Salting the Wound (13 page)

As Hardy lifted John into the gig, he said. ‘Can I stand between your knees and take a turn on the reins, Pa?’

‘When we get out of town, perhaps.’

‘Did you find Aunt Marianne?’

Seth’s smile was replaced by a worried look, and the boy’s smile faded when he said, ‘Not yet, but we will.’ He nodded at Adam, flicked the reins and they moved off.

Adam watched them go with sadness in his eyes. There seemed to be nothing inappropriate in the relationship between the pair. It was obvious that the boy had a good home. The soldier also had a new family to support. For the first time in his life Adam felt guilty about what he was about to do. But child stealing was a misdemeanour, not a felony, so he’d probably get away with it if he had a good excuse, and he expected that he would have.

But it was not his job to judge Colonel Hardy. In fact, he rarely offered an opinion to his clients unless they asked for one. His task had been to find the child. He had, and would be paid well for both his time and expertise. While their faces were still fresh in his mind he quickly sketched both man and child, then turned and walked away.

The boy’s question stuck in his mind, and the way both their smiles had faded.

‘Marianne,’ he whispered, and connected it to the fisherman mentioning that there were two sisters. Marianne Honeyman must be the younger one.

He was tempted to catch the man up and tell him what the fisherman had said, but it was really none of his business. No doubt they would know soon enough when the ship returned.

But what if she was kept on board against her will and disposed of?

Later, Adam wrote a note and signed it with a name he used sometimes. Just before he headed for the railway station, he placed it in the hands of a messenger to deliver to Harbour House.

Dear Colonel Hardy,

We are not acquainted, but yesterday I overheard that a young lady called Marianne Honeyman is missing from her hearth and home. A fisherman, in the course of a conversation, mentioned quite incidentally that he saw her go aboard a ship called
Samarand
on the day the young lady disappeared. I cannot, of course, verify that the information is correct, but for what it’s worth, you may wish to question the man yourself, and indeed, follow this line of enquiry up. The fisherman’s name was Rob.

Sincerely,

Henry Smith

‘
Samarand
,’ Charlotte cried out, and Major Mitchell jumped and gave a startled yelp. Gently massaging his scalp with her fingertips she shushed him, then lowered her voice. ‘There, I knew Nick Thornton had stolen her away. I’ll shoot him dead when he gets back. Just see if I don’t.’ She began to weep. ‘My poor sister. Nick has ruined her to spite me, and it’s all my fault. If I’d only married him in the first place, then this wouldn’t have happened. We must ask a magistrate to issue a warrant for his arrest, and we’ll have him thrown into jail when he returns.’

‘Charlotte, this isn’t about you, or about you taking revenge. For Marianne’s sake it would be better if this business is hushed up. As for Thornton, there’s no proof that he was involved in her disappearance in any way.’

Eyes furious she gazed up at him, prepared to argue. ‘But the letter—’

‘It was written by a stranger, and could be a mischief. Until we know for sure what has happened to Marianne we cannot accuse anyone of anything. What if Nick Thornton is innocent of wrongdoing?’

Charlotte wanted Nick to be the villain, it would give her a reason to keep hating him. ‘Why are you always so reasonable, Seth?’

He laughed and ran a finger down her nose. ‘I’ve learned to keep control of myself, and so should you.’ He picked up her hand and bore it to his lips. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll go and see this fisherman in the morning. If it were Marianne he saw going aboard, he should be able to remember what she was wearing.’

‘It was her blue gown and bonnet and her Kashmir shawl.’

Jessica began to make agitated little noises. Seth picked her up and gently rocked her, saying softly, ‘Hello, my sweet.’ Jessica’s eyes moved towards the sound of his voice and she fell quiet. ‘You have a pretty face, just like your mother, but you don’t sing as well.’

Seth loved his children. Charlotte could see it in his eyes when he gazed at them. She’d already known he’d be a good father when she’d married him. He was not like Nick, quick-tempered and tempestuous. Seth was a calm man – a reasonable man.

Worry had caused Charlotte’s first thin trickle of milk to dry up at first. She’d felt a failure when Lucian had advised her that the wet nurse should feed both of her children. But still she persevered, and had been rewarded by painful lumps.

Fanny Clark had said. ‘I mean no disrespect, Mrs Hardy. It’s just that you’re new at this, and so is the doctor. If you place cabbage leaves on your breasts it will help to draw the milk out.’

Charlotte had scoffed at first, but had allowed Fanny to bring her some cabbage. The cool green leaves were wondrously soothing, if nothing else. Charlotte liked Fanny, who’d been recommended by Lucian. She had two children of her own. Recently, her own baby had died a few days after birth, just as she’d finished suckling the first. Her husband had left to seek work elsewhere, and she lived with her parents.

Charlotte felt sorry for her. If anything happened to her own children she knew she’d never recover. When she relinquished Major Mitchell to Fanny she felt envious. But the fact remained. The children slept well when Fanny fed them. When Charlotte tried to feed them they were fractious.

Seth handed their daughter over to her, and kissed her forehead when Jessica nuzzled into her, seeking sustenance. ‘Try not to feel too bad about it, Charlotte. It can’t be helped. I’ll be back later. I’m going to give the clay workers their wages and I’ll take John with me.’

After Seth had gone Charlotte opened her bodice and prayed for milk. Jessica nuzzled hungrily, her face going back and forth until her mouth closed round the nipple. Charlotte drew in a breath as her daughter began to suck. The sensation was so pleasurable that it was almost painful, and it seemed to reach right down into her body. She closed her eyes and savoured the connection with her daughter. She desperately wanted to nourish her own children. After a while Jessica stopped sucking.

Opening her eyes Charlotte gazed down at her, almost in despair. Then she noticed that Jessica wasn’t complaining, and that her bodice was damp on the other side. With a flicker of excitement she slid her hand under it. Milk was dripping from her breast.

The surge of triumph she felt was so real that it must have transferred to Jessica, for her daughter detached, her head turned and she looked up at her. Jessica belched, and a bubble of milk was expelled from her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

She exchanged a triumphant smile with Fanny. ‘It worked.’

‘Of course it did. What do doctors know? Put her to the other side now for a short time, then you can try Major Mitchell on it.’

Momentarily, Charlotte forgot her worry over Marianne as she practised her new skill.

A
fter Seth dropped John off at school, he did as the note had advised him to and questioned the fisherman called Rob about Marianne.

‘As I told the other fellow . . .’

‘What other fellow?’

‘I can’t remember his name.’

‘Henry Smith?’ Seth suggested.

The fisherman scratched his head. ‘No, that weren’t his name. Can’t rightly remember him giving one. I think he was looking around the area. Borrowed my dinghy and rowed across to look at Harbour House, he did, though I told him he wouldn’t be able to buy it. He asked about schools.’

Seth’s eyes sharpened at that. ‘What did this man look like?’

‘A young feller, he was, younger than you. But young or not, he had a look to him that said he was no fool. He was about your height, and well set up with grey eyes.’

The stranger at the school! Seth thought. The young man hadn’t offered him a name either, but how had he known his army rank? Seth hadn’t given it. He put the man to the back of his mind. No good puzzling over it now. He’d just wait and see if anything developed.

He concentrated on Marianne. ‘I’m given to understand that you saw a young woman board the
Samarand
two weeks ago.’

‘Were it that long ago? Dressed all in blue, she were, a basket over her arm, her ribbons flying in the wind and wearing a smile on her face like she was enjoying the day. As I told the other feller, she was as nesh as a spring day. But he didn’t seem all that interested in her, even when I told him she lived out at Harbour House.’

Seth smiled. That sounded like Marianne, all right, but she was stronger than her appearance implied. ‘Did you see the girl again?’

‘I didn’t see her step ashore, if that’s what you’re after knowing. The
Samarand
set sail not long after. Her master went striding on board about fifteen minutes after the girl. Wake up you lazy buggers, all hands on deck, he roared, and within minutes the crew were swarming over the ship like fleas on a dog’s back.’ He chuckled. ‘He soon had that lot jumping, I can tell you. Off she went with the tide, and she ain’t due back yet.’

‘Where was she headed?’

America I reckon. She didn’t load enough provisions for a longer voyage. She should be back in about five or six weeks. The Thornton ships takes turn and turn about, you see. Two American to one Australian run. It happens that
Daisy Jane
– that’s old man Thornton’s ship, is due back about the same time.’

That information seemed fairly conclusive to Seth, and he’d learned more than he’d bargained for. Firstly, that the man who’d dropped his pencils had been snooping for information about himself. Second, that he’d probably sent the note regarding Marianne’s whereabouts. He doubted that the man was called Henry Smith though.

‘Many thanks. He dropped a shilling into the man’s hand then turned and strode towards the rig. He was not looking forward to telling Charlotte that her suspicions were probably correct, and that Marianne was most likely on board the
Samarand
.

From what the fisherman had said, Seth was willing to wager that Nick Thornton hadn’t known she was on board. The girl must have hidden herself away. Why, for the adventure of it? And why hadn’t she taken any personal belongings with her? Had she gone on board intending to visit someone, and met with an accident of some sort?

He hummed to himself as he headed back to Heath House, enjoying the morning sun on his back, trying to convince himself it was the most likely explanation. Despite the bad blood existing between Nick Thornton and Charlotte, Nick was enough of a gentleman to make sure Marianne would be looked after, Seth was sure.

That thought was followed by a more worrying thought. Then why hadn’t Nick turned back to port with her? He must have known that Charlotte would have worried about her sister.

He supplied his own answer by saying out loud. ‘Perhaps it’s
because
Charlotte would have worried about her.’

Charles Barrie was thorough in his questioning of Adam Chapman. ‘Are you certain it was my grandson with the Colonel?’

‘As I stated in my report, Sir Charles, I can only be sure there was a boy of your grandson’s age with a man known as Seth Hardy. I saw them for but a moment and we shook hands. The boy was introduced as his son, John Hardy.’

‘But you formed an impression there was a family likeness.’

‘I did form that impression.’ Adam handed him the sketches. I drew these likenesses. That one is Harbour House, where they live.’

But Charles Barrie’s eyes were scrutinizing the sketch of the boy. ‘Hmm . . . unless I’m imagining it there is something of Jonathan about the lad.’ Charles frowned. ‘Did they suspect you were investigating them? I asked you not to approach them.’

‘Not at all, Sir Charles. The meeting was entirely accidental, which was fortunate because I would have never got near the house unobserved. I’m given to understand that Mrs Hardy has recently given birth to twins.’

Caustically the old man said, ‘Then she won’t miss my grandson when he’s removed from her care. In fact, she could lose her own children for a while if she knowingly helped her husband to keep the boy.’

Adam considered it harsh to punish the woman and her children, and he found it hard to keep the displeasure from his voice when he told him, ‘You didn’t strike me as the type of man who’d punish two newborn infants when they rely on their mother for their sustenance.’

Shame chased across Sir Charles’s face and he blustered, ‘Of course, I would have taken that into account.’ He quickly tried to change the subject. ‘How did the boy look?’

‘Happy, and well cared for. He seems to have a good relationship with his . . . with his stepfather.’

‘His abductor, you mean.’

‘No, sir, I do not mean that. Seth Hardy’s story has yet to be heard. He could be completely innocent of doing any wrong. I make it my business not to judge people.’

‘And I do judge them, since that’s my profession. I’m an expert at it.’

‘Forgive me for being outspoken, but there’s a difference between making a considered judgment, and judging with prejudice, especially when dealing with somebody you’ve never met. I understand that you’re a man who wants to do the best for his grandson, but you’re personally involved. That’s bound to have a bearing on your thinking, and you are jumping to conclusions.’

‘And if it were you in my shoes?’

‘Right at this moment I’d be thankful that the child was alive and had been well cared for, especially since you didn’t know of his existence until a few months ago.’

‘Would you, by God,’ Charles spluttered, then he laughed. ‘For such a young man you’re remarkably frank. Thank you, Mr Chapman. I will not need your services any longer so you can present your account. If the boy turns out to be my grandson I’ll let you know.’

‘I’d appreciate that.’ He reached the door and remembered the reward money. He turned back and placed the package on the desk. At an inquiring quirk of Sir Charles’s eyebrow, Adam said, ‘It’s what remains of the reward money. I didn’t need it all.’