Chapter Nineteen

‘I thought I might find you here,’ Matthew shouted down to her, before Emma could find her voice.

He carried on walking down the steps. No, not walking – more like swaggering if it were possible to swagger down steps. He was taking them two at a time, in a sort of lope that showed off his broad shoulders and the length of his muscular legs, as though he couldn’t wait to get to her. The breeze was blowing the hair back off his forehead and the sun, low in the sky at this time of year, gave his skin the appearance of a light tan. As he reached the bottom step, the red sandstone cliffs seemed to glow around him like a halo. He looked health personified.

But he wasn’t smiling and a shiver of something – fear about what he might say or do? – prickled the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck.

‘And I was right,’ Matthew said, reaching her at last. ‘Here you are.’

Still, the expression on his face showed no delight in seeing her. Concern perhaps, but not the joy she had been expecting after the kiss he’d given her in the kitchen at Nase Head House. Perhaps it was just a kiss to him, much as he might have given many other women in his life, and nothing special. Perhaps it had been the champagne talking that had made him say the things he had. But that dance … Oh, that dance! She hadn’t imagined all that, surely? Seeing him now was bringing it all back.

Emma sucked her cheeks in and nodded, not knowing what to say. How stupid I must look, she thought – like one of the old folks up at Mount Stuart who sit in their chairs all day nodding and dribbling, saying nothing.

The uncomfortable truth was that she didn’t want to speak in case she said too much, laid bare her heart before Matthew. Yes, her heart was saying, I have feelings for you I ought not to have, but do, because I also love Seth with all my heart. Don’t make me choose between you because I don’t honestly think I can at this moment. Everything is all too soon. Too new.

Emma remained rooted to the spot.

‘Well, this is a first,’ Matthew said. ‘Emma Le Goff with no quick repartee.’

Emma didn’t even bother to correct him – Emma Jago, not Emma Le Goff – because it wouldn’t surprise her to learn he knew her secret.

‘I wasn’t expecting you,’ Emma said. ‘I’d hoped it was Seth. He—’

‘He left the house while you were sleeping,’ Matthew interrupted. It was, Emma thought, as though he wanted to save her the pain of saying she thought Seth had left her. And taken Fleur. ‘He gave the nursemaid her notice. He went to see Mr Underwood. He went to the solicitor and other places. He didn’t leave you a note to tell you any of that.’

‘You’re spying on us!’ A flush spread up the sides of Emma’s neck; she was certain now that when Matthew had lived in the town, working undercover for His Majesty’s Customs, it had been his job to spy, and he could well have seen her and Seth coming here to Crystal Cove. Making love here.

‘Just doing my job,’ Matthew said.

‘Your job? What is your job if it isn’t spying?’

‘Ah, the old Emma. Questioning everything.’ Matthew smiled then for the first time since his arrival.

‘Stop teasing me.’

‘I’m not. I’m just speaking the truth.’

Emma made a noise like a snorting horse – she knew it made her sound unladylike but she didn’t care. She’d misread all the things about Matthew she thought she’d read and now she felt more than a little foolish. Foolish and cross. Matthew was making her feel sixteen again and she wasn’t. She was nineteen now, for goodness’ sake. A woman. A woman who ran her own business. A woman who, oh dammit, a woman whose heart was telling her she liked this man standing in front of her more than she ought, seeing as she’d told the man she’d been living with that she loved him, too, and not so long ago. Well, Matthew Caunter could spy on her person all he wanted to, but he couldn’t spy on her feelings, could he?

‘So,’ Emma said, folding her arms in front of her, ‘how do you know all those things about Seth?’

‘Because I’ve just been to see him.’

Emma unfolded her arms rapidly and put her hands in front of her mouth. She hadn’t expected him to say that.

‘Oh,’ she mumbled through her fingers. She took her hands away from her face. ‘I can’t imagine he was pleased to see you. You know … after that dance we had. You and me, I mean. Not me and Seth.’

‘I know exactly which dance you mean, Emma,’ Matthew said. ‘That particular dance will remain with me forever. But to apologise for dancing too close to his wife wasn’t why I went to see Seth.’

‘I know you’re going to rib me for saying this, but … it wasn’t?’

‘You’re so deliciously easy to rib, to tease, Emma Le Goff,’ Matthew said. ‘But that’s not my mission at the moment. Seth didn’t punch me on the nose for taking liberties with you, if that’s what might be concerning you.’

‘It isn’t,’ Emma said.

Seth had punched his bully brothers a time or two, but settling things with his fists wasn’t Seth’s way.

Part of her was relieved that Seth was back at Mulberry House. And Fleur? Matthew hadn’t mentioned her.

‘Was our daughter with Seth when you called?’

‘Seth’s daughter was there, yes. Fleur. Pretty name. I gather you chose it?’

So, he knows Fleur’s not my child. Emma wasn’t going to give Matthew the satisfaction of letting him know she’d guessed that.

‘I did.’

And then it struck her that perhaps Caroline had sent him to take custody of Fleur.

‘You’re not here as some undercover something or other to take Fleur from Seth, are you? I know you … you’ve had another agenda in coming here other than being Mr Smythe’s groomsman. And don’t look at me like that, I do know you. You’ve been paid to take Fleur back to Mrs Prentiss, haven’t you? If you have, please don’t. Oh, please don’t.’ Emma said, her words rushing out in a tumble. ‘I’ll give you twice whatever it is she’s paying you, not to. It would break Seth’s heart to lose Fleur now. Really it would.’

‘Ah, so my hunch is right. Fleur isn’t your daughter. And in one sentence you’ve also confirmed what, since being given this case, I’ve suspected about the woman who gave birth to her.’

Emma gulped in air so quickly – shocked and angry that Matthew had just set a trap and she’d fallen right into it, in the way wasps are stupid enough to fall into a jar filled with jam and water and set to drown them when the fruits are ripe – she thought it was going to choke her.

She coughed. ‘You … you … tricked me into … saying that.’

She coughed some more and Matthew leaned an arm around her and patted her on the back.

‘Don’t touch me!’ she yelled at him. And the yelling made her cough and splutter even more.

‘I can’t leave you to choke to death, can I?’ He patted her some more and the choking feeling left her.

‘It might be as well,’ Emma said.

‘No it wouldn’t. I’d never get to dance with you again if I did.’

All Emma’s fire and anger went out of her then with his words. Matthew had felt the same for her as she had for him. She walked towards a boulder that was just the right size for sitting on, terrified that the jelly feeling in her legs would get the better of her and she’d never make it that short distance.

Matthew followed. He sat down beside her. There was just the narrowest of gaps between them, but they didn’t touch. ‘Much as I’d like nothing more than to dance with you every night for the rest of our lives, that isn’t why I’m here.’

Matthew reached for her hand and clasped it and Emma let him, too shocked by the suddenness of the movement, his closeness, to whisk her hand away. ‘Hear me out, Emma, please.’

She nodded.

‘You were right just now to accuse me of spying. Although it wasn’t you in particular that I was spying on. Seth told me you might be here and asked me to come and find you. Fleur was fractious, so he’s put her to bed and can’t leave her. He said this was your special place – his and yours – and that you both come here when you have things to talk about … think about.’

‘He said that?’ And when Matthew shook his head mock-crossly and put a finger to his lips, she said, ‘Sorry. I won’t interrupt or question you again.’

‘And the Pope will marry one day,’ Matthew said, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘In America I’m what they call a private investigator. I work for whoever needs my services: cuckolded husbands looking for their wives; abandoned wives looking for their husbands, wanting financial support for the children of the marriage; the tax department looking for evaders; fraudsters who take on aliases one after the other to cheat people out of property and money; authorities looking for escaped prisoners. So—’

‘Miles! I knew it! This has got something to do with him, hasn’t it?’

‘You showed exemplary restraint there, Emma. I managed to get at least four sentences out before you interrupted. But yes. My reason for being here, on this beach sitting on a boulder holding your hand at the moment, is Miles Jago.’

‘Please, please tell me he wasn’t in prison for killing someone else. And that he didn’t kill someone when he escaped.’

‘He wasn’t in prison in America for killing anyone. And he hasn’t killed anyone escaping from it. There, does that make you feel a little better?’ Matthew tilted his head to one side and studied her. She nodded.

‘Yes. A little.’

‘Good.’

Matthew raised Emma’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, then he placed it in her lap and let go and she felt bereft, abandoned – as though she’d been given the best Christmas present of her life and then had it taken away again.

‘Always happy to oblige a lady, Emma.’ Matthew’s eyes crinkled at the corners. He knew what that kiss had done to her, didn’t he?

‘This isn’t funny.’

‘Did I say it was?’

‘No, but if Miles wasn’t in prison for killing someone, why was he there?’

‘Fraud. Embezzlement. Obtaining money by false pretences.’

‘Under an alias?’ Emma asked.

‘Of course. He’s had many aliases. It’s not been easy for the authorities to keep tabs on him.’

‘There or here,’ Emma said. ‘And he bought his way out of prison.’

A fact, not a question.

‘Ah, good to see you’re still sharp as a tack, Emma. Yes, he did. That or someone else bought his way out for him.’

With money Seth had given Caroline? Too much money, Emma thought, could be more trouble to you than not having enough, couldn’t it? There was more opportunity to do bad things with money she was fast realising, and the last thing she wanted in all this was for it to be proved Seth had provided that money and that he would be in trouble with the authorities for it.

She wasn’t going to tell Matthew one word of what she was thinking.

‘And I have a feeling I know just who that person was now.’

Caroline Prentiss. Emma knew exactly who it was Matthew meant.

‘So have I,’ Emma said. ‘But to say her name would taint the air and spoil this place, so I won’t.’

Matthew gave a low chuckle but Emma chose to ignore it, even though the delicious sound of it was giving her goose pimples.

‘When?’ she said instead. ‘When did he escape?’

‘A week ago. The American authorities have reason to believe he’s on his way back to England. And they want him back before the British courts get hold of him for crimes he committed here. He could be here very soon.’

‘The authorities think he’s coming here? Wanting what he thinks should be his? All the money Seth got for selling the fishing fleet? The cottages? Our house?’

‘Ah, you worked that out very quickly. All of that, among other things.’

‘What else does he want?’

‘Mrs Prentiss’s daughter,’ Matthew said.

‘He’s coming for Fleur?’

‘From what I was told in a telephone call this morning, yes.’

Emma digested all this unwanted information for a few minutes.

‘You didn’t come back just to be Mr Smythe’s groomsman at his wedding, did you?’

Matthew gave a mock sigh. ‘You’re going to question me, Emma, I know you are, but the truth is I had no idea about what Miles Jago was up to when I got on the boat to come here. The only thing on my agenda then was being groomsman for Rupert. Although I confess there was the hope of seeing you, too. And now I have, part of me wishes I hadn’t.’

‘That’s hardly a compliment,’ Emma said.

‘I think, Emma,’ Matthew said, his eyes unwaveringly on Emma’s, ‘that kiss we shared told you which part of me is glad I came back. The part I wish with all my heart I didn’t have to tell you is that I took a phone call only this morning from America with new information about Miles Jago. Sometimes a person is in the wrong place at the wrong time, but just for once I was in the right place at the right time. I can now make sure you and Seth – Fleur too – are safe. And I will, believe me.’

Make us safe. Because he cares for us. For me.

Matthew was as good a man as Seth in his different way. Was it possible to love two men? Emma wondered as she gazed into his oh-so-familiar face. Despite the awfulness of this new situation she was in, she wanted to reach out and touch him, confirm to herself that he was here in front of her and not in her dreams.

‘I knew it. Miles and Mrs Prentiss didn’t go down with the Titanic. They were seen boarding it – Olly Underwood saw them … oh … I …’

‘Shouldn’t have told me that?’

‘No, I shouldn’t. Olly could be accused of perverting the course of justice, or whatever it’s called, couldn’t he?’

‘He could. But I’ve already forgotten you told me.’

‘They were travelling under assumed names, weren’t they? With false travel documents. Those travel documents more than likely paid for with money Seth gave Mrs Prentiss to get out of our lives for good.’

‘And I don’t think you should have told me that either,’ Matthew said, smiling gently at her.

‘But I have. And you’ve already forgotten I’ve told you.’

Matthew laughed loudly then, startling an oyster-catcher pecking for food on the tide line; it squawked and flapped off, its red legs dangling, Emma thought, like starched ribbons.

‘You and I, Emma Le Goff, would make a wonderful business partnership. And any other partnership you care to name.’

‘Stop it! This is serious. If Seth and Fleur are in danger then—’

‘You, too,’ Matthew stopped her. ‘I had no idea you and Seth lived together when I wrote to you, or I’d never have said what I did in my letter. Not that what I said wasn’t – isn’t – true, but it wouldn’t have been appropriate.’

Lived together. Matthew had said lived together, not married. She knew it would be futile to try to persuade Matthew that she and Seth were legally joined as a couple, so she’d save her breath for what she could tell him.

‘I don’t know that our dance last night was appropriate,’ Emma said. ‘With Seth watching.’

‘Inappropriate perhaps, but wonderful. It will stay with me forever, Emma. And while I don’t want to be saying this, you must get away from here. You and Seth and Fleur are all in danger. If Miles gets to you, his first priority will be to do away with you and Seth, then take Fleur. It’s how minds like his work. I’ve been studying psychology in America. Miles Jago, so far, is a textbook case.’

‘Oh my God!’ Emma’s hand flew to her throat the way it always did, searching for her mama’s amethyst necklace that wasn’t there any more; not since the time she’d been attacked by Margaret Phipps in the graveyard of St Mary’s and it had disappeared from around her neck.

But her fingers made smoothing, calming, movements against her skin anyway.

Matthew had come back to her and while they weren’t declaring love for one another it was there between them, she knew it. And now he was telling her to go away.

‘Miles would have no compunction in paying someone to do his dirty work for him,’ Matthew said, allowing Emma her interruption, but not chiding her for it. ‘I can’t think he’s so stupid as to turn up at Mulberry House himself, but my guess is he’s more than likely in some hovel of an inn finding someone to turn up for him right now.’ He reached for the hand at Emma’s neck and gently pulled it away. ‘What happened?’

‘To Mama’s necklace?’

‘Yes. You swore you’d never take it off when I got it back for you from Reuben Jago. Remember?’

Reuben Jago. Would she ever stop hearing that name and feeling sick whenever she did?

‘Of course I remember. You called in a favour with the authorities, so you said, at the time.’

‘If I said it, then it would be true. I’d have thought you’d have taken more care of it, given the circumstances. But you lost it.’

‘I didn’t!’ Emma said.

‘Someone took it from you?’

‘You could say that, yes.’

‘And you’re going to tell me who.’

Emma knew it wasn’t a question, more a demand, but she would tell him anyway. Because she wanted to. So she did. All the fear she’d felt that she was going to be killed, in broad daylight, by Margaret Phipps. Or that Fleur was. It all came pouring out. She detailed her injuries and how she still bore a scar on her forehead from the attack. How Margaret Phipps had been put in an institution somewhere in Plymouth and was never likely to come back out.

And then she backtracked and told Matthew how it was that Fleur (then called Rose by Caroline Prentiss) had been dumped on her – the way a parcel of dirty linen is dumped at the laundry – in the bakery. And how she’d come to love Fleur as her own, because Seth loved the child so. On and on she talked. About her business and how it had taken a knock first by a mysterious fire and then because she’d been so long to recover from the attack. How, just as her business was getting off the ground again, it came crashing back down once more. How she’d been sure as eggs are eggs that after the Smythe wedding more orders for her pastries would come flooding in. But now … now she was going to have to move. She even told him how the vicar up at St Mary’s had refused to marry her and Seth, so they’d had a sham wedding photograph taken. And how Mrs Drew – dear Mrs Drew who Emma had loved so – had spread the news of the wedding while never knowing the truth. But that now Mrs Drew was dead, Emma had no one – apart from Seth, of course, and Ruby – to comfort her.

‘Danger seems to court you, Emma,’ Matthew said, when she stopped to catch her breath.

‘I’m glad you realise it’s that way around.’

‘I do.’

Emma seemed to have a second wind now and she told Matthew that all she wanted for goodness’ sake was a roof over her head and food in her belly and a man she loved – as she did Seth – and who loved her in return. And a business – yes, she wanted that. And a baby of her own. How it hurt her that that didn’t seem to be happening however many times she and Seth tried to make it. She even told Matthew how she’d been to see Dr Shaw and he’d pronounced her fit and well and just to relax about the whole thing and it would happen when the time was right.

But would that time ever come?

And somehow in the telling, Matthew’s arm had slid around her back and she had leant her head against his shoulder.

‘And I’ve worked hard at all those things,’ Emma finished.

‘I don’t doubt it for a second.’

‘And while it might pain me to say it, you are right – danger does seem to court me.’

‘And I,’ Matthew said, ‘am probably the most dangerous of all.’

Dangerous. Emma pondered the word. She was no more in danger from him alone here in the secluded cove than she had been living under the same roof as him at Shingle Cottage. No, that wasn’t what he meant. Matthew had a pull on her heart now and her own heart could so easily leave Seth, leave Fleur, leave her dreams of building up a big business, and follow him to the ends of the earth. For what? To live in fear of whatever dangerous, covert job he would be doing next? Did she want that? Could she break Seth’s heart? Could she live with herself if she did?

They sat in silence for a while. Gulls screeched and reeled in the sky, arguing over a morsel of food no doubt, and a fishing boat – the sound of its steam engine carrying across the water – chugged by in the middle distance.

‘Now we’ve found one another again and neither of us can deny our feelings, can we?’ Emma said, breaking the silence.

‘We have, and we can’t. That kiss, that dance, told us both that.’

‘Don’t,’ Emma said.

There was another long silence.

‘We’re going to have to part,’ she said at last, wanting to be the one to say it.

‘I think we must,’ Matthew said. ‘I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Miles Jago got to you somehow, and I was unable to prevent him doing so.’

‘He won’t,’ Emma said. ‘Because I’m going. With Seth. To Canada. For always.’

‘You are,’ Matthew said. ‘Seth’s already bought the tickets.’

‘He has?’

‘Don’t ever lose your questioning, Emma,’ Matthew said, his voice cracked with emotion. ‘You’d lose part of yourself if you did.’ He gently pushed Emma’s head from his shoulder and removed his arm from around her back.

She felt bereft – almost like a mourning, not having the feel of him against her. But it was the right thing. For Seth. For Fleur. And, possibly, Emma thought, for me. She stood up, and Matthew rose to his feet beside her.

‘Would you kiss me?’ Emma said, moving to face him. ‘Just one more time? Before we part?’

‘And don’t lose your impulsiveness either. You gladden a man’s heart with it. Well, this man’s, anyway. But to answer your question. No.’ Matthew shook his head.

‘Why not?’

‘Because, darling, delectable, Emma, just one kiss wouldn’t be enough. And we both know it.’

‘Pickfords will be here in the morning,’ Seth said, the second Emma entered the house. He’d been standing in the hall, waiting for her, praying she’d return, and had yanked open the door to let her in the second she reached the doorstep.

‘Oh!’ Emma said, and Seth couldn’t be sure if her surprise had been his rather strange greeting or the fact the door had been yanked open so that she’d almost fallen into the house. ‘Must we start packing now? Tonight?’

Seth let his breath out in a long sigh of relief. Emma was coming with him. She’d come home, not to pack her things and leave with Matthew Caunter as he’d feared she might want to, but to him.

To go with him to Canada.

He closed the door behind Emma and taking her elbow, guided her into the drawing room.

‘There’s so much to tell you, sweetheart,’ he said, easing her down onto a couch. ‘I’ve already started packing. While you were …’ Seth paused. While you were down at Crystal Cove with Matthew Caunter talking about things I don’t even want to think about. Doing things that made him feel sick to the stomach about what they might be.

‘While you were out,’ Seth began again. ‘Pickfords delivered some tea chests and I’ve put most of my clothes in one of them. And my ma’s linens. I don’t want to leave those behind. They’ll go on ahead as freight. But we’ll leave much of the furniture. For Olly.’

‘Olly?’ Emma said, but her voice was flat as though she didn’t care a halfpenny piece if the furniture was left for Olly or anyone else.

‘He’s asked to buy the house off me. But what I’ve done – to speed things up – is arrange for the transfer of the deeds to his name. Olly and I have agreed on a price and he’ll send a banker’s draft when he’s got the money together.’

‘I see,’ Emma said. ‘You have been busy.’

‘I had to be,’ Seth said. ‘We’re all in danger. Don’t you understand?’

‘Of course I do. I’m not stupid. I’ve had it explained. Earlier. By …’

Emma didn’t complete her sentence. Seth would know by whom. Instead she clasped her hands together in her lap and stared straight ahead.

Seth wanted to fold Emma into his arms, to tell her he loved her, and he wanted to hear her say she loved him back, but right at this moment he couldn’t be certain she would.

‘You’ve bought our passage,’ Emma said. ‘So I was told.’

‘Yes,’ Seth said.

Emma twisted her hands over and over in her lap and it was as though with each twist Seth’s guts were being tied into knots, too. He hardly dared breathe. Was Emma having second thoughts? Was she going to say she wasn’t coming after all?

It seemed an eternity to Seth before he heard Emma draw a deep breath, ready to speak at last.

‘I haven’t got much to bring,’ she said. ‘Canada’s cold in the winter, even near the coast. The sea freezes. I read about it in a book I borrowed from the library just before Papa was drowned. So I’ll need to buy warmer things when we get there. But summers can be boiling hot. Hotter than here, but only for a short while. They have bears in some parts. And moose. And blackbirds are bigger than they are here. And there are lakes so vast they’re bigger than the whole of England almost. And … oh … oh, Seth … I’m going to miss springtime and primroses and the wild roses of summer. And I’m going to miss Ruby dreadfully – she’s my only friend – and I don’t know how to tell her I’ll be leaving.’

Emma turned to him then and held her arms out towards him and he went to her and folded her in his arms.

But she didn’t yield against him. Her body was stiff. Cold even.

‘I’m sure you’ll find a way. And I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re coming with me,’ Seth said. ‘I told Caunter where I thought you might be. I asked him to tell you the news about Miles. I did that so that you would have the opportunity to choose.’

Emma began to cry then. Noisy wracking sobs and the sound of them seemed to go right through Seth’s chest and out the other side.

‘Choose?’ Emma said, her voice muffled against his body.

She knew what he meant, Seth was sure of it, so he said nothing, while Emma cried some more, her body quivering with the effort now.

‘Between you and Matthew, do you mean?’

‘Mmm,’ was all Seth could get past his lips.

If this new situation hadn’t arisen and they weren’t in danger, might Emma have chosen to be with Caunter? Did he really want to know?

‘Did he kiss you?’ Seth asked at last. ‘Or anything else? Down on Crystal Cove?’ He had to know that.

Emma pulled away from him. What a state her face was in! Her eyes were red-rimmed and the skin on the top of her cheeks looked as though it had been peeled with a potato peeler – at least a couple of layers had been burned off with the acid in her tears. Her hair was dishevelled and her nose was squashed where she’d been held tightly against him. But how much he loved her still.

She looked him in the eye and said, ‘No. No he didn’t.’ And then she pulled herself up off the couch, as though, Seth thought, her body and her mind were almost too heavy for her. ‘I’d better start packing some things,’ she said, her voice flat and – Seth shivered at the realisation – disinterested; she was going with him, but was her heart staying here? With Caunter? ‘How long before we sail?’

‘The boat leaves Bristol on Friday March 7th,’ Seth said.

‘Can’t we go sooner?’ Emma asked, her eyes wide with alarm. ‘That’s nearly three weeks away. We’re in danger, for goodness’ sake! You said so yourself. And Matthew said so, too.’

‘He didn’t tell you we’ll be covertly watched at all times? Guarded. Especially Fleur?’

‘No,’ Emma said. She reached for Seth’s right hand and grasped it tightly between both of hers. ‘Friday March 7th you say?’

‘Yes.’

And that Friday couldn’t come quick enough, could it?