The Contraband Shore

by David Donachie

  ‘Your father?’

  ‘If I was to say Henry is his true heir, would that suffice? Though he had none of my brother’s obsessions with his health and was a more stalwart creature altogether. My papa was kind in his way, but so taken up with his affairs and projections that he barely ever spent time with us. He was extremely hard on my brother, which perhaps explains his present behaviour. Henry was sent away to school, which I suspect he hated.’

  She fell silent in contemplation. Betsey should have gone on to describe her mother, but that did not happen, which he found strange. Was it because he might ask that she changed the subject abruptly?

  ‘You must stop me blathering.’

  ‘Why would I, when I enjoy it?’

  ‘You have listened to me talk for an age, yet have not once referred to your own family or upbringing, and I am curious.’

  A positive sign, to which he responded in the only way he could. An only child, son of a naval surgeon, often away at sea though, he had since been informed, much respected professionally. This was why he had been taken onto the books of the ship of the line commanded by the then Captain Pollock. Prior to that he had been raised by his mother, whose memory he revered, with both parents now deceased.

  ‘There was schooling prior to going aboard, of course, so I can stab at Latin and Greek, but it was mathematics that counted, for that subject is the very bedrock of naval service. If you struggle as an officer with numbers, you will struggle to properly navigate and keep your logs. It never does to be fully at the mercy of the ship’s master, so you must be able to check his calculations. Likewise a clerk handling your logs.’

  As it had been with slavery, his mind was partly elsewhere in reaction to his own recollections, in his cabin as Lieutenant Schomberg demanded he convene a court martial to clear his name of unwarranted accusations made against him by Prince William. He was quick to put that out of his thoughts. Best to talk of the joys and miseries of being a midshipman, which he went on to do.

  ‘I have already alluded to my lack of – what shall I call it? – discretion, in the manner of my calling here.’

  ‘I reckoned it bold in alacrity, sir,’ she replied, with a wry twist of the lips. ‘Nothing has occurred to change that opinion.’

  ‘Then I must tell you where I learnt it. You cannot imagine life in a mids’ berth on a man-o’-war, and I would hesitate to seek to fully enlighten you.’

  ‘Surely it is no worse than conditions on any ship, for instance the vessels on which I sailed on the triangular passage?’

  No was his immediate, unspoken thought; the navy was very different. How do you describe an existence surrounded by endemic bullying; unwarranted and unwanted sexual advances; finding your possessions, so lovingly packed in your brand-new sea chest by your mother, stolen and with no redress possible? There were many who succumbed to such and left the service.

  Edward Brazier had been a fighter at school and he held to that one from the first day aboard, earning, with his dark looks, black hair and ferocious temper the soubriquet of ‘The Turk’. Most of those canings Admiral Pollock had referred to came from him fighting those who sought to oppress him. What he gave her by way of explanation was much filleted and full of happier memories.

  ‘And now you are a full post captain.’

  ‘Suffice to say, I have been favoured by a degree of luck.’

  ‘Your luck was the talk of the island.’

  ‘I meant prior to that, though I do not deny the good fortune of the Santa Clara. I have been blessed enough to have been in action many times and, given they were generally successful, I have risen in the service at a rate much faster than many who, like me, lack influence where it counts.’

  ‘Captain Edward Brazier,’ she said. ‘I like the sound.’

  ‘Ah, I do have a Christian name.’

  Her voice dropped to a low timbre. ‘You enquired earlier if I would call you by that name?’

  ‘And?’

  ‘You must know what such familiarity implies?’ There was no need to reply to the question with anything other than a penetrating look. ‘It speaks of some kind of understanding, which is a step full of meaning and could leave me a hostage to fortune.’

  ‘I feel inclined to quote the Bard and refer to that commodity being taken at the flood.’

  The pealing laugh was delightful; it was bound to upset Aunt Sarah, which made it doubly a thing to enjoy. ‘Quoting Shakespeare. Are you erudite as well as lucky and brave?’

  It was his turn to laugh. ‘I am certainly not a person inclined to bat away flattery.’

  The voice was even quieter as she spoke again. ‘If I do agree to call you Edward, it can for the present only be in private and when it cannot be overheard by anyone. You must recall my present estate and the need to give no room to malicious tongues.’

  ‘Then it is probably best if I say to you that I am bent on seeking your hand in marriage. I know there are better and more proper forms of uttering such a proposal, but I need to know for my own sake if my intentions are not going to be rebuffed. I add that I am aware of the constraints on your ability to respond, but I have calculated the time it has been since the unfortunate demise of your husband.’

  ‘You would not expect me to accept here and now?’

  ‘I can think of no reason not to.’

  ‘Allow me a little time, Edward.’

  ‘If I must, of course.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  He rode out of Cottington Court in fine fettle, near certain his proposal, even if it had not been openly acknowledged, was going to be accepted. There were particulars to be observed and they would take a while, but as of this moment time was a commodity he had in abundance. Of course, he could be called back to service at any moment and he had to hope in that event Betsey would understand. But the chances of a ship were slim: the nation was at peace and the Royal Navy had been run down accordingly.

  What he left behind was not so blissful; Henry Tulkington, who had avoided Brazier on his return from the walk, was still furious at the way he had been spoken to. No one else in the locality would have dared, yet here was this stranger treating him as if he was of no account. He was also determined to challenge his sister as soon as he was gone and it was not a tranquil exchange, made worse by the way Aunt Sarah backed up the brother so forcibly.

  ‘You hardly know the fellow, Elisabeth.’

  That she had to admit was true; she had met him on a dozen or so occasions, yes, but today was the only time in which their talk had been in any way private and not carried out under the public gaze. Given that, her reply was slightly defensive.

  ‘I intend that I should get to know him better – and you too, Aunt.’

  Betsey deliberately looked at Henry as she uttered those words, the implication plain: he was included. He was stood with a shawl around his shoulders which, given his piqued expression, made him appear like some old crone. The look he gave her said in no uncertain terms he was not in any way interested in getting to know Brazier better, quite the reverse.

  ‘I would like to know how far your folly has taken you.’

  ‘Folly!’

  ‘It is nothing less. A near stranger to you, as Aunt Sarah says, whom you met on a few occasions in Jamaica, and one who has the audacity to turn up at our house—’

  ‘He was invited Henry. I invited him.’

  ‘I refer not to his presence, but his effrontery. I found his manner insufferable.’

  ‘I daresay he felt the same about yours, and I would remind you that you have no say in the matter of whom I meet and converse with, or for that matter whom I like or dislike.’

  ‘As your elder brother I have responsibility to see you do not do anything you might later regret.’ Henry looked away, breaking eye contact, his voice wheedling and his manner that of a person deeply hurt. ‘Not that your Brazier fellow even came close to acknowledging that my opinion counted for anything. I daresay he is accustomed to berating the common seaman and lacks the
discernment required for polite society. Even now, as I think of the words he used, I shudder at the thought of his clear intentions.’

  ‘Is it not that you’re feeling chilled?’

  ‘Elisabeth,’ Aunt Sarah interjected, ‘attempts at levity will not aid matters.’

  ‘Nor will it help to impugn Captain Brazier’s intentions.’

  ‘At least,’ Henry said, with a direct stare and growl meant to appear fierce, ‘tempted as I was, I didn’t stoop to threatening him.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Eye contact was lost again. ‘I made reference to his being a serving officer, who could be off to sea at the drop of a hat and for months if not years, which would leave you all alone, not that he would care. I made it plain that you are not some trophy to be taken up as an ornament. His response was a clear warning that speaking in such a way, which I took to be my right, I risked being called out to provide satisfaction.’

  Betsey was genuinely shocked. ‘You surely don’t mean he challenged you to a duel?’

  ‘Not in his exact words. He is easily insulted, I suspect; touchy in his character.’ Henry looked her in the eye again, to drive home his point. ‘Pistols or swords at dawn was implied and we both know what the result would be, from one who seemingly would stoop to kill a member of your own family to achieve his ends. Is that the sort of ruffian with whom you are happy to consort?’

  ‘Consort? So far I have not done anything but share a pleasant interlude and a walk with a man whose company I enjoy.’

  Aunt Sarah cut in again, her tone more pleading than hectoring. ‘It is a short step from that to a greater degree of familiarity, which, even though I could not hear the words you exchanged, led me to believe was taking place.’

  ‘I am minded to forbid this, Elisabeth.’

  ‘While I will remind you I no longer require your permission to do anything, and nor do I need to come to you for money, Henry. I have my own.’

  ‘But I do reserve the right to say who can and who cannot enter my house. I am quite prepared to issue an instruction that Captain Brazier is not to be admitted onto my property.’

  ‘And when did you arrive at that notion?’

  ‘At this very moment.’

  Betsey wanted to shout liar but held her anger in check, to answer calmly, although it sounded forced even in her own ears. ‘Then I shall arrange to meet him elsewhere.’

  The air of self-satisfaction in the response was infuriating, underlying his threat was no spontaneous notion. ‘Then it best be close by. I own every horse in the stables, likewise the carriages. They are for your use only if I can be sure it is not to meet that man.’

  ‘You would confine me to Cottington Court?’

  ‘It would be for your own sake, Elisabeth,’ Aunt Sarah pleaded. ‘Henry means well.’

  Betsey pushed past her brother, emitting a reply, made more in sorrow than anger. ‘How can you say that when you know it is the very opposite of the truth?’

  Stood in the doorway she spun to address Henry again. ‘I wonder what people will say, brother, when they see me walking to Deal like some common churl. They’re bound to ask what is amiss and I will be happy to tell them that I am going to visit, against your express wishes, a certain Captain Brazier in Lower Deal. No great wit will be required to deduce from that why I would be so determined.’

  For the second time that day the house reverberated to the sound of a slammed door.

  The journey back to the Three Kings was tediously slow. Brazier found himself behind a herd of cattle being driven, he was told by the herder, towards the Deal slaughterhouse. There they would be slain, butchered, the majority salted and packed in barrels, doubtless for sale to the ships taking on stores. He was obliged to hang back to avoid being totally enveloped in the cloud of dust created, but at least the time could be employed in the making of some decisions.

  To stay where he was made no sense, when he would be in Deal for some time. Whatever bill Garlick presented to him he could afford but it was a poor use of funds. Matters with Betsey could not be rushed: the rituals of proper courtship must be outwardly observed and he was determined to give no one an excuse to question his behaviour, which applied most to her brother.

  It would be better to rent a house and to do that he required his needs to be met by at least one servant. Anyone local he would not know, while he envisaged two very good reasons not to employ such people. First they might gossip, and the notion of his comings and goings, as well as those whom he entertained, being talked about in the gin shops and taverns of the town was not to be contemplated.

  Added to that, complete trust was necessary – a hard thing to judge in any person you did not know intimately. All he interviewed would claim saintliness in that area, but experience told him the people who protested their honesty with the greatest vehemence were often the most light-fingered; besides, the alternative was much more attractive.

  The men who had served him aboard HMS Diomede had also been discharged and might be still unemployed. He had the means to contact those who would be keen to serve with him again, not that in such an event it was necessary. At the first hint of a new conflict, with ships of war being commissioned, he would surely be in line for a command. Then the nautical grapevine would be activated.

  At once, country roads would then be full of volunteers making their way to whatever port the captain they favoured had berthed his ship, with no fear of press gangs so early in an outbreak, the more likely threat coming from recruiting parties seeking to get them drunk and aboard other vessels.

  Any house would have to be of a size in which he could entertain, and not just Betsey Langridge and her ever-present chaperone. There was Admiral Braddock, who had already intimated he would have Brazier to dinner and that must be reciprocated. Other naval officers of equal or lesser rank resided in Deal and good manners and tradition obliged him to invite them to dine as well. It would be possible to get Admiral Pollock over from Adisham for any gathering of blue coats, which would ease his isolation.

  It was a stiff naval officer who dismounted at the Three Kings, for he had been too long in the saddle this day. Ben was out front and he requested the lad take Bonnie back to the Naval Yard, with Brazier hoisting him astride the beast, ignoring the lad’s protests.

  ‘Never mind Mr Garlick, young ’un. I will tell him I insisted you must ride her and he will not argue with me.’

  ‘Hope my mates see me, your honour,’ he called gaily as he trotted away. ‘It’ll make them right green.’

  Garlick was in his usual spot and once more the owner showed what Brazier thought to be excessive inquisitiveness. He had sought directions, so his destination could be no mystery. As before it was ignored in favour of instructions that a bath should be provided and his dust-covered uniform required to be sponged and pressed.

  ‘And dinner, Captain?’

  ‘After the bath.’ The lack of a bathing machine belonging to the hotel already established, Brazier added, ‘While that is being prepared, I require a number of towels and a gown to wear down to the seashore.’

  Garlick visibly shuddered, a reaction to which Brazier was well accustomed. All of his crews had reckoned him deranged to go swimming in the sea and risk not just drowning, but seizure by some many-tentacled or sabre-toothed creature of the deep. Sailors might bathe in a sail slung over the side, but they remained sure that just below the surface of the water lay any number of threats to their lives – and what they could not witness, they were prone to imagine.

  In his room, divested of his clothes, he donned a pair of cotton ducks. At sea, he plunged naked, but that would not serve on an open beach in sight of humanity of both sexes.

  ‘At least,’ he said to himself, ‘I have no need to fear a shark.’

  In which he was utterly correct. Such a creature would never have borne the temperature of the water, indeed Brazier was unsure if he could himself, for it was still winter cold, icy enough on entry to make him gasp.
Once he was fully immersed and moving, that eased, as did those aches he had garnered in the saddle. To then, still chilled, lower himself into a bathtub full of hot water was bliss indeed and a very strong aid to contemplation of a happy future.

  Betsey Langridge, from her bedroom window, saw her brother depart in the company of his coachman and postilion, her lips pursed at the thought of what he had said about confining her, which would not occur. It was an empty threat; Henry had never been physical in that way. Indeed, with that twelve-year gap between them he had always been something of a distant and indifferent presence in her life, until it had become plain she intended to wed Stephen Langridge.

  He had objected quite strongly and he had proved obdurate for many a month. Yet he had come round eventually, to provide her a fitting ceremony in St Saviour’s, the quality folk of Kent, from the Lord Lieutenant down, invited to Cottington Court to toast the couple and wish them God’s Speed to their new life in the West Indies.

  Joshua Moyle had even been sober throughout the ceremony, which Betsey put down to the restrictions placed on him by his wife. He had, of course and as usual, reverted to type at the subsequent feast and got thoroughly drunk.

  Her mind inevitably turned to Edward Brazier. Would Henry come round in the same manner once he saw how determined she was? Unavoidably this led to her examining her own feelings, naturally wondering if it had been wise to be so openly encouraging. She did, in reality, hardly know him, so perhaps it would have been better to hold back on his desire that she use his Christian name. But then, it had felt right at the moment of saying it.

  She could not avoid conjuring up an image of him as a darkly handsome suitor. That acknowledged, Betsey reminded herself it was not only his appearance she admired: it was his whole presence, especially his voice, so deep and warm. It would be less so on a quarterdeck, no doubt brisk and commanding; that too stood in the credit column.