"Don't think I haven't considered that," Dominick said soberly. "It's true that we were both very young. But there was something between us that was timeless. I believe that it will still be there is I have a chance to meet Roxanne. Imustdothis."
Renfrew sighed. "Very well. Bring on thecanoe!"
Chapter3
Sir William Mayfieldfolded his newspaper and laid it next to his breakfast plate. "The coddled eggs were overcooked, Roxanne, and the braised kidneysweredry."
She glanced up from buttering her toast. "I'm sorry, Papa. Shall I order moreforyou?"
"There isn't time today, but see that the cook does better tomorrow." He peered over his half spectacles. "Fetch your bonnet and notebook. We're going to see a primitivecuriosity."
It was typical of him to overlook the fact that she had scarcely touched her breakfast, but it was easier to obey than to continue eating. She laid down her knife and got to her feet. "Very well, Papa. What sort ofcuriosity?"
"A savage who appears to have sailed here from thePacific."
"Is that the fellow they're calling the Wild Man of the West Country?" she asked with interest. "I read about him yesterday in the Plymouthnewspaper."
"You shouldn't waste your time reading such rubbish. However, that is the nickname that the vulgar have attached to the brute." Mayfield permitted himself a thin smile. "Admittedly there is a certain logic to it. He is certainly wild, and quite unlike any creature ever before seen in this part of theworld."
It might have been rubbish, but the story had intrigued Roxanne. "They say he's six and a half feet tall, that he sailed here all the way from Polynesia, and there's only one man who can understand anything of hisspeech."
Sir William sniffed. "Sir George Renfrew. The fellow is only a jumped-up merchant, but he sees fit to submit articles to scholarly journals on the basis of having traveled in strange lands. True scholarship is done reflectively, at a distance, uninfluenced by rawfeelings. "
As her father did. When was the last time he had experienced life firsthand? Repressing the disrespectful thought with the skill of long practice, Roxanne said, "I'll get mybonnet."
Upstairs in her room, she glanced in the mirror. An errant lock had escaped from the bun at her nape, so she secured it with the ruthless jab of a hairpin. It wasn't easy to persuade her blazing red locks to behave, but shepersevered.
She was adjusting a navy blue shawl over her gray, high-necked gown when her gaze went back to her reflection. Her hands faltered at the sight of the sober, colorless, impeccably ladylike image in themirror.
Suddenly, she was a stranger to herself. Where had the passionate, impetuous young Roxanne Mayfield gone? She was nearing thirty, and could not remember the last time she had laughed without restraint. Who was she to criticize her father for keeping life at adistance?
She drifted across the tower room. Though she tried never to think of Dominick Chandler, he still had the power to sometimes intrude into her mind. How many lives had he ruined in the years since he had destroyed hers? She gazed out through the west window. It was right there, by the beech tree, where she had last seen him, the sun behind him, silhouetting his broadshoulders....
Her lips compressed into a harsh line and she turned from the window. She was fortunate that he'd displayed his wickedness to her father before she could ruinherself.
A thousand times over the years she had told herself how fortunateshewas.
Throat tight, she picked up a notebook and headed for the stairs. Papa hated to be keptwaiting.
It was a two-hour drive to Plymouth. As the carriage rattled to a halt in front of the Black Hart Inn, Roxanne said hesitantly, "After we've seen the Wild Man, can we drive down to Sutton Pool for a few minutes? I like to look at theships."
"Nonsense, Roxanne, that would be a complete waste of time." Sir William climbed from the carriage and gazed at the inn. "The savage is being kept here, with Sir George Renfrew watching over him to make sure that he causes no trouble." He gave a rusty laugh. "Serve Sir George right if the brute murders him inhisbed."
Roxanne failed to see the humor in such a prospect, but she could not suppress a tingle of anticipation as she followed her father into the inn. This visit was the greatest adventure she had experienced inyears.
Inside, her father announced to the innkeeper, "I am Sir William Mayfield. Take me to see the savage, mygoodman."
The innkeeper gave a respectful bow. "Very good, sir. He's in the assembly room. Several other gentlemen are observing him as well." He glanced at Roxanne doubtfully. "But I'm not sure the Wild Man is a decent sight for ayounglady."
"Nonsense," Sir William said impatiently. "She's not a young lady, she's mydaughter."
The innkeeper led them through the inn to a dim, high-ceilinged room where public dances and private banquets were held. Though the day was pleasant, a fire burned in the hearth, probably to give the savage the warmth he was accustomed to. Half a dozen men were clustered in the comer. In the center of the group, towering above them all, was a crested featherhelmet.
Sir William marched confidently into the room. "Renfrew? I'mMayfield."
A medium-sized man with blond hair and a pleasant face broke away from the group and came to meet the newcomer. "A pleasure to meet you, Sir William." His interested gaze moved to Roxanne. "Is this MissMayfield?"
"Of course," her father said, not bothering with a formal introduction. "Have you made any progress in discovering where the savagecomesfrom?"
