Where Seagulls Soar (16 page)

‘Why have you supported my mother?’ he’d asked the woman.

‘Because Clara was cheated out of her share of the bank and my nieces are impoverished as a result. Clara’s share was worth five times what they paid her for it. But they discovered
her weakness and exploited it.’

‘Thank you for telling me. I’m glad somebody cares.’

‘You misunderstand me, Captain Morcant. I’ve never cared for the woman. She was a reckless and despicable person of dubious breeding, one who selfishly pandered to her own needs and
desires. But it’s different with Lydia and Irene. I have no children of my own. Indeed, I never married. The family will never support or acknowledge Clara’s girls. They’ve
convinced themselves that the twins have no Nash blood in their veins.’

Oliver hadn’t been surprised at the revelation, for his mother had been shameless. ‘And you?’

‘I have no opinion. But my cousin loved those girls, and I loved my cousin. We were engaged to be married once. Lydia and Irene provided him with much happiness while he was
alive.’

‘You trust me with this, knowing I was once arrested for fraud?’

‘I had you investigated, Captain Morcant. I know about your past. You were exonerated. Have you been informed that your former wife has died?’

He jerked with the shock of hearing it. But this was followed by a sense of relief that he was no longer tied to Susannah. ‘No . . . I haven’t. How?’

‘She tried to escape arrest from a Pinkerton agent by jumping from a locomotive. She fell under the wheels and was cut in half, I believe.’

Ignoring his shudder, Agatha held out a hand. ‘I doubt if we’ll meet again, Captain Morcant. Goodbye.’ A brief shake and she was gone, walking rapidly towards a waiting
carriage, an upright figure dressed in dark grey.

When he was alone, Oliver opened the satchel. It contained a steerage ticket back to England and a large amount of cash.

Oliver had not allowed the satchel out of his sight on the uncomfortable voyage back to England. Almost as soon as he stepped ashore he placed the money in a trust fund. He marvelled that Agatha
Nash had brought herself to trust him with it after his mother’s excesses. Not that he’d proved to be much of a businessman himself, but he wouldn’t steal.

Oliver didn’t intend to allow his sisters to squander the windfall, for there wasn’t enough of it to indulge in the luxury they’d been brought up with. They had their futures
to consider, and he hoped they didn’t have ideas that were too grand.

He stroked his finger over the ring Joanna had placed in his care. Her gesture had humbled him, and the fact that he could return it to her was a cause of pride. He silently blessed Agatha Nash,
too. There were some good women in the world to compensate for poor, dead Susannah and his self-serving mother. He must remember that.

It was a lovely June day. Joanna was just about to bathe Toby when a knock came at the door. The breath caught in her throat in alarm.

Tucking Toby’s naked body in the crook of her elbow she peered cautiously out through a chink in the curtain. Seth Adams was in the process of polishing the toes of his dusty shoes on the
back of his immaculate grey trousers. First one leg, then the other, nearly losing his balance in the process.

As if the soft chuckle she gave attracted his attention, he turned and saw her before she could duck out of sight. Her chuckle became a laugh when he grinned and moved to the window to peer
through it. ‘May I come in?’

He had the cheek of the devil to come back here. She shouldn’t allow him inside, but she needed to know for certain who he was working for, and the urge to know more about him was
irresistible. She pulled back the bolts. He gave a slight frown when she bolted the door after him, and set the package he carried on the dresser. ‘Judging by the precautions, someone’s
been bothering you. Or are you just frightened I’ll escape?’

She smiled at the teasing arrogance of the latter query, ignored the rest. ‘I was about to bathe Toby before putting him down for a nap. I’d better get on with it before the water
cools. Come through to the kitchen, if you like.’

‘I take it that Toby is the source of that peculiar ripe smell.’

‘He got into the hen house when my back was turned.’

Toby offered Seth a beatific smile. ‘Papa.’

‘Unfortunately, no, but I’ll take it as a compliment?’

‘I’d rather you didn’t. He uses the word indiscriminately.’

‘A rather crushing reply. Do I detect disapproval?’

Joanna wouldn’t be drawn as she lowered Toby into the metal tub and lathered his hair. Quickly rinsing off the suds, she rubbed the excess water from his hair and started on his body,
smiling when Toby began to giggle. She dropped a kiss on his damp curls. ‘Stop showing off.’

But Toby would have none of it. He slapped both hands hard on the surface of his bath water so it splashed all over them.

‘I’m so sorry. I should have warned you,’ she said as Seth brushed the water from his coat.

Standing her dripping son up, Joanna kept a good grasp on him with one hand while she tipped a jug of fresh water over him with the other. While he spluttered and gasped, she plucked him from
the bath, wrapped him tightly in a towel and set about drying him.

Glancing at Seth over Toby’s head, Joanna spied laughter in his eyes when he said, ‘You stand no nonsense from the male of the species, I see.’

She gave a light laugh. ‘When they’re dependant on you like this, you wonder why boys grow up to be such strutting, arrogant creatures who imagine women are fools.’

‘I do hope I’m not included in that cruel assessment.’

She slid him a sideways glance and smiled. ‘Am I to take it you think I’m a fool, then?’

‘On the contrary,’ Seth said smoothly. ‘I think you’re a rare combination of beauty and brains. And you blush delightfully when I compliment you.’

‘It’s the steam.’

The grin he tossed her made her blush even more. As much as Joanna tried not to, she rather liked Seth Adams.

He took Toby’s garments up from the chair, handing them over to her as they were needed. Afterwards, he carried the bath into the garden to empty the contents on to the vegetable patch, as
if it were a domestic task he performed every day of his life. Joanna’s cynicism asserted itself, telling her it was an action designed to disarm her.

When he returned, she headed up the stairs with her son. ‘I won’t be long.’

Joanna rocked Toby protectively against her breast, her mouth a kiss away from his sweet head, so her breath stirred the fine strands of his dark hair. Soon, Toby’s eyes began to droop and
he fell asleep, his lashes a dark sweep against his translucent skin. Love for him almost overwhelmed her as she kissed his flushed cheek and laid him gently in his cot. With luck, he would sleep
for a couple of hours while she got on with the washing.

But first she must give her guest some refreshment before she sent him on his way – for send him away she must.

The sound of hammering came to her ears as she drew a curtain across the window. Seth was in the garden, repairing the hole in the hen house that Toby had pushed himself through. The hens were
huddled in a tight bunch at the far end of the run, their necks bobbing up and down as they watched him through nervous eyes and clucked amongst themselves.

Joanna knew how threatened they felt. They assumed the same nervous stance each time she selected one for the pot. But this time her attention was not fixed on the hens, but on the cockerel.

Seth was in a crouching position, the material of his trousers pulled tightly across his buttocks. Tossed by the breeze, his hair seemed spun through with sunshine and the muscles under his
shirt sleeves moved easily with his every exertion. He had removed his jacket, revealing a pearl-grey waistcoat. Her glance followed the sinuous line of him.

Desire pulled at the very core of her. With an effort she tore her eyes away from the temptation. But it was harder to control her thoughts, though she told herself it was too soon after Alex.
Then she remembered the woman’s glove she’d found amongst Alex’s clothes, the smell of perfume on him. Racked by a strong sense of betrayal, her next intake of breath was almost a
sob of anguish. She gazed at Seth again. It had been over a year since she’d felt a man’s arms around her. But it couldn’t be this man – this
Judas
.

He turned, his glance coming up to the window, giving a lazy sort of smile. He unfolded to his feet, arching his back into his hands to ease it. His body displayed a tensile strength and grace
with the movement.

Joanna closed her eyes for a moment, giving in to the excitement of the craving to touch him. When she opened them it was to look away and she despised her lack of control as she went down to
the kitchen.

The package he’d brought had been moved to the kitchen table. It smelled delicious as she unwrapped it. She placed a small portion of the dark fruity cake it contained in her mouth. A
decay of autumn fruits was released against her tongue, an aroma of brandy exploded into her brain. It was a cake of great riches, made for lovers to sample.

Only he wasn’t her lover, Joanna thought crossly as she made the tea and cut a couple of slices of the cake. She called Seth in when the hammering ceased. He was still shrugging into his
coat when he entered.

She would allow him the opportunity to explain, she thought.

Automatically folding down his collar for him, she found herself gazing into his astute grey eyes. She took a hasty step backwards, picking up the tray to create a barrier between them.
‘Thank you for bringing the cake.’

‘Kate helped our cook make it. She insisted that I deliver it personally to you.’

‘How is your niece?’

‘Perfectly well, though rather disgruntled at being left behind. She sends her best wishes.’

‘You should have brought her with you. Children are so delightfully honest.’ Joanna handed him the best cup and led the conversation to where she wanted it to go. ‘It was good
of you to come all this way just to deliver a cake.’

The smile he offered was charmingly wry. ‘You know perfectly well I didn’t do that. I came to see you again, Joanna.’

Deep down where it mattered, she was disappointed by the smooth delivery of his answer. Quietly, she told him, ‘I don’t believe you.’

His laughter rang out, slightly nonplussed, but deep and pleasurable, nevertheless. ‘Are you always so blunt?’

‘Not always, Seth, and don’t try to convince me that you are, either.’ She drew his card from her pocket and threw it on the table. ‘What are you trying to find out this
time?’

He sobered as his eyes came up to hers, wary now. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Of course you do, Seth.’ How clever he was, and how revealing the tiny expression of shame growing in those eyes when she placed before him the dreaded name, ‘Lord
Durrington?’

Heart pounding, Joanna stared at him, hoping he’d deny it, for she was acting only on her instinct that the two visits were connected.

He didn’t deny it. After a while he leaned forward to gently kiss her cheek, saying before he rose to his feet, ‘Forgive me for not telling you.’

Forgive him, when her beloved son’s future was at stake? Her mind flooding with fury, she said, ‘I came here with my son to recover from the death of a man who I loved. Now the
future of his child has been threatened by the actions of someone I’d begun to trust.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘Do you really expect me to forgive you?’

‘Allow me to explain—’

‘No! Allow me to explain why my doors were locked. Lord Durrington and his servant Bisley paid me a visit. You knew that, though, didn’t you?’

He inclined his head.

‘They threatened me. Now I spend my days and nights in fear, in case Toby is stolen from me, or harmed in some way. What if it was Kate they were after?’

His face paled. ‘I intended to tell you about this, that’s why I came here.’

She took a step towards him, keeping her voice low so as not to rouse Toby. ‘That’s not what you just indicated, you conniving snake. You thought you could flatter me, so I would
lower my guard.’ Throwing caution to the winds she lashed out at him, whipping her hand across his face. ‘Get out!’

Joanna couldn’t believe she’d hit him, nor the feeling of satisfaction the act had brought to her. Tears came into her eyes as she stared at the crimson patches beginning to burn on
his cheeks. ‘I was beginning to like you, Seth, but you’ve turned out to be hollow. Have you no conscience?’

‘You’re angry now, Joanna.’ When he placed his hand in caress against her face, her instinct was to nestle against his palm. Instead, she jerked away from his touch.

He drew in a deep breath at that, shrugged, then said, ‘I’ll never do anything to harm you or your son, Joanna, I promise. Please believe it. I can’t leave you like this.
I’ll be back when you’ve had time to calm down.’

Picking up his hat, gloves and cane he was gone, closing the door gently behind him and leaving her shaking.

Seth climbed the steep hills of Portland up a winding path along the cliff edge, striding out so his thighs and calf muscles protested when he reached the top.

His face still felt roasted from Joanna’s slap. The shameful indignity of being treated that way by a woman made his cheeks glow even more. But he conceded that he’d deserved the
treatment she’d meted out. He’d underestimated her intelligence to start with. She’d lulled him into a false sense of security before showing her hand today. Nothing but complete
honesty would redeem him in her eyes now.

The inn he chose to purchase his lunch from was filled with smoke and noise, which temporarily faded into astonished silence when he entered. A well-dressed stranger in their midst was a rare
event. Leather-faced quarrymen, most of them were, dressed in shirtsleeves, cloth caps and braces. There was a strong smell of sweat about them, suggestive of the honest toil they engaged in.

Not that Seth could understand much of the talk, for the locals’ voices were gravelly from inhaling years of stone dust, and they constantly cleared their throats with a rattling
sound.