Where Seagulls Soar

By the same author

The Stonecutter’s Daughter

A Handful of Ashes

Beyond the Plough

A Dorset Girl

Born and brought up in Parkstone in Dorset, Janet Woods now lives in Perth, Western Australia, although she returns to her English roots on a regular
basis to visit family and friends.

First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2006
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright © Janet Woods 2006

This eBook edition, 2014

This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.

The right of Janet Woods to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
1st Floor
222 Gray’s Inn Road
London WC1X 8HB

www.simonandschuster.co.uk

Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney
Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

PB ISBN: 978-1-41650-252-4
EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-47113-662-7

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

For my granddaughters

Abbie Woods

and

Kate Larsen,

with love.

The author is happy to receive feedback from readers via her website

http://members.iinet.net.au/~woods

or by post

PO Box 2099

Kardinya 6163

Western Australia

My thanks to historian Stuart Morris for his wonderful book,

PORTLAND

An Illustrated History

first published by The Dovecote Press in 1985.

An invaluable source of information for this, and my previous novel,

The Stonecutter’s Daughter

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‘With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow. In the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.
Amen.’

The ring Alexander Morcant slipped on to Joanna Darsham’s finger was fashioned from a nugget of gold unearthed from the Victorian gold fields by a convict jeweller.

‘Those whom God hath joined together may no man put asunder.’

Thaddeus Scott, master of the clipper
Joanna Rose
– en route from Australia to England with a cargo of wool, 65,000 ounces of gold, seventy-three passengers and mail destined for
families left behind in Great Britain – closed his Bible and smiled at the couple standing before him, both of them dear to his heart.

‘Best you tie the knot properly in a church when we go ashore, just to make sure it’s legal.’

Later, Thaddeus wrote an entry in the ship’s log:

It had been a fast voyage so far. The anchor having been hove up eight weeks previously, the
Joanna Rose
had been towed by steamer to open water, where a wind from the
north west had filled her sails and seen 260 nautical miles pass under her keel and turn into wake by the following midday.

The shores of England were now only three weeks away, the equator crossing having been celebrated just the day before. Alex had proposed to Joanna during the revelries, and in front of everyone.
He had suggested this unorthodox and romantic ceremony himself, knowing it would appeal to her adventurous nature.

Joanna couldn’t stop smiling, and Alex couldn’t prevent himself from smiling back at her. ‘Now I’ve made an honest woman of you I can claim spousal rights without the
damned passengers gazing upon my overtures towards you with disapproval,’ he whispered against her ear.

She’d noticed that Alex was getting used to the ship’s motion now, though compared to her master, Thaddeus Scott, who’d spent his entire life at sea, he was a beginner, for he
still had to cling to whatever was handy each time the ship canted, and he wove from side to side when walking, as if he’d imbibed too much liquor.

The nimble-footed Joanna was much better at adjusting to the ship’s movement, but even she could be taken unawares. Alex laughed when a jolt pitched her forward into his arms and she said,
‘I swear, the sea’s got lumps in it today.’

‘You’d think that a ship which had been named after you would treat you more gently,’ Alex said.

Blue eyes blazing with happiness she gazed up at him. ‘Ah, but she threw me in the right direction, for this is exactly where I want to be.’

‘Is it now?’

Just then young Toby began to kick up a ruckus. Alex released her and stooped to pluck their son from the arms of the Chinaman, Chin Lee, who’d been holding him during the ceremony.

Toby had been born three months earlier in Melbourne, on the eighth day of January. Named Tobias Alexander, he’d quickly become Toby.

Father and son were alike with their dark hair and liquid dark eyes. For that reason alone, nobody would ever be able to dispute the relationship of the pair, though they might speculate about
the boy’s sudden appearance.

Joanna would never forget the look on Alex’s face when he’d first set eyes on his son, and, although Alex hadn’t said so at the time, Joanna knew the existence of the boy had
given him someone to provide a future for. It would be a close relationship, a far cry from the lonely childhood Alex himself had experienced, which had been reinforced by the shock disclosure that
he was the son of his mother’s affair, and not the absent father he’d always looked up to.

‘I must take Toby below and feed him,’ she said, refusing the celebratory tot of rum Thaddeus Scott laughingly offered her. It was a brew that was reputed to strip varnish from the
mast.

Alex declined it too, saying casually, ‘I’ll come with you and collect your luggage, for you’ll both be with me in the stateroom tonight.’

Later, when they were alone in their luxurious cabin together, Alex said, ‘Do you realize you’ve kept me waiting eight weeks?’

‘But we’d agreed to wait until we reached England before we wed.’

‘Damn it, Joanna, you never needed a ring on your finger before. We’ve already produced a son between us to prove it.’

‘I wanted the second one I conceived to be legitimate. Besides, it’s not my fault you were sick for the first few weeks at sea.’

Alex shuddered. ‘Don’t remind me. Thaddeus had no sympathy at all. He said I’d get over it, and as head of the Darsham and Morcant Shipping Company I should have gone to sea
earlier with my brother Oliver, to learn the ropes.’ He brushed a finger gently down the side of her face. ‘So why did you change your mind about waiting until we got back to
England?’

‘Why?’ She grinned. ‘How could I reject such a romantic proposal. And if you kiss me again, you will know exactly why. I just cannot resist you, Alex Morcant. We’ll cause
a scandal as it is when the existence of Toby is made known. And it will be me who’s whispered about, not you.’

He smiled at that. ‘I’ll tell them we were secretly married at Gretna Green.’

‘No more falsehoods, Alex. They’re too hard to maintain. Will you change the name of the shipping company now?’

Her blue eyes drowned in the darkness of his gaze. ‘Is that what
you
want, Joanna Rose?’

‘Yes. I talked it over with my father, and that’s what he wants too. He said that the less people who are reminded of the Darsham name, the more comfortable he’ll
feel.’

‘But when you married him neither of you knew of the blood tie between you.’

‘All the same, I can’t help feeling that I ruined his life. If he and I hadn’t accidentally met he’d still be running the company. He gave up everything he loved to save
my reputation.’

‘And his own, and the future of the company.’ Alex kissed the sadness from her lips. ‘You needn’t feel guilty, Joanna. Despite the problems it caused, finding you brought
Tobias Darsham great joy. It was just a pity that you wed. Luckily, he realized the mistake before any harm was done. Your father knows what he’s doing, he always has. He’s enjoying the
challenge of his new life.’

‘And he and Jane are expecting their first child.’ A smile spread across her face at the thought of having a brother or sister after a lifetime of being an only child. ‘He
deserves to be happy, Alex.’

‘Aye, he does. He told me that learning of your survival was something he’d treasure for the rest of his life. One day we’ll make this trip again, I promise. I can’t turn
my back on Tobias, or Gabriel Tremayne, as he now calls himself. He was always there for me as a child. I love the man as much as I love his daughter.’

‘Do you truly love me, Alex?’

‘What a thing to ask me on our wedding day,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘Would I have wed you otherwise?’

She wondered. If circumstances had been different, with their different backgrounds, would he have considered her a suitable wife for a successful businessman?

She dismissed the lingering doubt that she’d manoeuvred Alex into following her to Australia, and the thought that the existence of Toby had tightened the noose around him.
‘I’ll be a good wife to you, Alex. I promise.’

She was sitting on the bunk, which was fitted against the wall. He traced a fingertip across the breasts so recently exploited by their son. One by one he opened the buttons on her bodice to
expose the camisole beneath. She quivered when his lips grazed over the material, seeking the swollen nubs where their son had recently suckled.

He gazed down at her, unsure. ‘Are you positive you’re fully recovered from Toby’s birth?’

Her arms snaked around his neck and she gave an exasperated snort. ‘Are you going to talk all night, Alex Morcant?’

His eyes met hers for a moment, his lips twitched and his hands slid under her buttocks. Lifting her from the bunk he held her against him. Her long legs wound around his waist. How enticing she
was. He surged up to connect with her warmth, his need for her making him as eager as a youth as he pressed against the front of his linens. ‘I imagine not.’

She was laughing now, covering his face with kisses. He had a job lowering his trousers, and they were trapped around his ankles, so he teetered backwards on to the bunk with her on top of him,
his head in an awkward position against the bulkhead.

She stood up to pull his ankles free, throwing aside his shoes at the same time, then she bent forward and gently kissed him where it ached the most.

‘Oh, God,’ he groaned, feeling his control falter as she slipped from her skirt and tossed her bodice and camisole aside.

‘Do you like what you see?’ she cooed, parading in a red satin corselette, frothy petticoat and high buttoned boots.

‘You’re exquisite.’

She turned her back on him, looked over her shoulder and demanded, ‘Loosen my laces, then.’

He grinned at her tease. ‘Damn it, Joanna. I’m going to have you wearing them, first.’

‘Feeling frisky, are you?’ she whispered. ‘Lay down then, else you’ll break your neck.’

He was surprised by the request, but complied, sliding down on to the pillows. Under her flaming petticoat she wore nothing.