Hearts of Gold (14 page)

‘Magnus didn’t seem all that interested in meeting you. He’s going to London soon, and will probably send the carriage for you when the time comes for you to move into his home. When he returns to Fierce Eagles you’ll come as a complete surprise to him.’

She felt piqued. ‘How rude. It’s not that far to come and meet me, surely.’

He moved her to arm’s length, took a spotless handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbed her tears, his eyes blue and guileless. His eyes met hers. ‘There.’

She was aware of him in a way she’d never been before, and it made her feel nervous. He smiled, rose to his feet and held out his hand. Hers was warm inside it. ‘Come on, let’s get back in time for tea.’

And he kept her hand in his all the way home.

‘Are you sure you didn’t drop any hints about John’s will?’ Ignatious said on the way home.

‘Perfectly sure.’

‘I’m glad you told her about John passing on though, it’s over and done with now, and it will make it easier for Mrs Lawrence. She was quite upset.’

‘I think I might pay court to her when all is settled.’

‘Who, Mrs Lawrence?’

It was unusual for his father to make a joke and Gerald grinned. ‘If I was a bit older, then I’d certainly consider giving her gentleman friend a run for his money. But it’s Sarette, of course. She’ll have a good dowry and I like her. She’s a spirited little creature.’

‘Magnus might challenge the will and win, you know. Nobody would think any of the worse of him for it. After all, the girl is no relation. It would only take the right lawyer to tie her up in knots and ruin her reputation, and the right magistrate would soon give him the nod.’

‘Magnus is not that mercenary, father. He won’t challenge, I’ll stake my life on it.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

‘I don’t know if you noticed, and I don’t know if it occurred to Magnus at the time, but I think not. John Kern has set a real test of his honesty. John has placed Sarette’s legacy in his hands, as well as her welfare. Magnus doesn’t need to challenge the will and he’s accountable to nobody but himself. He could quite easily rob her blind, but that would encroach on his own sense of self-worth and the honesty he prides himself for. I think his self-discipline is stronger than his avarice. None but you and I would be any the wiser if he spent her legacy. Certainly not Sarette. And we wouldn’t say a word.’

His father laughed. ‘You’re right. Then it will be interesting to watch developments and see if blood will out. But there’s something you might not have thought of. I wouldn’t put it past Magnus to do things the easy way, and marry the girl himself. He will have her under his roof.’

Gerald’s frown was followed by a grin. ‘That will make the courting of her into a real contest. You do know that he’s got the idea in his head that Sarette is a child, don’t you?’

‘I noticed you didn’t put him straight.’

‘Neither did you.’

Ignatious cackled with laughter. ‘Far be it for me to spoil your little game. Just be careful she doesn’t catch you at it, Gerald.’

Mrs Lawrence’s household was a sombre one that evening. It had begun to rain, a light but persistent drizzle that soaked through everything. Mr Taggard kept them company, and the conversation was desultory.

As soon as it was polite Sarette excused herself and went up to her room, her heart weighed down with sorrow. Changing into her nightdress she sat by the window and watched the droplets chase each other down the glass. Along the seafront the street lamps came on and gave out a misty light.

Picking up the photograph of herself with John Kern she whispered, ‘I’ll never forget you, Mr John.’ She took his watch out from the bottom of her trunk and ran her fingertip over his name, then wound it up and held it to her ear. It began to tick strongly. She placed it under her pillow when she went to bed, imagining that it was the heart of her pirate rogue beating.
Tick . . . tick . . . tick
. . .

Her mouth twitched into a smile when it chimed and she remembered him taking the timepiece from the pocket of his waistcoat and putting it to his ear, before smiling at her and saying, ‘All’s right with our world, Sarry girl.’

But it wasn’t their world any more, it was hers. John Kern had moved on and left her behind, and she’d have to live in it without him. Gerald had been right. It was time she grew up.

She opened her eyes when Mrs Lawrence came in.

‘Are you all right, Sarette.’

‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Lawrence. I was thinking about John Kern.’

‘Yes . . . I imagined you were. It’s all right to feel sad, you know. John didn’t deserve to die like that.’

‘I think he’d have preferred it, rather than being ill and in pain, and lingering on. The more I think of it the more I think he lied about his health. He made all these arrangements for me because he was ill, and he gave me all his treasured possessions to hand over to his nephew when the time came. They are in that big trunk.’

‘Ah . . . I’d wondered why you hadn’t opened it. There’s something I’d like to tell you, Sarette. Mr Taggard has proposed marriage to me.’

‘That’s wonderful.’

‘You think so?’

‘He’s a kind gentleman, who seems to hold you in great esteem. And you get on well together.’

‘So you think I should accept?’

Sarette nodded. ‘You sound unsure. Do you love another then?’

Iris Lawrence smiled. ‘I thought I did, but memories play tricks and sometimes you hanker after someone you can never have. We can’t measure one man or his passion against another’s. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them. And we shouldn’t allow happiness to pass us by when it’s sincerely offered. Thank you, dear, I’ll take your advice and accept.’ She kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘Goodnight.’

Iris Lawrence had just reached the door when Sarette said, ‘The man you loved and hankered after . . . it was John Kern, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes, he and my father did business together. I spurned him for another and from that learned an unhappy truth. John had never loved me. The marriage would have been one of convenience.’

‘Did you love your husband, Mrs Lawrence?’

A fleeting smile touched her face and she said simply, ‘In my way. He was the sweetest, most gentle man I’ve ever known. It’s to my everlasting sorrow that I never bore him a child.’ She nodded and closed the door behind her.

When the carriage turned through the gates at Fierce Eagles Sarry stuck her head out of the window and gazed up the long curving drive to where the warm facade of the house could just be glimpsed between the trees.

She ducked back in, her carefully arranged hairstyle blown into shreds, and said to the maid who’d been sent for her, ‘It’s exactly as Mr John said it would be at this time of year. Look at all the leaves flying from the trees. It’s so pretty. I didn’t believe him when he said the leaves changed to all these colours in autumn . . . not until I saw them for myself.’

‘I don’t know what the master will say when he comes home from London and claps his eyes on you,’ her companion said, and she cackled with laughter. ‘I reckon he’ll get a big surprise.’

Sarette grinned at the woman. ‘Have you worked for the Kern family very long.’

‘I’ve worked at Fierce Eagles since I was fourteen, when I started work as a housemaid for the late master and his missus. Then she upped and died, and not long after, Miss Margaret followed her. Right cut up, the master was . . . right cut up. We thought he’d never recover from the loss. Then the present master came from London and stayed.’

‘Mr Magnus Kern?’

‘Aye. Mr Magnus we used to call him when he was younger, and when the old master was alive. He came down from London where he was trained as a barrister, and he opened an office in Dorchester. He helped his uncle to recover from his loss, right enough. He were a good companion to him and made him laugh. Mr Magnus loved his uncle like a father, since John Kern raised him after his own father died. Then one day, the master upped and offed. I’m going away to look for adventure while I still can, sez he. All that way . . . fancy.’

Yes, fancy, Sarette thought, for that decision had led John Kern to her, and if it hadn’t she’d now be dead, or worse. She must make the most of what his generous heart had provided for her. ‘What’s Mr Magnus Kern like?’

‘He has a quiet way with him, just like his uncle had, and is a fair and honest man. But he’s not so easy to deal with as his uncle was. He likes this house to be run well, and can’t abide lateness. Sometimes he’s stern, and he expects his orders to be carried out to the letter. But he gives praise where praise is due.’ She shook her head, said doubtfully, ‘I don’t know what he’ll say when he comes back from London and sees you, that I don’t.’

‘You’ve already said that once, Verna. Why should he say anything, when he’s expecting me? After all, he sent the carriage.’

‘He wasn’t exactly expecting
you
, miss. He was expecting someone . . . well,
different
.’

‘Different?’

‘A bit younger, like.’

‘I’m not exactly old,’ Sarette said in exasperation. ‘When is Mr Kern expected home.’

‘He didn’t say, Miss. He might stay in London until after Christmas. Then again, he might come whistling through the front door tomorrow.’

The carriage drew to a halt and a man came out of the house, opened the door and let down the step. He looked past her into the carriage. ‘Where’s the girl, Verna?’

‘There ain’t no girl, Mr Branston. Nor was there any nursemaid. The agency said she got herself another position in London with a titled gentleman, and had left on the morning train.’

The man’s glance wandered back to her. ‘Then who—?’

‘This is Miss Maitland. Miss, this is Branston, the butler.’

‘Miss Maitland?’ Branston exchanged a glance with Verna and said, ‘Verna, perhaps you’d show the young lady to her rooms, while Robert and I bring her luggage up.’

‘You want me to—’

‘Mr Kern gave specific orders and he’ll expect them to be carried out to the letter.’

Sarette followed Verna up three flights of stairs, then turned left along a narrow corridor and took another left turn through a door. She found herself in a large airy room with windows that looked out over the copse. There was a fire burning in the fireplace. The wallpaper was pink and cream stripes, and sprinkled with nursery rhyme scenes.

There was a small bed with a lace cover. Sarette glanced doubtfully at it.

Verna suggested, ‘You can sleep in the nursemaid’s room if you’d rather.’

The nursemaid’s room was stark in comparison, with an iron bedstead, a chest with drawers in, and a shelf. The window was set up high, so she couldn’t see out, and was more like a skylight.

‘I’d rather not sleep here at all.’ Sarette turned and went back to the nursery. Her glance absorbed the cradle with a rag doll in it, a box of animal figures and a doll’s house. Books were stacked neatly on a table. The place looked newly furnished and decorated, as though Magnus Kern had been expecting . . .? She chuckled. ‘Mr Kern thought I was a child, didn’t he?’

‘Aye, he did. She’ll be about four, he told us, which is why Robert and I were so surprised when we saw you.’ She threw open a cupboard, which was filled with neatly folded children’s clothing. ‘See.’

‘What made him think I was four years old?’

Verna avoided her eyes. ‘I can’t really say, Miss.’

Sarette, who’d gained considerably in confidence in the year she’d spent with Mrs Lawrence, coaxed her with a smile. ‘I’m quite sure you’re clever enough to take a good guess, Verna.’

Verna lowered her voice. ‘Well, as long as you don’t tell Mr Kern I said so . . . it was like this, we’ve been discussing it in the kitchen. What with Mr Grimble telling the master you looked a bit like Miss Margaret, we all thought . . . because Mr John Kern had been gone a long time that . . . he . . . Mr Magnus Kern, that is, thought that perhaps you were
related
to Mr John in some way.’

Which was a rather long-winded way to get the point across. ‘Do you mean Magnus Kern thought I was a daughter Mr John fathered on a woman he’d met since he left here? Surely not.’

Verna looked mortified when Sarette began to laugh. ‘If you don’t mind me saying Miss . . . the master won’t like it, you being grown-up and all. He won’t like it at all, especially since the young Mr Grimble led him to believe that . . .’

‘Gerald Grimble told him I was four?’

‘Well, not exactly. I happened to be just outside the study door polishing the hall table, and I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. Mr Gerald Grimble didn’t say how old you were, and neither did his father.’

The butler came in hanging on to the largest of the trunks, with Robert on the other end. They grunted as they lowered it to the ground.

Sarette eyed it. ‘I’m sorry. It will have to be moved again, Mr Branston, since we shall have to find another room for me. I’m much to old to sleep in a nursery.’

‘But the master said he couldn’t be bothered with having a girl running underfoot, and you could live up here out of his way.’

‘He wouldn’t have put me here had he known my advanced age. Please be good enough to find me a room, or must I find my own?’

The servants gazed at each other in dismay, then the butler said rather stiffly to Verna, ‘What about Miss Margaret’s room. That’s ready for occupancy, and it has an adjoining bathroom.’

Verna gave him a doubtful look. ‘But the master said—’

With every word Sarette disliked Magnus Kern just a little bit more. ‘Miss Margaret’s room will do. Mr John told me all about her, and I feel that I know her. As for your master, I’ll explain matters to him, so you needn’t fear reprimand.’

‘But all Miss Margaret’s things are in there. It’s just how Mr John Kern ordered it to be left. He said it was to be kept clean and dusted, as if she was still alive, and nobody was to use it.’

Sarette knew how much Mr John had loved his daughter and she didn’t want to violate his wishes. ‘Then I won’t disturb it. Somewhere else?’

Verna had a mulish look on her face now. ‘I’m the upstairs maid, so it’s not my job to allocate rooms, it’s the housekeeper’s. Mrs Young is away visiting her sick mother for a week so you’ll have to wait until she comes back. Could be she’ll stay, what with her being old and getting her legacy, and all. Then I’ll be in charge of household matters, and will be able to give you another room.’