Page 37 of By Marsh and By Moor (Marsh and Moor #1)

In the fireplace, the papers were reduced to ashes. Jed straightened up. “Let’s go.”

Emma Yates burst into the room, panting for breath, Solomon on her heels.

“That bastard Vaughan is downstairs!” she gasped. “I left Wallace outside.”

Jed blew out their candle, plunging them into darkness. He rushed to the door. The light of Vaughan’s candle was already visible in the stairwell.

He ran to the other end of the corridor, but it ended shortly afterwards in a locked door. He fell back into the office, where Solomon and the longshoreman were wrestling with the heavy wooden shutters on the window.

“What a catastrophe,” Vaughan’s voice came up the stairs. “They’ve all vanished into the night. Disappeared into the moors and gone to ground like so many rats. We’ll never find them, and who’s left holding the bag now? Yours fucking truly.”

Another man’s voice spoke in a murmur, and then Vaughan’s voice came again.

“Yes, I know, but—”

Vaughan appeared in the office doorway, accompanied by his chief ganger.

He looked in a bad way: he had thrown his coat on over a nightshirt and wore no stock or cravat.

His skin was grey, his expression bleak.

Even in the midst of his terror, Jed felt a flash of satisfaction.

Vaughan would be facing a court martial for tonight’s events. Jed had seen officers broken for less.

For a long moment, they all stood frozen, four facing two.

Vaughan’s gaze ran over them, resting on Emma for a puzzled second before moving on to eye the men with satisfaction. He looked suddenly more cheerful.

“Aha! So I’m not left entirely without something to show for tonight. What do I have here? The chief instigators of the mutiny that has caused me so much trouble tonight, hmm? I expect I can make that swing. Make you swing too, perhaps?”

“Go to hell,” the longshoreman said, though his voice was not as firm as his words. “You’re not pinning that on us. We escaped when everyone else did, that’s all.”

Vaughan wasn’t armed, but the ganger had drawn his cutlass.

The two of them stood in front of the doorway, blocking the way out.

Jed and the others had no weapons, not even their pocket knives.

They hadn’t wanted to run through the town with billhooks or pitchforks and risk encountering a night watchman.

But if the four of them rushed the doorway—

Vaughan snatched a length of rope from the crates by the door. “You first, Dyer. Come here and put your hands behind your back. Bothwell, if he makes any sudden moves, run him through.”

“Hugo,” a voice said from the corridor, and Vaughan spun around. It was Wallace, standing in the doorway.

Jed stared. He heard Solomon’s gasp, and the two of them exchanged alarmed glances.

“Wallace!” Vaughan’s voice held a tremor. Was it genuine joy? “I knew you’d come.”

Wallace stood there, pale but steady. He was unsmiling.

“My dear boy—” Vaughan took a step towards him, then stopped, frowning sideways at the ganger. “Wallace, come downstairs with me. Bothwell, keep these men under guard in here.”

“You’re outnumbered, Hugo,” Wallace said. “There are five of us and two of you. Let the others leave, and I’ll stay and talk.”

He and Vaughan faced each other. Some deep undercurrent was flowing between them.

The ganger eyed Wallace with suspicion, clearly wondering what effect his arrival had on the balance of power. His cutlass wavered.

They could rush him and take the cutlass.

Jed flexed the fingers of his right hand.

It had been months since he had held a weapon, and he didn’t want to.

But needs must. It would be suicidal, however, to just throw themselves on the blade.

He considered the empty hemp sack lying crumpled in one corner… But it was too far away to grab easily.

Jed glanced sideways at the three others alongside of him. The longshoreman was tense, on the balls of his feet. Emma too was looking sharply around the room. Solomon caught Jed’s eye and nodded. Emma hitched up her skirts.

“Bothwell, watch the prisoners,” Vaughan snapped, and the ganger turned to face the four of them head on, confounding them.

“Who’s this new fellow, sir?” he asked without taking his eyes off the others. “Friend or foe?”

“Never you mind.”

It was clear that Vaughan was in a quandary. Reluctant to mistreat Wallace’s friends in Wallace’s presence. Reluctant to let go of prisoners that might make all the difference for his court martial. Unable to speak freely to Wallace in the presence of so many strangers.

Vaughan said, “Bothwell, give me your cutlass and go fetch reinforcements from the harbour.”

The man looked doubtful.

“Do it!”

Bothwell obeyed, and the longshoreman took advantage of this exchange to slip out the door. Vaughan didn’t try to stop him.

“You too, woman,” he said to Emma, his gaze and cutlass trained on Jed and Solomon. He jerked his head towards the door. “Get out of here.”

Emma looked back at him coldly. She didn’t move.

“That’s the woman I love,” Wallace said. “My betrothed. Don’t talk to her like that.”

Vaughan spun around, shocked. It was perhaps the first genuine, open emotion Jed had ever seen on his face. “Wallace, what is this nonsense?”

Wallace looked squarely at him.

Vaughan collected himself. He turned to Emma, saying smoothly, “My felicitations. I’m an old friend of your betrothed’s. Lieutenant Hugo Vaughan.” He made her a bow. “And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

“I’ve already told her everything,” Wallace said. “So you needn’t bother thinking you’re going to befriend her and then poison her mind against me.”

Vaughan’s lips thinned, as Emma flashed him a grim smile.

“Won’t you excuse me, madam?” he said, turning back to Wallace. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Wallace, let me speak to you alone. Surely you owe me that much?”

“I don’t ever want to see you again. I just came to”—Wallace swallowed, his voice wavering—“to tell you that. And to fetch my friends.”

“Wallace, please. I’ve missed you dreadfully. Won’t you let me speak to you alone for a moment?”

Jed glanced nervously at the door. Bothwell was probably almost at the harbour by now.

“We’re leaving now,” Wallace said.

Vaughan had let the cutlass dip, but now he raised it, pointing it at Wallace.

Wallace looked down at the swordtip at his chest. “What’s this? If you can’t have me, no one can?”

His voice was calm, but Jed saw his hands were trembling.

“Wallace, I love you.” Vaughan’s voice was low and persuasive. “I’ve been looking for you for months. I gave up everything for you. My career, my life in London…”

“I never asked you to.” Wallace took a step away from the cutlass, but he was already backed up against the wall.

“If you walk out on me now, I’ll never forgive you. I’ll have your friends pressed. I’ll have them hanged for mutiny!”

They had all frozen when Vaughan pressed the swordtip to Wallace’s chest. Now, Emma caught Jed’s eye. She was the closest to Vaughan, and as he spoke, she began to inch her way around behind him.

Suddenly, she threw her arm around Vaughan, pinning his arms to his sides. The cutlass fell to the ground with a clatter. Jed scooped it up.

Vaughan shook her off, and she stumbled back. Vaughan rounded on them.

“You can’t imagine I’ll let you simply walk out of here. I know your names, employers, place of residence. I know you mutinied on the schooner tonight.”

“I wouldn’t advise biding in town long enough to do anything about it,” Emma said calmly.

“Oh? Why’s that, woman?”

“I’ve been speaking to Mrs Penwick of Ledcombe. Maybe you know her? Her husband is on friendly terms with the Minehead magistrate.”

“What does that signify? I have the law on my side.”

“Well, there’s a few interesting things as come up while we were talking. Most particularly, your good works on behalf of the Naval Hospital in Greenwich.”

A flicker of something—fear?—crossed Vaughan’s face.

“Mrs Penwick and I had a very pleasant chat,” Emma went on.

“I told her all about what you were used to get up to in London. You weren’t always pure as the driven snow, were you?

And that put her in mind of the donations you’ve been collecting for the Greenwich seamen.

She thought it might be interesting to make enquiries as to the monies received by the hospital.

To be sure it adds up to the same as what was collected down here in Devon, you see. ”

Vaughan made a little noise in his throat. After a moment he collected himself. “That’s nothing.” But the strained note in his voice said otherwise.

Emma put a hand on Wallace’s shoulder. “Coming?”

They walked out. Jed went last, brandishing the cutlass to keep Vaughan at bay.

Vaughan regarded him coldly. “You won’t really use that, Trevithick.”

“No, I won’t, because I’ve never done violence to any man or beast without I was forced to it by the likes of you. And you won’t come after us, because you have worries enough of your own.”

He stepped out the door and pulled it to, leaving Vaughan standing alone inside.

Downstairs, Jed tossed the cutlass aside and followed the others out into the street. Wallace was trembling. Solomon threw his arms around him, squeezed tight, then let him go. Emma put a hand on his arm, and he turned to bury his head in her shoulder.

After a long moment, he straightened up, taking a deep breath. “I suppose I could have saved us all a mint of trouble if I’d done that months ago.”

“Seems to me you’re the only person as gets to decide the time and place for that,” Solomon said.