The Gilded Fan (Choc Lit) (26 page)

Midori was in the kitchen doing some baking. It was a job she liked. She found it soothing to bury her hands in the soft dough and pummel it into submission. She smiled to herself as she imagined the bread was her aunt’s face and gave it an extra punch for good measure.

After Aunt Marston’s death, the atmosphere of the house had changed overnight. Where before it had been a sombre, but fairly contented, place to live, now the solemnity took over entirely. With Aunt Hesketh in control of all aspects of housekeeping, everyone was ordered around with never a kind word and more often than not a harsh one. Aunt Marston had been softly spoken, while her sister-in-law had a voice like a general and expected the same kind of blind obedience.

‘It’s all so depressing,’ Midori grumbled to Temperance. ‘And why is everything always my fault?’ She was usually the one who bore the brunt of her aunt’s anger. ‘Honestly, it’s unbearable!’

But somehow she managed to cope, mostly thanks to her two cousins who helped her in subtle ways whenever Aunt Hesketh’s back was turned. She would have loved to teach her aunt a lesson somehow, but punching the dough was the only outlet for her frustration at the moment.

As she shoved the bread into the oven and dusted off her hands, she heard knocking on the front door. Susan, the cook, and the two kitchen maids, were out on various errands and Aunt Hesketh was lying down, so Midori went to see who’d come calling.

‘Hello, Midori.’

The deep, husky voice made her look up so fast she almost fell over. She blinked at the familiar figure standing outside the door. ‘Nico!’ Midori put a hand to her heart to stop it from leaving her body altogether. She took a step backwards to steady herself. ‘What are you doing here? I mean …’

He looked the same as ever, apart from his clothes, which seemed more elaborate than anything he’d worn previously. Dressed in black from top to toe, apart from his shirt and hose, he resembled her English relatives. But unlike theirs his clothing was made of the costliest wool and his shirt was of silk which shimmered in the winter sunlight as he moved. She drank in the sight of him – the blue gaze, the sun-kissed hair, his tall, muscular frame – unable to believe her eyes. A warm feeling spread through her and she realised it was pure, unadulterated joy, just from seeing him. Without thinking, she smiled.

He grinned back and bowed with mock politeness. ‘It’s wonderful to see you, too,’ he teased, gently.

‘Of course it’s nice to see you, but … why are you here? I didn’t think you would come back.’ For a foolish moment, she’d let herself hope he had come to take her away, but she knew that was merely wishful thinking. She had refused his proposal, so she was no longer his concern.
And I don’t want to be! He’s untrustworthy, remember? A liar. Or, at least, he didn’t tell me the truth …
Her smile faded. She could never marry him, even if he had come back for her. Which he obviously hadn’t, as his next words proved.

‘I’ve come to do business with your uncle and to see how you all are, as I promised him back in August.’ Nico’s smile disappeared as well. ‘But I hear I’ve come too late to attend a funeral. Who passed away? Was it my stepmother?’

‘No, Aunt Marston.’

‘Oh, poor woman,’ Nico murmured. ‘How did your uncle take it?’

‘He’s a bit quiet, but he believes she’s in a better place now. Or so he says.’

‘Ah, yes, I see.’

‘So you’re here to do business.’ Midori tried to quell the disappointment she shouldn’t be feeling, and hid her trembling hands in the folds of her apron. Seeing him so suddenly had made her lose her customary composure and she did her best to rectify that.

‘Indeed. May I come in?’ He raised his eyebrows at her.

She stepped aside and felt her cheeks heat up. ‘Yes, of course, sorry.’

To her surprise, he headed for the kitchen instead of up the stairs and she followed him with a frown. ‘What are you doing?’

He glanced at her apron and hands, which were covered in flour. ‘I gather I’ve disturbed you at your baking, so I thought we could talk while you work. I can see the others later. Are you well?’

‘I’m very well, thank you.’

‘So what happened to Aunt Marston? Was it sudden?’

Midori told him, while busying herself with making up the dough for another loaf.

‘So how long are you staying?’ she ventured to ask.

‘I’m not sure, it depends.’

This vague answer wasn’t very satisfying, but it seemed to be all he was prepared to give her as he changed the subject. ‘But I want to hear your news. How are you managing here? Have you become a Puritan through and through?’ He looked her up and down and she became uncomfortably aware of the dismal clothes she was wearing and the cap she disliked so much. Compared to her lovely silk kimonos, these garments didn’t exactly flatter her and for some reason it bothered her today.

‘No, but I’m coping all right,’ she told him, raising her chin slightly. She was annoyed with herself for feeling at a disadvantage. It shouldn’t matter. It was what a person was like on the inside that counted and Nico, of all people, had no right to judge her.

He narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, as if he’d have liked to question her further, then looked away. ‘You’ve obviously done better than I thought.’ After a short pause, he turned back to face her again and added, ‘But you don’t need to pretend with me, you know. I realise it can’t have been easy for you and … well, perhaps now that I’m here I can help.’

Midori shrugged and reiterated, ‘I’m used to everything now. Uncle and his family have been good to me. This is where I belong.’

Nico’s gaze rested on her while he tilted his head slightly to the side and raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t quite believe her. Midori stared him straight in the eyes to convince him of her sincerity. She meant what she said and if she was stretching the truth just a little, he didn’t need to know that.

She thought back to the way they’d parted all those months ago and realised he hadn’t mentioned that. He’d just walked in here, as if nothing had happened between them, seemingly sure of his welcome. From his words, she guessed he’d thought she would have been ready to throw herself on his mercy.
Then he doesn’t know me at all
.

‘I’d best go and give my condolences to your uncle,’ he said. ‘I shall see you later, no doubt.’

When he’d gone, Midori went back to her baking, pummelling the dough even harder than before. Life was full of surprises, but why did it all have to be so difficult?

As he walked away from the house later, Nico’s feelings were in tumult. He was relieved Midori seemed healthy and well cared for, but he couldn’t fail to notice the changes in her. At first he’d had trouble recognising the girl who opened the door as the Midori he knew. The dark grey, long-sleeved bodice and matching woollen petticoat made her blend in with her surroundings, the sombre hues relieved only by a white collar, coif and apron. Her beautiful hair was hidden away –
surely they wouldn’t have cut it off?
– and for most of their conversation her face had been as solemn as her clothing.

Her eyes did light up at the sight of me, though.
He’d received one of her dazzling smiles, which was wonderful, but she soon schooled her features into a non-committal expression.
What was she hiding?
Was she telling the truth or was she merely trying to allay his fears?
No, I’ll be damned if she’s as happy as she says she is.

Harding met him down by the quay. ‘What news, sir, of the young lady? Did you manage a word in private with her?’

‘I did and she seems well enough.’

‘But?’ Harding had obviously heard the hesitation in his voice.

‘It’s probably nothing, but I can’t help feeling there’s something she’s not telling me.’

‘Well, I’m sure her uncle’s drummed it into her she ain’t s’posed to talk to men on her own. Like as not she was feelin’ guilty.’

Nico clapped Harding on the back. The man had proved to be a faithful friend and he was very grateful, so he didn’t want to burden him with his own gloomy thoughts. ‘I’m sure you’re right. I was just unsettled by seeing her again. She looked so different. Those clothes …’ He managed a smile. ‘It’s only on the surface, though, isn’t it? Underneath she’s still the same.’

‘Sure and why wouldn’t she be?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t like to think of her being mistreated.’

‘I’ve seen no sign of that, the times I’ve caught sight of her. Always seems cheerful enough to me.’

‘They’re working her awfully hard. Her hands, all red and rough …’

‘Ah, but she’s not the kind of lady to like sittin’ around all day doin’ nothin’. Don’t you remember on the ship? Always keepin’ herself busy with somethin’. And she’ll not let them browbeat her, not her.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Nico agreed. Midori had more spirit than any other woman he’d met. And that, unfortunately, would make his own task all the more difficult.

If she’d convinced herself she was happy here, how could he persuade her otherwise?

‘So you’ve brought goods to trade? Not a bad idea at the moment, not bad at all.’

Nico had returned for dinner and, as Midori watched him surreptitiously, it almost felt as though he’d never gone away. The atmosphere round the table was vastly different, however, from the last meal he’d shared with them. His antagonism was gone and it seemed to her that her uncle was looking at Nico with an almost grudging respect. Adult to adult, not adult to sulky boy. It was a welcome change.

‘I’m glad you think so. I was hoping you might want to help me find the right buyers,’ Nico replied, adding with a small smile, ‘with a percentage for your trouble, of course.’

At the thought of a profit, Uncle Marston seemed to come alive. Midori knew there was nothing he liked better than making money and she threw Nico a suspicious glance across the table. Was he deliberately trying to get into her uncle’s good graces? And if so, why? He’d never cared before. Nico stared back and, when no one else was looking, he winked at her. Midori frowned.
What game is he playing now?

He was nice to Aunt Hesketh, too, despite his stepmother’s barbed comments about the fine wool of his outfit. ‘I told you, I stole it,’ Nico said to her with a grin that showed clearly he was joking. ‘I’ll go back and get some for you, too, shall I, if you like it so much?’

Aunt Hesketh was clearly flustered and looked as though she didn’t know how to respond to such teasing. ‘Really, Nicholas,’ she muttered, but after the meal, when he produced a small gift for each of the ‘ladies’, as he called them, she seemed pleased.

‘You know we don’t hold with wearing trinkets,’ she reproached him as she pulled a plain silver chain with a small, brown cross on it out of the bit of linen it had been tied into. ‘And why are you buying us gifts anyway?’

‘You reminded me last time I came that I should have done so. Have you now changed your mind?’ Nico teased again, then added, ‘It’s a religious symbol and it’s not of any great value. I picked it up in the Baltic, where you can find amber yourself just by wandering along the sea shore. I’m sure no one could object to something so plain. What do you think, Jacob?’

Her uncle, still in a good mood at the thought of profits to be gained from Nico’s goods, gave his consent. ‘It’s not even shiny,’ he agreed.

Midori opened her own little parcel and found what looked like a small, smooth lump of hardened sap hanging off an equally plain chain. Although it wasn’t glittering like other jewels, she had a feeling Nico had underplayed its value nonetheless. When she held it up to the light, she could see a tiny flower trapped inside, as if frozen in time. She looked over at Temperance, who was exclaiming over her own necklace. As far as Midori could see, her cousin’s was nothing but a polished piece of amber, although pretty when penetrated by sunlight. Temperance said nothing of there being anything inside.

‘Yours is special,’ Nico said quietly behind her, his voice audible only to her. ‘But please don’t tell anyone or they’ll take it away. Shall I help you with the fastening?’

Midori didn’t know what to say. The fact that he’d singled her out in this way made her feel flustered and she wasn’t sure she should accept such a gift from him. If she didn’t, though, she would have to explain herself and that would never do, either. She hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘Thank you.’ She handed him the chain and he quickly put it on for her. The brief touch of his fingers on her neck sent a spark shimmering down her spine and Midori had to stop herself from making a sound. She thought he lingered a tiny while longer than he should, but then he moved away to help his stepmother as well, without saying anything else.

Nico took his leave soon after, and Midori was left to wonder once again what he was up to. For she could clearly see he was waging some sort of campaign – the profit for her uncle and the trinkets for the women were only the beginning, she was sure.

What would he do next?

Nico was pleased Midori had accepted his gift, even if she’d done so reluctantly. For once, she’d let down her guard and showed her emotions clearly. He’d read confusion and surprise in her eyes, which was what he’d hoped for. Catching her off balance was the only way to see her true feelings, and that had been his purpose. He had to know if there was any way he could redeem himself in her eyes. If she could forgive him.

Only then could he ask her once again to marry him.

I was a complete idiot the first time I asked her.
He should have known he’d been doomed to failure because once Midori decided on something, she stuck with it no matter what. He’d only made matters worse by kissing her, he could see that now. With any other woman, he knew he could have cajoled them into forgiving him for whatever misdeeds they considered he’d done. Midori was different.

Once her good opinion was lost, it would be hard to regain. And he had lost it, no doubt about that. She’d made it clear she didn’t trust him; thought him dishonourable and a liar. She wasn’t like other women, she couldn’t simply be charmed or persuaded by gifts and attention, although he was hoping that might help, hence the amber. She lived by different values and a strict code of conduct. And she wasn’t ruled by emotion.
Or at least, not much.