A Heaven on Earth Page 8

“You little minx!” he yelled, falling back onto the door and catching hold of the cushion, emitting one of his high-pitched squeaking laughs that so irritated her.

  “Why, you fancy a little sparring match, do you?”

  He tossed the cushion aside and then raised his fists and made a couple of boxing gestures.

  “Come along then, come and let’s see who shall prevail!”

  He laughed again and took a distinctly wobbly step backwards towards the door, as if he was trying to build up momentum to take a run at her.

  Aurora saw her chance and seizing the door handle, shoved the door against his portly stomach, pushing him back outside onto the landing.

  “Faugh!” Lord Moreton exclaimed indignantly as the heavy door knocked the breath out of him.

  Aurora leant against the wooden panels with all her strength, struggling to shut him out, but Lord Moreton still had one foot inside her bedroom, and he was a bulky heavy man while Aurora was a slim light girl.

  She put her shoulder to the door and braced herself, pushing with all her might, but the door would not close.

  Desperately she looked for a chair or anything that she could use to hold the door, but there was nothing at all within reach.

  “Open up!” Lord Moreton shouted. “I will not be treated like this!”

  The panel beneath Aurora’s shoulder shuddered as he struck it with his fists.

  She could not hold the door any longer and giving up the struggle, she ran across the room and took refuge behind the sofa.

  But Lord Moreton, instead of pursuing her over the room, lost his balance completely as the door swung open, and then fell headlong through the door, like an immense avalanche in his velvet coat and onto the bedroom carpet.

  He hit the floor with a crash and lay there wheezing and groaning, so that Aurora caught her breath anxiously, fearing that he had hurt himself quite badly.

  She watched him for a moment and, as he did not stir or make any attempt to rise, Aurora was sorely tempted to skip past him and escape through the open door onto the landing.

  But what if he really was injured?

  He did not sound at all well and she feared to leave him in such a state, so cautiously she approached his heavy body where it lay sprawled on the floor.

  She was almost there when suddenly his arm shot out and she felt her skirts caught and found herself being pulled forward.

  Lord Moreton had recovered himself and had now seized hold of the hem of her dress.

  “Look what have you done to me!” he cried with a pitiful wheeze.

  “I am so sorry,” said Aurora, trying to back away. “I did not mean for you to fall. I hope you are not hurt.”

  “I am mortally wounded,” he moaned, as he heaved himself up onto his elbow. “You have stabbed me in the heart with your capricious behaviour.”

  Aurora tugged at her skirt, but she could not free it from his clutches.

  “I apologise if I have misled you, Lord Moreton, but I cannot marry you.”

  “Misled!” he yelled. “You have destroyed me.”

  “I am so sorry, but I think it would be best if you left me now. I don’t think it is right that you should visit me in my room.”

  “I have no intention of leaving you. Here I lie in my rightful place at your feet and I shall not budge until I have received the answer I desire.”

  He then moved his hand to get a firmer grasp of her skirts and she felt him trying to pull her down to his level on the bedroom carpet.

  She resisted, tugging the fine silk of her dress away from his grasp and as he tugged back, she felt some of the stitches at her waistband give way.

  Why had Phyllis been gone so long?

  And whatever was she doing down in the kitchen?

  Surely she had not been gossiping with the cook all this time. If only she would come back now and release her from this awful predicament.

  “I must ask you to leave,” she demanded. “I have spoken to my father and told him how I feel and he would be most upset if he knew that you had come to my room.”

  He laughed his high squeaking laugh and reached up to catch Aurora’s wrist again, using his weight to drag her down so that she was kneeling on the floor beside him.

  “You little fool,” he burbled. “Do you really think that silly old man knows I am here?”

  “Don’t you dare speak of my father in that way!”

  “Why on earth not? He’s in his dotage and scarcely knows what is going on under his own roof.”

  Aurora felt tears springing into her eyes and a great rush of fear as she realised that she was on her own – there was no one who could help her escape the clutches of this most unpleasant man.

  “He told me you had refused my proposal and gave me back the necklace, the purchase of which, I might say, gave me much trouble and much expense,” continued Lord Moreton. “And then he retired to his room.”

  “Oh, poor Papa,” cried Aurora. “He did not want to break the news to you, it must have upset him very much.”

  “That is as may be, but as soon as he had left me, I realised what I must do.”

  “No!” cried out Aurora, as he loosed her skirts and seized her other hand, pushing her backwards and down to the floor. “Please. I must ask you to leave.”

  “There is no one to hear you,” he breathed hotly on her cheek. “You may squeal as much as you wish!”

  “Stop this!” Aurora gasped, as she felt his weight crushing her against the carpet. “You are hurting me!”

  “I am glad of that,” Lord Moreton hissed, “for you have given me enough pain these last few days.”

  Aurora was now pinned firmly onto the floor by his bulk, but she could still move her head, so she could twist her face away in a desperate attempt to avoid the kisses he was forcing onto her lips.

  “You may struggle,” he gurgled, his mouth against her ear, “but I will not be denied. I will have you for my wife, whether you wish it or not!”

  Aurora could scarcely breathe, trapped beneath him as she was and the feel of his moist lips against her skin made her shudder with horror.

  Somehow she must try and free herself and alert the servants and her father to what was going on.

  “Help!” she screamed. “I cannot breathe! You are stifling me!”

  “I now have you where I want you – and I have no intention of letting you go!”

  Lord Moreton tightened his grasp on her arms.

  “Help me!” she shouted even more loudly.

  “Phyllis! Anybody. Please I am in distress, I need your help!”

  Surely somewhere out on the landing, there must at least be a parlour maid, tending to the fires or turning down the beds.

  Lord Moreton clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “I would not be so hasty in calling out for help,” he lisped. “You are in a most compromising position, Miss Hartnell. Are you quite sure you would like your servants to see you locked in this intimate embrace with me?”

  Aurora’s heart turned to ice as she heard his words.

  It might seem to anyone entering the room that she and Lord Moreton were clinched in a passionate embrace.

  But now one hand was free and she had a chance of escape, which she must make the most of.

  His heavy left hand smelling strongly of cigars was pressing down on her lips, and Aurora, feeling sick as she did so, seized the base of his thumb between her teeth and bit down on it as hard as she could.

  Lord Moreton gave a shrill scream of pain.

  Quick as a flash Aurora pulled her free hand from beneath him and caught him by the left ear, twisting it so that he screamed again.

  In that same instant she used every last drop of her strength to push his heavy body off her, wriggling away as fast as she could and aiming to put the sofa between them.

  But she was not quite fast enough and once again he had caught hold of her skirts. Shouting with rage and pain he dragged her back towards him.

  Aurora could not endure to be
caught again and this time she fought back at him till the delicate stitching at her waistband gave way and the fine silk tore, leaving her in her petticoats and Lord Moreton clutching her torn skirts.

  “You have bitten me like a wild animal, you little hussy!” he shouted, shaking his hand angrily. “Why, you have drawn blood, you vixen!”

  Aurora clung steadfastly onto the back of the sofa, prepared to defend herself again, but before Lord Moreton could take another lunge at her she heard a welcome sound from the landing.

  “Mind your language,” she warned him, “for I hear footsteps.”

  Lord Moreton turned to glance at the door, sucking at his wounded thumb, and Aurora prayed that it would be Phyllis whose steps she had heard.

  The footsteps halted just outside the door.

  Aurora’s heart sank as she caught a faint breath of the scent Lady Hartnell always wore.

  It was her stepmother who was coming.

  Aurora picked up one of the cushions and clutched it to her stomach, instinctively trying to hide the fact that she was only in her petticoats.

  But, of course, she could not hide the fact that Lord Moreton was still holding her silk skirt.

  There was a rustle from outside and the powerful sweet scent grew stronger as Lady Hartnell slowly entered the room.

  She was carrying a tall candle, which lit up her angular face and made her look even more forbidding than usual.

  “Well, well, well,” she muttered coldly, “and what has been going on here?”

  Lord Moreton continued to suck his thumb and then stared at her like a sulky child.

  “I could hear screaming and roaring fit to rival the zoological gardens just a moment ago,” said Lady Hartnell, “and now neither of you can utter a squeak – ”

  She advanced further into the room and took up the piece of torn skirt from Lord Moreton, holding it up to the candle to inspect it.

  “And clearly,” she remarked with great disdain, “it is not just the noise you have been making that is worthy of the animal house.”

  “She bit me, the little whore!” cried Lord Moreton, and held out his hand to Lady Hartnell.

  “Oh dear, my poor Robert!” Lady Hartnell laughed, “I told you she was ungovernable and wild. Why did you not take more care?”

  Aurora felt a strong sense of unease, just as she had when she had heard the two of them conversing in the hall after dinner on Boxing Day.

  Why were they so familiar with each other?

  “Madam,” she began, “or, Mama, I mean – ”

  “I think the less we hear from you now, Aurora, the better,” hissed Lady Hartnell in an icy voice.

  “But please – Mama – I must explain –”

  Aurora felt her voice catching in her throat as she tried to tell her what had just taken place.

  “I think that this will tell the tale quite adequately,” smirked Lady Hartnell, as she raised the ripped silk skirt so that Aurora could see it clearly.

  “You may well be skulking behind the sofa but you cannot hide from me that you are in a state of undress!”

  “Please, Mama – ”

  Aurora tried to speak again, but Lady Hartnell just turned away from her.

  “So, Robert,” she asked with a supercilious smile, “how went the campaign?”

  “She drew blood!” he moaned, nursing his hand.

  “Just a mere scratch,” laughed Lady Hartnell, and tossed the silk skirt at him, “and it seems you have given more than you got.”

  Lord Moreton scowled.

  “She is a hellcat, Charlotte, and I have not had my way with her.”

  Lady Hartnell laughed again.

  “Poor Robert. I should have left you to it for a little longer, but I was afraid that the entire household would be roused by your racket and I did not want the footmen and the butler bursting in with pitchforks and buckets of water to pull you both apart.”

  “Leave us then and let me finish what I came here for,” snapped Lord Moreton. “I will not be denied!”

  Aurora gasped with horror, as she felt the blood drain from her body at the thought of yet another onslaught from him.

  She looked with despairing eyes at her stepmother, even though it was clear she was well aware of what had happened and did not seem at all angry with Lord Moreton.

  Lady Hartnell smiled again and placed her hand on Lord Moreton’s arm.

  “Robert, Robert. Calm yourself. I think you have done more than enough.”

  She took up the large piece of torn skirt from where it had fallen when she had thrown it at him and folded it up carefully into a small square, tucking it into her waistband.

  “Mama!” Aurora cried out and ran across to Lady Hartnell, desperate to explain what had occurred. “I begged him to leave.”

  “Be quiet now, Aurora, you are a perfect disgrace, you little minx. Just how dare you cavort in front of me in your petticoats? Where is your sense of respectability?”

  “But – ” Aurora stammered.

  “Look at you! Enticing this poor gentleman, who you have recently rejected and insulted, into your clutches once again!”

  Lady Hartnell pursed her lips into an expression of great disapproval.

  “I think you must have no shame at all.”

  And she turned back to Lord Moreton and gave him a swift wink and a little sly smile.

  Lord Moreton looked puzzled and seemed about to contradict Lady Hartnell, but then he suddenly smiled too and wiped the drops of blood from his hand onto his coat.

  “Yes,” he lisped, “shameless is the right word. She could not wait to get her claws into me.”

  “I – it – wasn’t like that – ”

  Aurora could feel herself about to burst into tears as she struggled to defend herself.

  Lord Moreton interrupted,

  “Oh, Charlotte. If you could have seen the way she hurled herself at me. She was so violent in her passion she threw me to the floor!”

  Lady Hartnell laughed again, this time very loudly and for a long time.

  “I should like to have seen that,” she said, when she had gained control of herself, “but one thing is very clear, my dear Robert. This young lady must be married as soon as possible, for she is clearly a liability both to herself and to others.”

  Lord Moreton nodded.

  “Yes, indeed, my dear Charlotte. That would be a most satisfactory outcome for both of us.”

  Aurora then looked from one to the other of them in bewilderment.

  “But I told Papa – ”

  “Your Papa, my dear Aurora,” said Lady Hartnell, frowning at her and speaking once again in a cold precise voice, “would be most troubled to hear of your shocking and immoral behaviour this evening.”

  “But it was not my doing! I did not invite this man into my room – I tried to keep him out.”

  “Don’t lie to me, you wicked creature. You turned down this delightful and charming man and then when you realised how much you were throwing away, you were so desperate to regain your dominion over him that you even had to resort to flaunting yourself in front of him in your petticoats!”

  “No! No! It was he who tore my skirt!”

  Lady Hartnell clicked her teeth in disdain.

  “And what will your dear father say, do you think, if he discovers you were so desperate in your ungoverned passion to keep Lord Moreton in thrall to you that when your other wiles did not work, you sank your teeth into his flesh?”

  “I will tell him – the truth – ”

  “And of course, Aurora, he will believe you, rather than listening to the evidence of his own dear wife and his dear friend and neighbour, Lord Moreton.”

  Lady Hartnell pursed her lips in disdain.

  “I don’t think that will be the case, do you, young lady?”

  Her stepmother’s sharp voice drilled into Aurora’s head and made her feel sick and dizzy until the whole room seemed to be spinning around her.

  She staggered backwards and dropped
onto the sofa shaking with fear and shock.

  “So I believe we have reached a most satisfactory conclusion,” said Lady Hartnell. “The evening has gone so very well indeed.”

  “What – what – do you mean?” whispered Aurora.

  “What I mean, young lady, is that there will be no more nonsense from you. It is more than clear from what has happened tonight that you obviously cannot be trusted to behave yourself.

  “One moment you will accept this charming man’s proposal and the next you are saying you reject him, only then to throw yourself at him in the most unbecoming and immoral fashion.”

  And she turned her gaze on Lord Moreton as if expecting him to say something.

  “Such inconsistency is very baffling indeed,” lisped Lord Moreton, returning Lady Hartnell’s glance.

  He turned to Aurora.

  “And yet, Miss Hartnell, in spite of your appalling behaviour, I still find it in myself to forgive you.”

  “Oh, come, Robert!” said Lady Hartnell with a little laugh. “You don’t mean to tell me you will still have her?”

  Lord Moreton gave his little squeaking laugh.

  “And who else would, I wonder, after the events of this evening?”

  “Indeed, Robert. We are agreed that the betrothal is just as it was and the wedding will go ahead as we planned. The sooner that this young woman is safely married and under your roof the better!”

  Aurora tried to rise to her feet and protest, but she was trembling so much she could not force a word out.

  Lady Hartnell turned and swept from the room and Lord Moreton followed her, looking back at Aurora with a strange expression that seemed to be half-triumph and half greedy expectation.

  She shuddered and shrank back on the sofa.

  Her head ached and her arms hurt from where Lord Moreton had manhandled her, but far worse than that, her whole being felt soiled and besmirched.

  Why had he come to her room when he knew that Papa was under the same roof, even though he had retired to his bed?

  And more worryingly still, why had Lady Hartnell followed him and why had she refused to believe Aurora, or even listen to her explanation?

  She had never felt so alone or so afraid in her life.

  She longed for Phyllis to come and bathe her face and her bruised arms and lay out her nightgown on the bed.