Close to the Wind

by Zana Bell

  Georgiana’s face lit up. ‘Tired? Not at all! Are you serious? They have a theatre here?’

  He laughed at her delighted disbelief. ‘Apparently they have several. Hard to believe, isn’t it? But of course there are lots of young men with pockets of money and little entertainment other than drinking and gambling, so the enterprising are designing ways of alleviating them of a little of their wealth.’

  ‘How wonderful! What is the play?’

  ‘An opera, actually. The Barber of Seville, but don’t get your hopes up too much. It’ll probably be very amateurish.’

  ‘I don’t mind in the slightest! What a treat. Come on, we need to eat fast.’

  ‘No, we have plenty of time, relax,’ and Harry poured her some more wine, ignoring the waiter who was clearly wanting to serve the lovely young woman.

  They chatted over the meal and later strolled arm in arm down the street to the theatre which was lit with hissing gas lamps. Like everything in New Zealand, the veneer of culture was paper thin as the cold light of day would have shown the curtains to be threadbare and the stage and chairs removable, as the theatre was also an auction room. But Georgiana was captivated by it all. She appeared oblivious to the musty smell of mice Harry could discern and seemed inured to the draughts that whistled around their necks. Instead she watched the performance with rapt, though measuring eyes. She hummed along with some of the songs and was enthusiastic in her applause. Harry watched her almost as much as he watched the opera.

  As they walked back to the hotel along the street which flickered with shadows from the gas lights, Georgiana let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. ‘What a splendid night. Thank you, Harry. I have quite put worries of Tom and Charlie from my mind.’

  ‘Good. And tomorrow we will begin our search.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Was it his imagination or was her answer unusually subdued? It must be tiredness finally catching up, he thought, because Georgiana was uncharacteristically quiet for the rest of the walk.

  They mounted the stairs of their hotel and Harry escorted her to her door. He bid her good evening and was just turning to go when Georgiana put a hand on his sleeve.

  ‘Harry?’

  She was suddenly looking very grave but determined, which perplexed Harry. She’d been in such high spirits most of the evening. ‘What is it?’

  She bit her lip. ‘Could you come inside for one moment, there’s something I want to say.’ He glanced about them and she added impatiently, ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Harry, no one’s about. Come in quick.’

  She pushed open her door and entered, beckoning for him to follow, and Harry, wondering what the hell she was up to now, stepped into her room and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  While Harry went to the bedside table to light the kerosene lamp, Georgiana ran her palms down her skirts, drawing in a deep breath. This was it.

  The light flared, illuminating his perfect features, and for a second her resolve faltered. Surely she must have imagined the expression she’d thought had been in his eyes all evening. A man like that could never seriously be interested in a girl like her. Fears of rejection and failure once more threatened to overwhelm her.

  Her uncertainty must have shown in her face because, as he turned to look at her, Harry’s wary look was replaced by concern as he took both her hands in his. ‘Georgie? Are you worried about tomorrow? You have my word I won’t rest until I find Charlie.’

  ‘No, it’s not that.’

  His hands tightened on her fingers. ‘Mellors, then. I promise I won’t let that scoundrel within a mile of you.’

  That made her laugh. ‘I’ve scarcely thought about him since we left Christchurch,’ she said. It was true. During these past few days with Harry, she’d felt as though nothing and no one could ever endanger her. Withdrawing her hands from his, she stepped away towards the window. For a second she pressed her fingers to her mouth. There was no role she could find for this moment. This had to be her. Georgiana da Silva. She turned and looked at Harry.

  ‘I once told you I knew who you were and what you were.’

  He flinched, the wary look back. ‘Yes, I remember.’

  ‘I was wrong then. Entirely wrong. I said terrible things that night. But now I do know. I know you, Harry Trent.’ She drew in another breath and spoke her next words very calmly, very deliberately. ‘I know who you are and what you are. And before we find out tomorrow about Charlie and Mr Sedgewick, I want you to know that I love you.’

  A silence stretched and stretched about them. Harry’s face was unreadable. She discovered her hands were shaking and clenched them hard. She shouldn’t have said anything. Never before had she felt so exposed, so vulnerable.

  Then Harry said, ‘Oh God, Georgie, don’t do this now.’

  She made a small, helpless gesture. ‘I have to.’

  ‘You don’t understand – I could be arrested any time, sent back to England to face the gallows.’

  ‘I know. That is exactly why I am telling you now.’

  He fell back a pace as though distance could stop her words. ‘I will not have you giving your heart to a man wanted for murder.’

  She took a step forward, smiling a little. ‘This time you cannot forbid me, Harry. Your only choices are to accept it or not.’

  Both his hands came up as though to fend her off. ‘If I don’t clear my name, I’ll be on the run forever.’

  ‘I don’t care. I just want to be with you.’

  ‘It will be different of course, if I’m an earl – but I cannot guarantee it, Georgie.’

  She took another two steps forward. ‘I don’t need a guarantee.’

  He shook his head. ‘This is the wrong time, don’t you see? At present I am nothing more than a penniless captain wanted for murder. I have nothing to offer you.’ She heard the pain in this admission.

  She reached up and put her hand on his cheek. ‘I’m only a circus brat. All I want is you.’

  He stood very still, his only movement the muscle twitching in his jaw. ‘Georgie, stop now, I warn you.’

  Instead, she took his face between her two palms and gently pulled it down to hers. He didn’t resist. Almost unbearably slowly, his mouth came down to meet hers.

  His lips were very warm and firm against hers. For a moment they lingered and then, with a sigh of regret or reluctance or both, Harry began to pull away. Georgiana’s fingers moved to his hair and she anchored his head, pressing her mouth more firmly against his. Instinctively her lips parted and, as the kiss deepened, she gave an involuntary sigh of pleasure.

  It was as though that sigh undid all Harry’s resolutions. He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan as his arms tightened about her, locking her to him. His mouth was no longer gentle as it took control with a new urgency.

  Fire ran through her veins, awakening a hunger to match his. His hair was thick and silky under her fingers, his breath warm on her face, his mouth tasting both of danger and homecoming. She could smell soap and wine and Harry’s own distinctive scent that always carried a hint of salt winds and sea.

  Then his mouth left hers and soft, slow-burning kisses explored her face, her closed eyes, before travelling down to her shoulders, across to her neck. She wove her fingers tighter into his hair, binding him to her. And then suddenly he stopped, pulling away. Just like that. His breathing was ragged as he leaned his forehead against hers. She tried to pull his mouth to hers again, but he shook his head.

  ‘We must stop now, Georgie.’ His voice was hoarse.

  ‘Why? I love you, Harry. I want to have at least one night with you. Who knows what will happen tomorrow.’

  He straightened, his fingers touching her lips, then he stepped back. She could see he was shaking with the effort of his self-restraint. ‘I will not seduce you,
Georgiana. You deserve better than that. If I take you, I want to take you as my wife. And if – God forbid – I should swing, I want you to one day be able to go honestly to your future husband’s bed. There’ll be no shadow over your marriage, if anything happens to me.’

  ‘Harry!’ She could have stamped her foot at him. Was there ever such an infuriatingly honourable, noble idiot! But he had already stepped away and was running his hands through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. His eyes, the same blue as the centre of a flame, met hers ruefully. ‘Oh God, Georgie. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Will you try to understand? You came to me honestly, with your own name tonight. I want to be able to do the same with you.’

  His body was taut as a drawn bow. If she made one movement, she knew his control would desert him. She ached to know how that felt, but his eyes beseeched hers. With a smile that broke halfway, she nodded.

  Harry breathed out, long and slow. ‘Georgie, you have tested me on more levels than any other woman I’ve ever known. But I swear, I will clear my name or die trying. I must go before I change my mind. Goodnight. Sleep well.’ He gave a short, ironic laugh. ‘I won’t! But we have a big day tomorrow.’

  ‘Goodnight, Harry.’

  He crossed to the door, his hand went out to the handle. Then in two strides he was back before her. She looked up into his face. He smiled down at her, once more the man always in control of his feelings. Then he took her face between two warm hands and kissed her very slowly, very deeply. Once again her knees went weak, her senses swam. But this time she knew his kisses did not stem from uncontrollable hunger but from something far stronger, far more lasting. When he at last raised his head, he looked into her eyes. ‘I love you, too, Georgiana da Silva.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The following morning Georgiana was awake early. It had taken her a long time to get to sleep and now she luxuriated in a euphoric sense of wellbeing. Charlie would be found. Mr Sedgewick would be found and she and Harry could then marry and live happily forever. With difficulty she forced herself to stay in bed until she heard the hotel stir, then she rose and dressed. A soft knock some time later had her rushing to fling her door open.

  ‘Harry! I’ve been waiting forever for you.’

  He grinned. In the early morning light he looked more splendid than ever, especially as she could see happiness deep in his eyes. ‘And I have waited an entire lifetime for you – a relatively peaceful, untrammelled life, I might add.’

  Rosy happiness washed through her right down to her toes. ‘Then you were in need of livening up, Captain Trent. But you know what I mean – I’m talking about Charlie.’

  ‘I know.’ He offered his arm. ‘But the post office won’t open for another half-hour yet. Breakfast?’

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t even think about eating until I know how Charlie is.’

  So they walked about Dunedin in the chilly, early morning air. Georgiana found it hard to describe how she was feeling. Apprehensive, excited but, above all, deliciously happy. She turned her face up to Harry and confessed somewhat shyly, ‘When I woke up, I wondered if last night had been a dream.’

  ‘Then let me dispel such notions.’ He pulled her into an alley, away from the curious gaze of the early morning loiterers, and kissed her thoroughly. ‘There, does that reassure you?’

  ‘Hm,’ she put her head to one side. ‘Well, almost.’

  Harry laughed and immediately took advantage of such an invitation. His fingers slid down her sides, over her bodice with its stays beneath and the ridges of the small crinoline. ‘Damned feminine trappings.’

  ‘I could get my trousers out,’ she suggested.

  His laugh caught in his throat. ‘The sight of you in those were a torture to me.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes, really. And stop looking so pleased about it.’

  She laughed, leaning her forehead into his shoulder and inhaling the delicious smell of maleness through the fabric of his jacket. His arms around her felt very safe.

  ‘Will we find Charlie?’

  ‘You can bet on it.’

  ‘And Mr Sedgewick?’

  ‘Without a doubt. My future happiness absolutely depends upon it.’

  She raised her face and leaned back in his embrace so that he could kiss her again, which he obligingly did. A bell tolled.

  ‘There. Nine o’clock.’ Georgiana tore herself out of his embrace. ‘We must go.’

  ‘I feel so used,’ Harry complained. ‘Were you just filling in time?’

  ‘We’ll fill some more later,’ she promised. ‘Come on.’

  When she walked into the post office to which she had sent so many letters from England, Georgiana found her heart racing. Her fingers tightened on Harry’s arm and his other hand came up to cover them in a warm grasp.

  ‘Now the clerk may not know anything about your brother,’ Harry warned. ‘He’ll see so many young men he may not remember – but that might not mean anything, understood?’

  ‘Understood,’ she whispered.

  They approached the counter and Harry addressed the bespectacled clerk. ‘We are looking for a Charles da Silva. Do you know the name?’

  The clerk was evasive. ‘Who wants him?’

  ‘Me,’ said Georgiana stepping forward. ‘He’s my brother.’

  ‘Is he now?’ The clerk looked measuringly at her. ‘He’s talked of you. And where did you spring from?’

  ‘She’s come from England having heard her brother was dangerously ill. We need to know if he is alive.’

  ‘Alive? Course he’s alive. Was very sick mind you, but bounced back. Was here just a month ago and very disappointed he was at having no letters. As full of cheek as ever.’

  Georgiana laughed aloud in her relief. She was not surprised the clerk remembered her brother. People always did, not just because of his unusual name but also because of his wide grin, his friendliness, his execrable jokes.

  ‘I knew he couldn’t be dead,’ she said, but still she felt herself go limp and was glad to have Harry’s hand lightly holding her elbow. ‘Where can I find him?’

  It turned out that Charles had decided to check out some land further south but where, exactly, the clerk did not know.

  ‘But he said he’d be back in a month and that’s some weeks ago so he may be returning anytime soon. He’ll come by here, always does. You tell me where you are staying, I’ll send him over to you directly.’

  ‘I’m at the Provincial,’ said Georgiana, ‘and I won’t stir from town till he’s returned!’

  As they quit the post office, Harry glanced up and down the street. It was busier now, but everything seemed normal. No sign of Mellors’ hulking frame amongst the men going about their business.

  ‘I can’t believe I’m going to see Charlie soon. It seems unbelievable, incredible! I cannot tell you how relieved and overjoyed I am.’

  Harry smiled. ‘You don’t have to. You are lit up like a candelabra. Happiness suits you, Georgie.’

  And it did, but much as he loved to see her bubbling with delight, Harry was not at all comfortable walking through the town in broad daylight. If Mellors put the local police force onto him – and he was quite sure the man would do just that – he could be arrested at any moment. It was with an effort he walked normally without casting glances over his shoulder.

  With his own brand of devil’s luck, however, locating Malcolm Sedgewick’s mining supplies shop proved to be far quicker and easier than they had ever imagined. Even as they began walking down Princes Street, there it was: Sedgewick’s written in large letters over one doorway. They went into the cramped shop but, again, their quest proved unsuccessful. Sedgewick had just taken a large number of supplies up to the goldfields where profits were far higher.

  ‘When will he be back?’ Har
ry asked. ‘It’s urgent that I speak to him. Has anyone else been asking for him?’

  The shop assistant shook his head. ‘There’s no one been asking for him saving yourself and I don’t know when he’ll be back. But he was going first to Arrowtown, I know that for a fact. There’s a coach leaving in an hour you could catch if you’ve a mind to go after him.’

  Harry stepped closer, his voice more urgent. ‘If anyone else comes looking for him, don’t tell them where he is, do you understand?’

  The shop assistant looked anxious. ‘Is there going to be trouble? I don’t want no trouble – not here. I’m not paid enough for any sort of malarkey.’

  Harry smiled reassuringly and slid several notes over the counter to the man. ‘There’ll be no trouble as long as you hold your tongue.’ The assistant picked up the notes, folded them and slipped them into the pocket of his waistcoat before nodding.

  When they were back on the street, Georgiana was shocked. ‘You bribed that man!’

  ‘Mellors will be on our heels.’ Harry couldn’t keep the grim note out of his voice.

  ‘Will it work?’

  Harry shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Somehow I doubt it. That fellow has all the resolve of a wet straw.’

  Georgiana tucked her hand into his arm once more. This time it was she trying to give comfort and he smiled down. Inside, his stomach twisted. The trouble with love, he discovered, was that suddenly he had so much to lose. If Mellors broke the shop assistant—

  ‘You have to go look for Sedgewick,’ Georgiana said abruptly.

  ‘What?’ He pulled himself out of his thoughts and glanced down at her. ‘No. I told you, I’m not leaving you, Georgie, till I deliver you to your brother.’

  ‘It’s as good as done. The clerk said he would tell Charlie where I was staying the minute he came in. But you need to go.’

  ‘I won’t risk Mellors tracking you down.’

  ‘Harry, stop being heroic. Think about it. Tom won’t be bothering about me too much at the moment. He knows no one would ever take my word over Walsingham’s. Sedgewick will be his first priority. With the marriage certificate destroyed and Sedgewick’s silence ensured – one way or another – then you remain the number one suspect and he and Walsingham will walk away free. You have to beat him to Arrowtown. Everything – including Sedgewick’s life – is at stake.’ Harry was silent but she continued, ‘I’ll be fine here. It’s a small town and the hotel is a reputable one. What harm could I come to?’