Page 26 of The Captain of Betrayal
He patted his stomach, which was flat as a washboard, causing Emily to giggle.
"It's almost as if you didn't expect to feed five people," Emily observed as she picked up a plate and began heaping it with cucumbers and tomatoes. Polly bit her lip to keep from smiling; her sister could be most observant--even when she did not realise she was being so.
The group munched silently on what food there was, passing remarks on the meat--delicious--and the strawberries--perfectly ripe. Once they were finished, and they had packed the plates and cutlery back into the basket, the group headed back up the cliff path, to the waiting carriage.
Polly paused as she reached the top of the cliffs, turning her face out to the sea, which glimmered in the afternoon sun. The beauty of Cornwall never failed to take her breath away; there was an untamed wildness to the coastline and the sea was endless, stretching all the way to America. She turned, as Poppy or Alexandra called her name, and as she did so, she caught sight of a figure on horseback making their way down the cliff path.
"It's Lord Keyford," she said to James, forgetting that he would not know who Lord Keyford was. At his confused look, she explained that Keyford was the father of the late Duchess of Everleigh and that, for a time, Polly had acted as her companion.
She did not have a chance to explain anything else, before the older man was upon them, giving greetings in his usual, stiff manner.
"Beautiful weather, my Lord," Polly responded, hoping that he would soon be on his way; she had yet to prepare supper and Lord Keyford was inclined toward long, rambling conversations that had no point or purpose.
"Indeed, it is," Keyford said, looking at the cloudless sky. "It reminds me of the summer of 1802, when half the crops nearly failed because of the drought. I was with one of my farmers this morning and—"
Polly was not to learn what had transpired between Keyford and his tenant farmer, for the older man became dumbstruck at the sight of James.
"Have we met?" Keyford asked, his brow creasing in a frown. From his seat atop his stallion, Lord Keyford looked rather rude and imperious as he stared down at James and Polly hoped that her friend would not take insult.
"I don't believe we have, my Lord," James shook his head, bemused by Keyford's stares.
"As I live and breathe, you remind me so much of an old friend," Keyford continued, leaning forward on his saddle so that he could closer inspect James. "Have you any relation to the late Earl of Ludlow? It's uncanny how much you resemble poor Horace."
It was all that Polly could do not to gasp at the mention of James' late father's name--was it true that father and son were so similar in appearance? She saw that James' stance had changed from one of casual insouciance to one far more guarded. His jaw was clenched and there was a glint of anger in his eyes as he gazed defiantly back at Lord Keyford.
"We are distantly related," James conceded with a bow of his head, giving nothing away to Keyford. If he had hoped that his curt answer would curb the Viscount's interest, he was much mistaken, for Keyford gave a chuckle of delight at James' answer.
"I knew it, the moment I looked at you, I knew it," Lord Keyford said with a smile, rubbing the neck of his stallion, who had begun to whinny with impatience. "Old Horace, Lord rest him, was a great friend of mine. He spent many a summer here with me at Aylesbury. I was heartbroken when he died, for he was a good man. Tell me, how is it you are related?"
"I am his bastard."
James delivered this statement with cool manner that one might say they were a fishmonger or a baker. Polly bit back a groan, knowing that when James adopted an overly calm exterior, it meant that within he was filled with fiery anger. She placed a calming hand on his arm, noting that his fists were clenched, despite his air of nonchalance. Keyford seemed to note this too, for he gave an appreciative chuckle.
"You've the same temper as old Horace, boy," the Viscount said with a wry grin. "Any son of Ludlow's is alright in my books, bastard or no. Come call on me, lad, if you'd like to know any more about him."
Keyford doffed his hat in the ladies' direction, before urging his steed along, back home toward Aylesbury, his estate which lay a few miles west of St Jarvis. Polly held her breath as she waited for James to speak; she had never seen him so affected in all her life. His face was pale, his jaw clenched and his brow was creased into a deep frown. Again, she placed her hand upon his arm, and this time it seemed to draw him back from wherever it was he had gone.
"My apologies, ladies," James gave the twins and Emily a light smile. "I was not expecting that. Come, let us return to St Jarvis, for I know Polly is anxious to get started on supper."
The group clambered into the barouche and the journey back to St Jarvis was far quieter than when they set out. Polly caught the glances that passed between the twins; no doubt they were shocked by the revelation of the genteel Captain Black's parentage, though she paid them no heed. It was James she was worried about, her friend's face now wore a closed expression and when they arrived back at the boarding house, he declined her invitation to dine with them.
"I must return this old thing to Pemberton," he said, by way of excuse, gesturing at the barouche. Polly rather thought that the driver would return the carriage alone, but did not question him. If he wished to be alone, she could not force her company upon him.
"Take care," she said in reply, trying to inflict as much meaning as she could into those two words. She stayed in the doorway and watched as he elegantly hopped up beside the driver. The barouche made its way back down Shop Street, with Polly waiting at the door until it disappeared from view.
The afternoon had been wonderful, but it had brought with it more questions than had been answered. What had happened between James and his father's family? And what was happening between the two of them?
Knowing that she would not learn the answer any time soon, Polly turned and retreated into the kitchen--she had a supper to prepare.
CHAPTER TWELVE
There was only one thing that James needed after his encounter with Lord Keyford, and that was ale. By the barrelful preferably, though he knew that Mr Lawless in The Fisherman's Friend would balk if he requested more than one tankard at a time.
"Take it easy, it's not a race," Lawless grumbled as James downed his first pint swiftly and gestured for another. "Things not going well with your lady love?"
The question was innocuous enough, but it set James' nerves on edge for he remembered well the older man's interest in Polly.
"That's none of your concern," he responded mulishly.
