Authors: Tania Anne Crosse
Elliott came back in with the tray. ‘Help yourself. I know you love books. You can borrow anything you want.’
Ling stiffened. ‘No. I don’t think I’d better. Barney, you see.’
‘Ah.’ Elliott nodded knowingly as the dark cloud passed between them. Of course. They would have to be careful. ‘That doesn’t stop you looking at them now though. Who’s your favourite?’
‘Oh, heavens, I don’t know. I love Dickens, but Hardy’s lighter to read.’
‘Have you read his new one?
Tess of the D’Urbervilles
? Extraordinary, they say.’
‘No, I haven’t seen a copy of it yet.’ She grinned at him across the room, ignoring the thought that Barney had never succeeded in reading a complete book in his life and dismissed poetry as silly rubbish. To know that Elliott appreciated good authors was simply another star among the myriad reasons why she felt so uplifted in his company. She withdrew a small volume of Shakespeare’s sonnets and, climbing back on to the bed, opened it randomly and began to read aloud.
Elliott listened intently, nodding in appreciation. ‘That was really good,’ he commented when she had finished. ‘It isn’t easy to read Shakespeare aloud and get the sense of it properly, especially if you haven’t seen it before. Unless you picked one out you already knew?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Ling answered, basking in pride. And then the old mischief that hadn’t been there for years suddenly sparkled in her eyes. ‘Now it’s your turn!’ she cried in glee.
Elliott puffed out his cheeks evasively. ‘Well, no, I don’t think so.’
‘You don’t get away with it that easily!’ Ling chortled, and taking up the pillow behind her, began to pound him with it.
‘Right!’ Elliott grabbed the other pillow, fighting back as he roared with laughter. Ling leapt up with a squeal and he chased her around the room until they collapsed together back on the bed in a helpless, giggling muddle.
‘Oh, dear, just look at my lovely, tidy room,’ Elliott said and sighed at length as their frolicking subsided.
‘I’m sorry,’ Ling spluttered with mock sympathy, her forefinger pressed over her lips to contain her next threatening guffaw. But, in that instant, she caught sight of the clock on the mantelpiece and her joviality was at once extinguished. ‘I’ll have to go soon, Elliott.’
His face fell. ‘Yes, I expect you will. But have your tea first, and I’ll bring up some hot water. I expect you’d like to freshen up.’
Ling turned to him, cupping his cheek in her hand. ‘Dear Elliott. You think of everything.’
His mouth moved into a rueful smile as he turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand. ‘That’s because I love you and I want you to come again. You will, won’t you? I mean, we don’t have to . . . We can just talk. Be friends.’
She lifted her eyes, a slow, upward sweep of her long, chestnut lashes. ‘Of course I’ll come,’ she whispered through the sudden swelling in her throat.
‘Where the devil have you been?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Barney,’ Ling said, pacifying him as she removed the jacket that only hours earlier Elliott had peeled enticingly from her shoulders. ‘I missed the train and had to wait for the next one.’
She wondered at the confidence in her voice, not even feeling a pang of remorse. But it was true. She
had
missed the train, except that she had done so deliberately so that she could spend a little longer with Elliott. She had sat by the window in the carriage on the second leg of the journey as the engine chugged up to Princetown. The savage beauty of the moor seemed heightened by the exhilaration that still beat in her breast. It wasn’t just Elliott’s sensitive, thoughtful caresses that had made the sexual act beautiful for her; it was everything about him. And it hadn’t been until she’d begun the long walk from Princetown back to Foggintor that she had thought of Barney and Fanny and baby Laura, and of how she was deceiving them.
She tied on her apron to help Fanny prepare the evening meal. ‘Have you had a good day?’ she asked casually.
‘Oh, yes.’ Fanny blushed faintly. ‘Sam and me took Laura to see the train go past at his midday break. ’Twas the first time she’s been that close, and she weren’t the least bit afeared. And what about Mrs Penrith? Is she better?’
‘Oh, yes, much. We went down to the town this afternoon and forgot the time, so you can judge how much better she is.’
The lie had come so easily, it astounded her. She had even swiftly calculated that Fanny had not been on the train down to Tavistock since Laura was born and so was unlikely to do so for months. And, by then, any details of Ling’s visits would have been forgotten by Agnes Penrith, in the unlikely event of the subject cropping up in their conversation.
Since Laura’s birth and Sam’s increasing interest, Fanny had not only matured but appeared to have discovered a deep and satisfying contentment. She might have arrived there via a tortuous route but Ling envied her. She had a beautiful baby daughter, a good man she was free to marry if and when Sam asked her, and she had no aspirations beyond a happy, homely life. Ling on the other hand . . .
Nature had denied her the joy of a child and she was married to, well, when all was said and done, the wrong man. A good man and true, oh, she knew that! But unsuitable. And now she was having to lie and deceive to snatch those few hours of blissful fulfilment, and the guilt and frustration were clawing at her until her conscience was ripped to shreds.
Ling watched as Elliott’s eyes widened with a rapturous sparkle. ‘Ling! I wasn’t expecting you until this afternoon. If at all. Oh, come in!’
Ling stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and, for several seconds, they contemplated each other in enchanted silence until Elliott took her in his arms and their lips met in a long, sensuous kiss.
‘Well, it isn’t a definite arrangement I have with Agnes,’ Ling breathed when Elliott finally released her. ‘I thought I’d spend the whole day with you instead.’
Elliott released a sigh of elation. ‘Oh! Well!’ he said with a laugh. ‘I was doing my cleaning, but what a wonderful excuse not to. The consulting room’s finished, though, which is the most important. Oh, this is fantastic. A whole day together! What shall we do?’
His joyous, youthful smile had banished the knot of guilt that had persisted in Ling’s chest throughout the journey, but now the niggling doubt slithered back into her mind like an evil serpent. ‘Well, we can’t go out, can we? People know you. And they’d be curious to know who I am.’
Elliott shrugged his eyebrows. ‘Does that matter? I may be a doctor, but I
am
allowed to have friends. Even female ones.’ He took her hands, lifting them to his lips and kissing them fervently. ‘No one’s to know that I love you.’
‘But what if anyone sees me coming here so often?’
‘Then I’ll say you’re my weekly housekeeper!’ Elliott declared, with a flash of inspiration.
‘Even more reason for us not to be seen out together. You’d hardly step out with your housekeeper.’
Elliott’s mouth closed in a soft curve, his eyes seeming to reach deep into hers. ‘If you feel happier staying indoors then, of course, we shall. And I certainly won’t object to spending the whole day in bed with you.’
Ling lowered her eyes as she felt the colour flush into her cheeks, and Elliott bent down, twisting his head to come into her line of vision. His gaze was mildly teasing, cajoling, and she couldn’t help but smile at his boyish antics.
‘Well, I’m not sure about
all
day—’
His mouth on hers silenced her words, the soft, moist contact at once spearing the exquisite, delicious tension to the hidden place between her thighs, which began to pulse with the demand to be satisfied. Elliott suddenly swept her off her feet and carried her swiftly up the stairs. All hesitation was flung to the wind, and she was laughing helplessly, kicking her legs in feigned resistance, as Elliott struggled to turn the doorknob without putting her down.
‘You don’t make it easy for a chap, do you?’ he grumbled, which made her fight back so hard that he staggered across the room and the pair of them fell on to the bed in a writhing, laughing tangle.
Ling felt freed, as if she had burst into a new enchanted, captivating life. Elliott’s gleaming eyes narrowed, sending the thrill of expectation through Ling’s veins as he slowly started to undress her, taking his time, turning her this way and that to give his full attention to each inch of her as it became exposed. Ling lay obediently, her normal reserve totally forsaking her. There was something so pure, so tender in the way Elliott was enticing her, drawing her body to the height of sensitivity, that she felt no shame when she finally lay naked on the bed. His eyes and his hands explored every intimate detail of her until she was on fire with desire, and she tugged at his clothes, stripping them off until she was able to take the deep and unexpected pleasure of scrutinizing him in return. The stroking, the kisses, the trailing of moist tongues across bare, throbbing flesh spiralled to a frenzy, and the roaring joy that convulsed inside her was even more powerful than the last time Elliott had opened her senses to such passionate glory.
They lay side by side, panting, staring at the ceiling, each lost in some sensuous paradise, and then Ling curled up against Elliott’s flank, her head on his shoulder, wondering with astonishment how he could light this desire in her. She could feel it rising again, and she propped herself up on her elbow, flaunting her rounded breasts and he was ready to take them in his hands.
They ate a frugal lunch of bread and cheese, and talked of childhood memories, of their likes and dislikes, wanting to know each other’s minds as well as their bodies. They discussed the world, history, geography, literature, the rights and wrongs of the human race, and, finally, they became lost once more to the fantasy that they were bound together in free, eternal love. Ling breathed Elliott into her soul, drew him into her body, wanting to brand the feel of him into her heart lest this heady euphoria be snatched from her for ever.
‘Elliott, it’s half past three.’
Elliott drew away, his eyes closing with regret. ‘Oh, God, I wish you didn’t have to go. I wish . . .’ His shoulders slumped as he broke off, and then he reared up his head like a savage lion. ‘I wish to God Barney had given you my note so that now you’d be my wife and not his.’ His eyes flashed at her, the anger in his expression astounding her. But then his face slackened and he smiled coyly. ‘That is, if you’d have me.’
‘Oh, Elliott, of course I would. I’d give anything, you know that.’ Her voice trailed away, since there was nothing she
could
give. And then the clock loomed mockingly at her again. ‘But I must get ready to go.’
‘Yes.’ Elliott sighed torturedly. ‘But every minute I have to wait to see you again will be like an hour.’
‘School starts again next week.’ There. She had said it, blurted it out since the words had stung her lips.
There was a long silence. When she dared to look up, Elliott’s face was drained. ‘B–but,’ he stammered, staring at her helplessly. Hopelessly. Echoing the agony that tore at her own heart. And then his eyebrows dipped determinedly. ‘We could meet. After school. All this –’ and he gestured to the tumbled bed they were still lying on – ‘is wonderful. But I can live without it. But I can’t live without seeing the woman I love. Could you . . . could you get the train down to Yelverton after school? There are several trains a day now, aren’t there? We could meet for just half an hour. By the Rock on Roborough Down? And you get the next train back up to Princetown.’
His brow folded into tight lines, and Ling’s brain was turning cartwheels. It might be difficult, but it was possible.
‘I’ll try,’ she answered with a nod. ‘But if I’m not there, it won’t be because I don’t want to be.’ And slowly, reluctantly, she reached for her clothes.
‘I hope that woman appreciates all your visits,’ Barney pouted sullenly as he undressed himself that night. ‘
And
all the money you’ve spent on train fares.’
Ling felt her stomach turn over. She was going to have to lie again, and it went against all her beliefs. But if she chose her words carefully . . .‘Agnes is a good friend, Barney,’ she told him, glancing at him through the gloomy shadows the flickering candle cast across the bedroom.
She had already gone to bed, her thoughts wandering languidly over the bewitching hours she had spent with Elliott. She had heard Barney return from his nightly session with his workmates, and he’d climbed the staircase quietly, not wanting to disturb Fanny and the baby asleep downstairs. Ling turned over just as he opened the door, candlestick in his hand. She saw the whites of his eyes in the faint glimmer from the tiny flame, and he smiled at her.
Was it his old, familiar smile that tugged at her heart, which had meant the world to her as an adolescent girl? He was still a handsome man, but the pressures of life had driven the humour from his carefree spirit, and the loss of their own child had devastated him as deeply as it had Ling. Was it any wonder he had turned to the company of his comrades to escape the empty hearth of his own home? But he was still the same kind and gentle Barney, who always treated her with love and respect, and she watched with renewed curiosity as he stripped off his clothes, but somehow . . . the light had gone out. Oh, she wanted to love Barney, but her heart was simply elsewhere, down in the little house in Chapel Street. And the guilt was unbearable.
‘Let’s see if we can beget this child,’ he whispered, his voice soft and loving as he climbed into bed beside her.
Ling’s heart plummeted to her feet. Her body was satiated from her love-making with Elliott, and the last thing she wanted was . . . But it was hardly Barney’s fault that she had spent all day in bed with her lover. Perhaps she should look upon this as her punishment.
Barney kissed her softly. She could smell the beer on his breath; he had just the one bottle a night, and who could blame him for that after each day’s strenuous toil at the quarry? He lifted the hem of her nightdress and entered her, carefully as ever. Ling gritted her teeth. Her flesh was still a little tender from Elliott’s thrilling attentions, but it wasn’t as if Barney was inconsiderate. He simply didn’t understand. Had she summoned the courage to tell him that she needed him to coax and entice her, he surely would have listened. But it was too late now. It was Elliott she loved in a way that would never be possible with Barney. Barney. Who was her husband. Whom she should forsake for no other, for as long as they both should live. She had sworn it before God, and she had sinned while Barney had remained ever faithful, supporting her family. He was a good man and never abusive. And she had betrayed him.