A Woman of Passion (11 page)

Bess awakened, terrified. The room was empty, stripped bare. She ran downstairs and found the bailiffs carrying off everything she possessed in the world. She begged, pleaded, and
cried, all to no avail. Outside, her families' meager belongings were being piled on a cart. They had been put out of their house and had nowhere to go. Fear washed over her in great waves. Panic choked her. When she turned around, the cart was gone, her family was gone, even Hardwick Manor had vanished. Bess had lost everything she had in the world. The terror mounted until it engulfed her; the waves of fear almost drowned her. The hollow, empty feeling inside her belly was like ravenous hunger, only worse. She was overwhelmed with helplessness, hopelessness.

“Bess, Bess, wake up! You are screaming … you are having a nightmare.”

Bess opened her eyes and clutched Jane with trembling hands. “I was back at Hardwick again!”

“Was it the same nightmare you always used to have?” Bess nodded. It was just a dream, she reminded herself. It was over, thank God, but the hollow, empty feeling inside her belly remained.

Bess was late coming downstairs the next morning. She had barely set foot in the kitchen when she heard a frantic knock on the door and a gray-faced Robert Barlow was ushered into the room.

“It's Father. He's much worse … we think he's dying.”

“Sit down, Rob. You are ill; you are white as a ghost.” Bess was alarmed at his lack of breath.

“I must go to Edensor for Reverend Rufus.”

Mistress Hardwick took matters into her own hands. “No, James will fetch the reverend. We must all hurry back to your house. We will be needed.”

Her mother and stepfather, Marcella, and Jane set out
at once. Robert lingered behind, waiting for Bess. “I'm so sorry, Rob,” she said helplessly.

He looked at her, his blue eyes beseeching. “Bess, will you marry me?”

She couldn't reply; her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
I don't want this marriage! It will ruin all my chances. … It will ruin my life!

“It won't be a lifetime sentence, Bess. … I have only a few years left.”

“Don't say that, Robert, please—”

“I'm not afraid to die, at least not when you're with me. I love you, Bess. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

What could she say? How could she hurt him as cruelly as she had been hurt? “I … I'll think about it, Rob.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled with renewed hope.

When Robert and Bess arrived, Arthur Barlow was sinking quickly. The death rattle could be heard in his labored breathing, yet incredibly Mistress Barlow was going hammer and tongs at Ralph Leche. “If you don't make her go through with this marriage, I swear I'll have you in the Fleet for the debt you owe us!”

“Stop, please! Have you no sense of decency?” Bess cried.

“Decency? There's little that's decent about the Hardwicks! Your father and brother have taken wicked advantage of me. While my man has lay dying, they've had the use of our land with no intention of paying for it! And you, Bess Hardwick, you're too selfish to help us in our time of need!”

Robert took her arm. “Mother, stop. Bess is the most unselfish girl in the world. I love her.”

The Reverend Rufus arrived with James Hardwick, which put a stop to Mistress Barlow's accusations. He went to the bedside, then came back to the group. “If I am to perform a marriage, it must be with Arthur Barlow's consent, and the union must be
in the life of his father
because Robert is a minor. Mistress Hardwick, Mistress Barlow, you know all this; we have discussed it at length.”

All eyes swung to Bess. She realized that she held her family's fate in the palm of her hand. Then she looked at Robert, who was mutely begging her. Bess was suddenly furious. As usual, everything fell on her shoulders; everyone in the room was weak, forcing her to be strong and decisive. “I want it in writing that you won't press charges against Ralph Leche.”

Reverend Rufus said, “There's no time; Arthur is dying. All that can be written out later.”

Bess stood her ground. “Unless I get a signed paper, there will be no marriage!”

There was an undignified scramble for paper and pen. Bess got her signed paper, as well as a document setting out her bride's portion of one third of the Barlow estate's income, should her husband predecease her.

Arthur Barlow breathed his last before the vows were completed, but all present chose to pretend otherwise. When Bess whispered, “I will,” she felt completely numb. Surely this wasn't really happening to her. Everything seemed totally unreal!

She looked at Rob across the corpse of his father and suddenly saw that he was near collapse. She straightened her shoulders and addressed her mother-in-law with blazing eyes.

“Excuse me, please. I'm going to put my husband to bed where he belongs.”

I
n spite of the fact that Robert Barlow had told Bess he was not afraid to die, he
was
afraid after witnessing how ravaged his father had become before he took his last breath. Yet he had not lied overmuch. With Bess beside him the ordeal would be less frightening. Though his mother would not accept it, Robert feared he suffered from the same malady as his father. It was a chronic distemper of the lungs that steadily debilitated the body until the coughing spasms brought forth black-blooded sputum, which was disgustingly foul.

It was a fateful day for Robert Barlow; not only had he lost his father to death, he had gained his heart's desire. Tumultuous emotions warred within him, taking him to the brink of collapse. Gratitude toward Bess almost undid him as she helped him up the stairs to his bedchamber.

Robert was thankful it was a spacious, comfortable room with a fireplace, since from now on it would have to accommodate two. He sat on the bed, exhausted, drained of every drop of his energy. As if Bess knew exactly
how he felt, she began to undress him. When she knelt to remove his boots, he felt humbled. Tears flooded his eyes as he looked down upon her beloved red head.

On a sob he asked, “Bess, how can this be the unhappiest, yet the happiest day of my life?”

Bess rose, sat on the bed beside him, and gathered him into her arms. “Rob, we have
fateful days
when both good and bad things can happen … things that alter our lives. There is absolutely nothing more you can do for your father, he's in God's hands.” You, however, are in my hands, she thought with silent resolution. “I want you to rest and regain your strength.” She finished undressing him in her capable manner, tucked the covers about him, then restoked the fire.

“Bess, don't leave me.”

She came back to the bed and once more enfolded him against her breast. Suddenly, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He began to sob out his heart, and Bess held him tightly, giving him her strength, her comfort, and her love.

When Robert slept, Bess went downstairs. It was midafternoon and her family was still there. Marcella had helped to wash and lay out Arthur Barlow, and Ralph and James had gone to the barn to milk the Barlow cows. Jane slipped her hand into Bess's and squeezed. Meanwhile, Reverend Rufus was making arrangements with the widow for Arthur Barlow's burial.

They stopped talking as Mistress Barlow stared at Bess with hard eyes. “ 'Tis indecent—you couldn't wait to get him into bed!”

Bess was shocked at her implication. She looked directly into her mother-in-law's eyes. “Robert is ill. I shall do my best to nurse him back to health. I would like your cooperation.”

Marcella, who had been holding her tongue for hours, declared, “Bess is right. You will be burying your son alongside his father unless you open your eyes.” She turned to Bess's mother. “I'll go back and see that the girls get their supper.”

“I'll come with you,” Bess said. “I must get my things.”

“We'll all go; I think Mistress Barlow needs a little peace and quiet,” Elizabeth Hardwick said firmly.

When they arrived home Bess immediately went upstairs to pack. Rogue Cavendish's letter still lay on the bedside table. Bess snatched it up and tore it in half, then thought better of destroying it completely and placed it at the bottom of her trunk.

She folded her clothes, then, as an afterthought, picked up her long-forgotten doll Esmeralda, who had been passed on to her younger sisters. She realized the doll was a representation of herself. She had named her Lady Ponsonby, hoping someday to become a titled lady in her own right. How naive she had been. Bess put the doll into the trunk, closed the lid, and stared down at it. Everything she owned in the world was in that chest.

Her mother slipped into the room. “Bess, how can I ever, ever thank you? You are so kind and unselfish, I can't believe it.”

I'm not! I'm the most selfish female in the world. Thank God you cannot hear my thoughts.
“Don't ever lose that paper Mistress Barlow signed. She can never press charges against Ralph so long as you have it safe in your possession!”

Marcella entered the bedroom as her mother left. “Bess, what can I say, child? You won't get much comfort out of this marriage, except knowing you've given Elizabeth and Ralph peace of mind.”

“It is Robert who needs comfort.”

“And you will give it to him, in full measure.” Marcella drew her close and kissed her brow. “My dearest Bess, sometimes our destinies are played out in strange ways. … All things come at their appointed time. You are so young, you have your whole life before you. Perhaps if you give now, someday you will attain your heart's desire.”

Bess Barlow now had a mission. She set about restoring her young husband's health and making his life more pleasant. She demanded an extra room next to their bed-chamber and turned it into a comfortable sitting room. She spent most of her time with Robert, except for attending her sister Jane's wedding and a weekly visit with her family. She prepared his meals, rubbed his chest, dosed him with herbal possets, and amused him to keep his spirits from flagging.

Bess became everything to Robert: mother, nurse, friend, companion, everything except wife. He never attempted to consummate their marriage, and Bess told herself that it was because Robert was younger than she and his body was not yet physically mature. Although Rob was tall, he was extremely thin and underdeveloped in muscle and other male attributes.

Bess realized that she would never have known this if she had not seen that bold devil, George Talbot, stark naked by the River Thames last summer. She could not help but make a comparison between the two young men. Never would she have believed that two males of approximately the same age could be so physically disparate, if she had not seen them with her own eyes!

Talbot's arms and shoulders were sleekly muscled, as
were his slim hips. Dark hair covered his chest. She remembered that his legs—and thighs too—had bulged with muscles. But it was what had risen up from between those thighs that left an indelible impression on her innocence. It had been her first encounter with a naked, aroused male.

Remembering the way the devil had enjoyed shocking her, Bess shuddered. How very thankful she was that her fair young husband represented no threat whatsoever to her. Robert worshiped Bess in every way; he was simply not robust enough to consummate the marriage, and in a way Bess felt relieved that it was so.

It was no secret that Robert adored his beautiful wife, and as a result his mother became excessively jealous. She spoke spitefully to Bess but was careful not to antagonize her daughter-in-law too far. There was something intimidating about the redheaded young woman who was responsible for safeguarding the Barlow estate.

When the Court of Wards had stepped in, they hadn't been able to touch Bess's marriage portion, which consisted of one third of the estate, and the remaining two thirds in question became secure when Godfrey Boswell, Jane's new husband, bought Robert Barlow's wardship.

Robert's health remained poor all winter, but when spring arrived it began to improve. By May he was able to accompany his wife on short rides, and they attended the wedding of Bess's younger sister, Alice, to Francis Leche of Chatsworth, who was the nephew of her stepfather, Ralph. They rested their horses on the summit of the hill before descending to Chatsworth. “Rob, that is the most beautiful piece of land I've ever seen in my life,” Bess declared, filling her lungs with spring air as if it were the elixir of life.

Chatsworth was green and lush, and the River Derwent
circled to the west like a glittering, silver ribbon, while Sherwood Forest lay close on the east. “I often came up here when I was a little girl and pretended that someday I would build a fairy-tale castle down there.”

“Poor Bess. You had dreams of being a princess, but instead of Prince Charming, you got me.”

She glanced up at him, thinking that his face and thick fair hair were worthy of a prince. If only he were stronger, she thought poignantly. “Save your pity. I have no doubt you will be the handsomest young man at the wedding,” she assured him. If only he were older, much, much older, she wished with a resigned sigh.

That night, when they returned home from the wedding, the romance of the occasion stayed with them. When she joined Rob in bed, Bess was not surprised to feel his arms slip about her. He loved to hold her and look at her and stroke her hair. She knew it gave him untold pleasure, and it was no unpleasant thing for Bess to be so sweetly cherished by her young husband.

“Alice was a beautiful bride and Chatsworth such a perfect setting for a wedding.” Bess sighed.

“She's not nearly as beautiful as you, my darling. You make my heart sing, Bess; can you hear it?” Rob was so much taller than Bess that her cheek rested against his heart.

Her arms went about him, and she lamented his thinness. “You must try to eat more, Rob. Are you never hungry?”

“I'm hungry for you. Bess, you are still a bride, still a virgin. I want to make you my wife tonight. May I kiss you, sweetheart? I won't kiss you on the mouth, Bess, I don't want you to catch my sickness. I love you too much to ever harm you.”

Bess kissed him, very close to his mouth. She bloomed
with health and was not afraid of contact with her young husband. He was both stronger and older than when they had wed, and she wondered what it would be like to lose her virginity. A tremulous smile touched the corner of her mouth as she recalled how passionately she had protected that virginity from a determined Rogue Cavendish.