The Daughters of Eden Trilogy: The Shadow Catcher, Fever Hill & the Serpent's Tooth (134 page)

Belle surprised herself by saying yes. She couldn’t face a day alone in the house, wondering what she’d done wrong.

As the weather was fine, they took the dog cart instead of the carriage, and as they trotted along the coast road she looked about her at the glittering sea and the rich green pastures which came right down to the beach; at the sleek red cattle and the white terns mewing overhead, and the gentle heather-clad hills. The charm of Cairngowrie had crept up on her unawares. She didn’t ever want to leave.

She glanced at Maud, who sat beside her, showing Max how to hold the reins. Over the weeks, the older woman’s face seemed to have softened. She didn’t tighten her lips so much, and although she rarely smiled there was a light in her grey eyes now and then, particularly when she looked at Max, or spoke to Adam.

Max, too, had visibly changed. He’d filled out a little, and was becoming talkative; and he no longer gulped. His love for Julia was undimmed, and he spent every available moment in the kitchen at Cairngowrie House, ‘sitting still as a stone,’ as Maud told Belle, ‘determined to win her trust. And I’ve no doubt that he will. He’s got the patience. And the determination.’

Belle felt a wave of love for them both. I don’t ever want to leave you, she told them silently. And I don’t ever want to leave Adam.

Why
had he changed? What does it mean?

Maud felt herself observed, and turned her head. ‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ said Belle. ‘Actually, no, I want to ask you something. It’s about Adam.’

Maud’s face went still.

‘The past few days, he’s been different. Withdrawn.’

‘He’s done that since he was a boy,’ said Maud.

‘But I get the feeling,’ said Belle, ‘that it’s something I’ve done.’

Maud turned back to Max. ‘Don’t tug on the reins. Just enough to feel the pony’s mouth. That’s it.’ With her eyes still on the boy, she said to Belle, ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about that.’

‘Then why do I feel that he’s avoiding me?’

Maud hesitated. ‘Adam has a lot on his mind. A lot of responsibilities.’

‘I know, but—’

‘No,’ said Maud with startling firmness. ‘No, I don’t think I can talk to you about Adam. I’m sorry, but there it is.’

‘Maud, please—’

‘I’m sorry, Belle.’ She softened that with one of her rare smiles. ‘I like you, and I want things to go well for you. But I cannot – I cannot get involved in this. No, that’s more than I can do.’

They were approaching the outskirts of Stranraer, and Max was exclaiming with delight at the sight of some fishermen digging for lugworms on the flats. There was no more time for talk.

The outing was a success. Max loved every minute of it. He loved it when the big steamer set off for Ireland from the New Pier; he loved it when a fishing boat came in from the foreshore with a cargo of oysters. He loved the vanilla ice which Maud bought for him at the kiosk on Harbour Street, and he insisted on reading aloud the legend stamped on the stone bottle of ginger beer which Belle bought him to wash down the ice:
Drink Fedele Bonugli’s High-Class Ginger Beer, Stranraer
. Belle enjoyed his enjoyment, and for a while she almost forgot about Adam. The worry returned as soon as they started for home.

Maud got out with Max at Cairngowrie House, as they hadn’t yet paid the daily visit to Julia, and Belle drove on alone to the Hall. She arrived in time to catch Drum, who was on the point of leaving.

‘I came to say goodbye,’ he told her as they walked in the grounds.

Belle threw him a surprised glance. ‘Goodbye? Where are you going?’

He pulled down his mouth in a mock grimace. ‘Where do misfits usually end up? The colonies, dear girl.’

‘You’re leaving the country? But – isn’t that a little extreme?’

He shook his head. ‘Best thing for me. In fact, I’m looking forward to it. Fresh start. New faces. It’s what I need.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘Ah, now, I think you’ll approve of that. Adam’s helped me find a position on his great-aunt’s estate.’

Belle stopped. ‘You’re going to Jamaica?’

He grinned. ‘I shall be a sugar planter, like your papa. Do you think I’ll be any good?’

She was too astonished to speak. Astonished, and oddly disturbed. ‘Of course you will,’ she said at last. ‘It’s just – well, to be honest, I’m jealous.’

He laughed. ‘Well, then you shall have to come out and see me, very soon.’

She swallowed. ‘I don’t think I shall be doing that for a while. I haven’t been back for years.’

‘Oh. Oh dear. Not trouble at home?’

She hesitated. ‘Sort of.’

He seemed to sense that there was more to it than she wanted to talk about, for he gave her shoulder an awkward little pat. ‘Bad luck, old girl. But maybe – it’s none of my business, I know, but maybe you should just
think
about coming out? Might do you some good. You’re looking a little . . . well, down.’

She did not reply. She’d been thinking about going back ever since East Street. She’d had daydreams about introducing Adam to her father. She could see how it would be in every detail. They were on the verandah overlooking the cane-pieces: Papa and Mamma, and herself and Adam, standing at the balustrade among the tree-ferns and the bougainvillea, laughing at the twins playing on the lawn with the dogs.

You’re such a
fool
, she told herself savagely. Why even think about it? It’s never going to happen.

‘I hear old Ma Palairet’s a bit of a dragon,’ said Drum, dragging her back to reality.

‘Old Louisa?’ she said with an effort. ‘She wants to be, but she isn’t really. Unlike my Great-Aunt May, who really is a dragon, and best avoided.’ She paused. ‘I’ll write to my people and tell them you’re coming. They’ll like you. And I think you’ll like them.’

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I’m sure I shall.’

They walked on in silence. Then she said, ‘Have you seen much of Adam, these days?’ She’d tried to speak lightly, and was annoyed to hear the tension in her voice.

‘Now and then,’ he replied.

‘Drum, what’s the matter with him?’

He threw her a curious look.‘I don’t know. I thought you’d know. I thought – well. I thought he was fond of you.’

‘So did I,’ she said.

That evening, Belle made a special effort. She wore a gown that Adam hadn’t seen before, of deep purple satin which made her feel sophisticated and ready for anything. She knew it was a success because he didn’t look at her once when they met for drinks before dinner.

Luckily, Maud was in a talkative mood, and didn’t seem to notice that Belle hardly said a word. ‘I’m letting Max come down and say goodnight,’ she told Adam. ‘It’s a reward for persistence. Julia let him stroke her wing this afternoon.’

Adam handed her her sherry, then returned to the side table to top up his whisky. ‘I wouldn’t let him get too attached,’ he said quietly.

Maud paused with her glass halfway to her lips. ‘Why not? A boy ought to get used to being with animals. It’s—’

‘That’s true,’ said Adam, ‘but he’ll only get upset when he leaves.’

Belle and Maud exchanged startled glances.

‘What are you talking about?’ said Belle.

Maud put down her glass on the side table. ‘Why should he leave?’

‘He can’t stay here for ever,’ said Adam. He went to the chimney-piece and stood looking down at the fire. ‘I had a letter from his father’s sister.’

Maud put her hand to her cheek.

‘She used to live in Lübeck,’ Adam went on, ‘but now she’s settled in Somerset. Married to an attorney. They seem decent people, and they’ve two boys of their own. If we can sort it out with the lawyers, they’re willing to take him.’

‘I should imagine they are,’ Belle said drily. ‘Exactly how much
is
Max worth these days?’

‘That has nothing to do with it,’ said Adam over his shoulder. ‘All the assets are in trust till he’s twenty-one; no-one can get at them. Sibella saw to that.’

‘But . . .’ began Maud. ‘He can’t leave now.’

‘Sooner or later,’ said Adam, ‘he’ll have to. It’s either Somerset or boarding school.’

‘
Boarding school?
’ cried Belle and Maud together.

‘But – Adam,’ said Maud, her voice shaking with emotion, ‘boarding school is the very last thing that child needs.’

‘Maud’s right,’ said Belle. ‘He’s just finding his confidence. If he went now it’d be disastrous. The other boys would eat him alive.’

‘I don’t agree,’ said Adam. He ran his hand over the chimney-piece. ‘School would toughen him up.’

‘You don’t seriously believe that,’ said Belle. ‘Adam, what’s this about? Why—’

The door opened, and in came Nelly with Max. He was shiny-faced from his bath, and clutching a book to his dressing gown. Belle noticed that
Deeds of Pluck and Daring
had given way to
Langley’s Illustrated Birds of Scotland
.

Maud saw her looking at it. ‘It was Adam’s when he was a boy,’ she explained. Then she turned to Adam and said stiffly, ‘I take it that you’ve no objection to his having it?’

He opened his mouth to speak, but then thought better of it.

Max approached him with a shy smile. ‘Look, Captain Palairet.’ He’d been keeping his place with his finger, and now he opened the book at an engraving of a small brown bird sitting on a rock. ‘I saw one just like it this afternoon, sitting on a rock
in exactly the same way
.’

Belle looked at Adam over Max’s head. ‘Adam, you can’t—’

‘Now is not the time,’ he cut in.

‘Captain Palairet,’ said Max, frowning at the engraving. ‘When you were my age, what was your favourite bird?’

‘It’d be the worst thing possible,’ said Belle. ‘Surely you couldn’t—’

‘Was it a cormorant, like Miss McAllister’s?’

‘I’m being realistic,’ said Adam between his teeth.

‘Captain Palairet—’

‘
What?
’ snapped Adam.

There was a shocked silence.

Very carefully, Max closed the book and hugged it to his chest. His shoulders crept up round his ears.

‘Don’t take on, now, Max,’ said Miss McAllister. ‘Captain Palairet’s merely tired. Come along, let’s go upstairs.’

But Max didn’t move. He drew a deep breath which ended in a gulp. ‘Is it not all right that I have the book?’ he whispered. ‘Do you want me to give it back, sir?’

Adam rubbed his temple. ‘Of course it’s all right,’ he said. ‘Now take the book and just – go along to bed.’

‘That,’ said Belle, ‘was unforgivable.’

Adam did not reply.

She’d come downstairs and found him standing at the drawing-room window with his hands in his pockets and a half-full tumbler of whisky beside him on the window sill.

‘To snap like that without reason,’ she said. ‘You know how he worships you—’

‘Aren’t you making a fuss over nothing?’ he said without turning his head.

‘It isn’t nothing to Max. I went to say goodnight to him just now. Do you know what he said? He said he quite understands that he oughtn’t to keep the book, because you’re a soldier and brave, and he’s not . . .’ She swallowed. ‘Adam, don’t you see? You mean so much to him—’

‘So shoot me,’ Adam said brusquely. He turned to face her, and she felt a flicker of alarm. ‘Well, now you know,’ he said. ‘I drink too much, and I snap at children. Not quite the paragon you seemed to think I am.’

‘I didn’t think you were a paragon,’ she said. ‘But I did think that you—’

‘I cannot be a father to that boy,’ he said with such violence that she took a step back. ‘I cannot
love
him. I cannot – love anyone.’

As he said it, he met her eyes. Then he turned and reached for his glass.

In the fireplace an ember cracked.

Adam flinched.

Belle didn’t move.

‘I think . . .’ she said at last, ‘I think I understand.’

He did not reply.

‘How stupid of me,’ she said. ‘I was beginning to think that you— Well. That you might be starting to— But you’ve made it very clear. You can’t love anyone. My mistake.’

Still he said nothing. He simply stood there, staring down at his glass.

‘But please,’ she said. ‘Just because I’ve made a mistake, don’t take it out on Max.’

Somehow she managed to turn and walk away, and get out into the chill gloom of the hall.

He didn’t come after her, and he didn’t call her back.

The next morning, Maud took a subdued and silent Max down to the House. Adam worked in his study. Belle stayed in her room, packing.

No more prevarication. No more deluding herself. For whatever reason, Adam had reached a decision about her. He didn’t love her. So it would be best for everyone if she left.

Maud and Max did not return for luncheon, and Belle couldn’t face going downstairs on her own. Adam didn’t send to ask if she wanted a tray, which was just as well. There was a knot in her stomach. She couldn’t have eaten a thing.

Around four, she heard a door slam, and urgent voices in the hall. She went to the top of the stairs and leaned over the balustrade.

Maud and Adam stood facing one another in the hall. Plainly, Adam had just come out from his study, and Maud had run in from outside. She was hatless and out of breath, her shoes and stockings spattered with mud. She looked as if she’d run all the way from the House. ‘Oh God,’ she gasped, ‘Oh God oh God—

‘What’s happened?’ said Adam, taking her elbow and leading her to a chair. ‘Is it—’

‘That
stupid
girl!’ Maud burst out. She slumped onto the chair and gripped the sides with both hands. ‘I
told
her never to leave the door open—’

‘What girl?’ said Adam.

‘Susan!’ cried Maud. ‘Stupid, wretched, stupid—’

‘Maud,’ said Adam, ‘what are you talking about?’

Maud clutched his arm. ‘I couldn’t
find
them,’ she said. ‘I followed the tracks in the sand towards the Point and then – then I lost them. And the tide’s coming in, and – I couldn’t – I couldn’t
find
them!’

‘Find who?’ said Belle.

Adam glanced up and met her eyes.

‘Julia’s gone,’ said Maud. ‘And so is Max.’