by Janet Woods
‘I’ll kill him when I lay eyes on him. Don’t you see, you little fool, he’s ruined you to get back at me.’
‘Nick hasn’t ruined me. You don’t own him, Charlotte, and I’ll make him forget he ever loved you.’
‘He’ll never do that.’ She began to take clothes from a drawer and throw them on the bed. She stopped at the underwear Nick had bought her and gazed at it, a sneer on her face. ‘I suppose Nick bought you this. She ripped the pantaloons apart and threw them in a corner, then picked up some scissors from the dressing table and slashed at the fabric of the corset before sending it after the pantaloons.
‘Stop it, Charlotte. I need you to help me.’
‘I am helping you.’ Clothes began to fly on to the bed. ‘There’s another bag in the hall cupboard you can have. You can fetch a sack for the rest.’
‘You’re going to throw me out, your own sister?’
‘You can go and knock on Daisy Thornton’s door and move in with them. See if Erasmus or Daisy will give you house room, since the baby you’re carrying is a Thornton bastard, you traitor.’
In the nursery the twins began to cry. ‘See what you’ve done. I’m going to feed them now, and when I come out I want you to be gone.’
‘Charlotte, you’re being irrational—’
‘Don’t you accuse me of being irrational. Get out of my sight! I hate you,’ she shrieked.
Packing her clothes as best she could Marianne picked up the two bags. The nursery door was closed as she went past.
‘Charlotte,’ she whispered against the panel, because she heard the sound of sobbing.
‘Get out, I said. And don’t come back, because the door will be closed against you.’
Marianne went downstairs and out through the front door. The house she’d grown up in seemed alien to her now. She looked up at the nursery window and saw the curtain twitch.
As she took the pale ribbon of track towards Poole tears trickled down her cheeks. She went slowly, waiting for Charlotte to have a change of heart and call her back. But her sister didn’t, and after a while she picked up speed. She realized that the only people she could turn to now were the Thorntons.
By the time she reached their home she was tired, and her shoulders ached. Her knock was answered by Erasmus Thornton. His eyes widened with surprise when he saw her standing there. His mouth formed the name Caroline then he blinked and quickly recovered. ‘It’s Miss Honeyman, isn’t it?
‘Yes, it is. I need somewhere to stay, Captain Thornton.’
His forehead furrowed into a frown. ‘Why come to me?’
What she said next obviously staggered him because his face flushed with blood. ‘Because you once loved my mother, and you owe her a debt. Besides, I couldn’t think of anyone else.’
He stared at her, hard-eyed, and began to close the door. ‘That’s in the past, and is none of your business. Go back home to your sister, girl.’
She flattened her palm against the panel and shoved her foot through the gap. ‘You don’t understand, Erasmus Thornton. I’m expecting a baby. You were kind to me at the ball and I thought you might help me. I have nobody else to help me and my sister has turned me out.’
He gave a short, unbelieving bark of laughter. ‘Am I to believe that Nick fathered the infant you’re carrying then, since I know I didn’t.’
Tears filled her eyes and she sobbed, ‘Of course Nick did. I’m his wife.’
Erasmus began to laugh. ‘Do you expect me to fall for that? Get off home with you, girl. Nick’s wife, indeed! Nick burned his fingers badly with one Honeyman female, so he’s not likely to try it a second time. I’m not providing you with a roof over your head.’
Daisy appeared behind her brother and pushed him out of the way before she opened the door wide. ‘You don’t have to provide anything. This is my house, Erasmus and I say she can stay. Take her bags. She’ll be company for me and can sleep in Nicholas’s room for now, while we get this sorted out. When he comes home we’ll hear what he has to say about this from his own lips. It’s about time he settled down.’
‘On your own head be it then, Daisy. I told you and I told him. No good ever comes of a woman stepping aboard Samarand. She’s a jealous mistress.’
‘Hush your superstitious nonsense, Erasmus, lest you want a good clout round the ear. You’re not on board your ship now and you don’t tell me what to do. Look at the girl, she’s as pale and trembling as a ghost. Come on in, my dear. I’ll put the kettle on and we’ll have a nice cup of tea. Take no notice of my brother. He’s all bark and no bite.’
The woman cast her brother a scowl that sent a grin scurrying over his lips, but the unexpected kindness Daisy showed towards her brought fresh tears welling to Marianne’s eyes and she gulped out, ‘Thank you. I’m sure my sister will take me back when she’s thought things through. It was a shock for her.’
Erasmus shrugged. ‘Happen she mightn’t, too. She’s always been too stubborn for her own good.’
‘There, there,’ Daisy said. ‘We’ll sort this out, just you wait and see. If that rogue has got you into trouble he can put a ring on your finger. It’s about time one of the damned fool Thornton men faced up to some responsibility.’
‘But I told you . . . we are married, and I do have a ring. Nick had bought a licence from somewhere, and we were wed in Boston in a little chapel. We spent our wedding night at a hotel run by a friend of Nick’s. A lady called Mrs Crawford. She looked like a fine lady to me, but Nick said –’ and she cast a doubtful glance at Daisy – ‘well, never mind what he said, he has the certificate, that’s all that matters.’ Erasmus could barely hold back his laughter. So she and Nick had spent their wedding night in a whorehouse, and the girl knew it? Erasmus thought. Wasn’t that just like Nick. No wonder her cheeks were as red as a rash on a baby’s backside. And no wonder the eldest girl was spitting out a firestorm over this. Nick certainly knew how to take his revenge. He’d had his fun while he was doing it, and had planted a babe inside the girl in the process, easy to do with a girl like this, so young and impressionable. A man would find it hard to control his urges with her.
At least he’d taken her to a classy house. Eyes crinkling, and finding it hard not to guffaw with laughter, Erasmus picked up her bags and kicked the door shut behind them. The marriage was something he could check up on – and he would.
Halfway up the stairs he thought fiercely: By Lucifer, the girl was so much like her mother that she’d given him a turn when he’d opened the door. It had better not have been a bogus marriage, else he’d march Nick up the aisle himself, and with a shotgun aimed squarely at his backside. Taking revenge was one thing, ruining the reputation of a young girl was another thing altogether.
The girl would need a friend to support her in the weeks to come, and there was none better than Daisy.
Fourteen
Marianne hadn’t expected to like Daisy Thornton but the two women soon became fast friends.
The older woman was unconventional in her thinking, especially for a spinster, and her comments about people were pithy and to the point. She rarely went to church. Even so, the Reverend Robert Phipps called on her from time to time.
‘Damn fool, he’s Erasmus’s friend, and he’s never going to save my soul, or my brother’s, she told Marianne.
‘Don’t you want your soul to be saved?’
‘Hah! There’s nothing left of it to save. My father was a pious, hypocritical man, and he beat religion out of me instead of into me, and all before I was twelve. Erasmus too. My brother told me our souls were in our backsides, which was why our father laid his strap across it so often. Erasmus survived the beatings better because he has a hide as tough as an old wolf. We were thrashed because of Dickon’s misdeeds.’
‘Dickon?’
‘Nicholas’s father. Our half-brother from his first wife. The only time our mother was happy was when father went to sea, and I prayed that he would never come back. One day he didn’t. He died, and was buried at se
a. Erasmus was learning his craft, sailing with our uncle at the time.’
‘What happened to Dickon?’
‘Dickon went bad at an early age. Drink . . . gambling, women. Dickon travelled and got into all sorts of trouble, though managing to make a small fortune for himself at the same time. He died fighting a duel over some woman.’
‘Goodness.’
When Erasmus got word of it he went to Greece and came back with Nicholas. I didn’t even know that Dickon had a child. At first, I thought he was a child Erasmus had fathered, but he wasn’t. The boy had been supported financially by Dickon, but was being treated badly by the woman’s husband and his family.’
‘Poor Nick.’
There were tears in the eyes that came her way. ‘You’re not telling lies about Nicholas, are you girl? He’s suffered enough at the hands of your family. Oh, I know he acts tough, and he brought most of it on himself by attaching himself to Charlotte in the first place. I’ll never forgive—’
‘Don’t say anything more, Aunt Daisy. Despite the way Charlotte has treated me over this, I love my sister and I know that one day we’ll be reunited.’ She gave the woman a hug. ‘I truly love Nick. Don’t you worry, I’ll be a good wife to him,’ and she placed her hands over her stomach, ‘I love this child that I’m carrying. Today I felt him move inside me, and it was a wondrous feeling. You’ll see, when Nick comes home you’ll know that I’m telling the truth.’
‘Aye, well, I guess I’d better believe you then, else I’m going to end up looking the fool, which is exactly what your sister will look when the truth be known.’
‘Then let that be your secret pleasure from this situation, but it won’t be mine.’
Marianne missed her sister, and although she went to Harbour House to try and repair the rift between them, she found the doors and windows closed against her. No amount of door banging would gain her access.
Seth called on her a couple of times. Dear Seth, who hadn’t known what a formidable adversary Charlotte could be, and who was doing his best to reconcile them.
‘How are the children?’ she asked him.
‘Thriving.’
‘And John? Is he getting on with the book for his grandfather?’
‘He’s doing his best. Luckily, most of the drawings are done, and I can help him with the letters. Are you all right, Marianne?’
‘I’m well,’ and her voice thickened. ‘I miss you all so. I hate being embroiled in an argument. Charlotte is being so stubborn, but I have faith. She’ll relent eventually.’
‘I do hope so. She feels you betrayed her by taking up with Nick.’
‘But she scorned him, Seth, and in the most cruel way. He didn’t deserve being threatened with a gun. If she’d truly loved him she’d have married him. Now she’s punishing me to lessen the burden of blame she carries, when all she’s achieving is to add to it. She’s lucky to have you. Another man wouldn’t put up with her moods.’
‘I’m under no illusion that I was anything but second best to her. But I’m not unhappy, and she has given me two beautiful children.’
She touched his cheek, seeking to sympathize with him. ‘Dear Seth. She was guided by instinct, as was I when I wed Nick. I’m sure that Charlotte will forget her injured pride in time. She’s too passionate, and finds it hard to forgive a wrong. But she is also loyal, and she will soften in time.’
On Seth’s second visit he tried to leave some money to help pay for her board.
Erasmus had just returned from Boston, and his curt reply was, ‘The Thorntons look after their own, mister. Marianne is a Thornton now, for I’ve seen the registry of her marriage to my nephew with my own eyes, and have brought back a copy with me. I’m satisfied that all is above board and you can tell that sister of hers that we’ll look after her.’
Marianne longed for Nick to return and help to put things right. When she lay in his bed she imagined she was lying in his arms. It was a nice room. A mahogany dresser with unadorned brass handles contained his clothing. There was an oval mirror on the top, and the small drawer underneath it contained a hairbrush, a silver card case, and several other bits and pieces. There was room in the wardrobe for most of her clothes, because she didn’t have many. The rest, she placed in a trunk at the end of the bed.
‘You won’t need any more cupboards,’ Daisy said. ‘When Nicholas returns, no doubt he’ll look for a home of his own that the three of you can live in.’
There was a lace-edged handkerchief in the drawer. It had Charlotte’s initials embroidered on it. Marianne tried not to feel jealous at the sight of it, but the next time she went out she threw it into the harbour and watched it bob away on the tide. Then an awful, but ridiculous thought occurred to her. What if the handkerchief sailed around the world and washed up on the shore where Nick was sitting?
She came to the conclusion that it was hard to be in love when she was uncertain that her love was returned. Marianne was under no illusion that if Charlotte snapped her fingers at him Nick would surely go to her. And that would crush her. It would probably crush Seth as well, because it was obvious that the man was smitten by Charlotte, also.
When Adam Chapman knocked on the door of Harbour House, he handed his card to a maid.
She was back in a couple of minutes. ‘Colonel Hardy said he can give you five minutes, and to show you into his study.’
The house had a comfortable, lived-in feel. In the study the floorboards were covered in rugs that were worn in places where feet usually trekked back and forth. The study looked out over a garden of ragged lawn covered in fruit trees, dandelions and daisies that pushed against a thick fringe of nettles and into the tender green bracken beyond. Beyond that was a vegetable garden walled against the wind. Chickens clucked somewhere.
Adam absorbed his surroundings. Books leaned untidily against each other on the shelves, the leather chairs were worn, the panelled walls dark with years of rubbed beeswax. A fire was laid in a grate inside a large moulded iron fireplace with a brass fender and firedogs. A clock ticked on the mantle. The desk held ledgers, a silver inkwell and penholder.
There was a picture on the wall . . . two young girls posed on a seat in a rose-covered arbour. One had a puppy on her lap. He went to study it more closely.
‘They are my wife and her sister when they were children,’ Seth Hardy said from the doorway behind him.
Adam turned.
The eyes of the man he’d come to see widened and his voice was dry when he said, ‘Adam Chapman, I presume. We’ve met before, and I now know why you didn’t give me a name outside the school. Would you prefer to be called Henry Smith?’
Hardy had a sharp mind. ‘I’d actually prefer Adam. I’m sorry for the deception. I’d completed my assignment and hadn’t intended to involve myself in your affairs any further. I felt the need to pass on what I’d heard to you, since a young woman was involved. I hope the fisherman proved useful.’
‘He did, and my thanks.’ Seth held out a hand to him, and the pair exchanged a smile. ‘Why are you here now if your assignment has been completed? Do you need to meet the object of your investigation, or do you intend to scrutinize my private life as well?’ He spread his hands and smiled. ‘We are as you see us.’
‘May I ask why you agreed to see me, first?’
‘I’m curious to meet a man who discovered so much about me. You know, if you’d knocked on my door and asked for the same information, I’d have probably given it to you. It would have been quicker.’
‘More likely I’d have earned myself a punch on the nose.’
Seth chuckled. ‘That’s entirely possible.’
‘As it is I have all the information on you I needed to know. I do have scruples, and was hired to find a man’s grandson, not to destroy your life. Sir Charles has since rehired me to be his envoy, something I was reluctant to take on.’
‘But you did. Why?’
‘I have a mother and sister to support and the pay offered was excellent. I think you kno
w why I’m here.’
‘Because of John. So much for your bloody scruples.’
‘I assure you, I’m here because of my scruples. Sir Charles had a very different plan of approach than the one I’m making here on his behalf.’
Seth gave a faint smile. ‘I can imagine.’
‘Sir Charles Barrie requests that you take his grandson to London so he can meet the boy. He’ll pay all expenses.’
‘And he sent you to ask. Why didn’t he write or send his lawyer again?’
‘He didn’t think you’d come . . . and Edward Wyvern didn’t have the time. He’s a busy man, and in my estimation, a man with integrity.’
‘Sir Charles expects you to persuade me, after you investigated my affairs?’
‘I wouldn’t even attempt to persuade you. You’re an intelligent man, Colonel Hardy, and well aware of the rights and wrongs of this matter.’
‘Please feel free to call me by my first name. And so far it’s his own rights that Sir Charles has been concerned with. I’ve been threatened with them on occasion and that doesn’t impress me. The man lacks charm.’
‘Not entirely, but he’s autocratic and possesses a dogged determination. Surprisingly, he also has the ability to absorb plain speaking. You’ve impressed Edward Wyvern, who is about the only person Sir Charles will take advice from. You could do the same with Sir Charles if you put your mind to it. He’s a crafty old fox, one who knows a lie when he sees one. Trying to humble him is not the right approach to take. I’ve tried it.’
‘I’ve never employed lies with him, and I don’t play games. John’s happiness and his future is my only concern.’
‘The boy does have the right to know he has a grandfather.’
‘John does know. He also knows that he’ll see him in a few weeks when Sir Charles comes to visit. In fact he’s looking forward to it.’ He gestured toward a drawing book on a side table. ‘He’s making his grandfather a book with drawings of the heath birds in it. For a lad of his age he has a steady hand and his aunt is . . . was helping him.’