Amber (3 page)

Kitty smiled, and Rian noticed that the little worry lines that had been forming between her brows over the past couple of weeks had disappeared. ‘Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten you, my love,’ she said.

Emily Carlisle walked over to him, and he was struck afresh by the uncanny resemblance between mother and daughter, even though he knew that one was more than twenty years older than the other. He was almost tempted to say to Mrs Carlisle that he understood now where her daughter’s fine looks had come from. But not quite tempted enough. It was true, but it was also trite, and he had no wish to appear shallow and ingratiating in the eyes of his prospective mother-in-law.

‘Please, let me start again, Captain,’ Emily said, offering him her hand. ‘I’m delighted to meet you and I would like to formally welcome you to this family.’

Rian lurched to his feet, crumbs tumbling off his jacket onto the rug, and grasped her hand. ‘Thank you very much indeed, Mrs Carlisle. I’m honoured.’

Emily smiled. ‘And so am I.’

She was stunning when she smiled, Rian thought, just like her daughter. And she seemed noticeably more pleased to see him now than she had earlier.

He had no idea, of course, that Kitty had been busy telling Emily that Rian Farrell was all she’d ever wanted in a man and that she intended to marry him no matter what, that he had saved her life on at least one occasion, that he was kind and decent and loved her deeply, and no, she wasn’t in a delicate condition. Also that he wasn’t your run-of-the mill sort of man and that Emily should never expect them to settle down and live what most people would consider to be a ‘normal’ life. The past eighteen months had made Kitty realise that happiness was something to be grasped whenever it presented itself, because it could vanish just as quickly—Emily of all people should know that—and she intended to grasp hold of a life with Rian Farrell, and all that that entailed, as firmly as she could. And if Emily didn’t like it, well, she was sorry but she and Rian would get back into the gig they had hired and return to King’s Lynn and, when the
Katipo
was ready, simply sail away again.

Emily had known that Kitty meant what she said, and it had taken her only a few seconds to decide that a daughter married to a slightly scruffy sea captain and gallivanting around the world was better than no daughter at all.

‘You must tell me all about yourself, Captain,’ Emily continued. ‘But first I’ll talk to Nellie about some more tea. I’m quite parched—that sun really is rather draining.’

At the mention of more tea, Rian tried not to pull a face.

When Emily had gone, Kitty came over and kissed his nose. ‘Well, that went better than I thought it would.’ She gave him an odd look. ‘What’s the matter? You look as though you’re in pain.’

‘I bloody well am. Is the privy out the back?’

Kitty grinned. ‘Oh, poor darling, I didn’t even think to tell you. Yes, it’s just beyond the vegetable garden.’

When he’d hurried off, walking slightly stiffly, Kitty sat down on the sofa and looked around. The parlour hadn’t changed much since she’d been away. Her mother’s dressmaking business did indeed seem to be prospering, though, because there was a good-quality rug she hadn’t seen before on the floor and a new pair of leather armchairs flanking the fireplace. She was pleased to see, however, that her father’s favourite tatty old chair was still in its usual place near a table lamp, where he had liked to read at night. She wondered if his clothes and books and other personal bits and pieces were still upstairs. Probably, knowing her mother. There was a study lined with bookshelves on the upper floor, and three bedrooms, the largest of which had always been her parents’. She would sleep in her own room for the next few nights, although she wasn’t at all looking forward to it; she and Rian hadn’t spent a night apart since that day in July of the previous year when Haunui and baby Tahi had disembarked from the
Katipo
at Paihia and she had decided to stay on board with Rian. It was Monday today, and she hoped they would be married by the end of the week, but even that seemed too long to wait to sleep next to him again, to feel his warm, hard body against hers and listen to him breathe at night while she lay awake marvelling at how lucky she was.

Nellie appeared with more tea, followed by Emily, then Rian, looking markedly more at ease.

‘Captain Farrell’s just been telling me about his schooner,’
Emily said gaily. ‘He says it’s been logged as one of the fastest for its size. Isn’t that right, Captain?’

‘It is,’ Rian replied. ‘Although Kitty already knows that, of course, having sailed on her for…a while.’ He shut his mouth before he could put his foot into it any further.

‘Yes, quite,’ Emily said as she sat down in a rustle of skirts. Signalling for the tea to be poured, she stared hard at Nellie, who was in turn staring at Rian.

Nellie thought Captain Rian Farrell was one of the most dashing, romantic men she’d ever laid eyes on. It was true that he wasn’t six feet tall and his hair wasn’t dark, but strands of it did flop and his eyes certainly flashed quite a bit, especially when he smiled.

‘Nellie, pour the tea, please, will you?’ Emily prompted briskly.

‘Oh, yes,’ Nellie said, and did just that, all over the tray.

‘Oh dear,’ Emily said, and tutted. ‘Go and get a cloth.’ When Nellie, mortified, had rushed from the parlour, Emily added, ‘She’s not normally
quite
that clumsy. I don’t know what’s come over her.’ She suspected she did, however, and hoped that Captain Farrell’s crew weren’t as mesmerising as Nellie clearly found the captain himself to be. ‘So, Captain, tell me a little about yourself. You’re Irish, I gather?’

‘I am,’ Rian replied. ‘Dublin born and bred. Well, Kingstown, to be precise. My family have some land there. And, please, call me Rian.’

‘Rian, then,’ Emily agreed. She hesitated, then asked bluntly, ‘How much land? Roughly?’

Kitty rolled her eyes towards the ceiling.

‘Enough to generate an income that will keep Kitty in comfort for the rest of her life should anything ever happen to me,’ Rian answered, ‘if that’s what you mean.’

‘Oh, no, I wasn’t…’ Noting the keen intelligence in his
pale grey eyes, Emily trailed off and decided not to bother with denial. ‘Well, actually, yes, that is what I mean. Forgive me, but I am only thinking of my daughter’s best interests.’

‘Of course,’ Rian said, although he failed to offer any further information about his family. Emily didn’t think it mattered; she would prise it out of Kitty later if necessary.

Nellie returned with a cloth, her round cheeks still flushed. She mopped up the spilt tea, poured three cups, then left again.

‘You’ll be pleased to know, Kitty,’ Emily said, offering the cake plate to Rian, who declined, ‘that Reverend Goodall has assured me he can perform a marriage ceremony at any time, so long as he has a couple of days’ notice.’

‘Did you have the banns published?’ Kitty asked, taking a piece of cake.

‘Yes, I did that in April. You could go and see Reverend Goodall tomorrow to talk about what you’d like. And I’ve managed to find someone to make the refreshments. Nellie’s mother, actually. She’s the cook at the Ormsbys’ house.’

‘Not Bernard and Ida Ormsby?’ Kitty said, appalled.

Emily nodded.

‘Oh, no!’ Kitty exclaimed. ‘You haven’t invited
them
, have you?’

‘Of course not. Not after the things they said about your poor father! No, Mrs Ingram has agreed to come here for the day instead. And at quite a reasonable cost. I don’t know what arrangement she has made with the Ormsbys, and, frankly, I don’t care.’

‘The Ormsbys own one of the local mills,’ Kitty explained to Rian. ‘I don’t think you’d like them. They’re overwhelmingly awful.’

Rian shrugged, quite happy if there were no guests at all at the wedding ceremony. Except for his crew, of course.

‘Who else have you invited?’ Kitty asked.
‘Oh, you know, just a few,’ Emily replied evasively. ‘And I’ve only mentioned it in passing, because I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.’

‘You mean you weren’t sure whether you could talk me out of it or not,’ Kitty said artlessly.

Emily looked at her for a moment, then laughed. ‘Something like that, yes. But we can send invitations out as soon as you’ve spoken with the vicar, if you like. Very short notice, though. I’ve only a handful of people I’d like to attend, but you might have a few.’

‘Not really, no,’ Kitty said. ‘All the people who are really important to me will be here anyway.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Very,’ Kitty confirmed.

Emily turned to Rian. ‘What about your parents, Rian?’

‘No, there isn’t time. And anyway, my parents and I are currently, shall we say, estranged.’

Dying to know why, Emily was nevertheless far too polite to ask.

‘And my sister went out to Australia,’ Rian added, ‘so I’m afraid it will only be my crew. They’re on their way now. I expect they’ll be here by Wednesday, Thursday at the latest. I noticed a tavern as we came through the village. The White Hart? We’ll stay there, I think.’

Kitty set her teacup down in its saucer with a rather sharp clink.

‘Good, that’s settled, then,’ Emily said brightly, trying but failing to keep the relief out of her voice. ‘Now,’ she said, turning back to Kitty, ‘let’s see about this wedding gown, shall we?’

The dress was too tight for Kitty across the bosom, and a little short, so Emily skilfully let out the bodice seams and added a length of ivory lace to the hem. By the time she had finished, it
looked as though it had been made for Kitty.

‘What shoes were you thinking of wearing?’ she asked her on Wednesday morning as she hung the finished gown in the armoire in Kitty’s room.

But Kitty wasn’t listening; she was leaning on the window sill gazing down into the backyard at Rian, who had arrived early for breakfast and was now making himself useful by chopping wood. Emily was very quickly growing to like her soon-to-be son-in-law, and had to admit she was beginning to appreciate what her daughter saw in him. He was obviously intelligent and had a sharp wit that Emily appreciated. In some ways he reminded her of her beloved Lewis. He also had an air about him, and she couldn’t decide whether it was one of quiet but supreme confidence, or an undercurrent of danger. Either way, it was very attractive. And the way he looked at Kitty, especially when he thought he wasn’t being observed, left Emily in no doubt that he both adored her and lusted after her. ‘Kitty?’ she said more loudly. ‘I asked you a question.’

Kitty dragged herself away from the window. ‘Sorry, Mama?’

‘I said: What shoes will you wear?’

‘Well, I have my black boots.’

‘Oh, Kitty, you can’t wear black boots on your wedding day!’

‘I know that,’ Kitty replied impatiently. And on the
Katipo
, she usually wore them with a pair of men’s trousers, but she didn’t think this was the right time to tell her mother
that
. ‘And I have these, but they won’t go with your gown.’ She lifted the hem of her dress to reveal a pair of rather tatty brown button boots.

Emily made a disparaging face. ‘No, those won’t do either.’ Then she added, ‘And it’s
your
gown now, love.’

Kitty gave her mother a little, sad smile. ‘I’m very grateful for that, Mama. It means a lot to me.’

‘It means a lot to me, too,’ Emily said, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. ‘Oh, sweetheart, when I first read your letter I was horrified, I really was. But now that I’ve met Rian and come to know him a little, I think…well, I’m beginning to think that it might be all right.’

‘It will be, Mama. I know it will.’

Emily regarded her daughter’s lovely, calm face and said, ‘Yes, I think you do.’

Kitty started to say something, but was rudely interrupted by a piercing shriek from downstairs.

They stared at each other, eyes wide.

‘My God, that’s Nellie!’ Emily exclaimed, and hurried out of the bedroom, Kitty close behind her, their feet clattering on the wooden stairs.

Nellie was standing in the middle of the kitchen, cut flowers strewn around her on the floor, and her hand clapped over her eyes.

‘Nellie, what on earth’s the matter?’ Emily demanded.

‘Outside, Mrs Carlisle, there’s a giant!’ Nellie babbled hysterically. ‘I’ve never seen the like! Black as the ace of spades, he is!’

Kitty peered through the kitchen window into the garden. Then she grinned, and waved vigorously. ‘The crew,’ she said delightedly, ‘they’re here! Come and meet them!’

Followed by Emily and a hesitant but wildly curious Nellie, Kitty stepped through the back door and out into the bright sunlight. The crew, clustered around Rian, who had his shirtsleeves rolled up and the axe resting over his shoulder, looked every inch the pack of gunrunners and smugglers Kitty knew they were.

Emily, who was becoming near-sighted but was too vain to wear spectacles, didn’t gasp until she was quite close to them.

They stood in a half-circle. On Emily’s left was a ruddy-faced man with a long, black plait, wearing a shirt and trousers
made from some sort of pale, soft fabric. A leather belt with silver embellishments sat on his hips, and there was a sheathed knife tucked into it. He nodded to her and said, ‘Good morning, ma’am.’

‘Mama, this is Running Hawk, a Seneca of the Iroquois,’ Kitty said excitedly. ‘But we just call him Hawk.’

‘Er, good morning, Mr Hawk,’ Emily responded, her manners coming to the fore automatically.

Next to him stood a surly-looking article with red-brown hair, a large scar running down his face, several missing teeth and a glinting gold hoop in each ear, who inclined his head and said curtly, ‘Missus.’

‘John Sharkey, from Newcastle,’ Kitty explained before her mother could respond, then indicated the next man: this one short and wiry with dark, oiled hair, a goatee beard and a moustache with the ends waxed, and a cheerful expression on his weathered face. ‘And this is Pierre.’

The little man bowed extravagantly low and said, ‘
Bonjour, Madame. Je suis Pierre Babineaux, et je suis enchanté pour faire votre connaissance
.’