The door opened and the miner he’d beaten at wrestling, now the worse for drink, lurched in. He made for Philip’s table but a scowl saw him off. Five minutes passed, the pipe had gone out, the tankard was empty and Philip rose to leave.
‘Can’t I get ’ee anythin’ else?’ Painted Bessie called to him.
‘I’m off,’ Philip told her.
‘How about a little entertainment then?’ and Painted Bessie thumbed at a thin girl still in childhood who smiled wantonly at him.
Philip’s answer was to spit on the floor and Painted Bessie’s reaction was to cuff the unfortunate girl around the face.
The battered door was opened again and the man Philip had been waiting to see came in. Philip had had enough of the place and muttered, ‘We’ll talk outside,’ to the newcomer.
The other man was a cool-eyed sailor of medium build in his mid-thirties. His clothes were rough but tidy and he smelled clean. He had a friendly air about him but Philip thought there was something hidden in the smile he gave.
‘I take it you’re Philip Trenchard, been asking about doing a bit of free-trading. I’m Zack Maynard.’
‘Can you help me?’ Philip said, sounding neither impressed nor particularly interested.
‘Aye, perhaps. Got a good landing spot?’
‘Aye, got more than one. I’ll be working with the sons of the Lord of the Manor hereabouts. It’ll be on their land.’
‘Glad to hear you’ve got some organisation under way already. Can’t be doing with anyone who doesn’t know what he’s about. The Lord of the Manor? That’ll be Sir Oliver Pengarron. He’s been running bootleg for years. How come you and his sons don’t want to work with him then?’
Philip looked round the sailor to see if Jessica was anywhere about.
‘You expecting someone else?’ Zack Maynard asked suspiciously.
‘No. We want to make our own money,’ Philip replied to the earlier question. ‘We’re well acquainted with how Sir Oliver’s runs are operated. We want the same terms.’
‘You’re asking too much.’
‘We’re no fools, Maynard. You don’t need to worry about the Revenue men, we’ll be bribing the same officials as Sir Oliver.’
‘Know about it, will he, Sir Oliver?’
‘No, there’s no reason for him to. Have we a deal?’
‘Mayhap – if you think you’re as good at free-trading as you are at wrestling.’
‘I was brought up on it, ’tis second nature to farming.’
Zack Maynard gave a small thoughtful nod. ‘I’ll start you off on a small run. I’ll get the details to you in a few days.’
Philip allowed Zack Maynard enough time to leave the cliffs behind before following the same path. He peered all around but there was no sign of his curious sister. What was Jessica up to now? Was she concerned for his moral welfare and had followed him to see if he was meeting another wench? Was she worried he was imbibing too much ale? Philip wished Jessica was like other young women, content to stay dutifully at home to serve her family until a suitable man asked for her in marriage. Clem had mumbled something most odd recently, about getting married again himself for Jessica’s sake. Philip had thought it ridiculous at the time but decided now that perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea.
It was mid-afternoon when he arrived home on Clem’s newly shod horse. Kerris was out in the yard drawing water from the well. She took one look at him, dropped the pail heavily on the ground and ran inside.
‘Jessica’s not home yet then,’ Philip murmured to himself, knowing that if his errant sister had come home, Kerris would not have been so afraid of him. He dismissed the women of Trecath-en Farm from his thoughts and focused his mind elsewhere. He stabled the mare then moved off to join Clem, David and Ricketty Jim in the fields.
Kerris rushed into the kitchen, stood with her back to the door and pushed her knuckles into her mouth. She was shaking all over and tears were filling her eyes. ‘Jessica, where are you?’ she moaned.
Jessica had asked Kerris the day before if she was feeling more secure. Not wanting to upset her only comforter and risk being seen as a nuisance, Kerris had said she was and agreed she wouldn’t mind being left for longer periods at a time. Jessica had taken Kerris at her word and today she was spending a much longer time selling the butter, eggs, cheese, and her Uncle Kenver’s smaller pieces of craftwork at the market.
A rumbling sound was coming towards the kitchen from the hallway and Kerris flew to the table and sat down. Kenver Trenchard was wheeling himself in the special chair he had made towards her and she didn’t want him to see her in a panic. She was fairly comfortable in Kenver’s presence. He spoke kindly to her and didn’t tower over her like the other Trenchard menfolk.
Kenver, however, could easily tell she was in distress again. ‘What’s the matter, Kerris?’ he asked softly when he was through the doorway. ‘Are you feeling tired again? Why don’t you go and lie down for a little while?’
‘I… I’m not tired,’ she said, in a voice so small that Kenver inclined his head to listen to her.
It hadn’t taken the family long to realise that Kerris had worked before as a servant. She was happier when kept busy. ‘Would you mind pouring me a dish of tea, please?’ he said kindly.
Kerris poured out black tea from the never-empty giant teapot on the brick oven, glancing over her shoulder every few moments as if she feared Kenver might get up out of his chair and creep up behind her. She put his tea on the table next to him.
Kenver picked it up. ‘Jessica not home yet?’
Kerris shook her head.
‘She’s beginning to put upon you, leaving you to do more and more of the work.’
‘I don’t mind,’ Kerris said quickly.
‘I thought I heard you cry out last night.’
‘I’m not sleeping all the time now… I’m getting nightmares.’
‘That’s a shame, but it could mean your mind is beginning to unravel itself,’ Kenver said carefully. ‘You might remember soon who you really are.’
‘No! I don’t want to!’ Kerris cried out, tears starting from her eyes. ‘Oh, God, I’m so frightened. I feel safe here but I’m afraid you might make me leave.’
‘Don’t be frightened, Kerris. No one’s ever going to make you leave. You belong here with the rest of us at Trecath-en now.’
‘But what if it’s found out I’ve done something terrible? You’ll want me to leave then,’ Kerris wailed, her voice rising.
‘You’re not capable of that, Kerris. ’Tis the other way round. Someone’s done something terrible to you. Listen to me, you’ve no need to be afraid. I think you feel you can trust me a little, so why don’t you come over here and talk to me? I promise you I won’t move, and anyway I’m more helpless than you are.’
Kerris blinked and tears spilled onto her dress. She held her arms stiffly to her sides with her fists clenched, sniffing and blinking. She felt she could trust this quiet, compassionate man. She took one hesitant step towards him.
‘That’s it,’ he encouraged her. ‘Just a little more.’
Her pale grey eyes were huge and shining in her square face when she reached him. Kenver put out a hand then pulled it back to show he was no threat to her. ‘We’ll always take care of you. I’ll always take care of you. You’ve got nothing to worry about any more.’
‘Are you sure?’ She wiped more tears away with trembling hands.
‘More than that, Kerris, I promise you.’
She knelt down beside him and let Kenver hold her hands.
* * *
Jessica waited until Zack Maynard was back in Marazion before she attempted to speak to him. She followed him nearly all the way down the one long street and hid behind Matthew King’s bulk, whom she met coming the other way, when the sailor stopped at the entrance to a gin shop.
‘I hear Philip won a good match against a tinner this forenoon,’ Matthew said, full of interest, as Jessica peered round his massive girth. He moved to give h
er the better view he thought she desired but she ducked back in front of him.
‘So I was told,’ Jessica replied, standing on tiptoe and trying to see over Matthew’s shoulder. ‘I missed it. I was busy selling Uncle Kenver’s craftwork.’ She went a soft pink at the lie. She had guessed that it was while he was in Marazion today that her brother would most likely meet his contact to arrange a smuggling run. She had covertly watched him wrestle so she could follow him afterwards undetected.
‘He’ll beat me one of these days, your brother, and I’ll be pleased ’twill be he and no other. The boy deserves it.’
‘Aye,’ Jessica said, not listening. She was more interested in the fact that she now spied Matthew’s younger brother, Paul, talking to Zack Maynard.
Matthew was puzzled by Jessica’s bobbing behaviour. When he turned round, he saw only his brother. Paul King walked quickly towards them. Jessica made a face and Matthew misconstrued her interest. ‘Want me to disappear, do ’ee, Jessie?’
‘What? Don’t be silly, it wasn’t Paul I was trying to see!’ Jessica replied impatiently, then ran off past Paul without speaking to him.
‘What’s the matter with her then?’ Paul jerked his head backwards.
Matthew rubbed his bristly beard under a giant palm. ‘Dunno, boy, but who can catch the wind in their hand?’
Jessica muttered a mild oath. Zack Maynard had disappeared and she had no idea where. She ran up and down the alleys that divided the shops and houses, screamed abuse at a group of scruffy sailors who crudely propositioned her, glanced in all the gin shops and alehouses. Finally she flopped against a water butt outside the back of a house in an alleyway and twisted her face in extreme irritation.
A prickle of fear from out of nowhere crept up her neck. She couldn’t hear anyone moving about but she knew someone was there, at the side of the water butt, just behind her. She held her breath and slowly turned her head. Icicles climbed up her spine. She knew it was Zack Maynard and she had a horrible fancy that he was holding a large, sharp knife and would not think twice about plunging it into her heart.
Zack Maynard moved silently and met her full on. There was no sign of a knife and he looked pleased to see her. ‘’Tisn’t every day I get pursued by a lovely young maid. What can I do for you then? Did your brother forget to tell me something? But somehow I don’t take you for his messenger.’
Jessica opened her mouth in shock.
‘You look so much like Philip Trenchard, who else could you be?’ he explained.
Jessica straightened her body and stared at him for a moment defiantly. ‘If you knew I was following you, why didn’t you speak to me before?’
‘If anyone wants to talk to me, I do it on my own terms. What do you want?’
‘I want to arrange a smuggling run with you.’
Jessica had expected at first to have to get past his scathing mockery, then probably to be given a blunt refusal to talk further. But Zack Maynard surveyed her calmly from an agreeable countenance.
‘What sort of deal are you offering?’
‘You don’t mind considering working with a woman then?’ Jessica asked.
‘You’re just a girl, Miss Trenchard,’ Zack Maynard said, with the first trace of condescension. ‘But I do business with anyone who can offer the right conditions to line my pockets.’
‘I can’t take in as much goods as my brother and I’m interested in smaller, lighter items. My friends aren’t up to carrying half-ankers of brandy and rum up the cliffs. But the goods, although different, could be of a higher value and I’ve got the same landing places as my brother.’
‘Own your own pieces of coastline, do you?’
‘Of course I don’t,’ Jessica answered acidly, ‘but—’
‘But the Pengarron young lady has access to her father’s,’ Zack said, raising his eyebrows and looking at Jessica with male amusement. He met her stinging glare with the remark, ‘I haven’t kept several jumps ahead of the law over the years by being stupid, Jessica Trenchard.’
‘Know all about me, do you then?’
‘When I heard your brother wanted to approach me I made it my business to find out all about him. But I already knew your name. I’ve watched your brother wrestle. I’ve seen you watching him. You stand out in the crowd with all that golden hair falling down your back.’
‘And you asked someone my name?’
‘No, I listened in on others’ talk to find out who you were.’
‘Why?’
‘I like beautiful things. I like to collect beautiful things.’
Jessica instinctively stepped back.
He regarded her with a naked eye. ‘I shan’t be mixing business with pleasure.’
‘Does that mean you will do business with me, Zack Maynard?’
‘So you know my name too. I see I’m not the only one who listens in on others. Do you think you and Miss Pengarron will be able to manage all the intrigue of a smuggling run on your own, Jessica?’
Jessica was more than uncomfortable about his familiarity and her fear of him had not left her but she answered bluntly, ‘We won’t be the only ones. Her cousin will be in on it and we will have a man with us.’
‘And who will that be?’
‘The head groom at the Manor.’
‘And what will be his reward?’
‘The same as yours!’
Zack Maynard ran his cool eyes lingeringly down the length of her curls and Jessica felt as if he was actually touching her. She wanted to shout at him to stop but knew she had to allow this blatant intimate scrutiny or he would refuse to do a deal with her. She had spoken out in anger and bravado on the night of the party but now the power of adventure and excitement had taken over and she was eager to take part in a smuggling run.
‘Do we have a deal?’ she asked urgently, knowing she ought to have been home ages ago for Kerris’s sake.
He said a quiet ‘Yes.’
Jessica clenched her fists and hoped he didn’t want to shake hands on it.
He put his palms loosely together and seemed to look straight into her. ‘I’ll get in touch with you,’ he said.
Jessica felt his eyes still on her as she forced herself to walk out of the alleyway without breaking into a run. She argued with herself all the way home that a smuggling operator could hardly be expected not to be a little frightening.
Zack Maynard made his way back to the gin shop. Inside, he went to a table circled by four men, not as tidily dressed or as clean in the body as himself.
‘Where did thee get to?’ bawled one of the men. ‘Yer were just about to come in when thee went off again.’
‘I had someone else to see,’ Zack said, sitting in the chair another of the men had vacated for him. Zack Maynard was clearly the leader of the group.
‘How did it go with Trenchard?’ asked a third man.
‘I’ve got business with not one but two Trenchards.’
‘Two? Are they twins putting up separately or somethin’?’
‘Not the other twin, the younger sister.’
‘What? That pretty little wild thing with the yellow curls?’ And a roar of laughter went up.
‘That’s right. Jessica Trenchard. Spirited and lovely and ripe for plucking in the best way known to man. She believes she can get something going with some friends of hers, two young ladies and a stable groom. Ridiculous, of course, and I’ve no intention of organising a landing for them. But these two young ladies just happen to be very wealthy, so there’s a much better way to make money out of them, and lots of it. Kidnap and ransom.’
‘And just who would we be kidnapping?’
‘Sir Oliver Pengarron’s daughter and niece. They’ll make a pretty bundle in the company of the sweet Miss Jessica Trenchard.’
‘You’m bloody mazed, clean off yer head! Pengarron will kill us! I wouldn’t touch a bloody hen that belonged to him.’
‘But this is the clever thing – he’d never suspect us, not with his own sons doing business with u
s, acting as a perfect cover.’
Zack’s henchmen weren’t convinced and grumbled among themselves but Zack knew they would come round to his way of thinking. He sat quietly and planned the kidnapping – and the consequences.
‘Planning on ransoming the Trenchard girl too, are ’ee?’ asked one of his men eventually. ‘Don’t expect ’er family got no money.’
Zack Maynard smiled. ‘I’ve got other plans for her,’ he replied calmly.
* * *
Four weary men made their way back from the fields of Trecath-en Farm to the farmhouse after dusk. Philip was delighted to see Cordelia was there and would join them for supper. He washed and changed his clothes carefully and managed to seat himself next to her at the table.
‘I take it Jack brought you over, Cordelia,’ he said. ‘How are you getting home?’
‘Kane is riding over with the trap for me,’ she replied, keeping her head down over her food. ‘This is very tasty.’ She turned to Jessica. ‘Did you make it?’
‘No, Kerris did. I was held up in Marazion and she’d already prepared the supper when I got back.’ This told Cordelia that Jessica had made the same contact as Philip had; she was dying to find out what had happened so she could relate it to Olivia when she got home, but Kerris had clung close to Jessica from the moment she’d walked into the house and so far Cordelia hadn’t been able to speak to Jessica alone.
‘I must congratulate Kerris on a lovely meal,’ Cordelia said. Kerris didn’t eat with the family and quietly withdrew until the meal was over. She would come back later to attend to the dishes.
‘She’s a good cook,’ Philip put in and Cordelia wished he would join in the talk Clem, David, Kenver and Ricketty Jim were holding about the coming harvest.
As soon as the meal was over and the menfolk seemed settled round the hearth with their pipes, Cordelia suggested to Jessica that they take a stroll outside in the cool evening air. They stopped to talk close beside the stall in the barn where Clem kept his horse.
‘Well?’ Cordelia said at once, grabbing Jessica’s hands excitedly. Cordelia was hoping that Luke would be impressed at her taking part in a hazardous smuggling run, that he would see her as something more than his ‘dreamy little cousin’. ‘Did Philip meet the man you told me and Livvy about? Did you get the chance to speak to him?’
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