Chapter Fourteen

Those Troublesome Memoirs

"We could get Claymore to pretend to be the Captain again," Martha proposed. "He convinced Harriet last time that he was real. She was really quite smitten with him, until she met the real Claymore and fell for him instead. No accounting for taste, I guess."

A family council of war had been called in the kitchen while the children entertained Cousin Harriet down at the beach building sand castles. There wasn't a lot of time to formulate a plan of action because she wasn't all that fond of sand and it was only the repeated entreaties of the children that had persuaded her to accompany them.

"We would need to use the right incentive with him. If he's pushed too far he could reveal what he knows about the Captain just to be spiteful," Carolyn replied. "His pride and his back pocket have both been affected and nothing grabs his undivided attention more."

"From what I overhead Harriet saying to Hazel last night on the telephone, there's going to be a concerted push from the family to take you and the children away from here if we don't find a solution to the impasse and soon," Daniel added, his expression grimly set.

"That will never happen…" Carolyn laid her hand over his. "I won't allow it. But they can make our lives very difficult by constantly showing up, uninvited, trying to catch us out. We need to show Harriet the Captain Gregg she met last time to satisfy them that all is well, here. That we're not hiding some big secret."

"Which, in fact, we are…" Daniel smiled intimately as he picked up her left hand and kissed her wedding ring.

"Interfering busybodies, the lot of them!" Martha declared hotly. "I know they're your family, Mrs Muir, and I should know them all well enough by now, but…"

"They are, but Claymore also told Harriet that no old sea captain has died recently in Schooner Bay, or left me enough money to buy the house, because he would've handled the estate. So, her suspicions were quickly aroused, which is what Claymore intended. Harriet smells a very big rat."

"He does have a point there," Daniel admitted. "That was an oversight on our part. We should have included Claymore in the tale we told your parents."

"Now he's trying to get back at us and using Harriet to do it." Carolyn shook her head. "And he knows exactly where the treasure came from."

"He came snooping around in the back garden, looking for more, but I showed him his gravestone instead." Daniel shrugged. "It was a satisfying moment."

"And now he's feeling left out of everything. Like the time he fell and hurt his neck. We put up with him for days and I do think, deep down, he loved being here and being cared for. I know he'll never admit it, but I'm sure he's lonely."

She frowned at her husband. "All he has for family is you and you've always denied him."

"Don't forget his blasted bank accounts," Daniel replied hardly. "Dreaming about them keeps him warm at night. And my treasure."

"He got along very well with Harriet the last time she was here," Martha commented. "A pity we can't rekindle that relationship. It would take her mind off her crusade. Never have I seen two people who were just made for each other."

"Yes, but Harriet has always been a big city girl. She wouldn't be happy here and we would never hear the end of it." Carolyn sighed. "And you could never get Claymore to move away from Schooner Bay. His whole life is in the town."

"Yes, well, you know my opinion." Martha got up to refresh their cups of coffee. "To make a cake, first you gotta break a few eggs."

Daniel nodded his thanks as she refilled his cup. "Harriet is determined to meet the Captain, so we have to make that happen. Somehow we will just have to force Claymore to recreate his part and make it believable. I can always eliminate his accounts."

"A short-term solution at best," Carolyn replied. "If he digs in his heels and refuses to co-operate, then we're sunk. We'll have to make it worth his while."

"But, as you rightly said, that still leaves us with the thorny issue of one dead sea captain." Daniel shrugged. "Claymore is sure he never existed, and if he gets in into his head to tell Harriet everything, how do we explain away the treasure we paid him with?"

"Blast…" Carolyn muttered with feeling.

Daniel frowned, his eyes narrowing as he slowly charted his course. "But… Claymore would rather sell his own mother before he'd part with any of that treasure once he had his grasping hands on it," he mused. "He can't admit he possesses it because then he would have to say how he came by it. He has been neatly hoisted by his own petard."

"Go on…" Carolyn encouraged when he paused. "I think I can see where you're going with this…"

"Very well…" Daniel nodded. "He's sitting on that bag of treasure now, safely locked away in his safe because he's too scared to take it to the local bank. He told me they asked too many awkward questions the last time he tried to deposit some of my gold doubloons. He'll be waiting to take a trip to Bangor or Boston where he can sell it off a little at a time. But he will hate spending the monies needed to do that."

"How does that help us?" Martha asked in an intrigued tone.

"I think we can discount Claymore and my gold. He has nowhere to go with it that won't eventually arouse some awkward suspicions. He didn't think of that when he signed over Gull Cottage to you. He's been neatly trussed by his own avarice. I know he sits up counting it at all times of the day and night."

"That sounds just like Claymore." Carolyn shook her head.

"Yes…" Daniel ran his fingers over his beard in thought. "The sticky issues that remain are that Harriet wants to meet me and Carolyn needs to find the answer to how she can afford to go on living here when she's used all the old sea dog's money to buy the house."

"Yes, just how do I do that?" Carolyn propped her chin in her upraised palm.

"Harriet asked about the memoirs you told her you were writing…" Daniel's eyes narrowed as he continued slowly. "Mine and the dead sea captain's."

"I've started to compile them." Carolyn sat up. "We should have yours done soon enough, if we're left alone. But how do they help us?"

A cautious smile began to curve Daniel's lips. "Mine you have and as for the dead sea captain's… Well, I can supply you with a dozen such testimonials, a hundred if needed. I know Lucius has some tales he's been boring us with for the last hundred years! If I put out a discreet word you will have ghosts lining up for miles to tell you all their stories of adventure and daring-do."

He stroked the line of his moustache with satisfaction. "Yes, I think this will serve us very well. Admiral Kearns can tell you all about Trafalgar because he was there."

"We would have to guard our sources very well…" Carolyn mused, warming to the theme. "And I never told my parents the old sea captain actually lived in Schooner Bay. I only said he was a fellow writer and a friend. When he died he left me an inheritance, enough to buy this house."

"Precisely!" Daniel approved. "I can forge any number of documents attesting to his existence and spread them around in all the right places. I can certainly find you the right old sea dog who has recently passed over and make him wealthy."

He smiled. "His newly discovered will, forged, of course, can attest to everything. I know just the right lawyer to draft it, as well. You will have an authentic copy to show Harriet."

"Yes, but how will Mrs Muir explain where she got all this new information from?" Martha worried.

Daniel frowned thoughtfully and the room fell silence for a few moments. "Sea journals," he said slowly, his expression lightening. "You were up in the wheelhouse doing your cleaning one day and you came across a whole treasure trove of old journals that I'd hidden away up there."

He thumped the table with the flat of his hand in delight, making both women jump. "What could be simpler or more believable? I fully intended to write my own when I retired from the sea. I decided to collect a few more along the way."

"But the family are still going to want to know how you can afford to go on living here if you've spent all the sea captain's money on buying this house." Martha studied them both. "Your expenses now will be considerably more than you made from your writing."

"Yes, how?" Carolyn shook her head as she looked to her husband.

"Very well, you can tell them you've managed to pique the interest of a major publishing house with the memoirs and they made you a substantial advance." Daniel shrugged his unconcern. "Enough to cover your monthly outgoings, anyway."

"If only it were that simple…" Carolyn shook her head, but not totally dismissing the idea.

"You didn't want to say anything before now. Not until it was all signed and sealed…" Martha picked up the tale. "You've been planning a whole new series of books of romantic nautical adventures…"

"I have?" Carolyn looked from one to the other.

"What could be more perfect?" Daniel enthused. "It explains everything very neatly. The old sea dog left you enough money to put a substantial deposit down on this house with Claymore. And the publishing advance covers the rest."

"Then I'd better get started right away…" Carolyn pushed aside her empty coffee cup. "The first item would be to find a major publishing house willing to pay enough of an advance so they can publish a bunch of ragged old sea journals."

"Well, I didn't say my plan was perfect," Daniel replied huffily.

"No, not old sea journals as such…" Martha mused, frowning at them. "Look, a group of ladies and I started up a reading circle last year."

She nodded. "We meet every Thursday night to talk over what we've read. Now, in the last year, there's been a growing market for women's romantic fiction. They're all some of our ladies read now."

She raised her eyebrows significantly at Carolyn. "And you already know how to write those. Hanover Books publish the ones we've been reading lately. They're fast becoming the biggest publisher in the market. What could it hurt to make some enquiries and ask for some submission guidelines?"

"Oh, no…" Carolyn immediately raised a denying hand. "I can't possibly go there again. Maiden Voyage was nearly the end of my career. Harriet said she'd read it and she was horrified. If she tells the rest of the family about any new plans…"

"Well, then you can write them under an assumed name." Martha shrugged. "What could be simpler? A lot of their best authors do that. Hanover publishes over a hundred new titles every month. It would be a ready market and I hear they pay well for the right stories. And who cares what Harriet thinks?"

"And we will have an endless supply of tales," Daniel added, looking very keen on the idea. "Lucius will be very happy to have someone who'll finally listen to his tales."

"I had meant to tell you that all the ladies loved Maiden Voyage," Martha added, as if it sealed the deal. "What could be better than another rousing tale about a handsome sea captain and a beautiful woman in distress? They keep asking me when you're going to write more like that one."

"They do?" Carolyn looked incredulous. "I don't see —"

"But, Cousin Harriet, I just wanna show you my crab," Jonathan complained in a loud voice as the three beachcombers entered the house.

"Oh, get that nasty, beastly thing away from me!" Harriet cried. "Go on now, shoo!"

"But, he just wants to be friends…" Jonathan wheedled, as they all walked into the kitchen.

"Cousin Harriet doesn't like the beach," Candy supplied on a sigh. "She says it's got too much sand on it."

"Well, it does have too much sand," Harriet complained in a hysterical tone. "It gets in everywhere, to everything." She wriggled uncomfortably. "And if I have one more creepy-crawly thing waved in my face, I swear—"

She stopped, staring hard at the two women sitting innocently at the table with three empty coffee cups. "Oh, did we have a visitor while I was out?"

"Hmmmm, yes…" Carolyn nodded, thinking quickly. "The Captain just stopped by for a quick visit."

"The Captain?" Harriet's eyebrows rose high. "Your Captain?" she demanded accusingly.

"Yes…" Carolyn smiled at where Daniel was standing in the corner watching them with a deeply dissatisfied expression.

"Oh, Carolyn, this is too much," Harriet complained. "How could you let me go down to that awful beach when you knew he was coming? You know how much I wanted to meet him again."

"He just popped in. He said he's sorry, but he couldn't stay." Carolyn shrugged. "He had somewhere else to be."

"Well, really…" Harriet looked suddenly lost for words.

"But he'll be back tonight," Carolyn continued sweetly. "He said he's very keen to meet you again. So, guess who's coming to dinner?"

"I am?" Daniel blinked.

"He is?" Martha tried hard not to appear startled.

"How come?" Jonathan looked confused.

"Because Mom says so." Candy dug her brother warningly in the ribs with her elbow. "We love having the Captain around." She smiled at her step-father. "I want to see him again. He tells us such neat stories about sharks and pirates."

"He really will be here tonight? The Captain? Just to see me…" Harriet clasped her hands together. "Oh, Carolyn, I think that's the most wonderful news! Then I can really see for myself what he's really like."

"Oh, you'll see him, all right. Captain Daniel Gregg, live and in the flesh, sitting right here at this very table."

"Then I'd better get out some of my best recipes," Martha commented drily, standing to collect the cups. "This is going to be interesting."

"And I'll go and talk to Claymore…" Daniel dematerialised with a shake of his head.

"Come on, Jonathan, we'd better go put the crab back in the ocean before it dies and stinks the house out." Candy tugged her unwilling brother out of the room. "And I want to tell you something real important."

"Well then, I'd better go and powder my nose and get ready…" Harriet simpered.

"But it's only eleven o'clock," Carolyn told her.

"Oh, one can never leave anything to chance. Not for such an important meeting like this. Besides, it'll probably take me hours to wash off all this sand…" Harriet called back over her shoulder as she hurried away.

Carolyn was left sitting alone at the table. She shook her head. "Yes, this is going to be very interesting…"

※※※※※

Claymore pulled down the shade before securely locking the front door of his office, singing a little ditty to himself. He checked and rechecked the locks, making sure all were firmly secure. Then he crossed to the window to peer out before drawing down the window shade as well.

He was about to count and recount his hidden hoard of gold and jewels. It always gave him a frisson of pleasure to handle his loot like a miser especially since he still had no way of banking it that didn't incur an expense in both time and money.

And some difficult questions he couldn't answer. Such as where did he find it and was there any more?

He went on singing his ditty as he opened his wall safe and drew forth the canvas bag of treasure. The bag had been washed, then starched and ironed into a satisfactory stiffness. It gave a slight crackle as he carried it to his desk.

Sitting in his chair, Claymore untied and drew open the neck of the bag, leaning forward to peer inside with breathless avarice. He had also washed and polished every coin and jewel.

"Come to Papa…" he cooed, pulling on a pair of white cotton gloves before carefully extracting a handful of Seated Liberty silver dollars in mint condition. "Maybe I won't hand you over to the bank, after all. You're just too beautiful to part with…"

He chuckled. "Would you like to stay here with me, forever?"

He went back to singing his little ditty. Small piles of treasure began to appear on the desktop as he counted out his fortune. He held each piece up to the light to admire it from every angle.

"Good morning, Claymore…"

"Good morning…" Claymore replied absently, his whole focus on the engrossing task before him.

He picked out a large, exquisitely-cut emerald, holding it up to his eye to gaze through its green translucence. The Captain's frowning image swam into view, distorted through the precious stone.

"Eeeuueeeww!" Claymore shrieked, dropping the stone from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

"Precisely," Daniel replied in a resigned tone. "I couldn't have put it better myself."

"You can't have any of it back!" Claymore immediately covered his treasure with the canvas bag before leaning over it protectively. "What do you want? Haven't you taken enough from me already?"

"I've taken nothing from you that you didn't give up willingly in exchange for my treasure," Daniel replied evenly. "And you were quite happy with the trade." He waved a hand at the loot.

"That's as may be," Claymore said sourly. "But still, here you are, back again, looking for another pound of flesh." He thrust out both arms. "Well, go on, then. Take it and leave me alone!"

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic," Daniel instructed hardly. "I have come to ask you for a favour."

"What kind of a favour?" Claymore peered up at him worriedly, as he settled his spectacles more firmly over the bridge of his nose. "And I can't possibly go anywhere without my glasses. I told you I can't see anything without them. But, oh no, you insisted!"

"You can wear your blasted eyeglasses!" Daniel snapped. "Now, you invited that snip-headed, busybody, Harriet Williams, to descend on us. You need to pay for that glaring indiscretion by helping us to get rid of her."

"But she was already on her way here to see Mrs Muir," Claymore denied. "How could I stop her?"

"You could have acted like a true Gregg instead of a conniving cipher. You didn't need to feed her a diet of lies and half-truths to send her snooping on our private business. That woman is a menace and determined to get her own way."

"Nothing I can do about it now. She's your problem." Claymore shrugged. "If I was a true Gregg, I'd still be allowed to visit Gull Cottage. But I've been banned, remember?" He smiled weakly, feeling he'd won the point. "You can't have it both ways."

"I think we can make an exception for just one evening…" Daniel reassured him, leaning closer. "That is the favour I wanted to ask of you. I want you to pretend to me, again. If you pull it off without incident, I might even be prepared to make certain concessions over your rights to visit the house."

He settled one hip on the edge of the desk. "What do you say, Claymore? Shall we play loving families?"

"What I say is, don't you come any nearer…" Claymore leaned far back in his chair. "Don't you touch me, now. My poor shoulder still hurts from the last time…"

"I have no intention of touching you," Daniel purred menacingly. "But you will present yourself at Gull Cottage tonight, at precisely six of the clock, dressed appropriately for an important dinner engagement."

He stood up. "You will spend the evening dazzling Harriet with your considerable charm and address. You will show her your love and care for Mrs Muir…" He raised a warning finger sharply. "Within strict boundaries, of course. You will prove beyond any doubt that you are the man for her."

"Why should I?" Claymore grumbled.

Daniel reached out a hand, hovering his palm just above the piles of gold, silver and jewels. His grim smile widened warningly. "Because, if you don't, you will never see any of this treasure that you value so highly, ever again."

"You wouldn't dare!" Claymore shot upwards in his chair. "I… why should I do it? Just because you say so."

"Because you created this mess and you're going to clean it up. Do you still remember your training from when you impersonated me the last time? Or do you need a refresher course?"

Daniel bowed ironically. "I am at your service. We have all afternoon. Let's get started with how you greet a lady, properly. There'll be none of your bumbling and babbling nonsense this time!"

"I… you can't want me to be you, again. Not for a whole night!" Claymore squeaked, his face turning bone white. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I couldn't possibly do it, not for all the treasure in the world! I just know I'll fall apart and you'll kill me."

His eyes filled with tears. "And I'm too young to die! I don't wanna be a ghost!" he cried pitifully.

"If you don't do it I promise to haunt you until the day you die," Daniel replied grimly. "And I'll make sure that won't be for a very, very long time."

"Oh…" Claymore clapped a hand to his mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick…" Instead, he passed out, flopping back in his chair lifelessly, his flailing arm spilling a scatter of glittering treasure across the floor.

"God give me strength!" Daniel raised his eyes toward the ceiling, shaking his head in slow resignation. "Why have I been given such weak clay to try and mould into something useful?"