When Theo woke the next morning, Mr Crouch and Mr Mondy were already in conference in the kitchen.
He could hear them speaking in low voices as he made his way down the stairs, but then one of the treads creaked under his foot and they fell silent.
"Good morning, Mr Mondy," Theo said. "Mr Crouch."
His meagre staff nodded and grunted in reply. They each had a mug, and Theo suspected that the brandy had been sampled.
Lifting his chin and trying to seem like he knew what he was about, Theo scowled. "When you can, Mr Crouch, see to it that the brandy delivery is stored appropriately. And if I catch either of you dipping into it, you shall be dismissed. I won't accept laziness. You'll serve me with the diligence that you served my father in his better days, or you'll be sent away. Mr Mondy, we'll need a maid-of-all-work to see to the cleaning. Arrange for one, if there isn't already."
Mr Crouch's shoulders drew back and Mr Mondy's brows lifted, but they both straightened up and headed off to their work.
Once they had gone, Theo looked about the empty kitchen, realising that he had no useful task for himself. The fire was burning cheerfully, so he set the kettle to heating and ate some of the stale bread Mr Mondy had bought yesterday—with his own funds, no doubt.
Soon enough, his two employees would expect their pay, and Theo had nothing to give but the scarce few in his pocket from yesterday's custom. The coins might be enough to provide food for their customers and themselves for another day or two, but they would not last long unless Theo could rely upon a regular flow of custom to the inn.
The brandy would help. A cellar full of smuggled brandy, and a potential village full of drinkers. With the sale of the brandy, the inn might survive the week, and then perhaps they'd find a way to manage through the next week after that.
There was a tin of tea on the shelf, with nothing but a faint powder remaining at the bottom. Theo put it back, and picked up one of the empty mugs that had been left on the table. Mr Crouch's was empty, but Mr Mondy's still had half a swallow of brandy remaining. Theo drank it.
It was snowing outside. Slow, steady swirls of white danced in the road and across the fields.
Pulling his muffler up, Theo turned toward the village.
As he walked, he became aware of how his heart was throbbing dully in his chest. It felt sharp and compressed, and there were thorns in his throat.
Everything he'd thought he'd known about the world had been shattered. His father dead, and Cambridge unreachably distant.
He felt as though he'd slept through the past dozen years. His education had been a dream, nothing more than a child's fancy, and he'd awoken to find that he'd never left Cornwall.
Cornwall had slept along with him. Feral and neglected, it burrowed beneath a coating of snow and shirked its responsibilities.
He counted which of the farmhouses had a trail of smoke rising from the chimneys and which didn't. It seemed to him that there were more awake than there had been yesterday. Cornwall still lived. But when he stopped to stare at the cold and sleeping houses, he saw neglect and abandonment. Shutters hung askew, barns stood open, and one roof was caved in entirely.
According to Theo's count by the time he reached the centre of the village, fourteen houses were occupied, and five were in some state of neglect or abandonment.
Within the village, he spotted a blacksmith and a bakery, a church with a precariously lopsided wrought-iron fence, and a little general store with the shutters closed.
Theo tried the door. It opened.
A woman in a mob cap was stocking the scanty goods upon the shelves. She turned around at Theo's entrance and stared at him.
"I'm Theo Aylmer," he spoke quietly, feeling as though his voice might shatter the fragile husk of the village. "I need supplies for the inn."
Her mouth fell open. She was a plain woman with a long face, with a few grey wisps of hair escaping from her cap. Of middling height and weight, she would have been easy to overlook in any village larger than Kearney, or in any room with more than two people.
"You're Theo Aylmer," she repeated at last. She folded her hands in front of herself, creeping forward to see him. "You are indeed. My… my condolences, Master Aylmer."
"Thank you," Theo said.
She continued staring.
"The supplies for the inn," Theo prompted her.
"Of course, Master Aylmer," she said, turning toward the counter. "I received no order for the inn—what will you have?"
"I…" Theo looked around the shop, finding himself at a loss. "I suppose I'm not certain. I need the basics of whatever keeps an inn functional. Whatever has been ordered for the inn, in the past."
Approaching the counter, Theo dipped into his pocket for his little store of coins and set them in her view. "This is what I have. Does anyone keep meat animals?"
"Your father did, a year ago." She counted through the coins. Her face pinked with embarrassment. "No one in Kearney has an animal to spare. Not for this."
"Some tea," Theo suggested. "A few candles. And perhaps a sachet or two of dried herbs, like my mother used to use to keep the bed linens fresh for the inn. We won't starve at the inn, not yet. But… we're in need of custom."
"Everyone is," the shopkeeper told him. She smiled apologetically.
"There's brandy," Theo told her quietly.
Her eyes sharpened with interest, and she nodded once. "I'll put the word out, that you're in need of such things as aid in the running of an inn. Food and supplies."
"And a woman to help clean and keep the rooms," Theo said.
She nodded again. Fetching three candles, a tin of tea, and a bundle of lavender, she took slightly over half his coins and pushed the rest back toward him.
Theo had the vague sense that he'd just opened negotiations to bartering with the townsfolk for brandy, but he supposed he would accept aid and supplies by whatever means available. "Thank you."
Gathering his coins, he went to leave.
Halfway to the door, Theo stopped and turned back. "My father. I don't know where he was buried."
"You'll find the stone in the churchyard," she said.
Theo nodded and left.
*~*~*
It didn't take him long to find his father's gravestone, laid alongside his mother's.
A simple stone marker sufficed for each of them, carved with name and dates.
1695-1747.
I thought you'd live forever.
I feel now like I dreamed you. Somewhere on the other side of a decade and a war, my education and my career, I had a father.
I remember the way you laughed when you'd drunk a little too much of your own supplies of gin. I remember the way you beat me when you'd drunk far too much.
I remember being cold. I remember hating you.
I remember how, over the years, that hatred turned stale and diminished into simply a faint distaste.
What use did I have for a strict, temperamental drunkard, a country rube, a fat innkeep who pinched his pennies and ruled like a tyrant over his inn and his family?
I only thought of you in my nightmares, where you were perpetually drunk and irritable and chasing me through the corridors and libraries of my dreams, threatening to drag me home again to the inn, where I belonged, or raging at me for letting the fire go out.
I'd give anything to have you alive again, if it would save me from having to become you.
*~*~*
On his way back, he saw Mr Mondy on the road from the earl's estate. He was walking alongside a tall, skinny woman with her grey hair done up on her head.
Theo stood in the centre of the road to watch them approach. Mr Mondy waved once he caught sight of his employer, and the woman lifted her head to take his measure.
She towered over Mr Mondy. Sharp-nosed and sharp-jawed, she gave Theo a surprisingly warm smile in greeting. "Good day, Master Aylmer."
"Good day," Theo said, brow furrowed.
"I am Judith Wright," she said. "I knew you as a boy."
Judith. Theo cast a glance toward Mr Mondy, not feeling particularly forgiving of his manservant taking the opportunity to visit his paramour when there was so much to be done at the inn. "Has Mr Mondy engaged you to clean for us?"
"Nay, but my granddaughter will serve for that," Judith said, watching Theo with a calm, measured gaze. "It will do her good to have some proper employment."
That undercut any of Theo's possible scolding, even though Mr Mondy still seemed to be busying himself with flirting rather than working. "I see. My thanks for that, Mrs Wright. As soon as she can be sent, the inn requires prompt attention."
Theo directed a reprimanding glance at Mr Mondy, and then he strode ahead of them, headed toward the inn.
*~*~*
Theo was awakened again in the night by an urgent rapping upon the door downstairs.
He sat up and reached for his greatcoat, hoping that midnight arrivals to his inn were not to become a frequent occurrence.
Neither Mr Mondy nor Mr Crouch seemed aware of the racket. The impatient banging at the door continued as Theo lit a candle and made his way downstairs. He hesitated with a hand upon the latch. Cornwall had brought strange things aplenty, some of them dangerous.
"Who goes?" Theo called through the door.
"Philip. Open up."
Philip, the smuggler and highwayman. Foremost among the strange and dangerous things Cornwall had set in wait for him.
Gritting his teeth, Theo opened the door. "What the devil are you…"
Not waiting for courtesies, Philip pushed his way in and shut the door. "Good evening, Doctor Aylmer."
He was alone and unburdened with any goods. Leaning back against the door, Philip tilted his head as if listening.
A thrill of danger shot down Theo's spine. "What the devil are you about?"
"It's the devil on my tail," Philip said, and then flashed Theo a smile. "Or the customs men, as it may be."
Trying for the possible bounty on Philip's head instantly struck him as appealing. Theo wrestled with the temptation and ignored how his heart was pounding. If he was caught aiding a smuggler and a highwayman, it would mean a far more serious punishment than he'd ever earned for his rule-breaking and mischief at school. "What makes you think I'll give you sanctuary?"
"My charming smile and unflagging spirit," Philip said.
"The devil may take you," Theo retorted, still bitter about the highway robbery.
Philip doffed his hat and clasped it in front of him in a show of sincerity. "I beg of you."
Theo's heart lurched in his chest. He'd never been a lickspittle at university, such as would tell tales upon his friends—honour among thieves, it had been. Whenever there had been some opportunity for mischief or contraband, Theo had been in the thick of it. And yet ever since he'd gained his doctorate, the only opportunities for mischief or contraband had been situations of crime and legitimate risk.
Much like this one. Theo's old sense of honour stung him. There was no crime more hated among schoolboys than that of the tale-teller.
Philip's bounty would buy Theo's way back home to Cambridge, at the price of Theo's honour and self-respect.
Brigand though Philip might be, Theo was no friend to the customs men of England.
Shoulders sagging, Theo nodded and set the latch. "Come on, then. Quietly."
He was tempted to lodge Philip in the cellar with his brandy, but that seemed both needlessly cruel and potentially expensive. The guest rooms all had old-fashioned latches rather than expensive locks, and therefore he could not lock Philip in a room to keep track of him.
Resolving himself, Theo led the way up the steps to his own room so that they could speak without being interrupted. He had not yet resolved on what he intended to do with Philip.
Philip snooped around the room at once, picking up one of the chemistry texts which Philip had left out upon the desk. "Chemistry? Odd choice for an innkeep."
"I'm not an innkeep, I'm a scholar."
Philip glanced over with raised brow.
Folding his arms, Theo scowled. "I am resolved not to be an innkeep for long, at any rate. As soon as may be done, I shall sell the inn, and then you may serve as goad to someone else's temper."
"A pity," Philip said, putting the book back where he'd found it. "I'm sure that your replacement will not be so charming."
"I've done nothing to charm you, sirrah," Theo said. "Quite on the contrary, I would hope to discourage you from all further company."
Philip smiled and took a step closer. "You are flushed, Doctor Aylmer."
"It is cold in here."
"So it is. I might warm you."
Theo felt his cheeks heat. It wasn't the first he'd noticed of Philip's flirtation, but this time it was unmistakeable as anything else. "I've agreed to provide you shelter for the night, no more."
"To be sure," Philip said. He made a gallant half-bow, but the teasing curve of his lips said that he wouldn't mind if there were to be more. "I'm certain I've misheard the rumours of the proclivities of university men, then."
"What!" Theo exclaimed, striding forward to demand explanation. "Of what rumours do you speak?"
"Nothing extraordinary," Philip assured him. "Only that so many of them are unmarried, and that they prefer the company of their fellow…"
Theo flushed and clenched his fists.
"Scholars," Philip finished, looking merry about the gills.
"I find that extraordinary," Theo said. "And ungallant of you, sir."
"I do sincerely beg your forgiveness," said Philip. He sat upon the edge of the bed and began removing his boots. "Tell me your Christian name. Or must I continue to call you Doctor Aylmer?"
Theo considered being pettish and refusing to disclose his name, but he was beginning to suspect that the brigand enjoyed nettling him. "Theo."
"A pleasure to meet you, Theo." Philip set aside his boots and then removed his greatcoat. "Short for Theodore?"
"Short for Theophilus."
Philip brayed a laugh and then attempted to turn it into a cough. "Theophilus," he repeated. "Enchanté."
"Here now." Theo's alarm rose suddenly as Philip continued undressing. He removed his coat and tossed it over a chair. "I hope you do not think you will be sharing my bed."
"Shall I not?" Philip had that same teasing smile on his lips, as though he had possession of some secret.
Theo snatched up his boots and thrust them toward the brigand. "I'll provide you a room—see here, will you stop undressing…"
Philip pulled lightly on the end of his own neckcloth. It unravelled at his touch, revealing the skin of his throat and how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. "Shan't you be cold?"
Sighing with frustration, Theo seized him by the ends of the neckcloth and dragged him to his feet. "You sorely tempt me to cast you out upon the hospitality of the constables."
Philip's smile did not dim. Tempting. Dangerous.
Seizing Philip's discarded coats, Theo led him to the room adjacent and cast them inside on the floor. "Silent, mind you," he hissed. "Stay put until I come and fetch you."
Not allowing Philip any opportunity to counter with a clever remark, Theo shut the door.
His hands were shaking.
He'd gone years with little company of his own age, and even here in Cornwall, he'd seen few children and no young men other than Philip. The brigand reminded him of his friends in university, all of them lively and inclined to mischief, and the reminder encouraged Theo's mind to stray farther, onto the times that he'd shared a bed with one or more of his friends.
Most of those times had been innocent enough. Theo's chambers had been the nearest to the pub where they all liked to drink, and sometimes they would stumble late back to his rooms and collapse there, or retire early but spend half the night talking nonsense and philosophy.
A few times had been less innocent. Theo remembered kisses and fumbling in the dark, sweet and urgent. He'd never sought out similar affection from women, and hadn't allowed himself to dwell on how much he missed those few nights of fumbling, though neither he nor his friends had ascribed any particular significance to them.
Philip had soft, red lips, as might be sweet to kiss.
Theo retreated to his room and shut the door. He set the latch.
Sleep didn't come for a long time.