She breathed deeply and exhaled her tension. It was only a ride home. He did not seem like a Reginald and Hunt seemed somehow too…intimate. “And what brought you here, Lockwood?”
His pause was fractionally longer than natural and she realized he was hiding secrets of his own. “I’ve been debating whether to sell my interests here or to keep them.”
“Are they profitable?”
“Moderately so. Since I am a planter, my profits are tied to seasonal vagaries.”
She nodded. “As are those of most islanders who are not engaged in shipping and trade. But since St. Claire is small, I doubt it will ever compete with other islands in goods or shipping.”
“Is that your conclusion, or that of most islanders?”
“Mine, I suppose. When the St. Claire Planters’ Society decided not to cultivate sugarcane, it limited growth. Most of our exports, with the exception of mahogany, are delicate or perishable, which makes transport difficult.”
“Do you disapprove of that decision, Mrs. Hobbs?”
“I do not necessarily see growth as a desirable thing.” More settlers from England would mean more likelihood of recognition.
He nodded and looped the ribbons through his left hand with the casual grace of one accustomed to taking the reins. With his right hand, he swept the moonlit vista ahead of them. “It would be a shame to lose all this. But I find myself wondering what the attraction might be for a woman like you. In London, you’d easily make a good marriage and have a life of ease. Instead, you’ve chosen to labor on a distant island with an uncertain future.”
“Some things are preferable to marriage, Lockwood.” As soon as the words were out, she realized what she’d given away. She cleared her throat and hastened to add, “And the…memories were too painful to remain in London.”
“You could have removed to the country.”
“I did not want my husband’s family managing my life.” She frowned at him, hoping that would be enough to discourage further questions.
Undaunted, Lord Lockwood seemed to consider her statement. “Hobbs. Hmm. I wonder if I knew him. I believe there are Hobbses in Devon, are there not? What was his given name?”
“I would not imagine you ever met him. We did not travel in such lofty circles as yours.”
He glanced at her in surprise and she wondered if he had detected the lie in her voice. “I did not mean to offend you, Mrs. Hobbs. You think I’m prying, do you not?”
“Aren’t you?”
He looked apologetic. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose I am. I tend to see the world as a Chinese puzzle. I want to know how all the pieces fit. The curse of an orderly mind, I fear.”
Some of her tension eased and the edge of panic receded. “I dislike speaking about the past. The memories are painful.”
“Then we shan’t,” he said. “What shall we discuss instead?”
“You, Lord Lockwood. Why is it that every time I ask you a question, you give me a short answer and turn the conversation around to me again?”
“I swear I’m not as meddling as you think. I’m new to St. Claire and want to know everything about it. But I promise to leave you alone. Shall we discuss the island?”
That should be safe enough. “Of course. Our main exports are—”
He guffawed. “I do not want the tour lecture, Mrs. Hobbs. Tell me what sights are worth seeing before I’m off again.”
“The waterfall on Mount Colombo. That is my favorite, if your time is limited. Take a picnic lunch, since there are no stops between.”
“Is there a walking path?”
“An easy one. I’ve walked it with my son.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Lockwood turned to her with a puzzled expression. “Oddly enough, I hadn’t suspected you had children. Perhaps because you look so young. How old is your son, or is that prying?”
She’d have to be more careful about volunteering information. She couldn’t blame him for his curiosity. “He is eight years old, and away at school.”
“Ah. And are there more?”
“No. Only William.”
Another long pause, and then he said, “That must be very lonely for you, Mrs. Hobbs.”
She blinked and cleared her throat. She was not going to cry in front of Lord Lockwood. She drew herself back to the subject at hand. “There is a coral reef beyond the settlements where the mountains begin on the northwest side of the island. They are beautiful, and the water is so clear that you can see the most amazing fish. Do you swim, sir?”
He nodded.
“Then I would definitely recommend the trip, although it is not a simple one. There are no boats for hire there, and no towns. The reefs are too treacherous for ships to anchor or even send a tender ashore.”
He stared at her again before he spoke. “I shall put that on my list. Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of at the moment. If something should occur to me, I shall send you a note.”
“No need. I’ll be stopping by your shop. You can just tell me.”
How could she be both anxious to see him and dismayed at the prospect? It wasn’t logical in the least, and yet he seemed to create these paradoxes in her.
“What can you tell me about Blackpool, Mrs. Hobbs?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. We keep to our side of the island and they keep to theirs.”
“I’ve been thinking that I’d like to see a town built on cliffs. If I can find a spare day or two, I believe I’ll go.”
“I hear large ships occasionally moor offshore, but the rip currents are treacherous for small boats and skiffs. I wouldn’t recommend it, Lockwood.”
“Thought I might walk overland. Have a peek at the waterfall and volcano on my way. I’m the consummate British traveler, you know.”
She laughed. “Even overland, I wouldn’t recommend it.” The inhabitants of Blackpool were determinedly unfriendly. And there were darker, unsubstantiated rumors that some visitors never returned at all. She would hate to have Lockwood suffer a similar fate.
He was silent for a time, as if he were digesting the information. When he finally spoke, it was not what she expected. “I confess that I suspect a conspiracy here. Every time I mention Blackpool, I’m met with silence or abrupt warnings to stay away. What is over there? Cannibals?”
Heavens! She wished she could laugh at that, but no one really seemed to know what went on over there. “I assure you, I have no idea. The mystery existed before I arrived in San Marco and I’ve never gone there. I have known people who have been there, but they do not speak of it.”
“By the saints! With a temptation like that, I’m amazed that half of San Marco has not gone to see for themselves.”
The comment made her smile. She’d thought the same thing. “I do not know what to tell you, Lockwood. You now have the sum total of my knowledge of Blackpool. But it is your turn. Tell me what has passed in London the last five years.”
“I fear only more of the same. Prinny overdrawing the royal coffers, riots over the price of corn, the Spa Field riots, general social unrest—but you do not want to hear this.”
“Oh, but I do!”
She was so eager that