Hearts of Gold (3 page)

His uncle’s present address was quite a step down from Fierce Eagles, once his uncle’s home, and now the property of himself, the last to bear the Kern family name. The house was named after the stone eagles perched atop each gatepost, which gazed fiercely down at visitors as they passed through, and those after the business the Kern family had derived its livelihood from.

His solid home was of a size easily managed by a half a dozen servants. It drew its income from land rents and the interest paid from investments. Magnus Kern had a personal fortune of fifty thousand pounds a year, a fortune inherited from his father.

As had he, but it worried Magnus not at all that the fortune he’d inherited had been gathered in the first place from thievery and smuggling. Honest he might be known as, but Magnus knew when to close his eyes and look the other way.

The deeds to Fierce Eagles had been gifted to him by his uncle John before he’d left for the Antipodes. Magnus’s name had been added to the deed, his uncle’s signature witnessed and notarized by his solicitor.

In vain Magnus had argued, ‘You’re only fifty years of age, still young enough to marry and father a child again.’

‘Nay, Magnus. There was only ever one woman for me, and my marriage was riches indeed. When I lost her I knew I could never love another. And when my sweet girl followed her mother to the grave just as she began to blossom into womanhood, my heart began to die inside me. Since then I’ve willed myself to stop breathing with each dawn that comes.’

‘But the house—’

‘Is yours now. Find yourself a woman you can love and live with for ever. Preferably a wicked one, who can give you as good as she gets in bed. Fill her with your children, give her your heart, smack her arse when she needs it and be content. With me leaving, this house has seen the last of its wild days.’

Magnus had laughed at that. ‘I will be forever looking at things and wondering which pirate brought home that, and which smuggler risked his life with the revenue men. You must consider me tame compared with yourself and my ancestors.’

‘Not tame, just honest, and there’s a certain bravery in that. You enjoy life, and you have a reputation amongst the fairer sex as well as being an astute judge of mankind. You deserve a house such as this one. It wears its current reputation badly, and needs someone like you to bring it some dignity. It punished me, but it will treat you kindly if you do the same by it. I promise you, Fierce Eagles will give you a huge amount of prestige, which will attract the most deliciously naughty of the damsels to your side. They will like the reputation of your ancestry, and secretly hope you make as dangerous a husband as you look as if you might.’

Magnus had tried to hide his grin. He’d never have thought that his uncle would wax so poetic. ‘You’re trying to shackle me before I’ve finished sowing my wild oats. You should take your own advice.’

He remembered the sadness that had come into his uncle’s eyes. ‘I’ll never be able to live at Fierce Eagles again. I’m off on my last adventure, before the final one calls me. If I grow tired of wandering I’ll return and reside in the house I bought in Bournemouth. I’ll gaze at the sea and the coast and dream of the time your father and grandfather, and every other Kern before us, lived a life of adventure and took on the authorities and won.’

‘Except for my father.’

‘Aye lad, and to my infinite sorrow, for I loved my brother dearly. But he gave me you to care for, and I’m so proud of you. If he’s looking down, or looking up, whichever is appropriate, he’d be extremely proud of his son, too. As for me, who would have thought that John Kern would eventually earn his living by his wits and the sweat of his brow.’

‘Good luck with the venture. Keep me informed of your progress.’

Magnus had been taken in a bear hug, and his uncle’s voice had been thick with the emotion of the parting. ‘You’ll know when I’ve struck it rich. I’ll send you some gold. Look after my dog.’

With that John Kern had turned away and strode off. Now and again Magnus received a letter from him, but they were few. He gazed down at his uncle’s elegant hand.

At twenty-four he was hardly an ageing roué yet, Magnus thought, and he grinned. He couldn’t imagine marrying a woman who fluttered.

The letter was dated a year after John’s uncle had arrived in the colony, and had taken six months to get to him. Now it was February and he was a few weeks off the birthday after, when he’d be twenty-five years of age.

He crossed to the window and gazed out at the day. The grass was crisp with frost and the early morning air was blue with smoke rising from the chimneys. The sky was clear, and he doubted that it would rain. Today he had business to conduct, a meeting with Ignatious Grimble, family friend and the solicitor who’d always managed John Kern’s affairs. Together they’d inspect his uncle’s house in Bournemouth, note any maintenance needed, and make sure that all was well with the tenants before the lease was renewed for a further year. He had to be careful with tenants, since as far as he knew, the rent was his uncle’s only source of income now.

After that he would call on Isabelle, surprise her for her birthday, even though she wasn’t expecting him. He took a small box from his desk and slipped it into his pocket.

Smiling, he strode into the hall, shrugged into the long coat and overcape that his manservant held out, then pulled on his gloves and went out to the waiting gig.

His horse was impatient for exercise. Steam snorted from his nostrils and he stamped his forelegs when Magnus approached. Stepping into the gig, Magnus settled himself and took the reins from the stable hand. ‘Thanks, Robert.’

‘He’s frisky this morning, sir, ’tis the cold.’ Robert looked as though he was about to say something else as he fussed with the bridle.

‘What is it Robert? I have to get going.’

‘Branston noticed that the post arrived yesterday and—’

‘You want to know if I heard from John Kern?’ He smiled at the loyalty still shown to John by his former staff. ‘Yes, I did receive a letter from him. You can tell the staff that at the time of writing he was in an area called Coolgardie, which is situated to the west of the Australian continent. He was quite well and is looking for gold. He’s built himself a . . . dwelling of sorts.’

Robert grinned happily at that. ‘The master was allus good with his hands, and pitched in when any maintenance was needed on the house.’

‘Quite.’ Magnus allowed the mistake to go by, though by now they should be thinking of himself as their master. ‘My uncle also wished us all a happy Christmas for the one before last. Rather belated, I’m afraid.’

‘The sentiment’s the same. Thank you, sir. The staff will be relieved to hear that he’s all right.’

‘He’s given me instructions to crack open a bottle of brandy and drink his health, so if you would all present yourself to the library this evening after dinner, we shall do that and I’ll read you his letter.’

‘That’s right nice of him, sir. And of you, of course.’ Robert tipped his cap and moved off, hugging his arms against his body to ward off the cold.

The horse nearly jerked the reins from his hands.

‘Have some patience, and kindly remember you’re between the shafts today.’

When they were safely past the stone eagles and on the open road, Magnus had to fight to keep the beast under his control. After a while the gelding settled into a comfortable trot and he breathed a sigh of relief. With thirty miles to cover he didn’t want the animal winded when they’d hardly started out.

Later in the morning, he stopped outside Ignatious Grimble’s mansion and handed his rig over to the groom. His horse could rest before the return journey. From here they would walk up the hill and along the west cliff to his uncle’s house, which overlooked the sea.

Ignatious Grimble was beginning to resemble a turtle, Magnus thought as they shook hands and started walking through the town centre. He wondered how old Ignatious was, since he’d also been his grandfather’s solicitor. Magnus vaguely remembered him from his childhood, but couldn’t remember him looking any younger than he did now. He was sprightly enough though, and had fathered eleven children from two wives, now deceased.

‘You look more like your father and uncle every time I see you,’ Ignatious said. ‘The Kern blood runs strongly in you. They were all imposing-looking men.’

‘As long as it’s only their looks I’ve inherited.’

A cackle of laughter came from the old man. ‘You would have enjoyed the adventurous life they led, I’m sure. When he was a young man, about your age, your great-great-great-grandfather cuckolded the local magistrate and had to live abroad for a while. He ended up in Corsica. There he purchased a ship and became a pirate, building up his networks. He made himself a fortune.’

‘And he married Esmerelda Rey, the daughter of one of his partners in crime, brought her back to England and set up house in Fierce Eagles.’

‘Isolated, and perfect for smuggling goods into England.’

‘Yes, Mr Grimble. It’s certainly that, and I’ve been brought up on tales of the exploits of my ancestry.’ Not caring if he sounded prim, he added, ‘I feel no urge to emulate them.’

‘I’m sure you don’t, Magnus. Nearly everyone got ahead by dishonest means in those days. Money meant power, and plunder and smuggling became a Kern family enterprise.’

‘Which stops with me. If I ever have sons they’ll be brought up to earn a decent and honest living. I don’t want to risk early death from a bullet or a hangman’s rope, and leave them orphaned.’

‘Your father made provision for you, and your uncle did a good job of bringing you up.’

Magnus gave a faint smile. ‘John told me it was too late for him, but as the last of the Kerns it was my moral duty to redeem the family name.’

‘I’m sure that’s something you will do admirably.’

As they began to head up the cliff road Magnus slowed his step to accommodate the older man’s. He chuckled. ‘Are you? Others are not quite so certain of my honesty. More often than not I manage to attract shady characters to my law business.’

‘Somebody has to represent them.’

‘But I rarely make any money.’

Ignatious sighed. ‘You have an ample fortune in investments behind you, Magnus. You don’t need to earn more money. Look at it this way. By and large, the wealth you already have was not honestly earned. You’re giving a little of it back to the poor, in kind. I imagine that’s what your uncle meant by moral duty and redemption of the family name.

‘Magnus Kern, philanthropist?’ This time he laughed. ‘Considering my background, my Uncle John sets a high standard for me.’

‘He does, but he was of the opinion that most men would surrender pride for a price, while you would do the opposite.’

Magnus laughed at that and his glance went to the sea. The air was fresh and bracing, the water a pewter stretch of ripples into a horizon that was almost white. The tide was on the ebb leaving a pattern of damp, ridged sand behind. Seagulls followed the foamy hem of the water, pecking up stranded baby crabs and transparent shrimps as they were uncovered. Along the water mark a man walked with his dog.

Magnus recalled that his uncle’s old dog had died not long after his master had left. He’d gone to sleep on the rug in front of the fire and hadn’t bothered to wake, knowing his adventuring days were over. Magnus hadn’t replaced him.’

‘I heard from my uncle today. The letter was written six months ago. He was in a place called Coolgardie that’s situated in the west.’

‘An odd name for a town.’

‘I was wondering if you’d had any more recent news of him since.’

‘John’s not a man to be found unless he wants to be.’ Grimble flicked him a look. ‘But aye, he does report in to a mutual agent from time to time. There was a telegraph message from him about three months ago. He was well, and was still looking for gold.’

‘Is that all he said?’

‘He said he was managing quite well, and that the lack of personal comforts and the hardship and the poverty of others had changed his priorities, and . . .’

‘And?’

‘That was just about it. The house looks well from the outside doesn’t it?’

‘Mr Grimble. You’re trying to sidetrack me.’

The man stopped at the white-painted gate.
Smuggler’s View
the house was called. ‘Apt . . . very apt,’ Grimble murmured, and turned back to him. ‘May I remind you that I’m your uncle’s solicitor as well as his friend. I handle John’s affairs personally, while my sons manage the rest of the business. I keep confidential the business between us and carry out his wishes to the letter. Rest assured, if anything untoward happens, I will make sure you are informed and consulted with immediately.’