by Cheryl Holt
He walked over to where Tim and Tom were observing his every step.
“Was there any sign of Miss James or her niece?” Tom asked. “They weren’t . . . well . . . they weren’t trapped in it, were they?”
“No. It appears they escaped.”
“That’s a blessing, isn’t it?” Tim said. “We should think so.”
Tom added, “Perhaps they’re in the village, staying with friends.”
Did Joanna have friends in the village? Jacob had no idea, but he nodded. “Perhaps so.”
He studied the mess, feeling bereft and disoriented. He’d pinned so many hopes on her. He’d been anxious to implement shocking, marvelous changes, and they all included her. She had to be all right. She and Clara both. He refused to consider any other conclusion.
“Let’s head off,” he said. “I have to get home.”
“What about Miss James and her niece?”
“There might be news at the manor, and we’ll find them. I have no doubt.”
Libby kept meandering over to glance out the front window. Then Caro would join her. Mr. Periwinkle was almost to Barrett, and he’d sent a quick rider with the thrilling report that Joanna was with him. They would arrive any minute.
Apparently, Joanna had suffered some difficulties, and she had an orphaned niece and an injured dog with her. She would need some advice, some strong defenders, and some tender, loving care, which Libby would provide in spades.
“Would you sit down?” her fiancé, Luke, asked. “You’re nervous as a cat in a thunderstorm.”
“You always say that to me,” she responded.
“Well, it’s always true. You won’t make their carriage wheels turn any faster by staring down the road.”
Caro’s fiancé, Caleb, added, “In fact—if you constantly peek outside—it will make the wheels turn slower. It’s that old adage about how a watched cake never bakes.”
“You two are too obnoxious to abide,” Libby told them. “Why don’t you slither away and engage in some manly pursuits—like drinking or cards? Leave the women to focus on what’s important.”
Caro came up to stand next to her, and she slipped her hand into Libby’s. They held tight, gazing down the lane. Then . . . ?
The coach lumbered out of the trees.
“It’s them,” Caro murmured, and Libby practically shouted, “They’re here!”
The news raced through the manor with lightning speed. The entire house had been waiting for Joanna, and the sense of excitement was too potent to describe.
Libby and Caro ran off together, hands still linked, and they dashed to the driveway. Behind them, a crowd filtered out: Luke and Caleb, her half-sister, Penny, who was planning the wedding, her cousin and Penny’s handsome husband, Simon Falcon, the butler, Mr. Hobbs, and the other servants.
The vehicle approached in a dreamy sort of snail’s pace, and as it rattled to a halt, there was a moment of breathless anticipation, where Time itself seemed to cease its ticking.
In a normal world, they’d have politely tarried while a footman set the step and greeted the occupants, but Libby had never been a patient person.
She hurried over, dragging Caro with her, and before an outrider could jump down, she opened the door herself and peered inside. “Joanna James! Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. For twenty years, I’ve been looking!”
Joanna—small of stature and pretty as ever—leaned out and tumbled into Libby’s arms. Libby caught her, Caro too, and the three Lost Girls of the Caribbean began to cry.
“I’ve had a great life.”
At hearing Joanna declare it, Caro and Libby smiled and teared up again. They’d been crying off and on for hours and couldn’t stop.
They were in Libby’s bedroom. Joanna was stretched out on the bed, having been bathed, coddled, and dressed in clean clothes. Lord Barrett had locked them in, so they could talk without pause or interruption.
Libby’s story was known by everyone in the kingdom. When she’d been returned to England, Harry Carstairs had blustered forward and claimed to be her uncle. The navy had handed her over without investigating. She’d been a talented, flamboyant child, and he’d trained her for the stage.
She was England’s darling, and people adored her. In recent months, due to Mr. Periwinkle’s newspaper articles, it had been revealed that she was Henrietta Pendleton too, so she was Lord Roland’s daughter. In a few days, she would wed Luke and become his countess.
Her life had played out as if she were a cursed princess trapped in a tower, and the romantic ending—with her marrying Lord Barrett—had pushed her fame to stunning heights.
Caro had been given to her cruel grandfather who’d tormented her. Once he’d passed away, her uncle had assumed control of the family, and though he’d acted kindly on the surface, he’d been just as cruel—and very corrupt too.
Before Caro’s father had perished in the shipwreck, he’d explored in Africa with Sir Sidney Sinclair and had wound up owner of a diamond mine. The money had been dumped into a trust fund that Caro’s male relatives had hidden from her so they could spend her fortune on themselves.
She’d been treated like Cinderella, but that horrid era was over. Their shenanigans had been exposed, and their many crimes were being prosecuted. She was free of them, and she was about to marry Jacob’s half-brother, Caleb Ralston.
Joanna had been astonished to find him in residence at Barrett, astonished to learn that he was about to wed Caro, and she was frantically trying to figure out what it indicated.
She’d been biting her tongue, wondering if she should mention her connection to Jacob. She knew Jacob viewed Caleb in a cordial way, but she wasn’t sure of Caleb’s opinion in the other direction. With her only just walking in the door, she hadn’t been keen to raise a difficult topic, and at the moment, she wouldn’t ponder Jacob.
He’d been recalled to the navy, and she couldn’t imagine when he’d return to Ralston Place. When he did, would he still be fond of her? Would he ride to her cottage to see her? When he found it burned to the ground, the meadow cleared by Kit Boswell, what would he think? Would he even recollect their fleeting amour?
“Tell us more about your Aunt Pru,” Libby said. “What was she like? I remember your mother quite vividly.”
“That is so lovely to hear. It warms my heart.”
Joanna’s mother had lived for several weeks after they’d staggered onto their island. In the beginning, there had been six adults with them, but they’d gradually died from illness or injury. Joanna’s mother had been the last one to go. She’d cut her foot, and it had become infected. Their health had been so depleted that she hadn’t been able to survive it.
“Did your aunt look like your mother?” Caro asked.
“Yes, she looked like her, and they were a year apart in age. They were completely similar in temperament, so it was like being with my mother all over again.”
Caro and Libby sighed with pleasure.
“I missed both of you so much,” she said, “and we tried to contact you. Caro, we wrote to your grandfather and suggested a visit, but we received such a nasty reply that we didn’t attempt it again.”
Caro’s jaw dropped. “I never knew!”
“I wish now that we’d continued to pester him. I can’t guess if it might have improved your circumstances, but Aunt Pru was like a force of nature. She wouldn’t have stood by and let you be abused.”
“I can’t blame her for avoiding my grandfather. He was such a bitter, unhappy man. I can just envision the terrible remarks he’d have penned about me in a letter.”
“And Libby,” Joanna said, “we tried to see you too. We read a newspaper advertisement that you’d be performing in a nearby village, so we bought tickets, but you weren’t in the show. We inquired of the manager afterward, and he advised us that you’d accepted a
nother engagement and weren’t there.” She chuckled. “He wouldn’t refund our money, and Aunt Pru was so mad.”
Libby clucked her tongue. “I used to nag at my Uncle Harry that I wanted to find you. For years, he claimed it was impossible to discover where you were, then, once I was older and grew more adamant, he lied and insisted he’d written to the navy, and they’d lost the records.”
“No!” Joanna protested. “That is so malicious. Why would he act that way?”
“He was a wily character, and I could never divine his motives. I was such a gullible dunce that I believed whatever he told me.”
Caro said, “I never understood their keeping us apart. Why couldn’t we have been allowed to remain friends? It never made any sense to me.”
“Tell us more about your life,” Libby said to Joanna, “and I swear I’ll stop interrupting. I’m constantly blabbing about my own past, so you never finish with yours. It sounds as if you were the only one of us who was content.”
“I was very content.”
“Mr. Periwinkle informed us that you were living at Ralston Place, which belongs to Caleb’s half-brother, Jacob. You’re aware of how they’re connected to us, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yes, I’m aware of it,” Joanna said.
“How did you end up there? And have you met Jacob? If you have, does he realize who you are?”
“And what happened to you?” Caro asked. “When you arrived, you were positively bedraggled. You and your dog were injured. What was the cause?”
Joanna launched into a lengthy story, admitting the truth about her parents, about her father’s vicious wife who’d chased her mother out of England. She told them about her female ancestors, the special gifts they had that scared so many others. She explained how they’d learned over the centuries to be vigilant and careful.
She told them about Clara being born and discarded by her mother. She told them about moving to Ralston Place in order to conceal Clara’s whereabouts from her despicable kin.
Previously, Joanna had assumed that was the impetus, but with Kit Boswell and Roxanne Ralston winding up in the same spot as Clara, she was wondering if Pru hadn’t transported her and Clara to the estate for a reason.
Pru had firmly believed in pre-destiny. Perhaps she’d read Clara’s and Joanna’s cards and had decided their fate lay at Ralston. Who could be certain?
Joanna told them about Kit Boswell and Roxanne Ralston being Clara’s parents, how they’d resolved to be rid of Clara. Then, she confessed why Roxanne had wanted Joanna gone too.
“You had an affair with Jacob Ralston?” Libby appeared stunned.
“I wouldn’t call it an affair,” Joanna said. “That would indicate a protracted relationship. This was more of an illicit flirtation.”
Libby and Caro exchanged an odd glance, and Joanna’s spirits sank. Had she revealed too many details? They’d blithely accepted her description of her powers and ancient knowledge, but maybe a carnal amour was too much.
“Do you hate me for it?” she asked, her mood plummeting.
“Gad, no,” Caro said. “We’ve been talking about how Miles Ralston’s ghost seems to be hovering. I’m convinced that he brought Caleb into my life. Now you have been seduced by Jacob. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“The last time I spoke to Miles Ralston,” Joanna said, “he and I were alone on his ship, and we were about to dock in Jamaica.”
“We never saw him again,” Libby said with quite a bit of dismay.
“He was holding me on his hip, and we had a very solemn conversation—well, as much of a solemn conversation as you can have with a four-year-old. I asked him to always watch over us, and I think he is. I think it took him awhile to locate us from the other side, and once he managed it, he went to work to ensure we wound up safe and happy.”
“You gave him this task?” Libby said.
“Yes, and for two decades, I’ve been waiting for him to get on with it. I’m back with you and Caro again, and I feel as if he’s finally behaving as he promised he would.”
“I wouldn’t necessarily agree that everything is fixed,” Caro said. “Caleb is marrying me, but what about you and Jacob? Has matrimony crossed his mind? From my own experience with the Ralston men, they have to be hog-tied and dragged to the altar.”
“Jacob would never wed me,” Joanna said. “He’s very conscious of his elevated status as Miles’s son, and he’s too far above me. He actually told me that.”
Her reply had Libby and Caro hooting with laughter. After they calmed down, Joanna asked, “What’s so funny?”
Libby answered the question. “Jacob Ralston might assume he’s too top-lofty to marry you, but my fiancé will have a very different opinion about it. In situations like this, he’s a stickler for the proprieties. He will never sit by and let a cad slink away after a maiden has been ruined.”
“Would you like to wed him, Joanna?” Caro asked. “Luke and Caleb could persuade him for you. They both know him, and they could pressure him into it.”
Joanna shut her eyes and pondered the notion. Would she like it?
She tried to imagine herself as his wife, residing at Ralston Manor, having Margaret Howell as her sister-in-law. His relatives would share Margaret’s view of her, and they’d be vehemently opposed to a match. Joanna refused to wedge herself into such an awful morass. And what would she do with a husband anyway?
It didn’t matter how deeply she cherished Jacob. He was a man. By his very nature, he felt it was his God-given right to lord himself over any female. But Joanna deemed that type of arrangement to be ridiculous. How could two such disparate people ever come together in a sane way?
“No,” she said, “I don’t want to wed him. I love him dearly, but I can’t fathom how it would ever work.”
“If you love him,” Libby said, “how could you walk away? I’d never be that noble. Why won’t you fight for him?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that I’m too independent. The first time he bossed me, I’d pack up and leave.”
“It’s what I kept telling myself about Luke,” Libby said. “When he proposed, I thought I’d wind up killing him before we were through, but he’s growing on me.”
“He dotes on you like a besotted idiot,” Caro said.
“You mention it like it’s a bad thing,” Libby responded.
Joanna studied Libby’s body, noticing the gentle aura surrounding her. She focused on Libby’s stomach and said, “Could I put my hand on you for a moment?”
“I suppose.”
Joanna climbed off the bed and knelt in front of her. She placed a palm over her womb and held it there as she concentrated intently. Finally, she saw what she was searching for.
She smiled and whispered, “You’re going to have a baby.”
“I’m . . . what?” Libby looked pole-axed.
“A baby.” Joanna added, “A boy.”
Caro smirked at Libby. “You’d best hurry and get Luke’s ring on your finger.”
“Are you sure?” Libby asked Joanna.
“Yes, and now that I’m with you again, I can deliver it too.”
“A boy . . .” Libby murmured. “Luke will be so glad.”
Joanna glanced at Caro and pointed to her stomach. “May I?”
“I’m almost afraid to let you,” Caro said.
Libby chuckled. “It doesn’t hurt, Caro. Don’t be a ninny.”
Joanna laid a palm on Caro, and she searched for an eternity, then said, “Not yet. But soon.”
Caro pulled her close and hugged her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. Libby scooted off her chair and joined in the embrace. They cried and chatted and cried some more.
When their knees and backs grew tired, and they drew away, Libby—always a nuisance—asked, “How do you know such eerie magic? How can you predict such mysterious events? Ar
e you a witch?”
Joanna shrugged. “I might be, but I’ll only ever admit it to the two of you. If anyone else inquires, we’ll simply say I have some peculiar quirks.”
“A witch in the family . . .” Caro mused. “My world becomes stranger by the day.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“I’m feeling perfect.”
Caro sighed and snuggled herself to Caleb’s chest. They were nestled on a sofa in a cozy parlor, sitting by a dying fire. She was talked out, and she could barely keep her eyes open.
“What has Joanna’s life been like?” Caleb asked. “I would have inquired myself, but in case it was horrid, I figured I shouldn’t pry.”
“Of the three of us, she had the only sensible upbringing. She was claimed by her mother’s sister who was a midwife and healer, so it was her nature to be kind. The women in their family have that calling.”
“Joanna too?”
“Yes. She delivers babies and nurses the sick. She brews potions to treat various illnesses.”
“Like an apothecary?”
“Yes, sort of. She’s a clairvoyant too.”
“My goodness. I’ll have to ask her what she sees in my future.”
Caro scoffed. “You don’t need a clairvoyant to inform you. You’ll live happily ever after—with me as your bride.” She sat up so she could look at him. “Guess what she told me.”
“Besides her confessing to qualities that make her incredibly odd? With that red hair of hers, I can’t imagine what it might be.”
“You’re aware that she’s at Ralston Place.”
“I could hardly forget. Has she met my half-brother?”
“Oh, she’s met him all right.”
Caleb scowled. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You won’t like it.”
“Tell me.”
He had a difficult relationship with Jacob Ralston, but recently, Jacob had reached out to Caleb, hoping to be friends. He’d even invited Caleb to a September party where, according to Joanna, he would announce his engagement, but Caro doubted Jacob would be marrying Roxanne Ralston.
