Salting the Wound (26 page)

‘Aw, Captain.’

‘Do it,’ Red said. ‘I’ve never had a mother, lest, not one I can recall, but I reckon yours will be grieving something cruel about you.’

Nick took Red aside while Sam laboured over his letter. ‘Look after him, Red.’

‘Aye, I will . . . like he was my own. You wait and see, Captain.’

But time to wait was something Nick didn’t have as he shook hands with the cook two days later. ‘Thanks, Red. Look me up when you get back to England.’

It was hard parting with his shipmates, since they’d learned to rely on each other. Nick had thought to have Sam’s name etched next to his on his knife hilt, and he gave it to him as a parting gift, along with returning Sam’s compass to him.

He watched them walk out of his sight with a lump in his throat.

After they’d gone, Nick wallowed in a warm bath, ate a decent meal then had his beard trimmed. He bought himself a glass of whisky, the first he’d had in weeks. It tasted strangely bitter and left him light-headed.

A woman wearing green approached and took the seat opposite him. Leaning forward she gave him the glimpse of her décolletage. Her skin was ruddy and wrinkled. ‘Looking for company, mister?’

Nick had been celibate for such a long time that the thought of finding a woman hadn’t entered his head, even though his loins had reminded him they were being neglected on occasion. Now it did enter his head, but he wasn’t going to act on the impulse. He replaced the thought with the image of Aria’s sweetly provocative face and her fresh young body.

There was a moment of alarm. She would regard herself as a widow now. Would she grieve? After all, it had been a hasty marriage, a union made for all the wrong reasons. But she had no proof of the marriage. His uncle wouldn’t hand over the considerable legacy his father had left him without proof – though that wouldn’t be hard to get. Another thought crossed his mind. Lucian Beresford would forgive her marriage transgression to get his hands on that amount of money once he learned she was not just any old widow – but a widow with a well-padded purse.

But Nick had asked Aria not to tell anyone about their marriage until he got back. And he knew she wouldn’t break that promise, unless she’d needed to. Aria wouldn’t give up hope on him. She’d wait for him forever, he was sure of that.

He pressed his palm against the locket, now safely pinned inside his new waistcoat, and his palm beat steadily against it. The thought of her was so warm and poignant that he couldn’t wait to get home and see her.

The woman opposite him had a practised smile, but underneath he could see her weariness. He pushed a couple of coins across the table. ‘Not tonight, love. Go and buy yourself a meal.’

Finishing his ale he went to his room. The mattress was too soft after his bed of bark. There were no stars above him on the yellowing ceiling, and the room smelled of tobacco rather than fresh air. Closing his eyes he imagined a dark velvety sky full of stars and Aria with her head heavy against his shoulder, and breathing gently into her ear. He smiled, wondering what she was doing at that particular moment. Watching the bracken unfurl its green fronds on the heath perhaps . . . or suffering through Sunday high tea with the redoubtable Misses Stanhope . . .

Nick had no way of knowing how right he was – or how wrong!

‘The youngest Honeyman girl married his nephew, and without them telling anyone. Erasmus Thornton himself announced it from the pulpit,’ the elder Miss Stanhope said, her eyes glittering with excitement.

‘I’m surprised the reverend let him into the pulpit.’

‘Oh, Erasmus has been friends with the reverend for years. You could tell the sermon was planned in advance, with all that lecturing about rumour and innuendo being a sin. And Daisy Thornton was there, as bold as brass, though she never usually goes to church. There’s no smoke without fire, is there, now? There’s something going on there with Reverend Phipps, you mark my word.’

One of the teatime guests cried out, ‘I’ve never seen the like of it. Charlotte Hardy tackled Captain Thornton after church, demanding to see the certificate. He told her, I saw the marriage register with my own eyes, and if that was good enough for me, it should be good enough for you. I’m not about to satisfy your curiosity, woman.’

Another took up the tale. ‘Near scratched his eyes out she did. She called the captain a liar and worse.’

‘Then he told her to sail off to Boston and see for herself . . .’

‘So she said she wouldn’t step aboard one of his stinking ships. He told her he wouldn’t allow her aboard if they were in the middle of the Atlantic and she was drowning, since she was so puffed up with her own pride that she wouldn’t sink anyway. What a to-do.’ The guest fanned herself.

The beady eyes of Agnes Stanhope’s sister glistened, and she lowered her voice to a death knell. ‘Mrs Hardy called Thornton a murderer, accused him of causing her mother’s death. Only she said it under her breath. Captain Thornton heard her though, and so did some other people.’

‘Oh, that’s nothing new. Nearly everyone knows Erasmus Thornton and Caroline Honeyman were once lovers. His face was flushed with anger, and I thought he was going to strike her. Then her husband arrived with their gig. When the Colonel realized what was going on he went over to her, took her elbow in his hand and marched her off.’

Lucy Stanhope gave a bit of a neigh. ‘Charlotte was probably jealous. Everyone knows that she intended to marry Nicholas Thornton and he expected to marry her. She turned him down in a fit of pique after an argument, and she married the next man who came along, just to spite him.’

‘Marry in haste, repent at leisure, they say.’

‘He deserved better. A nicer man you couldn’t wish to meet is Colonel Hardy. There was always scandal about the Honeyman family. As for the younger daughter, it’s like mother, like daughter. God help the child when it’s born. I wonder if they’ll give it away and put it about that it died at birth, like the last time.’

The younger women tittered. ‘Now, now, Agnes. We don’t know for sure that the first one was sent to the orphanage.’

‘You might not,’ Agnes retorted, ‘but I happened to be doing my day of charity work there at the time. Helping those less fortunate than oneself is so satisfying. I do know that a newly born infant was brought in, and I saw who brought it. Constance Jarvis gave the girl special attention and her own family name. Serafina Jarvis she called her.’

Eyes agog, Lucy stared at her. ‘What happened to the child?’

‘I don’t know. She was gone the following week. Mrs Jarvis said she’d been sent out to a wet nurse, but I couldn’t see any record of it. Later, when I enquired, Constance Jarvis told me the girl had died. But somebody else told me they’d heard she was bringing the girl up herself.’

‘Goodness, all this intrigue. Why didn’t you tell me before now?’

‘You were a child at the time and it slipped my mind. Besides, one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Oh, my goodness. I won’t forget today’s church service in a hurry. I hope it doesn’t reach the ears of the bishop.’

‘No, indeed. Do you think Marianne Honeyman is really married to Nicholas Thornton?’

‘She calls herself Mrs Thornton and she wears a wedding ring.’ Agnes gave a thin, malicious smile and folded her arms on her chest. ‘Some man put that child inside her, and at about the time she went missing, and she’s strutting about like the strumpet she is. They said she’d been visiting friends at the time. Then they said she’d been taken ill and was confined to bed. But before that there were rumours that Captain Nicholas Thornton had taken her to America with him.’

‘Besides, it’s hardly likely that her sister would throw her out if things were above board. I’ll give Charlotte Hardy her due. She might not take any nonsense, but she’s a decent woman for all that. As good Christians, we should call on her and offer her our support in her time of trouble, Lucy.’

‘Quite. After all, her sister’s infant must be due any day now . . .

I
t was Edgar Wvyern who posted bail to free Seth from his filthy prison cell.

Seth told him exactly what he thought of Charles Barrie. ‘He’s self-absorbed, full of deceit, and a liar. I’m outraged by his behaviour. As for Adam Chapman—’

‘A clever young man, but blameless in this affair. I’ve sent word to him and said we will call on him later in the day. We’ll meet with him later and discuss what can be done about the situation. I’ve made it clear to Sir Charles what I think of him, Captain Hardy. I’ve come to apologize for his behaviour, and for my part in the situation, though I acted in good faith. I have informed him, and will now inform you. I’m prepared to offer my services to you free of charge should you wish to take the matter to court.’

‘Will taking it to court make any difference now Sir Charles has been granted custody of John?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. All it will achieve is to expose his complicity and his questionable ethics in the matter. If your motive was revenge, it would be a perfect vehicle with which to embarrass him in front of his peers. However, I’ve persuaded him to drop the child-stealing charge. I do know he would not welcome the publicity the case would generate, or the stain it would leave on his character. For that reason I think the matter can be reconciled by reason and negotiation. Nevertheless, he’s kin to the boy, and he has been afforded custody. You must reconcile yourself to that.’

‘So, it seems that all I would stand to gain would be the satisfaction of a temporary revenge for something that would soon be forgotten. If I wanted to get John back I imagine I’d have to take a leaf from Sir Charles’s book. I should abduct the boy and remove him to Van Diemen’s Land, where I do have custody.’

Wyvern’s eyes came up to his. ‘That would be one way, I suppose. Not the step I’d expect, and advise you to take.’ He shrugged. ‘But then, I’ve been disillusioned quite often by my own judgement of late.’

Seth chuckled. ‘You and me both. Rest easy. I’m not about to take such a drastic action, mainly because I’m sure that John will be well cared for with Sir Charles, despite being taken from a family he loves.’

‘Good. I didn’t think you were that much of a fool.’

‘He must think I’ve abandoned him. Can I, at least be allowed to see John before I go home? I don’t want him to think I’ve deserted him.’

‘Sir Charles will not allow it at the moment. He wants time to get to know the boy and to gain his trust. Perhaps later. Be patient, Colonel.’

‘Trust is something he’ll have to earn with John now. The boy’s no fool and he saw me dragged into the police cart outside the house. He’ll be scared on my behalf, and mistrustful of his grandfather, because he knows he was responsible.’

‘If I see John I’ll tell him you’re all right. Write him a note if you will. I’ll make sure he gets it.’

They met with Adam at his office, a rather grim-looking place with damp patches clinging to the walls. He shrugged an apology. ‘It’s all I can afford, I’m afraid, but at least it’s central.’

Edgar smiled. ‘We’ll find you better premises when you decide to accept my offer. In London success is often measured by a man’s accommodations, I’m afraid.’

‘Some readjustment of the contract terms will have to take place. First and foremost I’m my own man, and will take cases, or not, according to my own conscience and discretion, though at the moment I’m seriously doubting my own ability.’ Adam held out a hand. ‘I’m so sorry about what has happened, Seth. I was hoping we could build on our tenuous relationship and remain friends.’

‘We can. I don’t regard this issue to be your fault, any more than it was mine. You’re welcome in my home any time . . . both of you are.’

It was with a heavy heart that Seth returned to Poole. Charlotte’s face reflected her worry. ‘Where’s John?’

He told her. ‘Sir Charles tricked us all. He obtained a court order for custody and refused to hand John back. He had me arrested for child-stealing, but later had a change of heart.’

Her hand flew to her mouth and she breathed, ‘Oh, Seth . . . how could he do such a terrible thing. You’re the most honest person I know.’

She came to him then, slid her arms about him and laid her head against his shoulder, the first time she’d offered him any comfort. He savoured it when she said, ‘I’m so sorry, Seth. I know how much your promise to John’s mother meant to you. What will we do now?’

He hadn’t given his promise to Mary much thought over the last few days, and felt a twinge of guilt. He tipped Charlotte’s chin up and kissed her mouth, relishing this softer side of her nature. ‘We’ll have to put up with it. The most we can hope for is to be able to see John now and again.’

She grew angry, her gestures animated, her eyes sparkled with indignation and her cheeks glowed apple red. ‘He had family here, a brother and sister, and parents who loved him. What can an old man offer John? He’ll be lonely without us. I’ll never forgive him.’

Another man on her hate list? ‘Hush, Charlotte. His grandfather will give him the best money can buy, and I know John won’t forget us.’

John certainly didn’t forget what he’d seen. He didn’t like his new life and reacted accordingly by setting out to make his grandfather’s life as uncomfortable as possible. ‘When is my pa coming for me?’ he said to him one day.

‘Your father is dead, John.’

‘That was my first father, Jonathan Barrie. I can’t remember him. I mean Colonel Seth Hardy. He is my father now.’

His grandfather didn’t answer. Instead, he said, ‘Try not to whistle in the house, please, especially so early in the morning. It’s annoying.’

His grandfather became irritated very quickly. John thought that if he made him really angry, the man might send him home to his parents.

‘I want you to write to my pa and my mama, and tell them to come and fetch me,’ he said on another day. ‘And I want to go to my proper school.’

‘You have a tutor.’

‘But I miss my friends. And I miss my sister and brother.’

‘Stop this complaining at once, John. Those children are not your brother and sister. You’re not even related to the Hardy family. The only blood relative you have is me.’