The Illegitimate Montague. Sarah MalloryЧитать онлайн книгу.
singing on the fire, a sure sign that his mother would be returning soon. Suddenly his neck cloth was a little too tight and he ran a finger around his collar. What if she was still angry with him? What if she turned him out? Their last meeting was still clear in his mind.
He had been full of hope for the future, but he had not anticipated the shock and anxiety in her face when he told her he had quit the navy.
‘I want only what is best for you, my son.’
Her concern flayed his spirit and he turned on her.
‘If that was true you would have provided me with a father!’ He might as well have struck her, but the angry words kept coming. ‘Tell me the truth for once. Was there ever a Mr Stratton?’
‘No.’ Her lip had trembled as she confessed.
Thinking back, Adam wished he had cut out his tongue rather than continue, but then, with the red mist in his brain, he had ploughed on.
‘So who is my father? Who am I?’
The shock and pain in her eyes still sliced into him like a knife.
‘I cannot tell you. I gave a solemn vow on the Bible that I would never say.’
Even now the memory of her anguished whisper was etched in his memory. At the time he had been determined that it should not touch him, but it had. It had splintered his heart.
He heard the familiar firm step in the corridor, the jingle of keys. The door opened and Hannah Stratton entered the room.
Adam stood very still, gazing at his mother. She looked only a little older than when he had last seen her, a little more silver amongst the dark blond hair, so like his own, and a few more lines around the blue eyes that were now fixed on him. At first they widened, registering surprise. He held his breath. She might reject him. What right had he to expect anything more, after a decade of silence?
Only the soft ticking of the clock told him that time was passing as he waited in an agony of apprehension for her response. Eventually, after a lifetime, she raised her hands and clasped them against her breast.
‘Adam.’
It was uttered so softly that he thought perhaps he had imagined it. He ran his tongue over his dry lips.
‘Yes, it is I, Mother.’ His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears. ‘If you will own me after all this time.’
Tears darkened her eyes to the colour of a summer sea. She gave a tremulous smile.
‘Adam, oh, Adam, my boy!’ She opened her arms to him. In two strides he crossed the room and hugged her, relief flooding his soul.
‘Oh, let me look at you!’ Between tears and laughter she held him away. ‘My, how you have grown!’
His laughing response was a little unsteady.
‘Devil a bit, madam, I was two-and-twenty when I last saw you. I haven’t grown any taller since then.’
‘No, but you have grown out,’ she told him, her hands squeezing the muscle beneath the sleeves of his coat. ‘But ten years, Adam, Ten years! And never a word.’
‘I know, Mother. It was so very wrong of me. Can you ever forgive me?’
She shook her head.
‘No, nor myself. Those lost years can never be regained. But we both spoke hard words, and I regretted mine almost as soon as they were uttered.’
‘Yours were no more than the truth, Mother. I have so much more to regret. I was such a damned proud fool that I could not turn back.’
‘If only you had written to me, told me where you were. That has been the hardest part, not knowing.’
‘And I can only beg your pardon for that—it was thoughtless of me and I regret it now, most bitterly. I was determined to prove myself, to show you what a success I had made of my life before we met again. What an arrogant fool I was.’
Hannah reached up to push back a lock of hair from his brow.
‘There is a trace of red in that blond thatch of yours, Adam. It is in mine too. When the temper is up we are both too hot to be reasonable.’
‘When I told you I had quit the navy you were so … upset. I felt I had let you down.’
‘No, no.’ She fell silent for a moment. ‘I was … shocked. The navy was your life, and had been since you were twelve years old. And you were doing so well. A captain at twenty—’
‘I know, ma’am, but my advancement was due to the death of other, better officers. Comrades, friends—all perished. After Trafalgar I had had enough of war, of death. I wanted to be building something, not destroying it.’
‘And is that what you have been doing?’
She sat down, beckoning to him to pull up a chair beside her.
‘Of course, and very successfully.’ He saw her eyes stray to his coat. ‘Ah, I do not look like a successful gentleman, is that it? I’m afraid I ran into a spot of trouble on the way here. Nothing serious,’ he added quickly, seeing her anxious look. ‘Trust me, Mother, I have coats more fitting to a man of means, which I am now.’
‘Then I am sorry that I doubted you.’
‘No, no, your doubts were perfectly justified. It was wrong of me to storm off in a rage.’
‘You were a young man, fresh from the triumph of Trafalgar and full of plans for the future. Of course you were impatient of an old woman’s caution.’ She hesitated. ‘And never knowing your father—’
He flinched away, as if the words burned him.
‘Let us not go there, Mother. The circumstances of my birth were not important to the navy, and they mean nothing at all to me now.’
‘Truly?’
He saw the shadow of doubt in her eyes and was determined to reassure her. He had inflicted enough pain already and had no wish to reopen the old wounds. So he smiled, saying earnestly, ‘Truly. The people I deal with are only interested in how much cotton I can produce for them.’
‘Adam, I—’
‘No.’ He put his fingers to her lips. ‘Let us say no more of it. We have not discussed it these thirty years, it is an irrelevance. Instead let me apologise to you again for my long silence. I was headstrong, angry that you doubted me and I wanted to prove I could make something of my life. At first I did not write to you because I was not sure I would succeed. Then, it seemed I had left it too long, I did not know how to explain… .’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘So I thought I should come in person to tell you how successful I have become. And I am successful, Mother, more so than I ever dared to imagine.’ He glanced down at his coat and gave a rueful laugh. ‘More than this shabby garb suggests.’ He leaned forward and took her hands. ‘And now I want you to share in my success. I want you to come back to Rossendale with me. I have bought a property there, a small gentleman’s residence, quite snug and comfortable.’ He read the hesitation in her face and stopped. ‘That is, if you can ever forgive me for running away from you like a petulant child.’
‘You were hurt that I doubted you,’ she said, smiling.
‘Your doubts were well founded. How was either of us to know that manufacturing would suit me so well? I was full of arrogant confidence, but it could all have gone so wrong.’
‘And instead it has gone right?’
‘It has, Mother, it has! And that is why I am here now.’ He grinned, pushing out his chest. ‘I said I would return, Mother, once I had a house worthy of you.’
‘Foolish boy, you know I never asked that of you.’
‘No, but I demanded it on your behalf. Look around you. Your quarters here are far superior to many a gentleman’s house. It has taken