He didn’t move, but his eyes had narrowed in on her, as if he’d become aware of her scrutiny. They gazed at each other without saying anything, but there was communication of sorts, as if she’d touched him at a deeper level of awareness. The faint, wry smile he offered set her stomach fluttering skyways. Something significant had happened between them, but she didn’t know what.
‘What are you thinking, Sarry?’
‘That your uncle filled my mind with this place that he loved, and that was his gift to me.’
‘You think of him a lot, don’t you?’
‘Yes. I don’t mean to, but every so often I see something that Mr John told me about, and I remember his passion in the telling of it.’
‘I know what you mean. I’ve been reading his journals.’
‘What did he say about me?’
‘He said you’d ask, and I was to tell you that what he wrote in his journal was none of your damned business.’
She burst into laughter. ‘As if I’d listen. Tell me anyway.’
‘You tell me about the time you removed buckshot from his rear end.’
‘He told me not to look at his arse. So I said how could I remove the buckshot if I didn’t and he said to pretend I wasn’t looking. So I did that. What did Mr John say happened?’
‘He said you laughed and dug the buckshot out with no thought for his comfort. Then you poured iodine into the wounds, and told him not to be a baby when he winced. So he did what he was told.’
‘It wasn’t a wince, it was a yelp, and Mr John never,
ever
did what he was told. He was a rebel through and through, and I think that’s why I liked him so much.’ Her smile faded. ‘I do hope he didn’t suffer.’
‘He never saw the bullet coming and it was instant, straight through the heart. No, he didn’t suffer.’
She said. ‘I wonder if it was a coincidence, his killer being Flynn Collins.’
‘Why should it be?’
‘When I’d told him what Flynn had done, your uncle said if he ever ran into him, he’d take him to task over it on my behalf.’
‘So you think he ran into Collins after you left, and he had it out with him, then Collins lay in wait for him and shot him in the back.’
She nodded.
‘It’s quite possible, I suppose. There must have been a reason behind the shooting. I hope you’re not about to blame yourself.’
She shrugged as something else niggled at the back of her mind. ‘That man in Dorchester the other day, the one who called himself Jack Maitland. He reminded me of Flynn Collins. The boy said his accent might have been a Scot . . . but then, he might have been Irish.’
He smiled at that. ‘Sarry, my love, I think your imagination is running away with you a little and that would be just too much of a coincidence.’
‘Yes . . . yes, I suppose it is.’
‘Then let’s drop this morbid subject.’
She smiled at him, trying to keep her excitement under control. ‘I’m so looking forward to this ball.’
‘I’m looking forward to it myself. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.’
‘Will there be an orchestra playing music?’
He looked slightly pained. ‘Of course there will. It’s a ball.’
Alarm filled her. ‘What if nobody wants to dance with me?’
‘I daresay I’ll manage to swing you round and crush your toes for you now and again. You’re far too excited, Sarry. Stop this, else I’ll take you back home and leave you there.’
‘I feel sort of breathless.’
‘If you faint I’ll throw you out of the carriage into the bushes.’ He moved across to sit beside her. ‘Tell me you’re not going to faint. I never know what to do with fainting women.’
‘Do women faint often when they’re with you, then?’
‘Luckily, no.’
‘When one does, you should loosen their corsets,’ she suggested, and poked him in the ribs. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to faint. I told you, I prattle when I’m nervous.’
‘So you do.’ When he tipped up her chin and kissed her she stopped prattling.
Sarette had rested all afternoon. Now she wore the pale green gown Magnus had bought her from Madame Maria’s salon. She also wore the pearl set that Gerald and Ignatious Grimble had given her. In fact, her outfit had been provided by three men.
‘There, you can look in the mirror now.’
A knock came at the door before she could, and Ada wailed, ‘It can’t be Mr Kern. It’s too early.’
It was a messenger with a small box from Magnus. Inside, in a bed of pink velvet was a sparkling brooch in the shape of a crescent moon with a trembling star hanging from the bottom point.
She turned it this way and that, watching it sparkle. ‘How pretty it is.’
Ada pinned it to one side of her waist, then helped her hands and arms into long kid gloves. She placed the loop of a fan over her wrist, then turned her to face the mirror and said with satisfaction, ‘There.’
The image that gazed back at her was that of an elegant woman, and she felt more grown-up than she ever had in her life before. Was this the dusty urchin that had been abandoned on goldfields? Look at me now, Mr John, she thought. I’m going to make Magnus proud of me tonight, just you wait and see.
He came for her shortly afterwards, his smile reminding her of the small intimacy between them in the carriage. She wished he’d kiss her again, only longer and harder.
‘You’re exquisite. Well done, Ada,’ he said. ‘Go down to the servant’s dining room and get yourself some dinner. George will show you where it is.’
After Ada had gone, Sarette smiled. ‘Thank you for the brooch, that was sweet of you. I have something for you, too.’
She picked up the object, which she’d wrapped in her lace handkerchief and handed it to him.’
After he’d uncovered it he said with some astonishment, ‘My uncle’s watch? I’d wondered what had happened to it.’
‘He gave it to me just as I was leaving. He said it would prove to you that I was genuine. He also told me to sell it if I ran out of money. It’s gold, you see. And it has his name in it. I know he would have wanted you to have it. I was going to give it to you for Christmas. It’s just a little early.’
Magnus was staring down at it.
‘You do like it, don’t you? I’d never have sold it, and I always intended to give it to you. You’re not cross with me for not handing it over sooner?’
‘This was one of my uncle’s most treasured possessions. I bought it for him, for his fiftieth birthday.’ Magnus fitted the case into the pocket of his waistcoat, and the chain through the aperture made for it. Her handkerchief went into another pocket. ‘I’m pleased it wasn’t lost. I’ll treasure it, too.’
When she reached up to kiss his cheek he turned his head and claimed her mouth. It was soft and warm, and this time he took her bottom lip between his teeth and gently sucked it into his mouth before letting it go. She could have sworn that her toes curled.
‘Don’t you dare kiss me like that again,’ she scolded.
‘Why? Are you frightened you’ll faint and I’ll have to loosen your corset.’
‘To be honest . . . yes!’
He laughed, and held out his arm to her. ‘May I remind you that it was you who kissed me. All I did was respond. Shall we go? I don’t want to be late.’
She grinned at him, feeling the excitement of attending her first ball quivering inside her. ‘No, that wouldn’t do at all.’
Gerald was standing with his brothers when Magnus came down the stairs with Sarry on his arm.
He hadn’t been expecting to see Magnus, and could have kicked himself. He’d had no idea that Magnus had been pulling the wool over his eyes. My God, what has he done to the girl? he thought. She’s glowing. So was Magnus come to that. Gerald was suspicious, but admiring of his friend’s ability to outwit him on this occasion.
They were shown to their table, where Magnus greeted his partner Clive Farrington and his wife. Seated at his friend’s table was a fatuous old magistrate called James Huff, who was as deaf as a post, and his rotund wife, who was dressed in green satin frills, and weighed down with so many diamonds she appeared to be wearing a chandelier. Poor old Magnus getting stuck on a table with those two, he thought. Thank goodness he personally had a large family to hide amongst.
‘Who’s that with Magnus Kern?’ Jessica Fenwick asked his sister Olivia.
‘Her name’s Sarette Maitland. She’s Magnus’s ward, I believe.’
‘The woman who’s living with him at Fierce Eagles?’ Jessica sounded shocked. ‘They say the late Mr Kern found her in the Australian countryside living with a tribe of natives, and sent her here to be tamed and educated.’
‘Ah . . . so the ubiquitous
they
have singled her out, have they?’ Gerald said. ‘Poor Sarette. She and Magnus will be joining us for Christmas, so you’ll be able to form your own opinion of whether she can use a knife and fork properly. Perhaps we should cook up a dish of snakes for her to eat.’
‘Gerald, don’t be so churlish,’ Olivia said sharply. ‘Jessica wasn’t to know that Sarette Maitland is a particular friend of yours.’
Jessica sniffed. ‘The gown she’s wearing must have cost a fortune. Miss Maitland is lucky she has such a wealthy patron.’
Olivia said sharply, ‘Shush, please keep your voice down, Jessica.’
Before I stuff a tablecloth in your mouth, Gerald thought uncharitably, because it had just occurred to him that he’d have to apologize to Sarette for withdrawing his invitation, and without being armed with the excuse Magnus had used on his behalf. But first he was placed in the position of needing to defend her. ‘Miss Maitland is a respectable and charming young woman who has been left a fortune in her own right—’ He clamped his mouth over his slip of the tongue.
Olivia grinned. ‘I know all about it, Gerald dear. You men don’t realize how indiscreet you can be at the family dinner table.’
‘Then I hope you keep anything you hear private, Olivia. Now, I must go and fill in Sarette’s dance card. This is her first ball, I understand.’
‘Then I do hope it turns out to be a memorable one for her,’ Olivia said, and exchanged a sly glance with Jessica.
At that moment Sarette caught sight of him. She tugged gently at Magnus’s sleeve, something that spoke of a new familiarity between them. Magnus was not usually the type of man to encourage such familiarity.
Gerald found himself warmed by her smile, then she whispered something to Magnus.
His friend glanced over, his eyes as unfathomable as his smile, except for the challenge in them. They bowed slightly to each other, like a couple of fencers about to joust.
Gerald excused himself and crossed to their table. ‘I thought you didn’t intend to come, Magnus.’
Magnus smiled blandly. ‘I decided I didn’t want to disappoint Sarette since she’d never been to a ball before.’
‘And this one is full of old legal gentlemen with not much sap left in them to expend on dance.’ Picking up her hand he kissed her knuckles. ‘My profound apologies for letting you down, Sarry. The pressures of work.’
‘A headache wasn’t it?’ she said, and when Gerald heard Magnus stifle a laugh he knew that Sarette was aware of the truth.
‘You know it wasn’t. I simply forgot after family pressure persuaded me to escort someone else. They are eager to marry me off. I can only hope that you’ll forgive me the insult and allow me the honour to be the first to fill out your dance card.’
‘Thank you, Gerald, but Judge Huff has already done that by claiming the second dance.’
‘Commiserations,’ he whispered in her ear, and she giggled and handed him her card. He filled in three spaces. ‘I hope to dance you off your feet tonight, which will also give me the opportunity to grovel all evening and redeem myself.’
‘Thank you, Gerald. You don’t have to redeem yourself. I quite understand that you must put your family’s wishes first.’
‘You’re an angel, and the most beautiful woman here, Sarry,’ he said sincerely.
Magnus gave a faint smile. ‘Your loss was my gain, Gerald.’
Mrs Huff gently coughed and Gerald’s eyes went to her overpowering greenness. Best to get it over with early, before she began to perspire, he supposed.
‘Except for you of course, Mrs Huff. You look magnificent, but then, you always do. Perhaps you’d honour me with the second dance.’
His father came over to greet Sarette with old-fashioned courtliness. ‘My dear, how lovely you look. Can I book you for the last dance before supper?’
‘Thank you, Mr Grimble. I would be honoured to dance with you.’
‘Good, then perhaps you’d allow me to escort you in to supper, as well.’
Her glance went to Magnus, who gave a faint smile and nodded.
Gerald’s eyes narrowed. Magnus seemed to have her on a long rein at the moment. Her shoulders were as smooth and creamy as ivory, he thought, looking down at them. There was something about her now. She was less the child and more the woman in her thinking and ways, and she had Magnus eating out of her hand.
Or had she? Perhaps it was the other way round because he’d never known Magnus to allow anyone to lead him by the nose. But the last time he’d seen the two of them together they’d been at loggerheads. He teased himself with the infuriating thought that Magnus was better positioned to take advantage of the girl. But his friend had long resisted the pressure to wed anyone, and Gerald was surprised he’d suggested a scheme where marriage was the outcome.
When Gerald met Magnus’s eyes, dark and implacable, he didn’t know whether he wanted to lose this wager, or win it. His mouth twitched into a smile. The winner of this would be the loser, Magnus said. Hah! Trust him to come up with something complicated like this, though it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
The music started and he made his excuses, remembering he had to dance with Jessica first. Her mouth had a mean, thin look to it when she gossiped.
‘. . . and Felicia Fowler said her mother saw them coming out of Madame Marie’s salon together . . . and we all know what type of women
she
designs for,’ Jessica was saying to Olivia as he approached.
He hid his distaste and smiled at her, ‘Our dance, I believe.’
Her smile changed from spiteful to simpering. ‘Oh, Gerald, there you are. I thought you’d forgotten about poor little me.’
Gerald could only wish
poor little her
would allow him to as he led her out on the floor and she almost manacled herself to his arm.