Sarah's Story

by Helen Susan Swift

  Now, you may think me foolish to act so. I know that any girl in my position should have leaped at the chance to marry such a man as Captain Chadwick. If you compare our positions, you will see why.

  I was the daughter of an inn-keeper with no money, no education and no prospects.

  He was a captain of Volunteers, holding the King's commission and doubtless with some sort of property and wealth behind him.

  I was twenty years old and already a widow. If I did manage to find a local husband he would be a fisherman or a skipper at best. If I did not, I was destined to work for my bed-and-board in the inn until my mother died in twenty, thirty or forty years, by which time I would be old, worn-out, grey and useless.

  So you see, I had little choice in the matter. You can also see that the romantic idealism with which I viewed my liaison to David was gone. I did not have any such rosy-hued notions about Captain Chadwick; he was much older than me and I had no illusions about mutual love. I wanted security in my life and he, whatever his claims about concern for me after David's death, wanted a young wife to bounce in bed and show off in the streets of Dublin or wherever he happened to be posted.

  Well, I had no qualms about being shown off and I could cope with the bedroom antics as long as he was not too old for me. It was then that I remembered Kitty and her sweetheart at the old lighthouse. I recalled my jealousy at her romping while I was left with the frustrated memories of a man whose sole attempt to seduce me had been clumsy and unwelcome at best. I was twenty, remember, and a normal healthy woman with a normal healthy appetite. Maybe Kitty had a younger man, but I had one with substance and position. I would be a captain's wife, one of the most high-ranking women in the regiment and all those self- important women who had turned up their noses at me at my last wedding had better learn manners before my next or I would use my new rank to make their lives as unpleasant as possible.

  I grinned at that thought, leaning back against the warm standing stone. At the time of my first wedding I had tried to disregard the attitude of those women. Now I was determined to make them pay for their long noses and frosty demeanours. As the captain's wife I would outrank them as surely as Captain Chadwick outranked their husbands. Oh I would make them dance attendance on me!

  I tossed my hair at that thought and stretched, looking out to sea where there were the usual quota of sails and a pestilential revenue cutter nosing around just offshore. With that cutter so busy, our free traders would find it hard to bring their cargoes in and Mother's profits would fall. French brandy was a favourite among all the Overners who dropped in, particularly the soldiers and naval officers and Mother always bumped the price up for their benefit.

  I stood up and embraced the Long Stone. It had stood me in good stead again, helping to order my thoughts and make a decision. Now I had to find out all I could about Captain Chadwick so I could be a loving and dutiful wife to him, as long as he was a considerate and faithful husband to me, of course. If Kitty could cuddle up to some handsome man, then so could I.

  The path back to the Horse Head seemed lighter than that I had traversed on my outward journey. I nearly sang as I walked, nodding to a number of farm servants as they wound their weary way homeward, and I even admired the fields of grain. This war may have been a bit of a nuisance with all the alarums and scarums, but without it Wight would not have been half so prosperous. Most of the local proprietors including Hugo Bertram had increased their acreage of wheat to sell to the navy and Bertram had even built his own mill to make flour. Only the lands of Limestone Manor were neglected: that place was a horrible blight on the landscape. Thinking of Limestone Manor reminded me of Charles and how I had to create a place to hide him in case my latest husband-to-be decided to become more efficient in his search for the supposed smuggler.

  I thought then that one did not have total loyalty to one's husband. He was only one factor in life, as I would be only one factor in his. Satisfied with my new standpoint that was so different to my feelings for poor David, I walked into the Horse Head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mother looked up as soon as I entered. I think she had some sort of power that helped her to know when her daughter was around.

  'Well Sarah,' she said quietly, 'have you had time to think?' She did not comment on the tear stains that must have been obvious on my face.

  'I have,' I said, 'and my answer will be yes.'

  Mother nodded. 'Captain Chadwick will be pleased,' she did not that if she was pleased or not. 'Have you had sufficient time? You do not have to give your answer right away.' She stepped closer to me and lowered her voice. 'Don't say yes if you are unsure.'

  'I have thought about that,' I said, 'and I think the advantages outweigh any disadvantages. He and I will have to discuss the details first and then we will discuss and set the date and location, which will be the chapel at Knighton Hazard.'

  Mother's smile was rueful. 'He may not agree to that.'

  'In that he has no choice,' I said. 'You have always said I am a stubborn hussie and a stubborn hussie I will remain.'

  Mother laughed at that, although her eyes were not as happy as I would have preferred. 'I fear that poor Captain Chadwick may not have the dutiful and obedient wife he may wish for.' For a reason I did not then understand, she looked quite relieved at the thought.

  Mr Howard was not at the Horse Head at the time. He came in later and once I had attended to Chocolate he ordered his supper and retired to a corner table in the tap-room, from where he surveyed our customers without speaking to anybody.

  'Are you all right, Mr Howard?' I asked him. 'You look very worried these past few days.' I did not add that his French friends had been notable by their absence. One does not rub salt into the wound of a paying guest, whatever his political sympathies.

  Mr Howard looked up. I swear he had aged since he arrived at our inn. There were deeper grooves running from the corners of his mouth to his nose and I was adamant that his hair was a touch more grey. 'I am not sure that my mission here will be a success,' he said frankly, 'and that grieves me greatly.'

  I did not say that I knew what his mission was and could not share in his hopes. Although I felt sympathy with him as a man, I had no desire to have French soldiers tramping all over my island. It was bad enough with the redcoat regulars and the Volunteers. Except for Captain Chadwick of course, who was the finest gentleman ever to don the King's uniform.

  Even as I thought the name, the good Captain walked into the inn.

  'Please excuse me,' I gave Mr Howard my second best curtsey and fled toward my future husband.

  'Ah, Miss Bembridge,' Captain Chadwick greeted me. 'Have you made your decision yet? There is no rush, but it would be good to have all the arrangements made before the regiment sails for Dublin.'

  I took a deep breath. 'Captain Chadwick,' I said, 'are you certain that you wish to spend the remainder of your life with me? I am only an inn-keeper's daughter…' I had to stop then as he put his finger against my lips.

  'If I was not certain,' he said, 'I would not have asked.'

  'In that case, sir,' I gave my best ever curtsey, which meant my skirt helped brush the floor while my head was roughly level with Captain Chadwick's belt buckle, 'I would be honoured to accept.'

  Captain Chadwick's smile was sufficiently broad to be seen from France, yet alone in that smokey tap-room. 'The honour, my dear Miss Bembridge, is all mine.' He stepped into the centre of the room and raised his voice to a parade-ground roar. 'I wish to announce that Miss Bembridge has this moment consented to become my wife. In honour of the occasion I will buy drinks for everybody in this august establishment for the next hour.'

  Apart from one silly old josser commenting that it was June, not August, my dear Captain Chadwick's offer met with a spontaneous rush to the counter before he changed his mind. Such is the way of the world that free drink was more the topic of conversation than my impending wedding.

  'The happy couple!' My mother raised a glass to toast us, alth
ough I noted that she did not offer to pay for the brandy she pretended to down before pouring it back into a jug. Some unsuspecting customer would drink that later, so doubling Mother's profits for brandy she probably bought for a song in the first place. Honestly, they say that the French War increased the National Debt. If they had put my mother in charge of the Treasury Great Britain would have come out of the war with a healthy surplus, even if all the inhabitants of the country were permanently inebriated.

  'We will get married in Knighton Hazard,' I said that loudly so there was no room for doubt. 'It is a habit I have.'

  My humour was not lost on Captain Chadwick, whose laugh echoed around the tap-room. The only person who did not join in the laughter was Mr Howard, who sat in his corner seat and watched me through quiet, brooding eyes.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I was always aware that Mr Howard was constantly watching me. He had been doing so since the first day that he had arrived. His eyes were friendly, musing, sometimes even amused, yet still quite disturbing as they followed my every movement around the tap-room and in the stables.

  I wondered if he knew that I had seen him in Limestone Manor. If so, he kept very quiet about it, as did I.

  Every morning Mr Howard would leave the inn on horseback and most nights he would return late. When I tended to Chocolate I often noticed his legs spattered with mud. They were particularly filthy the day following my engagement to Captain Chadwick.

  'You are riding Chocolate hard, sir' I said, rubbing her fetlocks.

  'I can do that when it is needed,' he said.

  'Mr Howard,' I tried to forget that he was a Frenchman. 'May I be able to help you in your quest? I have noticed you riding all over Wight, day after day, and occasionally visiting Limestone Manor that you asked about.'

  'I am searching for somebody,' Mr Howard said.

  'You have been more than kind to me since David's death,' I was learning to be as blunt as Mother when the time was right, yet I could smooth my words with sugar when it would help. 'I know most everybody in this part of the island and can find out about the rest. If you tell me for whom you seek I can try and help.' I still do not know how genuine my offer was. My loyalties were torn you see, between my patriotism to Great Britain and my growing realisation that people who cared for me mattered every bit as much as some ethereal feeling for king and country. Yet I did not want Boney's armies marching across Wight.

  'The person I am searching for is not a local,' Mr Howard said. 'I am not even sure that he is alive.'

  'Does he have a name?'

  'Charles Louis Durand,' Mr Howard told me immediately, with no expression. He said the name as the French pronounced it, as Charles had pronounced it himself.

  'That is a French name,' I spoke without thought to hide the sudden turmoil within me.

  'It is a French name,' Mr Howard did not drop his gaze.

  I decided to press a little harder. 'Is that the same man that the Volunteers are searching for?'

  'That's the man,' Mr Howard said quietly.

  'You are not in the army,' I said. 'Are you an Exciseman?' I was being as blunt as my mother; perhaps that was my new maturity as the pending wife of a captain of Volunteers.

  'I am not an Exciseman,' Mr Howard said.

  I did not ask what he was. I told him instead. 'You are some sort of official,' I said. I did not say that I knew he was an official of the French. I did not want him to know that I knew. Perhaps Mr Howard, as he called himself, was keeping his eyes on me, but I was also keeping a watch on him in my own way. Once I was married to Captain Chadwick I would tell my husband and he would have this enigmatic, quiet-eyed and probably very dangerous man arrested, although I certainly did not want him executed. If I had, I would have reported him many days ago. As the wife of Captain Chadwick, I hoped I would have sufficient influence to save his life.

  Mr Howard nodded. 'I am as you say,' he agreed. 'I am some sort of official.' His eyes never strayed from mine. 'If you do hear anything of Charles Durand,' he said, 'or if you hear any rumours or tales of a stranger hiding on the island, could you please let me know? It is very important to me.'

  I nodded. 'I will tell you,' I said. I think that was the only lie I have ever told in my life and I hated to say it. Poor Mr Howard looked so worried and forlorn that I desperately wanted to help him. If it had been anybody else but Charles, I may well have told him everything, even if that meant breaking one of the cardinal codes of the Chalkheads: what happens in the Back of Wight stays in the Back of Wight.

  'Thank you,' Mr Howard reached out and squeezed my hand. 'You are a good girl, Sarah, a good, kind girl.'

  At that moment I hated myself more than I had ever done before.

  Chapter Eighteen

  'So this is your special place?' Captain Chadwick stood in the shadow of the Long Stone and admired the view. I stood a few paces away and admired Captain Chadwick.

  'This is where I come when I have to think things out, and where I come with special people.'

  He was certainly older than David. 'How old are you, Captain Chadwick?'

  'I am thirty-three next summer.' Captain Chadwick was taller than my last husband as well, and perhaps an inch or two broader. Really he was a most distinguished looking man. I allowed my eyes to roam down his body, so trim within his tight scarlet tunic.

  'No,' Captain Chadwick must have read my thoughts. 'I do not wear a stomacher or anything else to keep my shape.' He looked at me with a smile. 'I am as fit now as I was when I was your age.'

  'Thank you, Captain,' I said.

  'Did you bring Lieutenant – did you bring David here?' Captain Chadwick asked.

  I nodded, trying not to make comparisons.

  Captain Chadwick put his hand on my shoulder. 'This might help you forget,' he said, and kissed me. It was not the most passionate of kisses; rather it was soft and gentle, a kiss by a man who was used to kissing; a man's kiss rather than a kiss by an eager boy.

  I felt myself respond, opening my mouth beneath him and gasping as his tongue flickered into my own.

  'Why Captain Chadwick,' I said, more in surprise than shock.

  'That is rather formal, don't you think?' Captain Chadwick said. 'Would William not be better between husband and wife?'

  'We are not husband and wife yet,' I reminded, for in truth I was rather concerned that this wedding would not come about. I still believed that no captain of Volunteers would see anything advantageous in marrying an inn-keeper's daughter. Our social differences were quite extreme.

  'In all but name,' William said with the most amiable of smiles. 'And I should call you Sarah, if you would permit me?'

  'I would much prefer that to Miss Bembridge,' I said. 'It feels much more comfortable.' And more secure, I thought. No stranger would call a lady by her Christian name. It was a small step toward our ultimate objective. To be a captain's wife! That was far beyond my greatest dreams.

  William stepped back once more and surveyed the landscape. He pointed to the great ruined tower that Hugo Bertram was in the process of building at the highest height of his policies. The ugly structure overlooked the chapel and house of Knighton Hazard. 'What on earth is Hugo creating there?'

  I noted he and Mr Bertram were on first name terms. 'It is a folly,' I said. I did not wish to say more than that.

  'I see,' William said. 'Is there a point to it? Is he going to stand on top and watch for the French, perhaps? Or maybe use a horn to call in his cattle?'

  'No,' I said. 'It is rather a sad story. Mr Bertram is building it as a celebration that his wife left him. They did not have the happiest of marriages.'

  William's laughter was possibly out of place yet better than most reactions. 'Well, my sweet Sarah,' he said, 'we must make sure that we have no need to build such a folly.'

  'Indeed not, William,' I said, and linked my arm with his. At times like these it was good to know that one's husband-to-be had a sense of humour and did not take other people's misfortunes as a sign
of his own future.

  He hugged me close and released me, waving his hand around the Back of Wight that was spread out before us.

  'We believe there is a Frenchman hiding somewhere out there,' he said. 'I do hope we can catch him before the regiment is sent to Dublin. It would be a feather in our caps and a blow, albeit a minor one, to Bonaparte.' He looked at me and placed his hand on my shoulder in gentlemanly, husbandly concern. 'I am worried when you walk alone in the island with that ruffian on the loose, you see.'

  'Oh,' I said for I was touched by his genuine concern. For a moment I even contemplated telling him about Charles and getting this thing all cleared up. No, I thought; wait until we are married and I know him better. A man may listen and take heed of his wife's advice when he will only seek to impress his sweetheart, affianced or not.

  'I will be all right,' I said. 'I know many people in Wight and we look after our own here.' I ran my hands over the Long Stone. 'This is my island you see; and this is my stone; where I belong.'

  'You will soon belong to the Regiment, as I do.' William told me. 'We may return to the island sometime, when this war is over and Bonaparte lies in his grave.'

  That sobered me I can tell you. The thought of travelling to Dublin or some such exotic place was exciting, yet I had not truly contemplated the other side of that spinning coin. I had only ever known Wight; it was where I belonged and I did not know how I would survive without Mother and Molly and Captain Nash, Buckett and my Long Stone. Even Kitty, with her foibles and man-hunger, my dearest friend that I loved to hate to distraction, emulate and scorn, was as close to me as any sister. How could I live happily when I was parted from them? I wondered what dear Kitty was doing at that moment, what poor unsuspecting boy she was seducing, and what tales she would have to tell when next I saw her.

  'Oh come, come.' Even though he was a man, William had noticed my change of mood and, surprisingly, had guessed the reason. 'I will bring you back as often as convenient, my dear Sarah. Why, once you have seen Dublin and London or even Edinburgh, Athens of the North or perhaps France when we occupy that country, you may not wish to return to this green little island.'