Chapter Thirty-One
Claymore's Folly
Daniel nodded, completely understanding the other man's deep frustration while knowing that such an unavoidable fate also loomed large in his own future. "It would be my pleasure, Sir. Your Mary has always been one of my favourite ladies."
The admiral chuckled. "She always did have an excellent eye for the good-looking ones. She often insisted I bring home my latest crop of naval recruits."
"Thank you, Sir. Then we must not keep the lady waiting." Daniel smiled as he turned to pay off their cab drivers, moving aside to allow several of the Admiral's servants to collect their luggage and carry it inside.
As the cabs drove away, he walked up the steps to the old man's side. The two sea dogs shook hands before they turned to follow the women and children who had already been shown into the house.
At the same moment, a cab came flying around the corner, causing consternation to ripple through the square's sedate pedestrians as they were forced to dodge out of its path. The horse's iron-shod hoofs sparked fire from the cobblestones as the vehicle skidded across the road toward almost certain doom before correcting its headlong path. It swayed alarmingly on its springs and if it hadn't been for the excellent skills of the driver, the cab would have capsized and dumped any passengers out into the street or worse.
But the man managed to drag back on the reins in time to bring the swaying cab to a shuddering halt before the steps. The door flew open even before the horse had settled back into its traces or ceased to toss its head in agitation as the cab's sole passenger jumped out.
"Blast!" Lucius declared roundly and with feeling when he saw the two men waiting and watching him. "Greetings, Daniel. I saw the Carolyn had already berthed and knew you'd beaten me. But the wide margin between us I find both offensive and deeply unacceptable."
He raised two fingers to the brim of his sea cap. "Admiral, it's good to see you again, Sir."
"About time you showed up, young man," the old man huffed, trying to conceal his relief. "I do not like tardiness in my boys."
He looked down on his son-in-law's impetuous arrival with amusement in his eyes. "Though, I must say, you do know how to make an impressive entrance. You have jangled a few nerves and no mistake."
"Please forgive me for the manner of my lateness. It was not of my making." Lucius turned to slam the door of the cab behind him, tossing a handful of coins up to the driver who caught them all deftly.
The man saluted his respects with his whip handle. He set the cab in motion as Lucius took the steps two at a time, pulling his sea cap from his head.
"What kept you?" Daniel asked mildly, knowing relief his friend had come to no great harm but couldn't resist a little ribbing for his lateness. "You should have been here hours ago. The Admiral was concerned."
"Fate, my friend. Blasted fate!" Lucius grimaced as he ran a hand over his mop of dark curls in frustration. "Would you believe it was a confounded whale? It surfaced right beside our bow that fourth night when we saw you'd finally gotten ahead of us, Daniel."
He compressed his lips. "The blasted beast used its tail to stove in a few timbers above the waterline before it sounded again. So we were forced to limp along for some days before we had the Rebecca patched up again and back under full sail. By then you were long gone and I had no chance to catch you up."
He grinned, shaking his head. "You'd shown us a clean pair of heels and left us far behind. I swear the Gods were on your side, my friend. This time."
"I suppose it can happen to the best of us." The Admiral clasped his shoulder, encouraging Lucius to fall into step with him. "It's pleased I am to see you're finally here, safe and sound."
"Thank you, Sir," Lucius acknowledged.
The Admiral tightened his grip on his son-in-law's shoulder before dropping his hand. "Well, come along inside, then. Mary will be happy to see you and I have a bottle of the finest port I've been saving to salute our new venture."
He shook a stern finger at them both. "And I'll be wanting a full accounting of your voyages after we've partaken of a bite or two of luncheon. I expect a goodly return on my investment in you two. And a lot more to come."
"Of course. Please, lead the way, Sir." Lucius indicated the imposing doors of the house as he dropped back to walk at Daniel's side.
He shook his head. "By the fire blazing in the watery beast's eye before it sank, I could almost swear it was some of Turner's confounded work. The demon must have been caught in an idle moment with nothing to occupy his wily mind. He ever was for the cowardly attack. If only I'd had a good harpoon to hand. I'd have warned him not to trespass on honest men's endeavours."
Daniel looked up and down the street, assessing the passing foot traffic on both sidewalks. "Turner attacks only if he thinks he has the advantage. And then, in his cowardice, he goes after those he sees as weak or defenceless. Those who do not know his game."
He shook his head. "You'd better keep up with us on the voyage home. A united front will scare that demon away from interfering in our new trade."
"The voyage home…" Lucius muttered in an aside as they entered the house. "Damnation take Turner and all his minions! You will not best me twice in a row, my friend. Whale or no whale, I will beat you back to Boston. Is it a wager?"
Daniel thumped him lightly on the shoulder with his closed fist. "If you wish to lose your money again, then, of course. Bring it on and damn Turner and all his schemes!"
They laughed companionably together as the butler closed the doors before conducting them toward the main drawing room where the ladies were waiting to receive them. The Admiral walked ahead of them, disappearing into another side room as the butler opened the drawing-room door to announce them in stiffly formal tones. He bowed before he left the room, closing the doors firmly behind him.
"At last…" Mary Kearns rose from her couch holding out both her hands. "Someone to distract my poor husband from his landlubber woes. He never ceases to complain. He's been like a caged bear for days as he anticipated your arrival."
"It's such a pleasure to see you again." Daniel smiled at her, bending to formally kiss the back of the hand he'd been given to hold. "And looking as lovely as always."
"Ever the charmer…" Mary Kearns smiled at him mistily.
"My beloved mama-in-law." Lucius grinned as he took her hand, bypassing it to kiss her lined cheek soundly. "Rebecca sends all her love and regards. I swear to bring her home again on our next voyage. She misses you."
"It's been an age since we've seen her." Mary tapped him lightly on the cheek with her folded fan. "You keep my daughter far too busy with your charm and husbandly dalliance."
She looked him up and down with approval before she turned back to Daniel. "I've just been talking with your very charming wife, young man."
The admiral's lady turned to indicate Carolyn who was seated on the couch watching their interplay. "She's been telling me all about your happy news. I am very pleased for you. Having a child secures your future in this world."
She reseated herself, using her fan to indicate the two men may sit opposite them. "All of you make me feel so young again." She reached to pat Carolyn's hand.
"You are to become a father?" Lucius seized his good friend's hand and pumped it up and down heartily. "Now we have a true reason to celebrate!"
He jumped up to clasp him in a bear hug before crossing to Carolyn to take her hand and kiss her cheek. "Congratulations, my dear. I knew there must be a reason for the radiant bloom in your cheeks."
"Thank you, Lucius…" Carolyn smiled up at him. "I am very happy." She laid a protective hand over her abdomen.
"About time…" Mary looked up as her husband entered the room, clasping a dusty old bottle in his hand.
She clicked her tongue as he hurried to show the bottle's label to his two shipmates. "We ladies shall partake of a restorative cordial in celebration of the happy news," Mary declared repressively, watching the three men discussing the qualities of the wine like three delighted schoolboys.
She reached for the bell pull beside the couch and gave it a sharp tug. Almost instantly the door opened and a uniformed, female servant looked in.
"The Captain's children and their servants are well settled upstairs," she confided, dropping a quick curtsy. "They're partaking of refreshments."
"Thank you, Lucy," Mary acknowledged. "Please bring us a bottle of our best blackberry cordial and two glasses. And instruct chef that we shall partake of our luncheon in an hour."
"Yes, ma'am," her servant replied, giving another quick curtsy before she left the room again.
"Now we can be comfortable…" Mary smiled at her guests. "We have a great deal of catching up to do. I want to know everything about everyone."
※※※※※
Claymore drove his carriage slowly out toward Gull Cottage in the falling dusk of the late afternoon. The nagging doubts whispering in the back of his mind over his nefarious use of his cousin's house in his absence were still being outweighed by his sudden unwillingness to allow so much as a single cent to escape his greedy grasp. Once the idea had been born he couldn't seem to escape it.
He knew his new-found resistance to making money at the expense of his family was paper thin. The old Claymore would never have hesitated or counted the cost of his back-handed dealings. But somehow this impending deal made him uneasy. It dragged out the base elements of his personality.
"It's not my fault…" he tried to reason with himself. If only his good client hadn't given in to the wishes of his wayward daughter.
"What can it hurt?" he remarked to his horse's twitching ears. "My cousin is still weeks away from returning and he'll never know. Everything will be ship-shape and Bristol fashion when they return. Or my name's not Claymore Gregg."
He was grateful for the isolated nature of the house and its secluded placement far from the town. He'd quickly telegrammed his client and assured him he had everything in hand and prepared for his visit.
Tomorrow afternoon, Claymore would be on hand to redirect his client, the happy couple and their guests to the house. He would waylay them before they even got close to Schooner Bay. It was the only way to keep their tidy little side deal quiet.
"First, I have to make sure everything is as it should be," he murmured as he brought his carriage to a halt beside the wooden gate.
As before, he looked all around as he got down. The gate creaked eerily as he pushed it open. That odd trace of sulphur seemed to be following him. He walked carefully up the path and jumped as an owl hooted somewhere nearby in the gathering gloom.
"It's nothing…" he muttered, drawing the key from the pocket of his driving coat. "Just a bird. Stop imagining what isn't there. Business is business…"
He unlocked the door and stepped carefully inside, closing the door behind him. The silence of the house seemed to hold a sense of menace. Claymore shivered in the chill of the unoccupied house as he hurried across the foyer and into the living room.
Daniel's portrait, hanging above the fireplace, stared back at him with silent and grim disapproval. Claymore squared his shoulders as he approached it, stopping in front of the unlit fireplace to stare upwards.
"Now, it's not as if I'm renting the place out for the entire summer," he said loudly to reassure himself. "It's only for a few days and if there was any other way…"
He waved a hand helplessly. "Surely, you can't object to that? You know I have to make a living."
Inspiration hit him, then. "How else will I pay for Henry's care and education? He drains my purse even now. I'm glad he sails to London with you and at your expense."
The portrait glared down at him. But it kept its opinion to itself, even as somewhere in the distance lightning flashed and thunder rolled. A brief flicker of light moved across the painting, seeming to make the blue eyes brim with censorious life and something darker and more menacing.
"I'm just earning my fee." Claymore strove to keep calm as he spread his hands wide in appeal, wondering why on earth he was once again talking to the painted image.
Surely it cannot do me any harm? He swallowed against the suddenly parched dryness of his throat.
"Very well. I... will only lease out the house for this one time while you're away at sea," he stammered, into the menacing silence. "Cross my heart…" He quickly completed the symbol over his chest, shivering in the sudden fall of the temperature in the room.
Beyond the house, the storm continued to mutter. A single flash of lightning rent the sky from the clouds to the beach below, making Claymore jump and mumble in fear.
"I can't back out now, I tell you…" he pleaded, not knowing who or what he was talking to.
He swallowed as he gathered his courage, looking around, seeing everything was in order. It was almost as if the family had just left the room. He retreated toward the door, careful not to look at the portrait again, even as he felt those blue eyes boring into his cringing flesh between his shoulder blades.
He stiffened his resolve as he pulled a notebook from the breast pocket of his coat, moving quickly through the downstairs rooms noting everything and its placement. He hesitated at the foot of the stairs for a fraught moment of honesty before he shrugged it off and climbed the staircase. Somehow the intrusion was becoming easier to handle.
Every bedroom was neat and tidy, nothing out of place. He entered the master's cabin slowly, keeping well away from the telescope with its highly polished barrel pointed blindly toward the ceiling. The feeling of menace increased as he poked about, making copious notes.
Finally satisfied he turned back to the view beyond the French windows. "It'll have to do, I suppose," he muttered, walking around the telescope to open one door and look outside.
"He'll never know," he continued, trying to bolster his courage to go through with the deal. "I'll make very sure he doesn't."
Below the house, the creaming surf rolled in across the sand and withdrew before returning once more in its endless assault on the land. Claymore's nose twitched as he stared down at the scene. Again, he could swear he caught a whiff of sulphur. It was giving him a headache.
"Madness…" He snapped the door closed as he stepped back from the view, the telescope and retreated to the doorway. "Money is everything…" he whispered, still feeling someone was watching him and understanding his secret plans for the house and approving in a spooky way.
"Too little sleep and too much still to do…" he muttered. "I really need a holiday." He sighed. "Maybe next year…"
He didn't look back as he hurried back down the stairs to the open front door. He avoided the living room and the sternly-featured picture hanging above the mantelpiece that watched his retreat with silent disapproval as Claymore hurried back to his carriage before his courage failed him.
"Business is just business," he reassured himself again as he slapped the reins sharply against his horse's rump and they set off back toward town at a fast clip.
Lightning flickered around the surf line once more and that same whiff of burning sulphur seemed to follow Claymore on his flight back to the township. He whipped his horse into a faster trot and did not look behind him for fear of what he might see following him down the long narrow road.
※※※※※
"You've become a novelist?" Mary asked Carolyn wonderingly the moment the servants had left them to their dessert. "Oh, how very exciting! A baby on the way and being paid to write. Wonderful. You are a thoroughly modern woman, my dear. I could wish I was so young again with such a future ahead of me."
"Thank you." Carolyn smiled. "It has been a lifetime love that I have finally realised." She looked to Daniel with a nod of acknowledgement.
"I trust none of us figure in your writings?" the Admiral asked, raising his bushy eyebrows. "I mean, I would be flattered, of course. But I doubt my fellows down at my navy club wouldn't be so keen."
Carolyn shook her head. "We have spared your blushes. But they are stories of daring do on the high seas."
Mary reached for her glass of claret. "How may one read these stories of yours? They sound interesting."
"I'm afraid the circulation is only around New England for now," Carolyn replied regretfully. "But Sally Hall, my editor, is working on growing the circulation of her magazine."
"A woman editor, as well…" Mary Kearns shook her grey curls in amazement. "Wonder upon wonder. I can see I do need to get out more."
She reached to take Carolyn's hand. "Mail me some editions as soon as you return to Boston. I have a flair for promoting new works by suitable writers in my circle of ladies. I do not see why you should be excluded from being more widely read. We cannot have London being seen as somewhere behind the colonies." She laughed indulgently.
"I will certainly do that." Carolyn regarded her thankfully. "I do have a current manuscript with me," she offered tentatively. "I have been writing it since we left Boston. It is almost complete."
"Excellent!" Mary raised her glass to her. "Then while the menfolk pour over dry bills of lading and monies owed, we shall get comfortable and have a happy conversation about your new-found success."
※※※※※
Claymore waited impatiently at the fork in the road that channelled all traffic to Schooner Bay or onwards to Beacon Bay further along the coast. He fretted as he walked up and down, thinking back over his plans and hoping all was in readiness.
He'd been very busy. Forced to hire servants and caterers from Beacon Bay, he tried to ensure none of them had links to any Schooner Bay townsfolk, which had been a task in itself. In the normal run of things, he would have been free to use boys from the local orphanage, because their labour came without any cost and under the guise of work experience for their futures.
"And I was forced to pay for these other people from my own good coin," he fussed, knowing he'd paid over the odds to have the servants travel so far from their homes.
But it couldn't be helped. This venture was already fraught with difficulty. He would be glad when it was over and he could relax. Counting his profits always managed to soothe his upset stomach and overtaxed nerves.
"About time…" Claymore wiped the back of his hand across his brow as five coaches came into view around the bend in the road. He pinned on his best welcoming smile as they drew level with him.
But he could not ignore that same prickling of the cringing skin between his shoulder blades. That same trace of sulphur wafted past his twitching nose. Again, he could swear he was being watched, but when he turned around to look there was no one and nothing there…
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