Salting the Wound (18 page)

‘You won,’ Charlotte guessed.

John nodded. ‘We’ve brought the rest home. Marianne was nearly sick when she first saw it. I’m going to ask Pa to show me how to skin it. Marianne said if it doesn’t stink too much we might be able to make a belt out of it when we’ve cleaned the skin.’

‘Ugh! How could Marianne let you do such a horrid thing.’ Edgar tried not to grin. Clearly, Miss Hardy was more indulgent of the foibles of young males than her sister was.

Another head appeared. ‘Don’t worry, Charlotte, the snake couldn’t have been any deader.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Oh, you have a visitor. I wondered why there was a cab outside, but it had no driver. I’m so sorry to interrupt.’

‘Mr Wyvern is here to see Seth,’ she said.

The door opened further and the pair advanced into the room, their faces glowing healthily from fresh air and exercise, but plainly curious to find a stranger in their home. And Edgar, who’d thought Charlotte lovely, was entranced by Marianne’s appearance when they were introduced. So delicate, Miss Honeyman’s features suited her dainty body. Together, the sisters were perfection.

As for Master John Hardy, Edgar smiled as he shook hands with the boy. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Charles’s grandson. The resemblance was unmistakable, especially his mossy green eyes. It would be a shame to take John away from this place, and from these people. The boy looked totally at home here, he thought.

Nevertheless, his thoughts had to take second place to the wishes of his client, and Charles Barrie, who for whatever reason had been denied access to his only grandson, had a strong case for custody of him. The friendly welcome he’d received from these people whose happiness he was about to destroy made him squirm with guilt.

The gate squeaked and Mrs Hardy rose. She sounded relieved when she said, ‘That must be Seth now. I expect you’ll want to speak to him privately.’

When he nodded, John and Marianne left the room with her.

S
eth was puzzled that a lawyer was here to see him. He had no surviving relatives, and couldn’t help thinking that the man had mistaken him for someone else.

‘Mr Wyvern?’ The two shook hands, ‘How can I help you?’

‘I’m acting on behalf of a client of mine, Sir Charles Barrie.’

Even more mystified, Seth gazed at him. ‘I’m afraid I’ve never heard of him. Are you sure you have the right person?’

‘Yes, Colonel Hardy. We’ve had you investigated.’

‘Investigated? I don’t understand,’ which was not to say he was happy about it. ‘Get to the point of your visit if you would, sir?’

‘I believe . . . know you have the child John Barrie living under your roof.’

‘There’s nobody living here under that name. My stepson is called John Hardy, now.’

‘It will go easier on you if you don’t deny it, Colonel. The boy’s mother was named Mary Barrie and he was named after his father. You formed a relationship with Mary Barrie in Tasmania.’

His brow creased, as though he was trying to remember something. ‘You’ve made a mistake.’

‘You deny being in Australia?’

‘Of course not. I was posted there with my regiment. But I married a widow called Mary Ellis.’

‘Her maiden name. She was actually married to my client’s son before his death. John Charles Barrie was the son they had together, and is the boy who is now living with you. It’s a waste of time denying it.’

‘Mary was ill . . . an ailment from which we both knew she’d never recover.’

‘Then why did you marry her, Colonel, for her property? Her husband had a legacy that would have been hers had she thought to claim it . . . and yours if she’d married you legally.’

Seth laughed, but without humour. ‘Mary had no expectations of legacy. She had nothing but the clothes she stood up in, and her son. Quite simply, I admired her courage and I fell in love with her. John took my name. And if there is a legacy from his father, then it belongs to John.’

‘Even while knowing she was living off her—’

‘Be very careful what you say, Mr Wyvern. If you offer one insult towards my late wife’s memory I’ll be obliged to take you by the scruff of the neck and throw you out, and to hell with the consequences. If you speak of Mary, do so with all respect.’

‘I beg your pardon. I’m not here to fight, but to exchange facts. There is no record of your marriage in the Hobart church.’

‘We said words over the family bible in front of witnesses. It was recorded inside. Mary and John took my name, and we made it legal. That’s all Mary would accept from me. She said she could never be a proper wife to me, and despite everything she’d been through, she wanted to honour her first husband, a man she’d loved with all her heart.’

Edgar gave a little murmur of approval.

‘I looked after her as best I could. She put her son in my care and I promised on her deathbed that I’d bring John up as my own. She asked me to bury her next to her first husband. I dug the ground myself, and left money for a cross to be placed on the site. She is buried as Mary Hardy. Now I know why the Barrie name seemed familiar. It’s on some drawings she had – her legacy for John.’

He blinked back his tears when the man asked, ‘How did you get John back to England without his name appearing on the ship’s passenger list?’

The investigator he hired had been thorough, Seth thought, and recalled a young man at the school with astute eyes. He shook his head to clear it.

‘It was accidental, not subterfuge. John was still being fed by his mother when she died. I hired an Irish woman who had just buried her youngest child. She had another child and they were booked on board a ship returning to England. They were not well off, so I hired her to look after John until we reached England and also returned her fare to her. By the time we got here she’d weaned him. After that we lived in Scotland.’

‘In Edinburgh, in the house you inherited from a relative.’

Seth was taken aback. ‘Your investigator was thorough. Yes, in the house I inherited. There, I hired a nursery maid to look after John until we were able to fend for ourselves.’

‘It didn’t enter your head that John might have family.’

Seth drew in a deep breath. ‘Yes, it did, but just before she died Mary told me her deceased husband had been disowned by his father, and he’d wanted nothing more to do with him.’

Edgar Wyvern winced. ‘That might have been true once, but Sir Charles changed his mind, and blood is thicker than water, after all.’

‘Is it, Mr Wyvern? In my experience, where money is concerned that isn’t always the case. Mary and John were left impoverished. Where was his grandfather when they didn’t have enough food to eat, when they were sleeping under the trees, and when a decent woman was obliged to beg on the street? Tell me about this man, and I’ll tell you if a man who treated his own son so badly is a man who can be trusted with John’s welfare. Sir Charles Barrie, I believe you said his name was.’

‘I beg you not to think too harshly of him. He recently lost his eldest son, then shortly afterwards he discovered that the younger one had also perished. He had no knowledge of the existence of John at the time.’

‘So having lost two sons, one of whom he’d previously disowned, he has now decided to take his grandson away from a happy home.’

‘Sir Charles Barrie is a judge. John is his only living kin. He intends that the boy be restored to him. In fact, he has instructed me to take John back to London with me.’

‘I think not, Mr Wyvern. At his mother’s request I’ve been a father to John for several years, and by the way, you can tell him I’ll be pursuing John’s legacy on his behalf. Why isn’t Sir Charles here pleading his own case?’

Wyvern’s eyes widened. ‘He’s been extremely ill, and has sent me to pave the way.’

‘You have done that, sir. I now know what to expect from him. I also know what I’m up against. Thank you for coming. This interview is now at an end.’

They both stood, and Wyvern said, ‘You know this is not the end of it, Colonel Hardy. Sir Charles will challenge your claim to John, and he will win.’

‘Not without him being shown up for the hypocrite he is. He’s not thinking of John’s welfare, only of his own.’

‘I can understand your anger, and sympathize with it. Think the situation over carefully and calmly. Discuss it with Mrs Hardy, a young woman who seems to have a sensible head on her shoulders. See if you can come up with an alternative plan I can put before Sir Charles. I’ll return tomorrow.’

‘It will be a waste of your time.’

‘Colonel Hardy, you’re not a child. Talking is never a waste of time. John Barrie is the sole heir to a fortune, and the legacy from his father is nothing in comparison. His grandfather is fifty-five years of age. All Sir Charles wants is to spend some time with his grandchild and heir while he still has time, and make amends for what has happened. Would you try and deny him that pleasure, and the boy his birthright?’

‘No, I would not. It would be good for John to know that he has a grandfather, and to meet him and to spend some time with him. But instead of him coming to me in the first place this man has investigated my background in an effort to find something to discredit me, so to remove John from my care. If he expected me to hand him over before he did me the courtesy of being given the time to investigate him, then he’ll be sadly disappointed. John has already lost his father and mother. He looks on me as his parent, and it would be unfair to remove that support from him.’

They’d moved into the hall.

‘Come, come, Colonel, take my word for it, Sir Charles is above reproach.’

‘I can only judge you at face value, Mr Wyvern, and Sir Charles only by his stated intentions. I’ll do my best to prevent John from being removed from my family, and a home where he’s loved and loves in return.’

‘Think about this, I beg you. Sir Charles may decide to have you charged with child stealing. I’ve already talked him out of it once.’

Seth laughed. ‘I’m not the type of fool your client seems to think I am. I have a document signed by Mary, her signature was witnessed by two of my superior officers, men also above reproach. It’s still sealed, and I’m given to understand that her wishes regarding John are contained within it.’

The lawyer’s smile was unbelieving. ‘And you wait until now to tell me? I’d like to see this document.’

‘I daresay you would. And you will, sir. The document will be opened in court if the need arises.’

‘You’re bluffing, Colonel Hardy.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it if I were you. You may tell your client that if his concern for John is genuine and he wishes to meet his grandson, he may visit him here. We could set a day before you leave . . . one that will give your client time to recover, and for me to acquaint John with the fact that he has a grandfather.’

They set a date for March.

Seth opened the door. ‘Good day to you, Mr Wyvern.’

‘I’ve left a gift for John from his grandfather in the drawing room. I chose it myself, so I do hope he likes it.’

‘I’ll see that he gets it. Wait a moment.’ He went back into the drawing room and took a photograph from the mantelpiece. It was of them all. Charlotte was seated on the sofa with a baby in each arm. He stood proudly behind. John was with Marianne to one side. Her hand rested lightly on one of the boy’s shoulders. He took it from the silver frame. ‘Give this to Sir Charles with my compliments. It might help to place his mind at rest.’

‘Thank you, he’ll appreciate the gesture. And thank you for being so honest, Colonel.’ Edgar Wyvern held out a hand. ‘Let’s not part as enemies. Your quarrel isn’t with me.’

‘But it will be if this goes to court.’

‘It will, but trust me. Now I’ve met you and the boy and have seen the environment in which John is living, with your cooperation I’ll do my best to avoid that option, for the sake of the child. You would not object to meeting with Sir Charles in London, I take it?’

After a moment’s hesitation, Seth took the offered hand. ‘No, sir, I would not object.

Marianne was usually overrun with invitations leading up to Christmas, now there were very few.

‘They’re addressed to Mr and Mrs Seth Hardy, but I imagine you’re included,’ Charlotte said.

But when Marianne appeared for a social evening, she was the censure of all eyes. Women she’d known all her lives turned away from her and whispered behind their fans, some of the men stared at her with speculative eyes.

Lucian pretended not to see her, and when he couldn’t avoid speaking to her, he nodded and used the formal, ‘Ah, Miss Honeyman . . . you’ll have to excuse me a moment, there’s someone I urgently need to talk to.’

Her eyes met his. ‘Lucian, whatever is the matter with you? I thought we were friends.’

His eyes slid away and he mumbled, ‘Of course we’re friends, and can socialize later in the evening. As I said . . .’ He made the exchange between them as brief as possible before mumbling his excuses and moving on.

Mortified, Marianne stared at her plate for the rest of the evening, and only picked at her food. Nick had warned her that this would happen, but living in isolation had buffered her against it. She should have listened to him. Such was her tension that she was sick as soon as they got home.

Charlotte was tight-lipped as she eyed her. ‘Rumour must have got round about you going to America with Nick. Isn’t it enough that we’ve got this worry over John’s future, without that as well? Who have you told?’

‘Nobody.’

‘Then Nick must have told people. I bet that sour old spinster Daisy Thornton is putting it around. She never liked me. You’d better stay at home until it blows over, then you won’t have to answer any awkward questions. Seth is trying to establish himself as a businessman in the district and any scandal about you will reflect badly on him. Really, Marianne . . . you’re always so headstrong, and look where it’s got you. By the way, Lucian has announced his engagement to Isabelle Martin.’

‘Were we invited to the engagement party?’

‘There was an invitation.’

Her stomach rolled sickeningly. ‘But I wasn’t on it, I suppose. Will you still go?’

‘Of course we will, it would be rude not to. Seth needs to meet and socialize with people. Most of the pottery owners as well as the clay producers will be there. I daresay you’d be bored by it all, anyway.’ Charlotte kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry, this will all have blown over by next summer.’