Eye of the Wind (20 page)

‘You must,’ Aunt Louisa insisted, ‘remember my cousin, James Chenoweth? His mother is my father’s youngest sister.’

Melissa would have denied the acquaintance, but he did not give her the chance.

‘Miss Tregonning,’ he bowed. ‘I fear my aunt expects too much. We met but once, and that was many years ago. I have not been in Cornwall for some time. But I hope you will not be offended if I say that I share your sadness, and deeply regret the loss of your father. A most enterprising man as I remember.’

Melissa curtsied. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Charlotte.’ Aunt Louisa leant over slightly, addressing her elder daughter. ‘If you were to move that way a little … Excellent. There, now there is plenty of room on the rug. Come now, Melissa. Do sit down. We do not wish to keep poor James standing on ceremony.’

Melissa had no choice but to sit in the space her aunt had arranged for her as James lowered himself down beside her with a soft grunt. Turning from him, she smiled at her cousin.

‘You look very well, Charlotte.’ As sleek and smug as a well-fed cat, Charlotte leant forward, her eyes bright as a blade. ‘I am increasing again. Henry is delighted, of course. We hope it will be a girl this time.’

‘That is wonderful news. My felicitations to you both.’

A small frown wrinkled Charlotte’s smooth forehead as she tilted her head, observing Melissa with a critical gaze. ‘I believed my mother to be worrying without cause, but I see now her concern was justified. You are grown so thin! I have to say it does not become you. You being so tall. I can only suppose you have been terribly anxious about Aunt Emma.’

Drawing her legs up beside her, Melissa brushed her fingers lightly over the skirt of her habit. ‘Indeed, I was, for a while. She and my father were very close, and his death came as a great shock. However, Aunt Lucy assures me in her latest letter that my mother is in much better spirits.’

Charlotte seemed unimpressed by this good news, preferring to dwell on matters of concern and anxiety. ‘What of my cousin, George? Have you heard from him yet? Your situation must be really very difficult.’

Melissa had had enough. ‘It is true, Charlotte,’ she confided, ‘I am quite at a loss.’

‘You poor thing!’ Charlotte’s voice dripped sympathy, but the expression on her face did not reach her china-blue eyes. They were avid, hungry for misery. ‘Tell me the worst. You may rely on my total discretion. I shall not breathe a word to a soul.’

‘Oh, I will not swear you to secrecy,’ Melissa said kindly. ‘You see, what has startled – no, I may go so far as to say
overwhelmed
me – is the affectionate regard in which my father was held. Even more touching have been the many small acts of kindness I have received from people who knew him only by reputation. I do not know how I may thank them adequately. Then, with my mother taken ill and my brother not yet returned – though we expect word any time – I was quite fearful as to how I should manage. But by great good fortune our lawyer has been able to deal with everything with a minimum of fuss. So I’m sure you can imagine that with all my terrors coming to naught I feel very foolish.’

Charlotte’s thin lips tightened as she sat back. ‘Well, I am relieved to hear it has all gone so well for you, particularly as I understand there have been some very disquieting rumours.’

Disguising her flinch by moving slightly as if to be more comfortable, Melissa was too wise now to enquire about the content of the rumours and simply shrugged. ‘It is a sad fact that success and popularity such as that enjoyed by my father often breeds jealousy.’

With a sniff strongly reminiscent of her mother’s, Charlotte stretched her mouth into a smile that would have curdled milk. ‘Indeed.’ She turned away and called sharply to a harassed young nursemaid struggling to placate a fat two-year-old lying on his face, roaring loudly as he hammered the grass with feet and fists.

‘Some tea, Miss Tregonning?’

She looked round. James Chenoweth was proffering a cup and saucer. ‘I daresay you would welcome some refreshment.’ His expression was all bland innocence. But though Melissa thought she detected a note of complicit sympathy she was not ready to relax her guard.

‘Thank you, Mr Chenoweth.’ She took the saucer carefully.

‘James, please. Let us not stand on ceremony. We are family, after all.’ He smiled, raising one eyebrow. ‘I understand from my cousin Brinley that you are having the woods bordering the creek chopped down?’

Her start made the cup rattle. Then she saw the glint of humour in his eyes.

‘Not quite all of them. Actually, it is work my father had planned before he – before he was taken ill.’

‘It must surely confirm his reputation as an astute businessman, given the current difficulty of obtaining wood from abroad.’ He smiled again. ‘Such a project must require considerable organisation.’

Though she acknowledged the possibility he might simply be making conversation, the seed of doubt in Melissa’s mind put out a tiny shoot.

‘I imagine it must,’ she agreed. ‘I am sure Tom – that’s Tom Ferris, our foreman – was vastly relieved that with the practical arrangements already in place, all that was required of him was to supply a team of men.’

Though she longed to give Gabriel the credit that was due to him, to mention a stranger’s name was bound to invite questions. Given her aunt’s nature, curiosity would inevitably turn into suspicion. ‘When George gets home I have no doubt he will be both astonished and delighted that the yard and estate have continued to operate with such efficiency.’

‘I do hope, Miss Tregonning …’ He hesitated, and she guessed he expected her to follow his lead and permit him use of her first name, as they were family. But when she did not speak, he continued smoothly, ‘I beg you will not take it amiss if I express my most sincere admiration for the fortitude you are displaying in the wake of the tragic events that have befallen your family.’

His words had the effect of a needle pressed with slow deliberation into tender flesh. Fortitude? She was living on the edge of terror; staggering from one crisis to the next. Her eyes pricked, the view dissolved into a bright blur, and she lifted the cup to quivering lips, sipping and swallowing as she fought for control.

‘But I wonder – and I beg you to believe I make this observation with only your best interests at heart – if you might be allowing hope to blind you to the very real possibility that your brother may not be on his way home. That he might, in fact, not come back at all.’

Icy rage stiffened her spine and tingled to her fingertips. Lowering the cup, she looked directly at him, tone and manner so cold they almost crackled. ‘May I enquire your meaning, sir?’

‘Forgive me,’ he said quickly, his voice low. ‘It was not my intention to cause you anxiety. Though the West Indies is, I am told, a most unhealthy place, I understand your brother to be blessed with a strong physique. No, the point I wished to make is that, as a naval officer in wartime, duty might prevent him leaving his ship.’

Melissa was silent for a moment. It was a fair point. But the way he had made it, deliberately invoking her worst fears, told her that whatever he claimed for his intentions, she would be wise to remain very much on her guard. ‘I allow that this possibility has crossed my mind.’

‘I could not help but overhear what you said to your cousin,’ he confided. ‘I am relieved and delighted to hear of the kindness that has been shown you at this sad time. But a great burden of responsibility has fallen on your shoulders. One you should not be carrying alone.’

Melissa gazed into the distance. ‘Perhaps. But with my mother so much affected by grief and currently in poor health I have little choice at the moment. However –’ she accompanied her brief glance with a polite smile ‘– I am fortunate in being blessed with the loving support of close friends, and family, of course.’

‘That is all well and good, and just as it should be. But surely –’ he edged slightly closer ‘– in such circumstances as yours, the ideal solution would be found in a husband who would remove the weight of responsibility from them and from you.’

Furious with him for his crass impertinence and with her aunt for deliberately contriving this meeting, Melissa struggled hard against a burning desire to slap the smug, knowing, and spuriously sympathetic face. But though he deserved no less, it was she who would be blamed, censured, accused of ill manners and ingratitude.

‘My circumstances, sir, are that I am in mourning for a dearly loved father. Speaking purely for myself, I consider the idea of marrying simply to offload one’s responsibilities on to someone else both selfish and reprehensible.’ She nodded coolly. ‘I will not detain you. As your visits are so rare no doubt you will wish to converse with the rest of the family.’ She deliberately turned away and, after a few moments, heard him clamber to his feet and move off.

‘Melissa! Come and sit by me.’

Glancing round, Melissa saw that the chair next to her aunt was indeed empty, the previous occupant having no doubt been sent on some errand expressly for the purpose of vacating it.

‘So,’ her aunt whispered, leaning toward her, ‘how do you like James? I find him most charming. Such style and address.’

‘I am glad he pleases you, Aunt. I found him tactless and totally lacking in consideration.’

Her aunt’s features sharpened. ‘Indeed, miss? It is clear something has upset you, though I cannot believe James to be the cause. He was most anxious to renew your acquaintance.’

‘He is a stranger, Aunt. I do not remember ever meeting him before.’

Louisa brushed this aside impatiently. ‘Take heed, Melissa,’ she hissed. ‘Opportunities such as this do not present themselves often. With your father gone and your mother away for God knows how long, someone had to do something. I have put myself to some considerable trouble organising this afternoon.’

‘I wish you had not.’

‘Don’t you take that tone with me. You should be on your knees giving thanks that someone in this family cares enough for your future welfare. James would make you an excellent husband.’

‘Aunt Louisa, until George comes home, I cannot –’

‘But will he come home? That he might not is a possibility you must consider. The newspapers are full of reports of fierce battles between the French and British over Guadaloupe and Martinique.’

Distracted for a moment, Melissa frowned. ‘But they are in British hands. Our navy took them last year.’

‘Well, the French want them back and are willing to fight. George’s ship is out there. If anything happens to him, you are your parents’ sole heir. You will be the target of every fortune hunter in the district.’

‘Will I?’ Melissa’s short laugh was edged with bitterness. ‘You mean my numerous disadvantages will matter less than the size of my inheritance?’

‘Don’t be missish,’ her aunt snapped. ‘That’s the way these things work, as you know perfectly well. But none of this need trouble you if you accept James. I’m sure if your dear father were alive, it’s what he would want: to keep it in the family.’

‘That is what I intend doing, Aunt Louisa. Though as my father is dead, you cannot possibly know what his wishes would be. But my brother is alive, and until I receive an official letter to tell me differently, I shall continue making preparations to welcome him home. This is not a suitable time to be thinking of marriage, and I am astonished that you should think it so.’

‘My dear Melissa, you quite mistake my intentions –’

‘I am sure they are good, Aunt. No doubt you wish to see me as happily settled as your own daughters are.’

‘Precisely so. Now –’

‘I must beg you to excuse me, Aunt Louisa.’ She stood up. ‘I suddenly have a headache and must go home.’ Making a brief curtsy, Melissa walked quickly away without a backward glance.

Gabriel winced, every muscle protesting as he pulled up his breeches and slowly tucked in his shirt. Washed clean of blood and dirt, the rips mended, it smelled fresh and felt soft – until the material rubbed against his raw flesh.

He caught his lip, biting hard. After Melissa’s visit he had spent the rest of the morning painfully stretching and flexing; trying to loosen bruised and strained sinews. Gilbert had brought a tray of food and helped Lobb prop him up with pillows.

Dismissing Gilbert, Lobb had moved about the room, tidying. Constant stabs of pain made eating a slow, difficult business. But, aware of the butler’s surreptitious glances, Gabriel took care to be even more awkward, as if unused to silver tableware, crisp napery, and fine china. The butler spoke little but his reserve was all too obvious.

While he ate, Gabriel’s mind raced. What had he said while out of his senses? Not enough to betray his identity. But certainly sufficient to arouse suspicion and cause concern. His continued presence could only make matters worse.

‘Mr Lobb?’ he said as soon as he had finished. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful, but I shouldn’t be here. So if I could have my clothes I’ll get out of your way.’

‘Miss doesn’t think you’re fit. Looking at you, I’d say she’s right.’

‘It looks worse than it feels,’ Gabriel lied. ‘I’ll be fine once I’m moving. Miss Tregonning is a remarkable lady with a very kind heart. But you and I both know that her family wouldn’t like it one bit if they knew she’d brought me back here. She’s got problems enough without me adding more. You’ve been very good, Mr Lobb. I don’t remember much of yesterday and last night, but if it was you who cleaned me up and dressed my wounds then I’m much obliged to you. Though I’m sure a man in your position has far more important things he should be doing.’

The butler regarded him steadily for several moments. ‘Gilbert will bring your clothes. Miss is going over to her aunt’s house this afternoon. Once she’s gone I shall be busy downstairs.’

Getting out of bed had been accomplished in stages, with long pauses between while Gabriel waited for the nausea to subside and his head to stop swimming. The sweat of pain and weakness stuck the borrowed nightshirt to his scarred back. Beneath its bandage, the wound on his forehead throbbed, as loud and insistent as a drum. Eventually, fearful that she would be back before he managed to get away, he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes against the swirling blackness, and finished dressing.