Will was shaking his head. ‘You’ve been kind,’ he said. ‘Kinder than I thought. You shouldn’t be part of this. I’m sorry. I thought I could – I was wrong. I was wrong to—’
‘To?’
There was a sudden loud sound, the unmistakable crunch of wheels on new-raked gravel, coming right towards them.
‘It’s the carriage,’ said Katherine.
‘You should go out and meet them,’ said Will. ‘I’ll go out the back way.’
‘But—’ Will I ever see you again? was a plaintive cry she didn’t want to make. There wasn’t much time. She would pretend that she and Mrs Dupont came back together, which would save her own reputation and Mrs Dupont’s. She lifted her chin. ‘The jacket is a loan.’
From his eyes as he took her hand, she knew that he understood her meaning. ‘Then I’ll have to return it.’
He didn’t kiss her hand the way Lord Crenshaw had done. He just bowed his head over her fingers, his words a promise that they would meet again.
She walked out into the courtyard to meet Mrs Dupont.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘— AFRAID IT’S TOO late for callers—’ said the housekeeper as the door opened, but then her eyes went wide. ‘Violet?’ and then, ‘Mr Ballard! Mr Ballard!’
Violet found herself pulled into the hall amid a flurry of activity, the house waking, doors opening, footsteps clattering, and voices raised all at once.
‘Violet!’ she heard. It was Tom’s voice. She saw his familiar blue eyes wide with shock and recognition. She was immediately in his arms, his hug warm and safe. ‘Oh God. I thought you were dead. I thought you were—’ She found herself clutching him in turn, like a lifeline. ‘They said you jumped back onto the ship—’
‘Tom, I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’
‘It’s all right. You’re safe. You’re home.’
His strong, solid embrace was real, and she gave herself over to it, eyes closed. She had last seen him looking dead and pale on the riverbank, but now he was here, warm and alive. She let herself feel it, the relief of return, the wash of gladness at the genuine concern in his eyes. Nothing mattered but her brother.
‘Violet?’ she heard again, this time in a different voice.
Over Tom’s shoulder, she saw the figure on the stairs, his stern features and greying auburn hair, a dark brown robe over his sleeping clothes. She drew back from Tom’s arms slowly.
‘Father,’ she said.
All she could see when she looked at her father was him standing on the docks coldly ordering Captain Maxwell to track her down. I haven’t kept that bastard girl in my house only to have her die before time. The housekeeper chose that moment to shut the door, and Violet jumped. Her heart was pounding. The trellis wallpaper seemed to crowd in around her as her father approached, and she had to force herself not to step back. He’s going to know, she thought. He’s going to know I’m here to spy on him. At the same time, she told herself, You have to do this. You have to find Marcus. A reminder of her mission.
She let him embrace her and looked up at him with faked smiling relief.
He was smiling back down at her and saying, ‘Welcome home, my child.’
Violet sat in the downstairs drawing room, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the remains of supper on a tray in front of her. Her brother sat next to her on the settee. Their father had drawn up a chair after ordering the servants to relight the fire and the candles and bring down some hot tea, sliced bread and leftover meat cuts from dinner.
‘Eat first,’ he’d insisted, after her injuries were tended, and she had done as she was told, having to feign the hunger, swallowing each bite determinedly. She looked up when she was done with the last of the bread and knew, with a twist in her stomach, that she couldn’t avoid things any longer. She drew in a breath and said the words of the story that she had prepared:
‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop them. They took the boy.’
‘The boy?’ her father said.
Violet was looking at Tom. ‘You told me to protect the cargo. I thought you meant him. That boy. The boy who was chained up in the hold.’
‘Go on,’ said her father, after a moment.
‘The ship was sinking. The boy would have drowned. I went back and broke his chains … I thought I could carry him out. And then they came. They took us both.’
‘Stewards,’ said Tom. The way he said it was the way Justice said Lions.