Chapter Five

The following days were full of amazement and surprise for Hannah. She had never, since the age of three, lived in a household that was full of noise and laughter, where servants were treated as important people, and meals were scenes of lively conversation and good-humored discussions. Captain Clarke spent part of every day at the harbor, overseeing his warehouses and handling shipping and accounts. But when he was home, his voice and laughter could be heard everywhere, as he teased Mrs. Carne and quizzed Alberta and Katie about their suitors. The girls giggled and begged him not to tell their mother that they were in love with this, that, or the other young man. Mrs. Carne scolded him for spoiling her daughters and then marched off with a smile unable to be suppressed. Corey, with the self-importance that came of being his master’s hostler, walked about the stable yard with the captain, explaining the status of each of the horses as regarded health, fitness, and temper, and giving reports on orders of grain and feed. Hannah would see them in such a pose, with the captain listening carefully and nodding in agreement.

Although Hannah admired her host’s carefree style of running his household, she had been indoctrinated in such a different manner of living, she could not help feeling rather shocked at some of the goings-on. One morning, just a few weeks after her arrival, she was making tea in the kitchen at the back of the house when she became aware of an uproar. Captain Clarke’s laughter rang out, mingled with feminine screams and a great deal of thumping. Before Hannah could finish the tea and leave the kitchen to find out what had happened, Katie backed into the kitchen, brandishing her broom and engrossed in a spirited sword fight with the captain, whose weapon was a feather duster.

Hannah moved to protect the teapot as the captain thumped past her, parrying the broom as feathers flew from his weapon. But Katie made a neat lunge and poked his waistcoat. He seized his chest and fell to the floor, groaning out his final moments as she stood over him triumphantly.

Mrs. Carne then appeared in the kitchen doorway, hands on hips and lips white with anger. “Katherine, return to your work immediately! Really, Captain, I cannot have you spoiling the girls so!” She then marched away followed by Katie, who poked the dying captain with her toe as she retreated.

“There’s for you!” she hissed, laughing down at his supine body. “Stealing my feather duster, how dare you!”

Instead of jumping to his feet, Captain Clarke lay on the floor, looking up at Hannah and grinning. The hem of her dress was quite close to his face, and she moved slightly away, still cradling the teapot.

“Is that tea you have there?” he inquired from his horizontal position on the floor.

“Yes, it is, but you’ve been naughty and can’t have any.”

“By naughty, I suppose you mean you’re ashamed of me for losing the sword fight.”

She laughed in spite of herself. “I’m amazed, Captain Clarke, that you, who commands a ship and crew, can disport yourself like a lad at times—and with the servants.”

He remained on the floor, his hands behind his head. “Very different from the household in which you were raised, I’m sure. But the Carnes are my friends as well as employees. Mr. Carne farms my land and is one of the best men who ever lived.”

“I’m sure he is. I like all of them very much. But is it not—unwise—to become too familiar with servants?”

He jumped to his feet and brushed off his clothes. “I suppose it would be in England, where servants are treated as possessions. But here it’s different. A man—or woman—is judged on his or her merits and not by title or rank. The Carnes take care of my home and farm, which allows me to sail the seas and make money to support all of us. In fact, the youngest Carne son, Patrick, will go to sea with me in another year. In time, I will give Carne some of the acreage he now farms. The family will then become landowners and will take their place as important residents of the village.”

She studied his earnest face. “I should like to meet your mother and father,” she said slowly. “I’d like to meet the two people who raised such a son. You’re so democratic in your ideas, and yet you were concerned about preserving my rights as a lady. Is there not some disparity in your thinking?”

“I don’t believe there is, for one can be democratic but still practical. While I’ll endeavor to raise the Carnes in station because I know them to deserve it, I’ll not conspire in lowering the station of an English lady of gentle birth.”

“Was it Shakespeare who wrote that ‘a lady is as a lady does’? Perhaps my disobedience is such as would deprive me of the advantages of birth.”

“No,” he replied, looking seriously into her face. “Your disobedience rather enhanced it, for it demonstrated your unwillingness to marry for material gain. It proved you’re a person of sensitivity and integrity. In refusing to marry Lord Earling and by leaving your guardians’ home to escape, you showed not only courage, but also a…a fineness of mind and an awareness of how wrong it is to marry without love. Although you were taught otherwise by your guardians, you were too intelligent and refined to follow such a practice as they recommended.”

“Oh dear!” cried Hannah laughingly, “I’m afraid you give me far too much credit! I didn’t think of right or wrong, but only of my own feelings.”

“Precisely my point. Your feelings led you right.”

She was silent, and after a moment he added, “I have the afternoon free. Would this be a good time to talk of your childhood? I have many questions to ask, and if you’re not opposed to answering them, perhaps I can begin my interrogation today.”

“Certainly. I’ll tell you whatever I can, but my earliest memories are of the Godders. I don’t remember my parents at all.”

“No matter, I have many questions about them also. ’Tis a fine day to walk along the river, quite warm for December. You can enjoy a stroll during my inquisition, if you are amenable.”

She went upstairs for her cloak, and soon they were wandering along the river, watching the terns and gulls diving for prey. A covey of ducks hurried into the water as they approached, and a sailing skiff sped by, leaning into the breeze.

“Let’s do this systematically,” he said finally. “Will you please tell me everything that the Godders told you? Your parents’ names, where they died, how you happened to be entrusted to the Godders’ care, etc.”

“I’m not sure exactly what I was told when,” she replied slowly. “But the gist is, up until I was three years old, I lived in India with my parents, and Mr. and Mrs. Godder were their close friends and compatriots.”

“Were you born in India?”

“No, Mrs. Godder said I was born in London—or so she thought.”

“Pray continue.”

“My parents died during a cholera epidemic, and there was no one to care for me except the Godders. They fled India with me to avoid being stricken themselves.”

“Do you have a memory of living in any other house?”

“No. My earliest memory is of Mrs. Godder reading to me in the library of Pinley House.”

“Do you dream of other houses or of other people?”

“I do dream, of course. But dreams are full of nonsense and mean little, to be sure.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. I think it’s possible that memories can emerge in dreams—memories that are not available to the mind during wakefulness.”

“Do you think so? That’s quite interesting because I have a recurring dream but ’tis vague and unclear. In it, someone—I don’t know who—is calling ‘Helena’ over and over.”

“Helena. Was that your mother’s name?”

“No, her name was Cassandra, so Mrs. Godder says.”

“And your father’s name?”

“Edward Winstead.”

“What were they and the Godders doing in India?”

“Mr. Godder said he and my father were engaged in business, but he abandoned the project after my father died.”

“Did he say what sort of business?”

“No, but I’ve heard him speak to Lord Earling of the difficulties of growing tea plants in India. I think it’s likely he and my father were engaged in running a plantation.”

“Where in England did your parents hail from? Had you no relatives?”

“I asked Mrs. Godder that question when I was about twelve years old. She replied that she and her husband didn’t know their friends’ origins. She said when she and Mr. Godder returned to England with me, they tried to find relations of mine so they could turn me over to my own family for care and upbringing. But none were found.”

“How very odd. How could it be possible that your parents, who must have been very young when they died, could have had no living relations?”

“Perhaps they did, but the Godders did not know where to look for them.”

He was silent and thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Have you inquired into your father’s property? How came the Godders to declare you were penniless?”

“Yes, I inquired. I asked Mr. Godder if there might be some property in India owned by my father. He replied that all had been lost. He said something about a drop in the market which I didn’t understand.”

“I’m surprised. You’re so well versed on so many subjects.”

“But I’ve never had access to newspapers and journals. I know little of what goes on in the world, only what I’ve learned from stealing Mr. Godder’s London Times whenever I had an opportunity.”

He laughed heartily at the idea of Hannah creeping stealthily away with a forbidden newspaper clutched in her arms. However, his amused expression soon turned to one of perplexity as he tried to make sense of the Godders’ opposition to her attempts to become informed.

“It seems your guardians have kept you very much out of the world. This doesn’t fit with their professed desire to marry you off. If they wanted a husband for you, they had only to take you into public when you were sixteen. A young woman with your beauty, even with little or no dowry, would soon have captured the heart of an eligible young man.”

“My beauty! Pray do not flatter me. I’m very aware I’m not a beauty!”

He stopped and stared at her. “Where did you get that impression?”

“From Mr. Godder. He often remarked, ‘Although you are no beauty, Hannah, you are well enough looking to be married in time.’ ”

“Was the man blind, stupid, or a liar? I suspect the latter. And what did Mrs. Godder say on the subject?”

“She was much kinder. She would tell me I was quite pretty in a different sort of way.”

“And what does your mirror tell you?”

She glanced at him, suddenly embarrassed. “My mirror tells me the same. I see nothing of beauty in my image.”

“You see what you’ve been told to see, but the truth is, Hannah, you are very lovely indeed.”

“No. You’re being kind. I do not believe you.”

“That’s well, perhaps, for I wouldn’t want to make you vain. And beauty is nothing without sweetness of manner, intelligence, and integrity.” He paused, as though his mind were suddenly far away. He stared off across the river for a moment and then seemed to pull himself back to the present. “It disturbs me that the Godders would give you such an impression of yourself. It almost seems as though they were deliberately misleading you so you’d be afraid to refuse Earling.”

“Mrs. Godder did tell me that he’d probably be my only chance to wed.”

He laughed. “Good lord! The gall of the woman!”

They walked on for a few minutes in silence. Aaron found a few rocks and skipped them across the water. Hannah tried to do the same and laughed when her stone dropped immediately out of sight. They stopped to watch a flock of geese land, their great wings arching as they alighted on the silver surface of the river.

Ambling onward, Aaron resumed his questioning.

“Can you remember the name of the place in India where your parents died? Or has it ever been told to you?”

“No. I showed Mr. Godder a map of India one day when I was perhaps fourteen years old and asked him to point it out to me. He said that it was a small outpost and probably not on the map, and he could not recall the name.”

“And what did the Godders tell you of their own origins?”

“Very little. I had not courage enough to question them closely. They seemed to have been always in or about London except when they were in India.”

Aaron stopped and took her hand in his. “Hannah, this is very important. Did the Godders ever ask you to sign any papers? Any at all?”

“No, none that I can remember.”

He sighed. “That would’ve been too easy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I suspect you do own property of some sort, and the Godders have found some means of usurping it.”

“But how could they?”

“Forgery, lies, tricks…The devious mind can always find a way.”

She was silent, lost in shock. How naïve she had been to simply believe everything she’d been told!

He helped her onto an iron bench that faced the river and settled beside her. “Tell me about your education. Did you have a governess?”

“Yes, until I was twelve. I liked her very much; she was an excellent teacher. But she ran away with someone—I don’t know with whom. It was a scandal, according to Mrs. Godder.”

“What was her name?”

“Miss Dawkins. She was very kind and pretty.”

“Dawkins. Something about that name is familiar to me. You’re seventeen, so that would have been five years ago that she ran away. I must ask my father if he knows anything of this scandal.”

They sat silently for a few minutes, watching the early sunset turn the river to gold. Then, when Hannah shivered, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Come, Miss Hannah,” he said playfully. “Although you survived a nocturnal rainstorm during your adventure in England, I wouldn’t have you become chilled. It’s time for dinner.”

“Very well, Captain Clarke.”

“Do call me Aaron.”

“Very well—Aaron—but one thing I haven’t told you.”

“What?” he asked, his face expressing his surprise.

“I’m ashamed to tell you. I fear that your good opinion of me will be tarnished.”

“I promise you it won’t. Now speak, for I’m dying of curiosity.”

She looked up at him and then dropped her eyes. “When I was eleven or twelve, I saw Mr. Godder reading a letter that seemed to disturb him greatly. I was in the library when he entered with the letter, but I was sitting on the floor looking through a lower shelf and was out of sight behind a sofa.”

“Go on.”

“I peeked around the sofa when I heard him enter. He was pale and sweating. He dropped the letter on a table, cursed, and left the room, calling for Mrs. Godder.”

“And you read the letter?”

“Yes. But I did worse than that—I stole it. The Godders looked high and low for it, but they never found it. I hid it behind a loose stone in the fireplace in my chamber.”

“Dear God! I’m almost afraid to ask! Have you the letter still?”

“Yes. Would you like to see it?”

“Indeed I would!”

Taking Hannah’s arm, Aaron hurried her forward to the house.

Aaron waited in his study for Hannah to fetch the letter. When she entered, he took it from her silently and seating himself in a leather armchair, perused it. He was surprised to see that it was written in block letters, but this, he supposed, was a childish attempt on the part of the writer to disguise his or her handwriting.

After reading the note twice, he looked up.

“Have you any idea what this means?”

“No, none at all.”

Aaron turned again to the letter. He read aloud.

Godder,

I will not stand on ceremony. I have no desire to make certain facts public; however, my terms must be met. I desire two things, and I believe you know what they are.

I await your response,

E.

“Do you think the letter came from Lord Earling?” Aaron asked.

“I don’t know.”

“If this message is from Earling, then it seems clear that one of the prizes referred to is yourself. But what was the other? And what did Earling know about the Godders in order to wield such a weapon?”

“I wish I could tell you. I’ve never seen the slightest hint of trouble in their lives. I’ve had no reason to suspect them of any behavior that would lead to blackmail.”

“And it’s important we don’t form conclusions based on fancy rather than fact. But Hannah, you must have had some reason to take this letter. I don’t believe you’re ordinarily in the habit of stealing—except for the London Times, of course.”

“No, but I have no real excuse for my behavior. It was an impulsive act. I simply couldn’t bear to be always left out of things. Whatever Mr. Godder was upset about, I knew I wouldn’t be told. I longed to be…part of life…the good and the bad.”

Aaron’s eyes were on her face as she spoke, and when she finished, she raised her eyes to his. She saw a certain light in his eyes, as if he were beginning to understand something. Before either could speak, a knock sounded on the study door.

“Come in.”

Alberta entered, carrying a letter on a tray.

“Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but this express just arrived. ’Tis from Boston.”

Hannah saw Aaron’s face change. She could not read his sudden expression. Fear? Worry? She watched as he slowly took the letter.

“Thank you, Alberta.”

The housemaid left, and Hannah rose to depart also. Aaron did not look up as she slipped from the room. She went quickly to her chamber, wondering, as she hurried along, what sort of distress had been delivered to Captain Clarke in the form of that innocent-looking letter.