Since Finch brought a cordial invitation from the new Lord Wingham to call on him the following day, Adam set off for East Sussex directly after breakfast. It was a pleasant day and an even more pleasant ride. It was also a relief to leave the marsh behind him.
Rye, when he passed through it, was a pretty place of cobbled streets winding up above the river and half-timbered houses with colourful plants tumbling from boxes on nearly every windowsill. Pausing at the Hope Anchor for a small mug of ale and a chance to tidy his appearance before presenting himself at the viscount’s home, Adam learned that like New Romney and Sandwich, Rye no longer had the sea on its doorstep due to centuries of silt and a change in the path of the river.
Audley Court lay five miles further on and inland. The fields around it looked well-tended and prosperous. The house, approached by a short avenue of elm trees, was a neat, flint-walled manor, prettily situated amidst gardens but unostentatious. Adam tried to recall what he knew of Sebastian Audley but could come up with little beyond red hair and an irrepressible sense of humour; not that he imagined the fellow would be cracking jokes now, having buried his father a bare two months ago.
The butler was outside the door the instant Adam brought Hector to a halt and already ordering a footman to take their visitor’s horse to the stables. He said, ‘Good morning, sir. His lordship said to expect you. I trust you had no trouble finding us?’
‘None at all, thank you. Lord Wingham’s directions were extremely clear.’
Entering the house, he relinquished his hat and gloves and glanced around the well-proportioned hall made cheerful with vases of flowers.
‘Lord and Lady Wingham are in the drawing-room, sir. If you will follow me?’
Adam didn’t remember meeting Audley’s wife but supposed he must have done. She’d have been one of those ladies fussing about Belle at the wedding. He hoped he wasn’t going to have to conduct his business in front of her. He already didn’t know how much – or how little – he should say to her husband and didn’t need additional complications.
‘Mr Brandon, my lord,’ announced the butler, ushering Adam into a large, sunny room which managed to appear both elegant and comfortable.
A pretty, brown-haired lady sat near the window, a baby on her lap, and the fellow Adam remembered appeared from behind a newspaper. Both wore unrelieved black.
‘Welcome to Audley Court,’ said Sebastian, striding forward to greet him. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you again.’
‘Thank you for receiving me, my lord,’ replied Adam, shaking the viscount’s hand.
‘No thanks necessary. You remember Cassandra, don’t you?’
‘Of course.’ He offered the viscountess a formal bow. ‘My lady.’
‘You’re being polite, Mr Brandon,’ smiled Cassie. ‘We barely met and it was all so rushed I doubt we exchanged more than two words. However … forgive me for not rising but Theo has only just fallen asleep and, after the past hour, we’d rather not wake him.’
‘My ears are still ringing,’ murmured Sebastian. And to his butler, ‘Tea in here for her ladyship, Bradshaw. And coffee in the library for Mr Brandon and me.’
Bradshaw bowed and retreated.
‘I see congratulations are in order,’ Adam said, gesturing to the baby. ‘But please also accept my condolences on your loss, my lord.’
Sebastian’s expression clouded. He said, ‘We had hoped to have Father with us for some years yet … but are grateful he lived long enough to see his grandson.’ Then, seeming to straighten his shoulders, ‘Enough of that. I know from Max’s letters that everyone at Brandon Lacey is well. And you aren’t here to catch up on family gossip, are you?’
‘No. There is time for both, however.’
‘Well, business first. We’ll decamp to the library and you may tell me how I can help.’ He crossed to his wife, dropped a kiss on her hair and brushed his son’s cheek with one fingertip. ‘You’ll excuse us, love?’
‘Of course.’ She smiled again. ‘I shall see you at luncheon, Mr Brandon.’
He bowed. ‘My lady.’
As soon as the library door closed behind them, Sebastian waved Adam to a chair and reached for the coffee pot. ‘Where do you want to begin?’
‘At the beginning, my lord. Perhaps with what Lord Alveston has already told you?’
‘Fine. But for God’s sake stop my-lording me. I haven’t got used to it yet and, to me, Lord Wingham is still my father. Sebastian will do.’ He handed Adam a cup of coffee and crossed to his desk, returning with a folded paper. ‘Alveston’s letter. Read it for yourself.’
Adam took the letter but instead of opening it, said, ‘I’m happy to take your word.’
‘I’m glad to hear that – but read it anyway. Inevitably, his lordship had his doubts about my … reliability. I’m assuming he said as much to you when he told you to seek me out.’
‘No. Aside from informing me that you’d recently inherited your title, he merely asked if we’d met. Why would his doubts be inevitable?’
‘You don’t know?’
Adam shook his head.
‘That makes you a rarity,’ said Sebastian wryly. ‘Well, then … after university I spent eight years earning the kind of reputation no sane man would want. Lord Alveston is naturally wondering if I’ve grown out of it. Now read the damned letter, will you?’
My dear Wingham, Goddard had written …
Allow me to repeat my condolences on the death of your father and to apologise for taking the liberty of writing to you in respect of another matter at this difficult time.
After a protracted absence, my niece is returning to her home at Dragon Hall near New Romney. I have certain concerns regarding this and shall be sending a young acquaintance of yours, Adam Brandon, with her – ostensibly to act as her escort on the journey from London. In point of fact, Mr Brandon comes with other, additional orders with which he may need help. I refer, of course, to matters protected by the code of silence which I believe still prevails on Romney Marsh.
I come to you due to the proximity of your estate to the area in question. Quite simply, both I and the government department which I serve will be in your debt if you can render Mr Brandon whatever assistance lies in your power. This matter is and should remain confidential. But if and when he calls upon you, you may assure him that he has my permission to divulge information which he considers vital to the success of his mission.
Respectfully Yours,
Alveston
Adam looked up into the viscount’s slightly amused blue eyes and said, ‘He might have told me that last bit to my face.’
‘Didn’t he?’
‘No.’
‘Ah. Possibly because of those doubts I mentioned.’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘He wanted to make some enquiries before he told you to trust me.’
This, Adam realised, sounded all too likely. He said, ‘Doesn’t that offend you?’
‘It might – if I didn’t know why he thought it necessary,’ came the rueful reply. ‘But let’s move on, shall we? I suspect I don’t need to ask why you’re here. Smuggling, is it?’
‘Yes. You’re the second person in two days to work that out.’
‘The other one being?’
‘His niece.’
‘Matthew Edgerton-Foxe’s daughter?’ queried Sebastian thoughtfully. Then, ‘Yes. My father had some acquaintance with that family but I don’t … neither do I recall ever crossing paths with the lady in London.’
‘You’d remember if you had,’ muttered Adam.
‘Pardon me?’
‘Nothing. His lordship told me to keep her in the dark with regard to my enquiries. I’ve no idea how he thought that might be possible since, better than most people, he knows she’s not stupid. Of course she was going to guess.’
Setting down his cup, Sebastian looked at him.
‘Very well. What do you need from me?’
‘Right now? Everything you know about smuggling hereabouts.’
‘That won’t take long. I’ve never had any dealings with it and doubt that anyone in my household has. We don’t buy smuggled goods – at least, not knowingly. With the best will in the world, one can’t always be certain. On the other hand …’
‘What?’ asked Adam when he showed no sign of continuing.
‘I’ll wager a good many of my tenants are involved because they can make a month’s wages in a night. Small boats bringing cargo ashore and muscular fellows carrying it inland; farmers who’ll look the other way when their plough horses are ‘borrowed’ for a night; and innkeepers who leave a light at an attic window and the cellar door unlocked.’ Sebastian shrugged slightly. ‘Like Miss Edgerton-Foxe, I grew up here … so I’ve a fair idea of how smuggling works. But knowing, beyond any shadow of doubt, who’s doing it is another matter entirely.’
‘Because no one talks? Quite. But I’ve got to find a starting point somehow.’
After a few moments’ consideration, Sebastian said slowly, ‘There’s a Riding Officer in Rye, another in Hythe and one at either Dymchurch or New Romney – I don’t know which. If Alveston mentioned them, he probably called them Preventives or Revenue men.’
Adam nodded. ‘He told me not to be seen talking to them.’
‘Sound advice. Did he also tell you that, if one had to name the worst job in the world, the role of Riding Officer would qualify?’
‘No. What’s so terrible about it?’
‘They are all local men … so everyone knows who they are and despises them. And as if that isn’t bad enough, the poor fellows have wide areas to patrol and no help doing it, so on the rare occasions they actually see a cargo being landed, there’s nothing they can do about it. Support, if there is any, is always miles away, so it doesn’t arrive in time to be useful. If the Riding Officer is rash enough to go in single-handed, he risks a beating – or worse. Personally, I can’t think of a more miserable life than riding the coast alone at night and facing neighbours who hate you by day. Frankly, for fifty pounds a year and a horse to care for out of that, I’m amazed anyone does it.’
‘Put like that, so am I.’ Adam fell silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘All right. Those men are my only chance of getting a name … but I can’t seek them out. Can you?’
Sebastian drew a long breath. ‘Perhaps. I can certainly try. But not, I think, by going to them. The best option might be summoning them here to me.’
Adam sat up. ‘If you do that, I can speak with them myself. And if I could meet all three at the same time, it would be more productive all round. Might that be possible?’
‘I don’t see why not – though it will take a few days to arrange. Jeavons, the Riding Officer in Rye, will be able to tell me who his colleagues are and where they live. After that, it will be a matter of settling on a day. I’ll let you know when I have it.’
‘Thank you. That would be a great help.’
‘It doesn’t sound so to me.’ He paused and then said mildly, ‘I am getting the impression that you have a plan for how you intend to approach this. Have you?’
‘I have an idea, yes. But I’ll keep it to myself until I’ve given it sufficient thought.’
‘Fair enough. Is there anything else I can do for you?’
‘Educate me about tides and the phases of the moon,’ replied Adam promptly.
Sebastian blinked. ‘Well, then. There are roughly eight and a half hours between high and low water. And the moon is currently on the wane. I’d guess there’s roughly a week before it is dark. Do I take it you’re thinking of some night-time reconnoitring?’
‘I am if I can work out how to get out of and back into the Port Arms without anyone knowing. But at present, that looks somewhere between difficult and impossible.’
‘Couldn’t you--?’ Sebastian stopped on note of laughter. ‘No. If you stayed at Dragon Hall with a young, unmarried lady, the old biddies of the district would have you down the aisle before you could blink. Let’s see. You can stay here with us, if --’
‘No. I mean – it’s good of you to offer. But word would get around and, if our acquaintance became generally known, comings and goings here might be watched and any chance of your helping me would be wiped out.’
‘Well, we can’t have that, can we? What about an isolated cottage? My land extends eastwards as far as the Rother … but that might be too far away from your centre of operations, not to mention being on the wrong side of the river. And you’d have to fend for yourself, of course.’
‘I’ve a manservant – so I daresay we’d manage. But the distance might create as many problems as it solves. As yet, I don’t know the area well enough to say.’
‘Well, leave it with me and I’ll see what I can come up with.’ Sebastian stood up. ‘Join Cassandra and me for luncheon. If anything else occurs, we can discuss it later.’
Adam also rose. ‘That’s kind of you. But wouldn’t Lady Wingham prefer --?’
‘No. Like me, she’ll be glad of a fresh face and new conversation. During these first weeks, we’ve closed ourselves off from the outside world. Not ready for it yet.’
‘No. I recall it being the same with us when we lost my father. But it does get easier.’
‘So everyone tells me. Come and eat.’
They found Cassie in the dining parlour, investigating the array of chafing dishes on the sideboard. Tossing a smile over her shoulder, she said, 'I hope you don’t mind being informal, Mr Brandon.’
‘Not at all, my lady.’
‘Excellent idea,’ said Sebastian, strolling over to catch her in one arm and kiss her.
‘And I stopped Bradshaw bringing a letter from the Dower House with your coffee.’
He groaned. ‘Not another one. What is it this time?’
‘Do you really think I’d open it?’
‘No. I just wish you would.’ And to Adam, ‘It’s from my eldest sister with whom it cannot be said that I get on – which is why she lives in the Dower House rather than here. It’s in a good state of repair and perfectly comfortable. But every other day she sends a new complaint. If I go over there myself, I’m likely to throttle her.’
‘Which is why you won’t,’ said Cassie calmly. ‘Come and help yourself, Mr Brandon, while Sebastian pours you a glass of wine. And then you can give me the latest news of Arabella and Julian. We enjoyed each other’s company during Yule at Sarre Park.’
Over a salmon terrine, chicken fricassee and tiny lamb cutlets in mint sauce, Adam answered questions about his family and asked some of his own about Romney sheep. It wasn’t until the syllabub was on the table that Dragon Hall and the name of its mistress was mentioned; and when they were, Cassie immediately said, ‘Camilla Edgerton-Foxe? But I --’
‘Camilla?’ spluttered Adam, caught in the act of swallowing a slice of peach. And quickly clearing his throat, ‘Forgive me. I interrupted you.’
‘Don’t apologise. I was merely about to say that I know her – though not especially well. But judging by your reaction, I’d guess that everyone is still calling her Millie?’
‘Yes. Her uncle, her grandmother – even her household staff.’
‘Well, I can’t say too much about that. With the exception of Sebastian, everyone calls me Cassie. I used not to like it very much but now I rather enjoy Sebastian being the only one to use my full name. Perhaps Miss Edgerton-Foxe will find the same one day.’
‘How do you know her?’ asked Sebastian.
‘The usual way. When I made my come-out she was in her second Season so we met at all the same parties. Neither of us accepted an offer that year and I expected to see her again the following one – the year you and I met, Sebastian. Only she wasn’t there, of course, due to the tragedy.’
Sebastian’s ‘Tragedy?’ clashed with Adam saying, ‘Her parents?’
‘You know about that?’
‘I know they died in an accident,’ said Adam. ‘I don’t know the details.’
‘Their carriage slid off the road into the sea during a particularly severe storm,’ Cassie told him simply. ‘It was a high tide. No one survived.’
There was a brief silence. But finally Sebastian said, ‘That puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?’
She stretched out her hand to cover his. ‘Yes. It does, rather.’ And differently, to Adam, ‘Living at Dragon Hall with no one but servants must be lonely. Sebastian and I aren’t receiving or visiting at present … but please tell Miss Edgerton-Foxe that, if she cared to call, I’d be happy to renew our acquaintance.’ And after a moment’s thought, ‘If necessary, assure her that Lord Staplehurst’s name will not be mentioned.’
‘Why would she think it might be – or even care?’ asked Sebastian.
‘Because she broke off her engagement to him last year and is probably tired of people asking her why.’ Cassie looked at Adam. ‘You didn’t know?’
‘I knew about the engagement but not the gentleman’s name.’
‘I didn’t know about either one,’ remarked Sebastian, ‘but then I don’t take much interest in such things. Staplehurst, though? I don’t know him well … but he’s an earl and possessed of the sort of looks that all the ladies sigh over.’
‘Not all of them,’ murmured his wife. ‘At least half were busy sighing over you.’
‘Thank you.’ He grinned at her. ‘So why did Miss Edgerton-Foxe break it off?’
‘She didn’t say. She left it to Staplehurst and he said it was due to a serious difference of opinion.’ Cassie hesitated and then added, ‘But from time to time there’ve been whispers about him over the tea-cups. Nothing definite … just the usual vague rumours.’
‘Saying what?’ It was Adam who asked – less because he was interested in society gossip than because Goddard and the others had intimated that the broken betrothal had left Miss Edgerton-Foxe with invisible scars. ‘Or shouldn’t I ask?’
‘Your choice, Cassandra,’ shrugged Sebastian when she hesitated again. ‘I know you don’t like scandal-mongering but I think you can rely on Adam’s discretion.’
She drew a long breath and then nodded.
‘Very well. There were murmurs about a long-standing affair with a married woman who he won’t – or can’t – give up. I never heard anyone name her though I suspected that some of those doing the murmuring – Dolly Cavendish for one – could have done. But the worst of it is that there was also mention of children.’
Sebastian winced. ‘If Miss Edgerton-Foxe heard that no wonder she threw him over.’
‘Only if she was sure it was true,’ argued Cassie. ‘And what I remember of her tells me that she wouldn’t have taken it on hearsay. She’d have wanted facts. And the only way she could get them would be by confronting Lord Staplehurst directly.’
‘You think she’d actually do that?’
‘Yes,’ said Adam before he could stop himself. ‘It’s exactly what she would do.’
‘I think so, too,’ nodded Cassie. ‘Which means that Staplehurst admitted it … or that he lied but failed to be convincing … either of which suggest that it’s true since she ended their engagement.’
‘Good for her,’ grunted Sebastian, re-filling Adam’s glass. ‘I like her already.’
The conversation moved on to Adam’s time in Paris and then to the letters full of helpful advice on land management that Max wrote in response to Sebastian’s questions. But after a pleasant hour, Adam prepared to take his leave, thanking Cassie for her hospitality and promising to await word from Sebastian regarding both the Riding Officers and the possibility of alternative accommodation.
Seeing him off in the stable-yard, Sebastian said, ‘On another occasion, perhaps we could find time for some swordplay?’
‘We could – though I don’t generally use foils,’ came the blunt reply.
‘So Max has told me. And we have a sword to two lying about. What do you say?’
‘That I could use the practice.’
‘Excellent.’ Sebastian patted Hector’s flank. ‘Nice horse, by the way. Let me know if you ever think of selling him.’
‘He isn’t mine. And if he was, I wouldn’t. Sell him, I mean.’
‘I can’t blame you for that. Safe ride back, Adam. I’ll be in touch.’
Adam set off for New Romney reflecting on the ramifications of what Lady Wingham had said. He realised they told him a great deal about Camilla Edgerton-Foxe. Because, if she had loved this fellow, Staplehurst … if she’d found out that he had a mistress he couldn’t marry but had no intention of giving up … a mistress, moreover, with whom he had children … well, if Camilla had found out that those things were true, she was undoubtedly well shut of the man. But it wasn’t surprising that the experience had left her with a very jaundiced view of the male sex.