A Hero for Miss Hatherleigh

by Carolyn Miller

  Emma pulled the book onto her lap. “I have found much comfort in the past hours from these words. This is a collection of psalms.”

  “Indeed,” Caroline said, working to look interested as Emma spoke further on trusting God in challenging times. While she was prepared to concede that God may exist, and that some of the Bible did hold truth, it still seemed a step too far to actually trust someone she could not see, and she was not at all sorry when the door soon opened and Mr. Kirby walked in.

  Breath suspended. His head remained bandaged, and his pallor was such as she had never before seen him wear, yet he smiled at her and greeted her warmly enough. In fact, he seemed to hold an even kindlier aspect than she’d come to expect, if the smile reflected in his eyes was to be believed.

  “I wanted to add my thanks to that which I’m sure my sister has already expressed. She could not cease praising Miss Hatherleigh’s good nature and determination and compassion earlier today.”

  His smile elicited a curl of pleasure within. “Truly, it was nothing.”

  “Ah, but that is where you are wrong. Clearly such heroics were something.”

  “Hardly heroics,” she murmured.

  “You were heroine enough for our purposes, and for that we thank you.”

  Heat rushed to her cheeks, leading her to wish to turn the conversation to something else. “May I enquire about your recovery, sir?”

  “The doctor says I should take things slowly for the next little while.”

  “I am glad. So, no permanent injury?”

  “The only permanent injury might be to my pride,” he said, eyes twinkling in a way reminiscent of his sister’s. “I am sure that it is not at all the thing for a gentleman to be seen by a genteel young lady in such a state of disrepair.”

  “Well, I am glad to see you seem to have recovered something of your health and your wits.” She pushed to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I am sure that I must go.”

  “Thank you, Miss Hatherleigh, for calling on us,” Emma said, moving as if to get up.

  “Please, do not trouble yourself. I can see myself out.”

  “I shall see her out,” said Mr. Kirby.

  A smirk flitted across his sister’s face before she resumed her usual composure, simply thanking Caroline once again for the flowers and the visit.

  Mrs. Ballard offered a curtsy, opening the door as Mr. Kirby drew Caroline to the entrance hall.

  “Miss Hatherleigh,” he said slowly, before looking up with those intense gray eyes. “Thank you for not speculating aloud back there on what the cause for my injury might be.”

  “Emma believes it to be rockfall, but it is not, is it?”

  “I do not like conjecture, but I believe it might be something more to do with the local free-trading community.”

  She gasped. “Really?”

  He smiled, before his features stiffened in a wince. “I am devastated to know that elicits your concern more than does the state of my injuries.”

  Little did he know how his injuries had kept her awake half the night. But she could not let him know of her worry for him, and strove to cover her concern with a careless smile. “Am I to imply by your comment that you are seeking my sympathy?”

  “Not imply, my dear Miss Hatherleigh. I wish it to be plainly known.”

  “Why you should wish such a thing I do not know.”

  “I hope one day a reason might be revealed to you.”

  She bit her lip, wondering at the look in his eyes. Surely he did not mean to suggest he held some interest in her? Was that prideful to assume? But if he did, what would her parents say if Mr. Kirby, a mere commoner, declared his interest in someone whose connections to nobility were so well known?

  Gideon watched her as the color rose on her cheeks. That she did not know what to reply was obvious. That he was the cause for her confusion made his heart sing. For if she entertained no thought of him, then surely her answer would have been most plainly said by now.

  “Forgive me, Miss Hatherleigh. I should not tease.”

  She looked startled for a moment, and then her features closed. “No, you should not. That is ungentlemanly.”

  “Again, I beg your forgiveness.”

  She nodded stiffly, her eyes not quite meeting his, then murmured a farewell and turned as if to go.

  “Miss Hatherleigh?” She paused.

  “I offer my deepest gratitude for all your assistance yesterday. And I would beg your indulgence in not speaking of it to anyone.”

  Her eyes swiftly rose to his. “You have not spoken to the authorities?”

  “I do not know quite what I would say if I did, so I think it best to say nothing at this stage.”

  “Oh. I just thought …”

  He drew closer. “You just thought?”

  “I just thought that if it were”—she hesitated—“if it were members of a certain section of local society, the authorities might want to be made aware.”

  “I believe they would.”

  She stared at him, eyebrows raised, as if waiting for him to say more.

  “But I fear that sharing such suspicions might prove detrimental to those I love.”

  Love.

  This last word seemed to fill the space between them. He swallowed. Even in his ill-fated serenade to the dean’s daughter he had never breathed such a word. But this young lady, so poised and genteel, made him wish for things that could never be. Caution whispered that he wait until he knew where she stood in matters of faith, but something else beckoned him to think on her, think of what could be if she believed like he did. It was almost as if in her presence he became a different man, one who did not need the plaudits of the scientific community but one who could be content to bask in the sunshine of her friendship; of her warm, compassionate spirits; and, if he were so honored, of her love.

  Her cheeks filled with a crimson glow, as if she were as startled by the word as he was, before she dropped her gaze and murmured her farewell and good wishes for his recovery. But he could not regret speaking such a thing aloud. He might have come to the southeast of Devon searching for ancient treasure, but he suspected he had found treasure of a very different kind.

  A FEW DAYS later, Gideon was returning from mailing letters to his brother and Kenmore when a voice called for his attention.

  “Kirby.”

  Gideon turned at the raspy voice. “Good day, Belcher.”

  The thickset man jerked a nod. “Doc tells me you got injured.” He glanced at Gideon’s bandaged head. “What happened?”

  Ah, so this was the envoy sent to learn how much he suspected. He would have to play his cards very carefully to ensure Emma’s safety. “I believe you are aware that I have something of an interest in fossils and the like.”

  The broad-faced man stared impassively.

  “For months now I have been searching for something to further demonstrate God’s remarkable design whilst caring for my family.” Gideon offered a small smile. “I certainly have no desire to impede anyone’s attempts to provide for their loved ones.”

  Again, the other man said nothing, but this time Gideon refused to say more until the man at least acknowledged that they were not so very different after all. After all, surely the reasons for smuggling had to be more about desiring money for one’s family rather than making some political statement, at least in this poor part of the world.

  After staring at him very hard for a few moments more, Belcher finally gave a grunt.

  Well, Gideon thought, suppressing a wry smile, he supposed that would have to do. “I may have stumbled across such a specimen in a cave not so very far from here, but you know what these cliffs are like.” Beyond Belcher, he saw Captain Nicholls, the exciseman responsible for the local area. “These cliffs are often prone to mudslides and the like.”

  Belcher jerked another nod. “You be sayin’ the rocks did it.”

  “I will be saying exactly that,” Gideon affirmed, casting the approaching exciseman a look of sig
nificance.

  “Then I be suggestin’ you be stayin’ away from such places,” Belcher said softly, as Captain Nicholls drew near.

  “Thank you for your advice,” Gideon said, turning to the exciseman. “Good day to you, sir.”

  The older man nodded, frowning as he looked between Gideon and Belcher. “Is there a problem here?”

  “No problem,” Gideon said, as Belcher sidled away.

  “That is a nasty looking cut you’ve sustained,” Nicholls said, his gaze dragging back from following Belcher to fix on Gideon.

  “It is, isn’t it?”

  The small eyes narrowed. “Dr. Fellowes tells me it happened several days ago. Do you recall what happened?”

  “I couldn’t rightly say,” Gideon said honestly.

  “Would you care to speculate on what might have happened, then?” Nicholls said, staring at him very hard.

  “I do not know if that is wise,” Gideon admitted.

  Nicholls pushed closer and lowered his voice. “If it be fear of the likes of Jem Baker and Don Belcher and company, then let me tell you I have them under surveillance. If there is something you think I should know, then I want you to tell me, understand?”

  “I understand perfectly, sir, and I promise that if there is something I think you should know, I shall tell you. Until then …”

  The captain gave a noise of disgust, shook his head, and strode away.

  Gideon exhaled, turning to see Belcher watching him still, so he offered a small smile, which was met with a nod. Such matters as had developed today had made one thing very clear.

  Gideon needed to return to that cave as soon as possible.

  “TOM, I WOULD like you to do something for me.”

  “Yessir?”

  “I find I have need to return to Ladram Bay area, but I do not know if my headaches would make such a journey wise.”

  “If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, I don’t be thinking it wise at all.”

  “Perhaps not,” Gideon agreed. “But I find that I am quite unable to refrain from doing so, which makes the telling of my sister of my whereabouts ill-advised, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Just what is it you be askin’ of me, sir?”

  “I be asking for your assistance, Tom.” Gideon smiled. “For I do believe I have finally found it.”

  “Finally found it?” The older man’s eyes bulged. “Is this a jest, sir?”

  “I am not sure, of course, which is why I wish to return to make quite certain.”

  Tom nodded slowly. “Would this have anything to do with that evil-looking character I saw you with earlier?” He made a sound of disgust. “Smugglers are no good, the lot of them; should all be hanged.”

  “Perhaps,” Gideon conceded. “Or perhaps if I show I have no interest in their trade, they might be prepared to overlook my desire to return to their cave.”

  Tom’s eyes bulged. “You think it was them that hurt you?”

  “I am nearly certain of it.”

  “Then why—?”

  “Because you may not know that Mr. Belcher there has a young and growing family who seem quite as sickly as poor Emma. I would not be party to seeing the only means of income denied them.”

  Tom snorted. “They could get relief from the parish.”

  “You really think a couple of extra shillings enough to provide for a family?”

  “I certainly don’t hold with stealing!”

  “And I certainly don’t begrudge a man desperate to provide for his family,” Gideon said softly. “In fact, I find myself in sympathy with such a predicament.”

  Tom muttered something under his breath before eventually sighing. “When would you be wanting to go?”

  “As soon as I can ensure Emma is safe. And for that, I’m afraid I may need to rely on Miss Hatherleigh’s good graces once again.”

  “I don’t think you got any trouble with that,” Tom said drily.

  “No?”

  “No.” Tom rubbed the sides of his nose. “I think it safe to say that young lady will prove most obliging wherever you are concerned, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  Gideon grinned, heart leaping at this unexpected confirmation of his innermost hope. “Dear Tom, I don’t mind you saying so at all.”

  IT WAS ANOTHER day before his headaches cleared and the expedition to the cave could be finally arranged. In deference to the free traders, Gideon had thought it prudent to make his intentions known in a more public setting, thus giving the smugglers time to remove their goods if necessary, whilst also providing a degree of security by way of Nicholls knowing his whereabouts, should anything untoward occur. This was done in a loud voice guaranteed to secure the attention of both Belcher and Nicholls after services on Sunday, a time which permitted Emma to arrange a visit with Miss Hatherleigh, which he gathered from their discussion would involve a morning expedition to Sidford, about two miles inland, should Emma’s health permit. His sister had seemed well this morning, and he trusted the expedition might also allow for further connection between them, as he couldn’t help but persist in this hope that Tom surprisingly had given rise to. She admired him? How he longed for the day when he might finally be able to show himself worthy of such esteem.

  He trudged along the damp sand, but this time, instead of his steps dogged by failure, he felt a sense of anticipation, hope lighting his heart—hope for today’s outcome and hope for his future. That is, if his memory had not proved faulty.

  And when he attained just beyond the mouth of the cave—further secrets the cave held he had no wish to know—he knew his memory had not led him astray.

  “Look,” he said to Tom, lifting up the lantern and pointing to a curved section jutting from the rock, the surface worn to a shine. “I thought as much.”

  “Is that a bone?”

  “I believe so. Here, hold the lantern while I see if anything more can be unearthed.”

  The next hour was spent in painful expectancy as he used the hammer and pick to carefully chip away at the stubborn earth encasing the fragment. Gradually its true shape became evident. His heart leapt. Could it really be … ?

  “Tom. Tom!”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I think this might be—no, I scarce dare hope for such a thing.”

  “You think it might be another of those backbones like Wilmont found?”

  “No. I think this might be something even more wonderful!”

  If only he could have Kenmore cast his eye over it. Surely his letter must have now arrived? Further efforts soon released more proof amid a cloud of dust. He dragged in a deep breath. By all that was wonderful—

  Gideon started to cough and splutter.

  “There, there, master,” said Tom, patting him on the back. “P’raps you should go outside and get yourself a nice bit of air.”

  Gideon nodded, choking on the dust, and stumbled to the entrance. Outside the gleaming sea seemed to dance with the same sense of anticipation he could feel rippling through his soul. Oh, he had to tell somebody! He had to tell Emma, Aidan, James—and Miss Hatherleigh.

  CHAPTER NİNETEEN

  “YOU HAVE A visitor, miss. Mr. Kirby.”

  At this time of morning? She placed the book down. “Thank you, Dawkins. I shall be ready directly.”

  The initial thrill of his visit diminished as misgiving crossed her chest. Was Emma unwell? Had yesterday’s visit proved too strenuous? Was something wrong?

  Further speculation ceased as the door opened and they exchanged bow and curtsy.

  “Mr. Kirby. I trust all is well with Emma.”

  “Emma? Thank you for your solicitude, she is well. No, this is something else. Miss Hatherleigh, I was hoping you might condescend to accompany us on a short journey to visit the new specimen I found yesterday.”

  “Oh!” She could see from the way Mr. Kirby’s eyes shone and the way he leaned forward, pushing up on his toes, that he barely suppressed excitement. “Whatever it is seems most wonderful.”

/>   “It is!” he assured her, before going on to describe—in scientific and very detailed terms—the precise skeleton of a sea dragon-type creature known as an ichthyosaurus.

  She watched him, eyes bright, hands gesticulating as he explained. He was so far removed from the very proper—and quite frankly, dull—gentlemen of her acquaintance. So interesting and considerate a man … It was pointless to deny her attraction any longer. In him she recognized the qualities she had long admired but could never admit to, qualities more to do with compassion for others than correct lineage, qualities that concerned social good rather than personal wealth. Did such things stem from his faith? She shook away the disquieting thought, focusing on the one thing she now knew: her growing esteem was such she feared she might be falling in love with him. And what would her parents say to that?

  “Forgive me,” he said with a disarming grin. “I can be inclined to prattle away, which becomes apparent when my poor listener’s eyes are starting to glaze over.”

  She lifted a hand to her face, then lowered it, blushing as his grin broadened. “Oh! I do not want you to think I was bored. I enjoy listening to you speak.”

  “You are too kind.”

  “My sisters would probably tell you I’m not nearly kind enough,” she said wryly, “but ever since meeting you, and Emma, of course, I have been challenged to consider my interactions with others, and I have come to the conclusion they have not always been as they ought.”

  His expression sobered. “I would not wish you to be disconcerted by what I say.”

  “But it has been only good! The challenge to be kinder in how I speak and think has to be good, do you not agree?”

  “I would hope so.” He smiled deep into her eyes.

  Her heart quivered. She swallowed, willing away the confusion. But no words would form to save her from embarrassment. She was only conscious of the special warmth lighting his gaze, the small lines feathering out at the corners of his eyes that spoke of tenderness and joy. And his smile, so warm and genuine, one that chased away the shadowed recesses of her heart, one that made his face look lit from within, a smile formed by lips so pliable—even now they were twisted to one side—that she wondered how soft—