by Jo Beverley
Conventional, happy, and married by now.
“He’s probably still in the breakfast parlor,” Aunt Miriam said, kneading away at a mound of dough. “I don’t know what hour he returned home last night, or what he’d been up to. Young men will burn the candles, won’t they?” she added with a wink.
Susan resisted an urge to state unwelcome truths, and went toward the front of the house hoping for a word in private with her brother. Aunt Miriam snared Amelia to help in the kitchen, which got rid of one problem, but when she entered the sun-filled breakfast room she found their cousin Henry keeping David company.
All the true Kerslakes tended to a comfortable roundness, and at twenty-eight Henry was developing a prosperous stomach. He had his hands clasped over it now as he watched David finish his breakfast and lectured him about the importance of the Corn Laws.
At the sight of Susan, however, he stood, beaming. “Now this is a treat!” He came around the table to take her hands and kiss her cheek. “We don’t see enough of you, cousin.”
Truly, everyone here was impossibly kind. She always felt like a thistle in a flower bed. David, despite being so like her, bloomed carelessly along with the rest.
She sat at the table, looking at the evidence of his hearty breakfast. “Anyone would think you actually worked for your living, love.”
She saw evidence of tiredness, but none of fighting. He seemed his usual lighthearted self, thank the Lord. Everything was all right.
He flashed her a look from subtle blue-gray eyes. Apart from the eyes they’d been very alike when young, with their father’s square chin and their mother’s golden brown hair. By now, however, he’d grown heavier bones and six more inches of height, and a great deal of muscle.
She had the disconcerting concern of how it would go if he and Con got into a fight. David had inches and breadth on Con, but something warned her that Con might win.
“Aren’t you supposed to be working, too?” he asked, forking the last piece of fried bread into his mouth.
“I am. I’m playing sheepdog. A message was sent commanding your presence up at the Crag.”
“And you’ve come to nip me up there? Is the earl in such a hurry?”
“It’s almost noon. And I don’t know about hurry, but he’s thorough. Or rather, his very efficient secretary is. He’s going through everything like a miser hunting for a penny.”
It was a warning. There shouldn’t be anything in the Wyvern papers about smuggling operations, but it was possible.
“Right and proper thing to do,” Henry said. “Take over the reins. See what’s what. It’s about time there was some order and decorum up there. He’ll want your records and advice, Davy, and if you’re ordered up there, up there you should be!”
David poured himself another cup of coffee and leaned back, mischief in his eyes. “If he wanted instant service, he should have sent warning of his arrival.”
As he sipped from his cup, those smiling eyes slid to Susan carrying a question. Trouble?
She smiled a little to show that there wasn’t. Which was true. Con wasn’t throwing a fit over the smuggling run, which was all David would care about. She needed to talk to him, though, and Henry was stuck in his chair like a burr in a long-haired dog.
So she gossiped about the earl, and entered into aimless speculation with Henry on the effect on the neighborhood. Again, she passed on Con’s message that he wasn’t going to make this his principal residence.
“Shame, that,” Henry said. “Perhaps he’ll change his mind if we show him what a pleasant little community we have here.”
David’s brows and lips twitched in a humorous wince. There was nothing he wanted less than an earl in residence at the Crag. Even a friendly one had to be constantly thought of and pacified. “You’ll have to see if Amelia can steal his heart, Henry. That would tie him here.”
Henry reddened. “Marry her off to a mad Earl of Wyvern? I’ll know the man a great deal better before I’ll countenance that, and I’ll go odds Father will feel the same way.”
“Then if he’s a handsome devil, perhaps we shouldn’t encourage him to hang around.”
Henry looked at Susan. “Is he a handsome devil?”
It wasn’t hard to play her part. “I’m afraid so.”
He pushed to his feet. “I need to talk to Father about this.”
He paused however, to lecture David. “Obey orders and get up there, Davy. It’s a nice little post you have, and if the earl isn’t going to be in residence, an easy job with local influence. You don’t want to lose it.”
“How true.” David was still lounging, however.
“You may think now that you do well enough as you are,” Henry said with exasperation, “but one day you’ll want to marry and set up your own establishment. That takes money. You need your employment.”
“You’re completely right, Henry,” David said, eyes twinkling. “I’ll just finish my coffee and be off.”
Henry sighed and left to consult with Sir Nathaniel. Susan looked at her brother and suppressed laughter. She wouldn’t hurt Henry by letting him hear them laughing at him, but David’s prospects in life no longer depended on his post, and anyone aware of what was going on around them would know it.
The tendency to laughter faded. She’d rather David was simply an earl’s estate manager.
“Everything went smoothly last night?” she asked quietly. As usual, there was no certain privacy here.
“Not exactly,” he said, abruptly sober. “I’ll tell you later.”
Her stomach clenched. She chose her words carefully. “I met Lieutenant Gifford on the way here. He was on his way to Dragon’s Cove looking for evidence of a run coming in there last night.”
David drank the rest of his coffee. “I doubt he’ll find anything.”
So that wasn’t the problem. She began to imagine different kinds of disasters.
“So what’s the new earl really like?” he asked.
“Not mad.” He needed a warning about the sort of man Con was now. “Strong,” she said. “He was a captain in the army. He fought at Waterloo.” Reluctantly, the word escaped. “Unforgiving.”
Her brother became thoughtful. “You knew him when he was here, didn’t you? In 1805.”
She hastily picked up a piece of bread and nibbled it. What had David heard? The last thing she needed was antagonism between David and Con over her, but she equally didn’t want to confess to David how badly she’d behaved.
“Yes, I knew him,” she said. “We’re the same age.”
“Tom Bridgelow said something last night. About Mel thinking you two were getting too close, and warning him off.”
“There was nothing to it,” she said, trying to make it sound absurd. “We met here and there and were friends of a sort. He was only here two weeks.”
“According to Tom once Mel had said his piece you and he weren’t seen together again.”
“Not surprising. No one would want Mel angry with them. A rare example of paternal concern.”
“He kept an eye on us.” Before Susan could ask what he meant, he added, “Shame there was nothing between you. It would be useful now if you were on close terms.”
“It was eleven years ago, David, and we’ve not so much as exchanged a letter!”
He shrugged. “Just a thought.” He pushed back from the table and stood, sober and thoughtful enough to please Henry, if he’d been here to see it. Susan suddenly saw a similarity between David and Con, an aura that came of being a leader, of carrying the lives and welfare of many on his shoulders.
It made her shiver. That way lay glory, but that way lay death, too. Then she saw him wince and favor a leg as he moved from the table.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered.
“Got into a fight,” he said in a normal voice. “Lots of bruises, but no real damage, so don’t fuss. I’ll get my record books and we can be off up to prostrate ourselves before the demanding earl.” He stopped to yawn, wincing aga
in as he stretched. “I hope his questions aren’t too deep or difficult, though. I’ve only had four hours’ sleep.”
Susan waited for him in the kitchen, smothering her anxiety with a hot bun running with butter, and chatting with her aunt about Con.
“A lovely lad,” Aunt Miriam said. “Full of energy but kind with it. George,” she added, pouring cups of tea all around. “But he preferred to be called something else. Ah yes, Con.”
She passed Susan a cup and saucer, a twinkle in her eye. “I suspect he’s grown into a handsome man.”
Susan hadn’t asked for the tea, but she took a fortifying gulp. “Yes, he has.” As a defense against that hopeful twinkle, she added, “He’s betrothed to a nobleman’s daughter.”
Aunt Miriam pulled a face. “Ah, well. I remembered that you met him here and there when you were studying your insects. A shared interest is always nice.”
“I doubt he’s much interested in entomology anymore.” Susan finished her tea, astonished by the complete lack of suspicion in her aunt’s manner. Had she never thought it dubious that her almost-daughter was out with a young man, no chaperon in sight?
Sometimes it seemed to her that her manor family lived inside a soap bubble, disconnected from the reality of the Crag, Dragon’s Cove, smuggling, or anything less than idyllic.
It must be lovely.
But she knew the notion of cozy complacency was an illusion. Four children had died in this house, three of Aunt Miriam’s and one of Lady Belle’s, and many members of previous generations. Aunt Miriam knew all about the less pleasant aspects of life.
Susan had been ten when her second brother had arrived at the manor. She’d been too young to question David’s birth, but little Sammy had required explanation.
The truth had driven her to help take care of the frail baby, but had also stirred dreams and longings. She only vaguely knew Mel Clyst and Lady Belle, since none of the children of the manor were encouraged to go over to the village of Dragon’s Cove.
But once she knew that Mel and Belle were her parents, her real parents, they fascinated her.
She’d fought to keep Sammy alive for his own sake, but perhaps as well she’d hoped to prove worthy of her parents’ attention. She’d been heartbroken when the baby gave up the fight at six weeks, and guilt-struck as well.
She vividly remembered Lady Belle and Mel Clyst coming to the manor to look at the waxen body. Though she’d hovered nearby, Lady Belle—lush, queenly, and richly dressed—had paid her no attention. She’d looked at the baby as if he were an exhibit in a glass case.
Melchisedeck Clyst, who despite being a tavernkeeper had been dressed as well as Uncle Nathaniel, had seemed to feel something. He’d touched the swaddled child, and glanced at Susan in a way that might have been an acknowledgment. But no more than that.
They’d gone with the coffin to the church for the service, and then to the graveyard to see the small box settled in the Kerslake plot. To Susan, weeping, it had seemed that Lady Belle was profoundly bored.
From that day on she had put aside all hope that her true parents would clasp her to their bosoms. She didn’t know why she had wanted it when she’d had the love of Aunt Miriam, Sir Nathaniel, her brother, and her cousins.
But from that day on she’d also longed to belong.
Sometimes she wondered if she’d simply needed to be in a position where Lady Belle would be forced to acknowledge her existence.
When David came into the kitchen and snitched a bun despite just having finished that huge breakfast, Susan rose and impulsively gave her aunt a hug. Her aunt hugged her back, but with a question in her eyes. Susan could see that she was touched, though, and was glad she’d done it. Had she ever shown her aunt and uncle how grateful she was for what they’d done for them?
“Is everything all right, Susan?” Aunt Miriam asked, holding on to her hand for a moment.
Susan felt a brief urge to burst into wild laughter and tears, but she said, “Yes, of course. Though the earl being at the Crag is going to bring changes. I don’t think I want to stay there as housekeeper much longer.”
“It always was a temporary thing, love, and it’ll be grand to have you back here again.”
Susan smiled, but she knew she couldn’t do it. She’d taken a fork in the road, and she couldn’t return to this coziness any more than she could explore the cliffs with Con again. She didn’t say that, though, merely squeezed her aunt’s hand and went on her way.
As soon as they were out of earshot of the house, David asked, “Is the earl going to make trouble?”
Trouble? What was trouble? Perhaps she should tell David the whole story so he would be warned. She was very afraid that if Con discovered that her brother was the new Captain Drake he’d turn against the Dragon’s Horde for that reason.
“I don’t think he’ll fight the smuggling,” she said, hoping it was true. “As things are at the moment. I suspect he won’t invest, though, and he might not cooperate about the cellars and the horses.”
“Inconvenient. Are you sure you can’t persuade him to play a part? Smuggling has to continue, or I wouldn’t be doing it.”
“Truly?” She looked at him.
“Truly. I confess, I enjoy it in part, but I’m all too aware of the dangers. If you can, persuade the earl to be on our side.”
Susan suppressed a shudder at the thought. “I think Gifford is more likely to persuade him into complete opposition. They’re both army men.”
“But isn’t Gifford sweet on you?”
“I am not encouraging the poor man, not even for you.”
“Ah, well,” he said as they passed through the arch into the orchard, “Mel always said we had to play the hand we were dealt.”
“Mel,” Susan said, remembering. “David, Gifford suggested that the old earl helped bring about Mel’s arrest.”
He stopped to stare at her. “What? That’s nonsense. They had an agreement.”
“Might they have had a falling-out?”
“I’d have thought you’d know that better than I.”
“I didn’t see anything. . . .” They walked on. “But he might have hidden it from me. He wasn’t stupid, and he’d know that I’d probably warn Mel of danger.”
“Only probably?”
“We’ve no reason to feel kindly toward our parents.”
He glanced at her. “I used to go down to the George and Dragon sometimes. I suppose it was easier, us being men. . . .”
For some reason it hurt. “Were you friends, then, you and Mel?”
“I don’t know what you’d call it. Not father and son. Not friends either. I’m no happier than you about the way they ignored us, but I came to like him. He told me I’d have to take over if anything happened without giving him time to prepare. That’s why he talked to me about the business.”
She realized she was hurt by this connection, and by the fact that David had kept it secret.
But then, she had secrets, and now she didn’t feel so responsible for pushing David into being Captain Drake.
“And Lady Belle?” she asked. “Were you friends with her too?” She heard the sour note in her voice but couldn’t seem to help it.
His look said he heard it too. “She liked the company of handsome young men.”
“Handsome, are you?”
“Stupid to say no. Susan, look, some women just aren’t made to be mothers. I think Mel would have liked to be closer to us, but he wouldn’t cross her for it. And he liked his children being raised at the manor as gentry. He didn’t want us living in Dragon’s Cove, part of his class. He kept an eye on us, and everyone around here knew better than to harm us.”
Kept an eye. As Mel had by talking to Con. And she’d always felt safe roaming the coast. Perhaps her aunt and uncle had known she was under Captain Drake’s protection, and that was why they’d given her so much freedom.
Her world had twisted again.
“How do you think he’ll do in Australia?” she asked.
<
br /> “Mel? If he’s survived the voyage he’ll probably thrive. I gather that after a while they can set up businesses.”
“And Lady Belle?” But then she burst out, “I don’t even like her, so why am I concerned?”
He laughed. “Blood will out? She’ll be queen of Australia.”
“On gold that doesn’t belong to her.”
“In a way, it did. Mel kept a handsome sum to back up the Horde in difficult times. He even paid people for sitting idle so they wouldn’t get up to trouble. But it was his money. His profits.”
Susan was bouncing from one shock to another. “The earl’s gold is the Horde’s though, isn’t it? The earl didn’t keep his part of the bargain.”
“Assuredly.”
So it was right to take it. She still didn’t want to take it from Con. Or, to be more precise, she didn’t want Con to know if she took it.
She shifted to something firmer. “What happened last night. How bad is it?”
“Half bad. We have half the cargo secure, though we won’t be able to move it for a while with Gifford and his men poking around everywhere. The fight last night has them all over this part of the coast, dammit.”
“What happened? How badly are you hurt?”
“Don’t fuss. A line of tubmen was attacked. I think it was the Blackstock Gang, but I’m not sure. I arrived before they’d snatched all the tubs, but they got some and left a lot of men bruised and battered.”
“Gifford said he knows of some of the injured. Were they ours?”
“Yes. I let him find them, since there was nothing to prove the cause of the fight—we had the cargo away by then. They’d get better doctoring that way. The others carried away their wounded.”
She was afraid he might go after the Blackstocks to teach them a lesson, afraid he’d get more badly hurt, but she knew she had no say in such things. He wasn’t her little brother anymore.
But there was an area where she could speak. “How much did we lose? What’s our situation now?”
“About half the profit, but I’ve kept that quiet. I’ll forgo my share, and if you do the same—”
