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Echoes of a Promise

Page 3

by Ashleigh Bingham


  She saw that she’d touched the right nerve. ‘But what can be done, Mary? After all, this is Victoria we’re talking about!’

  She held his dinner jacket for him while she explained the part he was required to play in her strategy. ‘I have no intention of confronting her, my dear, because there are other ways to detach our daughter from this unsuitable young man. You’ll see.’

  Fortunately for her plan, the family was dining alone that night and, as usual on these rare evenings, the conversation was focused on Emily’s wedding. The ceremony was still three months away, but the list of guests to be invited was a regular topic for discussion. And, right on cue, Mr Shelford delivered his line.

  ‘My dear, do you think that your Aunt Honoria will be able to travel up from Devon for the ceremony?’ He spoke innocently and kept his eyes fixed on his plate.

  ‘Oh, poor Aunt Honoria! No. Sadly, I’m afraid it will be quite impossible for her to make the journey now that her health is failing.’ Lady Mary looked pained. ‘You know, my dear, I think she will ninety next birthday, and she mentioned in her last letter how very frail she is becoming. I’ve always been uneasy about her living all alone down there.’

  Across the table, Emily’s great blue eyes filled with concern.

  ‘No, Emily,’ Lady Mary said smartly. ‘I know that it would lift her spirits if you went down to spend a little time with her, but you can’t possibly leave London when we have so many things to prepare for the wedding. And neither can we expect Victoria to put aside all her charity work and other engagements to visit such a remote part of the country.’ From the corner of her eye Lady Mary saw Victoria drop her knife and fork.

  ‘Oh, Mama, of course I can arrange time away from London. My friend Patricia will happily take my place at the hospital on Thursdays, and I’d love to stay with Aunt Honoria for a few weeks. Now I feel wretched to think that I’ve let myself become so caught up with things here that I haven’t been down to Devon since last year. I must go down there to visit her again. Oh, please say that you’ll agree to it.’

  Lady Mary made a play of looking questioningly at her husband. ‘What do you think, George? Can we spare Victoria?’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course, and thank you, my dear. Amost charitable offer. I’ll telegraph Aunt Honoria tomorrow and say you’ll be on Saturday’s train.’ Mr Shelford and his wife exchanged a congratulatory glance and said no more about the matter until they retired for the night.

  ‘In all honesty, Mary,’ he said, as soon as the maid had left her bedroom, ‘I must confess that I’m not entirely easy about Victoria spending some time with your disgraceful old aunt.’ He sat on the end of his wife’s bed while she tied the strings of her nightcap. ‘I’ve always thought that much of Caroline’s wild behaviour was encouraged by the stories she heard about Honoria’s scandalous past.’

  Lady Mary’s eyelids drooped. ‘It was all so long ago, George. Yes, it’s a fact that she was once married to a Prussian baron, and then to some Italian count. And of course, there were all those affairs in France.’

  ‘Well, I think she was guilty of filling Caroline’s head full of romantic stories when the girl was far too young to understand the consequences of such behaviour.’

  ‘Oh, George, surely you’re not suggesting that Victoria could ever be swayed by Aunt Honoria’s tales?’ She patted her husband’s hand, settled her head on the pillow and closed her eyes. ‘Our Victoria has her feet set firmly on the ground, as you well know, my dear, and when dear Howard Royston arrives home we’ll announce their engagement. You’ll see. Next year we’ll have another wedding to prepare.’

  And perhaps there would be a significant event to celebrate before then, he thought, smiling to himself as he left her room. When his knighthood was announced, his wife was sure to arrange a fitting celebration. Perhaps a grand ball?

  Ah! What a night that would be for Sir George Shelford.

  CHAPTER THREE

  When Victoria’s train pulled into the tiny platform at Sedleigh, old Wilf Potts, chewing on the stem of his briar pipe, was waiting for her with Aunt Honoria’s trap.

  ‘Hello, Mr Potts, how good it is to be back here again.’ He gave a friendly grunt. ‘How is my aunt today?’

  ‘Fit as a heifer.’

  She climbed up into the seat beside him. ‘I hope you and Mrs Potts are keeping well, too?’ Her great-aunt’s retainers were surely both well over eighty now.

  ‘Aye, that we are, thank ’e, miss.’ This was usually the extent of any conversation with Mr Potts and Victoria attempted no more while the little grey mare clopped up and down the hilly lanes leading to Lady Honoria’s house three miles away.

  She slipped off her gloves, pulled the hat from her head and breathed in the sweet, earthy scents of the countryside around them. Occasional glimpses of the whitecaps dancing on the blue sea beyond the cliffs took her eye and, looking down from the bridge as they clattered over the river, she saw a vessel under repair in the little shipyard which had stood there on the bank for more than a century.

  ‘Mr Strickland appears to be very busy in the yard.’ She craned her neck to see sheets of copper being unloaded from a wagon.

  Mr Potts grunted. ‘Old boat down there bein’ outfitted to go tradin’ with the ’eathens.’

  She turned on the seat and glimpsed the name Fortitude painted on the vessel’s stern, before the trap rounded a corner and they trotted along the last mile to Aunt Honoria’s pretty little cottage.

  Of course, everyone in the family knew that it wasn’t actually their great-aunt’s own house. She had no money at all, but one of her old lovers – a peer of the realm who’d died twenty years previously – had left her a bequest of £200 a year, and the tenancy of this cottage during her lifetime.

  Victoria caught the sound of Lady Honoria’s laughter coming from the drawing room as soon as she walked into the kitchen where Mrs Potts was setting out a plate of plum cake along with three cups and saucers on a tray.

  ‘Ah! What a treat it is to see you here again, Miss Vicky.’ Her wrinkled face creased further and she kissed Victoria on her cheek.

  ‘It’s always a treat to be here, Mrs Potts, but tell me quickly about my aunt. I hear that her health is failing.’

  The housekeeper gave a hoot. ‘M’lady is almost ninety years old, bless me! And just listen to her in there now flirtin’ with her gentlemen visitors. Failing? Never!’

  She placed a fourth cup on the tray, which Victoria picked up while Mrs Potts went ahead to open the door of the drawing room.

  ‘Victoria, my darling girl! So you’ve crept in by the kitchen again to surprise me!’ The old lady, wearing lavender silk and cream lace, was sitting like a queen in a high-backed chair with a handsome courtier on either side.

  Both visitors, dressed in blue naval jackets with gleaming brass buttons, stood as Victoria walked into the room and one, a tall young man with fair hair, stepped forward to take the heavy tray from her hands and set it down on the table.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. His face was bronzed by sun and wind, his eyes the brightest blue she’d ever seen, and, when he flashed a smile, Victoria caught her breath. She looked away quickly and saw the sparkle in Honoria’s eyes.

  ‘How delightful it is to have you here again,’ the old lady said and they kissed. ‘Gentlemen, let me introduce my great-niece, Miss Victoria Shelford. My dear, here before you are two of the bravest, most handsome and gallant seamen ever to sail from Devon.’ The pair stood side-by-side, smiling, and looking not in the least abashed by Lady Honoria’s extravagant words.

  ‘My dear, this is Captain Henry Latham, who has voyaged around the world a dozen times, facing hurricanes, pirates, monsters of the deep and all kinds of terrifying things.’

  The older man, whose age was perhaps fifty, gave an amused smile and acknowledged the introduction. ‘Delighted, Miss Shelford,’ he said, and took her hand. He was of stocky build, with a bluff and hearty man-of-the-world air.

  ‘And this gentle
man, dear, is Captain Latham’s nephew, Peter, who, I’ve just learned, is now also a captain – or master – or something very important. Did you happen to notice their vessel under repair in Strickland’s shipyard on your way here?’

  ‘Indeed I did see the Fortitude.’ She shook hands with him. The young man’s skin was tough, his grip firm, and his second smile was just as heart-jolting as the first. Her fingers seemed unwilling to lose contact with his. ‘May I ask, Captain—’

  He interrupted. ‘Sorry, Miss Shelford, there can only be one captain on board a ship, and that’s my uncle. Yes, I’ve just received my master’s papers, but I’ll be sailing alongside him as first officer.’ Did she imagine it, or did his pressure on her hand increase momentarily before he released it?

  ‘Oh, I understand.’ She wriggled her fingers to restore their circulation and, with a sudden need to busy herself, lifted the teapot and began filling the cups. ‘And where will you be sailing off to?’

  ‘We’re heading to the East Indies.’ Peter picked up the first cup and handed it to Lady Honoria with a courtly bow. ‘I’ve never sailed in those waters, but this old sea dog knows them well.’ He and the captain exchanged a warm look. ‘I’ve been working on Yankee clippers for the last five years, but my uncle and I always had a plan to go into partnership one day and buy a trading vessel of our own.’

  ‘How exciting. I wish every success to you and the Fortitude.’ Victoria took the chair he was holding for her and when her teacup rattled on its saucer she was surprised to find how unsteady her hand had become. ‘How long do you expect to be away from England?’

  Captain Henry answered. ‘These trading voyages usually take about two years, Miss Shelford. I’ve sailed to the Spice Islands several times and the shipowners have always made a healthy profit when we took out a cargo from our British iron foundries and brought back a hold full of silk, tea, exotic timbers, and anything else that commands a high price here.’

  ‘And so now you, yourselves, have become shipowners. How splendid.’ Victoria was aware that the nephew hadn’t taken his gaze from her face. ‘And when is the Fortitude due to sail?’

  ‘It will be some time yet before the shipwrights have finished and we get the masts up,’ Peter answered, moving his chair closer to hers. ‘After that, we need to find a crew, get the ship rigged, then make a run down the Channel to see how she handles in the Atlantic swell.’

  Aunt Honoria smiled at the men. ‘It all sounds most exciting. I’m sure Victoria would love to see the work going on at the shipyard, wouldn’t you, dear?’

  ‘We’d be honoured to introduce you to the Fortitude, Miss Shelford,’ the captain said, ‘though I must warn you that with shipwrights still crawling all over her, it won’t be safe to escort you on board yet.’

  ‘Thank you, I quite understand – and I promise not to get in anyone’s way. Would it be convenient if I walked down tomorrow afternoon?’

  ‘Yes, please, do come.’

  It was Peter Latham who spoke, and it was not simply his words, but the enthusiasm in his tone that sent a ball of excitement bouncing through her.

  ‘Do you know, my dear, I don’t think I’ve felt so well for months as I do at present.’ Lady Honoria chuckled while Victoria fussed about arranging her lace-trimmed pillows at bedtime. ‘Now whisper to me, m’love, have you ever before met a young man as charming and handsome as Peter Latham?’

  ‘Yes, of course I have, Aunt. London is full of handsome—’ She blushed.

  ‘But did any of them make your heart beat the way it did today when Peter Latham smiled and pulled his chair closer to yours?’

  ‘Aunt Honoria, how can you possibly know— Oh, dear, was I so obvious?’

  ‘I was delighted to see the glow that came into your eyes, dear girl.’

  Victoria perched herself on the edge of the bed. ‘A glow? No, whatever you saw in my eyes today was pure terror.’ She gave a little self-deprecating huff. ‘You know that I’m not the sort of girl who – who melts at the touch of a man, yet from the moment I met Peter Latham this afternoon, I felt myself being drawn to him. Never before in my life have I experienced such an extraordinary sensation. And, yes, it did terrify me.’

  A smile played around Honoria’s mouth. ‘Why should it do that?’

  ‘Why? Because I have met him only briefly and I’ve absolutely no idea who he is. There’s been no time to learn anything about his background, or his character, or – or—’ A flush swept into her cheeks. ‘In any case, how could I permit myself to even think of getting to know him better when he’ll be sailing away in a few weeks and not coming back for two years?’

  Honoria raised her brows and clicked her tongue.

  Victoria sniffed, then let out a long sigh. ‘Oooh! Why shouldn’t I be terrified of my emotions when Peter Latham and I have only just met and I know nothing about the kind of man he really is – and yet, despite all that, I can’t get him out of my mind. I know I’m being ridiculous. It’s all happening far too suddenly. It’s totally unreasonable.’

  ‘Oh, my poor darling, do you think that love always provides a reason?’

  ‘Well, it should, because I’d like to know why it is that, if I close my eyes, I can see him waiting for me there on the edge of a great cliff. And, yes, he’s charming and handsome and he excites me, but if I allow myself to move any closer I could very well tumble over the edge with him. And who knows what might be waiting at the bottom.’

  ‘Hmm, I see. What a sensible answer that is, Victoria. You sound just like your mother.’ Honoria squeezed her hand. ‘My darling girl, life is all about taking chances and you must never be afraid to grasp whatever joy it offers along the way. Yes, there’ll be disappointments sometimes, even sadness. But I’ve learned that the shadows have a way of making the rest of life seem all the more brilliant.’

  Victoria lay in bed that night with images of a young, handsome mariner dancing through her brain. All common sense cried out to turn around and go home quickly to the safety of London. But she knew that it would now be impossible to resist taking just one more little step towards him on that enticing edge.

  The following afternoon she almost ran to the yard where shipwrights were clambering over the vessel, hammering and sawing. Peter was working on the deck and, when he saw her coming, he scrambled over the side and down the rope ladder. They met face to face in the middle of the yard and when he smiled at her she felt a flash of fire as old as time.

  ‘I thought – actually I couldn’t believe that you’d really want to see this old ship.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I wanted to come. Yes, I wanted to come very much.’

  They searched each other’s eyes and she thought she could see her thoughts reflected in his. It was a shock to realize that he appeared to be as nervous as she was.

  They sat on an upturned box in the shade and he picked up a stick to draw diagrams in the dust as he explained the refitting that was being done on the vessel. She tried hard to concentrate, but his closeness made that difficult.

  ‘By the end of next week, it should be safe enough for you to come aboard to inspect her.’

  Why did she think that she could hear a deeper meaning in each word he uttered? Was her heart playing tricks with her mind? He walked home with her at twilight, stayed for supper, and submitted himself to a lengthy, light-hearted inquisition by Lady Honoria.

  ‘Yes, I can see that you’ve done very well to afford to buy a partnership in the Fortitude – so tell me, Peter, just what age are you? Do you have family? Brothers and sisters?’

  ‘I’m twenty six, ma’am. And no, I have no family at all – apart from Captain Latham. My father was Thomas, his brother. He was a blacksmith but, sadly, both he and my mother were taken off by an outbreak of typhoid when I was ten years old. That’s when I went to sea.’

  ‘You did? It surprises me to hear that you were able to become a sailor at such a tender age.’

  ‘I started as a ship’s boy, m’lady, and right from the start I knew
that the sea was my calling. Uncle Henry found me a place on a vessel that was captained by an officer who had a reputation for being a first-rate sailor and a fair-minded master. He worked me hard and taught me well. I have much to thank him for.’

  ‘Well?’ the old lady said, when Victoria came to her bedroom later to bid her goodnight. ‘Are you still terrified of slipping over the edge of that cliff with a man named Peter Latham? From what he revealed this evening, I believe him to have a fine, steadfast character and a promising future. Would you not agree?’

  ‘Oh, Aunt, I think – I think I will never again meet anyone like him.’ She flung her arms wide and spun childishly. ‘I’ve been in love several times, you know. Well, I think I have. It was always very pleasant and enjoyable, but what I felt towards Peter the moment we met, was something quite different. Utterly different! It was as if I’d been suddenly gripped by some savage, glorious madness.’

  And nothing happened in the following weeks to alter her feelings. She ran to the shipyard every afternoon and learned to climb up and down the precarious rope ladder dangling from the deck.

  Once aboard, Peter showed her the workings of the vessel from the pumps and the galley, to the poop deck at the stern, which was the captain’s exclusive domain. The officers’ cabins were below this, with a handsomely panelled navigation room built across the stern. In here, Victoria was eventually able to make herself useful by unpacking boxes of books and rolls of charts and maps, along with navigation instruments, and storing them away in their specially fitted drawers and shelves.

  Peter walked home with her each afternoon and often stayed for supper with Lady Honoria. ‘No, no, don’t thank me, Peter, my dear,’ she said, ‘it’s a pleasure to share your company. It makes me feel young again.’

  Each evening Victoria stood with him at the garden gate as he was leaving and, while the farewell kisses they exchanged grew increasingly heated, he resisted her unspoken invitation to explore deeper intimacy. They spoke of love, but it was she who first mentioned marriage.

 

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