Where Seagulls Soar (33 page)

‘Here we be, then, Mrs Lind. You mind those stones when you go across the field, with you being in the family way, and all. Not that I need to tell you mind, you being an islander born and
bred. Accidents happen when you least expect them, though. I well remember my Hulda Jean, she was my first wife . . . or was she my second? Can’t quite remember now. Anyway, she fell flat on
her belly, she did. The infant was stillborn the very next day. Are you sure you don’t want Hiram to wait? ’Tis gettin’ dark.’

‘No, that’s fine, Hiram. You get off home and have your dinner.’

‘Folks be better off sitting safely by their firesides on a night like this, I reckon.’

‘It’s a clear night with a bright moon to show me the way. At least it’s not raining.’

‘There’s danger abroad tonight, all the same. I feel it in my bones. Are you sure, now? Satan is after some souls tonight, I reckon.’

He was giving Tilda the willies. ‘You’ve been working with the dead for too long. Don’t worry about me, Hiram. I need the exercise and it’s all downhill on the way
back.’

‘’Tis true, the island has a way of either goin’ up or goin’ down. It makes the legs hardy, it do. Now you mind what I say, missus.’ Hiram looked about him into the
gathering gloom. ‘I’ll be off then,’ he said, and he clicked his tongue at the donkey and moved away.

Tilda waved goodbye, then picked her way down the path, which was strewn with loose stones. Now she was left alone without Hiram’s friendly chatter, she felt the danger in the air too, as
if the island were full of spirits. It was lonely up here. Unease filled her, so she nearly turned back. The back of her neck prickled, as though she were being watched.

There was an odd sound coming from the cottage, like a cat mewing. Tilda wondered if her mother was ill. A shadow moved across the window; the woman who looked after her must still be there. The
sound stopped.

Her nerves prickling, Tilda shook herself and said out loud, ‘Goodness, you’ll be seeing ghosts next.’ She turned the doorknob and the door swung open, creaking as it went.
Taking a reluctant step over the sill she sensed danger, and was about to turn and run when there was a scuffling noise. A hand closed around her wrist and she was jerked forward. The door slammed
shut behind her and a key turned in the lock.

‘Where the hell have you been, you stupid old hag? You deserve a thumping for worrying me like that. See to the brat, would you. There’s something wrong with him.’

Tilda’s mouth dried up and her body became paralysed with fear. For a moment she stood there, unable to move or talk, then her limbs began to tremble as if she had a fever.

‘Well, what’ve you got to say for yourself?’ Brian shouted. Picking up the lamp he thrust it close to her, his face looking devilish in the flickering light.

Tilda could only mew with terror.

A smile stretched his mouth when he realized it wasn’t his mother. His voice soft with menace, he said, ‘Well now, if it isn’t our Tilda come a callin’, and her looking
like the queen herself in her finery. I was prayin’ for a woman after all that time in prison, now the devil has provided me with one. How about giving your brother a nice welcome-home kiss,
then? I can almost guarantee I’ll find something to reward you with afterwards.’

‘You
are
the devil,’ Tilda managed to gasp out before she buckled at the knees.

‘Then you won’t mind me stickin’ my fork into you, for I’m as randy as a dog,’ Brian muttered. Falling to his knees beside her he fumbled open his trouser
fastenings, then pulled open her bodice. He turned up her skirt and pulled her drawers apart, so he could take a look at her.

Tilda’s belly was as round as an apple. Beneath it, her little beard hid what she had to offer. His mouth dried as he imagined sliding himself into it. As his genitals reared up, his
trousers slid down, leaving his backside bare. He kicked them off. He had quite a load to get rid of.

Still, he couldn’t take his eyes off his sister. Tilda had always had a nice body; now she had gained a bit of weight it was even better. He placed his hands over her breasts, fondling and
kneading them. Now there was a nice couple of handfuls, soft and heavy. She smelled lovely, too, not like one of those pissy tarts who used to sell their wares to the soldiers.

His sister was wasted on the churchman. Taking advantage of her like this didn’t bother Brian. Tilda was a woman, and good for only two things, keeping a man’s house clean and easing
his need. His father had taught him that. It didn’t matter whether she was awake or asleep – or even dead come to that.

There was a clink as his knife fell to the floor.

Coming out of her faint, Tilda saw the weapon glinting in the lamplight. Her brother’s smell almost made her gag. She recalled with great clarity the weeks she’d spent half starving
while Brian and Peter humiliated her. They’d expended their filthy lust on her, when she hadn’t had the strength to fight back. And their father had said not a word.

But she had the strength now, Joanna had made sure of that. And the devil wasn’t getting her soul without a fight, no matter what Hiram had said.

Brian’s knee was between her thighs now, nudging them apart. The baby inside her kicked in protest as his heavy weight was lowered on to her. No! she thought wildly, she wasn’t going
to allow him to harm the child she wanted so much. Using all her strength, she twisted away as he tried to thrust himself into her, dislodging him. In his hurry he couldn’t hold himself and
he bucked like the animal he was, against her bunched petticoats.

Tilda’s hand closed around the handle of the knife. She brought it up, then with a terrified cry struck out.

Rolling sideways, Brian swore horribly and chopped her across the wrist. The knife slid off into the darkness.

Brian began to slap Tilda back and forth across her face, making her scream with the pain. The noise woke Toby from his sleep and he began to cry out. ‘Mama . . . Mama.’

It must have alerted her brother to the fact that he might be discovered, for he suddenly got to his feet, hauling Tilda upright by her hair. Thrusting his face close to hers he spat out,
‘Shuddup, woman, else I’ll slit your throat for spoilin’ my pleasure. Bandage my shoulder, then go and see to the brat.’

Tilda scrambled to cover her breasts, drawing her shawl over the torn bodice as she accused, ‘It was you who took Toby, then. How could you steal Joanna’s infant, you fiend?’
Oh God! the boy had been here all this time. If only she’d visited earlier. She had to try to save him, she thought, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

She prayed Brian would bleed to death. ‘I haven’t got anything to bandage it with.’

‘Use your damned petticoat, you useless lump.’ Dragging it down over her hips he tore a wide strip from it and threw it at her. ‘Wait while I get my trousers on, my arse is
getting cold.’

Blood welled from the wound on his shoulder. It wasn’t much of a cut because the blade had gone in sideways. She wished she’d plunged it straight into his heart instead of merely
nicking the skin.

When she’d staunched the blood flow to Brian’s satisfaction, he scowled at her. ‘Go and shut that kid up. Give him some milk.’

The window had been boarded up, Tilda saw with dismay, for she’d intended to try to climb out through it with the child. A few moments later, she said, ‘Toby’s feverish.
He’s soiled and sore, and he needs to be cleaned up. He needs a doctor, as well.’

‘He can’t have one . . . least, not yet. Just get on with it.’

Toby drank a mouthful of the milk, refusing any more by turning his head away. Tilda did the best she could to clean him up, with a jug of cold water and the remains of her petticoat.
She’d never wear it again, anyway, she thought with a shudder. Toby’s teeth chattered in his head as he tried to push her away.

‘I know it’s cold, Toby love, but it will make you feel better.’ She found some arnica in a drawer to help soothe the rash on his sore bottom, and spoke softly to him.

Toby was wearing Grace’s smock. As she threw the badly soiled garment into a corner, she thought it must have been Brian looking at her through the kitchen window, not her mother. So where
was Fanny Rushmore? Brian had obviously been expecting her back. And where was Ada Cooper, the woman who’d been hired to care for her mother? Tilda was frightened to even think about what had
happened to her, since she knew her brother had nothing to lose.

‘Hush, Toby,’ she said. She fashioned him a garment from the pillowcase, making holes for his head and arms to go through, and knotting it around his waist with a strip from her
petticoat. There was a shawl in a trunk at the foot of the bed to wrap him in. Afterwards, Tilda cuddled his shivering body close to her own.

He buried his head against her chest, bewildered and frightened, clinging to her for comfort. ‘Want Mama,’ he whispered, his voice painfully husky.

‘I know, my darling,’ she whispered against his ear. ‘And we’ll find her, I promise. But you be a good boy for Aunt Tilda now, so we don’t make the nasty man
angry.’

The introductions were over. Joanna’s bruises had been examined and exclaimed over by the women.

She’d dismissed them as insignificant. ‘Right at this moment I don’t care if I’m black and blue all over. I only care about getting my son back safely. Seth, perhaps
you’d tell everyone what has happened.’

Outlining what had occurred, Seth then said, ‘We need to get up to the cottage as swiftly as possible. Brian Rushmore is probably armed. Lord Durrington and Bisley most certainly will
be.’

Edward had taken the precaution of bringing a firearm. He also had a cudgel tucked into the back of his trousers.

‘We thought you looked a bit light on crew. Doing a bit of crimping while you’re ashore, are you?’ Oliver scoffed.

‘Could be.’ Edward grinned at Oliver and handed him the cudgel. ‘I might make you my first victim.’

Oliver’s smile faded. ‘Durrington’s blacklisted me.’

‘Sod Durrington. From what I’ve gathered over the last couple of days, it won’t be long before he’s down to the bones of his arse.’

Seth had a sudden coughing fit. It was cured by a thump on the back from Thaddeus, who nearly knocked him flat.

‘Thank you,’ he said politely.

‘My pleasure, lad.’

Joanna went into the kitchen and came back, brandishing a carving knife.

Seth gazed at it, then at her, his eyes glinting. ‘What do you intend to do with that?’

‘Defend myself, if I have to.’

‘You’re not coming, Joanna. Having a woman underfoot in the dark, especially one who’s feeling emotional and waving a carving knife around, would be the height of
stupidity.’

There were murmurs and nods of assent from the men.

Her hands went to her hips. ‘Toby is my son.’

‘We know he’s your son. All the more reason to keep a cool head. There are three armed men to contend with, and another gang of men from Weymouth, all after your cousin with revenge
in their hearts and skins full of liquor. We can’t watch out for them if we have women to defend, as well. You’re staying here, Joanna, and that’s that.’

‘Is it, indeed? Let me put you straight. Brian Rushmore isn’t my cousin. He’s stinking, dogeared prison scum. I intend to gouge his eyes out with their roots intact. So, in
short, Seth Adams, I’ll do as I damned well please.’

‘Will you, now.’ Seth twisted the knife from her hand and gave it to Irene. ‘Put that back where it came from, would you, please?’

He then pushed Joanna into the room Oliver used, and turned the key in the lock. Joanna began to pound on the door.

Handing the key to Charlotte, Seth sighed. ‘I’m sorry to leave you with this, Mrs Scott. If I were you, I wouldn’t allow her out until she’s calmed down and is able to
listen to reason.’

‘She’ll rip your ears off when she gets out,’ Thaddeus warned.

Seth shrugged. ‘Hopefully, she’ll have cooled down by then. Gentlemen, are we ready? Thaddeus, do you have a weapon?’

‘I’ve got my hands. They’ll do.’

Charlotte handed him the poker and scolded, ‘You’re not getting any younger, Thaddeus Scott, and I want you back in one piece. You take this.’

‘Don’t you start crawling out of your corsets, woman. Nothing’s going to happen to me.’ Placing a hand at either end of the poker, Thaddeus slowly bent it in half and
handed it back to her.

The three master mariners grinned at each other when Charlotte snorted and suggested haughtily, ‘Perhaps someone should hire you as a circus entertainer?’

‘You’re gettin’ too saucy by far, Mrs Scott.’

Joanna shouted against the keyhole. ‘Let me out this instant, Seth Adams, else I’ll never speak to you again.’

Seth ignored her.

The short silence while she waited for his reaction was followed by a grudgingly muttered, ‘Please, Seth.’

Seth’s glance went to the door she was hidden behind, and he seemed to waver. Then he drew in a deep breath and opened the door to the street. The four men left.

As the door shut behind them, Joanna rattled the locked doorknob, saying mutinously, ‘I’ll kick that damned man in the seat of his fancy pants when he comes back – and
he’d better have my son with him.’

Lydia exchanged a smile with Irene, who gazed at Charlotte. ‘Joanna’s as mad as a nest of red ants. Shouldn’t we let her out now?’

‘Not yet, dears. Mr Adams was right. He obviously cares for Joanna, since he’s trying to keep her out of danger, you know. She’ll soon come to her senses and realize she was
acting childishly, and he locked her in for her own good.’ She raised her voice a little. ‘You think about that, Joanna Rose.

There was a disgusted ‘Hah!’ from the other room.

Charlotte tied her apron about her waist. ‘Let’s get on with the evening meal, my dears. The men will be hungry when they come back, and it will keep us occupied.’

In the other room, Joanna quietly crossed to the window and opened it.

The streets were almost deserted, the womenfolk and children safe behind closed doors. A few men loitered at strategic places, where news could be passed quickly along the
line.

Having grown up on the island, Leonard knew when something was going on. There was an atmosphere of tension abroad.