THREE HEROES

by Jo Beverley

  But once she knew that Mel and Belle were her parents, her real parents, they fascinated her.

  She’d fought to keep Sammy alive for his own sake, but perhaps as well she’d hoped to prove worthy of her parents’ attention. She’d been heartbroken when the baby gave up the fight at six weeks, and guilt-struck as well.

  She vividly remembered Lady Belle and Mel Clyst coming to the manor to look at the waxen body. Though she’d hovered nearby, Lady Belle—lush, queenly, and richly dressed—had paid her no attention. She’d looked at the baby as if he were an exhibit in a glass case.

  Melchisedeck Clyst, who despite being a tavernkeeper had been dressed as well as Uncle Nathaniel, had seemed to feel something. He’d touched the swaddled child, and glanced at Susan in a way that might have been an acknowledgment. But no more than that.

  They’d gone with the coffin to the church for the service, and then to the graveyard to see the small box settled in the Kerslake plot. To Susan, weeping, it had seemed that Lady Belle was profoundly bored.

  From that day on she had put aside all hope that her true parents would clasp her to their bosoms. She didn’t know why she had wanted it when she’d had the love of Aunt Miriam, Sir Nathaniel, her brother, and her cousins.

  But from that day on she’d also longed to belong.

  Sometimes she wondered if she’d simply needed to be in a position where Lady Belle would be forced to acknowledge her existence.

  When David came into the kitchen and snitched a bun despite just having finished that huge breakfast, Susan rose and impulsively gave her aunt a hug. Her aunt hugged her back, but with a question in her eyes. Susan could see that she was touched, though, and was glad she’d done it. Had she ever shown her aunt and uncle how grateful she was for what they’d done for them?

  “Is everything all right, Susan?” Aunt Miriam asked, holding on to her hand for a moment.

  Susan felt a brief urge to burst into wild laughter and tears, but she said, “Yes, of course. Though the earl being at the Crag is going to bring changes. I don’t think I want to stay there as housekeeper much longer.”

  “It always was a temporary thing, love, and it’ll be grand to have you back here again.”

  Susan smiled, but she knew she couldn’t do it. She’d taken a fork in the road, and she couldn’t return to this coziness any more than she could explore the cliffs with Con again. She didn’t say that, though, merely squeezed her aunt’s hand and went on her way.

  As soon as they were out of earshot of the house, David asked, “Is the earl going to make trouble?”

  Trouble? What was trouble? Perhaps she should tell David the whole story so he would be warned. She was very afraid that if Con discovered that her brother was the new Captain Drake he’d turn against the Dragon’s Horde for that reason.

  “I don’t think he’ll fight the smuggling,” she said, hoping it was true. “As things are at the moment. I suspect he won’t invest, though, and he might not cooperate about the cellars and the horses.”

  “Inconvenient. Are you sure you can’t persuade him to play a part? Smuggling has to continue, or I wouldn’t be doing it.”

  “Truly?” She looked at him.

  “Truly. I confess, I enjoy it in part, but I’m all too aware of the dangers. If you can, persuade the earl to be on our side.”

  Susan suppressed a shudder at the thought. “I think Gifford is more likely to persuade him into complete opposition. They’re both army men.”

  “But isn’t Gifford sweet on you?”

  “I am not encouraging the poor man, not even for you.”

  “Ah, well,” he said as they passed through the arch into the orchard, “Mel always said we had to play the hand we were dealt.”

  “Mel,” Susan said, remembering. “David, Gifford suggested that the old earl helped bring about Mel’s arrest.”

  He stopped to stare at her. “What? That’s nonsense. They had an agreement.”

  “Might they have had a falling-out?”

  “I’d have thought you’d know that better than I.”

  “I didn’t see anything....” They walked on. “But he might have hidden it from me. He wasn’t stupid, and he’d know that I’d probably warn Mel of danger.”

  “Only probably?”

  “We’ve no reason to feel kindly toward our parents.”

  He glanced at her. “I used to go down to the George and Dragon sometimes. I suppose it was easier, us being men....”

  For some reason it hurt. “Were you friends, then, you and Mel?”

  “I don’t know what you’d call it. Not father and son. Not friends either. I’m no happier than you about the way they ignored us, but I came to like him. He told me I’d have to take over if anything happened without giving him time to prepare. That’s why he talked to me about the business.”

  She realized she was hurt by this connection, and by the fact that David had kept it secret.

  But then, she had secrets, and now she didn’t feel so responsible for pushing David into being Captain Drake.

  “And Lady Belle?” she asked. “Were you friends with her too?” She heard the sour note in her voice but couldn’t seem to help it.

  His look said he heard it too. “She liked the company of handsome young men.”

  “Handsome, are you?”

  “Stupid to say no. Susan, look, some women just aren’t made to be mothers. I think Mel would have liked to be closer to us, but he wouldn’t cross her for it. And he liked his children being raised at the manor as gentry. He didn’t want us living in Dragon’s Cove, part of his class. He kept an eye on us, and everyone around here knew better than to harm us.”

  Kept an eye. As Mel had by talking to Con. And she’d always felt safe roaming the coast. Perhaps her aunt and uncle had known she was under Captain Drake’s protection, and that was why they’d given her so much freedom.

  Her world had twisted again.

  “How do you think he’ll do in Australia?” she asked.

  “Mel? If he’s survived the voyage he’ll probably thrive. I gather that after a while they can set up businesses.”

  “And Lady Belle?” But then she burst out, “I don’t even like her, so why am I concerned?”

  He laughed. “Blood will out? She’ll be queen of Australia.”

  “On gold that doesn’t belong to her.”

  “In a way, it did. Mel kept a handsome sum to back up the Horde in difficult times. He even paid people for sitting idle so they wouldn’t get up to trouble. But it was his money. His profits.”

  Susan was bouncing from one shock to another. “The earl’s gold is the Horde’s though, isn’t it? The earl didn’t keep his part of the bargain.”

  “Assuredly.”

  So it was right to take it. She still didn’t want to take it from Con. Or, to be more precise, she didn’t want Con to know if she took it.

  She shifted to something firmer. “What happened last night. How bad is it?”

  “Half bad. We have half the cargo secure, though we won’t be able to move it for a while with Gifford and his men poking around everywhere. The fight last night has them all over this part of the coast, dammit.”

  “What happened? How badly are you hurt?”

  “Don’t fuss. A line of tubmen was attacked. I think it was the Blackstock Gang, but I’m not sure. I arrived before they’d snatched all the tubs, but they got some and left a lot of men bruised and battered.”

  “Gifford said he knows of some of the injured. Were they ours?”

  “Yes. I let him find them, since there was nothing to prove the cause of the fight—we had the cargo away by then. They’d get better doctoring that way. The others carried away their wounded.”

  She was afraid he might go after the Blackstocks to teach them a lesson, afraid he’d get more badly hurt, but she knew she had no say in such things. He wasn’t her little brother anymore.

  But there was an area where she could speak. “How much did we lose? What’s our sit
uation now?”

  “About half the profit, but I’ve kept that quiet. I’ll forgo my share, and if you do the same —”

  “Of course.” It would leave her with no money to finance an escape, however. Unless they found the money hidden at the Crag. “But the Horde will have no reserves.”

  They were out in the lane, and they stepped aside to let a man with a barrow pass, exchanging pleasant greetings. The man winked as he went past. “Grand night last night, weren’t it, Cap’n?”

  Susan took a deep breath. “Clearly he doesn’t know of the loss. But I wish everyone didn’t know about you.”

  “Don’t be silly. How could it work if everyone didn’t know? No one’s going to say anything.”

  “It has to get out. Perch knew who Captain Drake was, but he accepted money not to know. Gifford won’t do that.” She said what she knew she shouldn’t say. “David, I don’t want him hurt.”

  He stopped to look at her. “Gifford? Perhaps you do fancy him.”

  She felt the color rush into her cheeks. “Of course not. But he’s a good man simply trying to do his duty. It would be evil to kill him.”

  “You do think I’ve turned into a monster, don’t you?”

  “No. But when it comes to you or him. To your men or him ...”

  “I won’t kill him or order him killed. It’s not the Dragon’s Horde way, Susan. You know that.”

  “But I don’t want you hanged or transported, either!”

  “Make up your mind, love.” But then he linked his arm with hers and urged her onward. “Don’t borrow trouble. But I have to say, it would be useful if you could get your hands on that gold soon. Once we move last night’s cargo, we’ll be able to pay the investors. But as you say, no reserves. We’ll have to do another run. Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  His glance said, Too soon. “Captain Vavasour has a tea cargo he couldn’t get in farther up the coast.”

  “You can’t bring it in here! And the moon’s fuller every night.”

  “We’re having such dull weather, the chances are it’ll be overcast—”

  “Chances!”

  “Susan, smuggling’s a chancy business.”

  “That’s why I want no part of it.”

  “No, that’s why you don’t want me part of it. Stop it.”

  The firm command took her breath away. But he was right. Her panic was more likely to get him killed than help him.

  “Of course we’d not bring it in here, but tea’s a lighter cargo, so we can use somewhere tricky. Irish Cove, perhaps. That’s not been used for years.”

  Her breath caught, even as she knew it shouldn’t matter. It was just another bay along the coast. But in some twisted way it seemed another betrayal of Con to use that special place for a smuggling run when he was nearby.

  “It’s a hard climb up with the goods,” she said.

  “We could drop lines and hoist the tea up. It’s equally hard for the Preventives to get at. Or get Vavasour to sink the bales with markers. Then pick them up by boat...”

  He was lost in his plans, but Susan knew Gifford would be hawkeyed here. “David, if I find the gold, would you be able to wait?”

  He looked at her. “It’s a hard opportunity to pass up, a nice cargo just waiting.... But all right, if you find the money we can lie low for a month or even two. Isn’t it going to be hard now the earl’s in residence?”

  “I don’t think it makes much difference unless it’s hidden under his bed, and it isn’t. I’ve checked all such places already under cover of the inventory and spring cleaning. I confess, I expected finding it to be much easier. He had to be able to get at it, to add to it and take from it.”

  “Perhaps he spent it all on potions and dried diddlers,” he said with a grin. She’d shown him the earl’s bedchamber, and he’d nearly died laughing.

  She swatted at him. “Remember, I was his secretary. I know what he spent. From what he received from the Horde, even just in recent years, there should be over two thousand in gold coin somewhere. That’s not exactly easy to hide, even in small caches around the place, and if there were small caches, I should have found at least one.”

  “Perhaps a secret room, or secret chamber in the walls,” David said.

  “I know, but that could be anywhere. At least there’s very little paneling.”

  “I need to let Vavasour know in two days.”

  “Two days! Very well, I’ll buckle down to a ruthless search—for cunning hidey-holes in particular. Which reminds me. Con’s brought a secretary with him.”

  “Con?” he said with interest.

  She prayed not to blush. “I knew him as Con once. It slips out. Listen, his secretary—”

  “Of course he has a secretary.”

  They were beginning the steeper climb up to the Crag, and perhaps that was why her heart beat harder. “Well, he’s set him to going through all the records and papers. What if there’s something there about smuggling?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “The earl was as crazy about his administration as about everything else. He scribbled notes to himself and pushed them in odd places. He did the same with letters he received.”

  “I very much doubt that Mel wrote him letters.”

  “I know, but I feel as if de Vere is bound to uncover something.”

  He smiled at her. “We’ll play that hand when we’re dealt it. It’s not like you to be in such a fidget.”

  Again she longed to tell him the truth, but she’d hide her past—all her past, if she could.

  “It is time for you to give up your job there, though,” he said. “It’s not suitable.”

  “If I can’t tell you how to manage your affairs, you can’t tell me.” She stopped to catch her breath, something she couldn’t remember having to do before. “You work for him,” she added.

  “I’m his estate manager,” he said, not breathless at all. “That’s suitable employment for a gentleman. Housekeeper is different. Are you all right?”

  No, no, I’m not. I’m afraid, and confused, and both longing to see Con again and terrified of him.

  “I’m just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night either.”

  He put his arm around her and hoisted her up the last bit of hill before the flatter land around Crag Wyvern. “I won’t try to order you around, Susan, but I’d like you out of that place and not worrying about me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I do intend to find a replacement, but I have to have a last try for that gold first. As for not worrying about you—how?”

  “Perhaps you need to get away from here.”

  She stopped in the chilly shadow of the great house. “Away? You want me to go away?”

  “I don’t want you to, but I don’t want you constantly worrying, either. I can’t promise to live safely for you. You know that.”

  “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just out of sorts today.”

  “Ah, that time of the month, is it?”

  It wasn’t, but she smiled and said, “You know too much about women.”

  He laughed and they carried on toward the gargoyle-crowned arch that led into the house of the demented earls of Wyvern.

  Chapter Eleven

  Con had fled Crag Wyvern. His official excuse was to inspect his estate and tenants, but he’d taken young Jonny White and fled to the normal world, which was so easily forgotten inside the Crag’s fortress walls.

  After an hour or so he was soothed by the normality and good health of this part of Devon. He noted the strange quietness at first, and the absence of people other than the old and young. As the day advanced more people inhabited the scenery, all pleasant enough, and eager to talk to the new earl. All smugglers the night before.

  He accepted the hospitality of one cottage to share a hearty midday meal, chatting about farming matters as if that were what put the food on the table.

  He sensed all around him the unspoken question: What was his attitude to smuggling? He gave his ans
wer as best he could without talking about it—he didn’t intend to change anything.

  It was true. Any attempt at sudden change would be disastrous. However, it was his duty to try to put a stop to the Freetrade eventually, and to prepare the people here for the change that would inevitably come.

  He mentioned the naval cutters now patrolling the coast, and the number of army officers and men looking for peacetime employment. When an elderly woman blessed the fact that the war was over, he commented that they were also blessed that the government should need less money and could reduce the iniquitous duties on things like tea.

  She agreed wholeheartedly, showing that none of the simple folk understood the implications—low taxes would reduce prices, and that would take away the profit in smuggling. No one was going to take on the risk and the work for a ten-percent return.

  The burden of it pressed on him. This place needed a lifetime’s care, and he didn’t want to give it his life. He could leave the simpler part of it to his estate manager, but he needed to either give Kerslake more powers or hire a steward. That could wait until he had the measure of Susan’s brother. He vaguely remembered a rapscallion with a toothy grin.

  Zeus! He couldn’t leave everything here in the hands of her and her brother!

  The property seemed to be in good heart, at least, with crops growing and animals healthy. The sorry summer had not had too serious an effect in these parts. The cottages and farms were in good repair, and the people looked well fed. There was even a school in Church Wyvern run by the curate’s wife with assistance from Miss Amelia Kerslake. He was invited to admire the large room furnished with benches, slates, a globe, and a good selection of books.

  All paid for, he was sure, from smuggling, but there was much to be said for prosperity, no matter where the money came from.

  He managed a word with the curate, who expressed himself delighted to help sort through the earl’s private collection of books. The hearty young man confessed to great curiosity about them.

  “Have an interest in the dark arts, do you, Mr. Rufflestowe?”

  “Know thine enemy, my lord,” said the curate, but a twinkle in his eye admitted to simple human curiosity.