Different Tides Page 7

  Of one thing Zachariah was certain: Gabe would not have allowed his children to travel with a couple who would treat them badly, since he’d doted on the boy.

  It was by luck rather than design that Zachariah had found the key to unlock Edward’s tongue. When Clementine had congratulated him over using the dog he’d accepted the praise as his due.

  He spoke her name softly, tasting it on his tongue and allowing it to drift away on the soft breeze. ‘Clementine …’

  He smiled. She was no respecter of his feelings or his position in life, and although she made him uncomfortable at times, there was nothing false about her. He liked her; perhaps liked her too much – in fact he was acquiring a strong affection for her, which was an unexpected and not altogether pleasing development.

  The week before had been a case in point. He’d gone up to the nursery on a whim when Polly had been eating her evening meal. Iris had been already asleep. Edward was leaning against Clementine’s shoulder as she sang him a lullaby, her fingers gently caressing his scalp.

  Zachariah had backed away without being noticed when she’d lowered the boy to the pillow and kissed his cheek. Warmth, longing and envy had churned inside him for something he’d never experienced.

  He remembered those same beds, occupied by two boys. He remembered the goodnight kisses … but not for him. His shyness had been interpreted as sullenness, and he’d become brash to attract the attention he coveted. All Zachariah had wanted was to be as loved as his older brother – a brother he’d worshipped.

  His immaturity had not allowed him to see the shallowness of his sibling hero, or the manipulation Gabe employed – not until later. His father had been a braggart, and had barely noticed him. His mother had called him a graceless lout. His father had barely been cold in his grave when Zachariah had been sent away from home. It had been the ultimate betrayal.

  His mind snapped back to the present. His mother would never have held him in comfort against her like Clementine held Edward. He knew then that he’d made the right choice by employing her, relative or not, though it had been instinct at the time.

  He headed up the incline towards the house. There was a task he must undertake before he left. He must inspect the contents of Gabe and Alice’s trunks, and store anything of value in a secure place for the children to have when they were older.

  He handed his horse over to the stable hand, then went in to see Stephen. ‘We’ll be leaving for London in a week. Evan can take the stage a day or so earlier. I’ll leave Ben here with the carriage and the grey for the use of Miss Morris and the children. We’ll saddle up the carriage horses.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  He went up to the master bedroom. It was clean and tidy. The cupboards were empty and impersonal. It was a splendid room with woven red and gold hangings and a painted ceiling. The bed could have accommodated six people and the room had a view over the fields. He’d never been able to bring himself to move in there.

  When he opened the trunks his nostrils were assailed by a musty stale smell. There was a jumble of clothing, mostly dirty. He recognized one of Alice’s gowns, almost rags now. She’d been such a clean and dainty woman. It had been too bad of Gabe to bring her down this low with his excesses. There was a gold-set brooch pinned to the bodice in the shape of a posy of flowers, and fashioned from red stones with pearl centres and enamelled leaves.

  He removed it and set it on the dressing table. That would be kept for Iris to wear when she was a little older, along with any other feminine trinkets. He must remember to look in every pocket for valuables, but if Gabe had been impoverished he would have gambled away anything of value, or sold them. The smaller trunk contained some books, letters and writing implements.

  He felt furtive going through his brother’s belongings, and rather grubby. These trunks contained the sum of his brother’s life. They contained very little of value to bequeath to the family he’d begotten. In fact, they reeked of failure.

  He sensed someone was watching him, and the long mirror offered him a reflection of Edward peering around the door. Zachariah smiled and said, ‘Come in and join me, Edward. Is anyone looking after Iris?’

  He nodded. ‘Polly is. Wolf wandered off and Miss Clemmie and I went to look for him. She went down to the kitchen to see if he was there. She said the cook feeds him too many scraps and he’ll get fat and won’t be able to chase the rabbits away from the vegetable garden.’

  ‘She’s right.’

  ‘I heard a noise and thought …’

  ‘That I was your father?’ Zachariah smiled at him. ‘It’s all right for you to think that, and to talk about him. Sometimes I wish I were him.’

  Edward opened his mouth then shut it again when Zachariah patted the bed. ‘Some of his personal things are in this small trunk. Climb up on the bed. You can sort it out if you like. Put aside anything you want to keep for yourself and for Iris when you grow up, but not clothing because it’s dirty and old and I’m going to burn it.’

  Edward scrambled on to the feather mattress. ‘Papa was going to buy our mother a new gown when he got some money. He said it would be made of silk and he’d build us a big house with a ballroom, and the governor would dance with her and she’d look so pretty that he’d be the proudest man in the world.’

  Zachariah’s throat constricted and he pulled the boy to his side in a quick hug. He was well aware of Gabe’s love for his wife, and for that alone he envied him. Gabe’s superficial charm and his hopes and dreams would have amounted to nothing though, and in the end he would have disillusioned his son. ‘Your mother was a lovely lady.’

  ‘Iris climbed on a chair and scribbled whiskers on their picture, then she fell off the chair and bumped her head. Polly is trying to wash the scribble off.’

  ‘What about Iris, is she hurt?’

  ‘Miss Clemmie kissed her better.’

  It sounded like a good deal to Zachariah.

  ‘Why did Iris scribble on the picture? We must look after that painting because it’s the only image we have of your parents.’

  ‘Iris was upset. She said the picture doesn’t look like them.’

  ‘And what do you think about that, Edward?’

  He shrugged. ‘I don’t think so too, but sometimes it does. Miss Clemmie says it’s because I’m trying to forget what happened, and that’s all right.’

  ‘Would you like me to move the portrait? There’s a space in the dining room.’

  He nodded. ‘I don’t like looking at it. Sometimes I think Miss Clemmie is our mother, especially when she hugs me. Miss Clemmie’s eyes are brown and shiny … like Wolf’s eyes when he sees his dinner. Hers are pretty, but Wolf looks fiercer.’

  Zachariah tried not to laugh. As compliments went, it was well observed. ‘Her eyes certainly are pretty,’ he said and then he changed the subject. He didn’t want to think about Clementine with her shiny eyes, else he’d think about her all day.

  ‘Here’s a ring with the family crest on that used to belong to your great-grandfather. It won’t fit you until you are older so we’ll put it in that box on the dressing chest. You can come and look at it any time you want to. There are a few small pieces of jewellery that belonged to your mother, as well. Iris can have them when she grows into a young lady.’

  Edward dipped into the trunk. ‘Here’s a spyglass. It’s got my papa’s name on it.’ He pulled it from the case.

  ‘He’d want you to have it now, not wait until you’re grown up. It looks as though it needs a good clean because the leather case is going mouldy. I imagine Ben will help you with it. He knows how to clean brass and leather.’

  Edward looked down at the telescope in his hands. ‘You can see a long way into the distance with it. Papa and me used to watch the kangaroos.’

  ‘I’ve never seen a kangaroo. What does it look like?’

  ‘A big rabbit, bigger than Papa even. It has a long tail and short front legs. Papa said it uses its tail to stop itself from falling over … it has a pouc
h at the front where the baby kangaroos sleep.’ He moved to the window and placed the telescope against his eye, screwing the other one up. ‘There’s Miss Clemmie. The wind is blowing her hair about.’

  Zachariah joined the boy and physically stopped himself from snatching the instrument from Edward’s hands so he could get a closer look. He smiled when he saw her in the meadow. Clementine had no right to look so charming when her hair was flying about like a tail on a horse in a gale. When she picked Wolf up he stretched up to lick her face and she screwed up her mouth and her eyes and shuddered.

  Both he and Edward laughed, though Zachariah couldn’t help but wonder what she tasted like.

  ‘Edward, I’ve found him,’ she called out softly as she came up the stairs a few moments later. ‘Where are you?’

  Zachariah gave Edward time to scramble back on to the bed before he answered for the boy. ‘We’re in here.’

  She appeared in the doorway and Wolf began to yelp when he saw Edward.

  Zachariah smiled. If she’d been his wife she’d have a maid to take care of such matters as wind-blown hair, so as to delight him with her appearance. If she’d been his wife! He scotched that thought. He liked her as she was, completely natural, lacking in artifice and … unmarried! ‘The wind has unravelled you.’

  Her free hand went to her head and she laughed, unconcerned. ‘So it has. Is Edward being of help?’

  He took a moment to imagine that length of hair in his hands, flowing through his fingers like a river of amber silk … to imagine her face turned up to his, her eyes wide, her expression a cross between expectation and alarm at what the outcome might be. He felt the strength of his manliness in his reaction to her presence … but whether it was strength or weakness he couldn’t afford to indulge it … not here. And he couldn’t even betray what he was thinking. She’d walked away from other employers for lesser reasons.

  ‘These are his father and mother’s trunks.’

  Edward gazed up at her, his eyes bright and pleading. His features were lean, like those of a miniature greyhound, for his body had only just begun to display a small amount of childhood plumpness. Both he and Iris had regained energy quickly as their illness came to a conclusion, but Clementine made them rest every afternoon so they didn’t tire themselves out.

  ‘May I stay with Uncle Zachariah?’

  ‘If he doesn’t mind, though he looks to be busy.’

  Zachariah smiled at the boy, not wanting to disappoint him. ‘Edward is no trouble. Besides, I’ve nearly finished. It’s a task I should have done earlier. I’ll bring him back to the nursery in time for tea, I promise.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d care to join us, Zachariah? I can ask the cook to send up some extra muffins.’

  ‘Thank you, Miss Clemmie, I promise to be on my best behaviour.’

  A smile winged his way before she left, taking the dog with her. Picking up some crumpled and smudged pages with writing on he left the small trunk for Edward to explore by himself, while he went to the window to examine the papers.

  There was a letter addressed to him in Gabe’s handwriting, dated six months before.

  My esteemed brother, Zachariah

  My life is in ruins. I am up to my ears in debt.

  I have arranged for my beloved children to return to England at the end of the spring. They will be supervised on the journey by a married couple called George and Sarah Sheridan, who we met when we were prospecting for gold.

  George is a lawyer. Although I haven’t known them very long, I’m convinced they are trustworthy. You will recognize Sarah by the colour of her hair, which is russet. I have assured them you will cover my IOUs and process several expenses on my behalf.

  This, I know you will do. You are the only person I’ve ever been able to trust, Zach, and you don’t have it in you to leave my children in need.

  They set sail in two weeks’ time. I have already sent an account of my debts to your lawyer and friend John Beck. I beg that you honour them on my behalf. As always, Alice stands by me. Until we have made enough money to return home and run Martingale as it should be run. I’ve discovered a small amount of gold and am hopeful that more will be forthcoming. I’m determined to turn over a new leaf.

  There were no new leaves for Gabe to turn over. Gabe had forgotten that the estate no longer belonged to him by right. Did he really think Zachariah would have paid his debts once more, and then hand the estate back to him to bankrupt all over again? Anger flickered through him, and then he grimaced. It didn’t really matter now, since Alice and Gabe must have died not long after he’d written this letter, and certainly before he’d had time to post it.

  I implore you to care for my children as you would if they were your own, my dear brother, since nothing is their fault. Love them if you can, though I know your nature is dispassionate. At the very least treat them kindly until Alice and I can hold them in our arms once again.

  Your brother,

  Sir Gabriel Fleet Bt.

  The addition of the formal title was a reminder to Zachariah that Gabe took precedence, and at the time he wrote the letter he expected the estate to be returned to him, as part of the family property attached to the title. Gabe’s intentions were always thwarted by his inability to carry them out, since he was inherently lazy. But Zachariah’s brother had always been a master of manipulation.

  Zachariah’s glance fell on Edward and he experienced warmth in the region of his heart. He hoped Edward didn’t take after Gabe in that way. As for himself, Zachariah considered, was he as dispassionate as Gabe had suggested? He thought not. He just seemed to lack the ability to allow his emotions to express themselves fully.

  Self-controlled, Clementine had called him, which wasn’t a bad thing to be. He smiled, thinking she knew damned little about men, and that any control they might possess depended entirely on the circumstances. He did know he was thinking about Clementine more and more. She was an attractive creature, even if she did have a sharp edge to her tongue, and he was a healthy man who appreciated the flirt of her skirt and the whisper of female fragrance she left in her wake. And thereupon lay the danger. Laughter huffed from him. He was loath to label such appreciations as love. It was simply a bodily reaction.

  Edward looked up at his laughter. The box was almost empty and he was surrounded by a heap of bits and pieces. Here was Gabe’s pocket watch, stopped at four-thirty, the silver case with its crest tarnished. He ran his thumb over the face. Was that the time Gabe had entered the water to rescue Alice?

  Because their meeting with the Sheridans was acrimonious he hadn’t asked them where Gabe and Alice had been interred. It must have been quite a flood to sweep him away, because Gabe had been a strong swimmer when they’d been boys. Zachariah wondered where his brother’s pistols were. In a pawnbroker’s establishment along with any jewels Alice had owned, he imagined, as they had been on several occasions.

  Perhaps he should ask another male’s advice about love. ‘Can you remember what love feels like, Edward?’

  The boy thought for a moment and nodded. ‘It makes you laugh as though somebody is tickling your stomach. And it feels like being thrown in the air and being caught by my papa. Sometimes it feels like Miss Clemmie when she strokes my head and kisses my cheek and I pretend to be asleep.’

  Now Edward had found his voice he was growing increasingly eloquent. Despite his young age he was obviously a typical male, one who would instinctively feign an action to court a woman’s favour. The thought of tickling Clementine’s stomach was highly appealing, but throwing her up in the air wouldn’t be at all dignified, especially if he dropped her. As for pretending to sleep with his head against her breast and waiting for a kiss … ‘You like Miss Clemmie, don’t you?’

  Edward smiled and nodded.

  ‘So do I. We’d better go and get our tea before she comes looking for us.’ As he pulled the boy up he tossed him in the air. Edward screamed with laughter as he landed safely back in Zachariah’s arms, then he began to gi
ggle. Hoisting him on to his back, Zachariah set off at a slow gallop for the nursery with Edward clinging precariously to his back.

  ‘Giddy-up, horse,’ Edward shouted.

  ‘Hang on tight,’ Zachariah warned as they headed along a corridor and up two flights of stairs.

  An alarmed Clementine came to the door with Iris clinging to her skirt and her hand to her heart. ‘I heard Edward call out.’

  He lowered the giggling boy to the floor. ‘We were indulging in a little horseplay.’

  ‘Horses is it? No wonder you’re both late.’ She pursed her lips and sighed with a faked exasperation that didn’t fool either of them. Iris followed suit, the action of such a diminutive female making him grin. Obviously children learned by copying their elders. He reminded himself not to cuss when he was around them.

  Lord … if Gabe and Alice knew that their daughter was going to be raised by such an independently minded female as Clementine, they would turn in their graves. Although the pair of them had been scatterbrains, they’d given every indication of being more conventional in their ways than Zachariah had ever been.

  ‘Don’t forget to wash your front hooves before you eat,’ Clementine said. ‘The horse trough is behind the curtain.’

  Zachariah sent her an apologetic look when Edward whinnied, loathing to abandon the game. ‘Yes, Miss Clemmie. I’m not usually so childish, you know.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Her eyes were definitely as shiny as Wolf’s, but with a hardly repressed amusement rather than doggy greed.

  Taken aback he stuttered, ‘I have no answer to that, except to remind you that I’m not a child.’

  She smiled. ‘I suspect you never have been a child, and the game with Edward has done you both good. You should be childish more often.’

  ‘It’s not in my nature to be childish.’