followed the servant
carrying away the first tray with a puzzled expression. The door
softly closed leaving the two sighing in relief.

“Henry becomes
more annoying by the hour. I wish he’d take his boredom and go
shoot his own birds.”

“He frightens
me…”

“There’s no
need to be afraid. Henry’s a heartless rakehell, not a
cutthroat.”

“He makes me
feel like taunted prey.”

“Henry’s just
jealous that you’ve taken over his one useful occupation as my
ears. We only have to endure his company for two weeks. Once
Emily’s married Buckingham and Alyce’s moves in with her sister
I’ll have nothing to distract me from winning your heart. Your wish
will be my command. Though I must admit the way my heart is aching,
I fear I’d find it difficult to deny you anything tonight.”

Mary smiled and
bashfully toyed with one of his coat buttons, “Would you recite me
a poem?”

Marshall’s eyes
lit up, “A poem for Merry? It shall be Donne.

Stay, O sweet
and do not rise!

The light that
shines comes from thine eyes;

The day breaks
not: it is my heart,

Because that
you and I must part.

Stay! or else
my joys will die

And perish in their infancy.
’

Mary stifled
the mad desire to stay the night in his arms and sighed with
pleasure as her husband took advantage of her raised head to woo
her with more kisses.

Hazy morning
light outlined the slender woman tucked into the window seat with
her lace pillow, the bobbins clacking as she settled into a
comfortable position. Marshall’s chest ached with pleasure as she
glanced at him from under honey coloured lashes. He slid onto the
seat and put his lips to her cheek. “Wordsworth wrote a sickly poem
whose ending you give meaning.

A perfect
Woman, nobly planned,

To warm, to
comfort, and command,

And yet a
spirit still, and bright.

You are the
perfect woman!”

“Why is the
perfect woman planned to command? Wordsworth sounds like a
bore.”

“He is, but
when I return this afternoon I shall command you to kiss me or
endure a recitation of the entire poem.”

“You don’t have
to threaten me with torture to receive a kiss.”

“What if I want
two kisses?”

“I’m sure you
can come up with some sort of lure…”

“Hmmm…you mean
something like this?” He produced a small plate with three
miniature iced cakes from behind his back and held them out.
Buckingham had them made for Emily. She won’t miss them, there were
at least a hundred.”

“Oh Mr
Godfrey…there’s no better way to tempt a mermaid out of the water;
I’ll eat them and think how much I enjoy dry land…and your
kisses.”

“Speaking of
kisses, one more and then I must be…” Ten minutes later Marshall
reluctantly detached his lips with a dazed smile. “Now remember
what I said last night Wife. You are to do nothing today but relax,
sleep, eat and kiss me. If I return to find you’ve reorganised my
trunks or helped out in the kitchen you’ll be sorely punished and
don’t give me that innocent look. I know how you are, Perfect
Woman.”

“I’m not
perfect.”

“I can’t hear
you.” Marshall jumped off the window seat and gave his laughing
wife an elegant bow before humming out of the room and down the
hall.

…

Two excited
pointers wagged their tails as they sniffed their way down the well
worn path towards the lake followed by Marshall, Morley and a
gamekeeper, guns weighing down their arms. Marshall took a deep
contented breath as he pondered the increasing probability of
winning his wife’s heart. The thought of being the possessor of
such a treasure made him smile and his body ache with longing.

“Marshall, you
need to do something about that stupid dazed expression, it makes
you look like a silly school boy.”

“What?”

“You’re smiling
like a silly school boy.”

Marshall
blushed, “Am I? I feel like a school boy. Merry’s perfect…”

“It’s about
time you bed a woman. She must be experienced to put that smile on
your face.”

“Merry hasn’t
even kissed another man. We haven’t…I mean, I didn’t marry her for
sex Henry. I hired her to be a temporary châtelaine. I was going to
sue for annulment at the end of the year, but I’ve changed my mind.
If she falls in love with me I’ll have a proper wife. She needs
time to know how she feels. I don’t know if I can bear to wait
three months, but when she looks at me I feel like I’ve inherited
the Orient.”

“How
bourgeoisie.”

“Are you
sneering at my good fortune or your lack of it?”

Morley stopped
and shook his head in exaggerated despair, “Being loved by one’s
wife is not comme il faut Marshall. My wife will wed me for my
money and I shall wed her for her shapely contours, pretty face and
ability to breed. It’s a social contract that benefits both
parties. She’ll give me a legal heir and I’ll shower her with the
trappings of wealth and position. We’ll both get what we want.”

“Don’t be
surprised when your purchased pedigree breeder takes a lover and
saddles you with a bastard heir before giving you congé.”

“If my wife
dares lift her skirts for another man she’ll die in an unfortunate
accident along with any uncertain offspring.”

“You’d murder
your wife?”

“Of course not
Marshall; she’ll fall down the stairs or die in a carriage
accident. The wrong kind of mushrooms stuffed in a chicken breast
drank with a glass of wine would accomplish the end nicely.”

“You wouldn’t
really kill a wife and innocent babes, would you?”

“Why should I
allow some other man’s bastard to inherit my name and money?
Cuckolds who endure the insult aren’t worth the air they
breathe.”

Marshall felt a
cold chill in his stomach, “There’s nothing amusing about killing
women and children. You shouldn’t joke about such things
Henry.”

“No I don’t
suppose I should… What? You don’t think I’d really kill a wife and
her offspring on the chance she shared her favours do you? You’ve
spent too much time reading poetry Marshall. So the good Lady
Raynham is winding you around one of her bobbins is she? Be careful
she doesn’t make lace out of your heart strings.”

“What is that
supposed to mean? Merry isn’t some money hungry debutante.”

“No, she’s
merely a hungry vicar’s daughter who’d do anything for food.”

“My wife is a
good woman. You should be careful your cynical heartstrings don’t
wrap around your throat and choke you in your sleep.”

“Temper,
temper…there’s no reason to rail at me Marshall. I’m merely voicing
concerns for your well-being.”

“Sometimes I
want to hit you, just to remove that stupid smug expression.”

“Violence is so
mindless, almost as mindless as expecting a caged bird not to sing
for her supper. How will you ever know that your merry wife really
loves you and not her three meals a day if you don’t first set her
free? Now if you set her free and she still returns to your cage
then you’ll know it’s you she wants and not your food.”

Marshall’s
heart slumped, “I’m not going to annul my marriage and then beg my
wife to remarry me.”

“Where is your
vision? Buy her a house, put it in her name and give her an
annuity. Make her financially independent and give your courtship a
true handicap.”

“My courtship
is already handicapped…I’m hard of hearing.”

“Yes and your
merry wife will wisely choose to remain married to a boring brute
rather than starve.” Morley stopped and fumbled through his
pockets, “Oh blast, I’ve forgotten my good luck coin. I can’t kill
anything without my coin. Wait here for me.”

“Hurry up;
you’re the one dying to shoot all the birds.”

As Marshall
watched Henry run back up the hill, the chill in his stomach
started producing ice crystals. Henry couldn’t kill a woman and
innocent babe, could he? Henry was a cynic not a criminal and his
hypothesis of setting Merry financially free made a good deal of
painful sense. If she had her own house, if she had financial
freedom; her heart would be able to freely decide her fate. If she
chose to remain his wife he wouldn’t have to wonder if she loved
him or her gilded cage, but the thought of going a whole day
without seeing her made him deeply melancholic. The thought of
having to wait in hateful silence in-between visits was too
hateful. No, he’d wait and see what she said after three months. If
she said she couldn’t love him he’d buy her a house near his own so
he could see her every day…she couldn’t be displeased with that.
Given time maybe he’d persuade her…

…

Mary’s lace
bobbins hung forgotten as she stared out the window as her thoughts
continuously repeated her husband’s morning visit. She allowed
herself to remember his kisses, but didn’t dare examine the
feelings clamouring for immediate resolution. Three weeks of
abundant kindness could not possibly be long enough to ascertain
her true feelings, but what did it mean to fall in love? Was love a
special feeling for one person or was it a promise to adore one
special person? Her thoughts kept returning to being held tightly
in her husband’s arms. Could there be any other place in the world
where she’d feel as safe or happy? Footsteps stopped outside her
door causing her heart to dance with pleasure. He hadn’t gone. He’d
kiss her again and look at her with those sapphire eyes that made
her melt. The door quietly opened and her lungs ached for air as
Lord Morley closed the door behind him and sauntered over to her
window seat as if he’d been invited. “Ah the magical Lady Mary
sitting all alone unprotected day dreaming of being kissed…”

“Where’s
Marshall?”

Morley sat down
on the edge of the window seat, “He’s conveniently out of the way
down by the lake. I was hoping for an opportunity to get to know
you intimately…” She cringed as he leant closer to sniff her face.
“You smell utterly delicious; eau de fear, my favourite.”

“What do you
want?”

“You must know
how you affect me. Every time I see you I feel like I’m going to
burst with need…”

His light
caress on her throat made Mary wince in disgust. “Don’t touch me!
Leave…”

“You don’t want
me to leave. You want me to tell you that since the moment we met
I’ve wanted to make love to you. Marshall’s right, there’s
something magical about you. It’s a pity you’re not a little
fatter…”

“You are
impertinent Sir and I want you to leave.”

“Mary, Mary…you
know you find me attractive. You want me to touch you…”

“Never!”

“You long for
my kisses…”

“The thought
makes me sick.”

“Your
resistance is refreshing. Most females simply lie back and play
dead and wait for me to finish. I hope you’ll never become one of
those tiresome creatures.”

“Get out or
I’ll scream.”

“Who’d hear
you? Even if Marshall was in the next room I could take you without
fear of discovery. And don’t pretend to be a faithful wife. We all
know they’re a myth. If you were my wife I’d keep you locked up in
my bedchamber. I wouldn’t share you with anyone.”

“The only myth
is that you were ever Marshall’s friend. If he knew you were saying
those things to me he’d kill you.”

“True, but
you’d never persuade him to believe you. The fool trusts me…”

A loud knocking
on the door drew a venomous scowl from Morley and a sigh of relief
from Mary, “Come!” The door swung inward and five Smirkes stuck
their heads into the room.

Cecil looked
from Mary’s cringing posture to the smiling devil blocking her
escape from the window, “We heard you were feeling under the
weather and thought we might entertain you.”

“Oh do come in
Mr Smirke…I was hoping to hear more about your family.” The five
beautiful young men sauntered into the room and looked about for a
place to sit. “Leave the door open and pull up a chair…there are
two more through that door, in my husband’s room.”

Morley sneered
at the unexpected rescuers and slid off the window seat perfectly
composed, “I shall take my leave Lady Mary and go shoot some birds.
Is there any message you’d like me to give to Marshall?” She shook
her head. “Very well, I shall have to make something up…” Morley
turned to address Cecil Smirke standing nearby, “It would be
ungentlemanly of me not to warn you that Lord Raynham won’t call
you out after I tell him I found you entertaining his wife; he’ll
just shoot you. Good day gentlemen…my Lady.”

George Smirke
watched in disgust as Morley strolled out the door, “Cecil, you
know he’s going to cook up some lie to Raynham. We’re all going to
end up in the family vault with Mamma…Papa’s going to kill us.”

“No one’s going
to die George, stop imagining the worst.” Cecil smiled as he
claimed the edge of the window seat. “Morley’s a monster. You
should keep you’re door locked when you’re alone.”