by Janet Woods
‘Can I see?’
‘Are you sure you want to?’
When she nodded, he fetched the hand mirror from the dressing table.
She examined her face to find it exactly as he’d described. She couldn’t see herself under the damage, but her neck was adorned with several bruises where her attacker’s hands had exerted pressure. She giggled … then the horror of what had happened overwhelmed her. Tears ran down her cheeks and she began to weep. Pulled into his arms she buried her face in his shoulder.
‘Don’t cry, my precious,’ he said, in a voice so low that she could hardly hear it and thought she must have been mistaken.
After a while she stopped crying and looked up at him. ‘Sorry.’
His blue eyes danced with amusement. ‘I’m not, since it provided me with an excuse to offer you comfort. Now you look as though you want me to kiss you.’
‘I certainly do not.’
‘Thank goodness for small mercies; it would be like kissing a suet pudding somebody had stamped on.’
She felt miffed. ‘Since when have you been an expert on kissing suet puddings?’
‘I might concede you a point on that.’
‘May I remind you that I’ve been threatened with a knife, kicked, punched, thrown down the stairs, thrown back up again, and choked to death, and all on your behalf. I feel bruised all over and I’m very, very angry.’
‘And you still have plenty of fight left in you. You were actually ninety per cent choked to death, and by the way, you are bruised all over.’
‘You and your numbers.’ Shocked as his words sank in, she stared at him. ‘You examined me?’
He gave a rueful laugh. ‘Unfortunately no. I intended to, but Julia wouldn’t hear of it. I thought you were dead at first.’ He cleared his throat. ‘There was blood on you and then I thought I might have missed your attacker and hit you instead. I’d never have forgiven myself if you’d died. It was close.’
‘I don’t think I would have forgiven you, either. You saved my life. I did my best to fight that thug off but he was so strong, and the children wouldn’t run and hide like I told them to. They didn’t even move, but stood there watching. And they looked so frightened. Edward couldn’t hold the pistol straight because it was too heavy. His eyes were filled with dread. I couldn’t help him because I ran out of strength and felt all floppy like a rag doll.’
He placed his finger over her lips. ‘Try not to think about it.’
Gruffly, she asked him, ‘What were you doing here, when you should have been halfway to London?’
‘It’s a long story and best left until you’ve recovered. Needless to say there will be an inquiry in a few days’ time. Your deposition will be needed, and those of the children.’
‘May I borrow your handkerchief?’
He handed it over with a sigh. ‘I’m running out of them.’
‘I’ll buy you one for Christmas.’
‘That’s eight or nine months away. I might need one before then.’
‘You’ve always got an answer for everything, Zachariah.’
‘And you’ve always got a question for the answer, which doesn’t mean it’s the right question or the right answer. Can you eat something, Clemmie mine? The cook has some chicken soup on the stove that she made especially for you.’
Her stomach growled and he smiled. ‘Ah, the answer is in the affirmative, I hear.’ He crossed to the bell pull and gave it a tug.
When he returned to her side he reached out to rearrange the little curl by her ear to his liking, a tender gesture that completely disarmed her, so the inclination to turn her abused face into his palm was almost overwhelming.
‘Zachariah, please don’t do that,’ she pleaded, her voice almost a purr with the indecent pleasure coursing through her.
‘Why not?’
‘Because … because …’
‘Ah, is that why?’
But it was too much to ask. His hand closed over hers again, his glance engaged hers and he chuckled. Stooping, he kissed her, his mouth as light as a feather duster. ‘I’ll bring the children to see you later today. They have developed a ghoulish interest to inspect your injuries. Don’t be surprised if your misadventure turns up in Edward’s next bogafree, with himself as the hero.’
She tried not to laugh. ‘Edward was tremendously courageous. I wonder if he’ll include Iris giving him instructions on how the gun worked.’
A low rumble of laughter came from him. ‘I was just in time for that little display of female reasoning. What a resourceful little girl she is … so calm and in control of herself.’
‘Your appearance was a miracle; we’d have been dead by now if you hadn’t arrived.’
‘And I’d be inconsolable, my Clemmie. Enter,’ he called out, and a beaming Mrs Ogden came in followed by Julia and Ellen.
‘Eat every morsel.’ He kissed her hand and stood. ‘Be gentle with her, ladies.’
‘Yes, sir, she’ll feel better after a nice bath.’ Mrs Ogden’s mouth fell open. ‘Lord save us … look at your face. It’s worse than it was yesterday.’
‘I have looked.’ Clementine’s voice was watery and she looked as though she was about to cry again. She always seemed to get emotional when sympathy was offered to her.
Zachariah didn’t mind having her head resting against his shoulder and her breast pressing against his chest. If only he could have her all – soft and wearing nothing except for the smell of soap and woman and with her furry little nest teasing against him. It would be his time to get emotional then.
He grinned … but such delights could wait. He was looking for his handkerchief. Zachariah patted his pockets, only to remember she’d already borrowed it.
But there was a folded paper in his waistcoat pocket. He vaguely remembered Clementine handing it to him … a message from Alexandra after she’d left. He didn’t know whether he wanted to read it or not. As was his duty he would accept Alexandra for what she was, as part of the family – and should she prove to be the rightful claimant of the legacy, he would allow her access to Edward and Iris.
Dear Mr Fleet
Thank you for your hospitality. There is something I should tell you, and whether you take it further is your business.
I had the occasion to overhear a conversation between Mr Basil Cheeves and another gentleman, one I didn’t recognize, on an occasion when I visited at Mrs Cheeves’ request.
The topic was the value of an amount of gold, the property of Gabriel Fleet, which was transported to England in the luggage of your brother’s personal effects. They were to take the trunk, remove the gold, then return the trunk to you. The plan went awry when one of your servants took possession of the trunk as soon as it was unloaded from the ship.
Basil Cheeves’ companion used to be someone they called Hawk. He was acquainted with your late brother through gambling, and was transported for the crime of stealing betting money from a syndicate to which they all belonged. Basil was involved with the accounting side and your brother borrowed heavily. Hawk evaded the authorities and returned to England. He wanted his share so he could move to America and start afresh, but the account no longer existed.
They blamed it on your brother and tried to kill him on two occasions while he lived at Martingale House. The suggestion was that Basil Cheeves would cause a diversion while the other man ransacked Martingale House for the gold. I thought nothing more of it at the time since they had drunk too much wine and were affected by laughter, and were silly brained like children.
Also I have always found you uncomfortable to approach, only to risk being ridiculed or be rebuffed, so I kept it to myself.
I have no idea if there is any truth to this tale, but I wish for no harm to befall on you and yours. I promise I will stay out of your life, since I believe I was tolerated rather than welcome in your house.
Yours truly,
Alexandra Tate
Her criticism smarted, though he was truthful enough to admit he could have
been less standoffish. In fact, he’d never have left Clementine and the children alone had he taken the time to read the letter earlier.
Blood rushed into Zachariah’s face. Was there no end to the consequences of Gabe’s gambling debts? Basil Cheeves must have set fire to the barn to cause a diversion. And to think he was on the spot, helping to put the fire out.
He wished he’d opened the letter sooner. Cheeves had been in on the plan to rob his house, and it could have resulted in death for Clementine and the children.
He went in search of John Beck and laid the letter before him.
‘What is your inclination?’ John asked. ‘If Alexandra’s letter is to be believed, then clearly Basil Cheeves was involved in this invasion of your home. But can you prove that he was? All you have is a letter from a young woman who he embarrassed publicly – a woman who said she overheard a conversation.’
‘When I think of what might have happened to the people I love the most, I’m so very angry.’
He missed the smile that sped across John’s face. ‘That’s understandable, Zachariah, since you are blaming yourself for not being here. It won’t hurt to put this before Basil Cheeves and see what he has to say. And I think it might be a good idea to talk to Edward, just to see if he knows anything of this gold. If he had his father’s pistol he could have the gold hidden away.’
‘Clemmie will never forgive me if I upset him. She thinks he’s been through enough.’
‘A lad will learn how to love from his mother, but he needs to learn to respect his father’s word. You might try looking in his hiding hole. I know my boys kept all their treasures in one place when they were growing up. Your hiding place was behind a loose panel in the window seat.’
Zachariah laughed, though growing up in Martingale House had taught him very little about love or respect. ‘Julia taught me what motherly love was like, and you taught me to respect you. As for the hiding place, I recall getting stuck in there one day and you pulled me out by my legs.’
John laughed and patted him on the shoulder. ‘You needed to have someone to respect before you learned to have some respect yourself. Julia and I are so proud of you.’
Rather than bring Edward down to a room that reminded him of his own unhappy childhood, Zachariah went up to the nursery. Iris was playing with the Noah’s Ark he’d bought them, the animals lined up two by two.
Edward was looking out of the window, dreamy-eyed.
‘Edward,’ he called softly, and the boy turned his head. Immediately his eyes became troubled.
‘I want to talk to you a minute. Iris, you can stay with Polly till we come back. You’ll be pleased to know that Miss Clemmie has woken up and I’ll be taking you to visit her this afternoon.’
Both faces lit up with smiles.
He took the boy into Gabe’s bedchamber. ‘When I asked you to help me unpack your parents’ effects, I didn’t expect you to steal a pistol, Edward.’
Edward scuffed at the carpet with the toe of his boot and muttered, ‘Sorry, sir. I just wanted something that belonged to my papa.’
Zachariah softened his voice. ‘Yes, I know you did, and I can understand that. But guns are dangerous and not designed to be used as toys. You’re not old enough yet to have a gun. Your father looked after his pistols and he would expect them to be cleaned and put away until you’re old enough to handle them. The pistols were a matched pair and came in a box. Do you have the other one in your possession? What about the powder and ammunition?’
Edward sighed. ‘It’s under the rug under the bed. There is a loose floorboard.’
‘Perhaps you’d fetch it out for me. Is there anything else I should know about … some gold perhaps?’
‘It’s inside the bible. Papa said the word of the Lord was priceless.’
Zachariah nearly burst out laughing as Edward slid under the bed. Gabe must have had his tongue firmly in cheek. A few moments later a polished box with Gabe’s initials on it came sliding out. It contained the matching pistol.
Some scuffling went on under the bed, then some huffing and puffing. The lad cried out when he banged part of his body on the bed frame.
‘Are you all right, Edward?’
‘I’ve turned the rug back and got the floorboard half up, but it’s stuck and the book is too heavy to lift out. I pushed it into the hole.’
‘I had better help you.’ Dropping down on to his front, Zachariah wriggled under the bed to find Edward struggling with the floorboard. It had a knothole in it. Inserting his finger, he heaved the board out. His gaze went to Edward. ‘You didn’t discover this loose floorboard by chance, did you?’
‘Papa told me about it.’
The bible was heavier than Zachariah expected, as it was wedged in tight. It didn’t take much for him to know why.
Eventually he freed the book and pushed it before him as he crawled from under the bed. He pulled Edward out by his legs. Both of them were covered in dust and fluff.
The pages had been hollowed out and it rattled slightly when he shook it. He set it on the dresser and opened it, only to face disappointment. It was full of small round lead balls, ammunition for a pistol.
‘This isn’t gold. It’s balls for the pistol.’
Edward shook his head, then changed his mind and nodded. ‘You have to scratch it with a knife to see the gold. Papa painted it so nobody would try to steal it.’
‘Your papa always had some good ideas.’ Wasting his life and that of his wife for a small amount of gold hadn’t been one of them. He took a pocket knife from his pocket and scratched at the surface, smiling when gold glinted through. ‘I’m going to put it in my strongbox and you shall have the pistols and half of the gold when you’ve grown into a man. Iris will have the other half. Best not to tell anyone though, because people can get greedy if they think there’s some gold they can steal.’
‘Like that man who got into the house? I’m glad you killed him; he was hurting Miss Clemmie.’
‘Miss Clemmie is badly bruised, and you must prepare yourself for that. She’ll recover in time, but she thought you and Iris were very brave, and so do I. She will need to be loved and cared for while she recovers.’
Edward puffed his chest out with pride. Fiercely he said, ‘I wish I had killed Jonas, except the pistol wouldn’t fire.’
‘I’m glad you didn’t, Edward. It’s not a good feeling to kill anyone no matter how bad they are … However, I had no choice. Shall we go out for a ride? I want to inspect the barn to see if any of it can be saved, and we can see if there are any early daffodils we can pick for Clemmie’s windowsill. It will cheer her up.’
‘Can I come?’ Iris asked, appearing at the doorway. ‘I don’t want to do girl things all the time.’
Zachariah smiled. ‘I’ll ask Ben to tie a leather pad to my saddle and you can sit in front of me.’
Edward scuffed at the floor again. ‘I love Miss Clemmie and she loves me. She told me so. Perhaps she’ll marry me and we’ll be her family. She’d like that.’
‘No doubt she would, but you’re too young to be married.’
‘You could marry her instead, Uncle Zachariah. Then she’d be our mama and you’d be our papa.’
Edward certainly had it all worked out to his benefit. ‘Did you think that up all by yourself?’
‘That’s what Polly said to Mrs Ogden when I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be listening.’
Zachariah ruffled the boy’s hair, trying not to laugh at his earnest expression. ‘Did she now? Well, we can’t allow the house staff to decide the course of our lives, can we?’
‘No, sir, but it’s a good idea, isn’t it?’
‘You obviously think so, but taking a wife is a big responsibility for any man and it needs careful thought. I’d rather you didn’t talk about this to anyone … especially Miss Clemmie.’
Edward’s little hand went over his heart in a gesture Gabe had always used when they’d been small. It was as if the father had revealed a glimpse of himself in h
is son and sent a little echo to drift out of the distant past and tie them together in the present. He heard his brother’s voice distinctively.
‘I’m sorry, Zed … I’m so sorry.’
Zed … Gabe had always called him that and he grinned. ‘Off you go now, you two. Ask Polly to put your outdoor clothes on so you’ll be warm.’
Any doubts Zachariah held about the children now fled. The affection he’d once held for his late brother catapulted him along on a prolonged shuddering wave, so tears filled his eyes at the poignant sense of loss he experienced.
He felt for a handkerchief and couldn’t find one. The women of the house had claimed them all! He blinked several times as if he’d just emerged from darkness into sudden light.
Gabe’s children would receive all the love and guidance he could give them, Zachariah thought. Alexandra wouldn’t be abandoned either. The girl was not of his blood, but it seemed more than possible that she was his niece and half-sister to the children. It had been cruel to bring her up believing a lie when she had the strongest of blood ties to his late sister-in-law. She would be invited to become part of the Fleet family if that’s what she wanted.
Then there was his darling Clemmie, conceived during a business transaction between a light-skirt and a bigamist, who had tried to do the right thing by her before he went off to face death on behalf of his country. She refused to believe wrong of either of her parents. And why should she when her father had been a hero who’d died defending his country, and her mother had given her all the love she could afford? She had left her child with only good memories before she died from some disease.
He didn’t know how long he’d stood there, gazing out of Gabe’s window remembering the oddments of good things that came from his brother.
As for the family connection between himself and Clemmie, it was so remote that it hardly signified. All the same he would employ his usual caution in the matter, as he must.
He mused how odd it was that five abandoned members of the same family had come together. Like debris floating on different tides they’d washed up together on the same shore, as if the time had come for their collective worth to be discovered.