To Sleep No More

by Deryn Lake

  ‘My dear Lieutenant Grey,’ Lucy Trevor was saying, extending a hand in Nicholas’s direction, ‘how very good of you to call. I believe that Grace misses all her friends from Mayfield.’ At Nicholas’s puzzled look, Mrs Trevor laughed and added, ‘You will know her as Henrietta, of course. She does not think her first name suits her.’

  ‘But it does now,’ thought Nicholas, seeing his dear one so pale and quiet.

  ‘I like both names,’ he answered tactfully, and kissed Mrs Trevor’s outstretched hand with a certain warmth. He saw her shoot an appraising look at him from eyes which, though very different from her daughter’s, were equally brilliant.

  ‘Come and sit next to me, Lieutenant,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Henrietta tells me that you are a very adventurous young man and I should so like to hear about some of your exploits, that is if you are permitted to speak of them.’ He nodded assent and Lucy Trevor went on, ‘My daughter also says that you are an outstanding musician. Will you play for me and the elder girls after we have dined? I shall send the younger ones out that we may listen in peace.’

  ‘I should be pleased to do so, ma’am.’

  ‘And have you brought your lute?’

  ‘It is in my saddle-bag. I rarely travel without it.’

  ‘If I had half your gift,’ said Henrietta, speaking for the first time, ‘I would never be separated from a lute either.’

  Obviously something of his feelings for her must have shown in Nicholas’s expression just then, because, as he smiled his thanks at her, Henrietta lost colour and looked at the ground. After that she did not address another word to him, even though the meal took well over two hours to consume. Nor did she do anything more than clap when, finished at last, she, her mother, Elizabeth, young Lucy Trevor, Mary and Anne took their places in the gallery to hear Nicholas play; while from below came the sounds of Margaret, Ruth, Gertrude, Arabella and little John being led away for a game of ninepins under the lime-trees.

  As always, Nicholas was transformed when he struck the strings and Mrs Trevor, looking at the mobile features, found herself wishing that this young man who obviously cared for her daughter so desperately, came from a different station in life and that it would be possible for her to welcome him into the family.

  But such thoughts were swept from her as she leant back in her chair, closed her eyes, and heard the lyric notes of a love song steal through the room. It brought back so many memories that Lucy Trevor found herself weeping silently, mourning more than she had done for months the loss of her own dear love who had gone from her when he had been not yet forty years. As the music ended, Mrs Trevor opened her eyes again to see that Henrietta, too, was crying silently into her handkerchief.

  ‘Thank you, thank you, Lieutenant Grey,’ the hostess called, beating her hands together. ‘Now I will tax you no further. I am sure that you would like Henrietta to show you the park. It is very beautiful in the late afternoon and I feel certain you could do with a little air after your exertions.’

  Bowing to Mrs Trevor, Nicholas offered Henrietta his arm and, without saying a word, the couple descended the great staircase, went out through the quadrangle and crossing the path that ran over the ha-ha, found themselves alone at last.

  Now, with something approaching determination, Nicholas made for a sheltering clump of trees and it was only then, when he was quite sure that they were hidden from prying eyes, that he turned Henrietta to look at him and said, ‘What is the matter? You have not yet said a word to me, and you are as pale as death. Henrietta, what is troubling you?’

  She did not answer, merely shaking her head from side to side, the tears beginning to course down her cheeks again. ‘Is it Challice? Has he deserted you? Is that it?’

  ‘No, no,’ she sobbed. ‘He has not deserted me. He has had to go away to save his life. He is hiding ... No, I must not tell you, of all people ... But he will return, when he has enough money to invest, and take his place as a gentleman.’

  Nicholas laughed aloud. ‘Sweetheart, Challice could never be a gentleman if the moon turned blue. What you mean is he will give up highway robbery and settle down. That is a very different matter.’

  Henrietta looked annoyed. ‘It is cruel of you to laugh, Lieutenant Grey. Jacob loves me and wants to marry me.’

  ‘And your mother will give her consent, I suppose?’

  ‘If he has reformed and calls himself a merchant, perhaps.’

  Nicholas shook his head. ‘Then if that is the case, why are you so miserable?’

  His tone was bitingly sarcastic and he knew it. But he was past caring. He loved Henrietta boundlessly, endlessly, and now he had to stand and listen to her weep for another man. But worse was yet to come.

  ‘It is not just the parting, Nicholas. It is that I am so afraid.’

  His tone became more gentle. ‘Of what, sweetheart? Nothing can hurt you while I am here to protect you.’

  Her voice dropped to a whisper and she clutched his arm. ‘Can you keep your own counsel? If I tell you something, do you promise you will pass it on to no other?’

  ‘I swear it on my life.’

  ‘Then I believe that I am with child.’

  The world spun and the stars went out and Nicholas Grey realised that it only took a second for a heart to break. ‘I see. It is Challice’s obviously.’ She nodded and a ray of hope came back. ‘Did he take advantage of you, was that it? Did he force his attentions on you? If so I’ll kill him for it.’

  ‘No, no,’ she said, starting to weep again. ‘I gave myself to him — not once but many, many times — before we parted company. It is my fault just as much as his.’

  Nicholas made no answer, fighting off hot, furious tears.

  ‘I see that I have shocked you. Oh dearest Nicholas, I couldn’t help myself. One day you will meet a woman who means everything to you and then you will know what it is like to be in love.’

  He pulled her to him roughly. ‘I have already met her and it is you, as well you know. Why, I would give my life — and willingly — to change places with that bastard. Oh, God damn it, Henrietta, you have broken my heart.’

  He pushed her away and turned his back on her to hide the fact that he openly wept. She came and stood beside him and said, ‘If Challice did not exist then I would love you for ever, Nicholas. You see, I do love you. But not in the way you want me to. That’s the tragedy of it. But that does not stop the feeling nonetheless. It is there and always will be. I care for you deeply, Nicholas Grey.’

  They were in each other’s arms, their tears mingling as they both wept for the sadness of the situation, and then they exchanged one great and powerful kiss. In that kiss was everything they had always meant to one another, all their past love and friendship fused in a moment that transcended passion, and became something rare.

  ‘I will love you to death,’ he whispered.

  ‘And I you. Nicholas, my own dear friend.’

  They said no more, walking hand in hand now, perfectly in harmony.

  ‘How can I help you?’ he said after a while. ‘Do you want me to take a message to Challice? I swear that I will not betray him. I presume he does not yet know about the child.’

  ‘No.’ Henrietta stopped walking and turned to look at Nicholas, her eyes very serious. ‘Nicholas, you may not believe this, but I think I was fated to bear Challice a baby.’

  ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘You must not laugh at what I am going to tell you. Do you promise?’

  He nodded, and she went on, ‘Mr Langham, the surgeon, has discovered a technique by which he can send patients into a day-dream and in that state their minds go back to the past. You look incredulous but it is true.’

  ‘Did Mr Langham experiment on you?’

  ‘He tried to but it failed, and though I begged him to do so again he refused. But Challice is convinced we have been lovers at least once before. If so I may have borne him a child in another life.’

  Nicholas sat down on a tre
e trunk. ‘I don’t believe this. Not a word of it. When you die you go to heaven, not on to other lives.’

  ‘How do you know?’ asked Henrietta, sitting down beside him.

  He could not answer that. A memory was coming back to him; a memory of his music-teacher shaking his head at Nicholas’s parents and saying, ‘I can teach him nothing further. He has brought the gift into the world with him.’ And of his wondering at the time what it could possibly mean.

  ‘You are right,’ he said slowly. ‘Nobody has probed death’s secret. It was narrow-minded of me to answer as I did.’

  ‘Then you do not scoff?’

  ‘On the contrary,’ answered Nicholas with determination. ‘I shall ask Mr Langham if he will conduct the experiment on me.’

  Seeing the shadows begin to lengthen, they stood up and began to walk slowly back to Glynde Place.

  ‘What do you want me to tell Challice?’ said Nicholas.

  ‘That I must join him if what I suspect is true. That I would rather my good mother was faced with a runaway daughter than the shame of a bastard birth.’

  ‘And will he stand by you?’ asked Nicholas, not to denigrate his rival but to reassure himself.

  ‘He will. He believes that we are meant to be together. Nothing will make him go against that.’

  ‘Then whisper to me where he is and I promise that I will find him for you.’

  Henrietta stood on tip-toe and there, in the early evening sunshine, she and Nicholas Grey gave each other one long last kiss of farewell, before she began to murmur in his ear.

  *

  Knowing that there was a price on his head, Edward Jarvis rarely ventured forth without the protection of either his brother or another member of the Mayfield gang. But this night, at the end of a blisteringly hot day and with both Kit and Emmy in London, he craved not only a deep draught of ale but also a little human companionship. Knowing that he would be safest of all in the Royal Oak in Mayfield, Edward saddled up one of the nags that they kept at Stream Farm for local errands, and set off.

  It was an evening of crystal clarity, the trees of Snape Wood etched like fingers against a sky which was a bowl of light, splintered here and there with silver clouds. Birds swooped everywhere and in the distance a cuckoo sang his song of summer above the roses of Wenbans.

  The Oak was very full, all the labourers coming in to slake their thirst after the exhaustions of the day. But though he was recognised, Edward knew he was safe. There was no one there who could not be trusted — either by reason of bribes or threats — and he sat down in a dark corner and set about getting a little drunk.

  Much to Jarvis’s horror as his eyes got used to the dim light he saw that someone else sat in the corner, someone who was gazing at him with velvety eyes — the deep mauvish shade of a flower, and full of admiration. Embarrassed, Edward quaffed his jug in one and called to the pot boy to give him a refill.

  A soft, educated voice spoke from the gloom, ‘It would give me great honour, Sir, if you would allow me to make the purchase for you. I have long been an admirer of yours — and of your brother also, of course. I do have the pleasure of addressing Mr Edward Tomkins, alias Jarvis, do I not?’

  Edward’s hand shot out and grabbed the speaker’s wrist like a vice. ‘Keep your voice down, you fool. Nobody speaks my name in public. Show yourself if you want to live. Lean forward into the light.’

  The man did so and Edward could not help an involuntary gasp, so handsome a creature sat before him. ‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ the man said, smiling. ‘John Dinnage — known to my friends as Dido. I have recently left university and have no settled future so am here to throw myself on your mercy, Mr Jarvis.’

  These last words were said with such a winning look that Edward felt the dreaded lurch of its heart which he always thrust down so ruthlessly.

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Introduce me to your brother that I may beg to join your organisation.’

  Edward frowned. Much as he found the young man captivating, something about the story did not ring true.

  ‘Why should life as a free-trader appeal to a university graduate?’

  Dido leant forward, his knee accidentally pressing against Edward’s. ‘For two reasons,’ he whispered, ‘one that I support our true king, James; and the other that I am amoral.’

  Jarvis stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just that. I want to know the thrill of smuggling because it is against the law; I want to take risks and cheat. I was born for sensation, Mr Jarvis. Any sensation. I cannot help myself. Wickedness excites me.’

  Edward — only too aware that Kit would be furious if he found out — said, ‘We can’t talk here. It is dangerous. Where are you lodging?’

  ‘Here at the Oak. Shall we speak further in my room — or would that give rise to comment?’ He gave an engaging grin.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Edward shortly. ‘We’d better go to Stream Farm.’

  ‘Where is that?’

  ‘Near Wadhurst. It is where we lie low.’

  ‘So I can actually see the place where the great Jarvis brothers plan their runs — and take their women?’

  Edward did not answer, merely saying, ‘I shall leave the Oak now. Follow me in five minutes time,’ and was rewarded by Dido giving him a smile that spoke not only of gratitude but also of unimaginable delights to come.

  *

  The meal had been excellent and, now that the ladies had withdrawn, an elegant sideboard decorated with scrolls and rams’ heads was opened to reveal a row of chamberpots. These were passed round with the port and the gentlemen relieved themselves. Then, very comfortable, they settled back to smoke pipes, drink and converse until they rejoined the ladies, Nicholas Grey thinking how very different from his recent dinner at Glynde Place when he had been the sole adult male.

  John Langham was entertaining the Bakers and one or two others and, rather to his surprise, Nicholas had found himself included amongst the guests. Yet the mystery was made clear when Mr Langham, ever the considerate host, had said, ‘I wondered if you might play for us, Grey. The ladies enjoyed it so much at the palace and I know they would like another opportunity of hearing you.’

  Nicholas had bowed and brought his lute, which now lay awaiting the moment when the surgeon would signify they were ready. But at present the gentlemen were in full flood of conversation and the subject under discussion was the sudden disappearance of the highwayman of Pennybridge.

  ‘Do you know where the villain went, Lieutenant?’ asked George loudly.

  ‘No, Sir,’ answered Nicholas unblushingly.

  ‘I reckon he’s dead in a ditch somewhere,’ put in a bluff country-spoken man. ‘I’ll wager a guinea Kit Jarvis put him out of the way. They don’t like intruders on their territory, you know.’

  ‘Do any of us?’ asked Thomas, flapping the air with a lace handkerchief. ‘Damme, I take it amiss if anyone should occupy my place at the gaming tables, so I do.’

  Nizel, going very red, said, ‘I think fights over territory are ridiculous, particularly at the level you have just mentioned.’

  ‘Fights over territory stem from the animal kingdom,’ John put in urbanely.

  ‘But we are not animals,’ Nizel answered, ‘we are meant to be civilised human beings.’

  ‘Well, there is nothing civilised about smugglers and highwaymen,’ said the bluff man crossly. ‘They are vermin and deserve to be put down. But if they kill one another, all to the good say I. Saves us the trouble, what? Though I must say I enjoy a good hanging.’

  Listening to it all, Nicholas’s thoughts went racing, wondering what he could do to get Henrietta away from such a dangerous life, yet knowing that — unless the highwayman deserted her — she was bound to marry the man. If only he had fathered the child, Nicholas thought grimly. What a different future he could have made for her.

  His thoughts were interrupted by John Langham rising with the customary words, ‘Gentlemen, shall we join
the ladies?’ adding, ‘I am sorry to hurry you but I know how anxious they are to hear Lieutenant Grey play.’

  The bluff man said forthrightly, ‘I think I’ll stay here if you’ve no objection, Langham. No offence, Lieutenant, but I never did have an ear for music.’

  John smilingly nodded consent and the rest trooped into the saloon where Lucy, Philadelphia and the bluff man’s wife — a small birdlike woman with darting brown eyes — had arranged themselves prettily about. Philadelphia, Nicholas noted with alarm, was already dabbing at her eyes and as she saw him she started to sniff, saying chokingly, ‘Music always makes me cry so, particularly that of dear Lieutenant Grey.’

  ‘I will try to be merry,’ he answered, hoping he was in good enough spirits.

  The summer sun was still high as the young man sat down, his back to the light so that the features of his face were cast into shadow. And today as Nicholas began to play it became almost impossible, with the slant of the sun’s rays, to look at him clearly. Despite his promise to Philadelphia, the airs he chose all had an underlying note of melancholy, of a longing for love that could never be fulfilled, of a searching and seeking for a soulmate that could never be his. And it was just as he had finished a serenade that Nicholas, looking up, saw Lucy gazing at him with a strange expression on her face, almost as if she was seeing him properly for the very first time. Her lips formed a word but he could not read what it was and Nicholas bent once more to the lute.

  By the time he had ended his recital not only Philadelphia wept. He saw to his astonishment that both Lucy and Thomas, of all people, were suspiciously red about the eyes, and John Langham was blowing his nose loudly. He assumed from this that he had performed well but tonight Nicholas’s thoughts were so far away that he could not recall a note.

  ‘My dear Sir,’ said the surgeon, holding out his hand. ‘What can I say? You played superbly. I will admit frankly that I was moved to tears.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said the birdlike woman. ‘Ever so pretty. Well, I must go and fetch Roger before he falls asleep amongst the pisspots.’ She laughed uproariously and went out. And it was in the slight murmur after her departure that Nicholas took the opportunity of saying quietly to his host, ‘Mr Langham, I wonder if I might have a word with you in private. Would it be possible for me to stay on for a while after the other visitors have gone?’