Where Seagulls Soar

by Janet Woods

  However, wealth had arrived in an unexpected legacy from a renegade aunt of his father’s family, who’d run off with a West Indian sugar planter of mixed blood – and that wealth was something his brothers remained in ignorance of.

  Kate’s future bothered him a little, for he was the only family she had in life. At the moment the girl was too young to understand, but he knew she’d be slighted in later years, when people learned of her background.

  So he hugged Kate tight and laughed, because he couldn’t be cross with her, however hard he tried. ‘I just came in to say hello.’

  The smile left her face as she accused, ‘You’re going away again, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. For a short time.’

  ‘Can I come this time? You said I could when I’d grown up.’

  ‘And you think you’re grown up now?’

  Scenting success, Kate emphasized her good points. ‘I’ll be good. I promise I won’t fidget or talk too much. I can do up my own buttons now and brush the knots from my hair, though you’ll have to tie the ribbons. And Miss Tanner said I have lovely manners when I put my mind to it.’

  Seth’s thoughts went to Joanna Morcant. He smiled as he remembered her wide blue eyes – he couldn’t help himself. Towing Kate along might break the ice between them, help her to trust him a little more.

  Kate squashed his face between her palms and produced her most winning smile, obviously keeping the best for last as she wheedled, ‘You’re the best Uncle Seth in the world, and I love you.’

  How could he resist such a blatant example of female strategy? He said, chuckling as he set her down on her feet, ‘I’ll ask Miss Tanner to pack you a bag. We’ll leave in the morning and take the railway train to Southampton, where we’ll stay the night in a boarding house, for I have some business to conduct there.’ That business being to satisfy himself that the death of Tobias Darsham had been above board. ‘Then we’ll go on to Dorchester. There, we’ll hire a carriage to take us to Portland.’ Seth intended to bypass Poole, in case he ran into the uncooperative Leonard Rushmore again.

  ‘A railway train?’ A blissful smile split her face and she went skipping off down the garden, her skirts flaring up behind her, calling out excitedly, ‘Wake up, Miss Tanner. I’m going with my uncle on a real railway train . . .’

  Toby had learned to crawl and could now haul himself up on the furniture.

  Outside, Joanna had been obliged to make a pen from a length of fishing net wound around four poles, and secured by stonecutter’s pegs hammered into the ground. Inside it she’d placed the quilt, so Toby wouldn’t be encouraged to devour any hapless insect that wandered into his inquisitive gaze or within the clutch of his fingers. It would also provide something soft for him to sleep on, if the urge took him.

  Even though it was mid-September, the warm weather had lingered on, so to give her son some shade she’d hung a crinoline hoop covered in a silk petticoat from the washing line. The clucking hens outside his prison kept Toby entertained as Joanna bent her back to her task. She could hear him chuckling to himself, above his chatter, the raucous squawk of gulls and the slow clip clop of a horse making its way up the hill. It was probably the coal supplier.

  With the colder weather coming, Joanna had two priorities in life, firstly to sow seeds for winter crops – cabbages, beans, carrots and potatoes. Her other priority was winter fuel. The bunker was almost empty and she had no money to buy more unless she sold some of her mother’s jewellery. That would mean a visit to the Lugger Inn, at Easton, where, no doubt, the wily Barnes brothers, who dealt in anything they could sell, and without asking questions, would pay her far less than its full value.

  There was a soft breeze blowing and the seagulls were gliding high on it against a blue sky as she placed her hands against her aching back and straightened up to ease it. Perhaps the coal man would accept her mother’s ring instead of payment, she thought, though she was loath to part with any of her jewellery.

  The islanders had been generous so far, but she couldn’t rely on their charity for ever. She’d hardly moved in when she’d discovered various items left on her doorstep overnight. A basket of vegetables, a jug of milk or a loaf of bread now and again. Then there was the sack of flour and a flitch of smoked bacon, a generous gift indeed.

  She supplemented her diet with the snalters she trapped, the little birds making a tasty, though not a very substantial, dish. The wheatears would leave the island for warmer parts of the world soon. Then she’d have to rely on the fish she could catch and eggs from the hens. Her time was fully occupied with trying to survive. But she would.

  Thinking of winter made her remember the ten shillings Seth Adams had placed in her purse. The money now resided in the brown jug, waiting for its owner to claim it. That would buy her some coal, she thought, bending back to her task. Seth Adams would hardly go to the expense of coming all the way from London to collect it and she could always replace it later.

  Behind her, Toby had quieted. He’d probably fallen asleep. Then she heard him begin to babble and chatter, in the way he always did when he was excited. A child giggled.

  Grace, most likely. Though Joanna had thought Tilda was going off to market today.

  She turned, her eyes widening when she saw Seth Adams leaning against the wall, almost as though she’d conjured him up just by thinking about him. How had he got here? He hadn’t come through the gate, because the squeaking hinges would have alerted her. A child was perched on the wall, one arm around Seth’s neck, her head resting on his shoulder.

  Pulling himself up the fishing net, Toby fell forward and somersaulted over it. He landed on his back, quickly turned on to his hands and knees and headed for the visitors at as fast a crawl as he could go.

  ‘Now look what you’ve done,’ Joanna scolded. ‘He’ll escape all the time now he’s learned how to go about it.’

  As she grabbed her son up, Joanna suddenly became aware of her dishevelled appearance, of the perspiration on her body, her bare feet, calloused and dirty hands and the untidy appearance of her braided hair. She quickly fastened the top button on her bodice. ‘I’m not in a condition to receive visitors.’

  He slid her a teasing grin. ‘I noticed you’re not wearing your hoop and petticoat today.’

  Damn him, he’d made her blush. She turned her face away, her eyes going to the girl, who’d jumped down from the wall to stare at the hens. When the girl looked up at her they smiled at each other.

  ‘Do the chickens have names?’ she said.

  ‘I haven’t thought of names for them yet.’

  ‘My hen at home is called Victoria, after the queen. She lays brown eggs and I have them for breakfast. My name is Kate Sarah Adams.’

  ‘That’s a pretty name. Mine is Joanna Rose Morcant.’

  ‘That’s a nice name, too. I came here in a railway train. It was exciting but I got some soot in my eye and it made me cry.’ She gave Joanna a sideways look, then lowered her voice to an urgent whisper. ‘Do you have a chamber pot? I badly need to go.’

  Joanna nodded, and taking the girl by the hand began to lead her towards the house.

  ‘Aren’t you going to invite me in, as well?’ Seth said.

  ‘Eventually, but Kate is uncomfortable, and I need to tidy myself up and feed my son. I’d be obliged if you would give me a half an hour of privacy first.’

  Seth began to remove his coat. ‘I’ll do a bit of digging for you while I’m waiting.’

  She gave a slight smile and nodded, sure he’d quickly tire of it.

  Kate was soon made comfortable. Joanna poured some water into a bowl and washed her face and upper body, then she gave Toby a quick feed. The girl watched the proceedings with great interest. Afterwards, Joanna slipped into a clean bodice, then vigorously brushed out her hair, tying it into a knot at the nape of her neck.

  Toby had fallen asleep on the bed. Carrying him downstairs she laid him on the battered settee. He wouldn’t sleep for long.

  Through th
e window she saw that Seth was attacking the garden bed with ease. His muscles moved smoothly in unison under his shirt, and he seemed to be enjoying the exercise.

  Putting the kettle on to boil, Joanna placed cups on a tray, all odd ones. Brian Rushmore hadn’t left much in the cottage intact. Thank goodness she had some milk, though.

  ‘Is there any cake?’ Kate asked her. ‘I’m hungry.’

  ‘I haven’t got any cake, but I have a piece of bread and some apple and strawberry jam to spread on it.’

  ‘Why haven’t you got cake? Don’t you like it?’

  ‘I’m too poor to buy anything but essentials, so I have to live without cake,’ Joanna told her, cutting a slice from the remainder of the loaf.

  A pair of bright eyes remarkably like Seth’s came up to engage hers, and Joanna wondered what the relationship between them was. Sister and brother perhaps? ‘Bread and jam is nice too.’ Thanking her politely, Kate waited for the bread to be spread with jam, then began to eat it.

  ‘You can go and tell Mr Adams he may come into the house now if he wishes,’ Joanna told her.

  Seth came in a few minutes later. He must have held his head under the pump, because water dripped from his hair and arms.

  Joanna handed him a threadbare towel. ‘Why have you come, Mr Adams?’

  ‘To collect my ten shillings, of course,’ he said, and smiled.

  Joanna’s heart sank.

  6

  Seth Adams didn’t as much as flicker an eyelid when Joanna handed him the mismatched cup and saucer. Murmuring his thanks, he took a seat on the threadbare chair, crossed one elegantly shod leg over the other and sipped at it.

  There was a catlike smugness to the smile he gave her as she seated herself next to the sleeping Toby and prepared to engage in polite conversation.

  ‘You were not very well the last time I saw you, Mrs Morcant? I do hope your condition has improved.’

  Had there been a slight emphasis on the word condition? His astute eyes told her he’d guessed exactly what that condition had been. She returned his smile. ‘Thank you for enquiring. I’m in perfect health now.’

  ‘And your son?’

  ‘None the worse for his mishap.’ Her glance went to the little girl, and her eyes questioned him.

  ‘My niece,’ he said.

  ‘There’s a remarkable resemblance between you. Is Kate your brother’s child, perhaps?’

  Seth’s eyes hooded and he put the cup to his lips and murmured something indistinct.

  Kate came to gaze down at Toby and her fingers gently stroked his dark silky curls. ‘He’s nice. Are you his mother?’

  ‘Yes, I am.’

  ‘I wish I had a mother. Mine is in heaven. Her name was Sarah and she was uncle Seth’s sister.’

  Seth’s next breath flattened into a hiss of annoyance.

  Amused by the girl’s innocent candour, Joanna’s glance slid over Kate’s head to meet the level gaze of her visitor. An ironic twist of his lips met her spare smile. ‘You were lucky to have a kind uncle to look after you.’

  Kate tugged at her skirt for attention. ‘I haven’t got a father, either. Has Toby got one?’

  ‘His father is in heaven, too,’ she said, feeling a rush of guilt for entertaining another man in her house. Not that Alex had ever been here in this snug cottage she’d grown up in. If he had been, he would surely have scorned it.

  ‘It’s not polite to ask Mrs Morcant so many questions,’ Seth reminded his niece.

  Joanna grinned at that. ‘Nor for me to ask Kate questions, I take it. You may ask your own if you wish. It doesn’t seem fair to use an innocent child for our own ends.’

  Placing the cup down he laughed, as if her observation had caught him unawares. ‘Are you always so straightforward?’

  ‘No, but it does tend to dispense with the social preamble and cut through to the point. Why are you here, Mr Adams? I can’t believe it’s to collect ten shillings.’

  ‘It’s not. I was utterly captivated by your blue eyes and wanted to see you again.’

  Joanna was overcome by a vague sense of disappointment as she gazed at him. ‘I’d formed an opinion that you were an exceptionally intelligent man. Must I revise that?’

  His shrug contained an embarrassed awkwardness. ‘The truth is, I liked you when we first met and wanted to learn a little more about you. Is that so hard for you to accept?’

  Now it was her turn to feel awkward. ‘Then I’ll tell you about me. I was brought up in this cottage, the only child of Anna and Joseph Rushmore. The cottage was built by my pa, a stonecutter by trade. He died in the quarry when I was about Kate’s age. Ma and I tended the fields, and worked as housemaids to earn our living. My ma was a good, hardworking woman and I never went without food . . . or love.’

  ‘So you’ve always lived here?’

  ‘Not always. I left the island when I married. Now I’m widowed and have come back with my son. As you can see, we’re living in relative poverty. My immediate concern is to grow enough vegetables so we can survive the coming winter, and to scrape together some money to buy the fuel to keep us warm.’ She spread her hands. ‘This is what I am, and always have been.’

  Joanna stood. Crossing to the shelf, she took out the velvet pouch that contained her mother’s jewellery and tipped the glittering contents on to the table. ‘Perhaps you’d like to buy something for your niece while you’re here. Take your pick. It will save me going to the Lugger’s Inn and trying to sell it to the Barnes brothers, who will cheat me.’

  Seth stared at the array of jewels with some shock, but he had a slightly speculative look in his eyes.

  She realized she’d made a mistake and couldn’t meet his eyes as she whispered, ‘It’s not stolen. This belonged to my mother. See, I have no pride left. I’ll sell everything I own to keep myself and my son alive this winter, for there’s a turnip in every precious stone, at least.’

  ‘Everything you own?’

  She gave a slightly bitter laugh and looked him straight in the eye. ‘Only a man would speculate on that. Who knows, I might even consider that, too, if it buys me a couple of sheep.’

  ‘I didn’t imagine you to be the type of woman who would indulge in amateur dramatics,’ he drawled, words which hit her like a douse of cold water in the face, so she gave a spluttering gasp.

  Her dismay brought a taut smile to his lips. ‘However, if the latter profession takes your fancy I’d be quite willing to pay a good price to be your first client.’

  She coloured as she spat at him, ‘I’d see you in hell first.’

  ‘I’m quite sure you wouldn’t.’ His smile faltered as he leaned forward and swept the jewels to one side. ‘I’m sorry, that was unforgivable of me.’

  ‘You’re obviously expecting me to succumb to such a suggestion. Don’t you think that’s a little arrogant of you?’

  ‘Damn you, woman, can’t we behave like civilized people? I didn’t come here to negotiate a rate for the use of your body.’

  She tossed her head. ‘Damn you, too, Seth Adams. I didn’t ask you to come here at all.’

  Kate picked up a pendant with a diamond in it and held it up, watching it glitter in the light. Toby woke with a start, his face flushed with sleep. When he set eyes on Kate with the pendant he began to chuckle. Joanna lifted him to the floor and the two children went off behind the couch to play with the stone.

  The adults stared at each other like a pair of bristling dogs, then Seth took out his wallet and threw a wad of notes on to the table.

  ‘What’s that for?’ she asked him suspiciously.

  ‘The rose brooch. Kate has a birthday soon.’

  She shook her head. ‘Anything but that. I’ve had the brooch since I was a baby. It was a gift from my ma.’

  ‘A kiss then.’

  ‘For Kate?’

  He chuckled. ‘I’ll pass it on in a modified form.’

  Joanna only just managed to hang on to her sudden urge to laugh. ‘You follow your instinc
ts too easily.’

  His eyes filled with amusement. ‘A kiss in exchange for a couple of sheep. Surely that’s a bargain.’

  ‘For whom, Mr Adams?’

  ‘That remains to be discovered. I can’t bear to think of you and your child going hungry this winter. Is a kiss such a high price to pay?’

  The chance to say no was lost to her when he moved to where she sat and took her face gently between his palms. Up close, his eyes displayed a dark edge around the wintery grey, so they resembled those of a hawk. His mouth was a strong curve, but his lips were delicately soft as they touched against hers.

  Joanna had never considered a kiss to be a work of art, but Seth Adams kissed with such finesse that the subtleties of his caress reached into the very depths of her soul. She closed her eyes, responding to this stranger’s intimacy, trying to ignore the warning clamour of her body.

  When he drew away, her eyes remained closed for a few seconds. His smile was tender when she opened them. ‘Definitely a bargain for me, I’d say, Mrs Morcant.’

  She didn’t want to flirt with this man. There was something ruthless about him. ‘Not for me. I feel . . . soiled.’

  ‘Nothing about that kiss soiled you, my dear Joanna. What you’re feeling is guilt, since your response told us both how much you enjoyed being kissed. Despite being a grieving widow, your nature is sensuous.’

  She stiffened. ‘You’re no gentleman.’

  He chuckled. ‘I’ve never pretended to be.’

  She drew in a deep breath, trying to keep a check on her temper, rising from the settee so she could put some distance between them. Fetching the brown jug, she emptied the coins it contained on top of the notes. ‘Here is your ten shillings. Take it with you when you leave. The kiss was free of charge.’

  Picking up Toby, who gave a cry of displeasure at being parted from his new playmate, Joanna stomped off upstairs, leaving her guests to their own devices.

  After a short while footsteps pattered up the stairs and Kate’s voice whispered against the door panel, ‘Are you cross with us, Joanna?’