“Jane, would you take Charles and go inside?” Vincent stood, not taking his eyes off the soldiers or the unmarked carriage that had arrived in their midst.
She reached out for their son but made no immediate move to go inside. With Charles’s comforting weight in her arms, she stood and followed Vincent down the length of the veranda to the front steps of the house. If this were some action against them, there was nowhere she could reasonably go to hide. With her health as poor as it was, Jane was not even certain she could pull a thread out of the ether, much less weave a glamour.
The carriage rolled to a stop at the head of the sweep, and one of the soldiers dismounted to open the door. A military officer got out first, uniform bright with braid, followed by the man Jane had least expected to see.
Her father had come to Antigua.
Thirty-seven
Familial Relations
For a long moment, Jane could only stare at her father, so out of place in the heat and dust of Antigua. His white hair fluttered under his tall dark hat. “Papa?” Without a word, Vincent took Charles from her and freed Jane to all but run down the stairs. “Papa!”
Mr. Ellsworth met her halfway, the tension in his face fading as he pulled her into his arms. His embrace unlocked a fountainhead of emotion, and Jane found herself sobbing on her father’s shoulder. He rocked her, smoothing her hair. “There, there … shh … there, now.”
“What are you doing here?” She drew back, still weeping. “I thought you were in Vienna.”
His dear face was reddened from the voyage, and his eyes had a suspicious wetness. He wiped one with a knuckle as though he had something in his eye. “We left for England not long after you. The letter must still be en route, I suppose.” He broke off as Vincent’s footsteps ground across the gravel behind her. “And is this…?”
It was not how she had pictured introducing her son to her father, but Jane nodded. “May I introduce you to Charles Vincent?”
“Charles…?” Now her father’s eyes were wet in earnest. He held out his hands to Vincent. “May I?”
With tender care, Vincent transferred the older man’s namesake into his arms, for all the world as if they were not surrounded by British soldiers. It seemed odd to Jane to be suddenly surrounded by so many white faces.
Once relieved of his burden, Vincent eyed them with some concern. “And the soldiers, sir?”
“Those came with me.” The voice was so strikingly like Vincent’s that Jane felt dizzy. Struggling out of the carriage, assisted by two soldiers, was Vincent’s brother Richard. “Received your messengers, old man. Seemed best to bring some support, given our father’s past dealings, and the Crown agreed.”
His features still had the signs of indolence that are so striking among young men of fashion, but with new lines on top of them, as though he had been quite ill. He leaned heavily on a cane and swung his right leg with a pronounced limp, stopping next to a distinguished white gentleman of middle years.
“General Montgomery, allow me to present my brother, Mr. Vincent Hamilton, and his wife.”
Vincent shook the general’s hand. “A pleasure. Although I hesitate to correct my brother, and it risks presenting the news in the wrong order, we are more accurately Sir David Vincent and Lady Vincent.”
“The Prince Regent’s glamourists, yes.” General Montgomery held his hat under one arm. “His Royal Highness was most concerned about your situation.”
To General Montgomery, Vincent said, “As to that … my father died three weeks ago.”
“Dead!” Richard’s composure divided into a mixture of shock and relief. “Are you certain that he is truly dead?”
“There was a fire. I saw the body, and, believe me, I made a thorough examination. So while I am grateful—beyond grateful—that you came, I am only sorry that you made the trip to no purpose.”
General Montgomery shook his head. “Not at all. The fact that your late father was able to remain at will for as long as he did makes it clear that there is rank corruption in the naval forces here. Your message to your brother mentioned Sir Ronald … bad business, that. Well. We should be able to clear it up and make good use of our time here. We have three ships-of-the-line in the harbour with steady men who can be trusted.”
“May I also recommend Admiral Cunningham? Though I regret to say that circumstances forced me to lie to him.” Vincent grimaced. “Still, I believe he is an honourable man.”
“Good to know. Given what your brother has shared, I would be surprised if the admiral did not forgive you the indiscretion.”
The successive shocks, welcome though they were, were making Jane’s heart race and familiar grey spots swim at the edge of her vision. She put her hand on Vincent’s arm. “Forgive me, but I think I am about to faint.”
“It is all right, Muse. I do not need to be—”
“No, really.”
“Oh!” He lifted her into his arms as grey splotches danced around her vision.