Chapter Ten

An Identity Crisis

"I can force Claymore to withdraw his permission." Daniel paced the kitchen while the family ate their evening meal. "Make him pay back whatever bribe he's been given. That would hurt him more than anything."

"But I can't see how that could help us." Carolyn shook her head. "Montgomery has the scent of a chapter about you in his book. As you said, he's a man who wouldn't give up his quest so easily. He has the whole town to conduct his research in. Someone's guaranteed to say something to put him on a path that will lead him right back to our door."

"It seems that the very moment we start feeling secure, the good Lord reminds us otherwise," Martha observed ruefully. "I thought we'd seen the last of those interfering Bangor ladies."

"Well, I think it's inevitable that someone would finally join the dots," Jonathan observed, helping himself to another heaped spoonful of mashed potato. "Claymore's only being the Claymore we all know too well. He wouldn't hesitate to sell his soul, for the right price."

"Yes…" Daniel sighed as he ceased his pacing and sat down at the table. "I have neglected his education for far too long."

Carolyn lifted her shoulders in resignation. "All we can do is make the best of it, and I hope Claymore doesn't add to his perfidy by revealing what he knows about Carol Gregg's true identity."

She looked at Daniel. "In the meantime, if Montgomery does return here, you mustn't harm him or give him any indication you exist. We don't need another Paul Wilkie incident. I want your word you'll leave him alone."

Daniel frowned at her. "Very well, Madam, you have my word, I will not harm a single hair on his head. Of course, should he have the sad misfortune to trip on the stairs…"

"Thank you, Captain. But I'm sure you'll be there to prevent such misfortune." Carolyn compressed her lips.

Daniel regarded her sympathetically. "That blasted buffoon had overset you, my dear. That I cannot allow. Montgomery won't cease to dig until he finds what he's looking for. And remember he is a professional researcher. We need to head him off by enlisting some new allies. I know this is an unpalatable fact, but I feel the time has finally come when Miss Gregg's identity needs to be revealed."

"Yes…" Carolyn nodded. "But it must be in a small way, no fanfare, no big reveal." She shook her head. "I would be lying if I said the last couple of years haven't been interesting. But I do think my reputation is now secure enough to stand up to the scrutiny."

"A high point was fending off the Bangor Ladies Reading Circle." Martha laughed. "Carol Gregg belongs to the ladies of Schooner Bay. I feel they should be told first, Mrs Muir."

"Agreed. But only the key members. Invite them here to an extraordinary meeting as soon as you can arrange it. Then we'll discuss what to do about Montgomery."

"Consider it done." Martha agreed.

"Even though we have been forced into making it, I think our decision deserves a toast." Daniel waved one hand and the tray containing his decanter of Madeira and four glasses floated from its place on the kitchen dresser to settle on the table at his elbow.

"You've gotta show me how you do that," Martha observed enviously. "I could sure use it on wash day."

"I'm afraid it takes over a hundred years to perfect." Daniel smiled as he poured a measure of the ruby liquid into each glass.

He handed them out, holding up the last with a glance to Carolyn, silently asking her permission for Jonathan and Candy to be allowed to join them.

"Just one glass each." Carolyn nodded.

"Aw, Mom. I'm not a kid anymore," her son complained, eagerly accepting the crystal vessel.

"Yeah, nor am I…" Candy added. "And I have had wine before." She accepted the glass the Captain handed to her.

"To Carol Gregg…" Martha raised her glass.

"To keeping our ship on an even keel," Jonathan replied.

"To our ship's future…" Candy added his toast.

"To some well-earned peace and quiet…" Carolyn sighed.

"To my family…" Daniel looked at each of them in turn, understanding how much they all had enriched his previously lonely existence beyond measure. And how much he had to lose if Peregrine Montgomery succeeded in uncovering the truth.

※※※※※

Alice Peterson and Eileen Vogel sat on the living room couch, both looking wide-eyed and deeply curious about the nature of this extraordinary meeting their president had called at such short notice.

Sitting in the chair opposite the couch, Carolyn cleared her throat. "We have asked you here today because we have a very important matter we need to discuss."

"And we felt it's only fair that you, as the founding members of the Schooner Bay ladies reading group, are the first to know," Martha added, pouring coffee for them all.

"We're listening…" Alice replied as both women leaned forward eagerly, accepting their cups almost absently.

"You're both aware of the deep interest in the true identity of the romance writer, Carol Gregg." Carolyn looked from one to the other.

"Well, we all would love to know who she is, just so we can shake her hand and say, thank you," Eileen Vogel replied eagerly.

"Her novels are just… are just… wonderful…" Alice Peterson breathed, sipping her coffee. "I've spent many happy hours getting lost in them." She sighed. "But Captain Josiah Wentworth is still my favourite. What a man…"

Carolyn and Martha exchanged significant glances. Daniel materialised, sitting on the window seat, watching the meeting with close attention. He huffed his disgust at the mention of the name of the hero of their first novel.

"Blasted whippersnapper…" he muttered.

"Miss Gregg will be very grateful to know that you think that way," Martha said, settling into a vacant chair. "Because you're about to meet her in person."

"She's here, now?" Eileen gasped, looking around the room. "Oh, how wonderful. Where's she hiding?"

"She is indeed here." Carolyn nodded. She drew a deep, steadying breath. "You see, I am Carol Gregg. I always have been. I created the name as my nom-de-plume."

Both her guests blinked at her, stunned into several moments of astonished silence. Then they turned to each other, their faces settling into expressions of intense relief.

"I told you so!" they said, together. Then they turned back to Carolyn, who was looking confused by the unexpected turn of events.

"We knew it all along. We were never fooled by that devious letter Martha read out to the Bangor ladies," Eileen explained. "Silly creatures to be so taken in. We'd already agreed privately that you had to be Miss Gregg. It made the most perfect and delicious sense."

"Who else could it be?" Alice demanded to know. "You are by far the best author for miles around. And you live in this most amazing house. How could you not be inspired to write such marvellously romantic tales of true love and daring do?"

Behind them, the captain looked well satisfied with their favourable reaction. He nodded to Carolyn, his wary expression lightening with relief.

"Well, I never would have guessed," Martha gasped.

"And no one else will either," Eileen vowed. "Not until you're ready to share your news with the rest of our group, Carolyn. We know how to keep a delicious secret."

"But we're still left with a rather troublesome problem," Carolyn confided. "You see, there's a naval historian in town, a Mr Peregrine Montgomery from Bangor. He's staying at the inn. Claymore told him about Captain Gregg's journals that I've been using for my research. Montgomery is determined to track Miss Gregg down to obtain them. He's prepared to make a total nuisance of himself to get what he wants."

"Oh, he is, is he?" Alice put aside her coffee cup. "Yes, I saw a strange man in town just yesterday, snooping around, poking his long nose into other people's business, asking all sorts of impertinent questions."

Her eyes lit up with fervour. "Leave him to us. We'll get back to town and start right away. We'll spread the wildest rumours about the whereabouts of Miss Gregg that'll send him on a hundred different roads to nowhere. We know how to deal with such big city busybodies and send them packing."

"Oh, I love this!" Eileen declared. "We're just like the three musketeers…" She paused, frowning. "Except, there's four of us."

"Five, if you include the captain." Carolyn indicated the portrait. "I don't think he would like to be left out. If it wasn't for his journals, then Carol Gregg wouldn't be able to write her novels."

Both women stared up at the painting in dubious fascination.

"You know, it's always been rumoured that he haunts Gull Cottage. Everyone says so. Have you ever seen him?" Alice wondered.

"Oh, I see him all the time," Carolyn declared blithely.

Both Daniel and Martha stared at her incredulously. The two ladies sat forward eagerly.

"I knew it!" Alice declared breathlessly.

"Tell us all about him," Eileen encouraged. "What's he really like? Does he appear rattling rusty old chains and wearing a white sheet…"

"Look at him. I hardly think rusty chains and a white sheet would be in the captain's style." Carolyn laughed. "I meant I see him, every time I sit down at my typewriter. He always comes to life in his journals."

"Bravo, Madam," Daniel approved. "Deftly handled."

"Oh…" Alice sat back, looking crestfallen.

"Pity that…" Eileen stared up at the portrait. "He certainly must have been a magnificent man when he was alive."

"So, I'm told. From his journals, he seems to have had a woman in every port." Carolyn glanced at Daniel who was looking more than satisfied with the outcome of the meeting. "Just like any other red-blooded, nineteenth-century sea captain, I suppose."

"Well, we can't wait to get started." Eileen stood up. "We'll telephone you the moment we have any news. Don't you worry, Carolyn, your secret's safe with us?"

"I've never been a part of a conspiracy to deceive before." Alice jumped up to follow her friend's lead. "It's totally delicious."

"Totally…" Eileen agreed as Martha showed them to the front door.

"Well, that went better than I expected," Carolyn remarked to Daniel with relief.

"Women…" Daniel shook his head. "They never cease to astound me. Their minds are far more devious than any man's."

"Thank you, Captain." Carolyn nodded.

"Now, the only loose end to tie up is for me to deal with Claymore's treachery," Daniel declared with satisfaction. "If you will excuse me, Madam…" He dematerialised.

※※※※※

Claymore sat uneasily at his desk, squirming in his chair. He was being confronted by a very dissatisfied customer in Mr Peregrine Montgomery, and he was feeling the increasing pressure badly.

"I am deeply disappointed. You promised me immediate results, Mr Gregg." Montgomery leaned forward in his chair to glare at him. "You have been paid handsomely for your information. I expected to hear from you long before this and with a substantial lead."

"Yes, well, you see, Schooner Bay is a small town and it's very close-knit," Claymore babbled. "They don't like big-city strangers poking around asking questions. It'll take them some time to warm to you."

"That's precisely the reason I hired you, to be my eyes and ears. Time is something I do not have. My ability to stay in Schooner Bay is limited. I have publishing deadlines I must meet. Reluctantly, given your tardiness, I'm prepared to increase my price for the right information. What man could resist such enticements?"

"Yes, well…" Claymore prevaricated, reaching to fiddle with his eyeshade.

Talk of money always managed to grasp his undivided attention. That was why he'd answered Montgomery's letter while managing to obtain the one addressed to Carolyn Muir through his connections with the mail sorting office. Now, his avarice was fast outpacing his innate sense of caution in dealing with all things concerning Gull Cottage and the irascible ghost of his great-uncle.

Montgomery sighed brusquely. "If you can't furnish me with any useful information about where I may find this Carol Gregg woman and the journals, I will be forced to dispense with your services and demand a full refund of my money."

"Oh, no…I…you…" Claymore swallowed tightly. "I mean, well, you see, it's like this—" He stopped in mid-sentence, his face blanching, as his great-uncle appeared behind Montgomery's chair like a harbinger of doom.

"You money-grubbing, penny-pinching swab!" Daniel shouted, shaking his fist. "Judas! You will not speak of what you know about Mrs Muir, or you will never speak again!"

He opened his hand to gesture sharply, and Claymore was painfully aware of his throat closing tightly. He clutched at his neck, suddenly barely able to breathe.

"What is it, man? Speak up!" Montgomery stared at him in consternation. "What were you about to tell me? I'll double my price!"

Claymore's eyes bulged as he flapped his hands, wriggling in his seat, shaking his head mutely. He stabbed one finger toward the office door.

"You want me to leave?" Montgomery rose from his chair. He leaned over the front of Claymore's desk. "I'm going to see the town constable about you, right now!" he declared hotly. "I will have my money back by this afternoon, or my name isn't Peregrine Montgomery!"

He stormed out, slamming the office door behind him. The moment he was gone, Daniel released his grip on his great-nephew.

Claymore sagged back into his chair. "You're…becoming very bad…for my health," he complained hoarsely.

"You do it all to yourself, man," Daniel told him. "You cannot keep a still tongue in your numbskull of a head. You were about to expose Mrs Muir for your own greedy gain and that I cannot allow."

"But the man is so…is so…persistent," Claymore complained, reaching for a nearby glass of water. "He's been in here three times already today, demanding answers for his money." He took a long swallow. "I was at my wit's end. I had to tell him something."

"And you don't think I could be just as persistent if you push me too far?" Daniel glared at him. "And remember I can do far worse to you than that big city swell ever could."

"Yes, I know…" Claymore sighed roughly. "I wish I could forget everything I know…"

"That can be arranged…" Daniel raised one hand to point a finger toward him. "Just say the word…"

"No!" Claymore jumped up in horror, stumbling back against his filing cabinet. "I'll be good from now on, I promise!"

"When Montgomery returns with the constable, you will apologise profusely for wasting his time and you will refund him every piece of silver that crossed your lying palm. You will assure him that you know absolutely nothing, at the same time rescinding your permission for him to ever return to Gull Cottage. You were mistaken about my journals. They never existed. Sometimes you get confused about what's actually in all those blasted warehouses of yours."

"Every piece of silver?" Claymore's flushed face fell in morose despair.

"Unless you wish to pay him twenty per cent interest, as well?" Daniel asked silkily.

"No! No, I will return every penny to him, every penny he paid me." Claymore returned to the desk to slump into his chair. "Why am I always being persecuted for just trying to get ahead in this life?"

"Be grateful you have this life…" Daniel reminded him grimly. He sighed roughly. "What I wouldn't give to be alive in these times…"

※※※※※

Montgomery hurried down the street to the office of the town constable. To his disgust, he discovered the man was currently unavailable. And the receptionist had no idea when he was likely to return.

"Doesn't anyone in this backwater town ever take their responsibilities seriously?" Montgomery muttered.

"It's Tuesday," the woman behind the front desk explained patiently. "Everyone knows he's always got some fishing business to see to on Tuesday. It's a regular appointment he's had for years. Never misses. But if he catches what he's after he should be back before dinner. Who shall I say is looking for him?"

Montgomery gave her his details and the number of the inn where he could be reached. "Tell the constable it's a matter of some urgency. I have been lured here by false promises."

"Well, then you could always just leave town, and go back to Bangor where you belong." The woman shrugged, her cheery smile slipping. "No one's trying to stop ya."

"I beg your pardon. I'm here to report a very serious matter."

"Yeah, well, I'll be sure and tell the constable," the receptionist assured him. "When he gets back in. Which won't be for hours yet." She dropped her eyes back to the fashion magazine she'd been reading before Montgomery walked in.

He regarded her with dislike before he left the office in a very bad humour. As he walked toward his car he spotted Mrs Muir, accompanied by a tall young man he knew to be her son, going into the nearby General Store.

He guessed there may be no one home at Gull Cottage. It was worth the risk. He hurried to his car and drove straight out to the house.

He sat in his car outside Gull Cottage's front gate, feeling very ill-used. The hopes he'd had when he'd first decided to drive from Bangor, all the way out to Schooner Bay had overridden his usual distaste for dealing too closely with his fellow man.

"Or woman…" He looked up at the cottage sourly.

His meeting with Claymore Gregg had been most unsatisfactory. The man was a complete fraud, promising so much in his answering letter and delivering nothing beyond vague rumours and false leads.

"Evelyn tried to convince me this would be a wasted journey. I should have listened to her…" he muttered, getting out of his car. "But those journals will be invaluable…I must have them. No matter the cost."

He'd begun to suspect that Mrs Muir had lied to him. He doubted if the elusive journals had ever left the house or the captain's possession. He still had the landlord's permission to enter at will, which he fully intended to do.

He walked up the front path to the door, finding it locked. Circling the house, he discovered the back door was open. As he entered the kitchen, he heard a woman singing over the noise of a vacuum cleaner.

Montgomery crept across the foyer, peering into the living room to see the cottage's housekeeper going about her duties. As she turned in his direction, he drew quickly back out of sight.

He stared at the staircase leading to the upper floor. If the journals were anywhere in this house, he decided they must be in the captain's former quarters.

"That's where I would hide them…" he muttered, taking the stairs two at a time and finding himself in a long hallway full of closed doors.

It was at that moment he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a shiver of awareness travelled the length of his spine.

He turned to peer into the hallway's shadowed corners. "Captain? Captain Gregg, is that you? Show yourself, man, I mean you no harm…"

"While I wish to do you a great deal of harm," Daniel snarled impotently, materialising behind him. "But I gave Mrs Muir my word. I will not give you the satisfaction of confirming your suspicions by betraying my presence here."

※※※※※