Different Tides Read online

  ‘Until, or unless, we are confronted by it, do we ever know what our natures consist of?’

  ‘You’re right; we don’t.’ He smiled. ‘One day you might surprise yourself, Miss Clementine.’

  Caution shimmered around her like a dusty cloud as she appeared to consider the possibilities of his meaning, and then she shrugged. ‘I’d rather not.’

  ‘Don’t you trust yourself?’

  ‘Sometimes I do. At other times I’m not so sure. It rather depends on the situation at the time. What has this got to do with you behaving like a child?’

  ‘Nothing … it was just a diversion. I’ll be going back to London at the end of the week.’

  ‘Oh … I see.’

  ‘Was that dismay in your eyes? Will you miss me?’

  She rallied fast. ‘You’re my employer. It wouldn’t be seemly for me to miss you. The children will, and Edward in particular since he’s still insecure. You’ve stepped into his father’s shoes and he’s attached himself to you. When you leave he might feel abandoned.’

  As Zachariah had felt abandoned on many occasions. He’d survived the parting from his parents and so would Edward. He would have to. But while he understood her concerns, he resented being pressured by the guilt that this snippet of a woman was layering on to him.

  ‘What would you suggest, that I take you all with me? That would make the drawing-room tongues flap.’

  ‘Ah yes … we can’t have that.’

  Was that sarcasm? He mentally stamped on the flicker of ire he experienced. He would not allow her to rile him. Yet the next moment he found himself explaining, when he really had no need to.

  ‘I’m doing the best I can for the children. I can’t promise to be perfect but I will never abandon them. Edward needs to grow up in the home he’ll eventually inherit and learn how the estate is managed.’

  ‘He’s an awfully small boy to take the weight of the estate on his shoulders.’

  ‘It will give him a sense of pride to understand what’s expected of him in the future, and work towards it. He also has to get used to me coming and going. My business doesn’t run itself.’

  ‘Yes, of course. I hadn’t taken that into consideration. I’m sorry, I wasn’t judging you … I just feel sorry for Iris and Edward.’

  ‘You will all have to cope without me, and since you’ve made it clear that missing me is an unseemly trait for a woman to have, it will make it that much easier for you to console the children until I return.’

  ‘You sound awfully pompous at times.’

  Did he?

  He glanced at the portrait. His brother was several shades lighter now Polly had effectively used her scrubbing arm on his face. ‘The last time I saw Gabe that pale colour was when he downed a glass of brandy our father had left on the table. I’ll take the portrait down with me when I go, and see if Mrs Ogden has any ideas. Could be that the canvas just needs a good all-over wash. Perhaps we should arrange some drawing lessons for the girl if she’s going to scribble moustaches on all the ancestors.’

  ‘I’ll talk to her and warn her against such action. They are such a handsome bunch, and it would be a shame to spoil them.’

  He heard her trying to stifle a giggle as her eyes met his. They had a devil of mischief dancing in them. He could have kicked himself for allowing her to get the upper hand, yet he chuckled. ‘If I show signs of becoming an old windbag I’m certain you’ll tell me. Come now, Clementine, let’s join the children at the table before the muffins get cold. I’ll tell them I’m going away while we have tea, so they can get used to the notion, and I’ll caution Iris myself on Gabe’s behalf.’

  The children took the news without too much distress, though Edward said with consternation, ‘Will we have to leave here and go to the orphanage?’

  ‘No … this is your home now. I thought I’d made that clear.’

  ‘For always?’

  ‘For always, Edward, I promise.’

  ‘Even if we’d done something bad?’

  ‘Of course … You’re children. I don’t expect you to be perfectly behaved all of the time.’

  Zachariah exchanged a quizzical glance with Clementine when Edward heaved a sigh of relief and smiled at Iris. He must have been more worried about his sister’s embellishment of the portrait than he’d let on.

  ‘Mr Bolton and Ben will sleep in the male servants’ quarters while I’m away, in case they’re needed,’ he told Clementine.

  ‘It’s so peaceful here; I can’t imagine there being any trouble.’

  ‘I’m not expecting any, but sometimes we have an occasional vagrant knocking at the door who might be the worse for drink. You should feel safer knowing the men are within shouting distance.’

  ‘I’ll shoot them,’ Edward said, suddenly finding some empty courage and a mythical pistol to settle the imagined threat with.

  Zachariah said firmly, ‘You’ll do no such thing, Edward. You’re much too young to handle a firearm. Besides which, you haven’t got a pistol. Mr Bolton and Ben will handle it.’ Fleetingly he wondered again what had happened to Gabe’s firearms.

  Edward opened his mouth and then shut it again before looking down at his hands and saying fiercely, ‘You’ll come back, won’t you, Uncle Zachariah?’

  How transparent the child was in his desperation to have someone to love him – someone constant in his life who he could look up to. Zachariah remembered the feeling so well. But although Zachariah could sympathize, Edward had to toughen up, despite what he’d been through. He remembered the power of bribery. ‘I’ll be back halfway through December, all being well, and I’ll stay until spring. I’ll buy you a pony and when you’ve learned to look after it, then I’ll teach you to ride it.’

  Edward’s eyes began to gleam.

  ‘In the meantime I expect you to train Wolf. He’s your dog and you’re responsible for him, but you mustn’t allow him to think he’s the master. Ben will show you how to go about training him; he’s good with animals. Allow Iris to join in with Happy.’

  ‘Happy is too daft to learn anything. He just rolls on his back and waves his legs in the air when you speak to him.’

  ‘Happy will learn from Wolf’s example, you’ll see.’ Zachariah drizzled some honey on to a muffin and gazed at the pups while he held it ready to eat. ‘You’ll soon learn, won’t you, Wolf? Happy will learn from you?’

  Taking Zachariah’s attention as an invitation, Wolf gave an ungainly leap and snatched the muffin from his hand.

  ‘God’s truth!’ Edward’s piping curse was buried under a deeper one from Zachariah, but which was similar in sentiment.

  Wolf dropped his prize when he stopped to lick the honey from his snout. The morsel was snatched up by Happy, who darted under the table with it and swallowed it in one gulp.

  A moment later the dogs were seated side by side, their wagging tails sweeping the floor, and gazing up at the table through eyes shining with expectation.

  Iris dissolved into loud giggles.

  Clementine pointed a finger at the door. ‘Out!’

  The dogs slunk into the next room where they gazed soulfully at them from under the bed with their eyebrows twitching.

  Clementine laughed. ‘What did you say about teaching dogs manners, Zachariah Fleet?’

  It was a low punch, but there was very little he could retaliate with. ‘Allow me to beg your pardon for my bad language, Miss Clemmie.’ He noted the beginnings of her smile. She’d expect him to set a good example, so he gazed at the boy. ‘Edward?’

  ‘Sorry, Miss Clemmie. It just slipped out of my mouth.’

  ‘Well, next time catch it on your tongue before it does.’ She gazed from one to the other. ‘Apology accepted, gentlemen. Now … let’s get on with tea.’

  Six

  Zachariah intended to leave before dawn. In order to avoid a lengthy, and possibly tearful goodbye from the children, he’d said his farewells to them the night before.

  Iris had been sleepy against his should
er. Circled by Clementine’s arm, Edward’s head lay against her breast as Zachariah told them a story.

  Edward was in just the place Zachariah wouldn’t have minded occupying. He remembered the boy telling him he liked being cuddled and sometimes pretended to be asleep when really he was still awake. He envied him.

  A couple of candles provided light. He was pleased with his choice of staff for the nursery. Polly was competent and pleasant-natured. Clementine came up to his expectations in every way … well, almost. When he finished his story she tucked the children in bed and began to sing them a lullaby.

  The scene filled him with warmth: the low, tuneful voice, the shadows dancing in the firelight and the children’s faces, so innocent and sweet as she kissed them goodnight – it brought a lump to his throat and a feeling that he didn’t want to leave Martingale House and his newly acquired family behind. But leave them he must.

  Polly hadn’t returned from her dinner yet, and Zachariah moved to the window to gaze out into the star-sprinkled darkness. ‘The sky’s pretty, isn’t it? There’s a full moon tonight and it’s just beginning to rise behind the trees. Come and watch it with me,’ he called out.

  Clementine joined him and they watched the glow increase as the moon floated up into the sky, orange at first, then yellow, then bursting with white light that chased away the shadows.

  ‘We should have allowed the children to stay up and watch it.’

  ‘There will be many more for them. I’ll be sorry to leave.’ He took her hand in his. It was a small hand; the palm softer than it had been when they’d first met. He’d expected her to jerk it away, but she didn’t. Clementine Morris surprised him at every turn.

  ‘It won’t be long before you return.’

  The warmth from their bodies filled the space between them, and the gentle curve of her breast was half-hidden now by a sensible country shawl, one that Mrs Ogden had fashioned for her out of a blanket. ‘Is there anything you need bringing from London when I return?’

  ‘I have nothing in London to bring.’

  ‘Except me.’

  She ignored that. ‘I’m contented with what I have.’

  He gently intertwined her fingers with his. It was a sneaky move, and he smiled when she didn’t seem to notice – or if she did, he met with no resistance, which was encouraging.

  Zachariah had never seriously considered the plight of people who didn’t have family to turn to in times of trouble, probably because he’d always been competent at managing for himself, by fair means or foul. But there was a world of difference between men and women, especially if children were involved.

  Though he supported charity, he’d never given the recipients of it much thought except to feel pleasure that he was in a position of being able to provide the needy with a bowl of broth and a roof over their heads. Pleasure? Smug might be a better word. He’d survived worse attacks on his conscience, and sometimes he was too critical. ‘Has this become your home?’

  ‘I’ve always had to make my home where I can. This is the best one so far, but I can’t get too attached to it, for one day it will no longer be mine.’

  ‘Why won’t it?’

  ‘Children grow into adults. The time will come when they don’t need me.’

  ‘Ah … yes. At which time you’ll be firmly settled into spinsterhood.’

  ‘The thought of being a spinster doesn’t bother me since I’ve been one from the day I was born … But the thought of being a spinster without means of support does bother me.’

  ‘I could do something about that, I expect.’

  He couldn’t tell her there might be a legacy from her grandmother, when they weren’t even sure they had the right person. He hoped John had made some progress on that front.

  He could read practically every thought that went through her mind from her expressions. Hope was followed by uncertainty. Did she think he was offering to set her up in a little country house? Would she consider it if he suggested it? It would be the one commodity she had to sell.

  A brief light flickered in her eyes as she seemed to consider the options open to her. Then they narrowed. ‘I daresay you could.’

  Obviously she wasn’t thinking he might wed her. She was thinking the worst. Was he thinking he might wed her? He ran the ball of his thumb gently across her palm, admitting to himself that it had crossed his mind. Would it be so bad to be married to such a lovely woman?

  ‘What are you doing, Zachariah?’ She sounded reproachful rather than angry and a gentle tug parted their hands.

  ‘Good Lord, I was tickling your palm.’ He managed an expression of surprise, one that didn’t fool her for a second, since she pressed her lips together in that way women did when they were exasperated.

  ‘Your pardon, Clementine, my thoughts were elsewhere. I was thinking I could invest some of your salary. You will be earning forty pounds a year, roughly double the average wage. If I invested half of that, in ten years there could be enough to give you the means to buy modest accommodation, and provide you with a small annuity for life. You would be young enough to use it as a dowry should you wish to wed and have children of your own.’

  ‘I don’t see any reason to pay a man to marry me. Let him pay me to marry him.’

  They both laughed at the outrageous suggestion.

  ‘May I think it over?’

  ‘You can. Stephen and I will be leaving early in the morning, so let me know when I return. Will you kiss the children goodbye for me?’

  When she nodded he took her face between his hands and kissed her as tenderly as he knew how. Her mouth was as soft and pliable as a peach, and it positively invited this sort of attention. He was taking a risk, he knew, but it was something he’d longed to do. She might hit him, or she might run away. No matter, he’d simply go after her and bring her back. He looked into her eyes afterwards, shining in the moonlight, and he ran his finger down her nose and smiled.

  She didn’t return the smile, but took in a deep breath. ‘Don’t tell me that was a goodbye kiss for the children,’ she said, sounding underwhelmed by his attention.

  ‘No … it was one for you. You gave every indication of enjoying it.’

  ‘What I felt is immaterial. You took a liberty that was certainly uninvited, and I’ve never been kissed like that before.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘So … yet so … Oh, I don’t know.’

  ‘Intimately personal?’ he suggested, feeling the need to rumple her up a bit.

  ‘Yes … it was unexpected. I should never have allowed it.’

  ‘Have you been kissed before at all?’

  ‘No … yes … no … not willingly, but yes …’

  ‘That’s very clear. I’m sorry … did you not enjoy it then? I could have sworn you liked being kissed. If we tried it again I might be able to improve on it?’

  ‘You’re impossible, Zachariah Fleet,’ she hissed, and to his amusement she stamped her foot. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself.’

  ‘For being a man? Oh, I am. I’m totally ashamed. I’d much rather be a woman.’

  She giggled. ‘You’re a liar!’

  ‘Yes … it’s something I’m good at.’

  Edward made a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and he turned over in his bed.

  Polly signalled her advancement up the stairs with the wavering light of a candle and a heavy tread.

  Clementine turned and walked away from him with a rapid step that made her buttocks twitch.

  Spinster or not, one day he’d kiss every inch of her naked body, including that provocative rear, until she was helpless and quivered from head to toe.

  By bedtime he regretted his action when an obverse thought slapped him on the head and flattened his erotic ramblings. What if Clementine ran away because of his attention?

  Doubt was an impossible bedmate so he tossed the thought aside with a dollop of bravado. What if she did? He could soon get someone else.

  But would that someone e
lse be as perfect as Clementine?

  He lay in the darkness in his day clothes, covered by the quilt to save time in the morning. All he’d have to do then was pull on his boots and his outdoor wear. His ears were pricked, his mind pondering on Clementine’s perfections and listening for any sounds of her departure.

  In the distance a fox barked, its mind on mating … another answered with several yips.

  He chuckled. If he had a mating call it would be a long, drawn-out howl of frustration at the moment.

  Midnight chimed and he began to relax. Clementine wouldn’t run away at this time of night, and she wouldn’t sneak off after he’d gone, leaving the children with only Polly to console them. By the time he returned from London she’d have forgotten his kiss. And he wouldn’t allow it to happen again.

  Though she had such a soft, shapely mouth …

  The next morning Zachariah was surprised to find Clementine in the warmth of the kitchen, her apron almost swamping her as she juggled the heavy skillet to cook their breakfast. At least he and Stephen would have something warm in their stomachs for the journey.

  Her hair was in a long, slick braid that gleamed as the candlelight played on it, for it was still dark beyond the window glass.

  ‘What miracle is this?’ he said. ‘My cook seems to have lost several years and has shrunk overnight.’

  She gave him a cool look that would have withered most men.

  ‘I do hope we’re going to part as friends. Don’t send me away with a frown, Clementine.’

  A tiny little crease appeared at the corner of her mouth as she pursed her lips, and then she gave a peal of laughter. He wanted to pursue the train of thought that had led to it but there wasn’t time.

  ‘How many sausages would you like?’

  How mundane the ordinary sausage was when a man’s mind was occupied with satisfying a more carnal appetite. Still, there was enough breakfast to feed an army. ‘Two, and some ham and a couple of eggs, please.’

  Stephen appeared at the door. He was a calm, muscular man of about fifty, with a wife, grown-up children and grandchildren in London.

  ‘The horses are ready when we are, sir. They’ve got a bit of ginger in them this morning. They sense the journey I reckon, and they know they won’t have a carriage to pull. Ben’s walking them around.’