Chapter 14
Secrets and revelations.
Anne was rather delighted at King’s start of surprise when Mr Peacock, the greengrocer, hailed him from the other side of the street.
“Well done, sir! The town thanks you for stopping a madman from running amok,” he said, beaming genially at King.
King nodded and returned an awkward smile of thanks, only to have similar words called to him on turning the corner, this time from a fellow he didn’t recognise at all.
“Who was that?” he demanded.
“Major Hancock. He’s a lovely old fellow, a great pal of Captain Dearborn’s. He retired here several years ago.”
Glancing down at Anne with a bemused expression, King picked up his pace.
“You’re the town’s hero,” she said in amusement. “Aren’t you glad?”
“No,” he grumbled. “I think I preferred it when they hated me.”
Anne laughed. She knew he very much disliked the attention but suspected he was not as dismayed as he made out…
though perhaps that was more for her sake than his own.
She had noted the way people’s heads bent together upon seeing them arm-in-arm again.
This very public little excursion to the vicarage at such an early hour of the morning would be bound to have everyone in an uproar in no time at all.
“We must put a notice in the Valentine Morning Star. That way we shan’t have to keep answering impertinent questions,” she said, patting his arm.
“The sooner we are married, the better,” he said crossly, fixing a rigid smile to his face and waving his thanks at an elderly lady who simply said ‘huzzah!’ upon seeing him.
“This is ridiculous. We must go away on honeymoon. With luck, by the time we get back, all the fuss will have died down, and they’ll have someone else to gossip about. ”
“Honeymoon?” Anne echoed, staring at him in delight. “Where shall we go?”
He shrugged. “Wherever you like.”
“Italy?” she asked, breathless at the idea. “I have always longed to see Italy.”
“Italy then,” he said with a nod. “Sounds fine.”
“But… we’ll be back in time—?”
“In time to open the hotel,” he finished for her with a laugh. “Whatever do you take me for? Of course we will. But we’ll escape the worst of the English winter and not return until the spring. How’s that?”
“Oh, perfect!” Anne said in delight. “How simply perfect.”
King gazed down at her, an expression in his eyes that suggested he thought it was rather perfect too.
“Will you worry about Mr Marwick if we go away?” she asked him, knowing he felt responsible for the young man.
He frowned, shaking his head. “Alfie knows he needs to keep his head down for a time, and Silas Mourney is not such a fool that he’d make an enemy of me willingly. So long as Alfie stays put, he’s in no danger, I reckon. Hopefully, his sister will keep him in line.”
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Anne said reassuringly. “Far cleverer and more capable than she lets on, I think.”
“Good,” King said, swinging open the gate. It squeaked alarmingly, announcing their arrival to the residents.
A moment later, the front door opened, and the Reverend Honeywell appeared. He looked from King to Anne and back again. “I knew it!” he exclaimed, his face lighting up. “I knew it!” he crowed again, turning and hurrying into the house. “Izzy! Izzy! Fetch the champagne I put aside!”
King and Anne glanced at each other in amusement before following him inside.
“Oh, my dears, how delightful!” he said, embracing Anne as warmly as if she had been his own daughter. “I cannot tell you how happy I am for you. Anne, this is a wonderful thing. You have yourself a very fine man there, I’d swear it.”
“Steady on,” King protested, and Anne felt her heart swell with love for him as she saw the tinge of colour cresting his cheeks. “I’m the lucky one here. This poor girl is to be pitied, surely?”
“Pooh!” Honeywell exclaimed, looking disgusted by the sentiment, before turning and yelling down the stairs again. “Izzy! Champagne!”
“I’m coming, Papa!” retorted his harassed daughter, who appeared a moment later clutching an unopened champagne bottle. “Whatever is the matter? Why do you—oh!” she exclaimed upon seeing Anne and King together. Her eyes grew very wide as she stared at Anne.
“We’re to be married,” Anne explained gently, for the girl looked entirely baffled.
Izzy gave a delighted squeal and launched herself at Anne, hugging her tightly. “Oh, wonderful, wonderful news! Congratulations!” she said happily, before glancing at King and looking rather intimidated.
“Thank you for the happiness of your reaction,” King said with a warm smile. “It was very touching.”
Izzy grinned sheepishly. “You’re welcome. Oh, but Anne, you wicked creature. I had no notion. How dare you keep such secrets?” She gasped then, putting her hand to her mouth and looking suddenly crestfallen. “Oh, you’re not going away too?”
Anne shook her head, understanding at once, for both Izzy’s sisters had married this year. Splendid marriages, and happy ones too, but they had new lives now, away from Little Valentine, and Izzy missed them dreadfully.
“No, of course not,” Anne said at once. “Whoever would run the hotel? And there’s our club to consider.”
Izzy gave a sigh of relief. “I’m so glad. I cannot imagine why anyone would wish to leave Little Valentine. I shall stay here forever, with my dearest papa,” she said stoutly, taking her father’s arm.
“Ah, sweet girl. I should never be so selfish,” Honeywell said with a smile. “But I confess, I should be glad if your husband, whoever he might be, remained in the town so you might be near your old pa.”
“Whoever he might be!” Izzy repeated with a snort. “That is the question.”
“For another day,” the reverend said firmly. “Today, we have a wedding to plan. Give me that bottle, my dear.”
“Isn’t it a little early?” Anne said, laughing as the reverend led them into the front parlour.
“For champagne? Never!” replied the reverend firmly, which was answer enough.
It was several days later before King called upon the vicarage again. It had taken some persuading to get Anne to agree to let him deal with it himself, but finally she had given in.
“Jasper, my good fellow. This is a pleasant surprise,” the reverend said, getting up from behind his desk and coming to greet him.
“I’m not disturbing you, I hope?” King asked, eyeing the teetering piles of correspondence that seemed to be arranged in haphazard mountain ranges upon his desk.
“Not from anything I have any desire to continue doing,” the reverend replied with a chuckle. “In truth, I have been counting the minutes, because it is just about—” A knock at the door made the fellow give an irrepressible smile of satisfaction. “Tea time!” he said merrily, hurrying to the door.
A young maid came in, hefting a heavy tray laden with a teapot, cups and saucers, and a splendid array of cakes and biscuits.
“Anything else, sir?” the girl asked politely.
“No, no indeed, Polly, that will do very well.”
Bobbing a curtsey, the girl hurried out again, and Honeywell invited King to sit down and make himself at home. “Well, you’ll take tea with me, I hope? There’s something a mite stronger we can take a sip of later,” he added with a wink.
King laughed. “I’d be pleased to, though I’ve some things I need to discuss with you that are a touch, er… delicate.”
“Well, no time like the present. Shall I be mother?” he asked, giving King a dubious look before nodding. “Yes, I think I better had,” he said, answering his own question and adding several lumps of sugar to both cups.
King waited while he prepared the tea, taking with thanks the steaming cup the reverend offered, but refusing the cakes for the moment. He needed to get this over with first.
“Is this anything to do with Mrs Adamson?” the reverend asked cautiously, giving him a significant look over the rim of his cup.
King looked back at him, unblinking. “What do you mean?” he asked, wondering what the old devil knew and how on earth he knew it.
The reverend looked innocently back at him. “That she has never been married a day in her life,” he replied bluntly.
“Well, I—” King began and then stopped as he recognised how pleased the reverend was at having surprised him. “You mean to say, all these years Anne has counted on you lending her your support, believing all this time that she was deceiving you, and you knew?”
“From the very first,” Honeywell said placidly, though his expression grew serious.
“To be clear, I did not know for certain, yet I strongly suspected, but she was such a delightful young woman, and so brave. It was clear to me she had run away from something, or someone, and she was so obviously a dear and kind creature, I knew she would never have done so without good reason. This world of ours judges people, women especially, upon standards a saint would balk at. I was not about to see the inhabitants of this town treat her harshly when she had so much to give to us all.”
King felt a swell of affection and gratitude for the old man and let out a huff of amusement. “Is there anything you don’t know?” he demanded, half in jest.
“Naturally,” Honeywell replied with a smile. “Though I confess I do know how a certain fellow got himself tangled in his own fishing nets and, er… drowned.”
King stilled, a sensation akin to iced water sliding over his skin.
The reverend shook his head, setting down his teacup. “Good heavens, don’t look so alarmed. I knew I ought to have fetched the brandy out before I told you. Forgive me. Wait just a moment and I shall get it.”
He hurried over to a dark wood cabinet, rummaging inside as bottles clinked and giving an exclamation of satisfaction as he appeared once more, the bottle in hand.
“How?” King asked, his heart thudding unevenly as he considered who else might know if the reverend did.
For Honeywell might be trusted, even in this, but anyone else…
. He felt sick. Not now, he cursed, not when everything was going so perfectly.
“Were you there that night?” he asked, hoping against hope.
“No,” Honeywell replied, uncorking the bottle. “But there is a deal of smuggling in this neck of the woods, you know, and the beach at night— Well, it’s never quite as empty as you might imagine.” He poured two healthy measures and passed one to King.
King took it from him and downed it in one swallow. “Am… Am I or anyone else in any danger of—”
“Good heavens, no,” Honeywell said, giving the glass a look of anticipation but reaching resolutely for his teacup.
“You and Captain Dearborn are quite safe, I promise you. Indeed, the person I speak of has nothing but admiration for you and is as relieved as many are that such an unpleasant man is no longer here to trouble his poor wife. He told me it was accidental, by the way,” he added reassuringly.
“It was,” King said faintly, hardly able to believe his ears. “Dearborn was only protecting himself. Bill fell and hit his head. He was dead the moment he landed. There was nothing to be done.”
The reverend nodded, his expression grave. “Poor, unhappy soul. One must pray he finds the peace he never found in life, but I confess it is a difficult thing to regret his passing. I have asked forgiveness for it.”
“I don’t regret it, and I’ll ask forgiveness of no one for thinking it,” King replied.
“But I feel damned uneasy, knowing someone is aware of this. What if they change their minds and decide it’s something that needs to be made known in the future?
I won’t see Anne embarrassed by such a scandal!
” “Hush, my friend. Listen to me. The person you are so afraid of has secrets of his own. He will never betray you, or Captain Dearborn. Upon that, I give you my word of honour, as he gave his. He is an honourable man.”
King studied the reverend, considering this, considering everyone he knew and who it could possibly be. “Boreas,” he said.
The reverend only lifted his teacup to his lips once more. “Do try the fruitcake. It’s one of Mrs Addie’s specialities,” he replied, smiling benignly.