The Hired Wife (20 page)

“Your sister is
irate because I won’t make her my Marchioness.”

“I’m irate
because you’re a pig.”

“Pigs are
intelligent, winsome and deadly when irritated.”

“Give me your
arm Marshall; your pig-friend is too busy dreaming of mud to
remember his manners.”

“Manners are
for commoners. Speaking of whom; Marshall why is your good lady
pretending I’m invisible? When she entered the room she greeted
everyone, but my good self…”

“Speak in my
ear or go to the devil.”

“Lady Mary
appears to be avoiding me. It’s a ploy ladies often use to seduce a
man. I hope you haven’t lost your wife before you’ve had a chance
to bed her.”

“Don’t listen
to a word he says Marshal. The pig thinks he’s in love with Mary,
as if his putrid heart could feel love.”

“Your sister
will next tell you she’s going to run away to perform in pantomimes
as the back end of the proverbial cow. Why would I want your wife?
You may relish bedding a blonde wash board, but I prefer women with
breasts.”

Marshall
sneered in disgust, “Stop playing your cat and mouse games.”

“Games? I’m
merely trying to live my life Marshal. If my personal quest for
happiness resembles a deadly game what is that to you? Fate hands
out the cards. All I can do is play the hand I’ve been dealt. If
you find happiness with a washboard that’s your affaire, but I’ll
require a real woman.”

“Alyce tugged
on her brother’s sleeve, “Henry’s a lying pig. He wants Mary and
he’ll do anything to have her. Coming up the hill, I saw him put
his hand down Mary’s dress. That’s why she was so upset. She fell
over trying to get away from him.”

“What?” The
word tore through the peaceful room as Marshall turned his full
attention to his sister.

“Henry stuck
his hand down Mary’s bodice…coming up the hill behind us. He said
he did it to frighten her, but he did it because he wants her. I
tell you he’s going to kill you and then marry your wife; she makes
him drool like a rutting stag.”

Morley rolled
his eyes, “The hysteric will next tell you I’ve discovered how to
turn iron into gold. I comply with your wishes not to make dear
Alyce my wife and she vilifies me in the most disgusting manner.
You really should correct her wilful spirit with a birch rod before
all the sane men find out she’s a hussy. Alyce wants revenge. Are
you going to oblige her?”

Marshall
visibly clenched his fists, “If you so much as come near Merry I’ll
pummel you within an inch of your life.”

“Kill him
before he kills you; you’re a Lord, they can’t execute you…can
they?”

Marshall turned
his fury on his sister, “Silence! If you hadn’t pestered Buckingham
to invite this old satyr, Merry would feel safe and your virtue
would be unquestionable.”

“My virtue is
unquestionable.”

“Hope springs
eternal…”

“But Henry
means to kill you, you have to do something.”

“If Lord Morley
wishes to challenge me I’d be happy to cripple him. Either way, he
may formally consider our friendship extinct.” Marshall grabbed his
sister by the arm and frogmarched her back to her table oblivious
to Morley’s sneer of amusement.

Marshall
returned to his own table nursing a savage desire to spill Henry’s
blood. Pausing next to Mary’s chair he glanced at the fireplace to
find he was being watched. Marshall returned the forced smile with
a challenging snarl before stooping. “Merry?” She looked up, but
said nothing as he took hold of her face and lightly kissed her
lips. Standing upright he glanced once more at Morley to see the
rakehell’s smile slide into a grim line of jealous hatred. Marshall
caressed Mary’s cheek before taking his seat and absently picking
up his cards as he contemplated the pleasure of pummelling his old
friend to a pulp. He could see Lady Morley to his left saying
something at him, but all he could hear was a fluctuating noise.
“What did she say?” He momentarily forgot his blood lust as Mary
touched his shoulder as she leaned across the corner of the card
table.

“She demands
you cease kissing me in public, it’s making her ill. She says ugly
people have no right to offend the eyes of innocent bystanders with
disgusting displays of dalliance.”

Marshall turned
slits of sapphire toward the old woman peering at him through her
lorgnette as if she were inspecting a slug. “My wife is not
ugly!”

“She says
you’re aesthetically blind.”

“If there is
anything wrong with my eyes Madam your son shares the same
condition. If the rakehell has his way I’ll die in a hunting
accident or some such happenstance. You won’t be sneering when your
son drags home my widow as the new Lady Morley. What did she
say?”

“She says her
son already has a wife…”

“And who is
this invisible paragon?”

“She says it’s
a secret.”

Marshall jumped
up and shouted across the seated company, “Did you hear that Alyce?
Your rakehell-lover already possesses a secret wife.” Except for
her upper lip briefly curling in contempt his sister ignored his
bellow and pretended to concentrate on her cards while furtively
watching Robert Smirke. Marshall sat back down and threw down his
cards in disgust. His sister’s odd indifference compared with her
attitude to Henry the previous day suggested that his fears were no
longer imaginary. The affair had doubtless been performed the
previous evening and Alyce had gone to bed early to receive her
husband. His stomach churned; a secret wedding with an illegal
license, a foolish willing bride and two dotty female witnesses
could easily be undone by a heartless rich rakehell. It probably
wasn’t his first illegal wedding. There was an endless supply of
eager fools ready to wed a silver tongued rich man with perfect
hearing. “I pity Henry’s secret bride. Don’t be surprised when she
conveniently falls down the stairs and breaks her neck after your
son finds her with a young lover. I understand his double standards
are nonnegotiable.”

“Lady Morley
says you’re unworthy of the years her son wasted on you. She says
she counselled him when he was young not to bother with a deaf
brute, but he insisted on being kind.”

“Is that a joke
Madam? Your son is a heartless lying cur and if he puts his hand
down my wife’s bodice again I’ll kill him…” Marshall glanced past
Mary’s lowered head to the nonchalant figure near the fire.
“…slowly. If I hang for it I’ll die knowing my wife is safe from
your vile son.”

Lady Morley
flew at Marshall and clawed at his eyes, “Touch my son and they’ll
never find your body you great ugly beast.”

Marshall easily
captured her claws and pressed them to the table as he leaned in to
her snarling fury, “Your son would thank you for saving him the
bother, but I doubt he’d thank you for depriving him of the
pleasure.”

Henry Fitzalan
appeared at Marshall’s side and hissed into his ear, “Will you now
have the footman bring a pair of manacles into the drawing room to
chain my mother to her chair? Are you a man of reason or a savage
beast?”

The old woman
was freed as Marshall jumped up out of his chair and smashed his
fist into her son’s face. Grabbing Henry’s coat, Marshall slammed
his old friend’s head onto the card table where his aristocratic
nose was outlined against the Queen of Hearts. The Marquis of
Morley gave no resistance as he stared over the table top, smirking
at Mary’s horrified expression. “Is this the first time you’ve seen
your husband lose his temper? You should be afraid Madam, one day
it’ll be your…” The Marquis of Morley was suddenly choking as
strong hands squeezed his throat.

“You lying
devil…don’t speak another word to my wife.”

“Unhand my
son!” Marshall grunted in pain as Lady Morley viciously jabbed him
repeatedly in the ribs with the handle of her lorgnette. Marshall
released his grip and snatched the lorgnette out of her hands and
threw it across the room. Turning back he found Henry calmly
retying his cravat as he held Mary’s frightened gaze with an amused
leer. “What did he say? Tell me!” Pale with fear, Mary opened her
mouth, as Henry raised a single eye brow and then pursed her lips
into a thin line.

Morley brushed
invisible lint off his coat, “If you’ve finished mauling my mother
and demonstrating your murderous strength for the household pray
excuse me. I’m in need of some air.” Marshall clenched his fists
and silently raged at having fallen into one of Henry’s traps. He’d
made himself look like a mindless brute and Henry an innocent
victim. Marshall watched Henry turn to his mother and offer his
arm, but he couldn’t hear or see the man’s lips say, “I insist on
escorting you to a calm safe environment. When Marshall’s in a
temper he spares no one.” The words sank into the ears of the
silent servants hovering at the edge of the room as they eyed
Marshall with fear. Lady Morley took her son’s arm and eyed
Marshall and Mary with hatred before lifting her chin and silently
snubbing them as she turned away and left the room with her
son.

Marshall glared
at his Aunt Beatrice who stared up at him like a cornered rabbit.
He leaned across the table and whispered through clenched teeth,
“Knowing how much you enjoy helping your favourite niece, I expect
you to be the one to nurse Alyce through all three stages of
syphilis. Watching her beauty fade as she loses her health will be
punishment enough for your mindless interference.” The old woman
was deathly still until Marshall slapped the table with his hand,
“Get out of my sight!” She erupted from her chair and ran sobbing
from the room. He felt a cold iron flatten his heart as he finally
noticed Mary cringing behind her hands. Expelling his blood lust
with a forced sigh he pulled out Mary’s chair and scooped her into
his arms and walked from the room without acknowledging the curious
stares from the other two tables.

He kicked his
bedchamber door shut behind them and collapsed in a chair holding
his wife. She was still hiding behind her hands. “Did Henry put his
hand down your bodice?” Her head nodded refilling him with blood
lust. “I’ll kill him! Why didn’t you tell me? Well?”

Mary spoke into
the offered ear from behind her hands, “What would have been the
point? You didn’t believe me when I told you he nearly ravished me.
Why would you believe that he’d violated my person?”

Marshall’s
flattened heart pumped pain through his limbs. “I would have
believed you if you’d told me he put his hand down your bodice. Did
he hurt you?”

“He grabbed my
right breast; of course it hurts!”

“That
bastard…do you hate me for being a gullible idiot?”

“I don’t hate
you.”

“But you think
me an idiot?” Marshall blinked in pain at her silence. “Why are you
angry with me? I believe you now. Merry?” She cringed away from his
caress and burst into tears. “What is the matter? Tell me.” He
waited with his ear near her lips for several long minutes hoping
to hear something that might dissipate his fear of losing her, but
her lips remained closed. Feeling rejected, he lost his temper and
shouted, “I can’t read your mind; tell me, that’s an order.”

“You humiliated
me…” Her hands slid off her face revealing wet angry eyes that
glared at him. He was a failure. He’d failed to protect the woman
he loved and she hated him. Fear stabbed his heart as she screamed,
“You shouted my shame to the entire household. How was that not
humiliating?”

“I didn’t! I’d
never humiliate you.” His wife turned away from the loud angry
words and recovered her face. Marshall had the unnerving sensation
that he was somehow deeply in the wrong as he fingered her silk
skirts draping his knee. He took a deep calming breath and
whispered with contrition, “I didn’t mean to humiliate you Merry;
everyone should know that man’s a devil. Come closer. Let me hold
you…”

“You don’t care
about my feelings.”

“How can you
say that? I swear I didn’t mean to humiliate you. Merry please…”
Marshall grunted in pain as she pushed free of his arms and ran for
the open connecting door. He jumped to his feet and followed,
“Merry Heart, don’t be angry with me I love…” Marshall winced as
the connecting door slammed closed cutting off his impulsive
declaration. “Merry!” Marshall bruised the door with his knuckle.
“You’re supposed to explain why you’re unhappy not slam doors in my
face. I don’t want you moping at my shoulder thinking ill thoughts
of me from dusk to dawn; come back here and explain yourself!” He
pressed his cheek to the door and waited. After twenty endless
minutes his heart thumped in fear as he slowly opened the door and
leaned into the room. She was lying face down on the bed. “Merry?”
She appeared to press her face deeper into the coverlet. “Merry, I
didn’t mean to hurt you.” The figure on the bed suddenly twisted
around revealing angry eyes filled with tears. Marshall shuddered
with horror as her lips formed the commanded to go away. He
clenched his fists and shouted back, “If you want me to go you
could have the courtesy to say the words in my ear so I could hear
them; that is what I hired you to do!” She merely returned her face
to the bed and ignored him. The pain of rejection blazed into rage
as his unwanted heart threatened to burst, “As I’m incapable of
protecting you, you’d best lock both doors and pray Henry hasn’t
stolen a key.” Slamming the door shut, he muttered curses at his
heart. He was a stupid fool for thinking he could ever be loved.
The morning’s sweet elation had been quashed by her angry command.
If she wanted him to go, he’d go. Stepping out into the corridor he
ignored his heart’s order that he stay and protect his beloved.
There were only two things that could ease the pain; Mary’s kisses
or killing the Marquis of Morley. He paused at his wife’s door and
checked the handle. It was locked. There was no hope of kisses;
he’d have to make due with pummelling Henry.