The March wind cut across the high ground, whistling and howling like a demented soul and bending the tree boughs almost to the ground. For two days now it had blown relentlessly, and Johnny began to wonder when it would let up. ‘No matter, my beauty,’ he told the powerful stallion as he led it out of the top field and towards the stables. ‘Nature has its own way, and we have a job to do all the same.’
He and the great bay hunter made a striking silhouette against the grey shifting sky as they pressed on determinedly, heads bowed to the wind. ‘She’s in the paddock waiting for you,’ he teased. ‘And we wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would we, eh?’
From the mouth of the stables, old Thomas watched while Johnny and the hunter made their descent. Behind him in the small railed paddock, the mare caught the stallion’s scent. Excited, she began rearing and pawing at the ground, impatient for her lover.
‘Whoah, there!’ Thomas called, ambling towards her. ‘Behave yerself, yer little hussy. It won’t be long now.’
‘Throwing a tantrum, is she?’ Tony Hargreaves leaned against the rail on the far side, his curious gaze going from Thomas to the mare, and back again. ‘She’s a magnificent creature,’ he said, regarding her with awe. He was a little afraid of horses. ‘Worth a bit, I’ll be bound.’ Since a boy, he had learned all there was to know about tin mines, but even though he had been wed to Teresa for almost two years now, and had visited these stables on the many occasions he and his family had stayed at her father’s house, he still knew next to nothing about horses.
‘Worth a bloody fortune more like,’ Thomas replied sharply. He was never one to change his ways, not for peasant nor gentry. It was this stubborn attitude that both endeared him to Oliver Arnold and alienated his spoiled daughter Teresa. ‘That there mare comes of top breeding stock. Belongs to a farmer the other side o’ Darwen. It’s cost him a pretty penny to put that mare with our stallion, but the offspring will be priceless. Especially if it’s a filly. Oh, aye, it’ll have blue blood running through its veins from both parents, make no mistake about that. That there stallion comes from a long line o’ champions.’
He turned to look at the mare. ‘Oh, but she’s a grand ’un, that she is.’ He let his gaze wander over her magnificent lines, from the muscular straight neck to the strong finely curved limbs. She was darkest bay in colour, with huge saucer eyes the shade of ripe chestnuts. ‘Fiery though,’ Thomas warned now. ‘When that stallion comes to serve her, you’d best stay well clear. They get too excited, y’see. Sometimes they’ll nuzzle and mate with the stallion in a matter o’ minutes, and sometimes they’ll panic and fight just like a wild woman.’ He chuckled at his many memories. ‘What! I’ve known a mare to clear an eight-foot fence an’ run like the wind afore she’d let the big fella mount her.’
At the gate, Johnny was having a job to hold back the great horse. Seeing the mare, it began fidgeting and fighting, eager to be let loose. ‘Get back, you bugger!’ It took all of Johnny’s strength to hold the animal while Thomas quickly slipped the mare inside the stable. With the top half of the door open the two of them could regard each other before mating. It was important not to let the stallion straight at the mare. With their senses heightened, and the mare in full season, that could often prove to be dangerous, and Thomas was never one for taking chances.
‘In you go then.’ As soon as Thomas had the gate wide open, Johnny brought the stallion into the paddock. ‘Easy now. Easy.’ Leaving the halter in place, he deftly slipped the rope out of the ring and let the animal have its head. ‘Get clear, Thomas,’ he instructed, and the old fella obediently crawled through the railings to watch from the other side.
‘Be careful, son,’ he warned. ‘They can be unpredictable. Especially when it’s the stallion’s first time, like now.’
At first the beast seemed unsure. It was all a new experience for him. He stamped the ground and threw his head high, shaking it from side to side, wild white eyes rolling. There was a strange silence, almost eerie, as he slowly encircled the paddock, tall and proud, every muscle taut, his limbs quivering in anticipation.
From the stable, the mare began to whinny, frantically tossing her head then sinking her teeth into the door. She was greatly agitated. ‘Go round, Thomas,’ Johnny whispered. It was on the tip of his tongue to add, ‘Be careful. Don’t send her out until I say,’ but Thomas had taught him everything he knew, and though he was a good deal slower in the body, the old fellow still had his wits about him.
Staying close to the rails, Johnny kept his eye on the stallion. Like any man in the full anticipation of passion, that magnificent creature was eager to serve his mate; his great chest was swelled with pride, and he was immensely erect, though was still uncertain, still hesitant.
Out of the corner of his eye, Johnny saw Thomas scurry round to the back door of the stables. From there he would turn the mare out when it was considered safe.
‘Is it all right for me to be here?’ Tony Hargreaves was nervous. All he wanted was an excuse to leave without seeming too much of a coward. ‘I think I’m making him wary.’ Besides, the very idea of watching these two creatures actually mating was abhorrent to him.
Johnny didn’t like the idea of a stranger being near at a time like this. ‘It might be best if you weren’t,’ he answered. ‘Like Thomas said, they can be unpredictable, and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.’ That was all the encouragement the young man needed. In no time at all he was striding away, back to the house, thankful that his father’s fortune was made in tin mines and not through the breeding of horses.
From the upper window, Teresa watched her husband enter the house. It was what she had been waiting for. With the skill of long practice, she came out on to the landing and waited until she heard the study door close behind him and then came swiftly down the stairs out into the open. Once away from the house, she went speedily towards the stables. Careful not to let either Thomas or Johnny see her, she positioned herself by the aged weeping willow. From here, and camouflaged by the long drooping branches that swept the ground, she watched and waited, her small evil eyes following Johnny’s every move.
The stallion was displaying himself, rudely exhibiting his full and glorious manhood. Still a virgin, but obviously ready for his first sexual encounter, he trembled with excitement. Reaching his thick broad neck over the stable door he nuzzled the mare, making small guttural noises in the back of his throat when she began to respond.
‘Now, Thomas. Send her out now. She’s accepted him.’ Johnny’s voice was controlled. Too loud, too intrusive, one wrong move, and it could all be spoiled.
‘There, lass… Shh, my lovely.’ Thomas edged himself nearer. The mare knew him. She trusted him. ‘Out you go.’
Slowly, he swung the door open. At first she was reluctant to leave the safety of her enclosure. But then, suddenly, she was out, free in the paddock, head high, nostrils flared, her every limb ready for flight. ‘Easy now. Easy girl.’ Thomas pushed the stable door to, but he didn’t throw the bolt. If she took panic, it was best for her to retreat into the stable rather than jump the fence and injure herself.
There was a deal of snorting and nuzzling, breathing into each other’s nostrils and putting eyeball to eyeball. Now the stallion was stalking her, his huge black eyes wide and staring. He was big and hard, ready to take her. She pushed him with her nose, a winsome smile on her handsome face, but still he wasn’t quite sure. He stalked her again and brushed against her lightly, then stepped proudly round the paddock, pretending not to notice her. She called out to him. He went to her, nuzzling nose to nose at first then gently sniffing her rear end. Shivering with delight, she raised her tail high, inviting him, persistently calling. Suddenly he was up in the air, throwing himself over her, thrusting his huge body forwards. He fell and thrashed about, climbing on and falling off, growing more and more frustrated, his hooves clawing at her back, making long jagged marks.
‘He’s a clumsy bugger!’ Thomas called out. ‘Yer can tell he ain’t done it afore.’ He watched as the stallion tried and tried again. The confused animal had no trouble mounting but couldn’t penetrate, and while he fumbled the mare was being cut and torn. ‘You’ll have to help him, Johnny,’ he cried. ‘Afore she’s cut to buggery.’ In his younger days Thomas had been called on more than once to help a young stallion in distress, but it was a dangerous job and a man needed to be strong and quick. These days he was no match for the brute if it should turn nasty. Johnny could do it, though. He knew how.
Johnny didn’t need telling twice. He had seen with his own eyes that the mare was not only being cut, but that she was growing impatient. Any minute now she would turn on the stallion and that could lead to all hell being let loose. ‘Stay back,’ he warned, and Thomas instinctively stepped away a pace.
Slowly and carefully, Johnny made his way to the centre of the paddock where the two animals were wildly thrashing about. Exhausted, the mare would tear away, then the stallion would follow to try again. He was confused now, and growing angry. From behind Johnny could hear Thomas warning him to ‘Be careful, lad. For God’s sake, be careful.’
He had to let it be known that he was advancing. Horses in particular do not like being taken by surprise. ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured. ‘Shh, easy does it now.’ The mare turned her big soulful eyes on him, but the stallion clung to her back, thrusting his powerful bulk against her haunches and growing more and more frantic. The sweat was teeming down his body, glistening like dew against the darkness of his coat.
‘It’s all right, my beauty. Easy now.’ Johnny waited until the stallion had seen him before coming in from the side, all the while murmuring soothing words, coaxing and encouraging the great handsome beast.
He was so close now he could feel the animal’s warm breath fanning the back of his neck. His skin crept with fear. If the stallion was to fall on him, he would be crushed like an eggshell.
‘Easy, boy. It’s all right.’ His voice was like a caress, soothing the irate creature who looked sideways at Johnny as though he knew the man was there to help. ‘All right, fella. It’s all right. The stallion snorted, flicking his tail angrily. Skillfully, Johnny guided him into position. The next thrust struck home and the mare cried out. But she stood her ground, throwing her head high and pushing against her mate.
Quickly now Johnny sprang out of the way. Even before he got back to the rails, where he washed his hands at the trough, it was all over. ‘He’ll know how to do it next time,’ Thomas chuckled.
‘I hope so,’ Johnny replied, relieved. ‘I wouldn’t want to do that again.’
‘Sometimes we have to do the unpleasant,’ Thomas said. ‘He’s young yet, but he’ll learn. All we can hope is that there’ll be a lovely foal for all our troubles.’
Soon the mare was safely stabled, settled with a bucket of beet until her owner came to collect her. The stallion was released into the field where he could run off any excess energy, and Thomas and Johnny set about their other many duties before retiring for a well-earned break.
From her vantage point beneath the willow tree Teresa watched until the two men were out of sight. Afterwards, she strolled back to the house, a devious smile on her handsome face. What she had seen was still vivid on her mind, and she ached for a man. She ached for Johnny. He was still in her blood. He always would be.
At the front of the house, she paused to look back. In the distance she could see the two familiar figures: Thomas was going into the stables, while Johnny strode off in the direction of the spinney. She was sorely tempted, and might even have followed him, but just then her husband came to the door with the child in his arms.
‘Oh! There you are, my dear,’ he said with a broad smile. ‘We’ve been looking for you.’ He glanced at the child, a fine healthy boy with dark eyes and a bright lively face. ‘We should spend a little time with our son before your brother and his intended come calling.’
‘Oh, hell!’ She stamped her foot. ‘I’d forgotten all about Luke and that dreadful Cicely Banks.’
‘Don’t be churlish, my dear. If you ask me, they make a splendid couple.’ He held the boy out to her, and the child reached up his arms, waiting to be taken.
‘Nobody’s asking you!’ she snapped, brushing past the pair of them. ‘I’m going to my room, and don’t disturb me until you have to.’
At the foot of the stairs she crossed paths with her father. ‘I’ve got a headache, she said in a pitiful voice, at the same time tenderly stroking her fingers over her brow. ‘I have to lie down for a while.’ Looking at him with beseeching eyes, she pleaded, ‘Must I come down when Luke arrives?’
Oliver Arnold had seen it all before, and he was not moved. ‘Of course you must,’ he insisted. ‘Isn’t this the very reason I asked you and your family here this weekend… to celebrate the fact that your brother is shortly to wed? There are all manner of things to be discussed. And besides, I have a little announcement of my own to make.’
He wasn’t surprised when she turned on her heel and rushed up the stairs without another word. Teresa was sullen. He had come to expect it of her.
At the sound of running feet, he swung round. Ida flung herself into his arms. ‘Daddy! Do you think Luke and Cicely will let me be bridesmaid?’ she asked, nestling into the curve of his arm.
‘I shall insist on it,’ he joked, and she flushed with happiness. ‘Tony’s in the drawing-room,’ she said. ‘He told me that Teresa had gone to bed with a headache.’ She made a face. ‘I don’t believe it. I think she’s hiding from Cicely and Luke.’
‘Now why would she want to do that?’ It wasn’t right that Ida should think such things, even if they were true.
‘Because she’s already told me she doesn’t like Cicely.’ ‘Nonsense. She hardly knows the poor girl.’
Ida giggled. ‘Teresa doesn’t have to know anyone to dislike them.’ She looked up at him with adoring eyes, ‘I think Cicely’s sweet. And I think she’s too good for Luke.’
‘That’s a harsh thing to say.’ He was careful not to admit that the very same thought had crossed his own mind. They were coming to the drawing-room now, and when she drew away from him, he went directly to the settee and plucked the boy from its depths. ‘And how is my grandson then?’ He hadn’t got used to being a grandfather, and spoke to the child as he would to a business colleague. Ida giggled again, and Tony looked on with amusement. He was a good man, but his love for Teresa put him at her mercy.
No one heard the boy’s nanny enter until her crisp voice announced: ‘I’ll take the boy upstairs for his bath now.’ She crossed the room with long strides and bundled the child out of Oliver’s arms. There was no resistance — not from the father, and not from the grandfather. This capable woman’s authority was unquestionable and essential to the boy’s well-being, especially since his mother took little or no interest in him.
When the door closed behind her, Ida informed the men, ‘I’m going to ask if I can help. If she won’t let me help, then I’ll just watch.’
‘Go ahead, child,’ Oliver told her. ‘Tony and I have things to talk over.’ For two days now, ever since his daughter and her family came to stay, he had been quietly mulling over two matters in particular. First, he had seen how despicably Teresa treated both her husband and son, and intended to rebuke his son-in-law for allowing it. Second, he had a mind to settle a few business issues, and as Tony was a sensible young man, thought to seek his opinion; although having already spoken to his own solicitor, his mind was made up and could not be changed. He knew that
Teresa would not like what he had to announce that evening, but then she was altogether a contrary person. Besides, he believed that what he was about to propose was fair to all parties concerned.
At six-thirty, Luke arrived, disheveled and unusually merry. It was obvious to all that he had been drinking.
‘Good heavens man, you ought to have more sense!’ Oliver was furious as he propelled his son straight upstairs. In fact, he began to wonder whether he had made the right decision after all. Perhaps he should postpone the planned announcement? ‘Where in God’s name have you been since yesterday? Have you forgotten your future wife and her father are joining us for dinner in less than two hours?’
‘Don’t worry, Father,’ Luke said charmingly. ‘By the time our guests arrive, I shall be both sober and handsomely turned out.’ Falling against his father he giggled like a schoolboy. ‘I promise you’ll be proud of me.’
Disgusted, Oliver gave no reply. Instead, he opened his son’s bedroom door and pushed him in, ordering in a hard voice, ‘You’re a fool! I’ll send up a pot of black coffee. Drink it! After that you’d better get some sleep. I’ll see to it that you’re woken in good time.’ He swept a disgusted glance over him. ‘I thought I would never again see you like this.’
Even with his mind fuddled, Luke realised he had gone too far. These past months he’d been careful not to bring his drinking home with him, staying overnight wherever he could lay his head, and presenting a responsible and sober image to his father the next day. Last night, though, the thought that he would soon be marrying one woman when he desperately craved another was suddenly too much for him. He had tried to escape the reality of it by skulking off to Manchester where he had availed himself of the first whore who offered. After that he sought solace in drink, then another and another, until he fell into a stupor. All night and all day today he had lain in that hotel bed, thinking and cursing, not wanting to come back, yet knowing he had no choice. Finally, he dragged himself down to the bar where he gulped down two hairs of the dog that bit him, then another, and another, until he had enough courage to face the celebrations.
‘I’m truly sorry, Father,’ he lied. ‘It’s the thought of wedding bells, I expect.’ He grinned. ‘I’ve never been a husband before.’
He could see his father softening, and he played on it. ‘I’m nervous,’ he admitted. ‘I expect you were, when you got married?’ For a moment Oliver was taken aback, thinking he might have been too hard on his son. After all, Luke’s behaviour had been exemplary of late. He was showing a surprisingly responsible attitude where the business was concerned, and had found himself an eminently suitable woman. Cicely Banks was a good catch by any standard.
‘All right, son,’ he said, placing a friendlier hand on his shoulder. ‘I do understand. Marriage is a big step in a man’s life, and I can see how it would make you nervous.’ He laughed. ‘Come to think of it, yes, I do believe I felt the very same.’ His face grew grim then. ‘However, I can’t recollect going away to get quietly drunk.’
‘It won’t happen again.’ Luke was secretly gloating. He had won, and it was his father who was the fool.
‘See that it doesn’t,’ Oliver warned. Yet again he had found a reason to forgive his only son. But he comforted himself with the knowledge that a man usually only wed once. It might be as well for Luke to sow any wild oats now, before he was finally committed to the sanctity of marriage.
When Cicely and her father arrived at precisely eight o’clock, Luke greeted them at the door. Just as he had promised, he was both sober and well presented, looking quite debonair in a dark suit with silk waistcoat and white embroidered shirt.
‘Oh, Cicely, you look lovely,’ he murmured, kissing her dutifully on the mouth. The fact that she did indeed look very pretty in a new soft grey dress with little pearl buttons at the throat, was of no interest at all to him. He was playing a part, and he played it with practised skill. ‘How do you do, Mr Banks?’ he said, extending a friendly hand to his future father-in-law. ‘It’s good to see you. I’m sure we’re going to have a wonderful evening.’
‘Thank you, son.’
Jeffrey Banks felt suitably proud that his daughter had the good sense to find herself such an agreeable and accomplished young man. The word was already out that, on the occasion of this forthcoming wedding, Oliver Arnold intended making part of the business over to his son. If that was the case, then Cicely’s future was indeed secure, because where Jeffrey himself had one foundry, Oliver Arnold had many more. In fact, only this year he had secured the deeds to yet another, not in Blackburn but situated in the heart of the Midlands.
Maids came and went, carrying in a tray here, taking out another there, emptying the ashtrays into long funnel-like objects and hovering discreetly, ready to pander to the smallest whim. This was their place in life and they prided themselves on their talent for cossetting the gentry. As for the gentry themselves, waiting for dinner to be served was a pleasant enough pastime, a short interlude for aperitifs and small talk in the drawing-room, a time when barriers were broken down and everyone put at ease.
Luke and Cicely were seated on the settee, Teresa and her husband occupied the two armchairs, and the two older men stood with their backs to the great fireplace. The general conversation ran through the state of the nation, the problems of running a large household, business in general and the workforce in particular. Wedding plans were at the fore, and yet another key issue was lightly touched on when Jeffrey Banks outlined his plans for a complete overhaul of safety and welfare at his plant.
‘Oh, I agree,’ said Oliver, feverishly nodding his head. ‘It’s becoming more and more important to stay ahead of all these blasted rules and regulations which seem to overwhelm us these days. But then, of course, it is an employer’s moral responsibility to look after the men in his building.’ He went on to describe how he himself had instigated an expensive programme whereby: ‘Starting with the main foundry, which will be the essential prototype, every aged beam and platform in all my foundries will be replaced within two years. Like yourself, I produce only the finest steel. He sighed long and deep. ‘Steel is only as good as the metals you introduce into it, and you must know it costs a fortune to buy in nickel, tungsten, manganese and the like. However, these elements are essential, are they not? So it goes without saying that if you want to produce good strong steel, you have to pay the market prices for the ingredients.’
Much to everyone’s embarrassment, Cicely interrupted. ‘Much like baking a cake, I think,’ she said, growing quiet when her statement drew blank faces. ‘I mean, your cake is only as good as the ingredients you put in,’ she finished lamely.
Oliver broke the uncomfortable silence. ‘Quite, my dear,’ he said with an encouraging look. Continuing, he addressed himself to Jeffrey Banks, ‘Of course, all our best iron and steel is being put aside to provide a whole new interior structure.’ He glanced proudly at Luke. ‘Isn’t that right, son?’ On an affirmative answer from Luke, he went on proudly, ‘These days I come to rely on this young man more and more.’ He beamed at his son and Luke went up in Jeffrey Banks’s estimation by the minute.
During dinner there was an underlying air of conspiracy, particularly between Teresa and her brother. In spite of her husband’s bid to draw her into the social spirit of the evening, Teresa sulked from the moment she sat down. Embarrassed by this hostile reception, yet eager to make it apparent that she was open to friendship, Cicely smiled sweetly at one and all The two elder men were soon deep in conversation, and Luke busied himself by heaping attention on his intended, making her blush and giggle in turn. To all intents and purposes he was in love, and there was no doubt that he was the perfect gentleman
Only Teresa knew his little game, and she watched him with amusement all evening long, occasionally catching his eye with a sly little grin that sent shivers of fear down his spine. He knew what a predatory animal she could be, and cursed himself for having confided in her when he had been the worse for drink. Consequently she knew his inner thoughts: how he was marrying Cicely only for monetary and power gains. She knew also that he still nurtured a dark loathing of their father and that he was obsessed with taking revenge. That was partly why he had connived with other weak and deceitful creatures to rob his father by selling out the top-grade steel which was earmarked for the interior construction work, then buying in second-rate pig-iron and skimming off the money that should have gone to pay for vital quantities of other metals needed to produce first-grade steel.
It wasn’t only revenge that prompted Luke to commit such a foolhardy and dangerous act. Nor was it the fact that he had cunningly betrayed his father’s trust. There was another motive and that was insatiable greed. The more he had, the more he wanted, and the more his loathing of his father ate away at him. He could not forget how he had suffered deep shame and humiliation when his father took him out of school and forced him to be educated at home, alongside his younger sisters. Marrying Cicely Banks would give him the means whereby he might prove his own superiority, and eventually strip his father of everything he owned.
Besides revenge and money, and the power that would come with it there was one other need that drove him, and that was the need for a woman. Not the many women he had bedded and discarded; they were nothing but a pastime to him, something to keep him amused while he plotted and schemed. The woman he wanted was Ruby, and as yet she was unattainable. But already he was working and scheming to the day when she would beg him to take her Unlike the indomitable maid, whose love and devotion for Cicely was her own weakness, he saw Cicely as only a pawn by which he might realise all his heart’s desires.
Apart from Ruby’s identity, Teresa knew all of this, and he could never be certain whether she might betray him. But then he suspected she had her own secrets – the child for one whom he knew was not Tony’s son. If she ever made life difficult for him he would see to it that she was made an outcast. The thought amused him as he returned her devious little smile. Such an air of confidence appeared to confuse her. Satisfied, he attended to his meal with a heightened appetite.
Dishes of steamed fish and succulent vegetables were served on the finest china plates. Then followed soufflés and a meringue that melted in the mouth. Best wine was poured into long crystal glasses, and as it flowed, conversation quickened, embracing everyone, even Teresa, who was mellowed by the drink. All in all, everyone had a splendid time, and soon it was time for the main announcement.
‘Take up your glasses,’ Luke called, rising to his feet, ‘and drink a toast to my lovely Cicely.’
Everyone’s eyes turned to Cicely, who was visibly shrinking with delight and embarrassment. ‘Come, my dear,’ he invited. ‘Stand beside me.’ In a moment she was pressing against him and he, pretending to enjoy her nearness, announced in a cool strong voice, ‘Cicely and I have considered our respective fathers’ wishes and have now chosen a date for the marriage.’ He bent to place a gossamer kiss on her upturned face before going on grandly, ‘The date is to be the fourteenth of June, less than three months from now.’
There followed a rush of congratulations. In anticipation, Oliver had already ordered the very best wine to be brought up from the cellars and made ready. Once this was poured, all glasses were raised and the toast was given by Oliver himself: ‘To Cicely and Luke.’
When Luke saw that Teresa was slyly smiling, his own smugness fell away, and he wondered furiously what could be done about her…
‘If you will all remain standing,’ Oliver’s voice rang out now, ‘I have a special announcement of my own to make.’ All eyes were on him as he continued, ‘For some time I have been considering the prospect of taking life a little easier. Up to now, it has been unthinkable. Like you, Jeffrey,’ he nodded in the direction of Cicely’s father, ‘my life is fraught with responsibilities. However, now that my son has achieved an age when he can be trusted implicitly to execute his duties to the full, I have come to a decision.’
He paused, gazing round the sea of faces that all stared at him, Jeffrey Banks’s with surprised interest, Cicely with politeness, Teresa with amused curiosity, and Tony Hargreaves playing his fingers against the tablecloth until Teresa put a warning hand over his knuckles and shrivelled him with one dark look.
Luke gave his full and undivided attention to what was being said. His mouth was half open, his astonished brain rapidly assimilating his father’s words and daring to believe that he was about to be put in sole charge of the business. ‘In giving Luke a free hand with regard to these new safety measures at the first plant, I wasn’t quite certain whether it would be something I might come to regret. In the event, I am more than delighted. He has proved himself to be keen and conscientious. He has a natural winning way with the men, and all reports show him to be immensely capable of stepping into my shoes so to speak.’ He turned to his son and raised his glass. ‘You’ve done well.
‘Thank you, Father.’ Luke sounded suitably humble.
Replacing his glass on the table, Oliver went on, ‘I want it to be known that there was a time when I despaired of my only son. On more than one occasion after his mother died, I was summoned to his school and asked to take him off the premises. There was then no choice but to educate my son with his younger sisters… a grinding humiliation for any young man. But he rose above it admirably, and now I have a son to be proud of. I’m a very lucky man.’ He glanced down at the tablecloth, reliving those bad days and thanking God they were over.
In that moment, Luke was also reliving the same memories. And because his father was making his humiliation known to strangers, his hatred for Oliver knew no bounds. When all attention was turned now to him, he was outwardly calm and smiling. Inside, though, he was seething. However, his father’s next words made him stiffen with excitement.
‘On the day of his marriage to the lovely Cicely, I intend to take a back seat and hand over a greater proportion of the business into Luke’s hands. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t find himself in sole charge before his first wedding anniversary. I think I’m about ready to hand over the reins.’ He had been standing proud and uptight, but now his whole body seemed to sag as he relaxed; Oliver had been feeling his age for some time now, and with the announcement that he was about to relinquish a deal of responsibility, it was as though the weight of the world had fallen from his shoulders. ‘Of course, if Luke had not made the announcement with regard to his forthcoming marriage, I would not be making this announcement either,’ he confessed. ‘He is still young yet, but, when a man takes on the responsibility of a wife he shows himself to be mature.’
Teresa addressed her father then, goading him as always. ‘What you’re saying is… no marriage, no directorship?’ An awkward silence settled over the party.
‘Yes.’ Oliver was wise to her. ‘That is precisely what I’m saying my dear.
‘And what about me?’ She laughed lightly, but her dark eyes glittered. ‘Do I have a share?’
‘You’re a woman,’ he replied. He too was smiling. It was like a game being played out. ‘Besides, why would you want to bother your pretty little head about such things when you have a husband to care for you?’
Impatient to assert his manhood, Tony spoke out. ‘Quite right, sir, he acknowledged. Addressing Teresa, he told her, ‘While I’m alive, and even if I were to die tomorrow, you and our son will always be well cared for, my darling.’
She gave no reply, but glared at him. Later she would have her say, and he would regret putting her down in that way in front of everyone.
Teresa nursed her bitterness until it was time for the guests to leave. While Oliver and Jeffrey led the way into the hall, with Cicely and Luke trailing behind – Luke inwardly sickened when Cicely clung to him like a limpet – Teresa drew the affable Tony to one side where, out of earshot of the others, she laid into him with a vicious tongue.
‘Goodnight then, Oliver.’
The maid held out his coat and Jeffrey Banks shrugged his thick shoulders into it. Then, extending a hand in farewell, he informed his host, ‘It’s been a fascinating and enjoyable evening.’ Behind him, Luke dutifully saw to it that Cicely was wrapped against the night air. When she raised her face for a kiss he cringed inside. By making this marriage a condition of his being given greater authority, his father had made him a prisoner and Luke blamed Cicely for it.
‘I’ll walk you to your carriage,’ Oliver told his guests. ‘It’s been a pleasant evening all round, I think,’ he added benevolently. The atmosphere was altogether congenial. The two men sauntered through the open doorway and out to the waiting carriage. Cicely and Luke followed at a discreet distance. ‘I’m proud that your son and my daughter are to be man and wife,’ Oliver confessed. ‘There was a time when I thought we might be bitter enemies, you and I.’
Jeffrey reflected on that and knew how true it was. ‘Ah, but fate has a way of intervening,’ he said profoundly. Oliver nodded in agreement and they proceeded in silence.
In no time at all, Cicely and her father were seated in the carriage and being driven away at a sedate pace. From the back window Cicely waved, her shining eyes focused on the figure of her future husband. Instead of returning her wave he turned away, thankful that the awful episode was over.
‘Good night, son. I’m a little weary so I’ll go straight to my bed.’ Oliver went up the wide staircase and was soon lost to sight. Luke went into the drawing-room where he poured himself a stiff brandy. He drank it down in one gulp, shaking his head and gasping when it burned his throat. Tonight had been an ordeal. ‘Thank God that’s over!’ he murmured. Yet he knew there would be many more ordeals like that, and he dreaded them.
‘Poor little brother!’ Teresa’s voice emanated from a high-backed chair, startling Luke out of his wits. She had seen him come in, and had watched while he threw the drink down his throat. She had heard his comment, and it pleased her immensely.
‘What the devil are you playing at?’ he demanded, his face drained white. She merely continued to gaze at him, a half empty glass of gin in her hand and her eyes glazed over. It was obvious she was drunk.
‘He’s got you, hasn’t he?’ She laughed, a wicked sound that made him want to strangle her. ‘Father has you pinned to the ground at last.’
What are you talking about?’ He looked at her with disgust. ‘You’re drunk.’
Shaking her head, she assured him, ‘No, I’m not drunk, brother dear.’
He recalled her bitter words at the table. It made him smile. ‘You’re jealous, aren’t you?’ he demanded.
Inflamed by his manner, she sat bolt upright in the chair. ‘Yes, I’m jealous, and rightly so!’
‘Don’t be silly, Teresa. You’re well looked after. Your husband’s a wealthy man. Besides, I’m the only son.’ He enjoyed watching her squirm. ‘Whatever comes to me, will be mine by right.’
She stared at him for a long moment, then said in a crafty voice, ‘Suppose I were to tell him a few things? He might not be so trusting then, or so generous.’
Taking a threatening step towards her, he asked, ‘What things? There is nothing you could say that would turn him against me.’ He was bluffing. He still wasn’t certain how much she knew.
What would he do, I wonder, if he knew how much you hated him? And don’t you think he would lose faith in you altogether if he was to find out that you mean to use the gullible Cicely only so as to lay your hands on her father’s business, then use that to get back at Father? Once you had that kind of money and power, you wouldn’t stop until you had everything he owned. You would even take the shirt off his back, and see him out on the street beggared. Isn’t that so?’ She lay back in the chair, keeping her eyes fixed on his shocked face. ‘As a dutiful daughter, I should warn him against you, don’t you think?’
‘You stupid little fool!’ Luke had no doubts now. She did know enough to ruin all of his plans. ‘Why would I want to do all that? You heard him say that he intends to turn more and more over to me. In time I’ll have it all. Doesn’t that make a nonsense of your vicious lies?’
She laughed out loud. ‘Really! You must think I was born yesterday.’ Her dark handsome eyes flashed a warning. ‘You know as well as I do that Father won’t turn everything over to you. It will be a long time before he steps out of the picture altogether. And besides, even the greater responsibility he might put on you will be subject to your marrying Cicely.’ She curled up, hugging herself and laughing at his misfortune. ‘That’s what I meant when I said he’s got you where he wants you,’ she reminded him. ‘You heard me ask him was it no marriage, no directorship, and you heard his answer. The plain truth is, dear brother, if you don’t wed your little mouse, you won’t get any part of Father’s business.’
She could see how her every word cut him deep, and she revelled in his pain. ‘You’re stuck with her, aren’t you? What a great pity… to be stuck with someone you hate almost as much as you hate Father.’
‘What makes you say I hate Cicely?’ He was trembling now. ‘I’m marrying her, aren’t I?’ At least she knew nothing of his plan to use Cicely as bait in order to have the lovely Ruby.
‘Huh! You haven’t got any choice now, have you? Besides, you forget how drink loosens the tongue. You yourself told me that you love someone else. But whoever she is, she doesn’t want you, does she? You told me that too.’ She struggled from the depths of the chair and sat unsteadily on its edge. ‘Wise woman,’ she laughed, staring up at him with evil eyes. ‘You shouldn’t have told me all these things, Luke. You know what a wicked bastard I can be.’ Taunting him further, she wanted to know: ‘This woman who appears to have stolen your wicked heart… who is she?’
‘A better woman than you. That’s all you need to know.’
‘Father would get it out of you.’
‘Breathe a word to him, and I’ll kill you!’
She regarded him in a different light then, her gaze going from his head to his toes. ‘I believe you would,’ she said presently. ‘Especially if I were to tell him of my suspicions regarding the other matter.’
His heart was pounding. For God’s sake! How much had he told her that night when he was drunk? ‘What the hell are you talking about now?’
‘You,’ she replied carefully. ‘I’m talking about you and the responsibility he’s already foolishly given you.’ She paused, making him wait. She wasn’t as sure of her facts as she would have him believe. So far, all she had were suspicions. She tutted and shook her head, making him think she knew a great deal more than she actually did.
‘You’re such a deceitful young man, aren’t you? I mean, here you are, being trusted with a very important task, and you can’t even do that without robbing him blind.’ She grew excited when Luke went a pale shade of grey. So! She was nearer the truth than she’d first realised. ‘Wouldn’t Father be outraged if he thought you weren’t carrying out his instructions to the letter? You’re playing a dangerous game, Luke.’ She might have said more but wasn’t sure of the facts, although she was now convinced that he was up to something.
‘What dangerous game?’ He began to sense that she was fishing, and he had to call her bluff.
‘What does it matter?’ she asked evasively. ‘All that really matters is that I’m duty bound to relate all of this to Father.’
‘Do that.’ He put on his boldest front. ‘And while we’re at it, I’ll tell him a few home truths about you.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as the fact that his grandson is a bastard.’
It was her turn to suffer. ‘LIAR!’ She sprang from the chair to confront him. In her haste she spilled her drink. ‘You’ve no right to say such a thing! Tony is the boy’s father, and you can’t prove otherwise.’
‘Don’t deny it,’ he told her, adding cautiously, ‘Tony is not the father. You know it, and I know it.’ He bent forward and smiled into her face, saying cunningly, ‘Whose is it, I wonder?’ Feigning surprise, he asked in a whisper, ‘Could it be that Johnny Ackroyd is the father?’ He gave a long low whistle. ‘Wouldn’t that make juicy gossip now? Oliver Arnold’s daughter being bedded by a groom, and passing the bastard off as the respectable Tony Hargreaves’s?’ He widened his eyes until they were round and astonished. ‘What! If that was to get about, your devoted husband would turn his back on you like you were so much dirt. And if he was foolish enough to let you wrap him round your little finger, old Mr Hargreaves would pauper the pair of you.’
She was frantic. ‘It’s not true!’ she yelled, thumping at his chest with clenched fists. ‘Tony is the father.’
‘Really?’ He grabbed her wrists, squeezing them so hard that she actually cried out. ‘I suppose that was what you told Father?’
‘Because it’s true.’ She was struggling but he wouldn’t let go.
Suddenly, contemptuously, he threw her backwards into the chair. In a moment he had departed the room, leaving her with the threat: ‘Open your mouth with one bad word against me, and I promise your name will be sullied from one end of Lancashire to the other. You’ll have nothing by the time I’ve finished with you.’
‘Bastard!’ she muttered. But his secrets were safe for the while, because she knew he meant every word. If he set his mind to ruining her, he would do it without the slightest compunction.
Hurrying to the door, she slammed it shut and leaned against it, regaining her composure and letting his threat turn over in her mind. Suddenly, she began laughing. Crossing the room on unsteady footsteps, she went to the dresser where she poured herself a large measure of spirit.
‘Cheers, you bastard!’ she said, raising her glass to the door. A second drink, then another, before she slumped in the chair. Dark vengeful thoughts pervaded her mind. Laughter turned to tears. Not because of the shocking scene which had happened here, nor of the awful exchange that had passed between herself and Luke, whom she secretly admired. She was crying for that which she had lost: her freedom, her secret need of a real man. And that man was Johnny.
Every minute of every day and night he was on her mind. He was on her mind now. And he was in her dreams when her anxious husband came down the stairs to look for her.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ he moaned, taking her sleeping form in his arms and helping her gently to their room. ‘When will I ever understand you?’