‘Go to your room, Harry.’
‘Ah, my silken prison.’
‘Do it,’ was sharply delivered, not there to brook an argument. Spafford pulled a face and did as he was bid. As Betsey made to move, Henry spoke again. ‘I think that knife be best handed over to me, Elisabeth.’
She spun round and glared at him, a look that encompassed Sarah Lovell who stood alongside him. ‘Come close and it will be you who feels it.’
‘I don’t doubt you mean that, and I fear your dear aunt would not be safe from your ravings. So I will send a couple of people from the stables to take it off you. I doubt you’ll stab a servant, you’re too fond of the breed. If they fail to do so, they will pay the price of dismissal.’
‘You bastard,’ got Lovell hands to the Lovell lips in shock. On Henry, it had little effect.
‘A category not unknown in our family, but I am not one of them. I am master in this house and, for you, controller of your fate. The knife?’
It was thrown at his feet, while she turned and fled to her room to lock the door, throw herself on her bed and break down in tears. In the hall, Henry picked up the blade and gave it to his aunt.
‘This can go back to where it belongs. And perhaps Cook should be told to lock it away. Now, oblige me by telling Grady I want my coach ready in half an hour.’
The journey into Deal left plenty of time to reflect on all the matters concerning him, not least his sister’s behaviour. Was it grounds to reckon her deranged and was that a solution to keeping her under control? He was on his way to a Lodge dinner and medical coves would be there too: one, indeed, had supplied him the drug used to subdue Elisabeth on her wedding night, never asking a question as to what it was to be used for.
He would consult with the fellow and, if it seemed favourable, it might be best acted upon. What to do then about Spafford was a problem of a different nature, but he was sure a solution could be contrived.
Brazier had the horses out of the stables and lined up ready to depart when Admiral Braddock appeared from Admiralty House, which had his inferior officer wave to prevent Dutchy and the others emerging carrying the muskets; even if they were wrapped in canvas, their shape would give them away.
‘Off somewhere, Brazier?’
‘A little jaunt with my old crew, sir,’ was the forced reply of a mind scrabbling for an excuse, the one which emerged sounding feeble. ‘If it takes me far enough, I may call upon Sir Eustace.’
‘Long way to Pollock’s, is it not?’
‘We would rest the night there, sir, as I have done before.’
‘Well, give him my best wishes if you do.’
With that, Braddock bustled off towards the Lodge and the dinner he was looking forward to attending, one in which the talk would not be exclusively nautical. Behind him, Brazier signalled to wait until he disappeared, before calling the lads out. Dutchy had a long length of rope coiled round his body, while Cocky had the grappling iron, the canvas-wrapped muskets being lashed on to the saddlery.
Peddler was his usual unhappy soul when it came to riding and Joe, who was a bit scared of horses, was told to mount Canasta, which Brazier would lead. On the way back, now the plan had changed, he would double up with Dutchy.
Sure that Braddock was well gone, they passed through the Navy Yard gate with a nod to the ex-tar in charge. By the time they passed Sandown Castle and hit the northern marshland, which would take them to Sandwich Flats, Admiral Braddock was on his second glass of wine. He was also deep in conversation with Henry Tulkington, wondering why the fellow kept looking over his shoulder, as if seeking out someone else, until he put it down to a less-than-polite habit.
‘Rum business that riot the other day, Tulkington. Had to deploy some marines to make sure they never came near the Yard. You’re lucky to live well away from such things.’
‘That Brazier fellow was burnt out, I gather.’
‘He was, and a body found in the embers.’
‘I heard. All on the rumour of a connection to our First Lord of the Treasury.’
‘Balderdash, as I keep telling anyone who will listen. Had to put him up at Admiralty House, so I’m seeing a bit more of him than I would strictly welcome.’
‘Any more on that West Indies business you were telling me about?’
‘No. Stuff and nonsense, probably. That said, he is an odd cove. Keeps men with him who were on his ship, which must be costing him a pretty penny. Loyal they are, too, though only the Lord knows why he’s provided them with muskets. Some nonsense about hunting rabbits, one of my officers told me.’
The sudden pallor on Henry’s face Braddock put down to genuine surprise.
‘Saw him going off as I came here, his men as well, I should guess, given he had all their mounts out and saddled.’
‘Hunting rabbits?’ was not really a question.
‘Damn silly weapon for it,’ Braddock snorted. ‘Hitting a barn door is trouble enough with a Brown Bess, never mind a scurrying rabbit.’
A voice from the dining room announced that dinner was about to be served and would the gentlemen take their seats, Braddock turning to look at the sound of the voice. When he spun round again to say it might well be an idea to get a refill before going in, it was to find Henry Tulkington gone.
The two lounging men, having a bit of a snooze inside his coach got a shock to hear him yelling, even more at the rush he was in. ‘Get me to the slaughterhouse, now!’
The Lower Valley Road, which they took, was the usual mix-up of carts refusing to give way to each other and not fussy about which side they occupied. This made it a journey that had Henry thumping the opposite seat in frustration. On arrival, he leapt out and headed straight for John Hawker’s upstairs office, to discover it empty.
Once back on ground level, it was ‘Find him’, to whoever was about, his coachmen included, which sent half a dozen people to scour Deal to locate him and, when he was found, to get him to hurry back to the slaughterhouse.
‘Every man you can spare, John, to Cottington. And make sure they are armed.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
Brazier did not take to Dan Spafford on first acquaintance. Mind, he had still to warm to Daisy Trotter, so, when it looked as though they were going to discuss his business in front of their men, and that would include Betsey, he laid down an immediate objection.
‘Another room.’
‘What you frightened of?’ Spafford demanded.
‘Loose talk.’
Spafford shrugged and led the way to the room in which he had had occasion to lock up his son, not that such information was vouchsafed to him. That left Dutchy, Cocky, Joe and Peddler sharing less than pleasant glances with the Spafford gang.
‘I take it Trotter has told you what has happened to your boy?’
‘Fallen on his feet, by the sound of it. Mind, I expect the Tulkington bitch is too refined for his tastes.’
‘I wouldn’t go callin’ her a bitch, Dan.’
‘Why not?’ he grunted.
‘Because I might just put a ball in your skull,’ Brazier spat. ‘That is why.’
Spafford squared his shoulders as if ready for a fight. ‘Never met a woman who was owt else.’
‘Looking at you, I can see why.’
‘Stop it, both of you,’ Daisy pleaded. ‘Think on the purpose.’
It took a few moments of mutual glaring before Brazier spoke, his voice tight.
‘As I told Daisy, I want to get my lady out and away. Then you can walk through the open gate, but not before.’
‘You comes it high and mighty, matey.’
Brazier realised he had a problem and it was in that remark that his son had fallen on his feet. It was a stupid slip of the tongue because it implied he was thinking about money, Betsey’s money. He might not stick to the agreed bargain, as related by Trotter, because legally it belonged to Harry.
He had to keep a straight face as he gnawed on this, wondering if he would have to kidnap that sod to get what he wa
nted. Whatever he decided, this was not the place to make it happen. There had always been a risk he was delivering himself into the hands of some very unsavoury people, but the die had been cast and it was go forward or abort. Even that would be hard, given the numbers in this house, four times his own. They could just take the key Daisy knew he possessed.
‘I struck a bargain, which I will stick to. All I ask is that you do likewise. Am I right to assume there will be no one guarding Cottington Court?’
‘Never is, normally, though he arms his coachmen. Tulkington keeps the likes of Hawker away from the house. Feart of the connection becoming too well known. Pure as snow is Henry Tulkington, and beyond the reach of the law.’
‘He was there the last time you tried to rescue Harry.’
‘Happen he was forewarned.’
‘Or clever enough to anticipate what you would do, once he had him.’
‘Same thing. But he won’t keep them around. Sets tongues waggin’ that does.’
‘Well, it should be safe enough tonight. But I ask again, will you stick with things as they have been arranged?’
That got a shrug. ‘Why would I not? As long as I get my Harry and a bite at Tulkington, I will rest content.’
‘What do you have in mind for him?’
‘D’you care?’
It would not suit to have him murdered, that Brazier knew. He was too well known and seen as a pillar of the community. His death would not go unpunished and who knew how many would get caught up in that? But there was little point in saying so; it was not in his hands.
‘No, I don’t. You have weapons?’
Brazier meant his gang; Spafford had two pistols in his belt, one of which he patted. ‘Primed and loaded. My lads have muskets.’
He pulled out his watch from his waistcoat. ‘Time to go, then. The house should be well asleep by the time we get there.’
They could have taken the Canterbury Road part way, but Spafford said that was unwise, which left them following footpaths strange to the Brazier contingent. This killed off an idea he had to open a gap between them, for him to be there in time to get Betsey out of the house and on her way. Ideally and originally, he wanted to pass Spafford on the way out of Cottington and be well gone before anything else happened.
The notion of snatching Harry had to be abandoned. It would lead to a firefight and Betsey could be with him. If he couldn’t get old man Spafford to stick to the deal, surely Betsey’s own testament would be enough to ensure her assets were rendered untouchable? She didn’t need them, anyway; he had more than enough for them both.
It was eerie riding along, with Bonnie picking her own route bar the odd tug on the bridle, the landscape around them bathed in a not very bright silvery glow of a half-moon and starlight. It had turned cold as the warmth of the day rose into the clear night sky. There was the occasional mumble from behind him and, once or twice, a curse as one of Spafford’s men tripped on a hummock of grass or a tree root.
There was also the feeling of being cut off from reality, one often experienced at sea, where you could sail for weeks and not sight either land or another sail. That was rendered different by the odd hooting owl and, once they got closer to Cottington and Moyle’s church, the swish of bats missing their heads by a fraction. Then the brick wall loomed up, black and forbidding, to be followed until they came to the north gate.
As they dismounted, Joe took the reins to hold the horses steady, while the weapons were untied and made ready for use. Dutchy uncoiled his rope, even in near darkness having no difficulty lashing it to the grappling iron.
It was then tossed skywards to grip on the top of the wall with a metallic clang that sounded as if it could be heard a mile away. Tugged until it dug into the brickwork Cocky, the most nimble of the four, took it from his mate and pulled himself up, ’til he could lean out and jam his feet on the wall.
Then it was an upwards walk until he got a leg over the top, the grappling iron being detached and reversed. Soon even Cocky’s outline was gone as he slipped down the inside. Brazier was close enough to the high wooden gates to hear the movement of the chain as he sought the padlock itself, then the slot for the key.
There was an extended rattle as the chain was pulled out and seconds later one of the double doors opened. About to tell Spafford to wait, Brazier was nearly bowled over as the whole of his gang, their leader at the head, ran through the opening, leaving Brazier and his men to follow. There was no shouting, but a lot of cursing, to no purpose.
‘Let’s move. I don’t want them getting to the house before us.’
He did not want to contemplate what might be the level of betrayal that had suddenly occurred. What if Spafford got to Betsey first, and took her as well as his son? What would he do then?
There was a pathway and Brazier could vaguely pick out the figures in front of him, they being in no rush. He, ahead of the others, had just caught up with the last of them, entering a sort of clearing in which the sky and stars were visible, when they were suddenly surrounded by lights, lanterns unshaded, with others holding either a pistol or a musket. Then came an unmistakable voice, speaking as if he was simultaneously laughing.
‘Well, well. I seem to have caught a shoal, not just a few tiddlers as I expected. Harry, would you believe it? Your pa has come to try and rescue you again, which, I must say, I did not expect. And I’m sure I spy a certain fellow who is, along with those he pays, fond of hunting rabbits when not in pursuit of wealthy widows.’
‘How in Christ’s name—?’
Spafford was cut off before he could finish the question, not that he was left in want of an answer. Tulkington moved out to be visible, John Hawker beside him, both with cocked pistols.
‘When are you going to learn that nothing happens in Deal of which I do not know?’
‘Give me my Harry and this ends, Tulkington.’
‘Have you asked yourself if he wants to be rescued? I assume you, Brazier, have not come on his behalf?’
‘Your sister is a tool in a sham marriage, which I intend to expose.’
‘What a fine pair of fools you are.’
That was an accusation that hit home to Brazier; whichever way he turned this sod seemed to be able to humbug him. Right now, he was wondering if a surrender of their weapons would suffice to get him and his men out unharmed. There was no point in continuing.
‘Harry, boy,’ Spafford pleaded. ‘Come away with me. We’ll leave peaceful and this bugger won’t dare shoot.’
‘Tempted as I am,’ Tulkington said, ‘the amount of explanation for so many dead bodies would be tedious. You’re right, you may all leave in peace, without your weapons, of course.’
He paused before turning his gaze on Brazier.
‘I wrote to tell you to get out of Deal, but you ignored it. If a warning, followed by a narrow escape from Quebec House, does not suffice I may have to resort to other measures. My sister is not for you and never will be, so get away from this part of the world.’
There was little point in saying if he had written a warning, it had not been received, and right now, it seemed Tulkington might be speaking the truth about Betsey, however hard it was to bear.
‘But you, Spafford, if you ever smuggle so much as a bag of tea, I will crush you. We had a bargain, you broke it.’
‘What say you, boy?’
Harry walked out into the pool of light, a sneer on his face. ‘What, leave here?’
‘Come home.’
‘You call that hovel “home”? I reckon you can leave peaceful all right, but it will not be with me. Tell him, Henry. I could have walked out of here any time I wished. I ain’t here ’cause I’m being held, I’m here of my own free will and happy so.’
‘We’re blood, Harry,’ his father pleaded, the choking sounds of tears obvious. ‘You’re all I got.’
‘More’s the pity, if it be true. You don’t see hate when it’s staring you right in the face, but I hate you. It’s my fond hope I never clap eyes on
you again.’
With everyone looking at Dan Spafford, crestfallen and seeming to shrink as these words hit home, Daisy Trotter moved so quickly it took everyone by surprise. The fact that he had snatched one of Spafford’s pistols from his belt, as well as cocked it, only became obvious when it was up and aimed, the trigger pulled when he was close to Harry Spafford.
‘An end to this, you ungrateful little shit.’
The crash of the shot stunned everyone, but not as much as the hole that appeared in the centre of Harry’s forehead. His eyes opened in shock before he began to crumple, his father pulling out his second pistol, surely with the aim of killing Daisy.
It was the wrong thing to do. Hawker grabbed Tulkington to drag him away, as near two dozen weapons spoke at once, which drowned out Daisy telling Dan he loved him.
Spafford went down before he could exact revenge, but Trotter took a number of balls anyway. It hardly needed Dutchy to grab and pull at Brazier, he knew it was time to run. The blow in his shoulder as he left the clearing was like being hit by a hammer, making him stagger forward, only held up by the strength of his old coxswain.
There was no time to register he had taken a wound, they had to get mounted and away, as behind them, those who had discharged their weapons were now seeking to club each other with the stocks to the sound of screaming imprecations. But some must be reloading and, when that was complete, they would not hesitate to shoot. Even a blind discharge could kill.
They made the gate with Brazier staggering but mumbling, ‘Did any of you fire?’
A negative chorus greeted that. Brazier was glad all replied, despite knowing he was badly wounded enough to slow them down. Even fighting for breath, he gave clear orders.
‘Get mounted and get away. Leave the muskets and I’ll make sure you’re not pursued.’
‘Never, Capt’n.’
It took every ounce of effort he possessed to scream at them, ‘That’s an order, Holland. Damn you, obey it.’
‘Gotta refuse,’ Peddler shouted back.
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