Beguiled by Her Betrayer
Page 55
‘I will not marry again.’ This time it was she who stood, waving Quin impatiently back to his seat when, with automatic courtesy, he began to stand too. ‘I will never marry again. Never.’
‘You loved your husband so much?’
‘I hated him.’
Chapter Sixteen
Cleo stood at the porthole, her back to Quin, and stared out at the busy harbour. ‘Oh, I thought I loved him at first, but then, I knew nothing about men. The only model of marriage I had was my parents, but I knew no one could be as eccentric and selfish as my father. I believed I would have a companion, a lover, a friend. Of course, life in an army camp would be hard, but I was used to that, I was prepared to work. But nothing was what I expected.’
‘He did not love you?’
‘Of course not. Now I realise Thierry had been ordered to marry me, and why. It was simply to make sure that there was nothing to stop my father co-operating fully with the French authorities. Thierry didn’t want a lovestruck virgin who hung on his arm asking for affection and attention. He wanted the experienced camp whores, or the women of the town who knew how to please a man and demanded nothing more than a coin.’
‘Are you saying that you are still a virgin?’ Quin asked.
‘Oh, no. Why spend good money on sex when you can have it for free at home? He taught me how to make love, he showed me, for a few wonderful nights, what pleasure a man and a woman could have together.’ Someone was sailing a small skiff right past the ship, his wife or girlfriend cuddled up close to him as he sat at the tiller. The woman turned up her face and Cleo heard her laughter, clear across the blue water. Happy lovers.
‘Then he stopped bothering about my pleasure and after a few days, stopped caring whether I was tired or sore or unwilling. I was there to cook his food and wash his clothes and...everything else.’
‘You mean he forced you?’ Quin’s voice had that dangerous calm she had heard before, on the river, in the courtyard.
‘Yes.’ The skiff had tacked into the wind and the couple were kissing now. Young, hopeful love.
‘He hit you.’
‘Eventually he did, after a few days when I recovered from the shock and he discovered that curses and pushes and shoves met with resistance.’
‘Dear God.’ His voice was a whisper. ‘How long did this go on for?’
‘One night. The next day I started carrying a kitchen knife with me everywhere. He thought I would not use it, but he was wrong. I slashed his arm for him and after that he decided I was too much trouble and went back to his whores.’ She shrugged. ‘He was no more work than my father was from then on.’
‘Cleo.’ Quin’s voice was right behind her. She had not heard him move. ‘Cleo, not all men are like that.’
‘Of course not,’ she agreed. ‘My father never lifted a finger to my mother. I am certain you would never hit a woman. But all men are as selfish, of that I am certain. Marriage is on their terms, for what money or land it brings, for their comfort and convenience and for the production of their heirs.’
Is that your skiff? she wondered as the girl in the boat moved with confidence to lower the sail. Was that your dowry?
‘And women are protected and provided for. The children are theirs to love.’
‘Yes.’ Cleo turned and leaned back against the bulkhead. ‘For as long as the wife does exactly what her husband expects of her. She exists to support the life he wishes to live.’
Quin was so close she could see the faint shift of muscles beneath his skin as he kept his face calm, his tone reasonable. ‘You tar us all with the same brush?’
‘You told me you intend to marry a woman because she is suitable, her father has influence and she will bring you wealth. Do you love her?’ He shook his head. ‘Do you even know her?’
‘We are acquainted.’
‘Poor woman.’ His eyebrows lifted, but she swept on. ‘Sir James back in the camp outside Cairo—where was his wife? Waiting at home with the children, I suppose. I wonder if she would have liked to travel?’
‘Cleo, you are being unreasonable. This is what marriage is, a sharing that might not be exactly equal, but which does have benefits for both parties,’ he said.
‘Then I want no part of it.’
‘You want to be the selfish one.’
‘No!’ She slapped her open hand against his chest to try to shake some sense into him. ‘I want to share, to be equal, to have my own interests and my own life as well as being with a man whose own life I am involved in. I want what Mama thought she was going to have when she eloped with Papa. I wish for the moon, I know that perfectly well.’