Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife Page 8

  ‘The house has not been lived in,’ Granby warned her. ‘It may well be damp.’

  ‘I do not care if the roof is falling in,’ retorted Eve. ‘I will stay in my own house tonight.’

  Her fierce glare had its effect. Granby nodded and muttered to Silas to unlock the gates.

  ‘Well,’ sighed Eve as they clattered onto the grass-covered drive and drove up to the front door. ‘This is a poor beginning.’

  ‘Mrs Brattee is going to bring coffee and some food up to the house later,’ said Granby as he helped Eve to alight. ‘However, I fear you will not be very comfortable.’

  ‘I am so exhausted now I think that as long as I can lie down I shall be happy,’ she said, following him into the dark entrance hall. She stood for a few moments, pulling off her gloves while the valet moved around the walls, lighting candles. As the feeble glow strengthened, the outline of the large panelled hall could be seen. It was furnished with a large table that filled the centre of the room and a number of solid chairs and heavy dark chests pushed against the walls.

  Martha gave a gusty sigh. ‘Ooh, miss, this reminds me of the last time we was here, when your sainted mother was alive. I was nobbut a girl then, o’ course, like yourself. My first post away from home, but I remember your mama saying how glad she always was to come back here after her travels.’

  ‘I am sure she never had to come to an un pre pared house!’ retorted Eve with asperity.

  ‘No, miss, but she wouldn’t have worried about it. A very spirited lady was your mother and one who loved adventure, God rest her soul.’

  ‘Well, I want nothing more than a quiet life!’ Eve sighed. ‘Let us see what we can do, Martha. Fetch a candlestick and we will go upstairs. I had best take the main bedroom; if my memory serves, there is a maid’s room adjoining. Ask Dan Coachman to bring up the trunks and we will search out the sheets.’

  ‘You are never going to be making up beds, miss!’ Martha was shocked. ‘Rich—I mean, Mr Granby can help me with that.’

  ‘Well, if you think I am going to sit alone down here like a great lady while you are labouring away you are very much mistaken,’ replied Eve, amused. ‘I am just as capable as you of putting sheets on a bed—well, almost—and we shall have it done in a trice. Mr Granby would be better employed in the kitchen, helping Mrs Brattee to prepare our supper!’

  Eve was thankful that the main bed chamber was still furnished and once they had removed the dust sheets she declared herself very well satisfied. She gave a cry of delight when she found her mother’s portrait propped against the elegant little writing desk and immediately charged Martha to assist her in hanging it on the empty hook above the fire place.

  ‘There,’ she said, bringing the candles closer. ‘Now I feel much more at home.’

  ‘She was a beauty, Miss Eve, and no mistake,’ remarked Martha. ‘And you have the look of her, too.’

  ‘Do I?’ Eve gazed up at the painting. She saw an elegant woman in a gold sack-backed gown standing very erect with one hand resting on a large atlas. Eve recognised some similarities, the thick, luxuriant dark hair, straight little nose and smiling mouth, but there was a confidence about her mother that she had never felt in herself: those dark eyes seemed to look out upon the world with such self-assurance.

  ‘This was painted just before her marriage,’ she murmured. ‘Even then she yearned to travel the world, whereas I—I have always been content to live quietly at home. What a disappointment I would be to her.’ She stared at the portrait for a few moments longer, then gave her head a little shake, as if to throw off some unwelcome thought. ‘Well, such musings will do no good! Open those trunks and find our sheets, Martha, we must prepare for bed.’

  There were no hangings on the tester bed, but the mattress was in place beneath its protective cover and it did not feel damp. Martha grumbled as she pulled the sheets from the trunk, but Eve was glad to be active, it helped her forget her un hap pi ness for a while.

  That night Eve dreamed Nick was still alive. In those darkest hours just before dawn, when dreams are at their most vivid, she saw him clearly, heard his ringing laugh and knew in her very core that he was near her. The disappointment, when she opened her eyes and memory returned, made her feel physically sick. Eve looked around at the unfamiliar furnishings and knew a moment’s panic. This was not Makerham, neither was it the warm sunny place of her dream, the place where Nick was. She closed her eyes again, trying to bring the dream back, but it was impossible. All that was left was a vague, half-remembered hap pi ness and she clung to it, holding on to it like a talisman, to be touched and re kindled when the demands of the day grew too great.

  As Eve made her way down stairs she thought that Monkhurst looked much more welcoming with the morning sunshine flooding in. She found Mrs Brattee waiting to escort her to the small parlour where breakfast was laid out for her.

  ‘Aggie!’ Eve smiled fondly upon the house keeper. ‘I am so sorry I missed you last night. Martha insisted that I take supper in my room, and to tell you the truth, by the time we had finished making the beds I was ready to fall asleep! You have not changed a bit, yet it must be all of ten years since I was last here!’

  ‘Aye, ma’am, that it is,’ replied Aggie, her harsh features softening a little. ‘And you a grown lady now. I’m that sorry for last night, Mrs Wylder. If only we’d known…’

  ‘It cannot be helped. We shall soon make everything com fort able.’

  ‘You are planning to stay here?’

  Eve observed the look of horror upon the housekeeper’s face and knew a strong desire to laugh. ‘Why, yes,’ she said, taking her seat at the break fast table. ‘Granby is very keen for me to go to Yorkshire, to his master’s house, but I would rather stay here, for now.’

  ‘But it’s not fit for you, mistress. It’s been empty for years.’

  Eve sipped at her coffee. ‘I made a quick inspection before coming down stairs, the house is in much better order than I dared expect. One would never believe it has been ten years since it was occupied. In fact…’ Eve fixed her eyes upon the house keeper ‘…one of the rooms—the one I used to know as the blue room—has every appearance of having been used recently.’

  ‘Well, mistress, how that can be I cannot say, I’m sure,’ replied Mrs Brattee, bustling about the parlour.

  ‘Can you not? Grandpapa always said Mama’s family had links with the free traders. I thought perhaps they might have been here.’

  There was a loud crash as the dish the house keeper had been holding dropped to the floor and shattered. Eve raised her brows.

  ‘Oh? Am I correct, then?’

  ‘No, mistress. I swear there was no smugglers sleeping in the house!’ declared Aggie, looking thoroughly alarmed.

  ‘Well, who?’ Eve said gently, ‘I do think I have a right to know who has been sleeping in my house.’ She waited, fixing her eyes upon the house keeper, who shifted un com fort ably. ‘Tell me,’ she commanded.

  ‘I can’t, mistress. I promised I wouldn’t say.’

  ‘I think you must.’

  The old woman eyed her doubt fully and Evelina tried again.

  ‘Come,’ she coaxed her gently. ‘Tell me who it was. Well?’

  The house keeper twisted her apron between her hands. ‘It was the master,’ she blurted out.

  ‘Grandpapa? But he has not been near the place for years.’

  ‘No, no, the young master,’ replied Mrs Brattee. ‘Captain Wylder.’

  Chapter Seven

  Evelina stared at her house keeper. She began to tremble and clasped her hands together, digging the nails into her palms to fight down her panic.

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘About a week since.’

  ‘Then you saw him just before he, before—’

  ‘Aye, miss.’ Aggie nodded. ‘He—he came down to talk to Silas, said that now he was wed to you it would be quite proper for him to stay at Monkhurst. Showed Silas the marriage papers, he did. Everything looked to
be in order so Silas let him in. Didn’t think there’d be any harm in it…’

  Eve jumped to her feet. ‘No harm! Richard Granby knew of this, and he did not tell me! Where is Granby?’

  ‘He’s taken the old gig to the village, ma’am. Said he would fetch me some provisions, to tide us over until Silas can take me to Appledore in the cart.’

  ‘Then he will be gone for hours.’ Eve sank down again, her brow furrowed with thought. ‘Nick, stayed here?’ she mused. ‘But why?’

  ‘That I can’t say, mistress, but Silas was never one to refuse the captain—’

  ‘Wait.’ Evelina put her hand to her head, trying to make sense of what she was hearing. ‘Did—did my husband know Silas?’

  ‘He did, ma’am. They sailed together, years ago. Silas was always talking about Captain Wyldfire and he was that pleased when the captain came looking for him, but he wouldn’t let him into the house, ma’am, not until it was all legal, like.’

  ‘Do you mean that…that C-Captain Wylder came here before we were married?’

  ‘Oh, yes, ma’am.’ It seemed that now Mrs Brattee had made her confession she was happy to talk. ‘Back in the spring he fetched up here. Silas was so surprised—’

  ‘But what did he want?’ The closed look returned and Eve said impatiently, ‘You have told me this much, Aggie I do not think you can stop now.’

  ‘He…he was asking about the free trading.’

  ‘Is Silas—I mean—does he know about such things?’

  The house keeper gave her a pitying look. ‘There’s not a family hereabouts that doesn’t, miss.’

  ‘But I don’t under stand. Why should Nick come here?’

  ‘That I couldn’t say, mistress. He stayed in the village for a week or more, went out with Silas and the boys—do you remember my sons, ma’am, Sam and Nathanial? You wouldn’t recognise ’em, they’re strap ping men now. Both married; my Nathanial has twins and Sam has a babe on the way.’

  Eve smiled reminiscently. ‘We used to play together on the Marsh, did we not? I know you did not always approve of my running wild with the boys, but Mama did not mind, and we were very young. It all changed when I was sent away to school.’

  ‘You had to learn to be a lady, Miss Eve.’

  ‘I suppose I did.’ Eve sighed. ‘But we digress. You were telling me about Captain Wylder’s visit.’

  ‘Ah, yes. As I was saying, Silas keeps a galley on the Marsh, you see, and Captain Nick went out with them—’

  ‘Wait, wait, wait!’ Eve interrupted her again. ‘Are you saying Captain Wylder helped them to smuggle goods into the country?’

  ‘Silas prefers to call it free trading,’ said Mrs Brattee, affronted. ‘They brings in a few barrels of brandy, some times a bit of Brussels lace—it’s not as though anyone hereabouts could afford to buy it, if they had to pay the duty, so it ain’t doing any harm.’

  Evelina realised it would be useless to argue and turned her mind to her main anxiety. ‘But why Nick? What interest did he have in such things?’

  ‘There’s many a seafaring man turns to free trading to repair his fortunes, mistress.’

  Eve shook her head. ‘Nick Wylder was not in need of money. I know that because Grandpapa discussed the marriage settlements with me. Not only did my husband have property, there is also a great deal of prize money invested in the Funds. So why should he come to Monkhurst?’

  ‘The captain was very interested in the house, but Silas was adamant. Apart from the odd visit from your grand papa, Monkhurst has been shut up since your parents died.’ Aggie gave a noisy sigh. ‘Very attached to your mama, was Silas. Apple of his eye, she was, so he wasn’t about to let anyone into her house. Even when your cousin, Mr Bernard Shawcross, came down here a couple o’ years ago. Silas turned him away, sayin’ he’d had his orders from your grand papa to shut the house up and shut it would remain.’ She snorted. ‘And your cousin didn’t take it anything like as well as Cap’n Wyldfire. Raged at Silas, he did; said he was family and entitled to be let in, but Silas said if that was the case he should go and get permission from your sheltered.’

  ‘Yes, but what of Captain Wylder?’ Eve prompted her gently.

  ‘The cap’n went off. Back to London, we thought. Then, next thing we knows, he comes back to tell us he’s wed—and to our own Miss Shawcross!’

  ‘But why did he not tell me he had been to Monkhurst, or that he was coming back here?’

  The housekeeper’s blank look was genuine, and Eve forbore to press her further. However, the question continued to plague Eve. She played with the gold band on her finger, turning it round and round as an answer lodged itself in her brain. Nick had not trusted her.

  Only because he did not know me, she told herself fiercely. He would have learned to trust me, in time. If only… A little scream of frustration forced its way up through her. She banged her fist into her palm. ‘Ooooh, I hate that man!’ she hissed. ‘How could he do this to me? I hate him, I hate him!’

  Tears welled up again but she fought them down. She would be strong. And she would get to the bottom of this mystery.

  However, an inter view with Silas proved even less rewarding, for the old man merely shook his head, saying he had no idea why Captain Nick had come looking for him.

  ‘But you took him out in your boat with you when he was here in the spring.’ She added quickly, ‘Come now, Silas, I know all about your…activities.’

  ‘The captain ain’t concerned with the piddlin’ little bits we bring in,’ he said. ‘He’s after bigger fish, that much I do know. But he was impressed with the galley that we uses to go in and out to the sea. Deal-made, she is, and fast in the water. Me brother Ephraim ’as another just such a one over at Dimchurch and I told the cap’n how in the old days we used her to row across to Boulogne. Can’t beat Kentish oarsman, mistress, although these days when there’s a drop we just meets the lugger off shore and brings in what we need through Jury’s Cut.’

  ‘I am sure you do, but it is still illegal, Silas, and I cannot have it.’ She regarded him steadily. ‘You must promise me to give up the trade, Silas. I will find work for you, and for Nat and Samuel, but you must not take part in any further smuggling.’

  It was not to be expected that Silas would capitulate immediately, but Eve was adamant and eventually she wrested from him a grudging promise that he would cease his illegal activities. Satisfied on this point, Eve could once more give her attention to finding out why Nick had come to Monkhurst.

  ‘What did Captain Wylder want here, Silas? How long did he stay in the house?’

  ‘No more’n a couple o’ nights. We took a dinghy out on the Monkhurst Drain, Miss Eve, that leads down to Jury’s Cut and the sea, and I showed ’im the boat house, but that ain’t been used for years.’ Silas twisted his cap in his hands and looked at Eve anxiously. ‘I didn’t think there was any harm in it, mistress, knowing the cap’n, and him now being family…’

  ‘And you trusted him, Silas?’ she said, a little wistfully.

  ‘With my life, mistress. The cap’n knew I’d follow him anywhere,’ he ended proudly. ‘When we was fighting the rebels in the American War he was never happier than when he was kicking up a dust. Unpredictable, see, like his nickname, Wyldfire. He was here one minute, then the next, he’s up and gone to Hastings.’ Silas frowned, shaking his head. ‘Not but what that was a mistake, God rest his soul.’

  There was nothing more to be learned from the old man. Evelina dismissed him, but the problem nagged at her through out the morning while she worked her way through the house, trying to decide what was required to make it a com fort able home. The early morning sun had given way to heavy storm-clouds and a blustery wind whistled through the passages, signalling a change from the dry, sunny weather of the past few weeks.

  It was noon before Eve heard the sounds of the gig returning. A glance out of the window showed her that it was raining heavily and she felt a certain grim satisfaction when she saw that Granby had omitte
d to take a great coat with him, and was soaked through. She hurried to the kitchens and found the valet drying himself off before the kitchen fire. Paying no heed to Mrs Brattee, who was busy unpacking the baskets Granby had brought in for her, Eve went straight into the attack.

  ‘Why did you not tell me my husband stayed here?’

  Granby swung round and she saw the flash of surprise before he schooled his countenance to its usual inscrutable mask. ‘I thought it might distress you, ma’am.’

  ‘I am more distressed to think you lied to me. What else have you omitted to tell me?’ she demanded. ‘What was Captain Wylder doing here?’

  ‘I believe he wished to renew his acquaintance with Mr Brattee and his family,’ said Granby, smoothly.

  ‘But he had already done that, he had visited Silas before he made Grandpapa’s acquaintance at Tunbridge Wells.’

  The valet bowed. ‘As you say, madam.’

  Eve watched him closely. ‘Captain Wylder told me he had business in Sussex.’

  The valet inclined his head. ‘That is true ma’am. The master stayed here only a few nights before going on to Hastings.’

  ‘And this…business: did it involve smuggling?’

  Granby looked shocked. ‘Captain Wylder’s acquaintances in Hastings are most respectable people, ma’am.’

  ‘I do hope so, Mr Granby.’

  He smiled a little and spread his hands. ‘You have my word upon it, Mrs Wylder.’

  ‘I shall have more than that.’

  ‘Ma’am?’

  Eve put her hands on her hips and looked at him. ‘Go and change into dry clothes, Mr Granby. And order my carriage. We are going to Hastings.’

  Granby’s smile vanished. ‘Hastings! Now?’

  ‘Yes, now. As soon as we are packed.’

  ‘But, madam, there is not the least need—’

  ‘There is every need,’ she flung at him. ‘I am anxious to know that I am not the widow of a common villain!’