"Theo."
"Nay."
Philip sighed. He was sitting up in bed with the quilts pooled around his lap, regarding Theo impatiently. "If you do not help me, I shall go alone."
"You are still not well," Theo insisted, continuing to button up his waistcoat. "If you push yourself, your wound shall reopen."
"If I do not push myself, I shall die of boredom from reading your Chemistry books."
Theo paused in his buttoning to scowl at him. Philip regarded him flatly in return.
"Rest," Theo insisted, reaching for his coat.
"Lud, would that I could do anything else."
They still had no better plan, and it chafed at Theo's nerves. If he held Philip back for too long, he would go alone, which would put him in greater risk and leave him without assistance if he were to collapse.
There had been no sign of Philip's associate, Thomas Huxley, in the two weeks that Philip had been bedridden. The fact nagged at Theo's mind, and he knew it must trouble Philip far worse. Thomas had certainly known of Philip's repeat visits to the inn. Whether or not he knew of Philip's intimacy with the innkeeper, he would at least have known that Theo was an ally. If Thomas had been at liberty, at some point he would have come to the inn, for sanctuary or in search of Philip.
The inn's custom was increasing apace, no doubt helped along by the absence of highwaymen on the coaching road.
Travellers between the towns and villages of Cornwall made their stops at the inn more frequently, particularly those travelling on to Truro, and Theo began to find his inn fully booked more often than not, even without the patronage of the ghost-seekers. He felt oddly content with his day to day life, finding that the inn kept him busy enough.
Philip, he thought, was the most difficult part of his life. When he was away from Philip, tending to the responsibilities of the inn, he missed his lover and longed to return to him, but Philip remained restless and irritable from being cooped up with no entertainment. It was both soothing and maddening to be in his company, but Theo saw no way to improve the situation until such time as Philip had recovered his health.
When there was a knock at the inn door, Theo opened it without thinking, in between serving roast beef to one customer and heading to refill mugs of ale.
The sight of Mr Nash and Mr Button on the doorstep made his heart stutter, even though he'd hosted them multiple times without incident. "Mr Nash. Mr Button. Good morning to you both."
"Master Aylmer," said Mr Nash, with a nasty drawl. Theo's heart dropped into his gut. "How convenient to find you here."
"This is my inn, sirs," Theo said, stepping out of the way as the constables entered. Mr Button's bulk towered over him, and Theo drew himself up to his full height in order to regard them with as much authority as he could muster. "What is your business?"
"You see, Master Aylmer," said Mr Nash.
"Doctor," Theo corrected, wishing that the figures of authority in the region would stop discarding his title in order to intimidate him. "I am Theophilus Aylmer, Doctor of Chemistry."
"Of course," said Mr Nash, with false obsequiousness. "Sir."
"We're here about some inconsistencies in your taxes," said Mr Button.
"My taxes?"
"We paid a visit to Lord Kearney of Glynn, you see. It seems your inn owes the earl rather a lot of money," said Mr Nash, with a wicked smile.
Theo bristled. "I most certainly do not. I have the inn in my own right, and Lord Kearney has no claim upon it."
"Mayhap so," said Mr Button, "but you remain a resident of the local parish."
"And, you see," continued Mr Nash, "the village of Kearney has no rector of its own."
"So that part is filled by the benevolent Lord Kearney."
Theo curled his lip.
"And, as a member of the local parish—" said Mr Nash.
"—as you do live and operate your business within parish boundaries—" specified Mr Button.
"—you are subject to excise duties upon the operation of that business."
Folding his arms across his chest, Theo glared at the two of them. "I'm perfectly aware of the excise duties owed to the crown upon the sale of items in my inn, but I should like to see legal paperwork as to anything owed to the Earl of Glynn."
"But of course," said Mr Nash. "I'm certain you might speak with any qualified solicitor about the details of the tax laws."
"That won't change the fact that you owe years of unpaid duties to Lord Kearney."
"Decades worth," said Mr Nash, smiling widely.
"Very neglectful," said Mr Button.
"Shameful way to operate a business," said Mr Nash.
"I appreciate you men informing me of the matter." Theo kept his chin up, glaring stubbornly at them both. "I shall look into the details of it at once. Unless you have them on hand?"
"It so happens that we do," said Mr Nash, drawing out a sealed document from his inner pocket.
Theo took the paper, broke the seal, and felt the blood drain from his face at the number written on the interior. The page was full of legal words and specifications, none of which made any sense.
He was, however, certain of one thing. This trouble sourced from the vindictive and cruel Earl of Glynn, and the constables were only too happy to carry out tax collection and enforcement as a branch of their duties.
"I see," said Theo, folding the paper and nodding to the two of them. "Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. I'll see to it at once."
"We would never doubt you," said Mr Nash. "Now, have you any of that fine French brandy you served us before?"
Theo almost confirmed it before he recognised the trap. "Mr Nash?" he asked, all confused innocence. "I've never served French brandy in my inn. No, indeed." Clearing his throat, Theo swiftly took refuge in his performance as a prattling bore and hoped that the alarmed pounding of his heart wasn't evident. "It's only respectable English liquor that will be served in my establishment, I may assure you of that. Perhaps you're thinking of the fine whisky I have in stock? From Mr Allonsby's stock, and I think you'll find the excise duties on that all paid accordingly. May I fetch you a portion? Or perhaps you'll take a pint of ale."
"Sir," said Mr Crouch, touching Theo's elbow to draw his attention. "I've secured that blond ale in the cellar, as you bid."
The statement made no sense until Theo realised that Mr Crouch was referring to Philip. He would have had to go out the window in order to avoid coming down the stairs, but from there it would have been easy to sneak him down into the secret cellar while Theo was conversing with the customs men. "Thank you, Mr Crouch," said Theo. "Will you fetch a pour of the English whisky for Misters Button and Nash?"
"I regret we cannot stay," said Mr Nash. "Not for anything less than French brandy."
"I fear you'll have to betake yourselves to France for that," said Theo, trying not to imply too strongly how much he wished that they would.
"Ha!" said Mr Nash, without mirth. "Good day, Master Aylmer."
"Good day," said Theo, between gritted teeth.
He waited to be certain they were gone, continuing about his business around the main room and seeing to his other customers before he lit a candle and made his way down into the cellar. The document in his pocket hung like a lead weight, and his stomach roiled with worry.
Navigating around the casks of ale and barrels of apples, Theo felt for the catch of the concealed cellar room and released it.
Philip was seated comfortably amidst his casks of brandy, and he grinned up at Theo. "That didn't take long."
"No, the cost of their visit was rendered in other tender than time," said Theo, tossing the document into Philip's hands. "The earl has found a way to act upon his grudge against me. I know not whether the charges are valid, but I suspect the legality is irrelevant, if Misters Button and Nash are willing to act upon them."
Philip glanced over the charges and the amount demanded, frowning deeply. "Shall you fight it in court?"
"If I must," said Theo, taking a seat upon a cask of brandy and sighing in frustration. "But I rather thought there might be another way to settle our problems."
Curious, Philip glanced up.
Theo held out his hand. "Let's go haunt the greedy old bastard."
Grinning wide, Philip clasped Theo's hand and pulled himself to his feet. "You'll come?"
"If only to prevent you going alone."
Philip nodded, pleased by the decision. "Tonight, then. Send Erasmus to fetch Judith. We'll need her counsel if we're to succeed."
*~*~*
"This is folly and madness," Judith said.
Philip sat in Theo's one bedroom chair, which had been settled near the fire for warmth, and folded his arms to indicate the seriousness of his intent. Theo leaned on the arm of the chair, protective of his lover, and folded his arms likewise.
"All my life is folly and madness," Philip said. Theo was glad to hear the light, playful edge had returned to his voice, making him once again the gallant and charming rogue who had first charmed Theo's affections. "And you may be reassured to know that Theo has informed me thoroughly and repeatedly of the level of folly and madness involved in this venture."
"We cannot risk revealing him," Theo explained. "The constables are already against us, the earl no doubt would have sway in the county courts, and we have no proof but his resemblance. If we search his private papers…"
"Or simply drive him to distraction by playing the part of a vengeful ghost," Philip interrupted.
Theo shot him a reprimanding glare. "Perhaps we might find some account or clue that strengthens Philip's claim."
"I have toiled in the Glynn estate for nigh on fifty years," Judith said, "and served my Lord Simeon Kearney for half of that. If he had kept some account or clue of his crimes, do you not think I should have found it?"
"If he had…" Theo hesitated. He still doubted the wisdom of this plan, and all the risks involved. "If he had kept some account or clue, he would have protected it above all his other secrets. He would have kept it close to his person, and safely out of the reach of even the most industrious maidservant."
Judith frowned, casting her eyes aside. "It is true that he allows no one inside his study, not even to clean, unless it is under his supervision."
"Then we start in the study," said Philip. "Will you help us, Judith?"
Judith shook her head and winced, brow creased with concern. "My lord, I beg you to reconsider."
"If you can recommend some other course," Philip spoke gently, with a degree of kindness that Theo had not previously seen from him, "I would hear it, and be most sincerely grateful for it."
They waited as she wrung her hands. Theo likewise strained his mind for any alternative to improve their situation other than hiding Philip away or smuggling him to France until Simeon Kearney died and the constables forgot.
"I have none, my lord. If you had family living, they might speak on your behalf, or if we could find some university companion of your father's with power and influence to shadow the earl's…"
"But you know of none."
She shook her head.
"It's not a bad idea," Theo said. "A university man—do you recall the university? Perhaps we might yet find someone who remembers Jeremiah Kearney."
"It isn't the worst plan," Philip agreed, "but we have neither the time nor the money to hare off across England in search of someone who remembers my father, believes our story, has power and influence, and is willing to wield it in our service."
"Our service?" Theo asked.
"Aye, you are bound to me, are you not?" Philip tugged him down into a brief kiss, heedless of Judith's gaze. "I intend to keep you, Theophilus, and you may be certain that I will not risk the loss of you."
Surprised by the sentiment, even despite their earlier vows, Theo coloured.
"If…" Philip rubbed his jaw as he thought. "If this plan goes ill, or if Simeon Kearney cannot be swayed by guilt, then I shall go in search of a university acquaintance. It is worth the attempt, if we can invent no other option."
Theo took a deep breath, accepting that they were committed to this plan, madness and folly though it might be. He felt the weight of the silence between them in the room, and took it to signify their confederacy.
"Will you help us, Mistress Wright?" Philip asked.
"There are tunnels," Judith said. "An old tunnel under the estate. It runs from the kitchens to the chapel outbuilding of the estate. Smuggler's tunnels or an escape route in case of siege, I know not their original purpose. They are little-known among the staff and not used. I can show you the access tunnels, and I will make certain to leave the latch open on the interior side. It will get you inside unseen. Few of the staff remain awake at night: the earl employs as few as he can, and pays them meanly."
"That will suffice," Philip said. "Theo, do you know the chapel outbuilding she means?"
"I do."
"Then we will go tonight. After the moon is up. Will you be waiting?"
Judith's weathered face was stern with determination. She nodded once.
Theo felt his heart lurch in his chest, wanting desperately for there to be another way. They had no plan and few advantages, and everything to lose. It felt in part like one of his adventures as a schoolboy, but this adventure was far more dangerous.
"If you're to play the part of your father's ghost, I'll see if I can fetch some of his old clothing for you. It may yet fit you, and it would help to sell the farce. Simeon would recognise it, to be sure, and it would strike righteous fear into his withered old heart."
Philip grinned and nodded. "I would appreciate that, Judith. If you would."
"Tonight," she said. "The chapel. At moonrise."
"Tonight," Philip repeated.
Judith curtseyed to him, and let herself out of the room.
"It's folly," Theo said, for the twentieth time.
"As we've said." Philip grinned up at him. "And it is also an adventure, Theo. What, have you never in your life caused a bit of havoc?"
Theo returned the grin. "I shall have you know that I have caused havoc aplenty in my day."
"La! You, the civil scholar, causing havoc? I do not believe it."
"I assure you it is true. I was a wicked and mischievous schoolboy."
Philip laughed. "I should very much have liked to see that."
"You may yet," Theo promised him, straightening up. "Now let's have you to bed. If we're to cause mischief tonight, then I will have you as well-rested as I may."
"Lord send me no more rest," Philip groaned, but he allowed himself to be drawn from the chair and settled into bed. "I am not tired."
Ignoring his complaint, Theo smiled and kissed him, then drew up the covers. "Rest. Tonight we haunt."