Читать книгу The Widow Of Pale Harbour - Hester Fox - Страница 18

Gabriel ought to have gone to the church and continued in his work of clearing away the debris and rubbish. He’d long since undertaken the unpleasant task of disposing of the animal remains, but there was still dust caking the windows and splintered pews that needed repairing. If he was going to have the church up and running anytime soon, he needed to stop procrastinating and embrace this new life that he had forged for himself and Anna’s memory.

But instead of going to the church, after he left Castle Carver, he found himself meandering down the wide, tree-lined road to the water. He was caught between being disappointed that Mrs. Carver hadn’t been an old crone or a witch—because that certainly would have been very interesting—and uneasy that she was so charming and gracious. Even more disturbing was that he was able to find a woman charming at all. After Anna, how could he even think such things?

When the trees gave way to the broad vista of gray water, Gabriel stopped, hands in pockets, and breathed in the sharp, salty air. A little boat loaded with fishnets slid by, the boy in back raising a hand in greeting to Gabriel as he sailed past. Though his mind was far away, Gabriel absently returned the gesture and watched him go.

It was unfathomable that the woman with clear silver eyes and frank, intelligent gaze could be responsible for such depravity as murder. But then, he knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving, that people were not always what appearances suggested.

When he finally turned toward home, it was with heavy feet and a dull sense of apprehension. After the cozy and well-decorated parlor at Castle Carver, his walls looked sad and barren in comparison. He’d thought that he would do his penance of living alone with grace and forbearance, but perhaps his heart wasn’t as dead as he had once thought if he was capable of such pressing loneliness.

Prying open one of the two trunks into which he’d piled all his possessions, Gabriel began lifting out the artwork in their chipped gilded frames and wiping the dust off them with his sleeve. The art that had hung in their little cottage in Concord looked lost and out of place on the walls here. Like Mrs. Carver, Anna had loved art and the collecting of it. She had been drawn to amateur sketches, small pieces found in dusty old shops or given to her by friends. It was her imagination and eye that had imbued the artwork with meaning. But without their benefactress, they were simply trifles, not particularly attractive, and without substance. Perhaps he shouldn’t have stripped them from the only home they had ever known and taken them to this lonely place.

With a grunt, Gabriel lowered the trunk lid and stood. He didn’t want to think about Anna and the mementos she had left behind. He didn’t really want to think about anything. He was just about to see if either of the crates contained a bottle of whiskey he thought he remembered packing, when there was a knock at the door.

For some reason, as he put his hand to the latch, he fancied that it was Mrs. Carver on the opposite side, come to continue their conversation. So when his gaze landed not on Mrs. Carver, but on a girl of a few years younger and with bright red hair, he couldn’t help his disappointed exhalation. Then he remembered that someone had told him Mrs. Carver did not leave her house. Quickly regaining himself, he coughed and tried to look polite and nonthreatening. “May I help you?”

“Begging your pardon, sir; my name is Fanny Gibbs. My brother sent me, said you were looking for some house help?”

Gabriel stared at the girl blankly until he remembered his conversation with the young man named Jasper that very morning, and the promise that he would send his sister around. How long ago that already seemed since meeting Mrs. Carver. “Of course,” he said, holding the door open for her.

With a little sigh of relief, the girl stepped inside. Except for a rounder face and a brighter, gentler demeanor, she was the spitting image of her brother, right down to her sharp green eyes and generous smattering of freckles. She must have caught his look, because she smiled and said, “We’re twins, Jasper and me.”

She turned her attention to the modest entryway with wide eyes, and Gabriel ushered her into the front room.

He offered her a seat on the only piece of furniture—a threadbare sofa that the previous owners had left—while he stood, leaning against the door frame. “Jasper tells me you work for Mrs. Carver. What makes you want to leave?” He was more than a little curious about what she thought of her notorious employer. “Are you unhappy with your position there?”

Fanny Gibbs was small and plump, and Gabriel couldn’t picture her elbow-deep in laundry, or lugging buckets of water up and down stairs. He couldn’t even imagine her in Castle Carver; the house would swallow her up.

At his questions, the girl’s brow puckered in confusion and she stopped scanning the room to meet Gabriel’s gaze. “Leave? Oh, no. I’ve no intention of leaving Mrs. Carver.”

“But Jasper said you were looking for a new position.”

Something like anger flickered briefly in the girl’s green eyes. “I’m sure he did, but I’m more than capable of taking on more work while keeping my place at Castle Carver.”

Gabriel didn’t have experience with interviews, or anything to do with domestic help, for that matter. He wasn’t sure what he ought to ask, or what was a normal amount of work for a girl like Fanny. “What is it exactly you do for Mrs. Carver?”

“Well, I help around the house with light chores, and I do the laundry once a week. She needs me,” Fanny added with a stubborn jut of her chin.

“There aren’t other girls that she could hire?”

Fanny shook her head in exasperation. “I can’t leave Mrs. Carver, not after everything she’s done for me. She’s my friend. She knew that Jasper and I needed the money, and she hired me on to help.”

For a woman who claimed that the whole town was against her—and by his own accounts, Gabriel had found this to be true—here was someone who not only didn’t revile Sophronia Carver, but claimed to be her friend.

“Why did Jasper say you needed a new position then?”

She gave a sigh, fiddling at her worn cuffs. “Because Jasper hates her,” she said simply. “But she’s been kind to me, very kind. I know what her reputation is in the town, and I don’t share their poor opinions of her.”

There was so much more Gabriel wanted to ask her, but he couldn’t very well endlessly interrogate the girl. “Well,” he said, “if you’re already employed then I don’t suppose you’ll want the job.”

“Oh, no,” she said, sitting up straighter, her face becoming animated and her eyes shining. “I can do both. I only go over to Castle Carver a few times a week, and aside from laundry days, I’m only there for a couple of hours. I can do both,” she repeated, as if trying to convince herself as much as she was Gabriel.

“Well, I’m not looking for much. I can manage my own breakfasts, but you would be responsible for preparing dinners. Maybe some dusting. What do you think?”

“I think that would suit very well,” she said, smiling eagerly.

A weight that Gabriel hadn’t realized had been pressing on his shoulders suddenly lifted. He need not be completely alone in his exile, and Fanny was a good-natured, cheerful girl who would help keep the melancholy at bay. “Good,” he said. “If you’re ready, you can start today. But first, maybe something to eat?”

He’d heard the gurgle of her stomach, seen her slightly abashed expression and recognized the signs of hunger from his own youth. He vaguely wondered what Jasper earned on the docks, and onto what kind of hard times their family had fallen.

Fanny followed him to the kitchen and sat on one of the rickety stools while Gabriel scrounged up some leftover bread and hard cheese. “All I have,” he said apologetically as he laid it on the tabletop.

But Fanny eagerly broke off a piece of the bread, piled the cheese on top and chewed contentedly. “It’s perfect.”

They sat in comfortable silence while Fanny devoured the little meal and Gabriel let his thoughts wander. He’d spent so long fortifying his mind and his heart, forcing himself not to think of Anna or the events of the past year, and inevitably failing miserably. But since meeting Mrs. Carver that afternoon, his thoughts kept turning to the gentle curve of her neck, the quickness of her smile, and her generosity and warmth to the likes of him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Fanny said, breaking the silence.

Gabriel realized he’d been staring at her as his thoughts ran away from him. “I’m sorry?”

She gave him a chastising look, a trace of hurt in her voice. “You’re wondering what someone like Mrs. Carver would want with someone like me.”

He hastened to deny it, but he was curious. Mrs. Carver was the wealthiest person in town, pariah or not. She need not associate with the likes of poor ministers or serving girls. “I’ve heard a lot about Mrs. Carver, and I’m curious,” he said, opting for honesty. “How did you meet her? Your brother couldn’t have been too happy when you accepted a position with her.”

Fanny shifted in her seat, her expression suddenly uncomfortable. “Jasper and me, we needed money. Castle Carver was the finest house in town, so I took it upon myself to inquire about a position there. Everyone warned me about her, but she was nothing but kind to me. Pays me well, and I go over not just on working days now, but other days too just to talk and keep her company.”

“All those rumors, though. Weren’t you afraid they might be true?”

She crossed her arms and looked affronted. “’Course not.”

“And what about the strange happenings around town?”

She surprised Gabriel by smiling, wide and slow. “Oh, I think it’s wonderful,” she said breathlessly.

“Wonderful?”

“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like, coming from a big city like you do.”

Gabriel didn’t bother correcting her. Everyone here conflated Concord with Boston or envisioned it as a bustling city in its own right, neither of which was even remotely close to the truth.

“Pale Harbor is so poky and boring,” she continued. “Nothing ever happens here. Oh, it’s probably just some troublemaker, but you can’t imagine the thrill it gives us. It’s like a riddle, but no one understands the meaning. Or hidden treasure...things seem to be found in the most surprising of places. Jane Fisher’s sister found the strangest little doll stuffed into a tree.”

“I see.” Recalling the stories he’d heard from Lewis and the Marshalls, Gabriel doubted as to whether the rest of the town shared in Fanny’s enthusiasm. It seemed that everything that had been found had been hidden, secreted away out of sight: the remains left in an abandoned church, a doll hidden in a tree, skinned squirrels in the woods.

He rubbed at the two-day growth on his jaw, not wanting to speak of such things anymore. “So you knew Mr. Carver?”

If Fanny was caught by surprise by the change in subject, she didn’t let it show. Indeed, she seemed to be enjoying the gossip. “No, he died before I came on.”

“She’s so young to be a widow,” he murmured.

Fanny shrugged. “She’s better off without him, if you ask me. Anyway, when he was alive, they had a cook and a whole score of help. But when he died, Mrs. Carver sent them all away.”

“All except for Helen,” he said.

“That’s right. Helen is so kind to her. She takes good care of Mrs. Carver, even if she is a tough old thing.”

“I’m sure she’s lucky to have you both,” Gabriel said diplomatically. His curiosity about Mrs. Carver had already been piqued, but as he spoke with Fanny, it had flared into an insatiable hunger for answers. He had sat across from the elegant woman herself, listened to her proclaim her innocence in her silky-smooth voice. He couldn’t explain why, but he was desperate to see her again, to peel off the rumors surrounding her and discover the person underneath.

Fanny gave a little sigh, though whether of contentment or sorrow he couldn’t tell. “And Pale Harbor is lucky to have her.”