Sarah Mallory - Pride in Regency Society - Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife / The Earl's Runaway Bride

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 interview 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 boathouse, 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 throughout the morning while she worked her way through the house, trying to decide what was required to make it a comfortable 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 omitted to take a greatcoat 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!’

‘Mrs Wylder, I beg of you, at least postpone your journey until this storm has eased.’

Richard Granby stood beside Eve in the doorway, looking out with dismay at the rain that lashed the house while the coachman packed the trunks securely, water running from the brim of his hat and his oiled coat.

‘I am determined to reach Hastings today,’ she retorted. ‘You may ride in the carriage with Martha and me, if you do not wish to get another soaking.’

The valet declined the offer, and clambered miserably up beside Dan Coachman.

‘He is afraid I shall interrogate him further,’ remarked Eve cheerfully as she climbed into the carriage.

Her maid sniffed as she settled herself beside her mistress. ‘Mr Granby was only trying to save you unnecessary worry, Miss Eve.’

‘Is that what he has told you, Martha?’

‘No, madam, but I know he’s a good man.’

‘Is he?’ Eve looked closely at her maid. ‘You seem to be uncommon friendly with Richard Granby.’

Martha flushed, but she said stiffly, ‘Given his position and mine, it is only natural that we should talk.’

Eve forbore to tease her. ‘Of course it is,’ she said, turning her mind back to her own worries. ‘And if Mr Granby has passed on anything concerning my husband’s death, I would like you to tell me, Martha. I shall not be easy until I know what sort of business it was that took my husband away from Makerham in such haste. I hope we may find some answers at Hastings.’ She leaned back against the thickly padded seat. ‘And I confess I want to see where Nick spent his last days,’ she murmured to herself.

The wind howled around them, rocking the carriage while the heavy rain drummed on the roof and pattered against the windows. The pace was necessarily slow. The storm grew worse as they neared the coast and it was a relief to drive through Rye, for although the cobbles shook the coach until Eve’s teeth rattled in her head, at least the houses gave them some shelter from the buffeting winds. The carriage slowed to a stop and Eve leaned forwards to peer out of the window. A horseman had stopped beside them and was shouting something at the coachman.

Eve let down the window. ‘What is it, is there a problem?’

The rider turned to look at her, touching his hand to his sodden hat.

‘Aye, ma’am. The Winchelsea road is closed. They wanted to take advantage of the dry weather to repair the road, but the dam—dashed fools didn’t start it until yesterday. Now the grass verge is too wet to take the weight of a carriage and there’s only room for a horse to squeeze by.’

‘Is there another route?’ asked Eve.

The rider nodded. ‘Aye, you can go via Broad Oak Cross and then south through Battle.’