Goss glanced around. They were standing beneath cliffs, which, to the right, sloped away to more gentle terrain and cottages clinging to a lower incline. ‘Where am I?’ the captain asked
‘Ravenscar cliffs. That’s Robin Hood’s Bay.’
He nodded. He knew of the fishing village and the bay, which was a notorious graveyard for storm-bound ships driven ashore.
‘I’m Captain Goss of The Seagull out of Hull. Are there any other survivors?’
Heads were shaken and the bearded man said, ‘None. We found no one else. Two other ships foundered as well. We found timbers from their bows, the William Hustwick and the Lena.’
‘We all left Hull together, bound for the Baltic.’ Goss glanced round at their doleful faces, panic in his eyes. ‘I must report the news!’
‘You need medical attention first,’ the bearded man pointed out.
‘I’ll survive. What I need is help getting to Hull. If there is no other means of getting there, I’ll take a horse.’
‘But . . .’
‘I ride. I worked on a farm before going to sea.’
‘I’ll let you have a horse,’ someone offered.
‘Thank you, Mr ...’ Captain Goss started to move towards the speaker.
‘Wilf Gregson,’ the man introduced himself. ‘Come with us.’ He indicated the woman next to him. ‘My wife, Mildred.’
‘You can have a bite to eat while he gets the horse ready.’
‘I’m obliged, ma’am.’ Goss glanced round the crowd. ‘Thank you all for your concern. If there are any questions, the three ships belonged to the firm of Hustwick’s in Hull.’ On legs that seemed hardly to belong to him, he stumbled after his Good Samaritans.
Half an hour later he was riding fast for Hull, the thrumming of the hooves matched by the name repeated again and again in his tortured mind. Lena Hustwick . . . Lena Hustwick . . . this was all her fault and she must pay.
The news of the shipwrecks spread quickly to nearby Whitby. Ralph Bell received the news in his office and was saddened and horrified to hear of this loss of life for which, in some part, he realised he was responsible. But Lena Hustwick had fallen for his bluff when she need not have done. Greed had been her downfall. Ultimately the blame was hers. Meanwhile he had Carnforth’s vessels to direct. They need not sail. Well, not to the north, that could wait until after the winter. Now they could head for southern markets left open by Hustwick’s losses. He would inform the captains of the change in their sailing plans.
Captain Goss had recognised a strong animal as soon as he saw the mare and did not spare her on his ride to Hull. She responded well as if knowing the urgency of her mission. The white-flecked, steaming horse, ridden fast, attracted attention when he reached Hull, and people quickly recognised the Grimsby captain or else heard his shouts of: ‘All Hustwick’s ships lost!’ The news spread through the streets like wildfire; soon knots of people were gathering, and comments and opinion ran rife. Lena’s insistence that the ships sail in bad conditions had not gone unnoticed by the townsfolk.
Peter, making his way to the office, gasped when he heard some news being shouted from person to person. Three ships lost? It couldn’t be true. Yet he sensed the information must be right; there was no reason for anyone to set such a rumour abroad, and last night the weather had been cruel. Voices ran like a river through the streets and the name of Hustwick was spoken everywhere with loathing and condemnation.
Peter kept his head down, hoping people would be too busy talking to each other to notice him. He gathered from the storm of abuse hurled at his wife that her insistence on the ships’ sailing was widely known and she personally was being blamed for what had happened. There was every indication the townsfolk were forming into a mob and he feared their anger would prevail if the situation got out of control. Although he had not condoned his wife’s order, and knew there was every justification for people’s hostility towards her, he could not let Lena face them alone. He must go to her.
Captain Goss realised he had set the fire and vowed he would be at the office before it gathered heat. He pulled up outside the building and was out of the saddle almost before the horse had stopped. He flung the reins to an urchin looking to earn a copper or two. ‘Look after her,’ he called to the boy, who caught the reins. Before he could say anything, Goss was into the building.
He did not wait to be announced but ran straight up the stairs where, without ceremony, he flung open the door to Lena’s room and stormed in.
‘You cruel, murdering bitch!’
A shocked Lena jumped to her feet. ‘Captain Goss! What . . .?’
He cut her short viciously. ‘Your three ships are lost, and I am the only survivor. You wouldn’t be told, would you? You greedy, stupid, good-for-nothing she-wolf! All those good men gone because of your stupidity; you who wouldn’t listen. All those ruined lives! Widows and orphans face a bleak future . . . because of you!’
The hatred blazing in his eyes sent a shudder through Lena. The horror of this news stunned her. Her face drained of colour, she sank down on her chair. It was finished for her then. She foresaw nothing but contempt and hatred wherever she went in Hull. Everyone here would hold her responsible for the deaths and the dire consequences they brought in their wake. She saw that a reputation for risking the lives of others would never leave her. Her world lay in ruins, and with it her ambitions.
Hustwick’s, with which she had been determined to wreak her vengeance and seize control of Carnforth’s, was finished. She had lost Peter’s inheritance and had nothing of her own to fall back on save for the six-monthly credit stipulated by her father and rent from the house. There would be virtually nothing left. How could she face Peter?
Even as these and other questions raged through her mind, she was aware of Captain Goss continuing his tirade against her. Accusation and condemnation assailed her. She clasped her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the damning words, but failed.
The door burst open then and Peter burst in. He had heard the last expletives shouted at his wife by Captain Goss. His stride did not falter as he swung his fist at the captain, catching him square on the jaw. Leaving the man unconscious on the floor, Peter grabbed Lena’s arm.
She recoiled from the condemnation and disgust in his eyes, too. For one moment she saw that he was on the point of leaving her alone, to face the consequences of those ill-judged, selfish orders which had sent so many men to their deaths. But then his look changed to one of pity.
‘Come on, before things get too ugly out there,’ he urged, bustling her out of the door. On the landing, she stood frozen in indecision, terror stark in her face. Outside she could hear the jeering and catcalls of the families of the lost men and their sympathisers, gathered outside the building. They were demanding retribution for her insistence on forcing the ships to sail,
She stared at Peter, unable to speak. ‘Come on, it will be all right.’ He did his best to sound reassuring as he propelled her to the bottom of the stairs, where she resisted again. ‘We’ve got to get out of here before that mob turns ugly. Is the trap out the back?’ he called to Frampton who had been drawn into the corridor downstairs by all the commotion.
‘Yes, sir.’
Peter hustled his wife outside. As soon as she was in the trap, he was beside her, urging the horse on its way.
The trap swayed with their gathering speed and Lena held on tight as Peter urged the animal away from the building before their escape was discovered.
He came out on to one of the main thoroughfares. When he judged they had put sufficient distance between them and the office, he slowed the horse, not wanting to attract attention. They kept up a reasonable pace until he pulled the animal to a halt outside Greta’s house.
Greta jumped to her feet, alarm in to her face when she saw the agitated state of her cousin and his wife. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘We need to stay the night,’ said Peter. ‘I’ll explain after I’ve seen to the horse and trap
.’
The urgency of his tone was not lost on her. ‘I’ll get Gideon to see to that.’ She was already at the bell-pull, signalling for her groom to be called.
As soon as the door closed behind him, Greta said, ‘You both look as if you could do with a drink.’ She poured two glasses of wine and encouraged them to take a sip. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’ she enquired.
Lena’s glance told Peter to make the explanation, and she knew from the look he gave her in return that he would hold nothing back. It seemed as if the whole world had turned against her. But what else could she expect? She started to shake.
Greta noted it. She picked up her shawl, which she had laid on a chair earlier, and draped it round Lena’s shoulders. ‘Now tell me,’ she said, looking to Peter for an explanation.
‘We have lost three ships,’ he began, and even Greta’s astonished ‘What?’ did not stop him then. Words poured out of him like a tide: inexorable, overwhelming, their meaning stark and inescapable. ‘So, you see, with a crowd howling for Lena’s blood, we could not go to either of the houses. They would be sure to think of looking there. I hoped you might help.’
‘You don’t think they will look for you here?’
‘Few people know of our relationship, and those who do will not be among the baying mob.’
‘Of course you can stay here, but what do you propose to do next?’ she said.
Grim-faced, Peter shook his head. ‘Right now, I don’t know. By morning I hope to have a solution. Otherwise . . .’ He gave a little shrug of his shoulders.
‘Anything I can do, you know you only have to ask,’ said his cousin. She glanced at Lena who, numbed by the dreadful turn of events, sat in silence, shoulders hunched as if to ward off a blow.
Greta got to her feet and went to the bell-pull. ‘The beds are always ready, you can stay as long as you like. Come, Lena. A bath for you and then a rest, I think. We’ll talk more tonight.’
Lena got meekly to her feet as if all free will had been drained from her. Peter felt a brief pang of sympathy for her. This pale-faced, shivering creature was not the woman he had married. She was a stranger to him now and he was not sure if that would ever change.
It was an uneasy meal that evening, with no one wishing to broach the subject of the future; Lena fearing what Peter’s decision might be, Greta not wanting to interfere, and Peter undecided where his future lay, but knowing a decision had to be made, for both their sakes
Unease hung between them as he and Lena made their way upstairs. Once the bedroom door clicked shut they were cocooned in a world that seemed to have no connection with what lay beyond, but one word out of place now could shatter that illusion and plunge them into a course from which there would be no return.
The word that broke the spell and brought past and future clashing together was spoken by Lena. ‘Sorry.’ It did not seek forgiveness nor seek to give an excuse.
‘Sorry!’ Peter’s eyes were blazing. ‘How deep-felt can such a word be in these circumstances? You have destroyed lives. You have destroyed me. Our future is ruined. Why did you have to send those ships out when all those with more experience were against it? You could see the weather was deteriorating . . .’
The words stung Lena and sparked retaliation in her. ‘I couldn’t foresee it would worsen!’
‘You were determined to take no notice of wiser counsel, just to satisfy a whim.’
‘I sent them out to make money for us.’
He laughed derisively. ‘Don’t try to justify your actions! They were driven by only one thing - your obsessive desire to have your revenge on a dead brother.’
‘Step-brother!’ she screamed. ‘A Carnforth in name only! That firm should have been mine!’
‘And your obsession has brought us to ruin. Don’t think I haven’t been aware of what you were trying to do.’
‘And you were too weak to stop me!’
Peter grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Never that. But I made a mistake. I thought running the firm alongside me would be sufficient for you. I allowed you more power, thinking that would satisfy you, but you could not content yourself even with that. You sent those ships to their doom. I bitterly regret my part in it all. I should have done more to stop you, but I was afraid that if I did it would destroy the love we had. Now . . .’ He let his voice trail away.
She grabbed his arms and, wild-eyed, met his condemning gaze. ‘Peter, I’m sorry . . . so terribly sorry. I thought I was securing a future for us all. You, me . . . our son.’
‘We had more than enough already,’ he said coldly.
‘I know that now and regret what I did. What can I do to make amends?’
‘Do?’ he spat.
Lena realised she was fighting for her future. ‘I love you, Peter. Please ... don’t desert me.’ Tears started rolling down her cheeks.
He pushed her roughly from him. She collapsed on the bed, sobbing, as he strode out of the room.
In her bedroom, Greta heard his footsteps cross the landing and go downstairs. She listened intently but only heard the drawing-room door open and close. She would have gone to him but knew she had no right to interfere. They would have to resolve matters for themselves, and let tomorrow bring what it would.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Greta came down early the next morning, she found Peter standing staring out of the drawing-room window. She noted that his greatcoat and hat were laid on a nearby chair.
‘I heard you come down. Have you been here all night?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ Seeing concern in her expression, he added quickly, ‘I’ve been well attended, and it gave me time to think. I’m glad you are down before Lena. I want to be away before she is up.’
Greta frowned. ‘Things are that bad between you then?’
‘I will not deny it.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t wish to disclose that because I may not be able to put into practice what I have in mind. But I would like you to do something for me.’
‘I will do whatever I can, you know that.’ Greta could not hide her affection for him or her desire to help.
‘Take care of Lena until I get back. I think it best you both leave Hull without anyone knowing where you have gone, not even the servants here. Lena’s life could still be in danger from some hot-head. What I suggest is that you go to Weaver Hall. I have written a letter,’ he indicated a folded paper on the small table next to the window, ‘to Charles and Marcia, asking them if you and Lena can stay there until I come to fetch you. I can’t say how long I’ll be, but don’t expect it to be inside a week. Explain to them only as much as you think necessary. ’ He turned to pick up his coat but Greta stopped him.
She grasped his arms and looked intently into his eyes. ‘I will do all I can for you and will anxiously await your return. Take good care, wherever you are going, and may whatever you do turn out to be the right decision.’ She kissed him on the cheek.
Peter smiled, hugged her to him for a moment and was gone.
In the half-state between being awake and still asleep, Lena slid her hand across the bed. The expected contact did not come, bringing the realisation that she was alone. She was jolted awake and for a moment lay there, unaware of where she was. Then recollections of yesterday pierced her like shards of glass.
Peter! Where was he? She needed him; she craved his reassurance. She flung the bedclothes back, swung out of bed and rushed from the room. The house was silent. Panic gripped her, sent her hurrying down the stairs to fling open the door to the dining-room where she felt a measure of relief to find Greta seated at the table.
‘Peter? Where is he?’ cried Lena, her voice pleading for an answer.
Greta was rapidly on her feet, coming forward to place her hand on Lena’s arm in reassurance. ‘He has things to attend to. He will return.’
‘Where is he? Where?’ cried Lena. ‘I need him here.’ Her face was twisted in distress.
‘I don’t know whe
re he had to go but he did leave instructions with me,’ said Greta, gently leading her to a chair. ‘Sit down and let me explain.’
Bewildered, she automatically did as she was told and stared at Greta.
‘Peter thinks it would not be safe for you to stay in Hull. He has asked me to take you to his friends at Weaver Hall, where he wants you to remain until he comes to find you. He has written a letter asking them to accommodate us both.’
‘But didn’t he say where he was going?’
Greta shook her head. ‘He would not tell me. Said only that he might be away more than a week.’
‘Oh, Greta, I can’t bear it! I need him here, I need his forgiveness.’
‘We can do nothing but place our trust in him now.’ Not wanting this exchange to be prolonged, Greta said firmly, ‘We must be away as soon as possible. The carriage will be ready in an hour. You get dressed and have some breakfast. ’
Lena wanted to protest but knew she had no choice but to do as she was asked. The only mild objection she made was to say, ‘I’ll need some clothes.’
‘I’ve thought of that and packed some of mine for you. We cannot possibly think of going to either of your houses, in case they are being watched.’ Seeing the anguish on Lena’s face, she quickly added. ‘I believe the hostility will die down eventually. But until then we must do as Peter wants. Please hurry.’
In spite of her disturbed thoughts, Lena found a measure of comfort when Weaver Hall came into sight. Its solid mass set amidst tranquil countryside, far from the upheaval of Hull, represented stability and peace to her. How she wished that Peter was beside her now and they were coming on a social call, to enjoy time spent with friends. Tears came with the realisation of all that had been lost through her own fault.
‘What have I done?’ she cried, turning a pleading face to Greta.
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