Different Tides (23 page)

‘Will we have frosty names?’

‘We might. When I was small there was a telescope on a stand here,’ he said. ‘I’ll look in the attics and see if I can find it.’ He pulled the window hangings across. ‘Say goodnight to the dogs and get into bed now, you two. I’ll read you a story tonight.’

When Zachariah finished and stooped to kiss them goodnight, Edward said sleepily, ‘Don’t forget to take the book I made you.’

‘I won’t … and I’m sure I’ll treasure it. It will have its own special place on the study bookshelf.’

Which wouldn’t be hard because there were plenty of spaces where books were missing.

They moved into the other room, leaving a nightlight flickering in a saucer. He picked up Edward’s book, a loose collection of pages tied together with a piece of string, then placed it down again. ‘Are you coming down, Clemmie? Alexandra is going to play the piano and sing for us later.’

‘She’s talented … and beautiful.’

‘Yes … she has a great deal of grace. Come to the library and read Edward’s bogafree with me first.’

‘It’s private. He wrote it for you and it took him a long time. He’s a sensitive child whose feelings are very deep. He’s given you his trust with this, Zachariah. It seems as if the biography is important to him, and I won’t encourage you to break that trust or make fun of his efforts.’

‘I admit I have a lot to learn about children but I wouldn’t laugh at him because he’s a tender little soul.’

‘A bit like you were, I imagine.’

Reaching out, he caressed her cheek and she didn’t have the will to take a step backwards.

‘How did you get to be so wise, my Clemmie?’

‘I’m far from wise and I’m not yours.’ She wished he wouldn’t talk to her as though she was precious to him, and although it was too late to wish for something on the shooting star she did so anyway – she wished that she
was
precious to him.

‘Can you dance?’

She laughed because the question was unexpected. ‘I’m afraid I have no performance talents. I can’t dance, sing or play a musical instrument. There wasn’t much call for it in the school I was in, or the workhouse.’

‘I’ll teach you to dance the waltz.’ He took her by the arms and pulled her closer.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Teaching you to dance. Put your hand at my back and I’ll do the same. Good.’ He picked up her other hand and, holding it, extended their arms. ‘Now you take a series of steps … one two three … one two three. Circle … one two three …’

Clementine found it easy to dance the waltz and she relaxed and began to enjoy herself. He pulled her fractionally closer and began to hum a tune as they danced in time with it. Suddenly he swung her off her feet and she began to laugh. Her hair came undone and tumbled down her back.

He pulled her close and gazed down at her in the moonlight coming through the window. Her mouth dried up as he gazed at her.

He let his arms fall to his side when she backed away. ‘That was fun.’

‘It’s about time we had some. As Alexandra pointed out to me, we are much too sober and should entertain each other in the evenings. After observing her at the social, it’s obvious she needs more lively company. I think she finds the country dull.’

So they were all to perform, like monkeys jumping through hoops for Alexandra’s entertainment. ‘Do you find the country dull?’

‘I’m fascinated by the seasons. I don’t think I ever saw a seed of wheat planted and grow out of the earth before. Then it turns from green to gold, when it’s harvested. A miller grinds it into dust and the cook makes a loaf of bread. It’s a living work of art. Something I never gave much thought to before.’

‘Zachariah, I’ve got to go and braid my hair if we are to be entertained and entertaining.’

‘Allow me to braid it for you.’

It was much too intimate a task. She could imagine his fingertips, a gentle caress against her scalp, and her hair bunched in his hands. The skin on the nape of her neck exploded. Goose bumps chased around her body – as countless as the stars they’d admired in the sky. A delicious little shiver chased after them. ‘Polly is coming up the stairs; I think it would embarrass her to discover you arranging my hair.’

He nodded. ‘The new ladies’ maid starts tomorrow, I believe. I hope she suits.’ He picked up Edward’s book and turned away. ‘I’ll see you in the drawing room a little later, Miss Clemmie. Oh, hello Polly, I didn’t hear you coming. Your charges are fast asleep; I think I bored them with my story.’

‘I doubt it very much, sir. They look forward to being told stories, and young Edward has a lively imagination of his own.’

Clementine went down to her own room, where she braided her hair and secured it with a pink ribbon to match the gown. She couldn’t find her best shawl, one fashioned from the softest of cream wool and woven in a lacy pattern.

Her eyes fell on the Cheeves musical programme and she picked it up. Her gaze ran over the words and the signature. There was nothing odd about it; she must have been imagining it.

About to place it down again, she noticed some small printing along the bottom and took it closer to the candle flame. Her eyes widened as she wondered if it was a coincidence.

Downstairs she found the drawing room empty. Her knock at the study door brought a muffled, ‘Come in.’

When she opened the door both Zachariah and John looked up from the chessboard, then smiled guiltily and rose to their feet.

‘Is it that time already?’ Zachariah said.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to disturb your game. I just wanted a minute of your time, Zachariah.’

John said, ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to go, Mr Beck. It’s nothing important. In fact, I’m probably being silly.’ She handed Zachariah the programme. ‘There’s a name on the back that I noticed, and I wondered if it was the same George Sheridan who supervised the children.’

He gazed at it then murmured, ‘The George Sheridan Charitable Trust. I’ve never heard of such a trust – have you, John? What do you think?’

‘That it’s worth checking on. We’ll go and talk to Cheeves tomorrow. Find out where he heard about the Sheridan Trust. There were quite a few people at that concert, and at five pounds a head they would have collected quite a large amount for charity. Cheeves wouldn’t be involved in anything criminal, would he?’

‘I wouldn’t have thought he’d do anything fraudulent since he has too much to lose. And again, as Clemmie said, the name might just be coincidental.’ Zachariah’s gaze came her way. ‘That was well observed, Clemmie. We’ll check it out tomorrow.’

It had never crossed her mind that George Sheridan might be a criminal, but the children hadn’t liked him, and she trusted their instincts. ‘Has he done something wrong?’

‘Nothing that can be proved.’

‘But you’ve just been questioning his honesty.’

‘Yes, and I apologize for doing so in front of you. I’d forgotten that you were unaware of some of his dealings.’ He took her hands in his. ‘I’d be grateful if you’d ignore anything you just heard and not mention it to anyone.’

She nodded.

There was the sound of Alexandra playing the scales to warm her hands, going faster and faster to summon the audience, and prove her dexterity.

‘We must arrange a recital and supper evening especially for her, and invite everyone in the district.’

‘As long as it’s just for her,’ she said, feeling a bit put out, though she knew she’d hate to be the centre of attention, and wouldn’t know what to say to anyone.

Ever astute, Zachariah said, ‘I’ve hurt your feelings, haven’t I? Please believe it’s unintentional. Would you like to host a social evening?’

Panic rose in her. ‘Good Lord, no! I’d hide under the bed. As for hurting my feelings, it was just a niggle.’

‘You’re not ready to carry off the role of a hostess just yet, my little house mouse. That’s no reflection on your ability or a comparison to Alexandra, since you have an abundance of natural grace. It just means you have different skills.’ He offered her his arm. ‘Shall we go in?’

Alexandra was at her shining best in a gown of pale green, and with not a hair out of place. She wore Clementine’s shawl.

Her hand fluttered over it. ‘I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your shawl. You rarely wear it yourself and I couldn’t find you to ask. It suits this gown so well.’

Clementine rarely wore it because it wasn’t a shawl that suited everyday wear. She was keeping it for best, though she couldn’t remember wearing it since Mrs Cheeves’ music social. Had Alexandra been through her clothing chest? Yes, she must have done.

‘I would be willing to buy it from you … not that I have much.’

What else could she say but, ‘Please accept it as a gift.’

‘You’re so generous, Clementine. It’s lovely having a sister. Come and kiss my cheek.’

Sister or not, the last thing she wanted to do was kiss Alexandra’s cheek, but thus summoned, Clementine found herself obliged to pay homage to the woman. The urge to bite her was nearly overwhelming. Goodness, she was turning into a cannibal.

‘What are you contributing to our little concert tonight, dear?’ Alexandra said, oozing sweetness.

Mostly, she’d be playing the ugly sister to Alexandra’s Cinderella, she suspected. ‘Oh … I don’t have your talent, Alexandra.’

‘No … I don’t suppose you do, having spent most of your life in a charitable institution.’

‘My father … Howard Morris paid for my education.’

‘Ah yes … our mutual father. Not a man to boast about. What did you do before you were left at the school; did your mother have a profession?’

Clementine felt uncomfortable. ‘My mother could sing, so she was employed to entertain.’

‘Did she sing well?’

‘To me she had the best voice in the world, but I was young and she was my mother and I loved her, so I was biased. I’m glad I knew her, even for a short time.’

‘Perhaps it’s better not to delve too deeply into one’s background. Wouldn’t it be awful if we’d been born to a felon, or worse.’

She couldn’t help but say, ‘One of us was, I believe.’

A huff of laughter came from Zachariah.

Hastily, Alexandra said, ‘Well, never mind, it’s not really a suitable subject for the drawing room.’

‘I’m glad you’ve reminded us,’ Julia said drily, her voice barely audible when Alexandra ran her fingers up and down the keys.

‘I was going to ask you to turn the music sheets for me for this first piece, Clementine, but obviously you can’t read music. What a shame. My foster mother and father said it was an essential part of a young woman’s social education.’

‘Along with good manners, I presume.’

Alexandra ignored Julia’s barbed comment and her eyes alighted on Zachariah, who held up his hands in a defensive pushing motion. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have many social niceties either. I can dance a little, though I broke a few of Julia’s toes in the process of learning.’

Alexandra dipped her eyelashes at him, to no effect. There was a satisfaction in the fact that Zachariah didn’t respond to Alexandra’s witchery.

His eyes engaged hers and with a twitch of the eyebrow he said, ‘Should Alexandra decide to play a waltz I shall expect you to partner me, Clemmie. We’ll dance around the room and pretend we’re at a ball.’

Lord, he certainly knew how to make a woman feel alive … well, it was more hot and bothered and itchy than alive, she supposed, like a dog with fleas. Was this what drawing-room conversation was all about – flirting with each other? She wondered what he’d do if she joined in. Experimentally she tried to flutter her eyelashes like Alexandra did … a series of fast blinks really. But hers were less than subtle.

Zachariah laughed, and said, ‘Do you have dust in your eyes again, Clemmie?’

A petulant voice broke in. ‘I don’t think I know any waltzes.’

‘Then we’ll waltz to a marching tune, or to no tune at all – since we are both beginners.’

Julia rose and crossed to the piano. ‘I’ll turn the sheets for you. Shall we get on with it, Alexandra, else it will soon be time to waltz off to bed? Zachariah’s man, Evan, has offered to do a reading from
The Merchant of Venice
by William Shakespeare, with some card tricks to follow. I’m so looking forward to it. He used to be in the theatre, you know.’

The door slowly opened and a man stood framed in the doorway. He had a stooped back, a shock of red hair and a hooked nose.

‘Oh, my goodness,’ Julia shrieked and threw the piano music at him.

The noise woke the dogs, who decided to be heroes and barked ferociously at each other. Then Happy grabbed the man by one of his trouser legs and Wolf’s teeth closed around the other one. Sorted out, they began to worry the man’s ankles, making snarling noises.

‘So much for Shylock,’ Zachariah said, doubling up with laughter. ‘A memorable performance indeed, Evan.’

‘Call off the hounds, would you? They’re insane. Still, they would be useful if you trained them.’

‘Why … if it isn’t Evan,’ Julia said, sounding genuinely surprised. ‘What an absolutely terrifying disguise; you’re lucky someone didn’t shoot you.’

Clementine giggled. ‘It’s not All Hallows Eve by any chance, is it?’ She called the dogs off. Panting heavily they looked up at her as if waiting for a reward.

‘Good dogs,’ she said and patted them both. When Happy rolled on his back with his legs in the air, they began laughing all over again.

Alexandra tutted and, picking up the music, she began to play.

Cheeves look flustered when Zachariah and John appeared on his doorstep.

‘My pardon for calling at such an early hour; I need to speak to you on a matter of some urgency.’

‘Come in out of the cold, sirs. The fire is burning in my study, so we can talk there … though I am expecting an acquaintance to call within the hour.’

Mrs Cheeves was hovering in the background. ‘May I offer you refreshment … some coffee perhaps?’

Zachariah shook his head. ‘Thank you, Mrs Cheeves; we’ve already breakfasted, and this is a business matter rather than a social one.’

Cheeves dismissed his wife with a flick of his hand and opened his study door, saying expansively, ‘Come in, come in, gentlemen.’