HF - 05 - Sunset (29 page)

John Phillips stood up. 'Caused by fingers, I would say.'

Meg slowly lowered her hands. So he tried to strangle me, she thought. After I had fainted. There could be no other explanation. She forced a smile. 'Billy is a tempestuous lover.'

Phillips flushed, and shifted his feet uneasily.
‘I
should tell you that Washington says he heard screams coming from here last night.'

'They could have been screams of ecstasy, John,' she said.

'They
could
have been.'

'Oh, very well, they were screams of ecstasy. I'm sorry to have embarrassed Washington. I
...
I get very excited about
...
well, about sex.'

'I believe some women do,' he agreed, and packed his bag. 'Where is Billy, by the way?'

'Walking. He's fond of walking.'

‘
Hm.' Phillips closed his bag.

'You'll have a cup of tea? Or a drink?'

'No, thank you,' he said. 'I have to be getting back.'

'But after coming all the way out here,' she said. 'Why, you must have been several hours on the journey. And you'll be a long time going back.'

'All the more reason to get there,' he said. 'Washington must be far more tired than I am.' He went to the bedroom door, hesitated. 'I'll stay, if you wish me to have a word with Billy.'

Oh, would you ? she thought. Oh, please stay. But she was Meg Hilton. She could not confess she was afraid of her husband. 'Now why should I want you to do that?' she asked.

'Ah
...
no reason at all that I can think of,' he agreed. 'Well
...'
Again the hesitation. 'I think someone, you, I would say, should remind Billy first of all that women are made of flesh and blood, and secondly, that you are carrying a child. I'm all for passionate marriages, but if you suffer a similar catalogue of bruises every night you'll be fit only for a nursing home, and very shortly. And you will lose the babe.' He frowned at her. 'You do wish the child?'

'Of course I do. What a remarkable thing to ask.'

'Then I apologize. I'll say goodbye. But take care, Meg. I'll come see you when you get back to Hilltop. Tell Billy that, when you give him my regards.'

The bedroom door closed, and Meg remained staring at it for some minutes. He knew that she had been beaten. Of course he knew that. Washington and Austin also knew that. All of Jamaica would know that, soon enough. Meg Hilton had been beaten unconscious by her husband on her wedding night. Well, they would say, it was no more than she deserved, the hussy.

She picked up her glass, looked at herself. The face had not changed. It was still lovely, still calm, still determined. But had it also taken on a slight tightness at the lips, a slight watchfulness at the eyes ? Or had those facets of her personali
ty been there before, unnoticed
?

And certainly there were bruises on her throat, ugly brown stains on the freckled flesh. The wretch. The criminal, in fact, as John Phillips would surely be willing to testify. Why, if she wished, she could obtain a divorce on such treatment. Or could she? Billy was the one who would know the law.

She laid down the mirror, walked to the window, looked out at the mountains and the trees, at Austin chopping a branch for firewood. The carriage had already left.

But did she want a divorce ? A divorce would accomplish nothing, would indeed make matters far worse. She was only eighteen, and for the next three years she was entirely in the hands of Billy's father. A divorce, for that time, would be unthinkable.

Besides, did she
want
one ? She was Meg Hilton. There was no need for her to be afraid of Billy. Of any man, but especially of Billy. Even physically. He could never have hurt her last night but for that accident. He would not be able to hurt her again, once she was well. Once she had had the child. But that was seven months off. Her recovery, her victory, for she was determined upon nothing less, would have to be based upon something stronger than physical strength. But she possessed that, too. She was Meg Hilton. His future was her decision.

She watched her husband coming up the path, hands thrust deep in his pockets. She did not remember him going out. According to Austin he had taken a packed lunch, and indeed the haversack hung from his shoulder. Oh, Austin would have a lot to tell after this honeymoon; a wife who screamed when entered, a husband who went for a whole-day walk on the first morning.

She left the window, took off her gown, got into bed, pulled the pillows behind her. She listened to the front door banging, to his feet on the wood of the living room, hesitating as they reached the bedroom door.

'You may come in,' she said.

He stood in the doorway, gazing at her; his face was flushed. And of course, she remembered, he would have a hangover.

'John Phillips has just left,' she said. 'He thinks I'll live. Apart from a sprained wrist
...'
'You fell out of bed,' Billy said.

'A bruise on my thigh, and these bruises on my throat.' She touched them with her fingertips. 'Didn't you have the nerve to go through with it?'

'Meg
...'
He came forward, stood by the bed. 'I was drunk, Meg. Truly, I was drunk.'

'Oh, you were,' she agreed. 'Well, half a bottle of rum on top of several bottles of champagne, what do you expect?'

'Meg
...'
He sat on the bed. 'I'm sorry.'

'So say no more about it. Nor will I.'

'Meg
...'
He reached for her, and she removed her hand from his grasp. 'Meg.'

'But I really do not want another beating. In fact, John Phillips said that on no account must I suffer another beating.'

'You
...
you didn't tell him?'

'I didn't have to. He's a doctor, remember.'

Billy stood up again. 'And didn't I have a right? You're carrying another man's child, in there. You've slept with God knows how many men. You spent a night in the mountains with niggers. My God, you have no right to preach to me. And John Phillips knows that.'

'You know that, Billy,' Meg pointed out. 'You knew that, when you married me. John Phillips knows
that,
and so does Helen McAvoy. Having accepted those facts, you have no right to ill-treat me.'

'No right?' he shouted. 'No right. Why
...'

'In fact, when you come down to it,' she said, 'you have no rights at all, Billy Reynolds, except where I give them to you.' He must be crushed, she reminded herself. He must be reduced to my husband, or I will always be forced to trail behind him as his wife.

'Why
...'
He was purple in the face again, as he was last night.

'So shut up and listen,' she said. 'Unless you really do intend to beat me again. Or perhaps to throttle me again. I should say that John has promised to come and see me whenever I need him, and certainly when I return to Hilltop.'

Billy stared at her, his fists opening and shutting.

'The marriage has been consummated,' she said. 'So far as I am aware. I really do not think I could stand another evening with you now, so I would be obliged if you would make yourself up a bed in the living room. Or perhap
s Austin would do it for you.' ‘
You
...'

'I shall not entirely end your conjugal rights, Billy. As you have seen fit to observe, I am a healthy and passionate woman, even if those are not quite the words you would have chosen, and thus I may need you from time to time. I will tell you when. But so help me God, if you
touch
me without my invitation I will have you thrown out of the house.'

His mouth dropped open in sheer amazement. 'You speak to me like that?' he bawled. 'My father
...'

'Happens to be my guardian,' she said.
‘I
had not forgotten that, or believe me, you would already have been thrown out of the house. You are my husband. 1 chose you, in my ignorance. You may remain my husband, and for longer than three years, if you behave yourself. But not otherwise.'

He gazed at her for several seconds. She almost smiled. He was defeated, and he knew it. And she was at this moment all of a cripple. There would be no more crises.

'You think you own the earth,' he said at last. 'Hiltons. Father always said they thought they owned the earth.'

'I do own the earth, Billy, so far as you are concerned.'

'You think so? You're my wife. You think I'm just a convenience, so you can be Margaret Hilton in fact as well as name. So you won't have to wait three years. Well, I'll tell you this. You're not being a whore.
My
wife isn't being a whore. If I'm not good enough for your bed, then no one is. If you so much as look at another man, I
...
I'll kill you.'

Now Meg did smile. 'No you won't Billy,' she said. 'You had your chance last night, and you didn't.'

But when he had stamped out of the room, she got up and locked the door.

The pain began to ease, slowly, and Meg felt she could breathe again. Yet her lungs were exhausted; she had been gasping for breath for too long as it was. Now she just wanted to lie still, and allow her tortured muscles to relax, and feel
...
she tried to sit up. If the pain was gone, then the child was born.

Helen smiled at her. 'We thought you had fainted.'

'My baby?'

'Is a boy. A handsome little fellow.' Meg lay back with a sigh. Your grandson, Helen, she thought. Will you not recognize him? 'He has your eyes,' Helen said. 'Where is he?' 'Being washed. Here he is.'

Prudence waddled into the room. 'Man, Miss Meg, you got for be proud of this one. Oh, yes, man.'

The tiny scrap of flesh was placed in her arms, and immediately began scrabbling with his gums at the bodice of her nightdress.

'Oh, he is one hungry chil’
,' Prudence declared. 'He going be big like he mummy. And you ain' glad you got big bubbies, chil', for to feed he?'

'I have always been glad I have big bubbies, Pru,' Meg said, and smiled at John Phillips. 'Well, John?'

'All done, Meg,' he said. 'Now you can start to live again.'

Because he, more than anyone else, knew just how trying had been these last six months, for the most part trapped in the house, a daily walk to the cemetery her only outing. Unable to ride, unable even to take the carriage to Kingston for fear the jolting roads would have caused a miscarriage.

And at home, living a solitary, private existence. She even ate alone; Billy took his midday meal aback, and seldom came home for supper until after she had retired. While as for entertaining
...
but of course, whatever the rumours flying the length and breadth of Jamaica, no one would expect a pregnant woman to do any entertaining. But they would expect something now.

John Phillips squeezed her hand. 'Helen and Prudence know what to do about feeding. Let him have a suck; your own milk will be in by tomorrow, I should say. And I'll be out to see you then. I must get back to town.'

Thank you, John,' she said. 'And God bless you.'

'God bless
you,
Meg.' He closed the door behind him.

Meg eased the strap of her nightgown down, allowed the tight little hps to close their gums on her teat.

'Well,' Helen said brightly. 'I've sent a messenger for Billy, of course. I expect he'll be here any moment.'

'Do you really?'

Helen glanced at Prudence, busily folding nappies in the corner. 'Well
...
he does mean to acknowledge the child?' 'I have no idea,' Meg said.

'But
...'
Helen sighed, obviously deciding it would be unprofitable to pursue that subject. 'Have you decided on a name? Anthony?'

'Not Anthony.'

'Oh...
well, William?'

'Certainly not William,' Meg decided. What would you say, Helen McAvoy, she wondered, were I to call him Alan? 'I shall call him Richard.'

'Richard? Oh, of course. What a splendid name.' Helen turned as the door opened. 'Why, Billy. Just in time. Meg has chosen a name. Richard Hilton. What do you think of that?'

Billy wore his riding clothes, and looked sweaty and tired. He always looked tired. Managing a plantation was much harder work than he was used to. 'Is that the name of its father?'

'Well, I
...'
Helen gazed at Prudence in alarm.

'It's the name of my grandfather,' Meg said. 'And my great-grandfather, I might add.'

'Oh, yes, of course. The general,' Billy said. 'Can't let that memory die.'

'You'll want to talk to Meg,' Helen said. 'Come along, Prudence.'

'Do you want to talk to me, Billy?'

The door closed. Billy gazed at her for a moment, then leant over the bed and kissed her on the forehead.

'Why, Billy,' she remarked. 'Instructions from Daddy?
’