Arian (2 page)

‘You will, when the right man comes along.’ Fon followed Arian to the door putting her hand on Arian’s arm: ‘Are you sure you won’t stay awhile, help me with the milking and such? I could do with another pair of hands, you know I could.’

Arian shook her head. ‘It’s not for me. You know I couldn’t settle to it, but thanks.’

Arian found herself hurrying away, back up into the hills to where she had found a sort of peace these last months. She walked past the shed as though driven, onwards, upwards towards the farmhouse that once had been her home, the place she had been born and the place where part of her had died. She needed suddenly to face the ghosts of her past and to fix them in the past where they all belonged.

She breasted the hill and saw, with the same old shock of recognition, the burnt-out shell of the farm building. The chimneys pointed heavenward, jagged, blackened like bad teeth. She moved inside the stone walls and looked up at the sky through the skeleton frame of the roof, and suddenly there were tears in her eyes.

Here her father had beaten her in his drunken excesses, here the man she’d thought loved her had held her prisoner, had raped her. The word fell, flint-like into her consciousness. The man who had hurt her was dead but it did not make the pain go away, and if she couldn’t begin to face the future with some shred of dignity, she too might as well have died in the fire that had raged through the farmhouse.

She stood there for a long time, recalling the past, examining it, exorcising it, and at last Arian lifted her eyes to the open skies above the burnt-out rooftop and made a pact with herself. She would not remain Price Davies’s victim, she would shake off the semi-madness that had gripped her, she would live again, make an effort to force her life into some kind of shape, and sense.

Perhaps if she tidied herself up, took the clothes that Fon had offered, she could go into Swansea, look for a job and then for decent lodgings and then she might just begin to find her self-respect again.

Self-respect, the words seemed nothing more than a distant dream. Could she do it, could she find the courage from somewhere to make a fresh start?

Arian sank down onto a flat stone that now held the warmth of the spring sunshine and tears came to her eyes. She knew them for what they were, tears of self-pity and weakness but she couldn’t stem them, not if hell had her.

‘Damn the woman.’ Calvin Temple stood before the blazing logs that burned brightly in the ornate marble fireplace. ‘I’ll be thankful when the whole sordid business is over and I’m free of her for ever.’

‘Lord Temple, may I speak as a friend as well as your solicitor? Are you sure you wish to go through with this? Divorce is not a pretty thing, even these days. We may be on the threshold of a new century but mud still sticks to both sides and you will come in for some criticism, don’t be misled about that.’

‘Alun,’ Calvin said slowly, ‘could you live with a woman who cheated on you, bore a son and then confessed that the boy had been fathered by another man? Could you live with that for the rest of your life? Because I can’t. I want to sever all relationships with Eline and her bastard child for ever. Is that so difficult to understand?’

‘No, it isn’t,’ Alun replied, looking away in embarrassment, ‘but Lady Temple might accuse you of throwing her out into the street, of bankrupting her, all of which is true.’

‘Don’t call her that,’ Calvin snapped. ‘She is Eline Harries, always will be to me.’

‘But she has rights,’ Alun reminded him gently. ‘She is your wife, at least for the time being.’

‘I know,’ Calvin rubbed at his eyes. Even the mention of her name had the power to hurt him still. ‘I know, but she is living with William Davies under my very nose. How else am I to deal with the situation? I am embarrassed and ashamed.’

He paused and rubbed his eyes. Not even to Alun could he confess that he was hurt beyond reason by Eline’s betrayal.

‘Another thing,’ he said, ‘I couldn’t let my title and my inheritance pass to another man’s bastard and that’s final.’

Alun conceded the point. ‘Of course not, you’re right. Forgive my questions, I see they are futile. Divorce, however unpleasant, is the only solution.’

‘Will it take long, before I’m free, I mean?’ Calvin felt he was supplicating, like a child in difficulties, almost begging to be left some trace of dignity.

‘No, it won’t take long, not with the obvious evidence of your wife’s infidelity,’ Alun said softly. He moved to the door, ‘I’ll be in touch.’

When he was alone, Calvin moved to the window and stared out into the gardens. He saw that the trees in the orchard at the far end of the grounds were beginning to blossom. Spring was touching the earth, the world was warming into life but when would he be able to face life again without feeling as though he was in some way crippled?

Calvin, impatient with his mood, squared his shoulders. He was like a woman with the vapours, he told himself. It was high time he pulled himself together and got on with living instead of merely existing.

Outdoors, it was chillier than he’d thought it would be and yet the bracing air tasted like wine as Calvin set out on foot towards the town. He had little idea where he was going but he needed to shake off the claustrophobic atmosphere that hung over his house. Since he’d been without his wife, Stormhill Manor had not felt the same. It was, now, just another building, it was no longer home.

It was only a short walk into the busy heart of Swansea. The market was thronged with people, and the tang of spring vegetables along with the aroma of freshly baked bread hung enticingly upon the air.

Calvin felt restless. He was a man without direction and he recognized himself as such with a dart of dismay. Money he had aplenty but he needed more than that. He needed an interest in life, a goal, an ambition but one that would not, ever again, involve him falling in love with any woman.

He would eventually need a suitable wife, one who would play the hostess, provide him with heirs and one who would do his bidding without question, but that was something he would think about later on, when his wounds had begun to heal, perhaps.

Calvin suddenly felt the need for a drink of ale. He almost ached for the company of fellow men, and the cheery, smoke-filled bar of the Castle Hotel seemed to beckon him through the portals.

There was a card game taking place in the tap room and now and then a jubilant laugh from one of the players cut through the hubbub of masculine voices.

Calvin sat near the roaring fire and the old chair creaked beneath him. He took off his hat and saw with a sense of satisfaction that the landlord was at his side in an instant, waiting to serve the unusually well-dressed customer whose very appearance shouted wealth and breeding.

‘Ale,’ Calvin said pleasantly, ‘and a toddy on the side will do nicely.’

‘I’ll send the girl along at once, sir,’ the landlord said, his plump face half hidden by a bushy moustache. ‘She’s new, so if she’s a bit slow, like, perhaps you’ll make allowances, sir.’

Calvin stretched his feet towards the blaze and meeting the eyes of the man sitting opposite him, nodded in recognition.

‘You’re looking well, Jamie O’Conner. In town for the day?’

‘Sure, that’s right.’ Jamie was a handsome man with the far-sighted eyes of a farmer. ‘Whenever we meet,’ he smiled ruefully, ‘it’s usually in the company of our womenfolk at some fair or other.’ He coughed in sudden embarrassment. ‘Sorry, I understand you’ve had some difficulties, you and Eline.’

‘That’s right,’ Calvin said briskly. The clink of glasses made him aware of the girl at his side. He turned. She was thin, wraith-like almost, but there was no mistaking the silver hair, upswept now into a knot but the glow undiminished. He had met Arian Smale some time ago, happy and fresh she’d been then, tagging along with a fine young man, Eddie Carpenter was his name, as Calvin remembered.

He sighed. Things changed. The talk about Arian Smale in recent months had pointed to a very different person to the carefree, confident Arian Smale he had first met.

‘Thank you,’ Calvin said. ‘How is your friend Eddie getting along? Is he a doctor yet?’ He looked away quickly. This girl with her haunted eyes and hollow cheeks was yet another reminder of the time when he had been in love with Eline, blindly in love, more fool him. Oh, yes, Eline had taken him places, introduced him to people who, in the normal course of his life, he probably would not have met, worthy people indeed but not his kind, he was better off without them.

‘We lost touch. She took a deep breath as though realizing how surly she must seem. ‘Grateful enough he was for your help though, sir, I’m sure.’

His help?’ Oh yes, he had funded the boy’s training. Calvin had forgotten that, the money had been of little enough consequence. The girl placed the mug of foaming ale on the table and Calvin, glancing at her saw that her eyes were lowered, her shoulders bent in an attitude of subservience. Pity, an unwanted emotion, swept over him. The girl was so pale that her skin was almost transparent. She was, it seemed, beaten into submission by the fate life had meted out to her. Well, whatever stories lie behind her demure façade, that was her business and none of his.

As the girl moved away, Calvin turned his attention to Jamie O’Conner. The man was leaning forwards on the wooden settle, his legs stretched out before him, his pipe clenched between his teeth and he was watching the girl with a look of concern. Calvin wondered what he was thinking. At least the man wasn’t a gossip, he kept his own counsel.

Perversely, Calvin suddenly wished to draw the man out, make conversation with him.

‘Farm thriving?’ He asked casually and Jamie took his time in deliberation before answering the question.

‘Pretty busy this time of year.’ Jamie smiled suddenly and his face was transformed. He was a man that most women would find irresistible and it was clear he was a man at peace with the world and himself. Calvin envied him.

‘Early lambing always means work for everyone on the farm but I’ve got the excuse of coming into town for some seed. Could have sent the labourer sure enough but I felt the urge to bend my arm over a drink as a change from driving a plough.’

Calvin had liked Jamie O’Conner when he’d first met him and now he found himself warming to the man even more. They were from different worlds and yet Calvin recognized the strength of purpose in him.

‘You are a lucky man,’ he said almost absently and Jamie nodded.

‘Aye, I’ve got my land, a fine wife, a son and now another babbi on the way. You could surely call me lucky.’

Calvin raised his hand without turning, calling for another drink. His arm met something soft, and there was a sharp intake of breath behind him and the crash of smashing china.

Calvin was on his feet in an instant and turned to meet the apologetic eyes of Arian Smale.

‘Sorry, sir,’ she said quickly. ‘I hope there’s no ale on your sleeve.’

The landlord hurried across the sawdust-covered floor and bellowed angrily, his face red.

‘For God’s sake, was you born awkward?’ He raised his hand as if to cuff the girl but Calvin grasped his wrist.

‘No harm done,’ he said easily. ‘In any case it was my fault not hers.’

‘She’s a trouble-maker, that one,’ the landlord said staring down at Arian with baleful eyes. ‘Needs teaching a lesson and I’m just the one to do it. Whatever I try to do for her, she treats me like I’m dog shit, pardon my language, sir.’

He turned to Arian, ‘Get out into the kitchen, out of my sight,’ he said. ‘I’ll deal with you later.’

Arian was removing the sacking apron from around her waist with an air of resignation. She ignored the customers and faced the landlord.

‘I’m not going to let you hit me,’ her voice was cold, ‘and I’m not coming to your bed, whatever your threats or promises, I’d rather leave here.’

‘What and go back to sleeping rough?’ The landlord sounded incredulous. ‘Nothing but a tinker you are and what I say is—’

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Jamie shouldered him aside and took Arian by the arm. ‘You are coming home with me,’ he said. ‘You know Fon wants you to stay with us, give her a hand, like.’ He gestured around the room. ‘There’s no need for you to work at this sort of job and you know it.’

‘Thank you, Jamie,’ Arian said quietly, ‘but you’ve got enough mouths to feed without me adding to your burdens. Don’t worry, I’ll soon find something else.’

‘What about working for me?’ Calvin was surprised when the words came out of his mouth. He certainly hadn’t meant to say them.

‘As what?’ Arian was looking at him with suspicion in her eyes. Calvin noticed that the lashes sweeping her cheeks when she looked away from him were dark in contrast with the lightness of her hair.

‘As a servant, what else?’ he said easily. ‘I’ve a housekeeper, new at her job, and a cook who is growing old, and both of them could do with help.’ He shrugged, ‘It’s entirely up to you. I live up at Stormhill Manor if you are interested.’

He picked up his hat and dropped some money on the damp table top. ‘Here, landlord,’ he said, ‘that should compensate you for the loss of your mug of ale.’ He smiled, ‘As for the loss of your barmaid, I don’t think you’ll mind that very much, will you?’

Outside, in the clear air, Calvin took a deep breath. What was he about, taking pity on the girl? She probably was trouble as the landlord claimed. Arian Smale had been involved in several scandals already, considering she was just a slip of a girl. He shrugged as he strode away from the hotel. Arian Smale was nothing to do with him, she could go to hell her own way for all he cared.

Arian hurried from the hotel and regardless of the bite of the rough cobbles against the thin soles of her shoes began to run after the retreating figure of Calvin Temple. His offer had been a genuine one and though she didn’t relish fetching and carrying for the rich of the town, neither did she relish the thought of sleeping outdoors again, not after having had a bed, however humble, in the upper reaches of the Castle Hotel.

‘Sir,’ she said breathlessly, ‘I’ll take the job if it’s still on offer.’