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The door slammed shut behind him. The key jangled in the lock.
She was quite alone in the room. Whatever Coleman wanted from her, it seemed her body was not it.
She lay unsure whether to laugh or cry at her predicament. Haunted by memories of Matthew, despised by her husband, she was a prisoner of an unknown fate. If only Matthew knew about her situation, he surely would not tolerate her suffering at the hands of his brother. He had wanted her to come back to protect her honour and it now appeared that was the very thing that Henry would destroy. She would have been better off staying at the farm and facing the consequences from the safety of Matthew’s arms. What was left to do but escape, but how?
* * *
In the dim light of early morning, Matthew went for a lengthy walk. It had become his custom since she’d left to use exercise to flush out his frustrations. Relying on the river as a guide, he came to the boundary of his land where it joined the Coleman estate. It wasn’t a sensible destination. What if he caught sight of her out riding? What if he saw his brother with her?
He clenched his fists. Anger was pointless. Jealousy on its own would destroy him. If only he had some means to bargain for her.
Amongst the tall grass and trees, the wooden structure was nearly hidden from view. Matthew had forgotten its existence. It was the old gamekeeper’s lodge. Many times as a boy, when he ventured far from his home to set rabbit snares, Matthew had watched the sun-blistered man come and go, carrying his musket and belt. One time the man had the company of a manservant from the house. Dressed in his livery, he’d looked quite out of place on the edge of the wilderness. The two had conversed, when the gamekeeper spoke, the younger one frowned in reply.
A few words had drifted to where young Matthew listened out of sight.
“I can’t stay another day, Alfie.”
“Then leave.”
“The Colemans are without honour.”
The gamekeeper had laughed. “The same could be said of the Barracloughs. If you want to make trouble, lad, break your silence, or else leave; he’ll not miss you for long.”
The glistening dew settled on the grass. Lost in thought, Matthew stared at the abandoned building. He had not forgotten the incident, he simply buried it because as a boy he had not understand the nuances and later, he chose to keep it secret for the sake of the manservant. The youth would also be older and wiser by now, and perhaps hold a different opinion of his former master. It was worth the effort to find out.
Turning on his heel, Matthew jogged, then feeling reinvigorated with optimism, he ran back to the farm.
* * *
The next day brought another summons. Another chance to confess.
Henry, far from disappointed at his failed attempt at claiming her, looked pleased with himself. Immaculate in his dress, he leaned back in his chair and drawled, mocking her.
“My dear, until you tell me where you have been, I will not bed you. You see, if this does not work, I shall divorce you on the grounds of lack of consummation, and you will be sent back to your father in disgrace. You did not please me.”
He kept the upper hand with his threat, she saw that now. That was why he had walked out of her bedroom. What other methods would he use to extract the truth? Some she feared more than others.
“Would you beat it out of me?” she asked, her knees knocking together beneath the flimsy gown. Matthew’s firm hand was one not the same as Henry’s. She had trust in the former, but not the latter. She had learnt many things while with Matthew about trust and respect; knowing when to speak up in her defence, and when to accept his actions were justified, and desired by her.
Henry stared at her in alarm. “No. Absolutely not. I’m repulsed by such a thought.”
She actually believed him. There was nothing in his face that indicated he was lying. She hid her relief. What other options were there? She’d play devil’s advocate; she needed to know how his mind worked.
“What if I confess to being with a man? Would you still divorce me?”
“Upon grounds of adultery.”
“Then I have nothing to lose either way.”
“Except the man will be hunted down and arrested. I will not be cuckolded.”
“You would expose yourself by doing so and for what purpose? I see how the gossip will spread about the county: Lord Coleman a cuckold before he even bedded his own wife. I shall make sure everyone knows you failed to consummate our marriage, is that how you would like it played out?” She called his bluff and it angered him; he slammed his hand on the table and lost all his dignified poise as he swept her letters to Estelle from the table. He feared losing his reputation as much as her.
“Goddammit, Dara, why will you not tell me his name, for you have as good as admitted it.”
“Because I don’t love you.”
“We are married. Love is inconsequential. You have nothing to support your claim that I am not your rightful husband. I’ll give you another day. Then regardless of your family’s good name, I shall bring this charade to an end.” He picked up a pen and dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
