Page 3 of Once an Angel
"The devil take that blasted Winters woman!"
As his soft-spoken master exploded in a burst of temper, Penfeld jumped, rattling the teacups on his
tray. The sea gull marching across the windowsill cocked his head in curious reproach.
Justin Connor threw down the crumpled letter and paced the hut, ruffling his dark hair into wild disarray. "Am I never to be left in peace?"
Penfeld set the tray on the stained tablecloth, fearing for his precious china with Justin's long limbs at
such odds with his gait. "It must have been the gum digger, sir. I told you the man was asking too many questions."
Justin turned with a sweeping gesture that made Penfeld thankful he had eased his sturdy bulk in front
of the tea service. "What makes you think the tenacious Miss Winters would require a mere mortal for her endeavors? She probably spotted me in her crystal ball." He flapped his arms. "I'm only surprised
she posted a letter instead of flying straight over on her broom to fetch me."
Penfeld's lips twitched, but he hid it behind a somber cough.
Justin stabbed an accusing finger at the gull. "Are you one of her familiars, too? No black cats for our indomitable Miss Winters."
The gull tucked his head shyly beneath his wing.
Justin growled. "Ought to wring your scrawny little neck. Put you in the pot for supper." He started for the bird, hands outstretched.
Penfeld cleared his throat meaningfully.
Justin swept up the letter that had been posted from London over five months before and had arrived
per a native runner only that afternoon. "The sheer arrogance of the woman! She insists I retrieve the
girl immediately. She's concocted some fabulous hints about her being involved in a scandal. What could the child have done? Spilled her milk at supper? Pilfered the sugar bowl?"
Penfeld patted his rotund belly fondly. "I was once caned myself for a similar crime."
"The grasping creature. I've sent every halfpenny I could scrape together for the girl's education."
Penfeld already knew that. He had been the one to post the slim envelopes devoid of a return address.
Justin sank down on an upended rum barrel. His shoulders slumped. "She must want more money.
But I've nothing left to sell. What am I to do?"
Penfeld directed all of his attention to polishing the immaculate spout of the teapot with his sleeve. "The Winters woman might not be the only one to learn of your whereabouts. Perhaps your family, sir . . ."
Justin lifted his head and looked at him with amber eyes that were dusted with flecks of ruthless gold.
He spoke with the level enunciation that had been known to freeze the staunchest Maori warrior in his tracks. "I have no family."
For a moment the only sound was the clink of one cup against another. Justin's gaze slowly melted from furious to imploring. "I'm a bachelor. Doesn't that woman understand? I can't be responsible for a child. It's quite impossible. She's far better off staying in England, where she can get a proper education."
Penfeld blew an imaginary speck of dust from the cream pitcher. "And when she's of an age to marry?"
Justin's laughter had a wild edge to it. "We've years to worry about that. She was only three when David died. She can't be more than ten or eleven now." Fueled by purpose, he donned his gold-rimmed spectacles and began to scribble furiously on the back of the paper. "I'm sending a letter back with the runner. The girl stays in the school her father chose for her. It's in her best interest. I'll send more money when I'm able."
"Have you ever thought the child might want a home? A family?"
Justin's pen hung poised over the paper. As he lifted his naked gaze, Penfeld wished he could bite back the words.
