Hearts of Gold (30 page)

‘Not half as furious as I am just at this moment.’ And because she didn’t want him to think too badly of her, she told him the reason. ‘I have no wish to hurt you or your family, Mr Grimble. But allow me to tell you something that you don’t know. I overheard a phone call between Magnus and Gerald. They have wagered fifty guineas on Gerald’s proposal being accepted or turned down. I also learned there was an earlier wager on which one of them would marry me and collect my legacy. Magnus has yet to follow through with his proposal.’

‘And when he does?’

‘He’ll get the same answer that I gave Gerald.’

‘Ah, now I see it all. You’re going to punish them for the wager by keeping them in suspense.’

‘I need to. I feel so insulted and . . . so crushed. I don’t want to come between them by choosing one over the other.’

‘And the legacy? Surely you don’t think getting rid of it will make any difference to the outcome of this silly wager.’

‘I think they’ll withdraw their favours once I’ve got rid of the cause. If they don’t, then I’ll know that it’s me and not the legacy they’re interested in. Mr John would bang their heads together if he knew what was going on.’

Ignatious’s hand closed over hers. ‘You should choose the man you truly love, my dear, and we both know who that is. As for the wager, put it from your mind. The only people who will benefit from it is the charity that they started together. It benefits impoverished victims of crime. Children who have a breadwinner in prison, and need shoes to go to school. A grandmother who needs a warm blanket.’

Was he telling her this to excuse how she’d been made to feel? If so, it wouldn’t work. ‘You don’t understand, Mr Grimble. If I had a choice, I’d prefer the man who truly loved me. I’m afraid that the pair of them are so used to this rivalry that they’re forgetting that the object of this wager is a woman who will suffer if it all goes wrong.’

‘Try not to punish yourself, my dear. You’re right, the wager is unseemly and irresponsible. There, it is settled, and we shall see what happens.’

It wasn’t until after he’d left that she began to wonder exactly what had been settled.

Dear Mr John,

You might not have noticed, but I am now writing my journal on a fortnightly basis.

Something terrible as well as wonderful has happened. I have fallen in love with Magnus Kern. I am quite besotted with him, although he is a most complicated creature.

However, it’s disagreeable to find myself the object of a wager, like a flitch of bacon hanging from a hook in the ceiling waiting to be claimed. As soon as Magnus does his proposing I shall tell them both that I’ve given my fortune away, and will release them from any obligation they consider themselves to be under. I have decided I shall make my own way in the world.

It was a pleasant New Year party. It was nice to see Mrs Lawrence again, though she is now Mrs Taggard. Olivia came with her husband and children and I was pleased to learn that her friend, Jessica Fenwick, had returned home. Olivia apologized profusely for her earlier behaviour. For the sake of Mr Grimble, I am trying hard to like her.

The Huffs were very jolly. Mrs Huff and I spoke about you. She says you were a rascal in your youth. Alice Carradine is my guest at Fierce Eagles. Gerald pays her much attention and I think they are falling in love. It’s comforting to have a friend of my own in whom I can confide. She is very sweet and calm.

You are still a special memory in my heart, Mr John, but I miss you less, and see Magnus with a clearer eye as a result. I no longer compare him with you, and find fault as a result, but appreciate him for his own good qualities. He has a kind heart, but so likes to provoke.

We had some snow in early February, the first I’ve ever seen. It’s nearly March now and soon I will be nineteen. I’m looking forward to spring.

Dear Mr John, they have not yet caught the murderer who shot you. I will not rest until he has been found and dealt with.

A month later Flynn Collins was becoming restless. He should have done the deed by now, for the longer he stayed in the district, the more likely he’d be recognized and caught.

He gazed around him at the field, now sown with wheat. There were carrots, potatoes and turnips to plant. He was deriving a certain satisfaction from his field labours. He was comfortable in his relationship with Betty, who demanded nothing except what he’d given her, a little pleasure and an infant growing under her snowy white pinny.

He envied the farmer who would bring up that child as his own, for he walked with a new spring in his step and a smile on his face. Flynn wished he could change places with him, for he’d be content to live a life with Betty Perkins. She’d fed him well, and he’d gained considerable weight around his middle.

Now he must get what he was here for over with. For the last few weeks he’d been watching the routine of Magnus Kern, and the coming and goings at Fierce Eagles. Magnus Kern stuck to a regular route and always came home at the same time. At the moment he had a young women guest. Flynn thought she might have been hired as a companion to the younger girl.

He didn’t know who they were. He’d been told that Kern was unmarried, and he didn’t have a sister. One of them must be his woman, then.

Flynn was uneasy. Notwithstanding that he’d shot the old man in the back when his dander was up, shooting a young man in cold blood didn’t sit lightly on his shoulders. But if he didn’t shoot him the price on his head would remain and he’d be fair game for anyone who recognized him, and for the rest of his days. He’d arranged for the dinghy to pick him up in the cove the following night, and hoped the weather improved.

Perhaps he should leave without killing the man. If he just left, the chances of him being recognized in America were slim.

The fact that Betty carried his child was pulling at him. He’d felt as though he’d achieved something worth having, but it would be snatched away from him. He’d never know what the infant would be, and the child would never know his true father.

He’d be better off not knowing. Flynn experienced a swift, remorseful pang in his stomach when he remembered the child he’d left to starve on the goldfields. She’d been a plucky little creature and he wondered – what had happened to her?

Buffeted by a capricious breeze Sarette was walking along the cliff top with Alice Carradine.

Now Mrs Carradine had suggested that it was time Alice return home to London, and her friend would be departing after the weekend. Sarette knew she would would miss Alice.

The expected proposal from Magnus had not eventuated, and now she found it hard to maintain the momentum of her anger. She had decided to release Gerald from the proposal – if not for herself, for the sake of Alice.

Alice’s face took on a quiet glow when she was in Gerald’s presence, and she hung on his every word. How could she keep up this farce when it was obvious that Gerald and Alice adored each other? Sarette thought. Gerald gazed at Alice like a lost puppy every time they were together. He couldn’t do enough for her.

She placed a hand on her friend’s arm, bringing her to a halt. ‘I want you to be the first to know that I’m going to turn Gerald’s proposal down when he arrives for the weekend.’

The joy that momentarily flared in Alice’s eyes was replaced by doubt. ‘Are you quite sure, Sarette? He would make you a worthy husband.’

‘I don’t want someone worthy, Alice dear. I want a man who will love me wholeheartedly, who will make me his mistress as well as his wife. I want to be adored, possessed, fought and played with, then chased around like a mad march hare until I surrender myself.’

Alice’s blue eyes widened, but her voice was full of laughter when she admonished, ‘Sarette, you shouldn’t say such awful things!’

‘Oh, there is only the two of us to hear. Don’t pretend that spring hasn’t got the better of you too. I see you with Gerald, and his eyes make love to you and you blush and stammer and your heart stops beating like that of a spinster and starts pounding like that of a woman in love. You and Gerald were made for each other. He knows it, and so do you. So does everybody who sees you together. I’m beginning to feel guilty for keeping you both apart with that silly proposal of his.’

‘You would give Gerald up for me?’

‘How can I give up something I never had in the first place? Gerald holds a special place in my affection, as I do in his, I think. But we don’t love each other, you goose. It was a wager they had between them. Magnus tricked Gerald into proposing, so he could get me off his hands.’

‘What if Gerald doesn’t want me? I have no money, no position.’

Amusement filled Sarette and she gurgled with laughter. ‘Then you’re no worse off than you were before you came here.’

She gazed down at the farmhouse nestled in the valley. ‘Let’s go and visit Mrs Perkins before we go home. She makes wonderful scones, and I promised to drop in on her the next time I was over this way. She told me she thought she was expecting a baby, and I want to know for sure. Let’s race.’ And she was off, Alice chasing after her.

They flew down the hill, skirting a muddy field where a man was digging in the earth. He straightened, his hands easing his back, then turned to gaze at them.

His face was vaguely familiar, but Sarette wasn’t close enough to see it clearly. She waved to him then picked up speed.

‘Sarette, wait!’ Alice shouted. ‘I’ve got a stitch in my side.’

Laughing and breathless Sarette clambered on to the stile so her skirt was out of the small patch of muck beneath it. As she waited for Alice she noticed that the man was staring at her intently. Her smile faded.

Her memory triggered a vision of a snake. She recalled that there were adders in England and gazed into the undergrowth, trying to stifle the prickling chill of dread that ran up her spine into her neck.

The man turned, then walked rapidly away.

‘Sarette, are you ill? I’ve never seen you look so pale.’

She managed a smile. ‘I shouldn’t have run so fast. I’ll be all right in a minute.’ And she was.

There was no response from Farmer Perkins or his wife to their knock. ‘I’ll check in the stable to see if the cart has gone.’

The only horse in the stable was the plough horse, who turned to stare amiably at them and blew out his breath in a manner that made his lips flap. She giggled. It was warm in the stable, and a ladder led up to the loft.

‘Mrs Perkins,’ she called out.

There was a slight shift in the dark shadows of the loft.

‘Mrs Perkins, is that you? Is anybody there?’

Her ears tuned in to the quietness. It was uneasy, as if someone was standing in the shadows . . . listening . . . waiting. Sarette wondered where the man from the field had gone, and was unnerved when the door behind her banged in the wind. She jumped, wrenched it open and ran out into the blustery day.

Grabbing Alice’s hand she said ‘quick’ and the pair began running away from the farmhouse to the road, until they were both out of breath and were forced to stop and bend forward to catch their breath.

Alice said, when she’d recovered enough to be coherent, ‘This was supposed to be a walk, not a race. What on earth made you take fright?’

‘I don’t know. I had the feeling that there was someone in the stable watching us. Then the door banged in the wind.’ She giggled. ‘Don’t tell Magnus, he’ll only tease me.’

A splatter of rain was borne to them on the wind. She gazed up at the tumultuous streamers of dark ragged clouds racing each other across the sky. ‘We’ll have to hurry if we don’t want to get wet.’

‘I don’t think I’ve got any hurry left in me.’

But they’d barely started on the two-mile trek to the house when Magnus appeared from behind them in the gig. He drew the vehicle to a halt and jumped down, saying, ‘I think we’re in for a dousing. Sarry, you drive yourself and Alice home. I can walk.’

Soon they were on their way. Sarette enjoyed handling the horse and gig. She deposited Alice down on the doorstep of Fierce Eagles, then said, ‘I’m going back for Magnus.’

‘Mind you don’t get soaked.’

‘It’s not very far.’ Turning the light vehicle around she set out, back in the direction she’d come from. Nearly a mile of road had trotted under the horse when Sarette suddenly remembered exactly who the man in the field had been.

‘Flynn Collins,’ she said out loud and the blood began to pound in her ears. So it
had
been the Irishman she’d seen in Dorchester. And although he hadn’t given any indication that he knew her, she remembered Alice shouting out her name just a moment or two before, and remembered the way it had caught Flynn’s attention, and brought about his reaction.

What was Flynn Collins doing here? She was overcome by a thrill of fear when she realized that she was probably the only person who could identify him as the man who’d been convicted of the murder of John Kern.

It was not a coincidence that he was here in the district and working on the land adjoining the estate belonging to the Kern family. He had not come for her, though she was certainly in danger now Collins knew who she was. Lord! What about the price on the Irishman’s head? Did Collins suspect that Magnus had posted the reward, and was about to kill him?

Had Magnus posted it?

She packed her curiosity away as the rain began to sweep across the landscape in miserable, slashing grey curtains. She was drenched and cold when she came across Magnus, who was also dripping with water as he trudged through the storm.

After she’d turned the gig round he climbed up beside her, gave her a wide smile, then kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’re a bedraggled looking angel.’

‘There’s something urgent I need to tell you, Magnus.’

‘When we get home.’ He was about to take the reins from her hands when a shot rang out. Simultaneously he slumped in his seat, his hat spun off into the undergrowth and blood began to run from under his hair.’

Horrified, she stared at him, not quite comprehending. She gave a scream when there was another report and something whined past her ear. It chipped some bark from a tree. She flicked the reins, thinking, bless him for being so calm and well-trained a horse as he responded instantly. Magnus slipped sideways, his head lolling into her lap, where he bled profusely on her skirt.