All too soon, it seemed, they passed through the village of Sparsholt and the tower of the cathedral came in sight. Gladiator was lodged at one of the smaller hostelries by tacit consent. Alice shuddered at the very thought of the derisory comments sure to be made by the superior ostlers at the Royal Hotel. Refusing a private parlor, Sir Edward took Alice into the coffee room for refreshments, declaring himself famished.
Strange, then how he ate very little of the repast set before them, ham and eggs and good fresh bread with butter. Alice had made inroads on her plate before she realized.
“Oh, you tricked me.”
“Not tricked. I would never do that, but you needed to eat. When did you last taste red meat?”
Now, there was a question. She had to think. “About six weeks ago a brace of rabbits appeared at the kitchen door. Even the poachers feel sorry for us, it would appear.”
“Poachers, eh? That will have to stop.”
Her lighthearted mood vanished. “Sir Gregory had them transported, if he caught them.”
“Transported, on account of some scrawny rabbits?” I can scarce believe what I’m hearing. They wouldn’t poach twice off me if I caught them, but I draw the line at transportation. Harding would soon sort them out. My coxswain”, he added, at her puzzled look. “He has a way with defaulters.”
Shortly before noon they set out to find an employment registry. Walking past a jeweler’s on St. Peter’s Street, Sir Edward stopped to observe something in the window. Not sure just exactly what had caught his eye, she made no objection to going in to the shop with him. A few words to the assistant produced a musical box, cunningly shaped to look like a lady dancing. The mechanism produced the clear sounds of a lively waltz.
“I might buy this for Penelope as I didn’t think to bring her a gift from Portsmouth. Do you think she’ll enjoy it?”
Alice was touched by his thoughtfulness. Surely it was too expensive a trifle for a ten-year-old and the waltz was anything but suitable, but she wasn’t about to question the price. She wasn’t going to give him her neck for washing twice in the one day.
“Who wouldn’t? It’s beautiful, Sir Edward. Penelope is a very lucky girl.”
“Good. That’s settled, then.” He nodded to the assistant and handed over the required guineas, arranging to pick up the box on their way back to the gig.
Two months wages! Alice was forced to swallow hard. There had been no mention of her being paid what was owed to her and to see money being spent on such a luxury caused her a pang or two before the captain turned to face her. She thought she’d schooled her expression into something approaching normal, but he gave her an appraising glance as they left the building.
“You don’t approve of fripperies, Miss Carstairs?”
Alice felt a laugh bubbling into her throat. “On the contrary, sir, I approve wholeheartedly of fripperies such as beef and sugar and wax candles instead of tallow dips!”
“Don’t worry yourself. I’ve sufficient funds. The new cook will provide us with plenty of such fripperies, I’ve no doubt. I can remember a time myself when a meal of roast beef would have been an unheard of luxury.”
Alice sobered. “The hardships endured on naval vessels are common knowledge, but snug before our firesides in the winter’s storm we have no conception of reality.”
He gave her another appraising look. “I don’t think you’ve been so very snug, Miss Carstairs. There’s more than one kind of winter storm, is there not?”
Just as she was about to answer him Alice caught sight of a man approaching along the flagway. Oh no! Even at this distance there could be no mistaking him. A strong feeling of revulsion gripped her as she stared at the overgrown rodent. Weasel or rat, he was all the same to her. She barely repressed a shudder.
“Indeed, Sir Edward, you are so very right!”
Chapter Four
“Oh, how stupid of me!” Edward stopped short. “I forgot to ask the jeweler to inscribe Penelope’s name on the music box! If you would excuse me, Miss Carstairs, I’ll run back and ask him to attend to it. Perhaps you’d like to look at this milliner’s shop while I’m gone? I won’t ask you to go traipsing over town because of my folly.”
He lifted his hat and hurried away before she could utter a word. Alice glanced uneasily at his retreating figure and then back at the man approaching her. Scripps, of all the ill luck. She turned to escape inside the shop. Too late! Just then he caught sight of her. His lips thinned to vanishing point as he looked her up and down, the disapproval on his face turning into an outright sneer.
Horrible worm! Revulsion gripped at her stomach as her skin prickled. That dreadful day in the hall at The Priory was still too fresh in her mind for her reaction to be any less severe.
Scripps didn’t waste time with any courtesies. “What brings you to Winchester on such a day, madam governess? Perhaps you’re on your way to my office. Have you changed your mind? You’re by far too late for that, you know. I don’t take kindly to one such as you turning her nose up at me, not even if you begged me on your knees.”
What utter conceit this man had. Beg him? Beg him? Not in this lifetime. She tried to walk past him but he darted out a hand to stop her. “Too far beneath you for you to waste your breath, am I? Still think you’re Miss High and Mighty, don’t you?”
The grasp on her upper arm tightened as he pulled her closer. The smell of onions on his breath made her nose wrinkle in distaste. She stood impassive in his grip. She wouldn’t so demean herself or give him satisfaction by struggling on a public street. It was a huge effort to remain docile but fury was building within her with every second. One or two passersby gave them peculiar looks, but none made any effort to intervene. A cart rumbled and rattled past on the cobbles, creating enough noise to obscure Alice’s demand.
“Take your hand off my arm, Mr. Scripps. No one with even a pretension to civility would manhandle a woman.”
His eyes narrowed as he squeezed even more tightly. The weasel showed his yellow fangs. “Fool! You don’t quite realize with whom you’re dealing. How simple could it be? All I have to do is notice something missing from my inventory and put my concerns before a magistrate. How do you fancy a sea voyage? Botany Bay would do wonders for that creamy complexion.”
He would do it in a heartbeat. To be locked up, unable to see the sky or feel the wind on her face. She had a morbid horror of cramped spaces ever since her brother Robert had locked her in the coal cellar when she was no more than seven. A ship’s hold would be even worse, crammed with lice-ridden felons.
Alice tried to pull back, anything to get away from this vile man. The sneer on his face turned to a malicious triumph as he witnessed her consternation.
“Is something amiss, Miss Carstairs?”
Scripps let go and sprang back, staring with alarm at the imposing figure looming over him. Alice nearly cried out with relief. Rescue was at hand. Reaching out for the captain’s arm, her fingers closed more tightly than was strictly necessary as she clung to him for support. Such a sense of safety and relief washed over her. Scripps couldn’t hurt her now.
The attorney assessed the newcomer in an instant. Whatever else he lacked, he wasn’t deficient in intelligence. He whipped the hat from his head and executed a deferential bow. A sickly smile stretched his bloodless lips.
“Good day, sir. Do I have the honor of addressing Sir Edward Masterman? This is indeed a very great pleasure.”
The captain stared at him for what seemed to Alice to be a very long time. Scripps faltered under the scrutiny as the chilly wind whipped at his hair, lifting long strands to expose the bald pate so carefully hidden beneath. The smile on his face faded as the silence stretched out.
Close by a dog yapped at a street urchin, breaking the spell. The captain let out a long, slow breath before speaking. “Miss Carstairs, do you know this…person?”
Alice shivered, not because of the wind. Sir Edward sounded like a stranger, one she would have no wish to cross.
/> “Oh, yes. I beg your pardon. Sir Edward, may I introduce Mr. Josiah Scripps to you? He’s the family’s attorney. Mr. Scripps, this is Captain Sir Edward Masterman.”
His voice remained glacial. “My attorney, did you say?” Again, a long pause stretched out. “Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it? I would expect any person in my employ to remember the courtesy due to a lady.”
Scripps blenched. He looked from Sir Edward to Alice, then back again.
“What has this governess been telling you, sir? I’ve been bound by the law. I couldn’t advance money without authorization. It’s all spite, you know. I’ve never been less than courteous in my dealings with Lady Masterman. If this wretched woman has implied anything else it’s a lie she will soon regret.”
He pushed past Alice to take hold of the captain’s arm and gesture down the street. “If you’d be so kind, sir, my office is but a step yonder. I’m sure I can resolve any misunderstanding.”
Sir Edward didn’t move an inch. He fixed his regard on the impertinent hand on his sleeve until Scripps removed it.
“I wasn’t referring to Lady Masterman, Scripps and you have just now further compounded your error. I believe you owe Miss Carstairs an apology. A sincere apology. Jump to it!”
What absolute joy. Alice could hardly believe her ears. The look on Scripps’ face was enough to satisfy her every desire for revenge. If anything, Sir Edward’s voice became even more menacing as he growled,
“I am waiting, sir, as is the lady.”
Scripps looked ready to drop. “Er, yes, of course, Sir Edward. At once.” He took a pace back and bowed to Alice. “Madam, I’m most sincerely sorry to have caused you any offense. I humbly beg your pardon.” He looked anxiously at his employer, trying to gauge his reaction.
Sir Edward held out his arm to Alice. “Miss Carstairs and I have business to attend to now. You’ll wait on me at The Priory tomorrow, with your accounts. At ten. Be careful, Scripps.”
The unfortunate attorney could only bow once again as Sir Edward left him without another word. They walked in silence for several yards before Alice deemed it safe to look up. There was a grave expression in his blue eyes that surprised her.
“In my years in the King’s Navy, Miss Carstairs, I’ve had more than a passing acquaintance with bullies. It’s a type of creature I utterly despise. Did he harm you? I could see you didn’t relish his holding you so close.”
She shook her head. “No. He’s merely unpleasant. In my position I’m often open to such slights.”
He smiled briefly. “Not anymore you’re not, if I have anything to say about it. You’ve nothing further to fear from Scripps. He’s not the man for me and so I shall tell him.”
Scripps to be dismissed! She could hardly refrain from dancing on the spot. “I didn’t realize I’d painted such a bad picture of him, but I detest the man. I can’t pretend to be upset.”
“I saw for myself as I approached you what kind of creature he is. Also, it wasn’t what you said, madam, but rather what you refrained from saying. There was surely money enough in the estate and discretion enough in his orders to provide you with necessities. His reaction to you just now confirmed the suspicions I’d formed of him. You must also remember I’ve been dealing with pursers for many years. They are all alike and he’s cut from the same cloth.”
He paused, surveying the street around him, letting the sun play on his face for a moment or two. “Come on, let’s forget about Scripps. We’ll consign him to the devil and find ourselves a cook, who will be infinitely more useful to us. And after that, we’ll buy some food to take back to The Priory. What do you say to a fine ham and a few bottles of a tolerable wine?”
His mood had changed, as if he had shaken off an unpleasant thought. She could do no less than follow suit.
“What is there to say to such riches? You’ll find me well acquainted with all the shops where the best bargains are to be had. You won’t forget the wet nurse though, will you?
“No, I haven’t forgotten the wet nurse, but where am I to find one? I confess I have no idea.”
Should she dare suggest it? She looked up at him, assessing his expression. “I have one idea, but you might not like it.”
Instantly cautious, his eyes narrowed. “Why not? Where did you have in mind?”
In for a penny, in for a pound. “The poor house.”
The wary expression changed to pure shock. “The poor house? Good God, I want no immoral woman near Gabrielle. You may as well say the whorehouse and be done. You’re quite right in thinking I wouldn’t like the idea. It’s an appalling thought!”
So there were only two kinds of women, were there? He’d never met the middle ground, like herself. There but for the grace of God… She shook away the thought and stood up to him.
“Not every woman who finds herself in that situation is immoral. Just think for a moment. If a woman loses her husband and has no family to support her, what else can she do when she can no longer work herself and the birth is imminent? It’s worth a try, surely. We might just save some poor soul who would otherwise sink to destitution or worse. If you’re not happy with the idea though we can ask the midwife.”
She could see he wasn’t convinced, but nor was he totally opposed. “I confess I hadn’t thought of that, but she’d have to be clean and with no diseases. We’ll ask first at the registry if they know of anyone suitable and then we’ll try the midwife. The poor house will have to be my very last resort.”
She smiled. “That sounds very fair to me. And meanwhile here we are at our first destination.”
“And our second one is most definitely a butcher’s shop. I’m not going home without a ham at least.”
“And you shall have one, I promise.”
Sir Edward held open the door to the employment registry office. Alice passed through, her steps light, her spirits immeasurably cheered. Who needed Sir Galahad when her employer was to buy a ham?
Gladiator groaned beneath his burden on the way home. Apart from the ham and the wine there was coffee, bread, lush country butter, pickle, potatoes and beef. Candles, soap and lamp oil filled up any remaining space in the gig. Alice took personal charge of a pound of tea. They had ordered fine Welsh coal to be delivered the next day and even appointed a glazier and carpenter to attend to the repairs at The Priory with all dispatch. The captain was a whirlwind of organization, once she had steered him in the right direction.
Some things he thought of for himself, tobacco and a bottle of finest port. Even as Gladiator backed into the shafts for the trip home he handed over some coins for one more necessity to the landlord, who promised a barrel of his finest ale first thing the next morning, never fail.
* * * * *
What a damned mess this all was. Edward kept his head down, taking time to examine each column of figures carefully. He could hear Scripps shuffling from one foot to the other as he stood in front of the desk, could almost smell the rank odor of fear as the attorney waited for him to finish.
Finally, he looked up. “Scripps, tell me if you please what is the sum of one hundred guineas plus thirty two guineas?
Scripps stuttered for a moment or two. “Why…that would be a hundred and thirty two guineas, Sir Edward. Is there a discrepancy?”
Was there a discrepancy? The bloody cheek of the thieving bastard. Edward slammed down his pen. “You know damned well there is. You’ve written it down as a hundred and thirty two pounds, you villain. That’s six pounds and twelve shillings you owe me right there and that’s only on the first page of these so-called accounts. A scrubby schoolboy would have made a better fist of cheating than you have. I’ll have every penny accounted for in the last five years and you, my fine friend, shall repay it to the estate. Put your affairs in order, for you’ll be leaving home for quite a while, once I have this sorted out and laid before the magistrate!
“I’m only a poor man, sir. I’ve done my best. Sir Gregory found no fault with my reckoning.”
“In case you hadn’t realized it, Scripps, you’re not dealing with my brother any longer. I want none of your feeble excuses. Get out of my sight.”
What a foul, loathsome excuse for a man! Edward glowered at the closed door for some time after Scripps bolted out. How stupid could his brother have been, not to notice even the most glaring of lies? Or had Gregory never even bothered to look at these accounts? Edward lay back in his seat and ran his fingers through his hair in total exasperation. This would take weeks to sort out. Weeks he didn’t have, if only the admiralty would send for him. With a sigh, he picked up his pen and drew the books toward him. At least his old captain, now Lord Blaydon and an Admiral of the White, no less, had drilled into all of his lieutenants and midshipmen even, the basics of keeping strict accounts. This money rightfully belonged to his sister-in-law and Penelope. There might even be enough for a dowry for the girl, something else that Gregory had ignored. He’d find every last penny for them, be damned if he didn’t!
* * * * *
The utter joy of a slice of bread, thick with rich yellow butter. After the privations she’d endured for so long, the simple necessities of life appeared almost as luxuries during the next few days. With the arrival of the cook, their old footman and a new housemaid Alice found herself almost at a loss. The cook proved to be an excellent choice, not the least of reasons being turnips were utterly banished from the menu. Simple, wholesome food tasted absolutely delicious to a household near starving.
Francis, the footman, was known to all of them. He’d been let go for sake of economy eight months previously and now delighted in his good fortune at being re-employed. Nor was he beneath taking his coat off on his first day and chopping a load of wood into kindling for the fireplaces. Alice took him out a tankard of ale and marveled at the speed at which he reduced enormous logs to piles of matchwood. She had labored so long and so hard over the very same tasks.
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