The Orphan's Dream (34 page)

A black-coated waiter hovered anxiously at their table as Mirabel studied the menu with unseeing eyes. Her mind had gone completely blank, and for once she was at a loss as to what to do next. She looked up at him dazedly. ‘I'm sorry, what did you say?'

‘He said that the clam chowder is good,' Gertie said without giving him a chance to respond. She waved her hand to attract his attention. ‘Yes, mate. Two of them, please.' Waiting until he was out of earshot she leaned across the table, lowering her voice. ‘Are you all right, Mabel? You're whiter than the tablecloth.'

‘I'm just tired. I didn't get much sleep last night.' Mirabel picked up the starched white table napkin but it slipped through her fingers, and as she bent down to retrieve it she spotted someone she thought she recognised. ‘That man sitting by the window, Gertie,' she said urgently. ‘He's not looking this way, but I'm sure I know him.'

GERTIE SPUN ROUND,
craning her neck to follow Mirabel's gaze. The setting sun shone on the young man's fair hair, creating a golden halo around his well-shaped head. ‘I think you're right,' Gertie said, chuckling. ‘What a coincidence.'

‘Not really.' Mirabel studied him carefully, taking in the details of his expensive well-cut jacket, and immaculate trousers with knife-edge creases. She rose to her feet and made her way between the tables where businessmen and commercial travellers were taking their meals. There was a brief lull in the conversation as they turned to stare at her but she ignored them, holding her head high as she approached the table by the window. She cleared her throat to attract his attention and he looked round with a slow smile of recognition. Ethan Munroe stood up, holding out his hand. ‘Mirabel, upon my honour, this is a pleasant surprise. I thought you were deep in the Florida everglades.'

She breathed a sigh of relief. It was wonderful to see a familiar face. ‘It's a long story, Ethan.'

‘I'd be delighted to have you join me for dinner.' He glanced over her shoulder. ‘Where's that husband of yours? Are you dining alone?'

‘Gertie is with me, but Hubert is extremely unwell. I really need some advice because I have to get him home to England before . . .' Her voice broke on a suppressed sob. ‘I'm sorry. It's been a long day and we sailed through a storm last night. I'm just tired.'

He pulled up a chair and pressed her down on the seat. ‘I'm happy to be of service in any way I can.' He beckoned to Gertie. ‘You must both join me. You'll feel better when you've eaten.'

Gertie needed no second bidding. She took her seat opposite Ethan, interposing frequently when Mirabel faltered over her account of their travels and the difficulties they had encountered during Hubert's quest for the ghost orchid. The waiter brought their food and Ethan ordered a bottle of wine, listening attentively as he filled their glasses. Mirabel faltered when it came to repeating the doctor's grim prognosis. ‘But he may be wrong,' she added defensively. ‘Doctors don't always get things right, do they?'

‘Indeed they don't,' Ethan said earnestly. ‘Take Mrs D'Angelo, for instance. She started to speak again while you were visiting, and now she seems to be well on the road to recovery. Jerusha says it's a miracle but I just think the time was right. Betsy waited until she was good and ready and then she came back to us. Maybe it will be the same with Mr Kettle.'

Gertie dipped her bread in the creamy chowder, keeping her head down over her food, saying nothing, but Mirabel was not convinced by Ethan's optimism. ‘I do hope so,' she said vaguely.

‘In any event, I must insist on taking you back to Loblolly Grove.' He refilled his own glass. ‘I know it's what Jerusha and her pa would want me to do.' He reached across the table to cover Mirabel's hand with his, and his eyes brimmed with sympathy. ‘You are tuckered out, Mrs Kettle. It's plain for all to see, and if you should fall sick there'll be no one to look after your husband. I suggest that you accompany me back to Richmond tomorrow morning, and that you postpone your journey home until Mr Kettle is well enough to travel. What do you say to that?'

Ethan had sent word ahead, and when his carriage drew up outside the mansion Jerusha and her father were waiting for them on the veranda. Jerusha rushed down the steps to fling her arms around Mirabel. ‘I declare I was so excited when the messenger brought the news this morning. I've been running to the window every few minutes to look out to see if you were coming, and here you are.'

Ethan and Bodger lifted Hubert to the ground, placing him in a chair that Amos had had the forethought to bring from the house. Vincent D'Angelo descended the steps more slowly, greeting Mirabel with equal enthusiasm. He leaned down to speak to Hubert, who lolled helplessly against the back of the chair. ‘It's good to see you again, sir. We'll make you as comfortable as possible.' He straightened up, moving closer to Mirabel and lowering his voice. ‘I've sent for my doctor. He's looked after Betsy since the accident that almost took her from us. You must stay as long as it takes to get Hubert back on his feet.'

Mirabel was about to thank him when Hubert began to make inarticulate noises, waving his good arm in a frantic attempt to attract her attention. She moved to his side. ‘What's the matter? Are you in pain?'

He pointed to Gertie who was perched on the driver's seat next to Caleb with the ghost lilies clutched in her arms. ‘Can somebody take these blooming plants?' She leaned forward, holding out the bundle. Mirabel stepped forward to relieve Gertie of her burden, but the delicate blossoms were brown and shrivelled and it was obvious that they were dying. She hesitated before handing them to her husband. If he saw the parlous state of his beloved orchids it might make his condition worse, but he was holding out his hand, fixing her with a pitiful gaze and she had not the heart to deny him. Placing the orchids on his lap she held her breath, waiting for his reaction, and to her relief Hubert's paralysed muscles twisted into the parody of a smile.

‘He sees them as they were,' Vincent said softly.

‘The bloody things are dead as a door post. Best throw them out, missis.' Bodger made as if to take the bundle from Hubert, but he hugged them to his chest, mumbling words Mirabel could not catch, although his meaning was clear.

‘No,' she said firmly. ‘Let him keep them. They might have set seed and we'll be able to grow them on when we get home.' She spoke with more conviction than she was feeling.

Vincent beckoned to Amos, who was hovering in the background. ‘Help Mr Kettle's man carry the chair into the house.'

‘I had the blue room made up for Mr Kettle,' Jerusha said, linking arms with Mirabel. ‘And Zenobia is getting yours ready, Belle. Come inside and take some refreshment, and then I want to hear every last detail of your travels. I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here. I truly thought we'd never see each other again.'

‘I must make Hubert comfortable first,' Mirabel protested, watching anxiously as Bodger and Amos lifted the chair.

‘Steady, man.' Bodger scowled at Amos. ‘This is a person, not a sack of spuds.'

Amos stared at him, a puzzled frown furrowing his brow. ‘Spuds?'

‘Potatoes,' Bodger said impatiently. ‘Don't you speak English?'

Gertie had clambered down from the carriage and she faced up to Bodger. ‘Mind your manners, you big oaf.'

Hubert was comfortably settled on a chaise longue in front of the open windows in his room. Kezia had been assigned to look after him, which she did with quiet expertise and gentle understanding of an invalid's needs. Mirabel was able to relax at last and enjoy a glass of iced tea on the veranda as she listened to Jerusha's excited account of the ball that had been held at the Munroe plantation to celebrate her engagement to Ethan. ‘It's such a pity you missed it, Belle. It was wonderful and we danced the night through.'

Mirabel smiled. ‘I'm so glad for you. Ethan is a fine man and I know you'll be very happy.'

Jerusha gave her a searching look. ‘Something has changed, but I can't say what it is. You have me puzzled.'

‘I'm just tired. It wasn't an easy journey, and now Hubert must be my main concern.'

‘I don't claim to have Mama's gift of second sight, but I am a woman and I know very well there's something you aren't telling me.' Jerusha angled her head, smiling. ‘What really happened in the Florida swamp?'

Mirabel had vowed never to tell a soul, but it was a relief to unburden her emotional turmoil on someone as kind and sympathetic as Jerusha, who sat in silence listening intently until Mirabel faltered to a halt, fumbling for her handkerchief. Jerusha produced one from her pocket and handed it to her. ‘I'm sorry, honey. I feel for you, I really do.'

Mirabel sniffed and blew her nose. ‘I've never told anyone about Jack, not even Gertie.'

‘I guess you did the right thing as far as the world is concerned, but what about you?'

‘Me?' Mirabel stared at her, frowning. ‘There's nothing I can do. I don't know why fate chose to throw us together again. I thought he was dead and then suddenly he was there, very much alive.'

‘It must have been such a shock. I just don't know what I'd do in the circumstances.'

‘It was. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him in that shack on the beach. At first I thought I was imagining things, and then I felt as though I would shout for joy,' she hesitated, biting her lip. ‘And then I was angry to think of the pain he had put me through. Why hadn't he returned to England as any normal man would after losing his ship? Why had he allowed me to suffer so badly? And then I realised that he didn't know how I felt about him, and he probably didn't care.'

‘What did you say to him?'

‘I can't really remember. It's all a blur – I just remember the confusion I felt. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but then he was so cold and distant that I froze.'

‘I guess he must have realised that you were a married woman.'

‘Yes,' Mirabel said slowly. ‘It was obvious what he was thinking when he found out that Hubert was my husband. I wouldn't say this to anyone else, Jerusha, but I would not have married him if I'd known that Jack was alive, even though I had no idea then that Jack had feelings for me.'

Jerusha threw back her head and laughed. ‘No wonder you've gotten yourself in such a tangle, honey. You can't even admit that he loves you and you love him. What's so terrible about that?'

‘I'm married,' Mirabel said dully. ‘You wouldn't betray Ethan, would you?'

‘Ethan isn't an old man.' Jerusha was suddenly serious. ‘I don't mean to be cruel, but I guess it wouldn't have hurt to give Jack some hope. After all . . .' She left the sentence hovering in the air between them.

Mirabel was in no doubt as to her meaning, but she rejected the idea that Hubert might die soon and release her from her vows. She screwed the hanky into a tight ball. ‘I'll give this to Gertie to wash and iron.'

‘Now I've offended you.' Jerusha's bottom lip trembled ominously. ‘I'm sorry, honey. I was just telling it like it is.'

‘I know, and I expect everyone thinks the same as you, but I was happy with Hubert. When we were at home in London everything seemed normal and easy. It was just a huge coincidence that Jack had made his way as far as Florida.'

‘You go on thinking that if it comforts you, but I say it was fate.'

Mirabel rose slowly from her chair. Her limbs were bruised and aching after being thrown about during the storm at sea, but her first concern must always be Hubert. ‘I'd better go and check on my husband,' she said, putting the stress on the last word.

‘Kezia will see that he's looked after. Why don't we go and visit Mama? She'll be pleased to see you; after all, she spoke her first words when you were here last. Maybe you'll be good for each other.'

Betsy D'Angelo was sitting in a chair gazing out of the window into the glossy greenery of a huge magnolia. The waxy white flowers, the size of tea plates, exuded a scent of citrus and jasmine, filling the room with their fragrance. Betsy turned her head as they entered the room and smiled, holding out her hand. ‘You've returned,' she said softly. ‘I knew you would.'

Jerusha gave Mirabel a gentle push towards the window. ‘You remember her, Mama? That's wonderful.'

Mirabel held Betsy's thin hand in a firm grasp. ‘It's good to see you looking so well, Mrs D'Angelo.'

‘You've suffered.' Betsy gave her a penetrating look. ‘All will be well.'

Mirabel shivered even though it was stiflingly hot in the room. ‘I'm sure it will, Mrs D'Angelo.'

‘What are you saying, Mama?' Jerusha knelt at her mother's side. ‘What can you see?' She turned her head to meet Mirabel's anxious glance with a smile. ‘I told you that Mama has the gift of seeing into the future.'

‘Didn't see branch,' Betsy said with a touch of humour.

‘The branch?' Mirabel looked to Jerusha for an explanation.

‘It was how she came off her horse,' Jerusha said in a low voice. ‘She remembers some things and not others, but her speech is improving daily.'

‘Not deaf,' Betsy said drily.

‘No, Mama.' Jerusha gave her a hug. ‘And the doctor says that one day you might be able to walk again.' She kissed her mother's cheek. ‘Rest now. I'll come back later.'

Betsy looked up at Mirabel and her eyes clouded as if a veil had covered her face. ‘Danger,' she said softly. ‘I see danger.'

‘What did she mean?' Mirabel whispered as Jerusha ushered her out of the pleasant room.

‘Don't pay no mind to her, honey,' Jerusha said a little too quickly for Mirabel's liking. ‘She muddles her words from time to time.'