Jo Goodman (23 page)

"Abducting you again, I'm afraid." He said this without a shade of regret. "To Rosefield, Miss Remington. Colin's home."

Jonna's suspicions did not silence the sudden slamming of her heart. "Colin lives at Weybourne Park," she said.

"That's right. And Rosefield is one of his residences. The ancestral home, as it were. He inherited it when Lord Fielding, the old earl, died last year."

Jonna nodded. "Colin wrote me about it," she said. "But Lord Fielding was your grandfather, too."

"I never knew him though, not like Colin came to know him. And then there was the matter of my thieving. It seems he found something objectionable about my occupation."

"Imagine that," Jonna said dryly. Her violet eyes regarded Decker curiously. "Tell me something. Are you still a wanted man here in England?"

There was a glimmer of a smile on Decker's mouth. "I'd say no one's much interested in Decker Thorne," he said. "But Ponty Pine?
He
could still face a hangman's rope."

Jonna wondered if that were really true. He seemed to delight in testing the limits of her expectations. "Why Rosefield? Won't Colin be expecting you to stay at Weybourne Park?"

"Rosefield borders the Park and Colin knows I prefer not to be underfoot."

Jonna didn't pursue the matter, though she suspected there was something left unsaid. "If you're certain it will be all right," she said. She strived for evenness in her tone and achieved it. "I confess it will be a pleasure to see Colin again. We will see him, won't we?"

Watching her closely, Decker nodded. "And Mercedes, of course."

"Oh, yes. I'm looking forward to meeting her. Their children, too."

Decker could almost believe she meant all of it. "Then we're agreed? You'll come to Rosefield."

She liked him for giving her the illusion of choice. "Yes, we're agreed." Jonna watched Decker go to finish his business with the ship. Was it her imagination, she wondered. Or did his step seem even lighter than usual?

* * *

It was dark by the time they reached Rosefield. Jonna thought the lateness of the hour was good enough reason for not announcing themselves at Weybourne Park first. They were met in the drive by a full complement of servants and Decker immediately dispatched one to Weybourne Park with the message of their arrival. Some of Jonna's weariness faded as she mounted the wide stone stairs to the entrance.

The housekeeper let them in. At the first sign of the carriage in the drive she had ordered the staff to be sharp. Rosefield was kept in a state of readiness, but there were always small details that required an extra touch. It was not often that the staff performed their duties with guests in residence. Now Mrs. Shepard would see if their preparation met the exacting standards of the earl's brother.

"Good evening, sir," she said, inclining her head. "May I extend the best wishes of myself and the staff?"

"Indeed you may, Mrs. Shepard." Decker helped Jonna with her coat and bonnet and then handed both to the housekeeper. "Your spies must be everywhere," he said. "I think you knew I was coming before I knew myself."

Mrs. Shepard's round face flushed with pleasure. She beamed at him. "Right you are, m'lord."

He gave the housekeeper his own coat. "This is Miss Remington. She'll be staying here as well. Or did your spies already tell you that?"

"You know all is as it should be. Shall I show you to your rooms?"

Decker looked at Jonna. "I don't think I could sleep just yet," she said.

"Refreshment in the library, then," Decker told the housekeeper. "Something light. We ate dinner at an inn on the post road." He offered Jonna his elbow. "This way."

Jonna's own home on Beacon Hill was impressive by any standard, but in size and grandeur it was a mere carriage house compared to Rosefield. The hallway dwarfed them as they made their way to the library, and their footfalls echoed upon crossing the polished floor. Mrs. Shepard ushered them in, then went to oversee the preparation of their repast.

The library was a veritable cavern of books. Jonna barely noticed. She spun on her heel to face Decker as soon as they were alone. "Mrs. Shepard called you m'lord," she said accusingly.

Decker shrugged. "Habit, I expect," he said. "Colin's an earl now, and I'm his brother. It signifies nothing. I think she means it as a courtesy." One of his brows kicked up. "You're not impressed by titles, are you?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. A thorough Yankee."

It seemed to Jonna that since arriving in England Decker's accent had sharpened. As hard as it had been to imagine Decker Thorne here, it reminded her now that she was the one who didn't belong. "This is all Colin's?" she asked.

"Impressive, isn't it?" He walked past her to the large fireplace and held out his hands. "Tomorrow you can have a tour of the estate. Colin will probably come in the morning. He'll show you around."

Jonna was careful to keep her hands still. "Why don't you?"

"I don't know where everything is myself. I don't think I've been here three times since Colin inherited it. When I'm in London on the business of Remington Shipping—
your
business—there's little time to come out this way. If I know when I'll be in London, Colin and Mercedes will sometimes meet me at their townhouse. There hasn't been much opportunity. Colin and I mostly exchange letters."

She spoke without thinking. "How can that be when you've only just—" Jonna stopped herself as her thoughts caught up with her tongue.

"When I've only just learned to read and write myself?" he asked. "That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Do you think I'm ashamed of it?"

"No, I hope not. There's no reason to be." She remembered the first time he had shown her his ship's log. There had been an undercurrent of challenge in the gesture that had nothing to do with what they were talking about at the time. He had been waiting to see if she would comment on his careful script and attention to spelling. He was sensitive to it no matter what he said to the contrary. "I thought perhaps it caused you some embarrassment."

Decker rarely showed his hand. He realized that somehow he had this time. Embarrassment was the exact thing he felt, but that emotion didn't register in either his startling blue eyes or his careless smile. "It's all right," he said. "You can say whatever occurs to you to keep me under your feet."

Jonna flushed. "I didn't deserve that."

"Yes, you did." Decker turned and picked up a poker. He nudged at the fire. "But you're correct about my reading and writing. I wasn't entirely illiterate when I joined Remington Shipping but near enough. Jack helped me with the letters to Colin, and I studied on my own. He wouldn't have recommended me to take command of
Huntress
if he didn't think I could log the journey."

Jonna was relieved when Mrs. Shepard appeared with a tray. It was set on the cherry wood table between two leather arm chairs. She thanked the housekeeper and offered to pour herself. When she and Decker were alone again she didn't touch the tea or cakes. Her appetite for even this light fare had fled.

She walked over to the fireplace and stood beside Decker. "I've read your logs," she said quietly. "I've no complaints."

Decker shrugged and replaced the poker. "Jack's a good teacher."

"That's something we have in common. Jack's been a teacher to both of us."

"And Colin," Decker said. He was staring at the fire, but he was watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Colin, too. I suppose Jack's responsible in some way for bringing us all together."

"He'd like to think so," Decker said dryly.

"It makes me wonder what he could do about your other brother."

Decker reached in his vest pocket and withdrew the heirloom earring. He held it out in his open palm so it caught the firelight. "Jack knows what to look for. There's only one other like it."

"Do you think Greydon still has it? He was only an infant when Colin slipped it into his blankets."

"Who can say? The couple who took him from Cunnington's Workhouse may have recognized the worth of the piece and kept it for him."

She watched Decker repocket the earring. "That's everything you own, isn't it?"

"You sound amazed. I told you I could carry everything I valued."

"If you've never cared for possessions, then why did you make a career of stealing the possessions of others?"

"Because I could, I suppose."

Jonna's mouth flattened at the flippant remark. "I think I'll retire now," she said. "I find I have no appetite."

"And no particular fondness for the company."

She did not attempt to soften his observation. "Not just now," she said.

* * *

Jonna woke early the following morning. She took special pains with her appearance, pinching color into her cheeks and asking one of the maids to dress her hair. She forced a certain gaiety into her expression that was at odds with the tight knot of dread in her stomach.

Decker only glanced at her when she entered the breakfast room. She was seated at the far end of the table and served dishes from the sideboard. "You slept well?" he asked.

She had slept hardly at all. "Very well, thank you. My room is quite lovely. I have a view of the grounds to the south. I imagine the gardens are magnificent in the spring and summer. Have you seen them then?" Jonna was chattering, and she knew it. The thing of it was she couldn't seem to help herself. "Even covered with snow they have a certain charm. I could make out the paths and the maze."

Decker had the same view from his suite of rooms. Although Jonna didn't know it, they shared the east wing of the manor. "I've seen them," he said. "I haven't Colin's eye for that sort of thing, so I can't judge their charm."

The forced brightness in Jonna's violet eyes faded at the mention of Colin's name. She smoothed her napkin in her lap to hide her nervous fingers. "My mother taught Colin about gardening," she said. "She loved flowers. I think she passed more of that love on to him than she did me. I've never thought it took a special eye to judge beauty or charm. You know what you like, don't you?"

Decker held Jonna's glance. "Yes," he said. "I know what I like."

"There you have it," she said simply. When he didn't look away Jonna's own gaze dropped to her plate. She picked up her fork. "Now, if you're talking about creating a garden, or anything beautiful for that matter, it helps to have an artist's eye."

"Like Colin."

Jonna felt her pulse quicken again. She placed her free hand just above her heart. Beneath her gown and camisole the ivory pendant lay solidly against her skin. "Actually, I was thinking of you," she said. "Your scrimshaw is the work of an artist." Her hand fell away, and she began eating. "I would judge your eye to be every bit as good as your brother's."

Decker wondered if she realized it was the first time she had ever compared him favorably to Colin. He found his next bite of food to have more taste than the one before. It occurred to him that bringing Jonna to Rosefield was an inspired idea after all.

His sister-in-law would certainly think so. Mercedes had suggested it almost a year ago.

Chapter 7

Colin Thorne stepped down from the carriage. Snow crunched beneath his feet. His blond hair glinted in the sunshine like a helmet of light. In startling contrast to his pale hair were dark brown eyes that had more in common with polished onyx than chocolate. As he turned to hold out a hand to the carriage's other occupant a smile softened the line of his square-cut jaw.

Mercedes Leyden Thorne took her husband's hand gratefully. It was not so simple a thing to alight from a carriage these days. The shape of her small, slender body had been noticeably redefined by pregnancy. In her seventh month her high, narrow waistline had disappeared along with her view of her feet. Consequently she almost missed the step.

Colin caught Mercedes easily and set her down in front of him. The hood of her cape fell back, exposing thick hair the color of bittersweet chocolate. Her gray eyes were shining as she raised her face and laughter was hinted at in her open smile.