Elisabeth was unsure what to make of the note from Henry, first of all his declaration things could not go on as they were. Did it hint at a weakening of his position? The assurance Harry Spafford was not within the house seemed even more curious. It was immediately open to question as to whether it was a trap, a prime example of the degree of distrust which had grown between them, one which would surely never be resolved. Should she join him for breakfast as he suggested, or send back a note to decline?
Elisabeth had always held herself to be more spirited than her brother. As a young man he had shied away from anything physical, the kind of manly pursuits common in her father’s day, which saw crowds of visitors coming to Cottington Court. Riding to hounds and hare coursing, shooting game when the proper seasons came round, attendance at cockfights and bare-knuckle boxing contests held in the grounds, not that Elisabeth had been exposed to the latter.
To decline would smack of anxiety, more likely to encourage than discourage Henry, reasoning which got her out of her bedroom. The moment of entry into the dining room was one of pretend calm. Heart fluttering, she forced herself to act as if nothing was untoward, as if she was engaged in a daily activity in a normal household. Henry nodded but said nothing, while her Aunt Sarah, clearly surprised and not forewarned, kept her eyes firmly fixed on her plate. Having chosen what she required from the chafing dishes on the sideboard, Elisabeth sat down to pick up her knife and fork, though they poised over the plate, away from the food, frozen there by Henry speaking.
‘It pleases me you’ve accepted my invitation.’
The silkiness of the tone was too much; despite prior strictures nothing should be allowed to irritate her, Elisabeth could not avoid her pithy response. ‘It does not occur to you I might be here because it is my right to be?’
Expecting him to rise to anger, she was thrown by the even tone of the response. ‘It shows what we’ve come to when you feel the need to say so.’
‘This ham is particularly fine,’ Sarah Lovell exclaimed with a sort of nervous trill, so obviously a ploy to ward off unpleasantness even Henry managed the ghost of a smile. ‘Smoked to perfection, though I rate the pigeon a trifle tough.’
‘Aunt Sarah, my sister and I have matters of a personal nature to discuss and, while I feel you to be as much a part of the family as either of us, I wonder if you could see your way to leaving so we can talk alone?’
The eating implements clattered on to her crockery as she pursed her lips, though no words followed. The first part of what had been said did not marry up with the rest; she was plainly being told, when it came to family, she was at best on the periphery. Henry had never lacked the ability to be insensitive, while to her niece, Sarah Lovell deserved whatever he cared to hand out. Yet did she want to be alone with him, even if she was intrigued?
‘I have no objection to your remaining, Aunt,’ Elisabeth said, her subjective reason being to say, if Henry wanted something, it was axiomatic she did not. ‘I’m sure you’re just as curious as I to find out what my brother sees as so personal you should not be free to participate.’
Lovell’s face was like a mask: bloodless and rigidly set. Here was another example of her lowly standing in the household. Everyone knew it to be so, but it was something she declined to take on board unless it was thrown in her face, which of late had been too many times, by both nephew and niece. Knowing there was little alternative, she sought to cover her belittling with an excuse.
‘As it happens, I have many things to attend to. You will be aware, Henry, this household does not run itself.’
Elisabeth had a vision then, of the servants below stairs, paying a price for what had just occurred. Sarah Lovell did indeed run the household, but was not loved for her haughty and impatient manner, which she required to maintain her dignity. Lovell described herself, to anyone who enquired, as a guest who’d sacrificed much, having come to Cottington to help her late sister look after the children. In truth, the arrival of her and her husband had been due to the complete collapse of his dubious business speculations, leading to the loss of both their Canterbury home and her prized social position.
Henry was all smooth appreciation for this apparent self-sacrifice. ‘I’m sure you know how grateful I am, Aunt Sarah, and please let me know of anything you require to ease the burden you have so kindly taken on. Perhaps we can have tea together later.’
The tone of the reply failed to match the words as her napkin was folded slowly and deliberately before being, with excessive care, set down by the side of her cup.
‘I look forward to it.’
‘Was that necessary, Henry?’ was asked once she’d left the room.
‘I think it so.’
‘For which there must be a reason.’
Henry pushed his chair back from the table, laboriously wiping his mouth with his napkin before speaking. ‘I asked you to come here because this is a room the servants will not enter until it is time to clear things away. It is thus one of the only two rooms where I can guarantee we will not be overheard. I reckoned an invitation to come to the other, my study, would not have been accepted.’
Even if it was the truth, Elisabeth declined to agree. ‘I go where I please.’
A slight gesture of frustration crept into his voice as he responded. ‘Do you indeed?’
‘Please get to the point, brother.’
‘Very well. First let me say to you, on certain conditions being agreed, Harry Spafford will never again reside at Cottington Court. While I know you will be suspicious of any promise I make, this is one I see as being in my interest to keep.’
‘Which implies there are others it would not trouble you to break.’
Such an obvious truth was neatly sidestepped. ‘Have you ever stopped to ask yourself why I objected to your marrying this Brazier?’
‘This Edward, you mean.’ A shrug. ‘I’ve sought a reason many times and can only conclude this. Anything which makes me happy has the opposite effect on you.’
‘Which I can refute absolutely.’
‘Really? I seem to recall you were the same when it came to my marrying Stephen Langridge, only to abruptly change your mind when you heard he’d inherited his uncle’s plantations. Even seeing you as a misanthrope, the speed of the change perplexed me.’
‘Misanthrope?’ got a less tranquil look; it was not a description to please him at all.
‘For all your faults, Henry, I did not have you down as a money-grubber.’
‘Suggesting I saw Stephen as a burden on the family purse?’
‘What else?’
‘I admit to thinking him originally an unsuitable match and take leave to suggest our father, had he been alive, would have agreed. Stephen had no money to speak of, so could not have supported you, even given your very substantial dowry, without my help. You were brought up to expect an open purse.’
Much as he tried to disguise it, there was a trace of bitterness in the last remark. She had been the cossetted daughter, tutored at home by a pliable governess until her aunt arrived and took on the role, always able to twist an indulgent parent round her little finger, doubly so when her mother passed away. Henry was son to a stern father who expected much, sent away to be educated and, judging by what she knew from his visits home, hating every day of it. Their lives could not have been more in contrast and she was sure the resentments Henry felt for what she saw as her good fortune stemmed from this.
‘In loco parentis, I was your guardian, so I had a duty to protect you.’
‘So I’m right.’
‘Partially so, but let me make plain to you it was not the value of the plantations Stephen inherited which changed my mind so quickly, but their location. In Jamaica you and he would be a long way off and in no position to probe into matters here and even, heaven forbid, give cause for worry.’
‘What matters?’
‘The same as those I cannot have looked into by someone like Brazier. You’ve been made aware by him of what they are, though I doubt the extent. Why seek to run off with him, if that’s not the case?’
Henry’s openness, even the manner in which it was being expressed, flew right in the face of his normal cautious and secretive behaviour, another trait he’d shown since childhood. It threw Elisabeth off balance, so what came next was expressed to give her time to think rather than to acknowledge what she knew.
‘Do I understand you to be admitting to what you denied when I challenged you previously?’
‘Obviously, but you need to understand my motives, so I concluded it is perhaps best if I tell you everything. Are you prepared to hear it, for I fear it may shock you?’
‘I’m not a child.’
‘We’ll see.’
The food in the chafing dishes grew cold as he did as indicated, despite the tiny candles sat beneath. Eventually even they, one by one, spluttered and died. Henry went all the way back to grandfather Corley and the ruffian he’d been, a drinker and brawler by reputation, smuggler of repute, until he bought Cottington Court and set out to find respectability.
‘I heard stories of his ways too, Henry, though our father, who never hid his pride, made them sound like amusing escapades.’
‘Then it’s probably a good thing you were not told everything. Such a description does not do justice to his antics, which in such a context has seen two words used which should not have been employed. Father was more open with me and it did not make easy listening. Our grandfather was a brutal rogue with the blood of others on his hands. But old Corley is long gone, so it’s about our father we must speak. I know you were close to each other.’
‘While you struggled to match it?’
‘Our relationship was certainly very different, but I see now he treated me in a way he saw as necessary.’
‘Which was?’
‘That of his heir. The world he sought to prepare me for was a hard one, not of the kind you were expected to face.’
‘What’s the purpose of all this, Henry?’
‘To find out if you’re willing to see everything he and our family worked to create pulled down about our ears, to trash both our father’s reputation and our prosperity.’ A waved hand was used to encompass not just the room, but the estate in its entirety. ‘To see this destroyed over an infatuation.’
‘I’ll let the last word pass.’
‘Out of curiosity, no doubt,’ Henry replied, with just a hint of gloat, ‘for what I must tell you is a tale of parental genius. Our father took the trade of smuggling, which he inherited, to a level never before achieved. Are you willing to listen and find out what was vouchsafed to me and kept from you?’
Part of Elisabeth did not want to hear it, but it could not compete with a need to know. Henry described the way the enterprise had been set up and run, not the overt trade carried out by Corley, but as a cabinet of secrets kept in separate compartments so only he, like his father before him, had control of all the components. Of Dirley being another cog in the family enterprise, who corresponded with their suppliers through a regular courier service between London and France, it being impossible to trust to any kind of postal service. Dirley handled the account which paid for everything ordered, placed with Jewish bankers in the City, the sums forwarded to France and another consortium who oversaw both supply and transport, which meant they owned the ships so nothing could be traced back to the family.
‘What kind of ships?’
‘Proper merchant vessels carrying full cargoes and regularly, outside the high summer months. If intercepted by the Excise – always a risk, if not a high one – they can claim to be off course, which is a common enough occurrence. The captain carries the correct manifests to prove they are on legitimate business, as well as a false list of importers awaiting delivery. Again, nothing can be traced back to this house.’
‘Uncle Dirley is surely exposed?’
‘No. Being a lawyer, he can claim he is acting on behalf of a client fund with no knowledge of what any monies transferred are for; in addition he advises on the best use of the profits on the same basis. He’s legally bound not to disclose any business or even conversations which take place between him and those who employ his services. But he too knows no more than is required. If you were to ask him where the contraband is landed, he could only guess, but he never enquires. If he did, he would not be told. Our father would have done likewise, and he trusted Dirley completely.’
‘Which seems to imply you don’t.’
‘Let us say I’ve recently had cause to remind him of our respective positions, which would previously have been unnecessary. He was older and a mentor to our father when he was growing up, I do not have a similar connection. He was also a very good guide to what I needed to know, not everything being passed on before father died. Such is no longer the case. It will take him time to see things are not as they were, but I have no doubt he’ll be content in time. Now, let us turn to matters closer to home.’
The role of Hawker was described, though both the name and his brutality were glossed over, as were the monies he and his gang of ruffians extracted from the traders of Deal, those who supplied the ever-changing merchant fleet, to ensure they could operate in peace. Hawker had legitimate well-rewarded jobs, both running the slaughterhouse and tax collecting; his men did not. What was paid by businesses to prevent trouble provided a good wage to such creatures, again cutting out any connection to the family, who had no need to supply funds, none of what was extracted being passed upwards.
Also unmentioned was Hawker’s ability to either send the Excise running in the wrong direction or, should the occasion demand it, offer up a small-time smuggling operation on the beach to divert their attention from the Tulkington operations. The community there saw him as their best friend, the man they could tell of their plans, for he could warn them of Revenue activity, little knowing he was also the best source the government agents had for surprise arrests.
‘Our father took this fellow under his wing at an early age and his loyalty is rock-solid. He collects government imposts on behalf of the family, which, being a well-rewarded sinecure means we never have to justify our prosperity. He’s also in a position to find out, without arousing suspicion, what each outlet requires in the way of untaxed goods and they are numerous. Even to you, it will not be seen as strange there’s a lively local need to be satisfied.’
This was seen as condescending: Elisabeth was not so naive.
‘You cannot live in this part of the world, Henry, and not know about the running of contraband. We used to play Excisemen and smuggler games down by the lake as children. I had always assumed this household to be one of those doing the buying in.’
‘Our fellow, who is a devil with figures, is also able to ensure no one makes stupid errors in their own accounts, which could raise questions under examination. This happens rarely but, when it does, it is always without warning. Their ledgers must marry up with the accounts and monies we submit to Whitehall and they do.’
Henry not only declined to mention John Hawker by name. He also left out how the goods were distributed, this the responsibility of one trusted business, paid in coin so it could not be traced. Tobias Sowerby provided the vans and one or more barges to take the contraband from where it was stored to where the customers were waiting; certain coaching inns where numerous conveyances would not appear unusual, likewise barges travelling up to London. This guaranteed no paperwork, as well as a collaborator who dare not have his activities face investigation.
Overall, the costs of operations were higher than the more commonplace forms of over-the-beach smuggling, but such open activity was riskier by far and could never have worked at the level and quantities employed. Over time, profits, plus the fact of being impervious to scrutiny, justified the complex arrangements. Henry now owned substantial properties in a capital city rapidly expanding westwards.
‘Do you now see? I’m driven by my need to protect the family, which includes you. I admit my objection to Stephen Langridge was ill-judged. I know you were friends through childhood, but it seemed to me a foolish basis on which to marry, and I had always seen you both as immature in the extreme.’
The temptation to say they’d taken pleasure from their life when growing up, while he had not, stayed unspoken, not that she got much chance: he was in full flow.
‘Recall our father had not long passed away. I claim to have been nervous, being fresh to the level of responsibility. It’s just as likely, judging by what you’ve said about your games and, being local, he would have been no trouble at all, perhaps even an asset. Believe me when I say your loss saddens me.’
‘But Edward?’
‘He’s not local, is he?’
‘It’s more than that, Henry.’
‘He’s a total stranger to this part of the world and this household and he’s also a King’s officer. I know the navy declines to allow its vessels to be used to stop smuggling, but it’s very much a choice of individual commanders once at sea. How can anyone tell which one will act and which would turn a blind eye? You’re happy to tell me he was assiduous, in the West Indies, in interdicting trade from the ex-colonies. This may come as a recommendation to some, but not to me. It suggests someone who would find it impossible to reconcile himself to what I do.’
Much as she’d wanted to object and question the whole explanation, what Henry was saying made sense: the family was rich, while Acton Tulkington had been known throughout the district as lavish in his disbursements. As a girl, how the family made its money was of no interest; she was just happy there was always enough to indulge her whims and fancies. Parties, ponies and horses, clothes and entertainments for her friends, taking them on trips to see curiosities and tableaux, as well as servants in abundance to oblige her every requirement.
Should she have been more inquisitive growing up? There was a realisation she’d never really managed to achieve such an estate here at Cottington. Maturity had come to her in the West Indies, along with the responsibility of running her own household. If there had been secrets, callers who came and went without being introduced, conferring with her father in his study, now Henry’s, adding an air of conspiracy in their dealings: it was men’s business and none of her concern.
Sometimes an atmosphere of dispute was apparent, raised voices behind closed doors and a strain in conversations when gathered for meals. There had been one uncomfortable period she could vaguely recall, when relations between her father and Aunt Sarah’s husband seemed overwrought, but this too had washed over her. Such things could not draw her attention away from her own concerns, which, on reflection, now seemed even more trivial than she’d previously admitted them to be.
‘Why was I not trusted to be told?’
‘It would not be for lack of trust but an excess of protection, which devolved to me.’ The memory produced a glare and had him add, ‘What could have come about if I’d let you marry a serving naval officer and one of whom I have no knowledge; a potential fortune-hunter, who openly admitted to not owning a home of his own? I thought perhaps he saw himself living here.’
‘He more than possessed the means to purchase a suitable home. He does not want for money.’
‘His fortune in prize money, you mean? Of this I have yet to see evidence but that is by the by. I could not risk his living here and discovering things, which, should he choose to expose them, would destroy the family, which includes you.’
‘Who would reckon you innocent, sister?’
‘All of this shows you to be no judge of your fellow man. I can tell you Edward was willing to keep things to himself for my sake. He told me so and would have told you too if you’d bothered to enquire.’
‘Then why was he in league with William Pitt?’