The Bladesmith

by Melinda Hammond

  'I didn't know you had heard of that, Papa.'

  'I hear a great deal, my love, but don't always see fit to discuss it with you.'

  She bent her head over her sewing. Sometimes she, too, underestimated her father.

  'The French ship's back.'

  John and Matthew were sitting on the cliff at the northern end of the bay, from where they had a clear view of the Keep and the sea around it. There were ridges further south that were much closer to the Keep, but John suspected that the earl's men would have these under surveillance. Matthew shielded his eyes and followed the line of John's pointing finger.

  'How can you be so sure it is the same ship?'

  'Two masts, square, red sails. Just as our gallant Captain Thropton described her. And she is anchored off the point, in line with the Keep.' John raised his telescope again. 'On one matter, though, I disagree with the Captain. I think she may well be fishing. There's something going over the side …. It looks like a net, but …'

  John let out a low whistle.

  'Well master, what is it?' Matthew stared at the ship, squinting against the early morning sunlight that glinted on the water. 'Looks to me as if she's moving off.'

  'Aye, Matty, she is, but she's left something behind.' He handed over the telescope. 'Look hard, Matthew and you will see something on the water. I believe it’s a marker.'

  'Where …. Ah, yes, there it is.' He said eagerly, 'Perhaps there's a package in the water.'

  'I am certain that there is.'

  'Then we should fetch it out. I will hire a boat – '

  'No, I do not think so.'

  'Then what?'

  'I regret our task is going to be a little more tedious, Matthew. We are going to wait and see just who does go out to the marker.' John stood up and stretched. 'You can have first watch.'

  'With respect, sir, would it not look better for you to stay here? After all, 'tis you who professed to be the artist, bent on capturing the view.'

  'Very true, Matthew, which is why I am going back to the inn now to fetch my sketch pad and pencils. Unfortunately for you it may take me some time.' He grinned at the sight of his companion's downcast face. 'Don't worry, I'll come back at noon, and I shall bring lunch with me!'

  Leaving Matthew to watch the ship, John rode back to Sleaton by way of the coast path. He had been at the Three Tuns for a week and during that time he had seen very little activity taking place in the bay. The landlord had told him that most of the fishing took place out of Craster, just down the coast, where there was a natural inlet. A few still fished from the sands here, using a coble, the sailing boat preferred on this section of coast. It had a deep forefoot and flat stern that could be launched from the gently-sloping beach into the breaking seas.

  Reaching the Three Tuns, John stabled Dorcas then made his way indoors, where a tap boy was half-heartedly sweeping out the parlour.

  'Dear me, no fire in this room yet?'

  The boy jumped at the hearty address and turned, tugging at his lank, blond forelock.

  'Beggin' your pardon, your honour, but when I heard the master saying as how you was not expected back until late, I thought it could wait.'

  'Well, no matter, I shall not be here for long. I shall go upstairs, there may still be some life left in the fire in my room.' He turned to leave and found his way blocked by Lord Warenford's steward standing in the doorway.

  'Ah, Master … Davis, is it not?' John allowed himself a faint smile.

  'Master Steel.' He gave the slightest of bows. 'I did not think to see you here again.'

  John raised one brow. He said softly, 'No?

  A faint flush of annoyance crossed the steward's face.

  'His lordship received no word from you that were returning.'

  John's smile broadened. Davis was curious.

  'I sent none. I am merely here for pleasure. A sketching tour, don't you know.' He waved a hand airily. 'Such magnificent coastline, is it not? With such interesting features.'

  John felt a little spurt of satisfaction at the disbelief in the man's eyes. Davis was sceptical, but he dare not question him more. John excused himself and proceeded up the stairs. Clearly Davis was suspicious of his presence in Sleaton, but John wondered if he had come to the inn expressly to find out his business there, or had it been pure chance. The fellow had certainly not shown any surprise to see him there.

  The bedroom had been tidied since he had left it that morning: the bed was made, chamber pot emptied and there was fresh water in the pitcher on the washstand. Any hopes John had cherished of enjoying the comfort of a fire died when he saw that the embers had been raked out and the hearth swept clean. The estimable Mistress Fawden had even opened the window to air the room. He hunted out his sketching block and pencils, thinking with a wry smile that he might have to put something on the empty sheets if people were going to question his presence there. He was wondering if he should draw something now, before he left the room, when there were the unmistakable sounds of an altercation in the yard below his open window. A muffled shriek was quickly followed by a ringing slap.

  'How dare 'ee, Tom Goode!'

  'Away man, don't tell me y'don't like bein' kissed.'

  'Not by you, I don't!'

  John stepped out onto the gallery and looked down into the yard. The tow-headed tap-boy was rubbing his cheek and staring angrily at Lily Catrigg, the pretty serving wench he had seen at the beach.

  'Think you're too good for the likes of us, now, don't you?' continued Tom, 'An' all this talk of a fancy beau. If he's so sweet on you, why can't you tell us who he is, why don't he walk out with you, then?'

  Lily tossed her head.

  'He will, just as soon as he's got permission from the earl for us to marry. 'Till then 'e says we's got to be dis- dis- we's got to be careful.'

  'Aye, 'tis you who'd best be careful,' retorted Tom, 'or you'll be carryin' his bastard.' He ducked as Lily aimed another slap at him, and ran off, laughing crudely.

  'You jus' wait, Tom Goode!' Lily cried after him, stamping her foot, 'You jus' wait 'til I'm married to my man. An' the first thing I'll get 'un to do is to give you a good thrashing!'

  Shaking his head, John pushed sketchpad and pencils into his satchel and ran back down the stairs, where he encountered the tap-boy coming in from the yard.

  'Ah, Tom. Can you fetch me a tankard of home-brewed, then go and tell Mistress Fawden to pack up a cold collation for me to take out with me? I need enough for myself and my man. I'll be in the parlour.'

  A few minutes later the boy returned, carrying a brimming tankard and assuring Sir that the Mistress would have his luncheon packed up in a pig's whisker.

  'Thank you.' John took the tankard. 'Before you go - you said earlier that you heard the landlord saying I was out. He did not say so to you?'

  The tap boy rubbed his nose. 'Lord no, sir, he don't tell me things like that.'

  'Then who did he tell?'

  'It were Master Davis, sir. The earl's man, when 'e came in askin' after you.'

  John waved him away. So Warenford did know he had returned to Sleaton, and was concerned enough to make enquiries.

  John and Matthew spent the rest of the day on the cliff, watching the waters of the bay but although one or two cobles made forays out onto the steel-grey sea, none approached the marker. Clouds were gathering, and a fresh breeze sprang up, presaging a blustery, overcast night.

  'I think it's time we returned to the inn,' John decided. 'Nothing is likely to go out tonight, it's too dark, and even if they did we wouldn't see 'em.' He stretched. 'Come on, let's get back, and I hope that rascally landlord has remembered to light the fires!'

  They set out again at daybreak, Matty informing the sleepy boot-boy that his master wanted to capture the dawn. John was glad he had not said the sunrise, for it was another grey and overcast day and a sharp northerly wind added to their discomfort. By noon he was heartily bored and left Matthew to keep watch while he took Dorcas for a gallop along the beac
h. From there it was but a short ride inland to the Manor, and he yielded to the temptation to call, ostensibly to pick up any information about Lord Warenford, but secretly hoping to see Katherine.

  As John dismounted from his horse the groom, Gordon, ran out to him, nodding respectfully.

  'Good day to you, Master Steel. Master Henry and Miss Kate are from home, but his lordship has asked that you should be shown into the parlour. He was advised that you was approaching, sir,' he added, observing John's surprise.

  'Ah, I see.' John handed over the reins, but stopped the groom as he would have walked away. 'You still address your master as his lordship?'

  'Aye, that I do.' The groom raised his head, meeting John's enquiring gaze with a challenging look of his own. 'Them in London might decree that he has forfeit all his lands and titles, but I shall call him Lord until he's gone, as will many others around here with long memories.'

  'Your loyalty does you credit,' murmured John. 'But it could prove dangerous.'

  The groom looked at him, as if deciding how to respond.

  'My loyalty is to the man,' he said at last. 'Not to the cause that cost him so dear.' He turned aside to spit on the ground. 'The title will die with the old master, and that's as it should be, for Lord knows he has no heir fit to follow him.'

  John watched the old groom walk away with Dorcas, then with a shrug, he turned and went into the house.

  He was shown into the wainscoted parlour, where Amos Ellingham was sitting beside a cheerful fire, a rug wrapped about his legs. John bowed.

  'Good day to you, sir, and my apologies if I am disturbing you.'

  'If you were that, sir, I should not have told Morwick to admit you. You are welcome, Master Steel. I have very little company here and should like you to take a cup of wine with me. I have had another bottle of the claret fetched up. We enjoyed it when you were last with us.'

  'I should be delighted to drink with you, Master Ellingham.' John noted the decanter and glasses on a sideboard. 'Would you like me to pour it, sir, or shall I call for your man?'

  'No, no, you do it, my boy. No point in troubling Morwick if you don't mind serving me.' He took the wineglass John held out to him and sipped at the contents. 'Sit down, sir, sit down. Kate told me you cut logs for my fire, on your first visit here. I never thanked you for that.'

  John chose to sit on a chair on the opposite side of the hearth.

  'It needed to be done, and your groom was in no fit state at that time.'

  'It was very good of you, Master Steel, very good of you.' Those shrewd grey eyes rested thoughtfully upon him. 'You came then to see Lord Warenford.'

  'Aye, sir. It was, ah, a business transaction, which I now regret.'

  'Ah yes. A consignment of swords, I think. Oh, don't look so surprised, young man. My body may be broken but my servants bring me news, despite my children believing I should be kept in ignorance.'

  'Doubtless they seek to spare you pain, sir.'

  'Doubtless,' the old man agreed. He fixed John with a fierce stare. 'You said you are regretting your transaction. Why?'

  John returned look for look. 'Because I want no part in a civil war.'

  The old man nodded.

  'Nor I. I was involved in the '15, you know. I can still remember the folly of it. There was no general rising in favour of the Stuarts. The country had no appetite for it. There has to be a deal of unrest to make your common man rise up.' The old man sighed. 'I lost many friends in that fiasco. Derwentwater and Kenmure were executed, of course. Some escaped to France, many were deported to the Carolinas as slaves. I was spared that, and merely lost my lands and my titles.'

  'And your freedom, sir? For several years, I understand.'

  'Aye, that as well. Eight years. Sometimes in the night I can still hear the cries and screams from the cells.' He shook his head as if to dispel the memory and pushed himself more upright in his chair. 'So, sir, what will you do?'

  'Try to undo some of the mischief. I fear Warenford means to raise an army. I would not have him use my family's blades against the government, or to set brother against brother.'

  'Aye. It has been thirty years. For God's sake there should be peace now.'

  'Amen to that.'

  'Where are you staying?'

  'I have a room at the inn at Sleaton.'

  'Lord Warenford's domain.'

  'Aye, sir,'

  'The earl will want to know why you are here.'

  John smiled. 'He has already sent his man to the inn. But I am here to sketch. I have rarely seen a more interesting coastline.'

  'Is that what you've said? He won't believe it.'

  'He cannot disprove it, however.'

  'True.' The old man sipped his wine thoughtfully. 'My son Henry is wondrous great with the earl.'

  'I believe so, sir.'

  'And Kate is betrothed to him.'

  'I know that.'

  Another fierce stare from beneath those bushy brows.

  'Warenford is a powerful man, a dangerous man to cross.'

  'I am aware of that also, Master Ellingham.' John rose. 'May I pour you some more wine?'

  * * *

  Katherine rode out of Warenford Keep beside her brother, who was chewing his lip in frustration.

  'Katherine, you are playing a dangerous game. The earl is not a man to trifle with.'

  She cast him a scornful glance. 'At least I am not his toady!'

  'If I am it is to make up for your shrewishness! You must name the day for the wedding. Warenford has been very patient, but I fear you push him too far.'

  'Nonsense. You know I cannot marry while my father is so ill.'

  'You must, Katherine. This alliance is necessary.'

  'For whom?'

  'For you, of course. You must know very well that at three-and-twenty you are well on the way to becoming an ape-leader.'

  Her lip curled. 'How elegantly you put it, brother. Yet I think even that would be preferable to marrying the earl.'

  Henry cursed in exasperation and grabbed her rein.

  'Damn you Kate, I need his patronage! I have nothing. No land, no title – '

  'If you would put your mind to it you could improve the Manor, and we could live comfortably enough.'

  'I do not want your charity.'

  'It isn't charity! I cannot manage the estate alone, and if you worked with me, we could increase our holding, you might buy lands of your own.'

  'A farm, perhaps! That is not my birthright. I want more, I deserve more.'

  Katherine brought her crop down on his wrist, forcing him to release her rein.

  'Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Henry, and start taking an interest in the Manor. It can support us both, if you would but see it.'

  'What do I care for that old ruin?' He kicked his horse on and they rode the rest of the way back to the Manor in silence. Only when they reached the stables did Henry speak again. Gordon had run out to help Katherine dismount and while Henry was waiting for his own groom, he spotted a large horse tethered just inside one of the doors.

  'Hell and damnation, whose is that strawberry roan?'

  'Mister Steel is with the master, sir,' Gordon told him.

  The groom's voice and countenance were devoid of expression, but when Katherine caught his eye she saw a glint of satisfaction twinkling there.

  'Steel?' Henry glared at his sister. 'The fellow the earl fought with at the Keep? What's he doing here?'

  'He called on us a few days ago,' said Katherine calmly. 'As you would have known if you were home more.'

  She ignored his scowls as he followed her through the house to the parlour. The visitor was sitting at his ease with their father. As Katherine walked in John rose, bowing, and she could not help her heart leaping at the sight of him. It seemed to be beating in her throat, stopping her breath, but she tried to hide it, keeping her smile for her father as she stripped off her gloves.

  'Papa, we have left you too long, I beg your pardon.'

  'No matter
, my love, I have been well entertained. You will remember Master Steel, Henry? I recall you told me you had met him at the Keep.'

  'Aye, I know him.'

  Henry's ungraciousness made Katherine respond in a friendlier manner than she had intended, although she managed, after a struggle, not to offer him her hand.

  'Master Steel, how delightful to see you again.'

  Henry had moved to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of wine, so she was obliged to continue talking. For the sake of good manners, she told herself.

  'Do you intend a long stay in the area?'

  It was her father who responded.

  'Let us hope so,' he said. ' I have invited Master Steel to come and stay with us.'

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The reaction to this announcement brought a gleam of amusement to the old man's eye. Even through his own surprise, John noted it, and had to suppress a smile at the look of shock on the faces of the brother and sister.

  'Dear me,' he murmured. 'You have dropped your glove, Mistress.'

  He stooped to retrieve it and when she took it from him their fingers brushed. The shock of even that light touch sent a jolt of excitement shivering down his spine. He observed that Kate was trembling, and could not help wondering – nay, hoping –she had felt something similar.

  'Thank you,' she muttered, not meeting his eyes. 'I – '

  'This is very sudden, Father,' Henry broke in, his voice and temper tightly controlled. 'I was not aware that you were acquainted with Master Steel.'

  'Oh yes,' said Amos, a faint smile on his lips. 'He called upon us in July, did I not tell you? It must have slipped my mind. At that time Master Steel was Lord Warenford's guest, so I would not presume to offer my humble hospitality, but now he is travelling in the area and we would be delighted to welcome him. Is that not so, my son?'

  John watched as Henry Ellingham fought with himself. It was clear he wanted to object, but he was no match for his father, despite the old man's physical infirmity.

  'Of course, Father.'

  'Good, good. Mr Steel tells me he is a keen chess player, and I am eager to put that to the test. Certainly he cannot be any worse than you, my son!'