Danice Allen Page 21

  But regardless of what may have happened between Jack and Miss Darlington, the fact remained that his brother had made a commitment to Charlotte Batsford. Obviously Miss Darlington could know nothing of Jack’s betrothal, so did she expect Jack to make an honest woman of her … so to speak … if in fact he had compromised her?

  And did she love him as he appeared to love her? To unfamiliar eyes, Jack might not act like he was in love, but Julian knew his brother, and he could read the emotions behind the charming, devil-may-care facade. But could anyone truly form a lasting attachment for another after just three days together?

  Julian sighed. Leave it to Jack to find just the right sort of circumstances and just the right kind of girl to fall in love with in three days … but at the absolute worst possible time! Jack was engaged. He was promised to another. And there was no honorable way around it.

  So when had Jack got his memory back? Or had he ever really lost it at all? Was he pretending amnesia now to stay with Amanda and ensure her safety… or had he decided that marriage was not for him and therefore avoiding Charlotte?

  Despite all these natural speculations, Julian couldn’t help but give his brother the benefit of the doubt. He believed that Jack had indeed been afflicted with amnesia as a result of the head injury and the fever. And while he was keeping his recovery to himself, Julian believed Jack was doing it for the sake of staying with Miss Darlington and not as a way of avoiding Charlotte. Julian believed Jack had every intention of returning to London to marry Charlotte, but at what cost to him … and to Miss Darlington?

  Julian frowned. And, ultimately, at what cost to Charlotte?

  Julian knew Jack was not in love with Charlotte, that he had never been in love with Charlotte. But then Jack had never been truly in love with anyone. Julian had been happy enough to discern a certain fondness Jack had for Charlotte; he was not so romantic and naive to expect more from his jaded brother. But Charlotte was too good a girl to be married to a man who was actually head over heels in love with someone else.

  Better she should marry him, Julian thought grimly. Better to be married to someone who had never been in love in his life. The only passion Julian was familiar with was the physical kind he enjoyed in the discreet and elegant confines of his current mistress’s abode in town.

  He thought of Pauline and grimaced, an unwilling reaction that came frequently these days whenever he thought of his mistress. He’d leased the house for her for a year, and after six months he was already tired of her. She was so artificial, so practiced. He longed for innocence, naturalness.

  Julian studied Miss Darlington and realized that she possessed the qualities of innocence and naturalness, and those qualities had helped capture Jack’s affections.

  Julian scowled at his boots. Charlotte had the same qualities. And Jack was going to have to forget Miss Darlington and pledge himself for life to another. It was that simple.

  He wished he could discuss all these concerns with Jack, ask all the questions that nagged at him and be sure of a straight answer, but Jack was being skittish. He made sure he and Julian were never alone, never in a position to enjoy a private conversation. Obviously Jack wasn’t ready to confide in him. Although his patience was sorely tried, Julian was resigned to waiting till his brother was prepared to talk.

  Chapter 14

  It was late afternoon by the time they reached the turnoff to Thorney Island, which was actually a small pouch-shaped peninsula of land jutting out into a large natural harbor. From the north it appeared heavily wooded and very secluded from the mainland.

  The sense of privacy about the place was abetted by the rocky, rutted roads that led into what looked like a labyrinth of trees. The rain had finally ceased and the ceiling of dark clouds had broken up somewhat, but with dusk coming on and the fog creeping in, the prospect of venturing into such a dark maze of vegetation was still not altogether agreeable to Amanda.

  They had made inquiries at the Bull and Bush Inn at Prinstead, the last village before the Thorney Island exit from the main road. The innkeep told them that the entire island was private property belonging to an absentee landlord. He also told them that he only knew of one structure on the land called Thornfield Cottage, which was lived in by an old woman by the name of Grimshaw.

  Amanda was already aware of these facts, of course, but she was hoping the innkeeper knew something more. However, when she inquired if Mrs. Grimshaw lived alone on the island, the innkeeper declared that he’d never known Mrs. Grimshaw to keep company with anyone. She was a loner, an odd ’un, as the locals called her.

  “She must come to town periodically for supplies,” Jack suggested.

  “Aye,” said the innkeeper, nodding his head. “Every few weeks or so she comes out in her rickety gig pulled by that old piebald nag of hers and stocks up.” He paused and scratched his head. “Can’t say I’ve seen her for quite some time, though. You folks goin’ up to the cottage, then?” he inquired as they were about to leave.

  “Yes,” said Jack. “Why? Is there some reason we shouldn’t?”

  “Does Mrs. Grimshaw know you’re coming?” he inquired with his brows drawn together in a concerned frown.

  “Not exactly,” Jack admitted warily.

  “Then be careful,” the innkeep advised. “People who have ventured onto the island despite the signs declaring it to be private property have occasionally been shot at.”

  At Amanda’s exclamation of surprise, he added, “Never hit, mind you, just shot at. But Mrs. Grimshaw don’t like trespassers. And watch out for the dogs, too. They’re mean devils.” He grinned a little nervously. “The young folk hereabouts say Grimshaw’s a witch.”

  These bits of offered advice and rural bogeyman philosophy did not reassure Amanda about the conditions in which her sibling had been living. What a dreadful atmosphere for a child! Seclusion … and a witch for a caregiver! It was all perfectly horrible!

  Jack warned Theo, Harley, and Joe about possible gunfire, which information understandably put all three of them in a bit of a fret. Then she and Jack and Lord Serling reboarded the carriage and headed into the wilderness that would take them to Thornfield Cottage. They lighted the lantern inside the coach and bumped along through the dark at a snail’s pace.

  By the rather forbidding expression on Lord Serling’s face during moments when there was no conversation, Amanda was afraid he was regretting his generous offer to stand as one of her two gallant escorts. But she realized he was probably only putting himself to so much trouble for his brother’s sake … simply to keep his eye on Jack. Though there had been no embraces when Lord Serling found his brother, it was obvious to Amanda that he was deeply devoted to and very fond of Jack.

  But who could not be fond of Jack? thought Amanda, staring longingly at his strong profile as he looked out the carriage window. She had never imagined she’d have this extra time with him, but she suspected it was only going to make it harder on her when she finally had to say good-bye to him for good. Still, it was wonderful of him to be so concerned for her safety and to want to lend her emotional support during this trying period.

  She was very glad, too, and immensely relieved to discover that Jack had a brother and friends that would help to restore his memory. And even though she’d felt all along that Jack wasn’t married, she was still surprised that such an eligible fellow hadn’t been snapped up by now. Of course, he didn’t appear to want to be married, which was a very good reason for Amanda not to get her hopes up even though he was apparently still available.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the deplorably bumpy road ended at an open stretch of beach. There had been no shots fired at them, but everyone’s nerves were frayed just the same. It wasn’t hard to get jittery when you imagined bullets zinging past your ears. Theo hollered “whoa,” and the horses stopped.

  Jack assisted Amanda as she eagerly climbed out of the carriage and looked around. It felt good to be free of the claustrophobic wilderness of beech trees and popl
ars they’d just passed through and to be standing on open land. The tide was in, which made the beach seem rather narrow. In the rays of the setting sun, the sand appeared pale butter-yellow, and the small, frothy waves that lapped at the shore were limned with gold.

  At the horizon, the deep orange orb of the sun was sinking into the sea, leaving behind a sky full of spun-sugar clouds in colors from fiery red to palest pink. Seagulls cawed and flapped through the cool, humid air.

  “Why, it’s absolutely beautiful here!” exclaimed Amanda, taking in a pivotal view of the place. “But where is the cottage?” She could just imagine how lovely it would look, a snug, white-washed bungalow with creepers on its walls and arbors of roses, and with a little fence enclosing a tidy garden.

  Amanda saw Julian touch Jack’s elbow, and they glanced grimly at each other. They were looking past the carriage and farther inland. Amanda followed the direction of their gazes and saw that there was a gradual rise of land that finally amounted to a small hill. Unlike much of the landscape, the hill was not entirely overgrown by trees but was dotted here and there by an occasional poplar. And at the top of the hill was a house—an absolutely wretched, run-down pile of rotting wood with a sun-blistered door and a sunken roof.

  Amanda clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from exclaiming aloud. Oh, it was dreadful, too dreadful to imagine her brother or sister living in that terrible place! And worse still, it appeared to be presently uninhabited.

  Yes, even worse than living in such abject poverty was the possibility that her sibling had been thrust out into the cruel world to fend for himself. But no candlelight spilled through the forlorn cracks of the building, nor was there smoke coming from the crumbling chimney to give Amanda hope that someone still resided there. The place looked utterly desolate.

  “Don’t despair, m’dear,” came Jack’s consoling voice near her ear. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed her against his side. “We’ll go up and investigate. Though it appears abandoned, there may be something inside that can give us a clue as to where its usual occupants have gone off to. Possibly they aren’t gone for good. Maybe they’re just somewhere else on the island.”

  But where? Amanda thought morosely. It was dusk, time for children to be inside having a hot supper before being tucked into a warm bed. But with no smoke coming from the chimney, how could there be a hot supper? And she would wager her farm and every shilling she owned that there was no warm bed waiting, either.

  Lord Serling remained silent and carried a lantern ahead of them as Jack steadied Amanda with an arm around her shoulder as he walked her up the muddy path to the house.

  Jumpy and suspicious and with his blunderbuss at the ready, Theo took Joe with him and scouted the beach. Harley stayed with the horses.

  Amanda tried to compose herself but couldn’t help the tears that trailed slowly down her cheeks. “I’m too late, Jack,” she told him bleakly. “The child is already gone!”

  “We don’t know that for sure, Amanda darling. Don’t cry.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze, but Amanda couldn’t be comforted. Who knew what had become of her brother or sister? If Mrs. Grimshaw had abandoned her charge, the child could be dead. Or sold to the slave trade. Or made to work as a chimney sweep!

  Amanda’s vivid imagination tortured her as they walked toward the sagging steps of the old cottage.

  But before they’d gained their objective, Amanda heard a deep snarl. Frightened, she looked up and saw yellow eyes and sharp canine teeth reflected in the light from the lantern. A huge, black, short-haired dog was barring their path.

  Then another growl was heard behind them. Aware of the danger of sudden movement, Amanda turned her head slowly and saw the menacing shape of another large black dog, crouched for attack.

  “Don’t move, little brother,” Lord Serling said in a fierce undertone. “They’ll go for our throats.”

  “I’m not a Johnny Raw, big brother. Did you think I was going to kick up my heels doing the Scottish fling?” Jack replied through gritted teeth.

  Amanda was shaking from head to toe. “What … what are we … we going to do, Jack?”

  “Where’s that damned Theo when you need him? He’s always nosing about when he’s not wanted, but when real danger rears its ugly head, he’s off parading up and down the beach and collecting seashells!”

  “What would you do if they were Frenchies, Jack?” Lord Serling asked. “You’re the soldier.”

  “But I was fending off swords and bullets, Julian! I never let the Frenchies get close enough to bite me!”

  “There’s a hefty stick on the ground yonder,” said Lord Serling, holding himself ramrod straight and speaking out of the side of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll lunge for it and use it to scare them off.”

  “If anyone’s going to ’lunge,’ Julian, it had better be me,” said Jack. “I’m faster than you.”

  “But I’m more precise.”

  The dogs were inching closer, and Amanda could see the drool slathering off their tongues and dripping out of the comers of their mouths. “Oh, don’t do anything, please!” she implored them. “They’re just waiting for you to move so they can attack!”

  “We can’t stay frozen like this forever, m’dear,” said Jack. “Don’t worry. Just do—”

  A strange-sounding “meow” was heard coming from the direction of the carriage. Surprised, they carefully turned their heads to see what was making the catlike noise and saw Harley inside the carriage, sticking his head through the window. Making absurd faces and yowling like a cat, he was taunting the dogs to come after him so they’d leave Amanda and the others alone.

  The dogs seemed indecisive at first, turning their heads toward the carriage with their small, pointed ears pricked up, then turning back to Amanda, Jack, and Lord Serling with flattened ears and gnashing teeth. But Harley continued to yowl and had even forced his rail-thin body halfway out the window opening and was wildly waving his arms.

  This was too tempting for the dogs. They could not resist the lure of a moving target. They dashed off toward the carriage, howling like the hounds of hell.

  “Harley!” cried Amanda.

  “Don’t worry about him,” Jack said with a touch of appreciative amusement as he watched the dogs go loping down the hill. “Harley’s smart enough to pull his head inside when vicious dogs are snapping at it. You ought to be more worried about the paint on your carriage.”

  Amanda could see this was so. Harley had immediately disappeared inside the carriage and thrown down the leather window flap. He was perfectly safe, but the dogs were jumping up and down and scraping the carriage with their sharp claws.

  “Oh, dear. Theo will be livid,” said Amanda.

  “He’s got more to worry about than the paint on the carriage,” said Lord Serling. “When the dogs catch sight of him or Joe, they’ll go after them with a vengeance.” He took a quick visual appraisal of the area and said, “Ah, yes. That will do.” Then he turned back to Jack. “There’s some sort of barn or shack over there, Jack. We can lure the dogs inside and barricade the door. Let’s search the house and see if there’s some food to use for bait.”

  Moving quickly before the dogs got tired of snarling and snapping at the carriage, Lord Serling, Jack and Amanda hurried through the unlocked door of the dark cottage. Lord Serling set the lantern down on a table just inside what appeared to be the kitchen area and immediately began flinging open cupboard doors.

  Jack was busily searching for food, too, and it was he who found a hard half loaf of bread. He sniffed it. “It’s quite stale, but those beasts won’t notice a little mold, I daresay.”

  “It appears to be the only thing edible in the house,” observed Lord Serling, closing the last cupboard door.

  “If you can call it edible,” said Jack, wrinkling his nose.

  “It will have to do. Come, Jack.”

  Jack caught Amanda’s arm as he moved to the door. “You stay inside, Amanda. We’ll be back in a pig’s whisper, j
ust as soon as we’ve got those bloodthirsty hounds locked up.”

  Amanda nodded, then moved to the window and watched nervously. The dogs started running up the hill as soon as Jack and Lord Serling came out of the house. She clasped her hands tightly together and prayed their plan would work. Jack and Lord Serling held out the hunks of bread and waggled them alluringly, all the while jogging backward toward the shack. You could almost see the dogs’ eyes narrow and fasten on the food. Just as they got to the open door of the shack, with the dogs fast behind them, Jack and Lord Serling threw the bread inside.

  Naturally the dogs’ first and most instinctual reflex was to go after the food. As soon as the second dog’s tail disappeared inside the shack, Jack and Lord Serling closed the doors and pressed their backs against it. As there appeared to be no latch or lock of any kind to secure the door, Lord Serling held it shut while Jack pulled over two heavy bales of hay and pushed them against the door.

  Amanda gave a sigh of relief. At least the dogs were taken care of. She suspected that as well as being trained as guard dogs, they were behaving especially aggressively because they were hungry.

  Hungry. Like her little brother or sister might have been in the last few months after her father’s money quit coming.

  Amanda slowly turned around and looked at the house that had been home to her brother or sister.

  Poverty. The sparse furnishings, threadbare curtains, bare floors, empty cupboards, and cold grate screamed of poverty. It was a small, cramped hovel of a place, and Amanda couldn’t imagine a child flourishing in such a cheerless atmosphere. She would have thought that the amount of money her father sent would have supported them in better comfort than what she saw evidence of today. It made her suspicious as to exactly how Mrs. Grimshaw spent the ready.

  Her eyes filled with tears as she began to walk slowly about the small room that combined a sort of parlor with the kitchen. She trailed her hand over the scarred top of a chest, expecting her fingers to be dirty from several months’ worth of dust built up on the furniture. But to her surprise, though her fingers were dusty, they weren’t that dusty. Dashing her tears away, she looked about her in a more alert and inquiring manner. If the house had been abandoned months ago, there would be more cobwebs in the comers and the dust would be thicker.