Page 21 of By Marsh and By Moor (Marsh and Moor #1)

“Here’s your sixpence back,” the lodging-house landlady said, handing Jed the coin that he’d paid in advance for the rest of the week.

Jed accepted it silently and put it in his pocket. Over his shoulder, he carried his haversack with his spare shirt and stockings done up in a bundle.

The landlady had taken him aside as soon as he came downstairs that morning. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave,” she’d said. “The other lodgers have been complaining about you talking in your sleep. Shouting and sobbing and suchlike.”

It was the truth, and there was no use denying it. Jed left the house with his head held high, ignoring the gazes of the other men, variously curious, sympathetic and judgemental. They didn’t matter. Indeed, they seemed very far away. A sort of exhausted numbness had settled over him.

At Drake’s yard, Solomon was loading crates onto a cart. He saw Jed and came to join him, eying the haversack slung over Jed’s shoulder. “What happened?”

“I’ve been thrown out of my lodgings.”

“Ah.” Solomon’s lip twisted in sympathy.

“Well, you should come to the Boar. There’s a bed or two free.

I’ll speak to Mrs Steele about it, if you like.

” There was something warm like hope in his eyes, and it was the first thing that had made Jed feel alive all morning.

It was tempting to agree immediately, but he forced himself to be honest.

“I should tell you that the landlady threw me out acause I…” He didn’t want to say he was still having the same nightmares that had plagued him when they were first travelling together. “…talk in my sleep.”

Solomon’s expression softened. No doubt he had guessed the truth. But he only said, “I wouldn’t worry about that. If you turn out to be a bother, there’s even a little room up in the attic that Mrs Steele might give you to yourself.”

Jed hesitated. He didn’t want to reflect badly on Solomon by being a troublesome lodger. But he was so tired, and the thought of being closer to Solomon was so tempting. “All right,” he said. “Thank ‘ee.”

That evening, Solomon led him through the alley behind the Boar and up the back stairs. The inn’s upper floors were a maze of narrow, low-ceilinged corridors and odd corners.

“Mrs Steele has put you in here,” Solomon said, showing him to a room with two beds up under the eaves. “There are two wainwrights in the other bed. They’re only in town for a few days, I think.”

One of the beds had a shirt draped over the cast iron frame. Jed put his haversack down on the other.

“Me and Wallace are directly below you,” Solomon added. “We, ah, thought it better not to draw attention to ourselves by having you take Wallace’s place, and him to go elsewhere.”

Indeed, that was probably wisest. Jed couldn’t complain.

Even just to be here was already wonderful: this small, quiet room, a world away from the crowded lodging house with its long line of beds.

And Solomon close by, day and night—Solomon, who had done this thing for him, and was now looking at Jed with hope in his eyes that it would be of help to him.

Something warm uncurled inside Jed’s chest.

He couldn’t kiss Solomon, not here with the door to the corridor open, but he laid a hand on his arm and leaned closer to murmur in his ear. “Wallace en’t in your room all the time, I take it?”

Their eyes met, and Solomon’s lip curved in a slow smile. “He en’t there just now, as it happens.”

There were decided advantages to being at the Boar, Jed decided some time later, with warm skin under his fingers, and Solomon’s prick heavy in his mouth.

He loved this. Loved knowing what Solomon liked, what made him gasp and moan, pliant and eager under Jed’s hands. Before this, he’d not often bedded the same man more than once, and this growing familiarity with Solomon’s body was a heady pleasure.

Afterwards, they lay curled together in the sheets. Jed basked in a feeling of loose-limbed, comfortable satisfaction. They’d put a chair under the door handle, and the only person who might come knocking was Wallace, who, it seemed, knew everything already.

He didn’t want to spoil the mood by thinking about why he left his lodgings, or Carrie, or the letter he planned to send her. Instead, he said, “Your friend Wallace seems to have settled into town all right.”

“Yes, and glad I am to see it. He had a miserable time of it in London, these last few months.”

Jed turned over to face Solomon. “You’re a good friend to him. Always thinking of him.”

Something tightened in Solomon’s face. “I en’t always been a good friend to him in the past, but I mean to do right by him now.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, I’m sure. If he were here to be asked, I’ve no doubt he’d tell me a different story.”

“Maybe.”

Jed lifted a hand to tangle it in Solomon’s hair. He tugged gently. “Come here, you,” he said, and the kiss they came together for was long and achingly fond.

The following morning, Mrs Drake’s clerk, Toby, intercepted Jed as soon as he and Solomon entered the yard.

“Trevithick!” He was waving a folded sheet of paper.

“Someone brought you a letter.” He handed it to Jed, who was too surprised to do anything but take it.

“Also, you’ve to pick up a load from Hensworth’s brewery today.

You too, Dyer. You can leave as soon as Johns and Norris get back here with the spring waggon. ”

Jed nodded absently, barely noticing as Toby hurried away to talk to another waggoner who had just arrived.

He broke the seal and unfolded the letter.

Black ink covered the sheet of paper, all lines and loops.

With his finger, Jed traced the letters of the signature at the bottom of the page.

The first letter was a ‘C’. For Caroline, surely?

This had to be a letter from Carrie. It was the first time he had ever seen writing from her pen, and it gave him a strange feeling to hold it in his hands.

He ran his eye over the rest of the message, but could do no more than make out a letter here and there.

“Have you any schooling, at all?” he asked Solomon.

“I have the Gospels off by heart. But I don’t think that’s what you had in mind.”

Jed showed him the letter. “It’s from my sister.”

It must have arrived by way of the Royal Oak on the Taunton road. Jed had spoken to the landlord there, a friend of long standing, asking him to pass along any letter that might come for him and stressing that his direction in Barnstaple must not be revealed to Mr Morgan or anyone else.

“I expect Emma Yates would read it for you, if you ask her,” Solomon said. At Jed’s doubtful look, he added, “You can trust her. We’ve come to know her quite well, Wallace and me.” His gaze flickered to the letter. “Ah… do you think it mentions Lieutenant Vaughan?”

Helplessly, Jed ran his eye over the page again. He was familiar with the shape of the letter ‘V’, but it wasn’t easy to pick it out.

“You can come listen to it, if you want.” Jed glanced around. Johns and Norris were not here yet. “Now?”

Emma was beating a rug in the alley behind the Boar.

“Of course,” she said when Jed made his request.

She sat down on a barrel, letter in hand.

“ Dear brother,

“ I am entrusting this letter to Mr Morgan, who tells me he will see to it that it reaches you.

“ I expect you do not think of me fondly since our last meeting, but I could not let another day go by without attempting my Christian duty to bring about a reconciliation between us.

“ You put Mr Penwick in a very difficult position when you came to see us. How could he, a respectable gentleman who dines with magistrates, ignore the presence of a deserter in the village, at a time when our country has need of every man to defend our shores? ”

Solomon gave a little snort, but said nothing.

Jed’s mouth was dry. The hope he’d felt at the words dear brother was rapidly fading, and foreboding was settling cold and unpleasant in the pit of his stomach.

Emma went on reading.

“ Aiding and abetting a deserting seaman is a serious offence, and Mr Penwick has a duty as a gentleman to set a good example to the people of our district.

“ I pray that you will follow his advice and return to the Service. In any case, you must never come to Ledcombe. You will know, I am sure, that the Impressment Service has been established at Minehead this past month, and Lieutenant Vaughan, the officer in charge, often rides up the coast to dine with us. He is a charming gentleman, and Mr Penwick has taken an interest in his charitable works on behalf of retired seamen. Indeed, we had the pleasure of his company only last night. ”

At the mention of Lieutenant Vaughan, Emma glanced up at Solomon, whose lips were pressed tightly together.

“ I hope that you will find it in you to follow your duty and the law. I pray that you remain in good health, and await with impatience our reunion when the tyrant Napoleon has been defeated and the war is over. ”

Emma looked up. Her expression was apologetic. “That’s all. It’s signed, your affectionate sister, Caroline Penwick. ”

There was a short, pained silence.

Emma held out the letter, and Jed took it. Vaguely, he was aware of Solomon’s hand on his shoulder.

If Carrie had slammed a door in his face, she couldn’t have hurt him more.

He could hardly believe she’d written those words. Carrie, who had always been his friend and ally, as he had been hers—to send him a letter that could have been written by a stranger! It was as though she’d been bewitched.

“Maybe she didn’t write it,” he said aloud. “Maybe Penwick wrote it.”

“It’s not a gentleman’s hand,” Emma said, sounding apologetic. “Not that I’m any great expert myself, but it looks like an unschooled hand to me.”

“Maybe—at his dictation?” Solomon said.

Jed took a deep breath. He didn’t know what to do now nor which way to turn. His old life seemed even further away than ever.