The Hungry Heart Fulfilled (The Hunger of the Heart Series Book 3) (3 page)

 

 

On a second small
piece of paper she
had written the words:
He's dangerous. Help me get him to leave
before he causes trouble.

 

 

The Bishop nodded,
and said, “I
understand it all perfectly.”

 

 

He was just about
to suggest that
Dalton might like to accompany him back to town to pick his
brains about the
number of immigrants he projected would arrive in Canada that
season, when the
door swung open.

 

 

Adrian entered
without any
announcement from Sissy, thus looking for all the world as if
he were the
master of the house.

 

 

He strode straight
up to Emer and
kissed her on the cheek, as was his wont, while he apologised,
“Sorry I’m late,
my dear. Dratted
meeting took
forever. I’ll
just go wash my
hands and join you in the dining room.”

 

 

He stopped for a
moment as he saw
Dalton, and then proceeded to shake him heartily by the hand.

 

 

“Dalton, my dear
fellow. Delighted
to see you, old chap, delighted. It’s been so long.
And to
think we’ve done nothing but chat about you all morning in our
meeting, and
here you are in the flesh.
Marvellous, really, I am so pleased, eh what?"

 

 

He made things look
that much for
her when he next turned back to the desk and said, "Emer,
darling, I do
hope you don’t mind if I invite Dalton to dinner, do you? I have so
much to
talk to him about. He
was a particular friend of mine years ago, before he took to
globetrotting
around the world.”

 

 

“Well, er, Adrian,
I’m not sure, you
would have to go ask Cook, and in any event, I believe Mr.
Randall was just er,
l-l-leaving,” Emer stammered.

 

 

“Ah well, if you
must go…. Another
time then, dear fellow.
Must dash
now, I’m famished. Come
along,
Emer, the children will be waiting. And I'll wager anything
you like that
you've arranged all my favorites, darling. My mouth is
watering at the prospect
of your roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. ”

 

 

“Why don’t you and
the Bishop go in
then, say grace, and I’ll join you in a minute, dear,” Emer
suggested quickly,
as she tugged on the bell pull for Sissy as though her life
depended on it.

 

 

Dalton's mind was
teeming with
shocked suspicions, but he had little choice except to follow
Emer to the front
door, where Sissy handed him his hat.

 

 

Emer said, “Thank you so much for stopping in to
visit us, but as you can
see....”

 

 

Dalton glowered at
the maid. “Thank
you, girl, that will be all.”

 

 

Sissy scurried away
from him as
though he was the devil himself.

 

 

As soon as she was gone he hissed,
“No you don’t,
Emer. You’re not
getting rid of me
that easily."

 

 

He backed her up against the wall
until his stomach
and thighs pressed intimately against her own. "I want some answers,
and I want them
now.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

 

Emer was sure she
was going to faint
from desire and fear as Dalton pressed his huge, fiercely
aroused body against
her.

 

 

“I need some
answers, Emer, and I'm
not leaving here until I get them. When I last saw you in
August, you were in
my bed, a poor governess, making love to me as though it meant
everything in
the world to you.

 

 

"Now I find you
married to your
fiance Garvan Dillon, whom you swore you never loved, and
pregnant with
goodness only knows whose child, living in a mansion with a
troop of male
visitors and Dr. Adrian Lovell.
I
want to know exactly what the hell you've been up to, and I'm
not leaving here
until you tell me the truth,” Dalton threatened.

 

 

Emer shoved against
his chest
futilely as she struggled to escape from his tantalising
nearness. “What
I’ve done since August ceased to
be your concern when you left me on Grosse Ile then, and never
once tried to
contact me except to....”

 

 

Dalton interrupted
her before she
could say the words “bribe me.”

 

 

He shook his head. “But don’t you see, it
was all a terrible
mistake. I got
your note saying
where you had gone when I was already in Quebec. My ship was
leaving for
Ireland, and I boarded it, hoping to stop off at Grosse Ile
persuade you to
accept my father’s help for you and your family.

 

 

"But I fell ill
that afternoon,
and the boat sailed on into the Atlantic without stopping. My
father went to
find you at the end of August as per my instructions, only to
be told that you
were all dead,” Dalton said angrily.

 

 

Emer listened in
horror to Dalton’s
statements, too shocked to say anything to refute the claims.

 

 

“There must have
been a mistake with
the names or something, with so many poor suffering wretches
on the
island. But you
could have
contacted him. He would have helped, just like I told you.  
You didn’t
have to marry
Garvan! You
loved me, and yet now
I find you after all these months carrying his child.

 

 

"But if you're
married to him,
then what is Adrian Lovell doing here, marching in and out as
though he owns
the place, and kissing you as though you were his, his
mistress, for pity's
sake!” Dalton demanded, as he shook Emer by the shoulders to
get her to look
him in the eyes.

 

 

Emer went limp and
stared at the
floor unseeing, her mind awhirl with what Dalton had just said
to her.

 

 

Was it some trick
again, or was
Dalton really telling the truth?  
That he really
had
believed her dead was evident from the
anguished expression
on his face.

 

 

She wanted to
believe he cared, but
it was all too sudden. Still,
he
looked very ill, and she took in his black mourning clothes
and silver hair
with a mixture of pity and hope.

 

 

Emer decided that
the most sensible
course of action was to stall for time, try to get rid of
Dalton until she
could discuss the matter with the Bishop and get his advice. And she
certainly
couldn't afford a
scandal now, not when all the children were counting on her.

 

 

She took a deep
breath and murmured,
“Dalton, I can understand your having a great number of
questions, as have I,
but the others are waiting for me inside, and I fear no
purpose can be served
by raking up the past. I
heard
them call the banns for your wedding on Thursday. I wish you
every happiness,
but I think it’s time you left. 
I hope we may meet cordially as friends one day when
all of this is long
forgotten.”

 

 

“Emer, you can’t be
serious. I am
not leaving here until....”

 

 

“Until you taste
some of Marion’s
delicious roast beef and Yorkshire pudding,” Myrtle’s voice
said behind them.

 

 

She had silently
let herself in the
front door, and it was clear to Emer from the look on her face
that she had
observed the entire scene.

 

 

Dalton released
Emer abruptly, and
both turned to face the speaker.

 

 

Myrtle looked
sharply at Emer, and
then gave a broad smile of welcome to Dalton.

 

 

“How lovely to see
you again,
Dalton, dear.  It’s
been much
too long since we had a gallop across the old dance floor.”

 

 

“Miss Chandler, the
pleasure is all
mine, I’m sure,” Dalton responded gallantly as he bowed over
Myrtle’s hand.

 

 

“If it’s such a
pleasure, then you
can’t possibly refuse to be my dinner companion, now can you,
Dalton,” Myrtle
said with a grin, as she took his arm and led him away from
Emer.

 

 

“I’m sure Mr.
Randall has a pressing
engagement elsewhere,” Emer said, the strain in her voice
apparent to her
friend.

 

 

But Myrtle was
determined to get
some answers of her own, and refused to allow Emer to run away
from Dalton any
longer.

 

 

“Nonsense, you have
nothing better
to do than spend the day with us, now do you, Dalton?” Myrtle
said quickly as
she continued to lead him down the hall.

 

 

“If you’re sure I’m
not intruding,”
Dalton mumbled, looking back over his shoulder at Emer in
confusion.

 

 

Now he was more
puzzled than ever.
Just what was Emer's role in this house, and how on earth had
she become
friends with a woman as wealthy and important as Myrtle
Chandler?

 

 

Perhaps this was
Myrtle’s house
after all? Or
Adrian’s?
It was all such a jumble…

 

 

Emer stood silently
cursing her
friend for interfering.
She knew
something was badly wrong so far as what Dalton had said his
father had told
him about her, but to have an open confrontation with each
other in front of
the children in the dining hall would be unthinkable.

 

 

Myrtle looked back
now too and urged
her gently, “Come on, they’re waiting, and the food will be
cold if we don’t
hurry.”

 

 

Emer nodded, and
understood Myrtle’s
reassuring glance. But
her one
last worry was the Jenkinses. She hurried to catch up to them
now and said,
“Myrtle, could you go on ahead into the kitchen and tell all
the staff that I
want them to wait for me there for a few minutes? I’ll seat
our guest.”

 

 

Myrtle nodded, and
headed the rest
of the way down the long hall toward the back of the house.

 

 

Emer looked up at
him and pointed to
her right. "This way."

 

 

Dalton took Emer’s
arm possessively
to escort her in.

 

 

"You are to be on
your best
behaviour at the meal, do you hear?" she commanded in an
undertone.

 

 

"Yes, of course,
Emer. I'm not
a complete savage, you know."

 

 

Then she pulled
open the two white
doors to the dining room.

 

 

Dalton nearly
fainted as he saw
hundreds of children all seated at the tables heartily tucking
into their
dinner, with the Bishop and Adrian at the head of two other
tables seated with
various other men and women who looked vaguely familiar.

 

 

Emer cast a warning
glance at
Patrick Bradley the first mate, and seated Dalton by the
Bishop.

 

 

“Myrtle will be in
to keep you
company in a minute, Mr. Randall. I just have to go see some staff
about the meal,” Emer
said quietly.

 

 

She went into the
kitchen and
hastily told Sam and Emily Jenkins that Dalton had turned up
out of the
blue.

 

 

“Now I want both of
you to promise
me that you won’t say a word to him about what has happened to
you, not
one. I’ll try to
get rid of him as
soon as possible so he never troubles us again, but to rake up
the past would
only hurt him, and cause bitter feelings."

 

 

Emily Jenkins'
brows knit. "But
Emer--"

 

 

"He may or may not
have had any
part in your dismissal. I can’t honestly tell. But I do know that
his father will cause
us as much trouble
as he can if he finds out we’re all here together. So you will
say nothing, is
that understood?”

 

 

Sam Jenkins
declared vehemently,
“We’ll stay in here, then, Emer. I refuse to eat in the same
room with that
lying bast—"

 

 

“Er, yes. Fine
then, and I am
sorry. He’ll
leave soon, I
promise. It was Myrtle’s silly idea to invite him in the first
place. She just
wasn’t thinking how much trouble
it could cause.”

 

 

“How did he find
you, Emer?” Emily
asked with a worried frown.

 

 

Emer sighed. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you
later.” She turned and
left the older couple staring at her with grim expressions on
their normally
placid faces.

 

 

She went back into
the dining room
to take her place, and had to endure what felt like the
longest Sunday dinner
in history as she watched Dalton chat with the Bishop and
Myrtle, and heard
herself being praised to the skies.

 

 

“Er, Garvan Dillon,
where is
he?” Emer heard
him ask, and felt
herself go crimson.

 

 

“Who?” Myrtle
asked.

 

 

“Emer’s husband
Garvan?” Dalton
persisted.

 

 

“Emer’s husband was
called Oran, and
he’s dead now,” Myrtle replied.

 

 

Emer felt Dalton’s
eyes resting upon
her speculatively as she passed the jug of lemonade and tried
to avoid his
piercing golden gaze.

 

 

After the sponge
cake had been
served, and the tea drunk, Emer prayed that Dalton would
leave. But he seemed
intent on lingering, and began to mingle with the children,
taking Cathan aside
to ask him about what had befallen him since they had last
seen each other.

 

 

Emer hadn’t
confided in Cathan about
the terrible things she had believed Dalton guilty of, and so
the boy was
clearly delighted to see his old friend from the
Pegasus