by Summer Devon
Carne had subsided into his seat and noticed Phillip raising a hand to get Trennick’s attention. “May I speak?”
“Your things were ruined, and you seem to know all about our business now, so you might as well,” Trennick said.
Phillip rose and looked around the room. “As you all know, I came here to learn stories of the past and take photographs of local spots for a travel book. During the course of my visit, I learned more than I probably should about the village’s current efforts to earn a living. I swear to all of you I’d never share than information.” He pushed up his glasses and regarded the men at the front of the room. “I won’t press charges for the damage to my motorcar or camera since the constable is apparently one of those responsible for it. Contacting a lawman outside the village would only bring undue attention to you all. And I believe I speak for both Carne and myself when I say we’re willing to overlook our abandonment to a slow, suffocating death in a cave.”
Clever Phillip drew out the words slow and suffocating to remind everyone what peril they’d been in. “I propose these conspirators tender fair payment to the village, as well as to Carne and myself. Surely they’ve saved quite a nest egg from their private endeavors. Then I recommend they gather the rest of their goods and leave Par Gwynear forever.”
“What about me?” The younger Mitchell piped up. “I was forced into helping. I never wanted to be a part of it. And I want to stay here. ’Tis my home.”
“Shut yer gob.” His father spoke at last. “You’re a bloody dobeck. I knew you could hardly keep your mouth shut. That’s why I didn’t tell you everything. You’ll be lucky if I take you with me.”
Carne winced. He didn’t think much of the younger Mitchell either, but to hear one’s father had such a low opinion must be painful.
“Half their earnings,” someone called from the back of the room. “Fair enough for scoundrels such as these.”
A woman’s voice chimed in. “Half the jewels and gold too. That should see the entire village through next winter.”
“Longer than that,” Phillip muttered.
“We have no contact in the city to sell those items for us,” Carne pointed out. “I’ve seen the cache firsthand. These are not the sort of goods that would be easy to unload, paintings and fancy things that might be traced back to the original owners. I vote we leave them for Gwalather to dispose of and merely take our fair share of the rest of their shipments.”
Phillip whispered in his ear, “I do know some gentlemen I could approach about this, but I suppose we should wait to see what those wicked pirates have to say for themselves.”
Gwalather had sat in his chair throughout the discussion, scowling like a gargoyle. Now he added his voice to the clamor in the room. “Great lot of boobies, all of you. Importing dress goods and wines and making pence instead of pounds.” He jerked a thumb at his chest. “I was the one to see what could be. I was the one to arrange a deal to earn three times as much per run. I’ll be damned to hell if I give up one penny of what I earned to you lot.”
“I don’t believe you get much choice here,” Trennick said.
“Aye, that’s a vast ocean out there to shove you into, Gwalather,” someone called out.
“I say we send them all overboard, splash, splash, splash,” yelled another with obvious glee
“Hang on, hang on. I didn’t do more’n turn a blind eye, which is what I do for you all,” bleated Jacobs.
“Shut your face,” Gwalather said. “Jesus, can you even believe it?” He looked around the room and growled to no one in particular. “He’s m’oldest friend—we grew up together! And still he threatened to tell his superiors if I didn’t include him.” He leered at Jacobs. “Otherwise, why would I have bothered with you, you lazy old hound. Never carried so much as a small crate.”
The only one he hadn’t aimed a barb at was Mitchell the older, who glared at a spot near his feet, wearing an expression that seemed even more unpleasant than usual.
Phillip rose from his place on the bench. “Have we established that if these gentlemen don’t deliver their, ah, loot, men will come to Par Gwynear hunting for them?”
No one answered. Phillip looked at Gwalather. “You couldn’t have enough money to cover the cost of the items I saw in that cave. The question is, which angry mob would you rather face, those who have offered reasonable ideas and compromises, or the people to whom you’ve promised to deliver a fortune? One assumes you’ve got nice savings put aside already, but it couldn’t pay for that stash.”
“We can be a right nasty mob too,” someone shouted. “Carne, you’re the one. You go to London with the miserable bastard and bring back our money.”
Carne rose to his feet. The chattering slowed. “Send someone else,” he said. “I have no wish to go to London. These men didn’t care if I lived or died. I don’t want to spend a minute more in their company than I must. Just force them to give up a portion of their money and send them on their way.”
“There will be no coming back for them,” Bea called out. She and her young man stood against the wall near the main doors, shoulders touching. “Those greedy bastards will never set foot in the Stoney Ground again, and if I see any of them on the road, I’ll shoot ’em.” Not an idle threat, Carne suspected. Bea owned one of the village’s few shotguns, and everyone knew she was a good markswoman.
Young Mitchell gave a horrified cry. Robin bounced up from his spot and once again described the scene at the Mitchells’ place and how he’d discovered the son locked up by the father.
“He was terribly upset and worried about our safety,” Phillip added.
After some more discussion, the group decided that that young Mitchell could pay up his share and stay among them. A few people wanted to strip the Mitchell house down entirely, but Carne put a stop to that idea. “He needs a few sticks of furniture. But yes, both Mitchells will give over any earnings from their shipment work outside the Concern.”
“All of it?” the older Mitchell said, sounding pitiful rather than sinister. Perhaps he’d been broken at last.
“Every ha’penny,” Trennick said.
At the same instant, Phillip said, “They ought to be allowed to keep a bit.”
“Here, now. You’re no villager nor part of the Concern.” In his Sunday-best black suit and fiercest scowling face, the usually mild Trennick had to be angling for a position of power. God bless the man for taking on the job directing Par Gywnear’s business, but Carne couldn’t let that last statement pass.
“Professor Singleton”—Carne ignored Phillip’s whisper of “Not a professor any longer”—“was the one most injured by Gwalather’s nonsense. The professor’s belongings were destroyed, or close enough. He nearly lost his life. Don’t you forget that for an instant, Jermyn Trennick.”
Trennick held up a hand and gave a wide smile that showed the gaps in his back teeth. “Fine, we’ll take a vote to decide if the villains can retain a portion of their profits that they don’t deserve. We’ll do what it takes to keep the peace, eh? Shall we do a show of hands on this?”
“That’s right about time you recalled we’re a democracy hereabouts,” Bea called out. “Carne Treleaven, don’t let that upstart take over your job.”
Carne exaggerated putting a finger to the lips to get her to be quiet. “Hush, ma’am. He’s welcome to try to keep these ill-mannered pillocks in line.”
Trennick looked exasperated, but Bea flashed a small, quick grin at Carne, and he returned her smile, enormously relieved to have his old friend back. Her new paramour glared at him and put an arm around her shoulders and she obviously liked the possessive way he held her.
Carne felt a stab of longing. Not that he could touch Bea, but that he wouldn’t be able to embrace the person he fancied in any sort of public place. Ponder that, Carne, he thought. You’re making a tough decision.
Phillip tipped his head back and gave a glorious laugh about something Robin said to him, and Carne instantly understood the new pa
th he took was well worth the hazards. Good thing, since his attraction to Phillip no longer felt like a choice but something imprinted in his marrow.
“Let’s get a move on,” Trennick said. “We need to decide what’s to be done with old Mitchell, Jacobs, and Gwalather.”
After some more discussion, it was decided to leave them in the possession of their ill-gotten gains to deliver and a pound or two at the most. They’d put them on a train to London. Catcalls and side discussions broke out.
Carne stopped paying close attention. The village wouldn’t kill them, and soon all this would be behind them. He had faith that Trennick, who did a fine job of listening to suggestions, would decide on a reasonable course. He woke from a reverie about what he’d do with Phillip, when Robin groaned loudly. No train trip for him after all. It was decided that the culprits would be banished and given a wagon—a battered wooden thing that belonged to Mavis, who’d be paid handsomely, of course.
Eventually, the three captives were bundled back into the small room along with some food and two buckets—one with water, one without. Carne felt a pang of sympathy for them, but that momentary weakness passed soon enough.
The meeting broke up, and he and Phillip began the walk back to his cottage. The wind had picked up again, carrying the usual tang of sea and seaweed. He didn’t usually notice that flavor, but today he’d decided life would change. He might abandon the sea and leave that scent behind.
Now, he thought. They were alone, and Phillip might leave, and Carne must speak at once.
“I love you.” He said each word carefully as they began to tramp across a field to his cottage.
“I beg your pardon?” Phillip’s steps slowed, and he hunched his shoulders into the wind that picked up again.
“I said that I love you.”
“Oh, dear me, no. No you don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I feel. I bloody well love you.” Carne wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or snarl. “And I suspect you have feelings for me as well.”
“Perhaps but…” Phillip walked more quickly.
Carne had to jog after him. “Here now, slow down. It’s hurting my arm and head to go so quick.”
Phillip dropped back to a stroll. “Oh, Carne! Carne! I care about you. But love? Oh no.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Had anyone made such a declaration to Phillip before? I love you. Those words threatened to knock him flat on his back with shock, joy, and something close to hope, quickly followed by fear.
Phillip knew he must do more than contradict Carne, but the astonishment of such a statement had just about stolen the breath from him.
“Go on.” Carne sounded calm now, even amused. “You tell me why I’m wrong. For a man with so many words, you’re too quiet.”
Phillip swallowed the thickness that had gathered in his throat, and told the truth. “Several times in my life, I have been absolutely certain I was in love. I wanted to sing with pleasure just thinking about…about those people. I believe I would have given up everything—my wealth, my work, my home—to make a place with them.”
“And what happened?” Carne asked. “I know you got hurt, but didn’t you love them for a while at least?”
“No. I was mistaken. I believe you have to know a person thoroughly for love to be genuine.” Or so he told himself, over and over, but still his heart was fixed on Carne. “The first—I thought because I knew Gavin’s smell and smile, and what made him laugh, I knew him. After all, we spent hours talking about his interests and his dreams.” He stopped. “How odd.”
“What?” Carne didn’t seem offended at mention of a past love, only interested.
“I have only now realized we rarely discussed my interests. Perhaps that was a sign?” That seemed likely, for Professor Davis hadn’t shown much curiosity about Phillip either.
“A sign of what?”
“Oh, that what I loved couldn’t be real, I suppose. Or wouldn’t last past the slaking of desire.”
Carne moved his arm, then winced. Before Phillip could ask if he was all right, Carne went on, “I can tell I’ve spooked you with this talk. I’m scared too, you know. I had no notion I’d ever want a person as much as I want you. A man.” He shook his head. “I’m not even sure how this happened.”
“It’s not an easy life, you know.” He’d mentioned Gavin but hadn’t told the entire tale. Now he realized it was important he share how drastic the consequences of love could be. “Gavin worked in my parents’ stables. He was much older than I, and I was very naïve for my age. I foolishly believed his profession of affection…right until the day he demanded money from me to keep silent about our affair.”
Carne sucked a sharp breath at this admission. “What did you do?”
They’d both stopped walking. Now Phillip folded his arms and stared at the horizon. It was too difficult to meet Carne’s gaze. “I’m ashamed to admit at first I tried to gather the funds he demanded. My allowance wasn’t that large, however. As I counted pounds and fretted over how to secure the rest, I grew angry. I would not pay and accept the consequences.”
“What did he say when you told him?” Carne’s calm voice made it easier to push on and dredge up details Phillip had long ago laid to rest.
“I pointed out if he exposed me, he would reveal himself. I believed that would be the end of it. For wouldn’t a working man fear exposure even more than a prominent man’s son?” He gave a harsh laugh. “You would think so. But I didn’t count on him being willing to blackmail my parents as well. In order to save our family name from besmirchment, Father was forced to buy off Gavin.”
“Mm.” Carne made a guttural sound and reached out to take Phillip’s arm.
Phillip glanced down. He hadn’t realized he was trembling, or that this very old history could still affect him so greatly. Carne squeezed his arm and didn’t let go. Phillip swallowed hard before he continued.
“From then on I lived mostly at boarding school and went to Uncle Downlaw for holidays. Father and I had never been close. When he banished me from the house, it was almost a relief. But it was the loss of my mother’s love that hurt the most. She spoke to me only once—to tell me I was disgusting. She returned any letter I’ve ever sent. My secret horrified her so much she has never forgiven me. My parents still live, you see, but they may as well be dead.”
Tears ran freely down Phillip’s face. He dashed them away. Carne’s good arm went around Phillip’s back, supporting and sheltering him.
“So you see how badly things can go when love is involved? If one or both of your sisters learned about you, what would they say? How would they treat you? Can you bear to live a secret life? Can you bear to tell them the truth? These are the sorts of questions that must come up if we are…if we were to…” Phillip felt as short of breath as when they’d been trapped in the cave. He could not go on.
Carne rubbed a hand over his beard and remained silent for a time. But he didn’t remove his arm from around Phillip. At last he spoke, “I will take your story to heart. I understand the seriousness of this. I’ll keep talk of love to myself and slow down. You’re right. This is nothing to rush into. But first you listen, Professor.”
“You’ll always call me that, won’t you?” Phillip said.
“Yes, I shall. Forever and ever. You might be right that we know little of each other. We still have much to learn. But what I know about you, I love. And I do know a great deal about you, Professor. Your smell, as you said. What makes you laugh and what’ll set you off cursing or what will start you up giving me a lecture on some interesting topic. I already know what’ll make your eyes go soft.”
Phillip sighed. “I feel as if I’m spinning.”
“You’re dizzy?” Carne sounded alarmed.
“No, no. I am a sort of child’s top turning too quickly from sorrow to joy and back again.”
“Ah, but please end with the joy. You do that so well.”
He pointed a finger and made a big circle in front
of Phillip’s face. His smile flashed strong and gentle, a combination that made Phillip’s heart ache.
“What I’m saying, for instance, makes you beam like a lighthouse’s lantern.” He gave a tentative laugh. “No, I called you a puppy. No one is happier than a puppy, except maybe another young creature. No one’s happier than you that I know of, and I’m already addicted to your joy.”
Phillip’s heart beat so fast, he had trouble catching his breath. He wanted to crow yes, yes, I love you too, but he wouldn’t. Not yet.
Carne started them walking again, still with an arm around Phillip’s back, “I want to be with you. I think I’d give up my home, my wealth, and my livelihood to follow you.”
“No, please don’t sacrifice yourself,” Phillip said, panicked.
“Hardly a sacrifice if thinking on it makes me want to jump with joy. A chance to trail around after you while you travel? I’ll grab it. I’ll have a bit of money from the Concern. Not nearly the fortune you have, of course, but you don’t seem to want to spend your money for as much as a haircut, so I should be able to keep up with you.”
“You have a place here, friends, a position of responsibility.”
“I haven’t been free of any of it since I was a lad. I’m ready for some other kind of responsibility, maybe help you hold your camera—your new camera, I mean. We’ll buy one in Penzance or Truro, maybe. Don’t let those bastards stop your book, Professor. Please don’t.” He scratched his head. “I’m not sure what I could do to help. I’m not good at writing or much of a reader, but I can remember things well. You talk to people who don’t want you to scribble, I’ll remember what they say. I can carry your equipment, eh? Or I’ll find something else to occupy my time. As long as I can see you some days of the week, I’ll count myself content.”
Phillip had to look away. How could something as magnificent as Carne’s offer make him want to run and hide? “I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said at long last.