The Pirate's Daughter. Helen DicksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
again—which she sincerely hoped would be the case—she would thank him for his kindness.
After unloading the carriage and placing the baggage in the drive, the midshipman climbed back on to the seat beside the driver and headed back to Bridgetown. At the same time as the visitors entered the house, a petite, elegant lady with a vivacious air, in middle age, breezed into the hall. The faint scent of roses surrounded her, floating from her lilac silk gown. It was the fragrance that always reminded Cassandra of Meredith, the scent of home, comfort and love. A host of memories stirred in her heart, and her conscience pricked her, sharp in its sting, for she sincerely hoped Meredith had forgiven her for disappearing like she had.
‘I am Julia Courtly,’ the lady murmured, introducing herself immediately and greeting Cassandra with unfeigned pleasure, a delighted smile dawning on her face, much of her youthful beauty still very much in evidence.
Cassandra felt a pair of brown eyes scrutinising her curiously. ‘I am Cassandra Everson, Lady Courtly, and this is Rosa, my companion. I must offer my deep apologies that we should impose ourselves on you uninvited, but I am here to see my cousin, Sir John Everson. I believe he is staying here at Courtly Hall.’
Lady Courtly looked most surprised. ‘He certainly is, my dear, but John never said you were coming.’
Cassandra had the grace to look contrite. ‘He—he doesn’t know. I thought I would surprise him.’
‘And he will be. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to welcome you to Courtly Hall,’ Lady Courtly said effusively. ‘We will not trouble ourselves as to why you have come to Barbados or how, but will see that your visit is an enjoyable one.’
‘John—is here?’ Cassandra enquired tentatively.
‘Yes, I do believe so, but not here in the house. He prefers to stay in a bungalow in the grounds.’ Her eyes went past Cassandra to Rosa, who looked as if she were about to wilt. ‘Mercy! You must think me atrociously lacking in manners. Please forgive me. You will be tired and in dire need of refreshment after your journey. Come into the drawing room.’ She ushered them inside, turning to Henry and instructing him to have refreshments sent in.
The interior of the room was cool and elegant, with exquisite silk hangings, pictures and gilt mirrors, carpets and furniture shipped over from England and France years before, a tribute to the family’s good taste.
‘You must be made comfortable at once,’ Lady Courtly said. ‘I shall see that rooms are prepared while you take some refreshment.’
Cassandra smiled her gratitude. She hadn’t expected to be greeted so warmly. ‘I thank you for your kind thought,’ she said in a low voice, ‘but Rosa and I really don’t wish to be any trouble. It was an exceedingly irresponsible action on my part to come here without a proper invitation. We will be perfectly content to stay with John.’
‘What! In that poky bungalow where there isn’t room for a body to turn round? Absolutely not. I’ll not hear of it. You are John’s cousin and there is no better place for you to stay than under this roof. Besides, with my son and his wife away in England at present, the house is much too quiet.’ Impulsively Lady Courtly put out her hand and laid it on Cassandra’s, her smile warm and entrancing. ‘I shall so enjoy having you stay and introducing you to our friends, and you can tell me all about what is happening in England.’
‘Thank you, Lady Courtly. I will speak to John.’
‘Of course you will, and I know he will agree that it is best you stay here. Oh, and my name is Julia, by the way. Lady Courtly sounds pompous and so formal, I always think. The three of you will dine here later—and then you can meet my husband.’
After partaking of much-needed refreshment, Cassandra and Rosa were directed to John’s bungalow some distance from the house by a shy young houseboy. The small building was almost hidden by the surrounding trees and sweet-scented flowering shrubs, and all manner of hanging and climbing creepers, with blossoms as dark as crimson or white as snow. The air was heavy with their perfume and the droning of bees.
Thanking the boy, who scuttled away, Cassandra stepped on to the verandah, welcoming the cool tranquillity of the shade it offered. Two bamboo rocking chairs stood side by side, and a hammock hung from a nearby tree. Gingerly she stepped through the open door, unprepared for the exotic strangeness of the bungalow, of its smell of lemons and musk. The polished wooden floor was strewn with gaily-coloured woven mats, and curtains fluttered in the gentlest of breezes at the open windows. Brocade upholstered divans scattered with corded and tasselled cushions stood against the walls.
Emerging from an adjoining room, hastily fastening his breeches, John’s appearance was dishevelled, his eyes languid. Cassandra laughed with delight on seeing her cousin, of whom she was extremely fond. Her delight was shortlived. The effect her arrival had on the man who was twelve years her senior was one of incredulity and absolute horror. Despite the heat and John’s natural high colour, his rapidly whitening wide-eyed face was enough to unsettle Cassandra’s composure.
Smiling apprehensively, she moved towards him, hoping for an embrace, but John did not laugh, and nor did the coffee-skinned, scantily clad young woman who had come to stand behind him, who was staring at Cassandra in wondrous awe.
John’s righteous display of anger fairly shook his body, for the mere fact that Cassandra had arrived unheralded on Barbados at all was bad enough, but that she should come upon him while he was savouring the welcoming and undemanding delights of his native mistress in the middle of the day was embarrassing to say the least.
‘Cassandra! Confound it!’ he exploded. ‘What in damnation are you doing here?’
‘Please, John, don’t be angry with me. Let me explain—’
‘Explain? Explain what?’ he shouted as the young woman behind him slipped back into the bedroom, her bare feet a whisper on the floorboards. ‘Nothing you have to say can justify your appearance. How dare you come all this way without my knowledge or approval? It simply will not do. Your astounding conduct is reckless and foolhardy to say the least. You always were too stubborn and headstrong for your own good, but I thought you’d more sense than to do something like this. What if I had returned to England—or been carried off by one of the infernal diseases that are forever rampant in the tropics?’
‘Then I would have no choice but to return to England myself. Oh, come now, John,’ she pleaded. ‘Tell me you are pleased to see me.’
John was unappeased by her apparent calm; in fact, it only increased his anger. He moved closer, glaring at her. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses? Have you gone mad? How can you expect me to be pleased to see you when you arrive unheralded and unattended? What in God’s name possessed you?’
Ignoring his anger, Cassandra risked a little smile, hoping that with a little gentle coercing she would succeed in placating him. After all, it had always worked in the past.
‘I am not unattended, John. As you see,’ she said sweetly, indicating her young companion who was hovering fearfully in the doorway, afraid to enter further inside the room lest he vent his anger on her also, ‘I have Rosa as my companion.’
John’s eyes merely flicked to Rosa’s stiff figure before it returned to savage his cousin. He continued to glare at her, the taut set of his face warning her of the control he was holding over his temper. He kept his voice steady when he next spoke, but its tone, like his expression, was like steel. ‘Then tell me, what has brought you to Barbados?’ Suddenly his eyes filled with alarm as a thought occurred to him, and he took a step closer. ‘Is it Meredith?’ he asked, thinking something terrible might have befallen his beloved sister. ‘Has something happened to my sister?’
Cassandra was quick to reassure him. ‘No—no, of course not. Do not worry yourself. When I left London Meredith was away visiting your grandmother. The last I saw of her she was quite well. My—reason for coming here was because—well—I had a desire to see something of the Caribbean for myself. That is all.’
‘Do you mean to tell me you have travelled all this