Straw in the Wind

by Janet Woods

  She’d thought of her aunt in the copse just a week ago when she’d run from Mr Leighton, and Serafina knew she’d been running away from the old woman too.

  ‘They told me I was unclean,’ she whispered.

  Now she couldn’t deny what was in her blood. She could feel it inside her, pulling at her . . . and in the nature of the landscape around her, as if they were tied together and her soul had a connection with it. It was no good running from it because it was part of who she was. The good thing was she was no longer afraid of it, and that alone had a cleansing effect.

  ‘You remember, don’t you?’

  He could see inside her, make a connection to where it mattered. ‘I remember that my name is Serafina and that a long time ago my ancestors were gypsies. At least, I think I do. You will tell me the rest, no doubt, and I’ll decide whether in my heart I am what you want me to be.’

  ‘I spoke to your sister Marianne, and she wants you to come home. She has sent you a gift.’

  Home? She closed her eyes . . . was home the place where she’d been created in an act of love . . . or of hate perhaps. If so, it was the place where she’d been born, with mother, father, sisters . . . death, grief and . . . pain, that had become a lost memory.

  Or was home being with someone she loved and who loved her in return? Someone like . . . Adam. But hadn’t she learned that hoping for too much from people could disappoint?

  ‘Tell me of Charlotte . . . what does she want of me?’

  He hesitated. ‘Charlotte has shouldered a great deal of responsibility over what happened in the past. When your mother died it hurt her badly, and she needed to hate somebody for what had happened.’

  ‘Dear God . . . it’s me she hates, isn’t it? All this time Charlotte has hated me.’

  He didn’t deny it. ‘She despises the man who hopes you are his daughter. It’s hard for Charlotte to reconcile herself to the fact that you might be alive after all this time. She knows she’s being unfair and is trying not to be. She has much to commend her.’

  ‘The seafarer . . . what’s his name?’

  ‘Erasmus.’

  ‘What’s he like?’

  ‘Straightforward, and a bit taciturn. He’s been at sea since he was a child. As a result he’s superstitious. He’s of above-average height, and muscular. Erasmus has eyes that can see a long way. He enjoys the sea and his ship Daisy Jane, and has only ever loved one woman in his life . . . and she happened to be married to someone else. He would have given up the sea for your mother, I think.’

  ‘I pictured him as a pirate with flying whiskers and a dagger between his teeth, like the murdering rascal Blackbeard.’

  Adam’s chuckle curled softly into her ear. ‘Erasmus could very well be a pirate at heart, but he’s an honest man. Don’t build your hopes up too high . . . you bear very little resemblance to the Honeyman sisters as far as I can see, and there’s still doubt about who fathered you. All the same, you’re entitled to claim the birthright of knowing your name and where you came from.’

  ‘But I could be rejected all over again.’

  ‘There is that possibility.’

  When tears began to trickle down her cheeks she was pulled gently into his arms. ‘You will not be rejected by me, Serafina . . . never by me. I promise.’

  Adam had learned on his recent visit to Poole that even if Serafina refused to meet them at the last minute, there was no way she would escape Marianne now. Marianne was eager to meet Serafina and she couldn’t understand why she hadn’t accompanied him back to Somerset right there and then, to introduce herself.

  Adam smiled as he remembered the scene . . .

  Nick had laughed at the notion. ‘Have patience, my sweet. What about Alexander? He needs you . . . I need you. We’ll be lost without you. Besides, Charlotte’s new baby is due to arrive any day now, and God forbid that you should miss the event because you’d never forgive yourself. The girl must be introduced to Erasmus first.’

  Marianne’s blue eyes had beguiled him. ‘Why must she, Adam? I’m so dying to see her.’

  ‘Nick’s right,’ he said. ‘This can’t be rushed. Serafina is very unsettled about all of this. She’s happy where she is, and she might take it into her head to bolt.’

  ‘How can she be happy? She’s pretending to be, because she’s scared she might turn out to be someone else – that other girl you told us about, the one who belonged to our aunt’s servant. Mary someone.’

  ‘Mary Fenn.’

  ‘It was more likely that Mary tried to steal Serafina’s identity because there might have been something in it for her. Then she died and left Serafina all mixed up.’

  ‘They were too young for that sort of subterfuge, just little girls, friends who played imaginary games together.’

  Which reminded Adam of something he needed to check while he was here. ‘Do you know the name of your aunt’s lawyer, or have a copy of her last will and testament?’

  ‘Lor, no. The will is probably at Harbour House, unless pa destroyed it.’ Her eyes began to shine. ‘Is it important? Charlotte might allow me to dig around in the attic . . . though she might not. She’s gone infuriatingly dignified on me and is secretly hoping you’ll fail so she can say, I told you so. You should go and ask her yourself, Adam. You can be irresistible when you turn on the charm, you know.’

  He grinned when Nick winked at him, and turned her delicious little nose away from that particular scent. He was not about to indulge her in any sisterly rivalry. ‘Not at the moment. I can soon find a copy of the will, and anything else that had been duplicated and filed. I think acceptance of Serafina might come down to family recognition in the end, which is all the more reason to take things slowly with her.’

  ‘Nonsense, Adam. In my heart I know the girl is Serafina Honeyman, and so do you, else you wouldn’t be here.’

  ‘Or a Thornton,’ Nick thought to add, something that had brought him a quick gleam of a smile from his wife.

  ‘Or a Thornton,’ she agreed. ‘I keep forgetting that we’re all interrelated. I must send her something nice to make her feel welcome.’

  Nick tipped Marianne’s chin up and placed a kiss on her mouth. ‘Go to the emporium and pick out a nice gift for the girl, so she knows she’s welcome. Adam can take it with him when he leaves.’

  Marianne kissed Nick in return. ‘I’d miss you if I went away, even for a day, Nicky darling, and of course I must be here for Charlotte’s lying in, so you needn’t worry that I’ll run off with Adam.’ She’d kissed Adam’s cheek. ‘You must tell me all about Serafina, Adam. What colour are her eyes?’

  ‘Brown . . . they’re large with the longest of lashes, and she has dark straight hair and the sweetest face with a pointed chin and a captivating little dimple to the left of her mouth when she smiles. She’s a little bit taller than you, but shorter than Charlotte, and is . . .’ Without him thinking about it, his hands outlined her in the air. ‘Neat . . . but womanly, I suppose.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ Nick offered, grinning. ‘I like her already, and you obviously have an eye for the technical details. Now those are dispensed with, what’s the girl like?’

  Marianne offered Nick a frown. ‘He means, who does Serafina resemble the most, the Honeyman family or the Thorntons?’

  Adam shrugged. ‘That you must decide for yourself. I see no resemblance to any member of either family that I’ve met so far.’

  ‘Oh, never mind that now, there’s bound to be some resemblance, it just won’t be noticeable until we’re together. You said that Serafina is working as a servant. Is there anything she needs?’

  ‘Just about everything. Apart from what Mr Leighton supplies in the way of uniform she has very little else. One best dress and a few books I believe.’

  Wrong answer, since Marianne obviously decided that everything was what she’d send Serafina, and she sent the maid running to fetch her coat and bonnet and set off with great haste to shop.

  Nick roared with laughter when she returned a
nd he set eyes on the pile of clothing and accessories that had arrived back with her in the emporium carriage. Alexander threw himself at the parcels, giving squeals of delight as he ripped the packaging from them.

  Nick picked his son up, sat him on his lap and gave him his watch and chain to play with. ‘Do you think Adam’s a packhorse, Aria?’ Dark eyes sought him out. ‘You know, it serves you right, really. By now you should know better than tell Aria that the girl has nothing.’

  Adam knew he wouldn’t be able to carry it all, and gazed ruefully at it. He didn’t want to upset Marianne. Nick was ruthless in helping him out, though. In the face of his wife’s protests he ferreted out the ornaments, several pairs of slippers, a travelling beauty case, picnic set and some half a dozen dresses, books, mirrors in frames and bed linen. They were able to pack the rest into two wicker baskets.

  Nick picked up a pair of silky pantelettes with pink rosettes and ribbons from the pile. He ran them through his hand and gazed at them, grinning. ‘These would look good on you, my love.’

  She blushed, and half-laughing, snatched the garment from her husband’s hands and threw them back at him. They landed on his head with the legs dangling down the front as she scolded, ‘Nicky Thornton! Not in front of Adam, you’re embarrassing him.’

  Nick drew the legs aside and gazed through them at Alexander.

  ‘Boo!’ Alexander yelled at him, and began to laugh when Nick tossed him in the air and caught him again.

  ‘Oh, I imagine Adam has seen a pair of pantelettes before, and will see them again before he’s an old man.’

  This time it was Alexander who parted the legs, and he laughed in anticipation when Nick’s lips pursed.

  ‘Boo!’ Marianne snatched the garment from Nick’s head and scolded him over Alexander’s giggles. ‘Behave yourselves, the pair of you. Nick, you should be setting him a good example,’ to which warning the males of the family paid no attention whatsoever.

  ‘I’ve never seen them displayed so becomingly like that; you should wear them more often, Nick,’ Adam said with a laugh, and got a cushion in the face for his trouble.

  Marianne found room for the pantelettes on top of the largest of the two wicker baskets and she and Alexander sat astride it while Nick buckled a strap tightly around it. Marianne gazed doubtfully at him afterwards. ‘Two of them does seem rather a lot for one man to carry. Perhaps we should go through it all again.’

  ‘After you fought me over every scrap that went into them?’ Nick said in disbelief.

  Marianne giggled and batted her eyelashes at her husband. ‘I’m teasing.’

  Enjoying the banter between the Thornton couple, Adam grinned. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage with the help of porters.’

  From there Adam had made a quick visit to Dorchester and had learned the name of the lawyer who was the trustee of the orphanage.

  The man’s initial suspicion was dispelled when Adam told him that he wasn’t interested in challenging the Jarvis will. ‘I’m trying to prove the identity of a young woman, believed to be a relative of the Honeyman family. She was given into the care of Constance Jarvis, then brought up by a family called Fenn. It would have been about eighteen years ago.’

  ‘Ah . . . my father would have handled that one.’ He gave him a sharp look. ‘Will anything in your enquiries be detrimental to the orphanage?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so, and that’s not my aim.’

  ‘Then I’ll set one of the clerks to find a copy. My father was very meticulous with detail. What is this girl’s name?’

  ‘Serafina Honeyman.’

  He looked thoughtful. ‘The two Honeyman nieces inherited under the Jarvis will, as I recall. I was given to understand that their legacies were squandered by their father. Where does this girl of yours fit in?’

  ‘There was the third daughter born to the family, one whose paternity was in dispute. She was believed to be dead by the family, but there is no record of her death as far as I can find. She has a strong claim to family kinship, including being named after Constance Jarvis. Serafina was her second name.’

  ‘Ah yes, I thought the name was slightly familiar, and I’ve heard the rumours, of course. If you could come back in an hour I’ll see what I can find for you. The Antelope serves a good lunch.’

  The man’s face was wreathed in smiles when Adam returned to the office. ‘There was an addendum to the Jarvis will, added not long before Mrs Jarvis died – she was ill at the time, and it concerns the young woman you mentioned. The Fenns were trusted and loyal servants. Serafina was adopted by the Fenn family just before Mrs Jarvis died. In exchange Mrs Jarvis provided the family with accommodation, a farm, which would also bring them in an income. They were provided with cash for livestock, and a trust fund from which to draw an allowance for Serafina’s needs.

  ‘The property deeds were drawn up in the name of Christopher Fenn. If Serafina died the property would become his. If he died before his wife, then Serafina would inherit, and the family could remain living on the estate and drawing an income from it until Serafina reached the age of twenty, when she would also inherit the principal sum of the trust. After that, her estate was to go to her descendants. If she died without issue, the estate was to become the property of the orphanage.’ His eyes scrutinized the paper. ‘That’s fairly straightforward.’

  When Adam nodded and said, ‘It seems so,’ the man smiled.

  ‘There is a letter in the file from a local solicitor stating that three people died from a cholera epidemic in that house. It was Mrs Fenn and her two natural children. Mr Fenn is still living at the property with the girl and providing for her by drawing on the trust account. It’s all above board. I’m afraid your young lady might be imposing a fraudulent claim, sir.’

  ‘There was a woman there when I visited, but she was older, about thirty. As for my young lady, she is making no claim at all . . . yet,’ he thought to add, because Serafina might well decide that she was entitled to the property and put up a fight for it. Just now, Adam could do without this extra complication. ‘At the moment I’m trying to establish her parentage for a would-be relative. If you would listen to what I have to say, you can then decide who is the fraud. To start with, I’d beg to differ with the solicitor who sent you the information regarding the graves. There are four in the cemetery, including that of Christopher Fenn, husband of Emmy Fenn, who was also the father to her deceased children. They all died within the same two-week period. I have seen the grave with my own eyes.’

  The man’s eyes sharpened. ‘And the man living on the estate and drawing on the trust fund?’

  ‘His name is Tyler Fenn. He claims to be a relative.’ Adam told the man all he knew, then finished by saying, ‘If you don’t mind my advice, I’d suggest that the matter should be properly investigated by the county constabulary.’

  ‘I think you are right, since it seems that something dishonest is going on, and it might involve the local legal representative. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, Mr Chapman. Perhaps your young woman has a valid claim against the estate under the will, after all. If she doesn’t, the orphanage will put it to good use.’

  ‘The exchange has been enlightening for both of us, I think. I’ll leave it in your capable hands, but would be obliged, should you discover anything that might prove useful to my client, if you’d let me know of it.’ Adam handed the man his card. ‘I’ll be quite happy to share my knowledge with the authorities, but would rather shield my young lady at this moment.’

  He’d just readied himself to leave the district when a message came from the Hardy home that the expected arrival was well on its way, so he waited, and was relieved to hear that a healthy son had been born, who would be called James.

  Now back at Leighton Manor Adam wondered what Serafina would make of the pantelettes . . . especially since he had every intention of enjoying the sight of her wearing them, one day. He doubted if she’d ever had much in the way of women’s fripperies.

  But alth
ough he’d already made his intentions perfectly clear where Serafina was concerned it wouldn’t be wise to make a move towards her – not until this business was settled. She had enough to deal with at the moment.

  So he took a step back and handed her his handkerchief.

  ‘I seem to be doing a lot of weeping, lately,’ she said, mopping at her eyes and trying to get some normality back into her voice.

  ‘The tears make your eyes look luminous.’

  ‘Not just red?’ and there was a forlorn mockery of a laugh from her. Her curiosity was raised though, when Joseph brought the second basket in.

  ‘That’s heavy, allow me to take it from you,’ Adam said to the struggling Joseph, and he lowered the burden of the heavy basket to the floor.

  ‘Goodness! We’d better move them before Mr Leighton arrives home and trips over them. What’s in them?’

  Adam’s lips twitched at the thought of one particular intimate garment. ‘I have no idea. They are a gift to you from Marianne Thornton. Would you like me to take them through to your quarters?’

  ‘A gift? Why should she send me a gift when she doesn’t even know me?’

  ‘Because Marianne is a generous person who wants you to feel welcome, and who is so longing to meet you that her husband had to tie her to a chair to stop her following after me.’

  Serafina laughed. ‘So why do I feel so embarrassed by her generosity?’

  ‘Because you’re an ungrateful creature with no graces, and I wonder why I’m bothering with you.’

  ‘Why are you?’

  Because I love you, Serafina, he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the courage, not yet, when all her defences were still up and she was bristling with caution. ‘Because it’s my profession to bother with you. I’m being paid to.’

  He caught the tail end of the grin she tried to hide, one which said she knew he was lying. ‘Oh, I see. Thank you, Adam; are you staying for a while?’