Edward Brazier awoke at his usual time, soon fully aware he was in for a demanding day. He was determined to go to Cottington Court, despite the fact Betsey and he were due to meet at Quebec House that very afternoon. These visits took place regularly now, to maintain the fiction that his abode was one of their two main places of contact. It was not just a question of an inability to wait: what he wanted to talk about had to be done in private.
Joe Lascelles brought him a morning coffee, along with his grin, to be asked about the weather.
‘Wind west sou’ west and the sky fair. Looks to be a good day in the offing, but cloudy.’
That had been a worry; he had sensed no coming rain on the way home the previous night, but you could never be sure on the coast, the conditions being so rapidly changeable.
‘Towels are laid out, your honour.’
Routine had been quickly established with Joe about, almost to the level it was at sea, where the naval day could be unchanging if nothing untoward appeared to disrupt it. He would don a gown and his old ducks and head for the beach to swim, returning to a bathtub laid out and water warmed, with which to wash the salt from his body and hair. He would then shave, by which time Joe would have cooked and laid out his breakfast, the others taking theirs in the rear parlour.
The ability to entertain had been tested and passed, so he could claim to occupy a fully functioning house. Joe Lascelles provided excellent food, though nothing fancy – not necessary anyway – with no shortage of game or meats. He had also educated his shipmates, with varying success, in the art of serving dinner and pouring the fine wines he had purchased in the Lower Valley Road.
Braddock had been with his wife, with Vincent Flaherty present and able to keep the conversation off purely service matters. On a separate occasion he had entertained the officers commanding the ships of the Downs Squadron, drink flowing as he recounted his exploits, in turn required to listen to those of his guests. The only person yet to dine, one whom he wished most to entertain, was Betsey. Yet the thought of her Aunt Sarah being present for the time a decent proper meal would take to consume was not something he could face.
Breakfast consumed, he was ready to depart for the Naval Yard stables, all four mounts now kept there at his expense. So were his bargemen, with only Peddler reluctant to mount a pony and unhappy the whole way. Thus the road was taken at a walk, lest he fall off, his captain spending the entire time in imagined discussions-cum-arguments with Betsey. These ranged over any number of possibilities, did little good and were in fact possibly futile: with no prior arrangement, she might not be where he hoped to find her.
Leaving the others outside the broken gate, Brazier squeezed through to take up station within the bushes, given the slight possibility Betsey might not be alone, in which case he would have to retreat. The dogs would be the first sign and there was another worry, for they had become familiar and, if they picked up his scent, they would surely flush him out.
He had to pull back when he saw the Reverend Moyle heading in the direction of the main house, his deliberate way progressing, each leading foot carefully planted, an indication that he had perhaps already been at the bottle or was possibly still recovering from the excesses of the previous day
A look at his watch, once Moyle had disappeared, told him the time was approaching when Betsey should pass this way, he once more engaged in mock arguments or imagined comforting in the face of distress. This ceased when he heard a bout of barking and a minute later Betsey appeared. For a moment, Brazier’s courage deserted him, yet he knew he must steel himself. He had an hour, at most, before they would have to part so she could return to the house, and he could not go the whole day in speculation. Assured she was alone, he stepped out to greet her.
Jolted in alarm, she put a hand to her throat. ‘Edward!’
‘Forgive me, but I wanted to see you alone.’
‘I am happy that you do so, but curious as to why you carry such a look of concern.’
He damned himself and quickly altered his features. It was not his intention to immediately raise the reason for calling, that being a subject that would have to be broached with subtlety.
‘Fear of discovery, shall we say. I saw your divine passing a few moments ago.’
‘We have a meeting already arranged for today. Should I be pleased or angry at your impatience?’
It was gentle mockery, not true complaint: an indication of how they had moved on since that first stilted walk. The joshing he would normally have taken as encouraging, but not now. For all his jumbled thoughts on the way, he was at a loss to know how to start the necessary conversation and, to his ear, the words he chose sounded very feeble.
‘Do you think of Jamaica on a cloudy day such as this?’
‘I do so even in bright sunshine.’
He let her lead the conversation, in which she recalled the Caribbean climate and how she had easily taken to it, for abundance made life easy, if somewhat soporific. The tenor of her daily life was reprised and compared to her present circumstances, until he felt his impatience mounting, this to the point where his interruption came out as brusque.
‘And how fares Henry?’
Asking about her brother changed her expression from smiling ease to one of confusion; he was commonly the last subject either of them wished to raise.
‘If you’re asking has he altered in his opposition, the answer must be, not as far as I can see. That said, our connection and hopes are not mentioned so I have reason to believe the mere passage of time is our ally. He will come round to acceptance eventually, I’m sure.’
‘As he did with your late husband?’
Betsey stopped, obliging him to do likewise, to look up at him. ‘You are in a strange mood this morning.’
‘Am I?’ It was a weak response, which would do nothing to get him to where he wanted and needed to go. ‘I’m curious, that’s all, as to how long it took your brother to put aside his objections in that case? I assume you wore him down.’
Betsey emitted a soft chuckle and moved on again. ‘There was nothing gradual about it. I won’t say he affected a complete volte-face from one day to the next, but it was not far off the case. I suspect it followed on from the discovery of what Stephen had inherited. Henry ever has an eye for profit so perhaps he came to see advantage in the union, where he had seen nothing of that sort before.’
Seeking to lighten his own mood, Brazier joked, ‘Then happen I should acquire some plantations myself.’
Her response was pithy. ‘Were I not set on selling, you might have had mine on marriage.’
‘That’s the first time you have spoken so positively in that regard.’
Brazier knew he had got the tone badly wrong.
‘Do I sense reservation on your part that I should?’
‘Nothing could be further from my mind.’
‘Something is on your mind, and I sense troubling you.’
‘Have you come to know me so well?’
That was equivocation, which made him reflect on his lack of pluck. He had attacked and boarded an armed enemy ship with less reserve and more brio than he was displaying now.
‘If you have become prone to reservations, I would be obliged if you would say so.’
That being accompanied by a direct look, he decided he could no longer avoid raising the vital question and he did so with no preamble. ‘What do you know of your brother’s business affairs?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘He’s obviously successful and one wonders how that is managed.’
‘I try to know as little as possible, Edward, and always have, given the gloomy effect it has on Henry. I am aware, though only vaguely, that he is involved in many spheres of activity, but I don’t enquire as to what they are. Anyway, I have been absent for several years, have I not?’
‘And you never have taken an interest, for instance, before any talk of your marriage?’
‘Where is this leading, Edward?’
‘You must have wondered, as I have, at the vehemence with which Henry objected to my arrival, which mirrored his original attitude to your late husband.’
‘It took him by surprise, Edward. If he has not yet come round, I think I can say he has mellowed somewhat.’
‘In Stephen’s case, if I may call him that, Henry manifested similar objections. That could hardly be said to have come as a surprise to him, given you were sweet on each other from childhood and he had known the man you wished to marry for years.’
‘He can be cantankerous.’
‘There I cannot dispute with you.’
‘Is that the reason for your surprise visit, to dispute with me?’
‘No. I seek some explanation for his behaviour.’
‘As I have said, I believe he will soon be reconciled.’
‘Fully so, to the point of being present and welcoming me openly to his house?’
A slow head shake was her response, adding, ‘Given your contrasting natures, I do not see you as ever being friends.’
‘Which prompts me to look for a reason, given I cannot accept either jealousy or what you choose to call his controlling nature. Let me say, if you don’t already know, it troubles me greatly.’
‘Tell me I am wrong, if I say it seems you’re looking for an excuse to—?’
She failed to finish, could not bring herself to say ‘break off’. Brazier, who was horrified at the train of thought he had set in motion, looked at her lovely face, now carrying an expression he had not witnessed before. Betsey was hurt and in no mood to disguise it, which had him reach out and gently take her hand.
‘Don’t assume anything of that nature. If I ask questions, it’s out of concern and affection.’ A deep breath was required before he could continue. ‘Information has come my way that your brother may not be as upright as he appears.’
Hurt turned to confusion. ‘It has been intimated to me, by what I reckon to be a reliable source, he has control of much of the smuggling on this coast.’
‘Edward,’ she said, with a touch of condescension, ‘no one controls smuggling on this coast; it is the occasional occupation of everyone who can sail a boat.’
‘The rumours regarding Henry do not fit with your contention. I have to also say, he is rumoured to have inherited his prominence in the trade, which means some of the same allegations can be laid at the door of your father.’ He jerked her hand to stop her responding, desperate to get out what he wanted to say. ‘And it is also said, your brother is no stranger to the use of violence.’
‘Someone has been having a laugh at your expense, Edward. My brother, outside a glare, would struggle to harm a flea. He abhors violence.’
‘He may have visited that very thing on me. I told you I fell off my horse trying for a fence. I have to say now, I lied about that.’ Her even more confused expression demanded explanation. ‘Call it my pride. I did not want to admit I’d been the victim of a serious assault by a pair of toughs.’
‘I am at a loss to see the connection.’
‘I have a suspicion it may have been carried out on the orders of Henry.’
‘What?’
‘I am informed he has the ability to direct such things and I’ve apparently not been the only victim. There are others who have physically felt his displeasure; indeed it falls on anyone who disputes with him, as I did on my first visit. Is it not a coincidence, at the very least, that the event referred to followed on from my warning he should be careful in his language?’
‘This, Edward, is surely nonsense.’
‘We have little time, Betsey, and I have a tale to tell, so I require you to listen. Please tell me you will do so.’
There was a lengthy pause before she nodded, which had Brazier speaking quickly. He reprised on everything Saoirse had said, caveats included, though he was not fool enough to even hint at the gender of the source. Betsey listened without interruption, though there was no eye contact now. Her head had dropped, leaving him unsure as to how it was being taken. That lasted until she looked up and fixed him with a firm stare.
‘You have no proof of this?’
‘I have not. From what I’m told, Henry is too wily to allow any. Everything he commands is carried out by others.’
‘And how does all this rumour affect your opinion of me?’
‘Not at all,’ was said with as much conviction as he could muster. ‘But I fear this is not a repeat of his behaviour with your late husband.’
‘You seem very sure.’
‘Your brother will seek to put insurmountable barriers in our way, rather than have me as a family relative. I am a serving naval officer, one who carried out the duties of interdiction of smuggling in the Caribbean; that alone would not endear me to him if what I have been told is true. I would find it impossible to stand by and witness the running of contraband here at home and that applies even more to condoning the kind violence to which I suspect I have been exposed. I need to know if what I have been told is true.’
‘But you must know the solution is simple, Edward.’
There was weariness in his response. ‘Please don’t suggest I challenge him.’
‘No, but I shall.’
That he had not anticipated. ‘Would you take my word that such a thing could be unwise?’
‘So I’m to be left with what you impute and to merely accept as fact that what you have been told − by a person who I notice you do not name − and which is supposition based on rumour, should be treated as fact?’
‘I know I ask a great deal.’
‘You do, but when you heard all this did you think I might be aware?’ The tone changed from query to bitter. ‘Or even perhaps complicit?’
He was faced with the one question he had no desire to answer, yet no great imagination would be required to see it as a possibility he would have been forced to consider. Given there was no way of avoidance he could only reply, ‘I doubted it, but I also needed to know.’
‘Perhaps for fear of the answer.’
‘I’m not sure I should oblige such a lack of faith.’
‘If you accept what I have said to you as conceivably true, positions reversed, what would you have done?’
‘I can scare credit what you say about Henry, but to impute the same behaviour to my dear father—’
‘I didn’t set out to offend you, Betsey. I care only for our future.’
‘You say you were in receipt of a beating. I am abound to ask where this took place.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘It would if it was in or hard by the Old Playhouse.’
That was a consequence of being truthful on which he had not reckoned and it required deflection. ‘Hardly the point.’
Seeing her swell up, he knew a rebuke was coming, for he had more or less confirmed her suspicions. ‘While I, Captain Brazier, in the presence of someone who finds it comforting to lie to someone for whom he claims to have feelings, am left to wonder if there is one.’
‘Betsey?’
‘No!’ That came with a hand to push him away, while it was clear she was on the verge of tears. ‘How could you countenance even the notion I would know of what you claim and be part of it?’
‘No one can control their thoughts.’
‘You know your way to the gate; please oblige me by making your way there without me. And, just so you are not inconvenienced by the freedom of your thoughts, I shall not be calling at Quebec House this afternoon.’
Men who had served with Edward Brazier for years knew his moods. The black expression when he rejoined them precluded any jolly enquires as to how he had fared. He mounted Bonnie in silence and kicked her into a trot without a word said, leaving the others to catch up, Peddler never quite managing to do so.
Brazier knew he had made a complete hash of things, so very far from what he had hoped and imagined would be the outcome, to the point where he reckoned his hopes were sunk. He would write, that was all he could do, in the hope that a penned explanation would check the urges that came from a verbal exchange requiring an immediate response.
‘Here I am,’ he said out loud in a cry to the heavens, ‘without a prospect of happiness, without a ship and, very likely, without a career.’
‘What’s that, Capt’n?’ Dutchy Holland called, he being just close enough to hear the voice if not the words.
‘None of your damn business,’ would have carried to the mainmast cap.
‘Hud yer wheest, Dutchy,’ was Cocky Logan’s advice, which might have been taken as good advice, if the man so addressed had understood it.
The Griffin’s Head was not as crowded as it had been the day Edward Brazier first came through Chillenden, but it was busy, it being one of the places Tulkington’s customers came to transact for their smuggled goods, most of it ordered and paid for in advance. These people would fan out all over Kent selling what they acquired at a profit, so high were the taxes being evaded. All operated outside the law, but with little fear: the agency of enforcement was too weak to cover the coast, let alone inland roads, in a society that would not even begin to cooperate, seeing such duties as an evil government imposition.
John Hawker was still in a black mood and, for the first time, the object was his employer. The brains to master things he would grant Henry Tulkington, not even his father had raised the game to such heights, but the man should have trusted him on Spafford. Such reflections brought on the possibility of it extending to other matters, which was enough to have him reprising every recent conversation.
His mind was on such matters when he espied Jaleel Trotter in the doorway, his watery eyes ranging round the room, the suspicion on his thin face obvious. What had taken a long time to arrange previously was being demanded in haste. But with Harry in Tulkington’s hands there was no choice. Spying Hawker in a booth – he was hard to miss – Daisy made his way through the crowded tables to face a held-up hand.
‘Your knife, Daisy. I know you ever has it on you, so afore you get close, take it out for putting on the table.’
‘You won’t be defenceless.’
That was not denied. Another knife and a short billy club were produced and laid out. Seeing those, Daisy Trotter obliged, to have Hawker push everything right to the middle of the table.
‘Other side,’ was demanded with a hand to indicate where Trotter should sit, far enough away from the weapons to render them equally useless. As Daisy slid into the bench seat, Hawker enquired, ‘What’s happened to your nose, mate – been sticking it up somebody’s arse?’
‘What have you done to Harry?’
Hawker chortled. ‘Nothin’, more’s the pity.’
‘I ain’t come to bargain for him, Hawker. It would have to be Dan for that.’
‘Is the useless bugger worth the effort?’
Trotter was not going to acknowledge that as true. He had never seen Harry as worth much effort, but he had cared for him for Dan’s sake. He was less enamoured of him now, after the headbutt and the subsequent embarrassment.
‘Tulkington wants to meet with Spafford; same place, same rules.’
Daisy was sharp enough to pick up the lack of a mister. Hawker had ever been respectful when using his employer’s name. Why not now? Did it hint at a rift, and could he push?
‘Reckon he’d agree if you let Harry go.’
‘Thought you said you was not here to bargain.’
‘Don’t stop me venturing an idea, do it? Happen Dan won’t agree with that not being a condition.’
Hawker leant forward, his expression angry. ‘What makes him think he’s in a position to bargain? Happen I might just chop Harry up then descend on Worth and string the lot of you up from the rafters.’
‘Happy for you to try, John. There’s a couple just a’waiting to put a ball in your head as it comes round the door.’
‘Tulkington wants to talk, an’ don’t go enquiring what about, ’cause I don’t know.’
‘I have to ask Dan.’
‘Tell him, for there’s no askin’. Top of the mill hill at noon tomorrow, with us providing the coach to meet. You’ll be safe on Tulkington’s word, which I wouldn’t gift you if it were me.’
‘Will you bring Harry?’
‘We might.’