Eye of the Wind by Jane Jackson Page B

Betts sent these up for you, miss.’
    ‘How kind. Will you thank her, Lobb? I shall enjoy them.’
    ‘Would you like the kedgeree, miss? Or perhaps some eggs?’
    ‘One poached egg, a slice of toast, and a cup of hot chocolate, please.’ The ride had been invigorating, but she wasn’t as hungry as usual. Perhaps once she started eating her appetite would return.
    ‘Just one egg?’ The question betrayed Lobb’s surprise.
    ‘Just one, thank you.’
    ‘Very good, miss. You’re quite well?’
    That was the trouble with long-serving trusted staff. They fussed.
    ‘I’m perfectly well, thank you, Lobb. I had a most enjoyable ride this morning and I have a busy day ahead.’ Melissa flashed him a meaningful smile.
    ‘Quite so. Then you’ll be needing a good breakfast, miss,’ the butler responded blandly, turning away to the sideboard.
    Melissa picked up her napkin. Her father seemed unaware she had entered the room. ‘Papa?’ She leant forward slightly. ‘Is everything all right?’
    Francis Tregonning raised his head. ‘Melissa?’
    Melissa wondered for an instant if he could see her, for he seemed tentative and confused, as if the room was dark instead of bright with morning sunshine.
    Concerned, she reached out and touched his hand. ‘What is it, Papa? Have you had bad news?’
    He blinked, and made a brave effort to pull himself together. ‘No. Everything is fine. It’s nothing at all. Well, just a minor matter I have to sort out. But nothing to worry about.’ Swiftly refolding the letter in his hand, he laid it on top of the one on the table, pressing both flat. ‘Have you seen your mother this morning? How is she?’ He reached for his cup, but his hand was shaking so badly the coffee slopped over the rim into the saucer. ‘Damn it, Lobb!’ he roared. ‘Why must you fill the cup to the brim? Makes a dreadful mess.’
    ‘I beg your pardon, sir. I’ll bring you a fresh cup immediately.’
    ‘Yes, do that. And don’t fill it so full this time.’
    Melissa caught the butler’s eye, and read in Lobb’s carefully blank expression understanding of the strain the anniversary of Adrian’s death and his wife’s illness had placed on his master. She turned to her father.
    ‘Mama still has a fever. She was hoping so much that the postman might have brought a letter from George. I’m sure if one arrived her recovery would be twice as swift.’
    ‘I wish he was here,’ her father murmured with a desperation that wrenched Melissa’s heart.
    ‘Indeed, we all do, Papa.’ If George were here he would be dealing with all the problems and she would not be facing the most difficult moments of her life. After a short pause to screw up her courage and choose her words, she began. ‘I went for a ride this morning.’ She grieved at the effort it cost him to appear interested.
    ‘That’s nice.’ His smile was a travesty. And his fingers fretted at the edge of the folded letter.
    ‘I gave Samson a gallop across the park and through the woods.’
    ‘How’s that strained tendon?’
    ‘Fine, Papa. He’s perfectly sound. But the gales have brought down two trees across the path. And I’m almost certain I saw more storm damage further in. The thing is, Papa, Tom is becoming really concerned.’
    ‘He’s got enough wood to finish the packet, hasn’t he?’ His unexpected belligerence was startling.
    ‘Yes.’ She knew his anger wasn’t directed at her. But this uncharacteristic outburst forced her to recognise the truth of his claim that the yard and estate had become too heavy a burden for him to manage alone. ‘There’s also enough for the keel and frame of the next ship. But the store must be replenished soon.’
    ‘I know, dammit!’ Leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table, her father rubbed his forehead. ‘I’m trying, but there are other … Look, tell Tom …’ He winced, pressing his fingertips to his temple. ‘Tell him … Tell him … Oh …’ Je gasped as his right