A Shadow's Bliss

by Patricia Veryan

  She touched his shoulder, and said gently, "I am truly sorry that Lord Green treated you so badly. You were magnificent, and I shall see to it that you are rewarded for…" She faltered to a halt as she felt him stiffen.

  Not looking up, he said, "Thank you. You had best go, ma'am."

  She had offended and had been politely set down. Torn between astonishment and vexation, she said, "Yes," and took a step towards Chanteuse, who was cropping the turf contentedly. But she could not bring herself to leave him in such a way. She thought, 'I suppose I was clumsy, and should have known the poor man still has some pride.' She turned back. "Are you all right?"

  "Perfectly. I thank you."

  But his voice was less sure and he hadn't once looked at her. She crossed to take his chin in her hand and tilt his head up.

  My lord's whip had left a long crimson welt from his left temple to the corner of his mouth, and another blow had reopened the cut on his brow. "Oh, my!" she gasped, and in an attempt to hide her rage and the sense of being partly responsible because one of her father's guests had done this, she said with a tremulous smile, "I see I must sacrifice another kerchief. I seem to spend a good deal of my time tending your hurts."

  Although he had allowed her to raise his head, his lashes were lowered and he still would not meet her eyes. He said expressionlessly, "You are very kind. But—but I can manage now. There is no need for—for you to stay."

  "Oh, none," she responded, his humility only adding to her mortification. "I am very sure you would be happy to bleed all the way home. Dear me, this will not do. Perhaps I must form the habit of carrying one of my papa's handkerchiefs with me if you will persist in your show of humble martyrdom!"

  At that his eyes opened wide, and a flood of colour lit his scratched and dirty face. "Show!" he exclaimed. "What could I have—"

  "Oh, I know. I know." Amazed that she should have made such a waspish remark, she flashed a repentant smile at him. " Tis the very thing I said to Lord Green, is it not? That you dare not resist a peer of the realm. And, do you know, for a moment I was sure you meant to give him back his own."

  A twinkle came into his eyes. "So was I."

  "Thank heaven you did not! Though I cannot help but marvel you were able to restrain yourself."

  The twinkle faded. He muttered, "I have not the right to—to raise my hand 'gainst any man."

  "Of course you have! 'Twould be folly were you to strike an aristocrat, of course, but—" She bit her lip, and knowing that had sounded patronising, she added hastily, "Though I'd not be surprised to find that you're as well born as Lord Green."

  "A dubious distinction, madam." The dry response was out before he could check it.

  Again, Jennifer had caught a glimpse of another man. She burst into laughter, her merriment warming his captive heart and bringing his slow smile into being.

  "Oh, Jack," she said breathlessly. "How he would rage if he'd heard us! Here," she gave him the gory handkerchief, "this will help a little. Now—What are you about, sir?"

  He stood. "I must gather—gather my—"

  "Your wits!" She tugged at his sleeve pulling him back down again and sitting beside him. "You are scarce able to stand straight, and white as any sheet, and small wonder! When you have rested a little you shall ride Chanteuse as far as Triad, and—" Relieved to see his lips twitch at this prospect, she said laughingly, "Ah, you can still smile, thank goodness!"

  "I think 'twould make a quaint picture, ma'am, for me to ride sidesaddle, while you walked! A few minutes rest and

  I will be very well, I promise you. If you would be so—so very kind as to send someone here with my knapsack, I—"

  "I will be so very kind as to tell you to stop trying to be rid of me."

  Be rid of her? He stared at her speechlessly. He ached from head to foot, his arm throbbed miserably, and he was crushingly tired, but to be near her, to be able to talk with her alone without shocked or disapproving glances, was joy beyond measure.

  He had, decided Jennifer, what Caro Morris would term "speaking eyes." She said firmly, "Oh, you may stare, but I know very well that the instant I go away you will start bustling about, pretending to be some mythical being, above such mortal things as pain and exhaustion."

  "Lord Green was evidently able to overcome such weaknesses."

  "Lord Green is twice your size and has never known what it is to go hungry, much less practically starve for—for heaven only knows how long! Besides which, all he had to do was hang onto a rock until he was rescued. A far cry from what you very bravely achieved. Now, sir, although I am very willing to sit and make sure you do as you are bid, I'm not willing to discuss that—nobleman, so we will talk of something else, if you please."

  Briefly, the quirkish grin touched his mouth. He sketched a bow, and said meekly, "As you wish, Miss Jennifer. Would you like to comment upon my—building materials?"

  Slight as it had been, the bow was rendered with unconscious grace, and reinforced her belief that he was of gentle birth. She said, "Aha! You took my advice, I see. Then that is for your little bird? How is he? Have you given him a name?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Duster will go along better when I've made him a proper cage. And so shall I."

  Her eyebrows lifted in a silent question, and he explained, "I fashioned him a makeshift swing, which I think he likes, for he becomes agitated if I take it out. But he has a withered claw, you know, and now and then—usually in the middle of the night—he seems to lose his grip on the swing and goes crashing down, and then rushes about creating a great deal of noise and confusion."

  Jennifer laughed. "Whereby your sleep is interrupted, is it?"

  "So much so that the next swing will be far more sturdy, and lower!"

  "I cannot credit that so small a creature could cause such a fuss, Jack. Do you not—" Interrupting herself, she asked, "Were you christened Jack? Or is it just a nickname?"

  He said slowly, "My name is Jonathan, ma'am. And I seem to recall someone… calling me 'Johnny.'"

  "Someone? A man? A lady?"

  "A lady."

  'A woman—and likely he is wed,' she thought, and wondered why that possibility had not occurred to her before.

  Jonathan stared blankly at his scattered driftwood, and Jennifer frowned at Chanteuse.

  After a brief silence, she asked rather brusquely, "Why did you tell Lord Green that you had climbed up the cliff?"

  "Because I had, ma'am."

  She shook her head. "Come now, Ja—Jonathan. My brother Royce has climbed in Italy and is considered most skilled, yet he told me there is no way up the cliff face north of Devil's Ladder, without a man uses climbing equipment."

  His lips tightened, but he said nothing.

  "Won't you tell me what really happened?" she persisted, thinking that the children would be punished if they were responsible.

  "I told you what happened, Miss Jennifer."

  Taken aback by the touch of hauteur in his voice, she demanded, "Look at me."

  He met her eyes with a cool and steady gaze. It went against common sense for her to believe this ever more incomprehensible man, but she found she could no longer doubt him. Awed, she murmured, "You must be a superb climber. Even so, the risk was dreadful. Why ever would you do so mad a thing?"

  His eyes fell.

  "It is as I thought!" she exclaimed. "Those boys were tormenting you again."

  "No. But—please, do not ask, Miss Jennifer. See, I am better. Allow me to throw you up. You will be missed by now."

  She really was being dismissed! The effrontery of the man! Irked, she said, "Oh, very well," and as she settled herself into the saddle, added, 'if you must be so surly, I will—"

  His hand closed on her boot. A pair of ardent grey eyes gazed up at her, and he declared with passionate intensity, "Never that! 'Fore heaven, I would die sooner than—" He broke off with a gasp, then drew back, and stammered, " 'Tis only that—It is something I try not to—I do not like to—to speak of."

  But he
had betrayed himself. More moved than she would have thought possible, she felt her face flame, which was ridiculous. Confused by her reaction, and not a little embarrassed, she turned away and gazed out to sea. "Oh, look!" she exclaimed, admiringly. "What a great ship! Such a lovely sight!"

  He watched her slim figure, the feather that curled down beside her smooth cheek, the little boot that peeped from under her habit, and he said quietly, "Very lovely," then lowered his eyes quickly as she turned to him.

  "You're not looking!" she said accusingly. "Johnny, you must! She is under full sail!"

  "Yes, for the breeze has come up."

  "She is a ship of the line, do you agree?"

  He stared fixedly at the ground. "More likely she is just a—a merchantman."

  "Never! I demand that you inspect her and admit I am right! She carries that new sail they call the—oh, what is it? Off the bowsprit, I mean." Finding that he still had not turned his head, she tugged his hair gently. "Why must you be so stubborn, wretched creature? You will know what 'tis called. See there."

  His glance was very brief, and his voice sharp with strain when he answered, "It is called the jib."

  Having dwelt always on this wild coast, the sea and ships were so much a part of her life that it had never occurred to her that anyone might view them in a different light. With sudden intuitive comprehension she murmured, "My heavens! So that is why you waited for a thick fog before you would go down to the beach for your driftwood! You fear the sea! Did the tide come in while you were on the beach? Is that why you made that frightful climb? Johnny—is that why?"

  With a muffled exclamation he met her eyes, and said as if the words were torn from him, "Very likely. I don't remember. I was on the beach one moment and—and next thing I knew, I was halfway up the cliff. My—my mind, you see, so often plays me false. Your brother was right, Miss Britewell. You should… steer clear of this—this shadow of a man!"

  And he turned and left a lady who was alternately indignant and sympathetic, and more perplexed than ever.

  Chapter 5

  Howland Britewell stared at Lord Green in mystification. "A spy?" he echoed. "You jest, I think. The man has not two brains to rub together. He don't even know who he is!"

  "Does he not?" Green threw a quick glance to the door of the large apartment that was Howland's bedchamber and private parlour, then thrust a knapsack and a length of frayed leather at the younger man. "See here!"

  Howland inspected the items curiously. "Is this what he used to haul you up? It does but confirm what I said. None but a lunatic would trust the lives of two men to such a botch!"

  "The knots, you fool! The knots!"

  To be addressed in such a way did not please Mr. Britewell. He said sardonically, "They appear to have held. Of itself, remarkable."

  "Stap and spit me! Are you blind? They are nautical knots, or I'm a confounded Dutchman!" Green stamped to the window and back again. "Your precious village idiot is—or was—a seafaring man!"

  Beginning to be very bored, Howland pointed out, "This, being a coastal region, is home to all manner of sailors, ex-sailors, smugglers, pirates—"

  "Do not patronise me, damn your eyes!"

  "My apologies, sir." A muscle rippled in Howland's jaw, but he was in no position to antagonise this uncouth individual, and he contrived to keep his temper. "If you're right, I'd judge him a deserter off some navy frigate, or an East Indiaman perchance. Why you should see a threat in that possibility is beyond me."

  "I see a threat because he ain't what he seems! He may cringe and creep about like a looby, but when he come down after me he was mighty sure of himself. Ordered me about as though I were a blasted servant!"

  Inwardly amused, Howland said gravely, "Still, he got you to safety. For which you must be grateful, my lord."

  Green's response was as crude as it was explicit. He thrust his inflamed face at Howland, and hissed, "Shall I be grateful if he is come to undo our plans?"

  Leaning forward in his chair and speaking as softly, Howland said, "If aught has leaked out it has not come from me! I've told no one of your discovery. Not even my father. If you think the Horse Guards suspect—"

  At once Green's fierce little eyes became guarded. Drawing back, he said irritably, "Did I say he was from Whitehall? How if he is an Excise spy, would you then be as nonchalant?"

  Howland shook his head. "You really must not take me for a complete fool, sir. I'm fully aware that whatever he has come to, there's no doubt Crazy Jack has known better days. Nor could there have been any doubt but that he was in desperate straits when our witch rescued him. The clod near died. His body carries numerous scars to attest to the rough treatment he was given, and they ain't painted on, you may be assured. Certainly, had he been a Riding Officer his comrades would have come to his aid sooner than stand by and see him expire. Perchance he's a poltroon who ran from the enemy. Or a rake who ran off with his colonel's mistress. Whatever the case, he's a derelict now; broken in mind and spirit. Not worth a pauper's grave."

  Unconvinced, Green tossed his bulk onto a groaning sofa and tugged at his pouting lower lip, "What more do you know of him? He's been here only a short while, by what I hear."

  "Six months, about. He was judged possessed of the evil eye in St. Just, and whipped from town at the cart tail. He fared no better at Zenor, where they suspected him of being a wrecker, and stoned him from the area. That was a year or so back. More recently, he found work in Garrison Pen—the hamlet is gone now, buried under blowing sands. Some miners objected when one of their women took a fancy to him, and nigh beat him to death. That's when he dragged himself here, and the widow took him in."

  Green, who had listened intently to this unhappy history, said a triumphant, "So you mistrusted him sufficiently to put out an enquiry!"

  "And found him to be no more than he claims. May I hope your mind is at rest, my lord?"

  "You may not! I mislike the way your sister smiles on him."

  Whatever Howland might think privately, he permitted no member of his family to be criticised by an outsider. He said coldly, "Miss Britewell pities him, besides which she is pleased by the work the block has done for her. If you suppose she would for one instant look with favour on a mindless vagrant—"

  "I'm not so daft. But he plays on her sympathies, and the lady has a tender heart. Is one of the reasons I want her for my bride."

  Watching his companion's leer with revulsion, Howland leaned back in his chair and asked smoothly, "How does your courtship progress, my lord?"

  "She delights to tease me." Green chuckled. "Saucy chit. She plays her cards exceeding well, affecting to be disinterested. Oh, never fear, I'm not deceived. You haven't seen my castle, m'boy, but I promise you 'tis one of the show-places of Hampshire. I hold my court there, y'know. Put the fear of God into the miscreants who come before me. I fancy I could show you a hundred ladies who have dropped the handkerchief, for my fortune is large, and I've a way with the fair sex, besides. The women like a forceful man." He winked into Howland's rather set smile, and went on expansively, "No, no. The female don't draw breath who wouldn't give her soul to be Lady Hibbard Green, and mistress of Buckler Castle. Your pretty sister likes to play coquette, and I've no objection, for I enjoy a good chase, so you've nothing to fear on that head."

  Howland was reminded of some of the rumours he'd heard about his lordship's treatment of the hapless prisoners who were haled before him. For just an instant he could not command his voice. Then he said, "I'm glad you are a patient man, sir."

  "To a point!" Green's good humour vanished, and he said coldly, "But I want that dock, Britewell. And I want your father's signature on my deed. I've no doubt the old man delays, thinking to run up the price, but—"

  "He delays because he don't like the prospect of an ugly dock on our beach, and ships unloading supplies at all hours!"

  "Well, he'd best make up his mind. Everyone believes the Blue Rose Mine to be played out and worthless. He's getting a generous
price for such a property."

  Britewell said with soft emphasis, "Yes, if it was such a property. But if he knew what you and your alchemist have found in there…!"

  "Then he would run up the price and likely bring in a flood of other bidders. And you and I, my dear fellow, would stand to lose a fortune! Besides which"—his lordship's smile was unpleasant—"I would have to demand immediate settlement on the very considerable sum you owe me."

  Britewell's handsome features flushed with anger. "Oh, all right! All right!" he said sulkily. "I'll go down and have a word with my father."

  Standing also, Green accompanied him to the door. "Choose your words carefully, friend," he advised. "Sir Vinson has such a prejudice 'gainst gaming. What a pity if I were obliged to shatter his faith in you."

  Approaching her father's study, Jennifer heard irate voices and she paused for a moment, listening, Howland was there, but she could not detect my lord Green's harsh accents. She scratched at the door and went inside.

  Both men stood at once, and Sir Vinson came around his big desk to take her hand and scan her anxiously. "You have had a frightening experience, child. I wonder you can look so composed."

  "And why you did not come home with Lord Green," murmured Howland, all innocence.

  "Yes indeed. We worried about you." Sir Vinson guided Jennifer to a chair and pulled another close to her. "His lordship should not have left you alone after such a shock."

  Howland's eyebrows went up. "Were you alone then, Jennifer?"

  Ignoring him, she said to her father, "I stayed to help poor Jack. I expect his lordship will have told you, sir, that he fell from the cliff and that Jack climbed down and—"

  "And also claims to have first climbed all the way up." Howland laughed. "What a farradiddle!"

  Sir Vinson's fine eyes widened. "He never said such a thing? Oh, well. I suppose the poor fellow can scarce be held accountable."