“Explain,” Jack demanded.
“Diaries of local residents, letters kept, archives of constabulary records. I haven’t had time to go through it all thoroughly but the primary theme bled through almost immediately,” Dempsey answered.
“And that theme would be?” Jack prompted when Dempsey didn’t go on.
“Bennett and Caldwell had a lifelong feud,” Dempsey replied and Jack felt his body get tight.
Dempsey continued.
“It was not private. It played out very publicly and started when they were young. It followed them into adulthood and business. Caldwell was not well-liked and, the story goes, this was because he was a cheat and a poor loser. Further, although Caldwell was not a peasant, not common, his family didn’t have the kind of money the Bennett family had, still, he was ambitious. And most of that ambition was centred around besting Bennett. Unfortunately, Bennett was richer, smarter and better looking than him and always won. Caldwell didn’t like this. From what I read, as boys even to young men, Bennett participated in these various contests, whatever they were and, in the end, they included the pursuit of women. However, as Bennett matured and turned his mind to the family business, he lost interest in Caldwell and his competitions. In fact, Bennett was often in London and not in Cornwall at all. That said, it was widely believed that Caldwell still smarted that the games ended before he could best Bennett at least once.”
As engrossed in the story as he was disturbed by it and its further similarities to his own life, Jack still heard Belle moving about the house so he lifted a hand. Dempsey fell silent and his eyes cut to the door.
Jack turned to see Belle standing there, looking curious and tentative, her gaze on Dempsey. She was wearing jeans so faded they were nearly white and had a frayed split in one knee. She was also wearing a white slouchy sweater that was loose-woven and had a wide neck so he could see her white vest at her shoulders and through the weave. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail but tendrils had escaped and framed her face. Even nearly first thing in the morning without makeup, she looked just as casually chic and adorably charming as she actually was.
She also, fortunately and unfortunately, looked like she’d just enjoyed a rather pleasurable orgasm. Jack liked that the results of their lovemaking lasted some time for Belle.
No, he loved it.
Though, as usual, he wasn’t keen on sharing it.
Without a choice, he extended an arm her way and called softly, “Come in, poppet, meet Mickey Dempsey.”
Her eyes came to him, she gave him her small smile then she walked straight to him. She fitted herself tight to his side as his arm curled around her shoulders and hers around his waist but she leaned forward and extended her other hand to Dempsey who took it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Dempsey,” she said softly in her musical voice.
“Mickey,” he corrected. “And nice to meet you too, Ms. Abbot.”
She awarded Dempsey one of her small smiles. It was smaller than the ones she gave Jack but it was something and that something was something Dempsey liked. Jack saw it immediately as Dempsey’s gaze grew captivated.
“And please,” Belle continued, “call me Belle.”
“Belle,” Dempsey murmured and he still hadn’t let her hand go.
“Perhaps we can move forward with what you have to share so Belle and I can get on with our Sunday,” Jack suggested pointedly, Belle pulled her hand from Dempsey’s grip and Dempsey grinned at him. Jack looked down at Belle. “I explained I’d spoken with Mr. Dempsey and what I asked him to do,” he reminded her of the conversation they’d had days before and he did this to share with Dempsey that Belle was aware of the situation.
She nodded up to Jack then to Dempsey then she informed them, “Coffee should be ready in a few minutes.”
Jack had no intention of sharing coffee with Mickey Dempsey. He wasn’t even going to ask him to sit down.
His blossoming Belle, however, had other ideas.
“Please, sit, Mickey,” she offered, throwing her arm out to the couch.
There were times, Jack thought, when meek, mild and shy worked in his favour in regards to Belle. This would have been one of them.
Dempsey smiled and sat on the couch. Again with no choice, Jack took an armchair and was slightly appeased when Belle perched on the arm in the perfect position for him to wrap an arm around her hips. Therefore he did this without delay.
“Sorry to say,” Belle put in, “but I was eavesdropping. Small house, hard not to do,” she told Dempsey.
“What he says does affect you, my love, and it is your house,” Jack pointed out.
She looked down at him and whispered, “Right, of course.”
Jack gave her h*ps a squeeze and looked back to Dempsey. “Why don’t we continue?”
Dempsey nodded and did just that.
“As I was saying, although Bennett moved on, Caldwell did not. So, when Brenna Addison saved that child from drowning –”
Jack’s arm got tight around Belle’s h*ps even as he leaned slightly forward and whispered, “What?” at the same time Belle whispered, “Oh my goodness gracious.”
Dempsey’s brow furrowed. “Brenna saved a child from drowning. She nearly drowned herself doing it. It was one of the reasons she was so beloved. Didn’t you know that?”
Jack shook his head. “I paid little attention to the legend.”
“I hadn’t heard that either,” Belle said softly.
“I know you two are aware of the similarities in their story to yours, of course. But I thought you knew all of it. And all of it is near to identical to your own. Including Caldwell pursuing Brenna because of her beauty and popularity but also in order to win her in an effort to best Bennett. He made it clear after drinking heavily and bragging in pubs that he was keen to show Bennett his prize. That prize being Brenna.” Dempsey’s eyes moved to Jack. “I’m relatively certain this sounds familiar.”
“It does, indeed,” Jack agreed, his voice low and annoyed but he wasn’t annoyed.
He was uneasy.
“Although I can see why you’d think Caldwell is reincarnated in Cole,” Dempsey carried on, his eyes moving to Belle and giving her a gentle look before they shifted back to Jack, “I hope you can see why I believe this isn’t true. The initials are the same. The marital treatment is the same.” He again looked to Belle and muttered, “Sorry.”
“Please don’t worry about it,” Belle replied quietly.