Penelope was just about to climb into her carriage when Lady Crompton, the Lady who three months ago had snubbed her at the Newcastle Assembly Rooms, put a hand on her arm to detain her. ‘My dear Lady Winterbourne, I always knew that you were innocent of the malicious rumours in those dreadful flyers, and offer you my well wishes. I am having a small soiree on Friday evening, would you care to join us?’
‘Penelope looked down derisively at the gloved hand still resting on her forearm and removed it. ‘Lady Crompton, I am afraid I must decline. It is a shame you were not so forthcoming three months ago when I really needed a friend. I have no desire for your kind of Society, so now if you will please excuse me, I must continue on my way.’ Penelope climbed up into the carriage assisted by Nat and left an embarrassed Lady Crompton standing on the street open mouthed and totally flawed.
Part Two
Chapter 9
Two days later, Nathanial left the shores of England on a small Sloop bound for Holland. The mission was to buy contraband brandy, gin, lace and tobacco, and bring it back to England to sell on the black market. The Sloop was financed by a community cooperative, so if they lost a cargo, the loss would be evenly absorbed, and no one would be entirely ruined. It was Nat’s first trip abroad and Penelope had reluctantly agreed to let him go. He still viewed himself as his Ladies groom, but as he would no longer accept a wage off her, the dynamics of their relationship had changed, and she had not wished to stop him from doing something, he so eagerly looked forward to.
On seeing the anticipation on his face, his wife Hannah had reluctantly given the trip her blessing too, although she was far from easy. Nat had been asked to go in the place of Big Daniel, whose wife was expecting a baby at any moment, and the Sloop was expected to be gone for a couple of weeks. It was just one of the many smuggling runs, which Rosie and her gang made during the year, and Nathaniel was eager for the opportunity travel abroad.
After Nathaniel left, Penelope sat in the kitchen with Rosie and Hannah and Big Daniel entered. He slapped two large cod and a huge lobster on the table. ‘Something for the pot Rosie,’ he declared cheerfully. He had every reason to be happy because his wife Leah had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl, whom they had named Zoe.
‘How is the little one,’ Rosie asked with a huge beam on her face. Daniel could not have looked any happier. ‘Ah, the nipper is just fine, Rosie old girl. A good pair of lungs she has on her,’ he pronounced proudly.
It was obvious, however, by his demeanour that he also had news of a different sort, but was holding back as he spotted Penelope shelling peas at the bench. Rosie waved her hand. ‘It is all right Daniel; you can speak in front of Miss Penny. She is an honorary member of our little group.’ Daniel watched Penelope as she stood next to Hannah shelling peas. He knew of her presence, but this was the first time he had seen her. He had been on a contraband run the last time she was here. Her dress was simple, but made of fine, quality muslin and her bearing was aristocratic. Despite her humble activity, it was obvious that here stood a Lady of breeding. Daniel was uncertain, but Rosie’s word was trustworthy and he knew that this woman was also an acquaintance of Nat, who had taken his place on the Holland run. He reasoned, therefore, that she must be sound. ‘Well, if you say so Rosie,’ he continued. ‘I think we may have a problem.’
Rosie rubbed her hands on her apron and sat down at the table. ‘What kind of problem Daniel?’ she asked with concern as she saw his expression change.
Daniel heaved a reluctant sigh. ‘Last night Sam and Ashe retrieved the last of Saturday’s consignment from the false grave at Whitburn Church to transport to a buyer in Newcastle, when they were attacked by two men. They stole six barrels of French brandy, and left Sam unconscious and Ashe badly hurt. The doctor has patched them up and they will recover, but an emergency meeting has been called. Andy has convened a meeting at the Jolly Sailor Inn tonight at 8 o’clock to discuss what is to be done.’
Rosie frowned, as this was bad news indeed. A number of small smuggling bands operated from the area between the River Wear in Sunderland and the Tyne River in South Shields. For the most part, they cooperated with one another, even banding together if a huge consignment was arranged. If a consignment were expected in South Shields, they would spread rumours and disinformation about a drop at Sunderland. It did not always work, but it kept the preventatives on their toes and gave them enough time to take the contraband to the many secret stores and safe houses scattered about the area. A rogue band in the area was a complication and something that was not welcome. It could endanger their whole operation and seriously jeopardise their very comfortable living.
Unlike the disreputable Hawkhurst gang who had operated on the Sussex coast 50 years ago with sheer force and terror, Rosie’s small band did all they could to avoid violence. The likes of the Hawkhurst, the Wingham and the Hadleigh gangs had operated with unprecedented power and could muster up hundreds of men within a couple of hours. They soon became a countrywide menace, taking what they wanted from local farmers and merchants and were not averse to stooping to torture and murder to achieve their ends. Their success had been due to their huge numbers and the lack of any effective policing to stop them.
Rosie’s success, however, was due to a low profile and the exercise of sheer stealth, and her loathing of violence was a well know feature of her smuggling activities. The prospect of violence, however, was forever present, and her men carried arms and operated as Batmen, but they did not work with such blatant openness as many of their counterparts along the south coast of England. Rosie would never be as rich as the smugglers of old, but she was happy as she was, and made a comfortable living. The thought of a stranger entering their vicinity and imposing his own violent rule of command was something that needed to be nipped in the bud before it got out of hand.
‘Do you know who is leading this rogue gang?’ Rosie asked with annoyance.
‘No, but there only appears to be two of them and Ashe heard one call the other, Captain.’
Penelope gave a start at this disclosure and stared at Daniel. No, it could not be! Surely, it could not be the notorious Captain Blackmore! Rosie realised the direction of her thoughts, but said nothing. It could be coincidence, but it was true that he had disappeared and the facts did fit.
Daniel continued. ‘Andy has convened a meeting at the Jolly Sailor tonight to discuss the problem and work out what is to be done. I take it you will be there Rosie?’
‘I certainly will be there,’ she added with resolve. ‘These men need to be flushed out before they ruin everything.’
Daniel left with a handmade bonnet that Rosie had made for the baby and Rosie and Hannah began to gut the fish he had left on the table. Penelope turned to her. ‘Are you thinking what I am thinking, Rosie? Do you think that Captain Blackmore has fled to the coast and is here now?’
Rosie frowned. ‘It is a possibility, Miss Penny, and we cannot discount it. If it is Captain Blackmore, you could be in danger, for if he discovers you are here, he could be out for vengeance. You must take care when you are riding out on your stallions and always take Nat, or in his absence, take one of the boys with you.’
Penelope reluctantly conceded. ‘I will Rosie, but I would be much happier if I had a trusty sword at my side.’ She sighed. ‘I must try to acquire one, and quickly.’
That evening at precisely 8 0’clock, Penelope found herself at the Jolly Sailor Inn in Whitburn Village with Rosie and Hannah, and surrounded by a group of some twenty burly, rugged men. They not only belonged to Rosie’s gang, but from the other gangs operating in the area. Amongst them were fishermen, farmers, labourers and a grave digger. Sam and Ashe were sat in the centre. Sam had his arm in a makeshift sling and Ashe sported a black eye and a bloodied face.
One of them by the name of Andy ‘Shanx’ Jarvis, a local fisherman, banged his fist on the table. ‘We must flush this scum out from his hiding place. We cannot have a repeat of the evil Cruel Coppinger here!’
&nb
sp; Penelope turned to Hannah in enquiry. ‘Who is the evil Cruel Coppinger?’ she whispered curiously.
‘Oh him, he has been dead eight years now,’ Hannah replied. He put out to sea on a windy day in a small boat in 1792 and was never seen again. Good riddance to him I say. He was a smuggler on the Cornish coast and ruled by force and terror. He controlled all the footpaths and tracks in his vicinity, and forbid local transport to travel on them at night. It is said that a member of his gang beheaded a Revenue Officer to discourage the others, and his ships terrorized the English Channel. Apparently, he lured a Revenue Cutter into shallow waters and wrecked her. He arrived in England one night in a cruel storm, married a local girl, exploited her family and took all they had. Even his son, when aged six, purposely pushed a playmate off a cliff and stood laughing at what he had done. Anyway, the man left our shores on a windy day, in the same manner he arrived. They wrote a poem about him. You must have heard it.’ Hannah proceeded to recite the poem.
Will you hear of Cruel Coppinger
He came from a foreign land;
He was brought to us by the salt water
He was carried away by the wind!
Penelope had not heard of him, but could well imagine why they would not like a repeat of the situation here. She turned her attention back to Andy, who was still speaking. ‘Sam says that there were only two of them, but we cannot have this situation escalating. Each one of us must make enquiries and try to find out who he is.’ He turned to the Sam and Ashe. ‘Can you describe this man and his accomplice?’
Ashe spoke up. ‘He was about 5’11 and of a sturdy build. He had dark hair and bushy brows and I could not quite tell in the dark, but I think he had dark brown eyes. I did notice that he wore a ruby encrusted signet ring on his little finger. His accomplice was of much the same height, but of slighter build. Unfortunately, he wore a mask, so I could not make out his features. I think perhaps he may have been fair.’
Penelope closed her eyes; it was Captain Blackmore all right. If the description had not convinced her, the description of the signet ring was enough to confirm it. She raised her voice above the general murmuring. ‘Gentleman, I think I can help you. I know who this gentleman is.’
All heads turned towards her in surprise. ‘The gentleman you are looking for is Captain Francis Blackmore. He is a felon and a scoundrel and wanted by the law. If you find him, gentlemen, there may well be a reward in it.’
Some of the party had already met Penelope in Rosie’s kitchen, but others turned suspicious eyes toward her. ‘And who might you be?’ asked a rough character, eyeing her with piercing light blue orbs. Andy leapt to her defence. ‘It is all right, Jem; this is the Lady who is staying with Rosie. It is her friend who has ventured on the Holland trip in Daniel’s place.’ The company relaxed a little. The news of Rosie’s guest had reached all their ears, but they were all unaware of who she really was. Most of the company accepted her unquestioningly as Rosie’s niece, but one or two were distrustful, including the blue-eyed Jem.
Rosie gave Jem a challenging glare. ‘This is my niece Penny, so show a little more respect. Do you understand me?’ Jem acknowledged Rosie, but Penny could tell that he had not been won over. The man was decidedly edgy and shifted in his seat, giving Penelope a most malevolent look.
Andy interrupted the awkward moment. ‘At least we are now aware of who we are looking for.’ They agreed that everyone was to actively search for Captain Blackmore and report back if they found him. Meanwhile, any runs or moving of contraband had to be done with at least two batmen present; in order to ward off any would be attackers.
‘What I want to know,’ pronounced Big Daniel, ‘is how Captain Blackmore knew there was contraband in the grave in the first place.’ A hushed silence filled the room. No one had thought of that. ‘We may have a spy amongst us, gentlemen. I cannot believe it is coincidence,’ Dan added. ‘Let us hope it is no one here.’ The group looked at each other questioningly. ‘God forbid,’ Andy replied. ‘If I discover who it is, he will feel the full extent of my wrath.’
Chapter 10
When the meeting was over, they all refilled their mugs and Penelope sat with a pint of ale in her hand. She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. It was bitter and as much as she tried, she could not develop a taste for it. However, she had other things on her mind. If Captain Blackmore was in the vicinity, she felt more in need of protection than ever. She turned to Andy and asked him if he knew of anywhere where she could buy a good quality, balanced, lightweight sword. He took a sip of his own ale and gave the matter some thought. ‘There is no one in these parts that I know of Miss,’ he replied. ‘The only person I can think of is Robert Oley the Sword Maker, but he is 30 miles away in Shotley Bridge, deep in the Derwent Valley. It would be difficult to make it there and back in one day, but no doubt possible if you started out early enough.’
Penelope was determined. ‘Then that is what I shall do. Nat is not here, so will you go with me Andy?’ she asked tentatively. Andy downed his beer and wiped his hand across his mouth. ‘Certainly, if you wish, Miss Penny, but Robert Oley is a world-renowned craftsman and sword maker to the crown. Are you sure you will be able to afford one?’
Penelope still had some money left over after her visit to London and from the sale of the items, she had retrieved from her home in Charlotte Square, but she could not be sure. She sighed. ‘Well, if I cannot, I shall just have to return without one. What do you know of this Robert Oley?’ she asked curiously.
‘I do not know a lot, Miss Penny,’ he replied. ‘I only know that they are a very old established family that came across from Solingen in Germany, bringing the secret of their fine art with them. They provide swords for the King and the military; they are light and flexible and will be very, very expensive. You may possibly have a wasted journey.’
Penelope was not deterred, she would not know unless she made the attempt. ‘I will not know until I get there and if his swords are good enough for King George, they are good enough for me,’ she pronounced roundly.
Two days later Andy, Hannah and Penny climbed into Penelope’s sleek Barouche. Despite her straitened circumstances, it had not yet been necessary to sell it, and Penelope would have to be on her last legs before she would part with Gabriel and Cisco, her two cherished black stallions. The three set off at dawn in the hope of reaching Shotley Bridge by early afternoon. Having arrived there, they bowled past a row of cottages until they arrived at the Swords Inn, which was owned by the Oley family. Andy alighted and assisted Hannah down, but Penelope jumped down in eager anticipation. The acquisition of a fine sword was nearly in her grasp. Andy turned to the ladies. ‘I do not know about you, but I am thirsty. I think we all need something to drink before we visit the Oley factory.’ Penny was impatient, but realised that they all needed some refreshment and agreed, besides she was thirsty herself.
They entered the taproom to be greeted by a large burly man with a red bushy beard. He leaned across the bar. ‘Ah strangers,’ he beamed, ‘and what will yer be havin then.’ Andy ordered a beer and two glasses of lemonade and the three sat down on a wooden Settle near the window. The Landlord looked over curiously. He was a sociable man and of a chatty disposition. ‘Travellin thru are ye? A fine day for it.’
‘I have come to purchase a sword from Oley’s,’ Penelope replied, taking a sip of her lemonade. ‘Do you know where I will find him?’
The Landlord beamed. ‘Aye Miss, yer will find no finer swords in the whole of the Kingdom. Our factory is just across the road, down the bank and beside the river. Yer can’t miss it.’ He wrinkled his brow in contemplation. ‘And what would a fine lady like yersel be wanting with a sword? I ask mesel.’
Penelope, sensing his disapproval did not bat an eyelid. ‘My brother is in Lord Nelson’s fleet, fighting Napoleon. He has heard of Robert Oley and asked if I could obtain a good quality, lightweight sword for him, so that he could collect it the next time he was on leave.’
Andy, listening to
this dialogue nearly choked in his beer and Hannah looked at her mistress aghast. Since when had Miss Penny become such a proficient liar? They could not help but admire her quickness of mind and ingenuity. Andy looked across to the Landlord who seemed to accept Penelope’s explanation without hesitation.
‘Ah, the Corsican,’ the Landlord replied solemnly. ‘A curse on all mankind that man is. However, he is keeping our boys here in work. Oley’s factory is always busy.’ He smiled at Penelope. ‘Has your brother seen any action then?’
Andy swallowed hard. It was one thing telling lies, but one lie usually led to another and he was wondering how Miss Penny was going to wriggle her way out of this one. He need not have worried, she seemed to be developing an intrepid disposition and she was ready with a reply. She smiled sweetly at the Landlord. ‘My brother fought in the battle of Santa Cruz in 1797 where Nelson lost his right arm, and unfortunately, he himself was caught by grapeshot in his leg whilst storming the harbour. I am pleased to say he recovered well and partook in the battle of the Nile the following year. Recently he accompanied the Rear Admiral on his Neapolitan campaign. Really, it is hard to keep track of him and it is hard not to worry.’
The Landlord gave Penelope a warm smile. ‘Your brother is a veteran I see. I wish him well and hope he has a safe campaign.’
Penelope was so convincing that Andy began to think that Miss Penny really did have a brother, but if she had, it was the first he had heard of it. He decided that it was perhaps time to leave before the Landlord had time to ask any more questions. He stood up and thanked his host, asking him if he would arrange attendance on the horses, and Penny and Hannah followed him out of the Swords Inn and into the sunshine. Andy was sweating. ‘Goodness, Miss Penny, you sure had me worried. Do you really have a brother?’
Lady Winterbourne's Entanglement: A Romantic Regency Adventure Page 10
