Nicola Cornick (23 page)

She found Will up and dressed in an old frieze coat and pair of breeches which were clearly Owen’s cast-offs and had seen better days. There was three days’ stubble darkening his jaw, which Annabella inexplicably found rather attractive and, though he was still rather pale and moved carefully, he looked so much better that she found tears of relief prickling the back of her throat. His tousled brown hair added to his air of general dishevellment, but his eyes were alert and unclouded by pain or fever. He took Annabella’s hand and gave her the searching look she was coming to know well. He drew her across to sit beside him on the bed, his eyes never leaving her face.

‘I did not have the chance yesterday to thank you properly for your care of me,’ he said, with a hint of a smile. ‘I understand that you have been nursing me and it can have been no work for a lady. I am sorry—’

‘I am not made of spun sugar, sir!’ Annabella said sharply, taken aback a little by his formality. This was not the Will Weston she had come to know; that man would have taken her to task, perhaps, for her unconventional behaviour, but would not have treated her with this painful correctness.

‘No, but…’ Will frowned. ‘Forgive me, I cannot remember anything about that night…I hope that I did not take advantage, or behave improperly.’

He looked so concerned that Annabella burst out laughing despite herself.

‘For shame, sir!’ She wiped her eyes. ‘What can you be thinking of? You were a sick man, and I did nothing but try to make you comfortable! Neither of us should feel concerned by the situation!’

Will did not smile, and Annabella began to wonder what was wrong. Something was clearly worrying him.

‘I know I have compromised you, but I fear I cannot offer you marriage whilst my name is under a cloud,’ Will said, in a rush.

Annabella was silent, looking at him. The concern and misery was clear in his blue gaze; he looked as though he was begging her to understand. And the hurt and anger his words had caused melted away as Annabella realised what he was trying to tell her. His code of honour simply did not permit him to marry her when he felt he had nothing but ignominy to offer her.

She moved closer to him, until she was brushing against his body and could reach across to graze her mouth against his. She heard his breath catch in his throat as her lips traced a warm line down the strong brown column of his neck. It filled her with excitement to think that she could do this to him. She could feel his tension, the control he was desperately trying to exercise. Her fingers untied the laces of his shirt so that she could spread her palms gently against his chest, careful of the wound to his shoulder, but questing, searching, nevertheless.

‘Annabella…’ The word came out as a groan as Will fell back against his makeshift pillows.

‘It is not acceptable for you to spend the night with me and then change your mind and refuse to marry
me,’ Annabella said, her voice prim but her drifting hands demanding as they moved lower. ‘It is not the action of a gentleman, sir…I insist,’ she added softly, ‘that you give me demonstrations of your good intentions.’

Will was evidently not as weak as she had at first supposed. He moved swiftly to tumble her beside him on the bed, his mouth claiming hers ruthlessly. Their lips met and clung tenderly, sweetly, until he let her go reluctantly and sat up with a rueful smile.

‘Enough of this! I have to think, and you have to help me, and it simply cannot be done when you distract me so. That was a very wicked trick, Annabella!’

Annabella snuggled closer to him. She had heard the amusement in his tone and pressed a lazy kiss against his throat.

‘You did not want to resist me,’ she said perceptively. ‘If you had chosen, you could have done so! You wanted me to persuade you to keep your word!’

Will looked at her with his searching blue eyes. ‘You are right,’ he agreed slowly, ‘and how well you understand me already, my love! As a gentleman I should not press my suit with you for you deserve better than this. But I shall take what I want, nevertheless! I love you and I will marry you as soon as I can.’

‘It does not matter,’ Annabella said stoutly, ‘for we shall soon clear your name.’ She reached for the food basket. ‘Let’s eat,’ she said, ever practical. ‘Susan has prepared you the most marvellous breakfast!’ She gave him a naughty smile and stretched luxuriously. ‘I am so hungry…’

‘Minx!’ Will said, his mouth full of one of the
freshly baked rolls and honey which Susan had packed for him. He ate ravenously and drank a fair draught of the new milk from Owen’s herd, before settling back against the wall with a contented sigh.

‘Ah, that’s better!’ Will’s tone changed, became intent. ‘Now, Annabella, you must tell me what has been happening these three days past. I need to try to piece it all together.’

Annabella obediently related the visit from Captain Harvard and also the call made by James, Alicia and the Kilgarens.

‘James has been working on your behalf and said that he would be in touch when he had some information to impart,’ she finished. ‘Oh, Will, you do not think that this whole matter could be some outrageous mistake? I have been thinking about it the whole time and can make no sense of the matter!’

She heard Will sigh. ‘I wish I could say it was easy to explain,’ he responded heavily. ‘I truly wish I could claim it all as a misunderstanding. But I know what happened that night, Annabella.’ The conviction rang in his voice. ‘Harvard set out to kill me. When he knew that I had somehow got away, he was determined to find me and silence me. I do not know why, but I know it is true.’

‘When they came here that night, Harvard had a whole troop with him,’ Annabella observed suddenly. ‘Yet you say that there were only the two on the road…’

Will was looking at her with sudden concentration. ‘I had not thought of it before, but that is both true and also suspicious. Now I come to think of it, I heard the troop approaching up the road just after I had
reached Larkswood land. It would be interesting to know just what orders he had given to them. I imagine he intended to present them with my corpse, telling them that he and Hawes had courageously tried to arrest me whilst they waited for reinforcements to arrive, and that I had been shot trying to evade capture!’

Annabella shivered, folding her arms for warmth. ‘You mean to imply that Harvard would not have wanted an audience for what he planned,’ she said quietly. ‘But Will, this is monstrous! What can we do?’

‘Get to Oxenham as soon as James sends word,’ Will said, a little grimly. ‘There’s strength in numbers and this house is already under suspicion. Then, perhaps, we may untangle the threads and try to work out what to do. Is your carriage ready?’

‘Yes—Frank has it all prepared, but it is only a surrey, Will, little more than a cart and with nowhere to hide you!’ Annabella desperately tried to think of a solution. Suddenly a feeling of melancholy assailed her as her doubts of the previous day returned. If they could not clear Will’s name…

Will caught her wrist, pulling her to him. ‘Remember I love you,’ he said softly. ‘You are bright and brave and beautiful, and I love every little bit of you, Annabella, not just the beauty on the outside.’ He kissed her hard and let her go. ‘Now, this is what we will do…’

They spent the rest of the day playing chess to pass the time and in the evening Owen came to tell them that Captain Harvard had set a watch on the house.

‘Good morning, Captain!’ Annabella, a wide-brimmed straw hat crammed hastily on her head and
a shawl about her shoulders, sallied forth from the house with the breezy greeting on her lips. It had been somehow inevitable that Harvard had materialised as the carriage was brought out into the yard and he was surveying them all with deepest suspicion. His cold grey gaze took in Annabella’s appearance, then moved on to Susan, who was carrying a large case, and finally came to rest on Miss Frensham. The companion, trailing yards of scarves and jingling beads, was exhorting Frank to be careful with her baggage and had barely noticed the throng of men and horses coming into the yard. When she finally looked up and saw the Captain’s inimical gaze, she drew back with a start of alarm.

‘Oh, you startled me, sir! Whatever can be going on?’

Annabella took her arm in a firm grip. ‘This is Captain Harvard, Emmy—you remember him, of course?’

Miss Frensham drew herself up. She had indeed remembered the Captain. ‘I recall the gentleman bursting in twice and making rash accusations,’ she said haughtily, ‘on the first occasion at some ungoldly hour of the night! I hope, sir, that you are not about to repeat the exercise!’

Emmy could be surprisingly robust, Annabella reflected, with a slight smile, noting the Captain’s discomfort at having to upset so proper and elderly a gentlewoman.

‘I apologise for discommoding you, madam,’ he said abruptly, making a stiff bow. ‘I am only doing my duty.’

‘Still chasing shadows, Captain?’ Annabella en
quired sweetly. ‘You are wasting your time with us, I fear! Still, if you have nothing better to do…’

Harvard did not rise to this calculated provocation. ‘You are going away, ma’am?’

‘As you see.’ Annabella watched as Frank stolidly continued to put the baggage into the cart. ‘A visit to my family for a few days, that is all. It has been planned for some time. Nothing exciting, I fear…’ And she turned her limpid green gaze on the Captain.

Harvard was also watching the bags being stowed. It was obvious that there was nothing—or no one—else hidden in the cart, for there was no room. His distrustful glance swept over them all again: Frank, poker-faced as he carried on with his work, Miss Frensham glaring at him with mistrust equal only to his own, Susan waiting respectfully for her mistress to ascend into the surrey, and Annabella, still smiling with carefree charm.

‘Sir William Weston—’ he began.

‘Is not concealed about my person, sir,’ Annabella said, smiling widely, ‘as you can see. Nor is he disguised as my companion or my maid!’

Miss Frensham looked affronted. Susan giggled delightfully.

Harvard lost his temper. He seized Annabella’s arm. ‘I do not trust you, madam! It seems to me that you have something to hide—’

‘Unhand me, sir!’ Annabella said, green eyes flashing. ‘I am not to be manhandled thus! Your commanding officer shall hear of this!’

There was a rumble of wheels on the cobbles as Owen Linton’s haywain started its ponderous journey out of the farmyard, weighed down not with straw but
with a load of root vegetables on their way to market. In the next field, his cowhand was guiding the herd out of their pasture and down the track towards Oxenham. In a flash, Harvard had dropped Annabella’s arm and swung round on the cart.

‘Stop that cart!’ He ordered. ‘You men, bayonet those vegetables!
That
will be where he is hiding!’

Susan started to giggle uncontrollably as the sailors began to stab randomly at the turnips. There was an outraged shout from Owen as the vegetables started to roll out of the back of the cart under this assault. Turnips and swedes tumbled to the ground and surged across the yard in a yellow tide. Owen was struggling in the grip of two burly sailors, swearing and shouting. And no one was hiding under the vegetables. As the cart emptied and the blank space stared back at him, the colour suffused Harvard’s face in a rich tide. Annabella was watching him with the sort of detached interest that could only add to his embarrassment and his men were sniggering behind their hands.

‘Well,’ Annabella said brightly, into the pregnant silence, ‘we will be on our way then, Captain. I trust that you will be compensating Mr Linton for the damage to his crop. If you are fortunate, he may permit you to take some of the less-damaged vegetables for your supper! Good day!’

Harvard watched the surrey down the road before ungraciously ordering his men to help a grumbling Owen pick up his load. A few fields away, the cowhand was driving the animals through the gate to a buttercup meadow. But no one was watching him, and
no one saw the figure that crept away from the comfortable cover of the cows’ heaving flanks, slipped along the hedgerow and disappeared in the direction of Oxenham.

‘O
h, it was priceless!’ Annabella said, several hours later, wiping her eyes. ‘There was Owen, his face as black as thunder, and Miss Frensham muttering that Captain Harvard was clearly deranged, and turnips rolling everywhere…And I have always wanted to say ‘unhand me’! It’s such a theatrical phrase!’

‘Poor Harvard,’ James said, with patently false sympathy. ‘He must have known that there was something afoot! You clearly have a talent for pretence, Annabella!’

‘Well,’ Annabella said pertly, ‘if I need to earn my living I could always go on the stage, I suppose!’

‘Rather than open a confectioner’s?’ Will murmured, with a bright, enquiring look. ‘Will you, perhaps, settle for a smaller enterprise? A husband and family?’

Annabella’s lips twitched. ‘A greater enterprise, you mean! But the whole idea was of your making, if the truth be told! How did you fare with those cows, Will?’

‘They were very amiable creatures,’ Will said. ‘So what do we do now, James?’

They were all gathered in the library at Oxenham, James and Alicia, Caroline and Marcus and now Annabella and Will. Alicia had drawn the curtains against the fading light and prying eyes, and they were all sitting in a circle before the fire.

The first thing that Will had been at pains to explain was Harvard’s unprovoked attack, and his determination to find Will and contrive his death. Despite Annabella’s assertions that they all knew and understood, Will clearly felt he had to make his friends believe in his innocence. He had sat defiantly staring them down, almost daring them to contradict him. But no one had suggested that they disbelieved him, and gradually the tension had left him.

Then James had said feelingly: ‘You’d damn well better be innocent, William, for I’ve spent the best part of two days buttering up that old duffer Cranshaw on your behalf, and Marcus has had to go to Portsmouth, a town he swears he hates more than any other in the country! We don’t expect to be told now that it’s all a mistake and you’re about to turn yourself in!’

There was a pause, then they all burst out laughing.

‘I pity you trying to pump Cranshaw for information, James,’ Will said with feeling. ‘The fellow’s a tight as a clam when it comes to business!’

A grin lightened James’s face. ‘Oh, at first he was reticent, but after we had broached our second bottle he became more loquacious!’

‘James!’ Alicia was trying to look disapproving. ‘I
hope you are not suggesting that you got poor Admiral Cranshaw drunk just to gain information!’

James gave her an unrepentant smile. ‘All’s fair in love and war, as they say, my sweet, and this is definitely war!’

‘So…?’ Alicia invited.

‘Well…’ James settled more comfortably and stretched his legs out before him ‘…Cranshaw said that someone at the Admiralty—unfortunately he was not quite drunk enough to name them!—had been stirring up trouble by raising the old rumours against Will. The Lords of the Admiralty, more with the intention of exonerating Will than anything else, decided to ask him to come in to answer the charge, all very gentlemanly and without any hint of arrest. Harvard was the man they chose for the commission.’ James shifted slightly, his dark gaze resting on the intent faces of his audience. ‘Now this is where the tale becomes particularly interesting. According to Cranshaw, Harvard was violently opposed to the plan. He said that the rumours were nothing but spite with no basis in fact, and that Will should not be called on to defend himself against such base allegations. He was most vehement on the subject, Cranshaw said.

‘And yet,’ Marcus continued softly, ‘a few days later, Harvard tried to shoot Will dead—with only one witness to the deed, and a witness, moreover, he trusts to support him. They failed and then tried to hunt Will down to kill him…It is far removed from Harvard’s impassioned pleas to his masters at the Admiralty that Will is innocent of all iniquity!’

‘It doesn’t make sense!’ Caroline said despon
dently. ‘How can the man argue in Will’s favour one minute and try to murder him the next?’

‘And then brand him a criminal and outlaw!’ Annabella finished indignantly.

Everybody exchanged glances. There was silence.

‘My head is spinning,’ Alicia complained, voicing the feelings of all of them. ‘I feel as though I am looking at a mirror which turns everything back to front—’

Marcus gave an exclamation. ‘Back to front! Of course!’ He looked around their intent faces, his eyes suddenly bright with suppressed excitement. ‘There is one possible theory that makes sense!’

Everybody waited patiently.

‘Suppose for a moment,’ Marcus continued in the same thoughtful tone, ‘that the rumours are true.’ There was a quick, collective intake of breath. ‘I do not mean that they are true in relation to Will,’ he added quickly, seeing the militant light in Annabella’s eyes and smiling a little, ‘so there is no need to glare at me! But suppose that there is a grain of truth in them. It is often the way with gossip and scandal. It has its origins in fact, but the real details become obscured.’

‘I collect that you mean to imply that the rumours relate not to Will but to someone else,’ Annabella said carefully, feeling her way towards the solution Marcus was proposing.

Marcus leant forward. ‘Precisely,’ he said in the same quiet tones. ‘I suggest that we have been looking at this the wrong way up—or back to front, as Alicia said. We have assumed that the rumours are untrue, because we know that Will never abandoned battle as
he has been accused. But what if it was true that a Navy captain
had
turned tail in the heat of battle and left his colleagues to fight on alone? And how if that captain was not Will Weston, but Charles Harvard?’

‘And Harvard,’ James added, ‘knows what he has done, knows that he was safe whilst the rumours blamed Will, and knows that any investigation might exonerate Will and point the finger of blame elsewhere!’

‘So,’ Marcus finished, ‘he tries to remove Will first, and with him the possibility of the truth coming out!’

There was a silence.

‘Oh Marcus, what a splendid idea!’ Caroline burst out, her eyes shining.

Marcus smiled modestly. ‘It is good, isn’t it! The point is whether or not it could be true!’

‘Would it be possible, Will?’ Alicia asked, a little hesitantly. ‘I mean, would it be possible for one ship to be mistaken for another in the heat of battle? After all, most of us have no idea of how a sea battle is conducted!’

Will had been sitting back in his chair whilst Marcus propounded his theory. His pose was relaxed but his gaze was watchful, although a blue light had started to blaze in his eyes at the suggestion of Harvard’s culpability. Now, he put his empty glass down gently and sat up.

‘Yes, it’s possible,’ he said slowly. Everyone caught their breath. ‘But unlikely,’ he finished. Everyone sighed. Seeing their blank, disappointed faces, Will tried to explain. ‘Even in a naval battle where you’re intent on your own ship’s position and that of the enemy, even with all the smoke that’s generated
and the hideous noise and confusion, a good captain is aware of the tactical movement of the fleet around him. If a ship of the line were to slip away and abandon the action, it would surely have been noticed!’

He sat back and took Annabella’s hand in his, aware of the way in which her face had lit up with hope at the possible explanation, and fallen with disappointment a moment later.

‘But surely that’s the point,’ she said, after a moment’s silence. ‘Someone
did
see something suspicious and that is where the rumour came from! Maybe not something conclusive, such as a ship just sailing away, for no doubt that would have ended in court martial! But something odd, something questionable…’

‘You are very hot in my defence, my love,’ Will said with a slight smile. ‘Believe me, if I could make the facts fit…! But what of Harvard’s crew? They would have known if he had abandoned the fight!’

‘Not necessarily!’ Annabella urged. ‘Why, I read in the papers only recently of a ship that had run aground on Lundy Island when its entire crew were convinced it was still off Cornwall! They did not even believe the lighthousekeeper who rescued them when he told them where they were! So you see, Harvard’s crew might never have realised precisely where they were!’

‘I had no idea that you had such an interest in naval matters, Annabella,’ Alicia teased slyly, watching her younger sister colour up.

‘But Annabella’s right,’ James interposed. ‘It could happen!’

Will was still looking sceptical. ‘I’d like to believe it,’ he said slowly, ‘but—’ He broke off.

‘What is it?’ James asked sharply. ‘You’ve remembered something, haven’t you, Will?’

‘It may be nothing,’ Will said slowly, ‘but Harvard and I were next to each other in the line. Towards the end, when it was clear that all was lost, I went to the aid of the
Bellepheron,
which was under heavy fire. Harvard broke line at almost the same time. I did not see where he went, for there was much smoke and a mist coming up, but I assumed he had gone to the rescue of another ship just as I had. That was what he
said
he had done.’

‘But surely the captain of the
Bellepheron
could exonerate you—?’ Annabella began, only to break off at the bleak look on Will’s face.

‘Dunphy died,’ Will said, ‘and the ship went down.’

There was a gloomy silence.

‘Then surely we could find out which ship
Harvard
claimed to have helped,’ Caroline said bracingly, after a moment, ‘and prove that he did no such thing! I’ll wager that he lost his nerve and chose to run, pretending later that he was answering a call for help from another ship.’

‘And then he hears that there are rumours that one of the ships was seen breaking the line, and is afraid that he will be correctly identified as the defaulter. So he decides to blame you, Will,’ Marcus continued. ‘He simply reverses your roles. In fact, I’d guess he was one of the first to stir the scandal, subtly of course, suggesting by implication that you had deserted. Nothing could be proved either way, for the
Bellepheron
’s captain is not alive to defend you, and equally no one identified Harvard as the real deserter.
But the mud sticks, and Harvard knows that for as long as you are suspected, he is safe.’

‘It’s a good theory,’ Will admitted, a little grudgingly. ‘But we will never be able to prove it!’

‘Could we get Harvard to implicate himself, perhaps?’ Caroline suggested hopefully.

‘A trap…’ Marcus and James looked speculatively at each other. ‘Perhaps if we were to tempt him by letting him know Will is here—’

‘No!’ Annabella spoke strongly, her fingers clutching at Will’s sleeve. ‘It’s too dangerous! Harvard does not trust us, he will be suspicious, wary…It’s too much of a risk!’

‘I’m afraid you’re correct, Annabella,’ Will said reluctantly, covering her fingers reassuringly with his own. ‘Harvard would sense the trap, I think, if we were to use me as bait. No, there must be another way, though I cannot for the life of me think of it for now!’

‘Do you remember which ship Harvard claimed to have rescued?’ Annabella asked tentatively, determined to exhaust every possible possibility. ‘If we could find the captain—’

‘It was Dowland in the
Détente
,’ Will said thoughtfully, ‘but he is away at sea and has been since ’14—’ He broke off, seeing the triumphant look which flashed between James and Marcus. ‘What is it? What have I said?’

‘That’s where you are wrong, old chap,’ Marcus said, with satisfaction. ‘Dowland isn’t at sea any more. He’s in Portsmouth. I should know—I saw him yesterday!’

This riveting piece of news seemed to call for an
other drink, and James refilled their glasses. The atmosphere in the room had lightened considerably.

‘Why did Dowland never say anything?’ Caroline enquired. ‘If our theory is correct, one would have expected him to have exposed Harvard’s fabrication.’

Will was shaking his head. ‘You must remember, Caro, that Dowland probably never even knew what Harvard was saying. Immediately after Champlain, Dowland was given another ship and sent to the Indies. The rest of us were stationed off Canada until the end of hostilities. Until now, no doubt no one has asked him the right questions!’

‘And neither did I yesterday,’ Marcus admitted. ‘But the one thing I did ask him was to come up to Oxenham as soon as he was able. I thought he might be able to help us. He arrives tomorrow!’

‘So, James, do you have any further surprises to spring?’ Will asked. He had changed completely, his blue eyes sharp and alert, the pain in his shoulder forgotten in this new excitement.

James grinned, catching the atmosphere. ‘Just one! I had been trying to find a witness to Harvard’s actions on the night he shot you, Will. And against all the odds, I have got one!’

The news was electrifying. ‘But who on earth would be out at that time of night?’ Annabella marvelled.

‘Not you, then, my love?’ Will asked, with a teasing look which suggested that he remembered Annabella’s peregrinations at two in the morning.

James laughed. ‘As it happens, Will, I know you will appreciate the poetic justice of this! You may remember that you were after a certain poacher who
had dealt heavy losses to both the Challen and Oxenham estates. Well, last night we caught him! And last week he was in the vicinity of Larkswood…So, it is fortunate you did not catch him on the night you met Annabella!’