Where Seagulls Soar (2 page)

Kneeling across his lap she gently lowered herself on to him, covering him in red taffeta. Her thighs trapped his hips, her hands were planted either side of his head and her glorious dark hair
tumbled in a fragrant curtain about their heads. Bare buttocks cushioned themselves on his thighs, her leather boots grazed against his knees.

Joanna’s sleepy blue eyes were an inch from his, her mouth a curve of desire. ‘I adore you, Alex Morcant.’

He liked her uninhibited ways and found himself sinking into the mesmerizing depth of those eyes – losing himself in her, in the intimate togetherness of them.

Reaching up he took her face between his palms and, bringing her mouth down to his, he drowned in the sea of her sensuality as she gently tightened her muscles around him.

As they neared England the weather worsened and they sailed into a series of squalls.

To Alex, the ship became a highly unstable creature. Her stern rose and fell like a whore’s backside. Her prow cut into the water and scooped it up. It rolled along her deck at knee height
to pour over the legs of the unsuspecting, then it cascaded out of the scuppers. Spray was thrown sky high, to run off the snapping sails in every direction, usually the one he was standing in. To
make matters worse, the horizon canted this way and that, so his perspective was constantly shifting.

Her master, thinking nothing of this ungainly behaviour from his elegant ship, calmly smoked his smelly tobacco and threw incomprehensible orders to the crew, who swarmed over the rigging,
seemingly with complete disregard for their safety.

Sails were run down lines, others just as quickly run up, so there was a constant kaleidoscope of movement.

Although Alex had determined not to succumb to seasickness again, the
Joanna Rose
had other ideas. Much to his chagrin, he was overtaken by the misery of it. Even though he wasn’t
actually sick, he was constantly queasy and was forced to remain in his cabin. As he hugged his stomach, Alex swore he’d never go to sea again unless desperation drove him to it, whatever
he’d promised Joanna.

Thankfully, Toby had inherited Joanna’s stomach, for he was affected not at all. He bawled loudly and forcefully when he was hungry or uncomfortable, but otherwise was sunny natured.

At least he had Joanna to care for him now, Alex told himself, and he wouldn’t have to live in that big house, alone with his own thoughts. But he envied the fact that his wife seemed to
thrive on, even enjoy, the uneven motion of the ocean, as if she were a piece of seaweed floating on the currents.

She looked after him, washing the sweat from his pallid face, or coaxing him to eat a little. She tempted him with morsels of food, soft words and sympathy in her eyes. When they made love she
was passionate and innovative, and he couldn’t get enough of her.

But when Joanna came to the cabin one day, her eyes sparkling and raindrops glistening in her hair, to bring the news, ‘England is on the horizon, come and see,’ Alex instantly began
to feel better.

‘Thank God,’ he croaked. ‘I hate living on this damned ship, even though I now own the company. I worked hard enough to get it, though, and thanks to you it’s now mine.
And I’ve got myself a wife into the bargain.’ The pride and arrogance in his words suddenly vanished as he said pathetically, ‘I’ll be so pleased to have solid ground under
my feet again.’

She giggled and held his head against her breasts. ‘My poor darling man, I know you will. But you’ll change your mind about the ship when we go ashore, and you’ll look on the
voyage as an adventure.’

‘I shouldn’t be at all surprised.’ He felt quite comfortable being held like this and wondered if his own mother had put him to her breast to feed, as Joanna did with Toby.

A shudder ran through him at the thought. But no, Clara Nash hadn’t been a motherly type. He’d spent most of his childhood with Tobias Darsham and his mother, unless his late father
had been home from sea. Despite their mother and son relationship, Alex had never felt close to Clara, and neither did he hold any respect for her. Surprise filled him, for he realized that he
didn’t even like his mother.

He turned his head to kiss the pert little bud that had suddenly ripened against his ear.

Joanna laughed and combed her fingers through his hair, relaxing his scalp. ‘You’re beginning to feel better, aren’t you?’

‘By the second.’ His mouth moved a little further up. ‘How do you feel?’

In the cradle next to the bunk, Toby woke. His legs rose in the air, taking the blanket with them. They quivered in a stretch for a moment, then the blanket fell off and covered his face.

‘In demand,’ she said, grinning as Toby’s head turned from one side to the other, as if wondering where the light had gone. He began to punch at the air and voice his annoyance
at the event.

Alex gave a rueful smile and rolled off the bunk.

Toby’s indignant squawk became a chuckle when his father uncovered him. Smothered in Alex’s kisses and convulsed in paroxysms of giggles, the beautiful and robust little boy who so
resembled Alex was brought to the bunk and placed in Joanna’s arms. Alex was going to be a good father to him.

She frowned when Alex paled and an expression of pain appeared on his his face.

‘Do you feel unwell again?’

‘It’s nothing much. It comes now and again. I’ll be all right once I get ashore.’

And that was only a day away.

Up on deck with the rest of the passengers, who were beginning to disembark, Alex glanced towards the building where the company’s offices were situated.

Joanna grinned. ‘I suppose you’re going straight there.’

‘I’ll see you and Toby home first.’

They said farewell to Thaddeus, who had completed his last voyage and was about to retire from the company.

‘Who’s taking my place as master?’ he said gruffly.

‘Edward Staines. He’ll be the senior master.’

‘She should have gone to your brother. One thing’s for sure, though, we’d never make a seaman out of you however hard you try.’

Alex grinned and the pair shook hands. ‘I know. As for Oliver, it’s not my fault he went haring off to America after a woman’s skirt. Come to the office in the morning.
I’ll hand over your severance pay and bonuses.’ Alex also intended to present the company’s senior captain with a gold watch. He just hoped that his manager, Henry Wetherall, had
remembered to order it, for Thaddeus would be off down to Poole as soon as he could, to visit Charlotte Darsham, the woman he intended to wed.

Joanna hugged the captain. ‘You’ll let me know when the wedding is, won’t you, Thaddeus?’

‘Maybe, but maybe not. The pair of us are too old for fuss, so don’t be surprised if your grandmother has become Mrs Scott the next time you see her, for I expect she’ll have
things all arranged.’

‘You know, I’ll never forgive the pair of you if you marry without me there.’

‘I reckon you will, lass,’ he said calmly, ‘for you’re not a fussing woman yourself. Now, stop hugging me and go off home with your husband. He’s tapping his foot,
which means he’s impatient to get started. I’ll send your luggage up on a cart.’

After six months’ absence, Joanna and Alex’s house at Southwark had a neglected look to it. The garden was overgrown, though threaded through with May flowers. The
windows were dusty, but the blackthorn was in bloom and the heavenly scent of the massed cream blossoms was heady to the senses.

Their housekeeper came scurrying through from the back when they entered the dusty hall.

‘Where are the servants, Mrs Bates?’ Alex asked her, frowning as he glanced around.

‘Your mother . . . Mrs Nash dismissed them. She said they weren’t needed.’

‘Did she now.’ Alex’s mouth tightened. ‘And your husband. Where’s he?’

‘Bates up and died a month or so ago. He caught the cholera, he did, and it took him off real quick.’ A tear or two tracked down her cheeks. ‘I’m glad you’re home,
sir, and you, Mrs Darsham.’

Toby was looking around his new surroundings with interest. Mrs Bates eyed him uncertainly, then gazed from one to the other, as if not quite knowing what to say.

‘I’m Mrs Morcant now,’ Joanna told her gently. ‘And this is our son, Tobias Alexander, though we call him Toby. I’m so sorry to hear about your husband.’

Mrs Bates gave a deep sigh as she dried her eyes on the corner of her apron. ‘Bates was older than me, but a good man for all that. I’m going to miss him. It will be nice to have a
child running around the house, though.’

She looked gratified when Toby decided to bestow his best smile on her, revealing the pair of sharp teeth he’d grown in his bottom jaw on the journey. ‘He’s a dear little
lad,’ she said, her mouth stretching into a smile. ‘And so like you, Mr Morcant. Shall I fetch some refreshment to the drawing room?’

Alex shook his head. ‘Not for me, Mrs Bates, thank you. I’m going to the office. We’ll do something about the servant problem tomorrow.’

‘And I must sort out a nursery for Toby. He needs a sleep.’

‘Use the room next to mine . . .
ours
.’ He grinned and kissed her cheek in a slightly perfunctory manner, as if he were impatient to be off. ‘I’ll be going then.
I’ll leave you ladies to sort things out and will see you at dinner, I expect.’

‘Don’t work too hard, Alex. You look tired.’

‘I can’t promise that, my love. I’m sure I’ll be fine in a day or two.’

‘Right,’ Joanna said, turning to Mrs Bates after the door had shut behind him ‘Where does my husband sleep?’

‘In the room next to the one you used to occupy.’ A faraway expression filled her eyes. ‘It’s the room Mr Darsham used to use when he was still alive, poor man. Such a
nice gentleman, he was, even though he wouldn’t take any nonsense from anybody. Still, you’d know that, you being his widow.’

Mr Darsham’s widow, once his wife! It was odd imagining herself as ever being his wife, when Joanna now knew the man was her father. That ill-fated yet innocent liaison seemed a long time
ago now – as did her upbringing on the isle of Portland as another couple’s daughter.

Mr Darsham is still alive, did you but know it, Joanna thought, saddened because her father had been obliged to abandon his home and identity for her sake. Only he lives in Australia and is
calling himself Gabriel Tremayne, these days.

It was lunchtime. The offices of the Darsham and Morcant Shipping Company were almost deserted except for one or two familiar faces – clerks who greeted Alex with
welcoming smiles.

He nodded pleasantly to them as he walked through. It smelled familiar, and he felt at home here, in charge of himself.

Alex hadn’t expected to find his mother waiting for him in his office.

The arrangement of the lines on Clara Nash’s face made her look dissatisfied and unpleasant, a true reflection of her meddlesome nature.

As the door closed, he gazed at her, saying sharply, ‘Why are you here?’

Clara was wearing a powder-blue gown that matched her eyes, a colour too young and fresh for a woman of her mature years. Her skin had a yellowish tone to it.

‘Is that any way to greet me? Come, Alexander, give your mother a kiss.’

His mouth stretched into a thin line. ‘I’d sooner kiss a viper, Mother. I believe you’ve been interfering with my household staff.’

‘Actually, I’ve saved you considerable money in wages. Servants are easy to come by, you can hire others.’

‘It’s my money, not yours. Now, why are you here?’

She turned and walked towards the window. ‘I saw the ship come in, and I wondered if you’d be on it. I heard you went running after that girl?’

‘
That girl
is called Joanna. What of it?’

‘What of it?’ She turned, her eyes blazing. ‘Don’t be a fool, Alexander. The girl is an opportunist. First it was Tobias Darsham, now it’s you. I hope you’ve
left her in Australia.’

‘Why would I do that when I went all that way to bring her home?’ he said. ‘Joanna and I were married on the ship on the way home.’ Swallowing the urge to strangle his
mother, Alex smiled. ‘You might as well know. Joanna has borne me a son. His name is Toby. Now let me see, doesn’t that make you a grandmother?’

‘You fool,’ she scorned. ‘You could have done much better than marry some stupid island girl. She didn’t even have the sense to hang on to what she inherited from Tobias.
Instead, she used it to buy you with.’

He didn’t allow her to see how badly that stung, but crossed to the door and opened it. ‘I’ve got work to do . . . goodbye, Mother.’

She didn’t budge, just stared at him. ‘Aren’t you going to ask after your sisters?’

He’d forgotten the twins in his rush of anger, and sighed. ‘Of course. How are Irene and Lydia?’

‘Tiresome. They’re resisting my efforts to find them husbands. They said you told them they didn’t have to marry the men I chose for them.’

He smiled at the thought that his half-sisters had found the guts to resist his formidable mother. ‘For God’s sake, they don’t have to wed yet. The pair are only sixteen. Allow
them to grow up first.’

‘They need to be found husbands of means.’

His eyes sharpened. ‘Has something happened to the inheritance from their father, then?’

She shrugged. ‘Entertaining in London is costly, especially for three of us.’

And his mother was excessive in every way. ‘I’ll invite them to stay when Joanna and I are settled back in. Have you heard from Oliver recently?’

‘He wrote to you saying his marriage is in trouble. The fool invested his money in some get-rich-quick scheme, and that girl he married, along with her father, has absconded with it,
leaving him to shoulder the blame. I took out a private loan to bail him out of trouble and repay the sum owing. The bank has since dropped the fraud charges against him. You can read about it for
yourself. Oliver’s letter is on the drawing-room table at your house.’

Alex frowned as he stated the obvious. ‘You opened my letter and read it?’

She shrugged. ‘Oliver is my son, why shouldn’t I read it?’

‘Because it was addressed to me.’

‘If I hadn’t read it, he’d be in a prison cell now.’