Vintage Love (144 page)

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Authors: Clarissa Ross

Tags: #romance, #classic

BOOK: Vintage Love
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“Almost, but not quite,” the big man said, removing his hat to show a bronzed older version of that good-looking man who had been her first love.

She went to him and he took her in his arms and kissed her so warmly that she felt embarrassed and afraid. She pulled away. “Please! you have taken me by surprise! I must have time to accustom myself to your being alive!”

He took it in good humor. “I know of no better way to convince you than with a rousing kiss!”

“Do sit down,” she told him, bringing forward an easy chair. “You must tell me what happened and how you have managed to come back from the dead!”

He sat down across from her and asked, “Do you have a bit of good whiskey in the house? I’d like to wet my parched throat before I begin!”

Becky laughed and stood up. “I shall be a barmaid again and fetch your drink, just as I did at Crown’s Tavern!”

A look of sadness crossed the big man’s bronzed face. “I went there! It isn’t a tavern any longer, but a bake shop, and the Crowns are long gone.”

“I know,” she said, bringing him back a bottle of whiskey and a glass. “You can help yourself,” she said, seating herself again.

“You remembered,” he smiled, “I drink it straight.”

“I remember so many things,” she said, staring at him with fond eyes. “I have never forgotten you!”

“Nor I, you,” he replied and downed a good-size drink. Then he sat back and smiled at her. “You knew I was shanghaied and thought to be dead?”

“Yes, Crown found out that much for me. You were sold to the Captain of a ship bound for Australia.”

“Aye,” Davy agreed. “When the Captain first looked at me, he thought I was dead and he was in a temper. Then he found I was alive and too weak to be a crew member, and he was in a rage all over again. As soon as the ship docked in Australia, he put me on the dock and told me to look after myself.”

“You must have been dreadfully beaten up when you were shanghaied!”

“They were not tender! Not those wolves!” he said, his face darkening. “Well, I wandered about Sydney until I found a doctor willing to care for me. All I needed was proper care. In a month I was myself again.”

“But you didn’t write me or come back?” she said.

Davy nodded. “I should have,” he said. “But what had I to offer you if I did come back? I decided it would be best if you thought me dead. I also made up my mind to make a fortune in that new land.”

“I see,” she said.

His eyes met hers. “And you did do well. You married Mr. Mark Gregg, the famous shipbuilder, and I have been told you have a lovely daughter by him!”

“Yes,” she said quietly.

“What of your sister, Peg?”

“Dead,” she said. “She ran off with Alfie, and he destroyed her. I would rather not think about it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, obviously touched by the news. “I did not know, though I remember that villain, Alfie, well enough, along with some others.”

“Tell me more about Australia,” she said.

Looking somewhat sheepish he said, “The doctor who cared for me had a daughter, a fine-looking, high-spirited girl who took a fancy to me. I saw her as far above me, but she encouraged me to try and make my fortune.”

“And?”

“As I result, I set out for the gold fields. And for a change, everything began to come my way. I fell in with an old miner who knew all about searching for gold. He taught me everything he’d learned over the years. He’d been in California when the big strike was made there and then had shipped out to Australia. Until we joined up as partners, he’d never had any luck.”

She smiled, “I’m sure you changed that.”

“I did,” Davy said proudly. “And within eighteen months we struck a rich vein. I went back to Sydney and married the doctor’s daughter and then returned to the mining town to build my fortune larger.”

“And you were successful?”

“Beyond my dreams,” Davy Brown said. “I’m a very wealthy man today. My partner recently died and left all his shares to me. So I shall never worry about money again.”

Becky said, “I’m so happy for you. What about your wife? I want to meet her. Is she in England?

Davy looked sad again. “No,” he said. “She is buried back there in Australia.”

“I’m sorry!”

“The mining towns were hard on women, even though we had all the money we could use,” he said. “She contacted a fever. In a week she was gone.”

Becky said, “What a tragedy.”

“It was,” the man seated across from her said as he poured himself another whiskey and downed it. Then he looked more cheerful as he informed her, “But she left behind a great treasure.”

“Did she?” Becky said politely.

“Yes,” Davy said. “And I know you’ll agree. My daughter, Julia is named after her dear mother. She is here in London with me.”

“Wonderful!”

“A grown young lady with a convent and classical education,” Davy Brown said with pride. “I have a mature female companion for her, a lady of genteel background to show her the city and help her adapt to England, since this will be our home.”

“You plan to live in London?”

“Yes,” Davy said. “I have come to that decision. Though I first returned here to settle a debt and leave for America. I have had my revenge, and now I’m going to stay here.”

“Your revenge?” she said, tautly.

He nodded. “Yes. Against the man who so cruelly shanghaied me years ago. That dark scoundrel, Bart Woods!”

CHAPTER 12

“So it was you!” she cried.

The man in black looked surprised. “You know about the incident?”

“How could I help but know! Bart Woods has long been the managing director of Gregg & Kerr. He married Vera Gregg, and he was my husband’s business partner and is now mine!”

Davy Brown stared at her. “I should have realized. At the moment I attacked him I had just arrived in London. I could not rest until I faced him and whipped him! He recognized me and asked my pardon. I pardoned him with some heavy blows!”

“You hurt him badly,” she said. “He is not well.”

“Is he recovering?”

“Yes,” she said. “But you might well have killed him. I trust you have no intentions of revenging yourself on him further?”

“None,” the big man said staring at his hands. “I’m sorry I did what I did. But he was a villain, and he did send many poor seamen to ships for blood money!”

“I realize that,” she said. “I can understand your outrage. But I beg you now to forget about it.”

“You have my word.”

Becky said, “To Bart’s credit he protected you. Even though he recognized you, he would not tell the police or any of us who you were. So that must be said in his favor.”

Davy stared at her. “You speak of him as if he were your friend?”

Becky knew she was blushing. She said, “Yes. We have become close friends over the years. I have admired him for putting his black past behind him and making an honest man of himself.”

“I find it harder to forget that past,” Davy murmured.

“But you must be fair. You have changed greatly, so have I, and so has he. You must allow for the passage of time. The years have not been as kind to Bart Woods as they have been to you. The shipyard is doing badly, his marriage to Vera has been an unhappy one, and about the only thing he has to take pride in is his son, Donald.”

“And his friendship with you.”

“I have tried to be his friend,” she said. “I feel the friendship has not been wasted.”

Davy Brown said, “Perhaps you are right. I cannot quarrel with your choice of friends, since you have no control over mine. Nor can I blame you for marrying Mark Gregg. May I ask if that was a happy marriage?”

“Not as good as yours, by all accounts,” she said. “But we did have good moments. It was bad in the end when he was very ill. But I do have a lovely daughter, Anne, who is in Paris at the moment.”

Davy said, “I wish you had a son. I’ve often dreamed of coming back here and finding you and my daughter marrying your son!”

She smiled. “Such things happen in novels, but rarely in real life.”

Davy was studying her fondly. “You must meet Julia soon,” he said. “It is strange! I vow she is more like you than she is like her late mother.”

“You probably only imagine that.”

“No. It is true,” he said. “She has your liveliness and she loves the outdoors. She has been a fantastic horsewoman since her childhood.”

“Wonderful!”

“I have bought an estate on the edge of London,” Davy said. “A find old castle with a good piece of land, including a bridle path. You must visit us for a few days and get to know my girl. You will approve of her.”

“I’m sure I will,” she said. “And what are you going to do? Live the life of a retired gentleman?”

“Hardly!” the big man said. “I have bought me a steel mill situated on the Thames. We are in the midst of perfecting a new process which will be cheaper and stronger than most types now offered. We plan to build bridges, machines, and steamships of it.”

“That’s strange!

“What?”

“That you should be the owner of a steel manufacturing plant. Donald, who is Bart’s son, is angry with his father for staying with iron plates. He claims steel is the metal of the future.”

“So it is,” Davy said.

“And Donald can’t persuade his father of this. That is why the shipyard is on the verge of ruin.”

Davy smiled grimly. “Bart Woods will surely die a pauper if he stays with iron ships.”

“My daughter and I will also be impoverished,” she reminded the big man. “Our fortune is invested in the shipyard. If Bart takes it down to ruin, he will ruin all of us.”

Davy frowned. “The man must be a fool!”

“No. Stubborn and perhaps behind the times because of his bad health. The future of the firm depends on Donald, his son. I would like you to meet him.”

“He sounds like a good enough lad,” Davy said.

She nodded. “Perhaps he could discuss the possibility of your producing the steel plates for vessels the shipyard would construct. Or even arrange a merger between your business and ours.”

“Not too fast,” Davy said, raising a hand. “I can’t say that I would like the idea of being a business partner of Bart Woods or his son!”

“Why not? You are looking for an outlet for your steel! And Donald is young and filled with enthusiastic ideas about building steel ships. The only catch is that his father won’t agree.”

Davy said, “I am just not sure.”

“Bart is not well,” she said. “He may not be active in the firm long. That is why you and Donald should meet.”

“Would he want to talk to me if he knew what I did to his father?” Davy wondered.

“No one need know that,” she said. “Except myself and Bart. And he has shown he doesn’t intend to mention you.”

Davy helped himself to another drink and smiled bleakly. “So I’m to discuss business with the son of my old enemy.”

“Donald bears no blame for what his father did.”

“I know that.”

“And you might well be saving the fortunes of all of us,” she said.

Davy looked at her. “We’ve spent too much time talking about business and not enough about each other.”

“We’ve told each other about our past lives,” she said. “What more?”

He leaned forward and said, “I’ll tell you what more. I think I’d like to see a link between us before I go in for any business partnerships. I say let us go through with the plan we had all those years ago. Let us marry! And as soon as we can!”

She’d been afraid it might end like this. That he would try to revive the old love between them. And while she still cared for the bronzed man, she had given her allegiance to Bart Woods. And come what may, she could not desert the ailing Bart at this moment, when things were turning against him.

She offered Davy a gentle smile and said, “I know you will not be angry with me. But while your offer flatters me and makes me happy, I’m not able to accept it. I have found a way of life, and a husband would not fit in with it. Perhaps after my daughter is settled in marriage, I might think of it again. But by then, I’m sure no one will want me!”

Davy said, “I will want you any time you make the decision! And I’m willing to wait until you make it, having been patient all these years.”

She said, “I’m grateful wealth hasn’t changed you. You are as kind and understanding as you ever were.”

“With you, Becky,” he said. “Perhaps not with others. Now when will you visit me?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m leaving to visit my daughter in Paris late next week.”

“Then come this weekend before you leave,” Davy suggested. “I will send a carriage to bring you and then return you here on Monday morning. You must meet my Julia and we still have many things to talk about.”

Becky smiled, “Very well,” she said. “I’ll accept your invitation and be your house guest for the weekend. And while I am visiting you I may have Donald Woods drop by.”

Davy shook his head. “You drive a hard bargain. Very well, if the price of your joining us is that I should meet Donald Woods, I’ll agree.”

“Good. You may send the carriage for me Friday afternoon at four.”

He rose. “It shall be here on the dot.”

She also stood up to see him on his way. And with a knowing smile, she suggested, “I recommend that you buy yourself a new hat and another cloak.”

The big man looked grimly amused. “I might be well advised to do just that!”

He kissed her on the cheek as he left, and she watched him leave and get into his richly decorated carriage. He waved back to her from the window. Davy Brown had come a long way.

At once she sent Donald a message inviting him to join her for dinner at the Holborn Restaurant the following day. She told him she would be waiting at the entrance of the large eating place at twelve-thirty and said it was urgent that he be there. She had no doubt that he would come, thinking it had to do with Anne.

That night she had some strange dreams. She found herself back in the tavern serving drinks. All the familiar faces of that day were there. Peg, Jimmy Davis, Davy as a young man, the one eyed Crown, and his kind-hearted wife. And also old Phineas Pennifeather and the sinister Alfie Bard. She awoke perspiring. And she was filled with a melancholy. She lay staring up into the darkness and tried to think it all out.

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