Page 9 of By Marsh and By Moor (Marsh and Moor #1)

“They went back to Exeter when I married.” She put out a hand to touch his arm. “I’ve been so worried— But here you are, delivered to me by the grace of God. Have you been discharged from your ship?”

“I ran.”

“Oh! Oh dear! What will Mr Penwick say?”

Solomon raised an eyebrow. Jed frowned. He opened his mouth to warn Carrie to keep that secret to herself, but before he could speak, Penwick entered the room.

Carrie froze for a moment. Then she gathered herself and turned to him, saying brightly, “My dear Mr Penwick, can you believe it? My brother, returned to us. Sit down, Jed, you must take some tea with us.”

She rang a bell, and a maid entered. Soon, they were all seated awkwardly around a tray of tea and biscuits. The tray was fine polished beech with a mother-of-pearl inlay, and the teacups were delicate little things. Those porcelain handles wouldn’t last long at sea.

Jed sat with his hands on his knees, reluctant to touch anything. His eye fell on a frayed patch on the sleeve of his coat.

It was most peculiar watching Carrie play the gracious host. The fine silk of her dress rustled when she poured the tea.

“Thank you, my dear,” Penwick said, accepting a cup from her.

Jed had never in his life expected nor desired to find himself taking tea in the Squire’s parlour.

He wished the man to the devil, so that he might speak to Carrie more comfortably.

He wanted to ask her if she had received any of his letters after the first one.

Carrie couldn’t read any more than he could—or at least, she hadn’t been able to five years ago.

But a gentlewoman in her position must keep the household accounts.

He studied her, wondering if her position had come easy to her.

“You look well, Trevithick,” Penwick said.

“Yes, sir,” Jed said awkwardly. “I mean, thank you, sir.” He hadn’t touched his cup of tea yet. Neither had Solomon.

Penwick cleared his throat. “I take it you were discharged, Trevithick? Paid off from your ship?”

There was a short, pained silence. Jed had some wild thought of lying.

The biscuit Carrie was buttering snapped in half. Its remains crumbled into her plate. With unsteady fingers, she laid down the knife. “Mr Penwick, my dear—”

Penwick studied her, taking in her flushed cheeks. He looked back at Jed.

“I hope you don’t mean to say you ran?”

Jed looked him in the eye. “That’s right, sir. I ran.”

“Surely you don’t intend…” Penwick trailed off. “Your place is on your ship. Your duty—”

Solomon shifted in his seat, but did not speak.

Carrie was very still. Jed met Penwick’s gaze.

Penwick looked away, lips pursed. He’d been a nervous little boy; Jed had a sudden memory of seeing him trailing around after his father, the old squire, looking miserable every time he was called upon to speak.

“What duty is that, sir?”

“I mean, defending England’s shores. The threat of invasion… the foreign tyrant…”

“I see. Funny how I spent the past five years convoying merchant shipping in the East Indies, then.”

Penwick winced. His gaze slid away from Jed and fell on Solomon. “And your friend…?” He addressed himself to Solomon. “What was your name again, my good man?”

“My friend is a landsman,” Jed said firmly. “And so was I, once, and wish to be again.”

Penwick frowned. “Your place is on your ship,” he repeated, seeming to take courage from the dictum.

Jed spread his hands on the table. “My place is where I decide it is. Sir. And what I want to know now is, what’s become of my horse and cart? Where’s Bess?”

When Penwick said nothing, Carrie spoke up. “I don’t know, Jed. Mr Penwick’s man of business dealt with all our furniture and so on, when I left the cottage. Mr Morgan, you know.”

“Bess en’t a piece of furniture!”

“No, of course not. Perhaps your cart is in the carriagehouse?” She looked helplessly at Penwick, who held up both hands, disclaiming all knowledge. She turned back to Jed. “I suppose Mr Morgan will have some record of the sale…”

Penwick cleared his throat again. “When your brother returns to his ship, he won’t need—”

“I’m not returning to my fucking ship.”

It came out loud and angry, but he didn’t care.

He opened his mouth to go on. Solomon touched his arm, and he subsided, swallowing.

Solomon leaned forward to speak to Penwick in a hard, level voice.

“The man’s horse and cart are missing. Seems to me you’d best instruct your man of business to look into the matter. ”

There was another pained silence.

“Yes, naturally I will do so,” Penwick said stiffly.

Carrie was studying her teacup. Penwick would not meet Jed’s gaze either. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Jed grabbed his hat and rose to his feet, unable to bear this any longer. “I’ll have a look in the stables for my cart, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, Jed,” Carrie said when Penwick did not speak.

Solomon picked up their haversacks and followed Jed from the room.

Outside the house, Jed aimed a vicious kick at a stone on the driveway, sending it skittering across the gravel. “Can’t believe my sister married that prick.”

Solomon murmured his agreement. His quiet presence was balm to Jed’s nerves.

“I’m sorry, Solomon. I promised you hospitality, not… whatever this is.”

Solomon shook his head. “Not your fault. Nevertheless, I think I’d best go. You have enough to worry about without bothering your head over me too. If I leave now I can still reach that farm you mentioned by nightfall, I think?”

Jed’s anger evaporated, with the shock of realisation that this was goodbye. The end of things between them. Everything seemed to be going wrong today.

“Yes. Yes, I—” He gathered his thoughts. “Don’t leave the village by the road we came down on. There’s a more direct route to Barnstaple.” He gave Solomon directions to set him on the right road.

They were alone on the driveway. In the distance, the cowbells of a passing herd rang out, faint and discordant. The late afternoon sun was in Jed’s eyes, and he squinted against it to see Solomon’s face.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be staying in Barnstaple,” Solomon said, “but… maybe you know a tavern there where I can leave word for you?”

“There’s the Anchor. It’s a big place on the riverfront. I hope—” He broke off. “I have to see to this business about my horse and cart first.”

“Of course.”

And then there was nothing else to keep Solomon there. With a final nod, he turned and walked away, soon disappearing from sight beyond the gateposts.

Jed swallowed. Then he cursed himself for a fool. He had business to see to.

At some point he would have to find a place to sleep, for he did not intend to stay under Penwick’s roof. He had plenty of friends in the village, who would no doubt be happy to put him up for the night. But first—

He went to the stables.

The head groom was a man called Charlie Hodges, born down in the village, and with whom Jed had often played as a boy.

“Afternoon, sir,” he said cheerily, straightening up and touching his cap.

Jed scowled. “Knock it off, Charlie.”

“Well, you are the master’s brother-in-law now, en’t you?” Charlie said with a smirk.

“Do you know what became of my horse? A bay draft. She’ll be a ten-year-old by now.”

“Sorry, Jed. Don’t ring a bell.”

“Or my cart?”

They looked around the carriagehouse and the other outbuildings together, without success.

Charlie scratched his head. “I reckon you should take a look out at Blake’s farm. I mind as how he bought some of our old ploughs and harnesses a few years back. And the Williams brothers have a bay draft, I think.”

Jed spend the next few hours traipsing around the district in a fruitless search. He returned to Penwick’s house, hot and tired, and went round the back again. Crossing the stableyard, he ran into the same maid who had fetched tea and biscuits earlier.

“Mrs Penwick has been looking for you, sir. She would like to see you.”

Carrie was waiting for him in the parlour. Something in her expression reminded Jed of all those times when they were children and she was about to say something she knew he wouldn’t like. As soon as the door had closed behind the maid, she burst out, “Jed, you must leave.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m afraid… there’s a press gang has their Rondy at Minehead, you see. They’ve been there a week already. What if they were to discover there’s a deserter here in Ledcombe?”

“And how would they discover that?”

“Anyone might tell them.”

He gave her a long, hard look. The old Carrie had never hesitated to tell the truth.

“Oh, Jed! I tried to reason with him, I did!”

Damn Penwick. He’d punch his lights out. “Where is he?”

“Gone to Minehead himself to speak to Lieutenant Vaughan.”

“On horseback? When did he leave?”

“Immediately after you left the house.”

With a good horse, it was only a few hours to Minehead along the coast road.

And even quicker, of course, to come here by sea with a tailwind.

How long had Jed been walking around the neighbourhood, looking for Bess?

He had lost track of time. One thing was certain: if this Lieutenant Vaughan put to sea instantly, as he might well do for the tempting prize of an able seaman, he and his men could round the headland at any moment.

“You could have warned me before Penwick left the house, that I might stop him.”

“Oh no, how could I? To see you two fight— No, you must leave here and not come back.”

Jed gave her a hard look. “I suppose it wouldn’t be convenient to you to have your brother around the place, reminding everyone you came from dirt, for all you’re a fine lady now.”

“No, Jed, that’s not true, and you know it.”

Jed studied her. She’d always been such a forthright person, never backing down from an argument. But they’d usually been on the same side in any serious argument.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be too convenient for Penwick neither.”

“No, that’s not— He believes this is something he is honour-bound to do. He says every man must do his duty.”

“Easy for him when his duty is so pleasant.”

“Oh, Jed, we can’t talk about that now. There isn’t time. You must hurry!”

He’d like to stay and face Penwick. Give him a good left hook to the jaw. But he couldn’t hold off the entire press gang with his fists.

Carrie stood there, red-faced but determined.

Have we become strangers to one another, Carrie? Jed wanted to ask. But there was no time.

He turned and walked from the room.