Captain's Lady

by Sharon Milburn

  Smedley nodded vehemently in answer to Sir Edward’s question. “Aye, that he did. Right out of my shop. Only I was too quick for him, see.”

  “How did he come by this injury?”

  “That? I gave him a quick backhander, of course. No miserable whelp like him is going to get the better of Jeremiah Smedley. Hanging’s too good for him.”

  “Hanging? Surely that’s a bit extreme.”

  The baker drew himself up. “Hanging is the penalty for stealing, that, or transportation. A few years at Botany Bay would soon sort him out.”

  The mention of Botany Bay brought all of Alice’s experiences back to her with sickening clarity. The little boy, now visibly trembling in front of her, didn’t deserve such a fate. She spoke up.

  “May I pay you for the loaf, Mr. Smedley? Surely we can forget all about this.”

  “That you can’t, miss. The minute my back’s turned he’ll be doing the exact same thing again. Him and every other brat in the village. I’ll be a laughingstock. I’ll thank you not to interfere.”

  “And I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head!” Joe Delacourt rose hurriedly to his feet. How dare you talk to a lady like Miss Carstairs in that manner?”

  “That’s enough, Joe. It’s obvious Smedley is bent on pursuing this course of action. It’s time we heard from the boy.”

  “It’s only lies you’ll be getting from him. This is all a waste of time. I should have taken him straight to Winchester all along.”

  “You chose to fetch him here, however and I shall conduct this investigation as I see fit.”

  Perhaps it was the look in his eye, or maybe the tone of his voice that did it, but Smedley felt the full force of Edward’s personality. Abruptly he sat down and assumed an air of injured humility that didn’t fool anyone.

  “Now, boy, tell us your name and where you live. Speak up and don’t be afraid. Nobody here will hurt you.”

  The urchin sniffed and dragged his tattered cuff across his nose, further smearing the still-oozing blood.

  “My name is Jem Tyler, sir. I live with me mum in t’village.”

  “I see. And what of your father?”

  “He were a soldier in the army. A sergeant. A cannon ball took his head off at Corunna.”

  Alice winced at his matter-of-fact explanation, but Edward took it in his stride. “So you need to steal to keep starvation from the door. Is that it? Cannot you find work, or your mother, for that matter?”

  “No, sir, that’s not it. Ole Smedley has bin cheatin’ us for years. His bread’s always short measure—”

  The baker leapt toward the boy, shaking him with one meaty fist as he raised the other to strike him.

  “That’s enough!” Sir Edward’s roar stopped the angry man dead. “Get back to your seat at once, sir. You’ve had your say. Let the boy have his.”

  “I told you he’d be full of lies. I’m an honest man, that I am. Ask anyone.”

  Alice muttered, “You’d better not ask me,” but kept her head down as she wrote the transcript of the proceedings. She could feel her fury rising with every word the baker uttered, but what could she do? He had the law on his side, after all.

  Young Jem wiped his eyes, but stood up straight. “He knows my mum can’t fight back and Sir Gregory, he never did nothin’ to stop him, even when she came and asked. Smedley’s cheated her and cheated her and my mum, she can’t work any harder, doin’ the washin’ and scrubbin’ for anyone that asks. Only there’s not a lot of work to be had. I can’t find any. I only took what was owing to us.”

  The brief show of defiance faded and two tears started to roll along his filthy cheeks, leaving a trail of paler skin behind.

  Sir Edward’s voice had lost its harshness, but it was still stern. “And that was a loaf of bread. A whole quartern loaf. Four pounds of bread.”

  Jem swallowed his tears. “He’s lying about that as well. It was only a bit of a loaf and stale, too.”

  Smedley started to rise to his feet again, but Edward’s look quelled him.

  “Were there any witnesses?”

  Jem shook his head. “No, sir, there weren’t.”

  Edward sat back in his chair and sighed. He looked around the room. Alice could tell that he had come to an unwelcome decision. Like it or not, he would do his duty.

  “You’ve admitted taking the bread, Jem Tyler. My hands are tied—”

  “Wait!” Alice rose to her feet. “Mr. Smedley, have you sold all your bread today?”

  He glowered at her “That I haven’t! I had to close my shop to come traipsing all the way over here for all this nonsense. I’ll know better in future and that’s a fact.”

  Alice smiled at Jem, then turned to Sir Edward. “Jem claims he took what was owed to him, because Mr. Smedley is selling short measure, which is a very serious offense indeed, as I’m sure you’ll agree.”

  He looked puzzled for a moment, but nodded, allowing her to proceed. Trying to quell the bubble of triumph threatening to burst out, she explained.

  “All we have to do is go to Mr. Smedley’s shop and weigh his quartern loaves. I know we have scales in the kitchen. Lavinia bought them on a whim, but they were never used. Cook was insulted at the very thought of her wanting to check the quantities.”

  She knew at once she’d scored a hit. Smedley’s face had turned pale. His air of bravado disappeared completely. Sir Edward wasn’t slow to read the signs, either.

  “An excellent suggestion, if I may say so. Smedley here has claimed to be an honest man, so he has nothing to fear. Is that right?”

  Smedley swallowed hard and ran a finger round his collar. “No, none. I’ll just go ahead and have the shop open for you.”

  “And I’ll come with you, you sneak!” Joe Delacourt sprang to his feet. “I’ve dealt with your sort before, as has Captain Masterman. Er, I mean, Sir Edward. If rascally pursers can’t get the better of us, you stand very little chance, as you’ll soon find out.”

  Sir Edward did his best to hide his smile. “An excellent suggestion. I thank you for volunteering your assistance, Captain Delacourt. No one could dispute the impartiality of a captain in His Britannic Majesty’s navy. Pray send a message to the stables to have the horses put to on your way out. We’ll be with you directly once we fetch the scales and call on Mr.s. Tyler. I believe she should be present to see that justice is done.”

  Smedley would have spoken further but Captain Delacourt bore him out of the room, deaf to any protests.

  “Miss Carstairs, would you be so good as to give young Jem a glass of milk and perhaps some bread and cheese while we wait for the carriage? I’m sure he could do with it.”

  Jem’s face showed nothing but amazement at the course his fortunes had taken. He began to object to having to wash his hands and face, but then caught sight of the generous serving Alice was about to set before him at the kitchen table. As she turned to pour some milk she saw him slip a piece of bread into his pocket.

  He realized she’d seen his actions and flushed bright red. “It were for me mum. I’m sorry, miss. I’ll put it back.”

  “No, no, that’s quite all right. You’re a very loving boy, Jem, to think of your mother when you’re so hungry yourself.”

  His answer was somewhat muffled by the large mouthful of bread and cheese. “Well, miss, she’s me mum. She’s all I’ve got.”

  “And very lucky she is, to have a son like you. Don’t worry, Jem. Sir Edward will sort this out for you.”

  His eyes filled with tears. “Yes, miss. I know he will. He’s a right proper one, he is, nuffin’ like—” he caught himself up, but she knew what he meant.

  “Yes, Jem, not like him at all. Eat your food. We need to go.”

  The sight of Mr.s. Tyler’s anxious face as the carriage drew up to the shabby hovel exercised a powerful effect on Edward. “This woman must be one of my tenants,” he exclaimed. “I had no notion of her existence.”

  Explanations were brief, but Mr.s. Tyler quickly unders
tood what was afoot and snatched up a shawl before hurrying to the carriage. She hugged her son tightly, then shook him by the shoulders.

  “Jem! What have you been up to? I never know from one minute to the next what you’ll be doing and that’s a fact. Haven’t I told you to be careful of Smedley? I warned you he’d do something like this. There’s no fighting his sort.”

  She sounded surprisingly educated to be living in such a hovel. Jem had said that his father had been a sergeant. Poor woman, to have been reduced to such desperate circumstances. Alice’s musings were interrupted as they drew up at the bakery.

  Captain Delacourt stood on guard as a nervous Smedley rushed forward to open the carriage door. “I’ve been thinking, Sir Edward. Perhaps there’s been a mistake. I’m more than willing to withdraw the charge. The boy is right. It was only an old piece of stale bread I was going to throw away.”

  Edward looked him in the eye. “I’m quite sure a mistake has been made and I’m beginning to realize who has made it. We will proceed, if you please.”

  It took only a few moments to set up the scales on the counter in the shop. They were checked to Edward’s satisfaction, then Joe Delacourt’s and finally the baker was invited to examine them. There were five quartern loaves left on the shelves. Not one of them reached the required weight. One was less than three and a half pounds.

  Smedley almost groveled as he pleaded. “It were only this batch, sir. I’ve got an apprentice and he can’t be trusted to do anything right. It’s never happened before, I promise.”

  “You’ll drop all accusations against Jem Tyler?”

  “Of course, sir. Anything you say.”

  “You’ll pay Mr.s. Tyler what you owe her? I think the value of one quartern loaf a month since the death of her husband will suffice.”

  The baker gasped, as did Jem and his mother. He turned surly. “You can’t prove—”

  “No, but I can prove five separate offenses here. Think about it.”

  Smedley thought. It didn’t take him long. “I’ll pay.”

  “Good, I’ll see to it that you do. Every last penny. There remains only one more thing to be done. Mr.s. Tyler, I would like to offer you a position. I would like you to keep these scales and once a week weigh one of baker Smedley’s loaves, to be chosen at your discretion and also the day to suit you, being different each time. Of course you may come in more than once a week if you deem it necessary. Just in case there are any more…mistakes. I’d also like you to examine the loaves for adulteration. I’ll pay you five shillings a week.”

  “Five—” She could say nothing more. Tears flowed down her face as she reached out to clasp Edward’s hand.

  “She’ll do it, Sir, o’ course she will.” Jem could barely refrain from jumping for joy. “Everybody else in the village will thank you for it, too. I bet ole Billings the butcher will be looking over his shoulder too, once word gets round.”

  “That settles it, then. There’s no more to be said. Mr.s. Tyler, would you be so good as to dispose of these underweight loaves? I’m sure Jem will be delighted to help you carry them. Perhaps some of your friends and neighbors would take some off your hands?”

  “I’ll see to it, sir. Thank you. God bless you and yours.”

  “It’s nothing but my duty to look after all of my tenants. Justice has been denied too long in these parts, I think. That has now changed. Smedley, do you have anything to say?”

  The stunned baker could only shake his head.

  “Good! Very wise of you. I’ll give you one more warning. If I hear even a whisper of an attempt to obstruct Mr.s. Tyler in the performance of her duty I will apply the full force of the law. Do I make myself clear?” He waited for acknowledgement. “Then I shall bid you good day. Come, Miss Carstairs, Captain Delacourt. I believe matters have been settled very satisfactorily.”

  Jem lost no time in snatching the loaves up into an old flour sack and scuttling out of the door before Smedley could intervene. The gentlemen and Alice entered the carriage in silence. Not until it had pulled away along the main street did Captain Delacourt let out a whoop.

  “Edward, you Trojan! Did you see that fat rascal’s face! He’ll never make a mistake like that again.”

  “I hope not, but I have Miss Carstairs to thank for showing me the way out of my dilemma. I would have committed Jem to the assizes before she intervened. The longer I live here the more I see how my brother neglected his duties. That the wife and child of a hero of Corunna should have been left in such want is a disgrace, but alas it no longer surprises me as once it would. Gregory had lost much of his decency, it would appear.”

  Alice tried to cheer him. “I would never have thought of employing Mr.s. Tyler to keep Smedley honest. That was a stroke of genius.”

  “Absolutely.” Joe Delacourt agreed. “Killing two birds with one stone. The widow would have been one of those prideful sorts refusing charity, if I know anything about her sort. He always was a knowing one, Miss Carstairs, even as a lieutenant. He’s lost none of his cunning.”

  Alice smiled at both of them, but the warmth was kept for Edward. “And none of his generosity.”

  Chapter Twelve

  When the carrier called at the kitchen door asking to see her, Alice’s first thoughts were of another turtle. Her alarm proved false. There was no sign of a turtle, or of any other package for that matter. Smailes had a worried look upon his face.

  “Mornin’, Miss Carstairs,” He said, knuckling his forehead with a far from clean finger. “My cousin’s girl, wot’s maid to Lady Masterman, is fair vexed. She sent me with a message. Her ladyship’s done and gone off with that furrener.”

  Alice gasped. “I beg your pardon, Smailes. She’s done what?”

  “Gone off on a ship with that Spanish gent. Our Jenny had to pack her trunks for her. She even took the pictures off the wall. Would have taken Jenny, too, if she hadn’t refused to go.”

  “And Penelope, what of her?”

  His scorn was withering. “Oh, no miss. She only took what was valuable, like. She didn’t go so far as to take her daughter. That’s just the point. Our Jenny has the girl on her hands and no money nor orders nor nothing. Just up and went, she did, without so much as a goodbye and Miss Penelope sent off for the day. Poor little soul.”

  She couldn’t believe the evidence of her own ears. “This is simply terrible!” Alice tried to think. “Please wait, Smailes. Cook will let you have some ale. I’ll fetch Sir Edward directly.”

  She hurried off to the study. How could Lavinia have done such a thing?

  Edward and Joe Delacourt were settled comfortably either side of the fireplace, reading the latest London papers. There was no doubt now there would be an engagement. It was only a matter of how soon. Wellington in Brussels wasn’t happy with his army and said so. The more he could delay the better it would be for him. The reinforcements being rushed to his aid were sorely needed.

  Both men sprang to their feet as she entered.

  “I beg your pardon for disturbing your morning, Sir Edward, but I’m afraid I must fetch you directly. There’s a problem needing your attention. The carrier has called with a message from Lyme.”

  Edward set his paper down with a resigned sigh. “What has Lavinia done now? Run up another bill?”

  Alice shook her head. I’m afraid it’s a little more serious than that. It appears she may have left the country.”

  That caught his attention. He stared at her. “She’s done what?”

  “The carrier has just now told me. Apparently she’s gone.”

  Joe Delacourt spoke up. “My dear fellow, your family is a never-ending source of entertainment for you. You’d best go listen to this fellow and I’ll take a stroll to the stables. I foresee a visit to Lyme in the offing.’

  Would you do that, Joe? You’re the best of good fellows and an excellent friend. I’m imposing on your good nature quite abominably.”

  Joe laughed. “Not at all, Ned. One never knows what will happen next.
It’s a most refreshing change from blockade duty and all the tedium and monotony that goes with it.”

  Sir Edward spoke to Alice as they headed for the kitchen. “So, tell me more about this freakish start of my sister-in-law.”

  She took a deep breath. Best to get it over with. “I regret to say the carrier believes Lavinia to have run off to Trinidad with Señor Garcia.”

  “What? That Spanish Don?” Edward stopped dead with surprise. “How accurate is this information?”

  “Very accurate, I’m afraid. His source is Lavinia’s maid herself. She’s his cousin’s daughter.”

  To her immense surprise, a smile spread slowly across his face. “Well, if it’s true, good riddance to her. Your cousin or not, Alice, she’s the most awful woman one could have the misfortune to meet in many a long day. Garcia is welcome to her. They make two of a pair.”

  “Yes, perhaps I must agree with you there, but what of Penelope and Gabrielle? The baby is too young to know, but Penelope is quite a different matter.”

  Again he stopped. “You mean to say she’s left her behind?”

  “Lavinia’s self-interest appears to have overcome any remaining shred of maternal feeling. In fact, she sent her out for the day and was gone by the time Penelope returned. Her maid has been left with the little girl on her hands and with no means of even feeding her.”

  Sir Edward resumed his march to the kitchen. “I suppose nothing that woman does should surprise me, but this is totally beyond the bounds of decent conduct. Let’s hear what this carrier fellow has to say.”

  An hour later Smailes, with his belly full of ale and a half guinea in his pocket for his trouble, headed off down the drive just as the carriage was brought round from the stables. Ready for travel, Edward and Joe Delacourt made their farewells to Alice and her mama. Edward looked quite rueful as he spoke to Lady Sarah.

  “I fear your duties are about to become a good deal more burdensome, ma’am. Penelope is no minor charge to be placed on anyone.”

  Lady Sarah smiled. “I may have a solution to this problem, but we’ll discuss it further when we return, my dear sir. Just bring Penelope back home and we can deal with it then.”