Salting the Wound (16 page)

Coming round Brownsea island he couldn’t see the
Daisy Jane
, but that wasn’t unusual. He moved the glass to the quay. A man who resembled Seth Hardy was stood there, but he couldn’t see anyone else. He’d already said goodbye to Aria, but he handed the wheel to the first mate. He needed to kiss her one more time. ‘Take her in. I’m going to see if Miss Honeyman is ready.’

Aria was, and she slid her arms around his neck when he entered the cabin. ‘I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you for six months, Nick.’

‘We’ll manage.’ He tipped up her chin and kissed her. ‘Seth is waiting on the quay. I can’t see anyone else.’

On deck the first mate was bellowing out orders and the crew would be scrambling over the rigging like monkeys. Nick held Aria against him. She was trembling. He gave her a last hug. ‘Hold fast. Just remember that Charlotte is your sister. Let her blame me if that’s what she wants, and don’t defend me too much else they’ll smell a rat.’

‘Shall I come up on deck?’

‘No, wait here. I’ll bring Seth down, so he can see the sleeping arrangements for himself.’

She giggled. ‘I hope not. Lor . . . I feel quite debauched by you. Imagine spending my wedding night in a house of ill repute. What an experience! Whatever happens, I’ll never forget it. Shall I record it in my diary when I get home?’

‘Do, but you don’t need to record the memory of you trying to cover yourself with your hands because it will stay in my mind for ever.’ She blushed when he grinned at her.

They nearly fell over as the ship scraped against something. Nick swore. ‘I’d better get up on deck.’ He gazed down at her, suddenly awkward. He hadn’t expected it to be so hard to part with her. Running a finger down her nose he gruffed, ‘We didn’t even say goodbye properly. I’ll miss you.’

‘I’ll be out on the heath tomorrow morning. We could say goodbye then. Can you get there?’

‘I’ll come in the dinghy. Keep a look out for me.’ He turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Seth was relieved to find his sister-in-law relatively unharmed. In her usual uninhibited manner she gave him a hug and chattered on at him.

‘Seth, you’ll never guess where I’ve been . . . all the way to Boston and back . . . thank goodness you guessed where I was. Nick was so kind. He gave me his own cabin to sleep in, and just kept the bit with the door and desk to eat his dinner at. Did he tell you about my shoulder, and about the cut on my head? There was a terrific lot of blood. It had to be stitched up and I fainted dead away.’ She didn’t give him time to answer. ‘We sailed into a horrible storm on the way back and I was absolutely terrified. The waves were as high as a house and everything on the ship creaked and groaned as if it was about to split into pieces. Nick was an awful bully when I was discovered in the hold. He threatened to toss me overboard. Of course, he wouldn’t really have done that.’

‘You’ll never know how close to it you got on occasion,’ Nick said, making her sound like a child he couldn’t wait to get rid of. ‘A ship is no place for a woman.’

Seth exchanged a sympathetic smile with the captain. ‘I’m sorry she was such a nuisance.’

‘I understand you’ve become a father, Hardy. Congratulations.’

Seth felt no undercurrent of rancour in Thornton’s handshake, but trod carefully nevertheless. ‘Under the circumstances, that’s kind of you.’

‘Under the circumstances it’s a waste of time crying over spilled milk. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be friends.’

Seth’s eyes missed nothing in the cabin arrangements, and he saw nothing suspicious. Thornton had simply divided the cabin roughly in half with a canvas wall, to afford Marianne some privacy. It wasn’t ideal, but he didn’t see anything that roused his suspicions under the circumstances. But had to ask. ‘Where did you sleep?’

‘I turned and turned about with the first mate. I can send for him if you like.’

Seth shrugged. ‘I promised Charlotte I’d talk to you, Nick. Do you have the time?’

‘Not at the moment. I have cargo to unload, and must pay the crew so they can go ashore. You must allow me to buy you a drink. How about the day after tomorrow in the Crown and Anchor shortly after noon? We can discuss what’s on your mind then?’

Seth nodded. ‘See you there.’

Marianne cut in. ‘How are the babies, Seth? I expect they’re grown.’

He couldn’t hide his smile. ‘They’re a contented pair, and they’re smiling now.’

‘And John?’

‘He’s missed you, and will be glad to see you back.’

‘I bought him a present in Boston to make up for it. It’s a replica of a clipper ship. Oh, yes . . . I’ve just remembered that I had to borrow some money from Nick. I needed something to wear. And I owe him for a new set of clothes he had to buy the cabin boy, since I was forced to borrow his Sunday best trousers and a shirt.’

‘You wore trousers?’

‘My gown got all bloody from the cut on my head, and none of the seamen wore female clothing that I could borrow. Then when we got to Boston Nick bought me—’

‘You needn’t explain any further,’ he said with a grin. ‘Tell me about it on the way home, and I’ll settle up with Captain Thornton tomorrow.’

His sister-in-law picked up her basket, then her parcel of clothes, which she handed to him to carry along with the model ship. She turned to Nick. ‘Thank you so much for your excellent care of me, Captain Thornton, and thank Sam for looking after me.’

There was a gleam in his dark eyes. ‘It was my pleasure to be of service to you, Aria. Be careful where you tread on the way out. The deck will be littered with ropes.’

Various members of the crew waved and called out to her as she left.

Seth said, ‘Why did Nick Thornton call you Aria?’

‘It’s the middle part of my name. He’s always called me that. He’s the only one who does.’

‘You like him, don’t you?’

‘Yes, I’ve always liked him. Nick is honest and straightforward.’ When he wasn’t being devious and bossy, and totally adorable she thought, and grinned.

L
ying to Charlotte the next morning was harder than Marianne had expected. Charlotte wanted to know every little detail, so Marianne stuck to answering the questions and avoiding the truth.

‘I told you. I went on board to take his length of silk back. I was looking at the seagull on top of the mast and I tripped and fell into the hold and was rendered unconscious.’

‘You were on top of the mast?’

She would have been if Nick had allowed her to go up there when they were in Boston, but he’d given her a quelling look and put his foot down with, ‘Definitely not.’

She grinned. ‘I was on deck with my face tipped up and fell backwards. When I woke we were at sea. My arm had been jerked right out of its socket. It hurt something cruel, and the ship’s cook held me down, while Nick jerked it back in. The pain of it made me cry, and Nick was sorry he’d hurt me, but he said that was the only way it could be done.’

Charlotte shuddered. ‘Why didn’t Nick bring you back?’

‘I wasn’t found until we’d been at sea for two days. He said it was too much bother, and would cost him money.’

Charlotte frowned. ‘He would have done that on purpose, just to make me worry.’

Marianne had wondered about that herself, since four days out of his life surely couldn’t have cost the shipping company much. But it didn’t seem to matter now, and she felt compelled to defend him. ‘Nick isn’t as mean as you make him out to be. In fact, he was very kind to me.’

‘Oh . . . you don’t really know him, Marianne. He was my friend, not yours. He always considered you to be a nuisance because I had to look after you, which meant that we couldn’t go where we wanted, or do what we wanted.’

Marianne knew him better than Charlotte would ever imagine, and she churned with longing for him.

‘Where did you get the silk from?’

‘Nick bought it for you, to make a wedding gown with. He had it with him on that day. When you sent him packing he dropped it.

Charlotte smiled at the thought. ‘Poor Nick, but it was his own fault. That was ages ago. And you had it all this time without telling me?’

‘I didn’t think you’d want it. He told me to keep it when I tried to give it back.’

‘It was meant for me in the first place. I can use it to make some garments for the babies.’

Marianne gasped. ‘It’s expensive silk.’

‘I don’t care. Obviously he doesn’t want it back.’

‘But Nick gave it to me.’

‘It was mine first, besides, what do you want it for? Where is it, in your room?’ She rose. ‘It’s time my babies were fed anyway. You can come up with me if you like.’

‘I’ll see them later. I’m going out on the heath. I’ve missed it so.’

‘Wear something warm, then. There’s a cold wind coming off the water.’

Earlier she’d packed a basket with food, and there was ginger beer in an earthenware bottle.

Marianne gazed out over the harbour, looking for a dinghy as she hurried along the path. The wind whipped colour into her cheeks and her hair unravelled. After several weeks at sea, at first the ground seemed to rise up to meet her feet, but now it was solid beneath them.

There were one or two small sailboats on the harbour, their sails fattened with wind as they skimmed over the dagger-edged white-crested wavelets. The clouds momentarily thinned out to expose a sun flash from a shiny surface. Nick’s telescope perhaps?

She waved just in case, taking the precaution to look behind her first to make sure she hadn’t been observed. But she’d left the house behind her. All she could see was part of the roof and the chimney tops, the fiery dragon’s breath of smoke they exhaled being whipped by the wind and shredded in all directions. Harbour House didn’t feel like her home any more. It belonged to Seth and Charlotte and their children.

But then, it had always belonged to Charlotte. The house was her sister’s security, and she loved the place with a passion – loved it enough to have sold herself to a complete stranger and break the heart of the man who’d loved her constantly since childhood. And despite Charlotte’s denials, Marianne knew that her sister would have taken Nick as a last resort.

But Charlotte’s loss had been her gain. Marianne wanted nothing more than to make her home with Nick, wherever that home might be, tossed about on the stormy sea or nestled in the dusty back room of a shop while he made a success of his life in business ashore.

She began to run along the winding path as the boat began to veer towards the shore, the small company pennant at the mast fluttering. Up ahead was a small inlet that the boat was heading for. They reached the inlet together and he ran the boat up on to the sand, tied the sail against the mast, then attached the dinghy to a gorse bush, which clutched the chalky heath soil with a firm grip. Placing her basket down Marianne hurled herself into his arms, out of breath and laughing, and he held her against his warmth, swung her around, then set her on her feet and soundly kissed her.

She kissed him back as though she hadn’t seen him for weeks, and realized how hard the next few days would be. She hugged him, loath to let him go. ‘Have you absolutely got to go away?’

‘Yes . . . I must. My uncle has been like a father to me. I can’t just walk away from him. The time will soon pass, my love. Then we’ll be together.’

Her heart leapt at the unconsciously uttered endearment. She was like a bird, pecking up crumbs of scattered affections and gaining sustenance from them.

When she gazed up at him Marianne knew that she’d fallen in love with him, and a smile touched her lips. She’d give him that thought to take with him. She’d brought it with her, a locket brooch – a miniature of herself as a child of six. It had been a birthday gift, gifted to her by her mother a few weeks before her death. At the back, curled round under the glass was a snip of Marianne’s hair. When the locket was opened an inscription was found inside: her name etched on one side and the words ‘dearly beloved’ on the other.

She pinned the locket inside his waistcoat pocket and said, ‘There, that’s a keepsake to remember me by.’

Through the flying strands of her hair he found her scalp and nuzzled a kiss there. ‘You’re impossible to forget, angel.’

Another crumb, reinforcing the last one. She needed him to love her, but how much time that would take she couldn’t even hazard a guess. In the meantime she’d feast on the crumbs he scattered and gain strength from them until she could have the whole cake.

‘Let’s go up to the copse. It’s more sheltered there, and I’ve brought us something to eat,’ she said.

‘Good . . . I could eat a skinned cat.’

‘I’m afraid I haven’t got a cat. There’s some cold chicken and ham, boiled potatoes, bread, cheese and apple pie. And there’s fresh water in the chalk stream to wash it down with.’

Her ear was rewarded with his chuckle whispered against it. ‘It sounds like a feast.’ Picking up the basket he took her hand in his and they headed for the privacy of the copse.

It was dark under the canopy of pines, and the ground was thick with rusty coloured needles, so their footsteps were absorbed into the silence and left no mark on the forest floor. The bracken was brown and ragged, its roots settling into the long sleep until spring, when it would stir to the sun and unfurl triumphant.

They settled where the undergrowth was thickest, not far from the stream, and they talked and ate. Then when they had finished talking they made love, oblivious to anything but the moment. Afterwards she laid her head against his heart and listened to it beat while he stroked her hair. Then when their tumultuous bodies were once again quiet, he braided her hair again, his fingers flying as he wove the strands in and out.

‘There, you’re tidy again,’ he said, then stood and pulled her to her feet. ‘Now I must go, before the tide leaves me stranded.’

‘Will I see you again before you go?’

‘We shouldn’t risk it if we’re to keep things quiet. The
Daisy Jane
is on the horizon and I have an appointment with your brother-in-law.’

‘Go now and leave me here, because I don’t think I can bear to watch you sail away.’

He didn’t laugh, though his eyes told her he wanted to, and his mouth fought the tendency to smile. She supposed it was a rather melodramatic statement at that, and she giggled. ‘I feel very furtive meeting you in secret.’