by M C Beaton
One day back home and already I am dying of boredom, thought Penelope. She had been sitting by the window all morning, waiting for the sound of a carriage arriving. She tried not to think of Lord Augustus, but Miss Pym had promised to call and surely she would.
But the more she tried not to think of Lord Augustus, the more she did. She could see his face clearly in her mind’s eye, his blue eyes and beautiful face and golden hair. She could almost feel the strength of his arms. She could still feel his lips, she could still taste his lips, and it all made her feel wretched when she thought that a simple kiss could do such damage to her senses and leave him unscathed.
By late afternoon no one had arrived. And then she heard the sound of carriage wheels and looked down from the window. But it was only her father arriving home.
She flew down to meet him. She was suddenly determined to visit the inn and see Miss Pym and the others. Her father would take her.
At first, Mr Wilkins appeared reluctant. On reflection, he had been shocked by Penelope’s adventures and alarmed that his daughter should have been in such danger. But when Penelope said softly that she was sure Lord Augustus was still there, Mr Wilkins brightened perceptibly and said that, after all, it would only be civil of them to call.
Mrs Wilkins, sitting sewing in the drawing-room, heard them leave and wondered where they were going. Only rarely did her husband tell her anything.
6
I … chose my wife, as she did her wedding-gown, not for a fine glossy surface, but such qualities as would wear well.
Oliver Goldsmith
Hannah Pym stood with her hands clasped in Portsmouth harbour. The sun was shining brightly and a stiff wind was blowing. Through the forest of masts gleamed the sea, endless and blue, sparkling and dancing and shining. She heaved a great sigh of sheer gladness. And then into that gladness crept a little tinge of regret. It would have been wonderful if Sir George Clarence had been at her side at such a moment: Sir George, that producer of miracles like ices at Gunter’s and promises of opera.
‘Doesn’t it make you think, Miss Pym,’ said Mr Cato at her ear, ‘that stage-coach travel is as nothing compared to travelling the world by ship? Do you see the packets and frigates? A steady wind and a man can be in America in twenty-one days. Think on it!’
‘I have not yet exhausted stage-coach travel,’ said Hannah, ‘but it is all very exciting. Can we go somewhere where I can stand on the shore?’
‘I’ll drive you,’ said Mr Cato, leading the way back to the pony and gig he had hired. He drove Hannah and Miss Trenton a little way out of town and then down to a beach. Great curling glassy waves fell at Hannah’s feet as she walked in a happy trance along the shore. She felt like running and shouting aloud, but instead she contented herself by gazing her fill at the heaving ocean.
‘Allow me to have a word in private with Miss Pym, if you please, Miss Trenton,’ said Mr Cato and then walked away to join Hannah.
Miss Trenton watched them go. Mr Cato, she thought jealously, was going to propose to that Miss Pym again. She was anxious not to offend Mr Cato in case that gentleman regretted his generous offer to pay her bill at the inn, but jealousy of Hannah made her move towards the couple to see if she could hear what they were saying. The wind carried their words faintly to Miss Trenton’s ears.
‘Changed your mind yet about marrying me?’ Mr Cato was asking.
Hannah looked at the fiery-faced American with some amusement. ‘Mr Cato, I am persuaded you do not really care a fig for me. You know nothing about me. Why on earth do you want to marry me?’
‘Fact is,’ replied Mr Cato, digging one square-toed shoe in the sand, ‘I came to England for the express purpose of finding a wife. I am not in the way of meeting the ladies back home in Virginia. I’m a bit awkward around them and that’s the truth. I thought I would go to London and find me a bride. But it was just as difficult there. Friends tried to help me and produced likely brides, but I’m dashed if I knew what to say to them. All I want is a sensible woman who doesn’t scare me. We should suit very well, Miss Pym.’
‘Are you trying to tell me,’ demanded Hannah, feeling piqued, ‘that almost any female would do?’
‘That’s about it,’ said Mr Cato, picking up a stone and throwing it into the curving waves.
‘Then let me give you a piece of advice,’ said Hannah tartly. ‘If you should be fortunate enough to meet some other female who you think might suit you before you board ship, then I suggest you try courting her first.’ Hannah was very annoyed. She had dreamt a little about telling Sir George of Mr Cato’s proposal of marriage, but now she did not think it at all flattering to herself to relate that a gentleman had proposed to her out of sheer desperation.
Miss Trenton had managed to hear most of what had been said. She walked a little away again, her heart beating hard. If anyone would do, why not Miss Abigail Trenton?
Hannah was pleased to find Miss Trenton relatively good company for the rest of the outing and began to think that Mr Cato had the right of it – there was good in anyone, if Miss Trenton was any example.
They returned to the inn to change for dinner. Benjamin was up and dressed and waiting in Hannah’s bedchamber for her. There was a small pile of gold and silver on the table beside the bed, which Benjamin proudly pointed out. He was wearing his new livery, or rather, new to him, since Mr Cato had bought the garments at a second-hand clothes-shop. He had curled his hair and powdered it.
‘What is this?’ demanded Hannah, indicating the money and turning so that her footman could read her lips.
He took a pair of dice out of his pocket and tossed them lightly up and down by way of reply.
‘This gambling will not do. It will not do at all,’ said Hannah severely.
Benjamin stood there with a grin on his face, a face that Hannah thought was beginning to look too cheeky and intelligent for a servant to have. Benjamin took out a new notebook and a lead pencil and wrote, ‘I cannot hand it back now.’
‘Oh, very well,’ said Hannah, dividing the money into two piles. ‘You take half. Go on. I should be furious with you, but I must confess I am pleased to have something to defray our expenses here and it would be hypocritical of me to pretend otherwise. But the day will come, Benjamin, when you will lose heavily. All gamblers do, and then I shall have to bail you out. Now leave me and wait below while I change and dress. Are you sure you are well enough to be up?’
Benjamin nodded vigorously, swept Hannah a low bow and walked out.
Hannah, Miss Trenton, and Mr Cato ate their dinner in relative silence and then retired to the coffee room. Hannah sent Benjamin to get his own dinner and said she would not need him for the rest of the evening.
‘We should call on Miss Wilkins tomorrow,’ said Mr Cato. ‘It still feels strange, it just being us three.’
‘I really meant to call today.’ Hannah looked slightly guilty. ‘But the sea, you know, the beautiful sea drove all other thoughts out of my head.’
‘I could hire a boat,’ said Mr Cato suddenly. ‘The weather looks set fair. How would you like to find yourself out on the water tomorrow, Miss Pym?’
Hannah clasped her hands. ‘Oh, that would be wonderful. What kind of boat?’
‘Oh, a rowing-boat, I think. Take both you ladies.’
Miss Trenton gave a little sniff and then that irritating cough of hers. ‘I cannot go,’ she said. ‘I really must go to see my friend and … and … find out whether she will take me.’
‘Another day as my guest.’ Mr Cato rubbed his plump hands. ‘Hey, Miss Pym? What say you?’
Hannah wanted to say she would rather not go with Miss Trenton and yet her heart was touched by the governess’s plight.
She forced a smile. ‘Do say you will come, Miss Trenton.’
‘You are the best of men, Mr Cato.’ Miss Trenton gazed into his eyes. ‘I shall never forget your generosity.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Mr Cato. ‘You are both doing me a favour. I have never felt more at ease with the
ladies in my life before.’
‘Why! Here is Miss Wilkins and her father,’ exclaimed Hannah.
‘I thought you would call,’ said Penelope, rushing up to them. ‘I waited and waited.’
‘We meant to call tomorrow,’ said Hannah. ‘Pray be seated, Mr Wilkins.’ Just then, she saw Lord Augustus coming into the taproom, followed by a small elderly man. ‘Now we are all together again,’ cried Mr Cato.
Introductions were made all round. Mr Wilkins was beside himself with joy. He was in the company of not one, but two lords. Hannah looked at his shining face and wondered if he stopped to think he might be betraying his radical principles. But it was obvious Mr Wilkins only wanted the best for his daughter and took the arrival of Lord Abernethy as a sign that a proposal was in the offing.
Lord Augustus was finding it very hard not to stare at Penelope. She was wearing a soft gown of white crepe decorated with a thin thread of silver. A spangled gauze scarf was worn around her shoulders. Her curls fell from a little knot on the top of her head. He could see that his uncle was giving her admiring looks, although Lord Abernethy was still rather stiff and formal when he spoke to Mr Wilkins, as if warning the tradesman not to become too familiar.
Penelope talked animatedly to Miss Pym about how life seemed very flat and dull after all the fun they had had, but all the while she talked she sensed, rather than saw, Lord Augustus, for she could not bring herself to look directly at him.
Hannah then began to regale the company with her impressions of her first sight of the sea, ending up with, ‘And Mr Cato is to hire a boat on the morrow and take me and Miss Trenton on the water.’
‘Please, may I go too?’ begged Penelope.
‘Well, puss,’ said her father, ‘I do not know that I approve. What if a squall should blow up?’
‘We shall only go a little way from the shore,’ put in Mr Cato. ‘No doubt Lord Augustus will come along to help me with the oars.’
‘My nephew and I have other plans,’ said Lord Abernethy.
Really, thought the retired admiral, as a circle of disappointed faces looked at him. They are just like children!
‘I am sure Uncle can spare me for a few hours,’ said Lord Augustus smoothly, his calm manner belying the fact he found the idea of being near Penelope in a rocking boat where he might have an opportunity to take her in his arms a delightful prospect.
‘In that case,’ said Mr Wilkins quickly, ‘I can have no possible objection, now that I know his lordship is to be of the party.’
Hannah, sitting next to Lord Abernethy, noticed his frozen expression, and when the others had begun to talk about when and where they would meet, she said to him gently, ‘You obviously do not approve of your nephew’s friendship with the Wilkinses.’
‘No, ma’am,’ replied Lord Abernethy. ‘How can I?’
‘Meaning that she is a tradesman’s daughter? But if Lord Augustus returns to London and to his old life, he will go on gambling and roistering and die young. Miss Wilkins is just the young lady to give him a much-needed sense of responsibility.’
‘I could not expect such as you to understand.’ Lord Abernethy took out his quizzing-glass and surveyed Hannah coldly.
‘I understand the ways of the world very well,’ snapped Hannah, a high spot of colour on both cheeks. ‘But I also know that there have been many successful marriages between members of the Wilkinses’ class and the aristocracy. Dear me, my lord, you force me to remind you that many members of the top ten thousand got their titles on the wrong side of the blanket!’
‘Miss Pym!’
‘That is the case and well you know it. A girl like Penelope would breed fine strong sons. Tcha! You put me out of patience.’
Lord Abernethy’s face relaxed slightly and a thin smile curled his mouth.
‘I am not going to become exercised over your remarks, ma’am. My nephew has a great deal of good sense and knows what is owing to his family name. He will not make a mésalliance.’
‘Perhaps it would be a mésalliance.’ Hannah looked down her crooked nose at the little admiral. ‘Miss Wilkins may be much too good for him!’
‘Does that time suit you, Miss Pym?’ Hannah realized Mr Cato was asking her.
‘I am sorry. What time?’
‘We are hiring carriages and driving out to a little fishing village, Croombe, along the coast. We meet here at two in the afternoon.’
‘Splendid!’ cried Hannah.
And all looked delighted with the arrangements except Lord Abernethy.
In her private sitting-room at another inn on the other side of Portsmouth, Lady Carsey looked up impatiently as her nephew, a thin, weedy youth whose highly rouged face showed signs of early dissipation, walked into the room. ‘Did you find any of them?’ she asked.
Her nephew, Mr John Fotheringay, grinned and slumped into a chair opposite and dangled one leg over the arm. ‘Yaas,’ he drawled.
‘Are you sure?’
‘All of ’em, I would say,’ said Mr Fotheringay. He ticked off on his fingers. ‘Item one: Female with crooked nose and funny-coloured eyes, spinsterish, square shoulders. Item two: Lord Augustus. I know him by sight. Item three: Dumpy little man with a red face and red hair. Item four: Another spinster, pinched little face, hideous bonnet. Item five: The almost unbearably gorgeous, most delightful little ladybird I ever did see. No sign of that footman you was talking about. Two men; one appeared to be the father of the beauty and t’other some sort of relative of Lord Augustus. But harkee, the ones you want are going to some village near here, Croombe, to take a boat out tomorrow at two.’
‘Why? Why are they going?’
‘Stap me. How should I know? Seems that one who answers to the description of the fire-raising Miss Pym wants a trip on the ocean. Probably that.’
‘Good.’ Lady Carsey ferreted in a box on a table beside her for a sugarplum, popped it into her mouth, and chewed reflectively.
‘I need someone to do the dirty work,’ she said at last.
‘Just cross my palm with some gold and I’ll do it for you,’ said Mr Fotheringay and then whooped with laughter.
‘No, nothing must lead back to me. This town is full of smugglers, is it not?’
‘Crawling with them. I doubt if there is a house or inn in this town which has an honest bottle of brandy or packet of tea. This damn war with France has made everything so expensive, it is a positive duty to have one’s own personal smuggler.’
‘I need some smugglers. Get them for me. They cannot come here. Arrange some discreet meeting-place. You will be well paid.’
‘Take a good few hours. And what do I tell them? They’ll want to know if it is a killing matter.’
‘Accidental drowning is what I am after. The sad fact is that Lord Augustus can probably swim like a fish, but he can’t rescue all of them. He’ll go for the beauty. The Pym woman is the one I want drowned like a rat.’
Mr Fotheringay’s swinging foot paused in mid-air. He examined his buckled shoe carefully and then said in a neutral voice, ‘Have you ever thought, Auntie, that you could save yourself a great deal of time and trouble by leaving them all alone? And what if the Pym female does drown? Won’t that return to plague your conscience in the dark watches of the night?’
‘Do not be stupid, John. If I let her go unscathed, that is what will haunt my dreams.’
‘Well, you do believe in long-range murder. What did you plan to do with that footman if they hadn’t rescued him?’
‘Keep him until he’d had enough of a fright and then turn him loose.’
‘I do not believe that for one moment,’ said her nephew, who was allowed all the licence of a sort of court jester. ‘The fellow would have run to the nearest justice and reported you.’
She shrugged her white shoulders. ‘I would have denied it and so would all my servants. Besides, he cannot talk. Off with you, and get some clever silent type of smugglers, not some drunks who will promise all tonight and forget what they have promised on th
e morrow.’
The only people who found it hard to find smugglers were the excisemen. Members of the public who wanted some duty-free brandy or lace, coffee or tea found it amazingly easy. Mr Fotheringay simply went downstairs and buttonholed a waiter, slipped him a crown, and said he was looking for a fairly large consignment of brandy, and then winked. The waiter told him to ask at an inn called the Green Tree, down near the harbour. Mr Fotheringay repaired there, pushed open the door and walked in. He was accustomed to frequenting low taverns and knew as soon as he had walked over the threshold that he was in the right place. He bluntly asked the sleazy individual who was serving in the tap where he might find someone who could supply him with French brandy. The man said nothing. Mr Fotheringay cheerfully handed him a sovereign, ordered a glass of rum and hot water, and retreated to a corner of the room to wait.
An hour and several rums later Mr Fotheringay felt a large presence looming over him. A huge man in rough clothes was standing there, studying him. He sat down opposite Mr Fotheringay and said in a low voice, ‘How much brandy?’
‘None at all,’ replied Mr Fotheringay happily, but the smile died on his face as he felt the prick of a knife against the back of his neck and realized the large man’s companion was standing behind him. ‘I mean,’ he went on rapidly, ‘I have an offer for you which will mean you earning a great deal of money.’
‘That’s more like it,’ said the large man. ‘Let’s do the pretty and introduce ourselves all round. This here, behind you, is Ben, and I’m Josiah.’
‘How friendly,’ said Mr Fotheringay with a nervous titter. ‘You may call me John.’
‘Right, John.’ Josiah leaned close to him. ‘Out with it.’
So Mr Fotheringay explained that they were to locate a party who would be taking a boat out from Croombe on the morrow and they were to capsize that boat. That was all they had to do.
‘It ain’t a killing matter, then,’ said Josiah reflectively.
‘It probably will be, considering how few people there are who can swim,’ said Mr Fotheringay. ‘I want you to meet the lady who wishes this done. She will pay you well but the terms are to be set by her. She cannot come to a low place like this and you cannot go to her home. Where can you meet her where you will be unobserved?’
