Chapter 15 #2
Archibald thumped his hand on the arm of the chair. ‘I am diminished by his offers of generosity. Don’t you see that a man should pay his way without charity? He should not need to rely on another man to put bread on his table or in his wife’s belly. And you…’
He turned his face up to her with a grimace of pure malice on his lips.
‘You told him of my troubles and brought our son into the conversation. How dare you speak so out of turn!’
‘Archibald, I was trying to help. I didn’t think you would mind, and it’s true that I wish Archie had shown interest.’
‘I don’t.’
Gwen grew flustered, hearing this animosity. ‘Please accept my apologies.’
‘It’s a damned sight too late for apologies, isn’t it? Do you really think Rosewood will keep his word? The moment my eyesight worsens, he will throw us out onto the street.’
He was becoming so agitated that he was in danger of spilling his tea.
Gwen knelt at his side. ‘Archibald, please calm yourself. You have no idea and it’s a grave insult to him to suggest that he is lying.
He has made a great deal of money thanks to your hard work, and it is only fair that you should benefit from it. ’
‘I should benefit? What radical nonsense is that?’
‘It isn’t nonsense,’ Gwen answered. ‘If you had had money at the time, you could have gone into business with Conrad.’
‘However, I didn’t. He was lucky that some wealth fell into his lap when it did,’ Archibald said sourly.
‘How did it fall into his lap?’ Gwen asked, intrigued by the odd expression. She vaguely remembered when Conrad had set out to buy the pharmacy from the previous owner.
Archibald pinched his mouth closed. ‘That’s not my business, and none of yours either. There’s a name for women like you.’
‘Women like me?’
‘Women who can’t keep their noses out of business that doesn’t involve them.’
Gwen’s stomach twisted at the clear dislike in his voice. ‘I was only making conversation with you. I don’t really care how your friend acquired his windfall, if I’m being perfectly honest. Don’t accuse me of being a harpy.’
Without warning, Archibald hurled the mug across the room and rose from his chair. He gripped Gwen painfully by the shoulders and shook her violently. She cried out in shock. The attack had come out of nowhere.
‘Do you presume to tell me what to do?’ he roared.
He let go of her and lashed out with his arm outstretched.
The back-handed blow caught the side of her face.
The shock was worse than the pain and she sank to the floor with a small gasp.
Archibald stood over her as she raised her hand to her cheek.
She expected him to either attempt to strike her again or apologise, but he gave a guttural growl.
‘Take me back to my bed.’
He reached out a hand, fumbling in front of him.
Gwen flinched. Crouching like a dog that expected a beating was more humiliation than she could bear.
She stood and let him take her by the arm, glad he couldn’t see the tears that she couldn’t keep inside.
She took him back to the bedroom and helped him into bed, then walked out of the room and leant against the wall.
She covered her face with her hands. Never had she been so treated.
She went out for a walk to the small park at the end of the road. The weather was still unseasonably cold and rainy, and she huddled down under an umbrella and didn’t notice the man standing by the iron railings until he spoke.
‘Mrs Walters. I’d like a word with you.’
Gwen recognised the voice and her heart jumped. It was Wolf, Augusta’s man. She kept her head down but walked to him.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
Wolf chewed something and swallowed before answering. ‘I saw Miss Rosewood leaving your house.’
‘You’ve been watching my house?’ Gwen asked in horror.
He smiled unpleasantly.
‘Of course. Mrs Augusta likes to know what’s going on with her employees.’
The old woman who lived three doors down walked past, openly staring at Gwen talking to a stranger to the area. Gwen raised her voice.
‘I’m afraid you’re on the wrong street for the baker,’ she told Wolf. When Widow Paxton had passed out of earshot, Gwen turned back to Wolf. She crossed her arms and glared at him.
‘Why have you come here?’
‘Mrs Augusta is not happy,’ he answered.
Fear rippled through Gwen as if he had physically grabbed her.
‘Why? The last batch I delivered was perfectly good.’
Wolf grunted. ‘You haven’t answered her question. She sent me to remind you.’
Gwen relaxed, but only a little. She had almost hoped the mixture would turn out to be useless and therefore would no longer be needed.
The operation had been carried out, after all.
There was nothing more she needed to earn money for.
Then again, with Archibald gloomily prophesying a future of poverty, perhaps she had better not be too rash.
‘My husband has had an eye operation. I’ve been busy and I’m afraid it slipped my mind, and even if it hadn’t, Miss Rosewood and I have not been alone to discuss it.’
Wolf laughed nastily. ‘Mrs Augusta shouldn’t slip your mind. Should be right at the front. She won’t be happy to hear that.’