The Scarlet Kimono (Choc Lit) (6 page)

‘Hannah, it’s simply not seemly for a girl your age. You’re not a child, it is time you acted responsibly. We suspect you need something to occupy you and caring for Mr Hesketh’s children will keep you busy.’

‘But I don’t want to marry him! He’s already buried two wives and I’d have five step-children. Five!’

‘Nothing unusual in that. The responsibility will help you to mature.’

‘I don’t like him,’ Hannah gritted out through clenched teeth. ‘There must be someone else I could marry. Anyone!’

‘Don’t be so melodramatic. Hesketh is an excellent fellow. I’ve known him for years. No doubt you’ll become used to him and he’s well able to provide for both yourself and his offspring. Why, he has a fine house and plenty of servants. You’ll want for nothing.’

Hannah blinked back tears. She wanted to protest further, but she knew it would be no use. Once her parents decided on something, they refused to listen to any arguments to the contrary. From now on, she could fight it all she liked, but in the end they would win. That was always the way.

She closed her eyes and tried to listen to the voice of reason. Her parents claimed they wanted what was best for her and they had chosen Mr Hesketh. It was her duty to accept their choice with good grace. And Father had said the man was an ‘excellent fellow’. Surely he should know?

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

But then why did she feel as if she was going to the scaffold?

Chapter Six

Northern Japan, July 1611

When Taro went to pay his wife an evening visit some days after his conversation with Yanagihara, he was still mulling over the old man’s words. He had decided to try a different tack, which was why he was here. Normally, he would send for her to come to his suite of rooms, but tonight he had thought to surprise her. In his sleeve he had a gift, an exquisite jewelled comb that he’d had brought specially from the capital Edo. He hoped that by giving her such lovely trinkets, she would soften towards him at last and open up fully, in mind as well as body.

How could she possibly fail to appreciate a husband who treated her so handsomely?

Instead of the usual group of serving women, however, he was startled to come face to face with only Reiko in the ante-room to his wife’s bedchamber. Her face lit up at the sight of him, obviously pleased, but try as he might, he couldn’t reciprocate with so much as a smile. He managed to keep the irritation out of his voice as he announced, ‘I’ve come to see my wife.’ He nodded towards the sliding doors. ‘Is she within?’

‘I’m sorry, my lord, but my sister is indisposed.’ Reiko bowed low. ‘Was there something I could help you with?’

‘What’s wrong with her?’ he asked, frowning at her openly now and ignoring her question. She didn’t look the slightest bit worried, so Hasuko couldn’t be very ill. In fact, Reiko was wearing a smug expression which annoyed him intensely. He wished that he could find some excuse for sending her back to her father, but apparently Hasuko couldn’t do without her sister yet. Or so she said. And true to his character, Lord Takaki hadn’t bestirred himself to find Reiko a new husband. Out of sight, out of mind, perhaps.
If only I were that lucky …

‘Oh, you know, womanly matters,’ Reiko replied with a coy smile.

Taro wondered why she was the only person sleeping in the ante-room. There should have been other ladies present, but presumably they had been relegated to different quarters because their mistress was feeling delicate. Reiko was kneeling on her
futon
and as he continued to stare at her, the sleeping robe she wore slipped down, showing him one pale shoulder. He blinked, sure that she’d done it on purpose.

What was she up to now? Surely, she wasn’t trying to seduce him within hearing distance of her sister? The walls were paper thin and even the smallest sound would be enough to wake Hasuko. This didn’t seem to deter Reiko though. She moved towards him on her knees and raised her chin to show off the long, white column of her throat. Taro swallowed down an expletive at her provocative pose. He wanted nothing from her. Her body least of all.

The thought that Hasuko must be colluding with her sister made him clench his fist inside the sleeve of his robe. There could be no other explanation for this strange situation and this made him furious. If they had hoped he would fall for Reiko’s charms and be forced to make her an official consort in this way, they’d thought wrong. He chose his own women and would not be coerced.

And how could Hasuko tolerate the thought of sharing him with her own sister? There could only be one reason – she didn’t want him herself in the slightest. Yanagihara must have been right, Hasuko desired another man, one she couldn’t have.

He drew in a deep breath to stop himself from showing any emotion.

‘Well, please tell my wife that I wish her a speedy recovery,’ he said and turned to leave. The sooner he was back in his own rooms, the better.

‘Wait, my lord, please.’ Reiko got to her feet, faster than he’d thought possible. She reached out to put a hand on his arm to detain him. ‘It may be some days before my sister is well again.’ She slanted him a sideways look that made him feel very uncomfortable and continued, ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to be inconvenienced in the meantime. In fact, she told me so herself and asked me to … entertain you.’

Taro gritted his teeth. Reiko was either extremely obtuse or very persistent. He didn’t care which. All he knew was that he needed to get out of there and quickly.

‘That is very kind of you both, but I’m a patient man and Hasuko is all I need. She is the perfect wife. I can wait. Goodnight, Reiko-
san
.’

He hurried out of the door before she could say anything else. Without being impolite, he couldn’t make it any clearer that he didn’t want what she was offering. Yanagihara’s words rang in his mind as he hurried along the corridor, followed by his body guards. ‘Never slight her or her sister,’ the old man had said.

Well, he’d done his best, but there was only so much a man could take. Reiko was enough to try the patience of the gods themselves and unless she’d taken the hint this evening, he would have to do something drastic.

The woman was a menace.

Chapter Seven

Plymouth, Devon, 28th June 1611

‘Jacob!
Jacob!
Where is he, damn him?’

Hannah was just coming out of the kitchen a few weeks later when her father emerged from his counting room, shouting at the top of his voice. He fixed her with a baleful look. ‘Have you seen your brother? We have matters to discuss.’

‘No, Father, but I would like a word with you, please.’

‘Not now, can’t you see I’m busy?’

‘But I must speak to you about Mr Hesketh.’

Since the unofficial betrothal, the man had become a regular visitor to the household, and his attentions to Hannah were increasing daily. She had tried to tell her mother that he was behaving in an unseemly manner, but Mistress Marston refused to listen. ‘Don’t be childish,’ she’d told Hannah. ‘Of course he’s attentive. That’s as it should be. The man’s besotted. Think yourself lucky.’

Lucky, hah!

Her father was in no mood to listen either, it seemed. ‘You’re marrying him and that’s that,’ he growled. ‘I won’t hear another word on the subject, is that clear?’

‘But Father, really …’

‘Here I am.’ Jacob came rushing down the stairs, taking them two at a time and almost tripping on the last set. ‘What’s the matter?’

Mr Marston senior promptly forgot Hannah’s presence. ‘There you are! We still have much to plan. This is no time to be dawdling in bed.’

Jacob looked sheepish, but protested, ‘I wasn’t.’

‘Well, be that as it may, you’re here now. Let us begin.’

The two men disappeared into the counting room and shut the door. Hannah hesitated for a moment, then cast a quick glance around the hall to make sure there was no one about. She tip-toed over and put her ear to the keyhole. This eavesdropping was becoming a bad habit and she promised herself it would stop. Soon. For now, however, it was necessary.

‘Now you do know speed is essential?’ her father was saying. ‘There must be no detours even if you find profitable cargoes along the way. They can wait for another time.’

‘Yes, father, of course I know that, but I still think we should take the normal route and hope for favourable winds.’

‘No, you simply
must
reach the Japans before the East India Company merchants. And as soon as you get there, you have to contact this Mr Adams.’

‘But if the Company’s ships sailed months ago, there’s no guarantee we can arrive before them. Faith, they have a head start of more than two months!’

‘You can, I’m sure of it. Besides, who’s to say they arrive at all? Anything could happen at sea. We must chance it.’

‘But why, father? Surely there are other schemes that would be both safer and more profitable?’

‘Don’t argue with me, I’ve made up my mind. I want to be the first Englishman to trade with the Japonish nation and there’s an end to it. There might even be a knighthood in it for me, I can just see it. Are the ships ready?’

‘Nearly. We should be able to leave with the tide the day after tomorrow, but what about Kate’s nuptials? She particularly wanted me to attend.’

‘Can’t be helped. This is more important. I’ll make sure she understands, you can count on it. She’s a good girl, she’ll listen to her father. Now if only Hannah would do the same …’

Hannah didn’t stay to hear any more, she had already remained longer than she should have done. On silent feet she retreated towards the back of the house and escaped into the garden.

Despair engulfed her and she blinked back tears. The memory of Mr Hesketh touching her surreptitiously, as he had done only the day before when her mother’s attention was elsewhere, was enough to make her feel physically sick. But perhaps she was being silly and childish?

Any man she married would have the right to do whatever he wanted with her. It was a fact of life and one she’d have to accept. Mr Hesketh was simply so eager for the marriage he couldn’t restrain himself. In all honestly, could she blame him for that? Like her mother said, she ought to be flattered he desired her to such an extent. Perhaps no one else ever would? It wasn’t as if she was a beauty like Kate.

But she wasn’t flattered. Not in the slightest.

‘There you are, my sweet. Your mother told me I’d find you out here, basking in the summer sunshine.’

Hannah stifled a gasp as her betrothed joined her on the bench against the far wall of the garden where she’d been sitting. It was hidden from the house by some overlarge jasmine bushes and she’d hoped to remain undetected for the rest of the afternoon. Obviously that was not to be.

‘Yes, uhm, isn’t it glorious?’ she stammered, feeling her face heat up the way it always did when Mr Hesketh was too close. He’d asked her to call him Ezekiel now, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. It seemed too familiar somehow.

‘Glorious, indeed,’ he murmured, staring at her the way she imagined a hungry wolf might look at its prey. His gaze travelled from the top of her head down to her waist and even lower, then up again. Those strange moss-green eyes of his were lit by some emotion Hannah unconsciously understood, but shied away from. The intensity of it made her break into a cold sweat.

She felt her breathing quicken and wondered what excuse she could give in order to flee back to the safety of the house. Before she had time to come up with anything, however, he suddenly put his arms around her and pulled her close. His mouth came down on hers with some force and when she uttered a squeak of protest, he took the opportunity to insert his tongue between her lips. Hannah almost gagged.

She tried to push him off and managed to twist her face away from his, but he grabbed her chin with one hand in a vice-like grip and turned it back. ‘Don’t fight me, sweeting,’ he whispered. ‘No need for maidenly modesty now, we’re as good as married.’

His lips descended on hers again and he clamped his other arm round her back so there was no escape. Hannah began to panic and a very real lack of air made black spots dance in front of her eyes. She tried again to fight him, but he was so much stronger than her and her arms were pressed tight against her sides. She didn’t stand a chance.

When Hannah thought she might be on the verge of fainting, he stopped kissing her mouth at last, but it was only a short reprieve. Instead his lips travelled across her cheek and down her neck, leaving a snail’s trail of slime that made her want to retch. His hands began to roam over her body. Hannah pushed them away, but they only moved to some other part of her anatomy. He squeezed one of her breasts, making her moan with pain. ‘No, please, don’t,’ she protested, but he seemed to take this as encouragement rather than the opposite and only mauled her further.

‘Knew you’d like it,’ he muttered thickly, his other hand pushing her skirts up so he could gain access to her naked thighs. ‘You have such spirit.’

A sob escaped Hannah, and she tried again to free herself using both nails and fists, but to no avail. She looked about for some kind of weapon to use in her defence, but there was nothing to hand. ‘Please, stop!’ she pleaded, but Mr Hesketh seemed not to hear her. He was making strange noises deep in his throat that frightened her even more.

‘Ahem! Oh, I do beg your pardon. Am I interrupting something?’

Hannah looked up and saw to her unbridled relief the welcome face of Jacob, his eyes narrowed at the scene he’d stumbled upon. Mr Hesketh swore under his breath, but removed his hands from Hannah and pushed her skirt back down. ‘What do you want?’ he snarled, breathing heavily and scowling at his future brother-in-law. ‘My betrothed and I were hoping for a little privacy.’

‘So sorry, but I was sent out to find Hannah. She’s needed at the house.’ Jacob shrugged. ‘Something to do with female apparel, you know how it is.’ Hannah noticed his expression was grim, but he kept up the pretence that everything was normal.

Hannah heard Mr Hesketh take a deep breath and mutter something that sounded like ‘idiot’, but there was nothing he could say out loud without being impolite. She didn’t wait for him to comment in any case, but jumped up and headed for the house as if the devil and all his helpers were after her. Her heart was beating like a drum and she was terrified something would stop her from reaching the safety of her room. She only hoped her legs would carry her that far. They were shaking so badly, she was beginning to doubt it. Just as she neared the back door, Jacob caught up with her.

‘No one wants you, just disappear upstairs,’ he hissed.

She threw him a startled look. ‘What? Oh … thank you. I … you have no idea how much I appreciate your help.’

‘Actually, I think I have. I’ll try to speak to Father again, but I doubt he’ll listen. I’m sorry.’ He smiled a little sadly. ‘Now go, quickly.’

Hannah didn’t need to be told twice.

What was she to do? Hannah paced the tiny bed chamber, too agitated to sit down.

She simply couldn’t go through with this marriage. But did she have a choice?

During the past few days an idea had taken root in her mind and it refused to go away. She needed to escape and the more she thought about it, the more she came to the conclusion that she only had one option. She had to seize her chance and leave with Rydon and her brother. If she didn’t act now, it would be too late.

‘Why shouldn’t I go?’ she muttered. If she refused to marry Mr Hesketh she would be in disgrace anyway. Besides, no one would miss her, she was sure of that, except for Edward, but he’d be going to sea soon himself on one of their father’s other ships. Her sister hated her, her father mostly ignored her and to her mother she was nothing but trouble. You need a steadying hand, her father had said. Well, Hannah disagreed if that hand belonged to Ezekiel Hesketh.

The ships were leaving the day after tomorrow and she intended to be on board when they did.

‘Hannah, fetch me the beeswax, if you please. The maids have done a terrible job on this table, it needs doing again. And why are you smirking, pray?’

Hannah had been loitering in the hallway, waiting for an opportunity to sneak into the store room unseen. Here it was, handed to her on a plate as it were, which was why she found it hard to keep her expression straight. ‘Yes, Mother.’ She tried harder to school her features into a more solemn expression.

‘Lazy servants, I cannot trust anyone these days,’ Mistress Marston muttered. ‘And you, why are you skulking about? Don’t you have chores to attend to? I marvel that you can stand idle when there is always so much to be done.’

‘I finished my tasks, Mother.’

‘Finished, indeed. Why didn’t you say? Well, off with you then. What are you waiting for? And when you come back, I’ll find you something else to occupy your time with. Mark my words, you’ll have no time for idleness once you’re married.’

Hannah set off on her errand with unusual alacrity and her mother threw her a suspicious glance. Normally, Mistress Marston could have expected only grudging willingness from her daughter. But Hannah was in good spirits today since gathering together the things she needed for her adventure had proved surprisingly easy.

With the house in an uproar because of Kate’s forthcoming nuptials, no one was paying much attention to Hannah. So far, she had acquired almost everything she could think of and hidden it in a sack at the bottom of a clothes chest in her bedchamber. A blanket, a comb and a knife, spoon and wooden bowl had been squirrelled away. Also the boy’s clothes she planned to wear, which she’d purloined from Edward’s room.

All that was left to steal was some food and drink. She knew she couldn’t bring much, only what was absolutely essential for her survival. Some bread and cheese, a pie perhaps and a chunk of smoked ham or sausage. She reckoned victuals to last her three or four days would be enough. And now she had her chance. She set off to fetch the beeswax, as well as carry out her own errand.

Soon, all would be ready for her flight.

Late that evening, she set about crossing the next hurdle – to leave the house undetected. Since the ship was sailing on the morning tide, Hannah knew she had to somehow get onboard during the night. Escaping from the house after dark was, however, not an easy task. All the doors were locked and checked by her father each evening before bedtime, and there was a guard dog who was let loose to prowl the garden all night. The locked doors she could overcome by climbing out through a window, but the dog was a different matter. He was a vicious brute at the best of times.

‘A bone should do the trick,’ she muttered to herself and stole a half-eaten leg of lamb from the pantry just before bedtime. ‘If the stupid hound isn’t tempted by that, I’ll have to hit him over the head with something.’