Chapter 17
SPRING WAS SERIOUSLY in doubt on the northern coast of Cornwall. As they traveled to the northwest, it became more cold and blustery. The wind blew hard, making the tree branches moan and rustle in the darkness. The air off the Irish Sea tasted of brine and the smell of seaweed was strong.
Thomas didn't call a halt until nearly eight-thirty in the evening. For the entire day he had ridden some fifty feet in front of the carriage, leaving her to stew alone. She'd been so bored, and finally so desperate to relieve herself, that she'd finally opened the carriage door, leaned out as far as she could, and shouted up to Tim McCulver, 'Stop the bloody carriage or I'll jump!'
The carriage stopped in under six seconds.
'Thank you,' Meggie said, climbed down, and walked into the stand of oak trees beside the road.
When she came out some minutes later, her new husband was sitting astride his horse, looking intently at her. 'Are you all right?'
'As in was I careful not to attach any poison ivy to myself?'
'No, but were you careful about that as well?' She nodded, paid him no more attention, and climbed back into the carriage. If he didn't want to be lover-like, perhaps beg her pardon a dozen times, then she would do her part and ignore him.
Exactly two hours later Tim McCulver pulled the carriage to a stop, opened the carriage door, and said, 'His Lordship asked me to see if you wished to stop for a moment and perhaps commune with nature.'
'Yes,' Meggie said. 'Thank you.' They didn't stop for dinner. It was nearly twilight. Meggie was so bored, she couldn't stand herself anymore. She didn't think, just climbed out of the carriage window. Tim McCulver didn't see her until she swung onto the top of the carriage, crawled over the low railing and slipped down onto the seat beside him. He was so startled, he dropped the reins and let out a yell.
'It's all right, Tim. Goodness, the reins. Here, let me get them.'
Before Meggie could reach down for the horses' reins, Tim squeaked, threw himself forward, nearly falling between the two horses, managed to snag the reins, and as Meggie nearly lifted him back into his seat, he was moaning.
'Are you all right?'
'It ain't the done thing, milady, it jest ain't the done thing. Ye're here wi' me, and his lordship will twist me ears off me head. Oh Lord, listen to me, yer favorite sinner needs yer good graces.'
'His lordship will do nothing of the kind. If there is any twisting to be done, let him just try it on my ears.' And she laughed, feeling the wind tear at her bonnet. It wasn't until they drove into St. Agnes, a very small village one mile inland from the Irish Sea, that Thomas rode back to the carriage to see his wife seated beside Tim McCulver, who'd driven his mother since Thomas was five years old.
He couldn't think of a thing to say. He saw Tim's anguish, saw the grin on his wife's face, not a sweet confiding grin, but rather a grin that dared him to make a scene. He wasn't without sense. He kept his mouth shut. Later, he thought, later, he would take her apart. He pictured her hauling herself out of the carriage window and blanched.
There was some moon, but it was hidden behind dark bloated clouds.
Tim said, 'It will rain before midnight, milord. I'm glad we didn't get caught in it.'
'I just hope it will clear by tomorrow.'
'Why?' Meggie asked as she stuffed her windblown hair back under her bonnet and retied it.
Thomas said, 'Traveling by boat is more difficult in bad weather. Women tend to moan and complain and puke their guts over the side.'
'What a perfectly happy thought,' Meggie said and climbed down without waiting for anyone to assist her. Her skirt snagged on the brake, and she very nearly went crashing to the ground. She said a small prayer of thanksgiving that she didn't fall. She could just see him standing over her, legs spread, hands on hips, sneering at her, treating her like a nincompoop. She said, 'How nice it must be for men not to get seasick. Do you think it is due to a man's natural superiority? Or to a female's frailty, her inherent weakness?'
'Dammit, some men get seasick.' She said slowly, tapping her fingers to her chin, 'Why did you admit that to me?'
'Because Tim is one of them and you would find out soon enough and point it out to me in a perfectly snide voice.'
'What a fine example of logic. You saved yourself from my ill manners. Goodness, it's very cold here,' she said as she shook out her skirts.
'Yes, a bit,' Thomas said, then gave Tim instructions while he handed Pen's reins to a stable boy who was staring at the big black horse. 'He won't hurt you. Just be firm and gentle with him. Tim, go along with the boy, see that everything is taken care of.'
'Pen is a very big horse,' she said, then sighed. 'I will miss Survivor, but Rory and Alec need her.'
For the first time since they'd arrived, Meggie turned to look at the inn that was set behind some oak trees. She didn't see much, just a flapping wooden sign that said The Hangman's Noose beneath a lantern that hung over the inn door.
Meggie looked from the inn to Thomas. 'This is very strange. We haven't seen a soul except for the stable lad. This place looks utterly deserted. There is only the lantern over the front door and look, it seems there is just a single candle shining out that one front window.'
'This isn't right at all,' Thomas said, and she heard the alarm in his voice. 'No, usually, Bernard's inn is very busy. Why didn't the stable boy say anything? Good Lord, I wonder what has happened. I want you to stay here, Meggie.' She didn't want to, but she saw him pull a pistol from inside his jacket. An eyebrow went up. There was no one else about in the inn yard.
What was going on here?
The sky was filled with rolling black clouds, obscuring any hint of light. She fastened her eyes on that single lone candle set in the window.
Then she knew something was very wrong when she saw Thomas break into a run to the inn, the pistol gripped firmly in his right hand.
She was just behind him in seconds. 'I don't like this.'
He stopped, turned. 'I don't want you here, Meggie. Go back there where it's safe.'
'Safe with the stable lad? How do you know he's safe? Where is he, by the way? You don't think he's hurt Tim, do you?'
'Don't be absurd, but you're right, surely he must know if there is something wrong. Why didn't he say anything? Stay here. I will see to this. Obey me.'
'No,' she said and fell into step beside him. 'This is a very important item on my wife's list:
A black eyebrow went up, but he didn't say anything, just tried to get in front of her when they reached the inn door. Later he'd be inordinately pleased about what she'd said, but not now. Slowly he opened the door, shoving it slowly, inexorably inward. It creaked loudly, making Meggie's hair stand up on the back of her neck, making her suck in her breath.
'I don't like this at all,' she whispered against his shoulder.
'I don't either. Dammit, stay behind me at least.'
'I'm scared.'
'I am too. Be quiet.'
Thomas walked into the small beam-ceilinged private parlor where the single candle was flickering in the window. It looked like it was a signal, but to whom?
Other than the candle, the room was empty. Thomas picked up the candle, saw that it was nearly burned all the way down. How long had it been lighted, and set in that particular spot? An hour? More?
Meggie moved to within two inches of her husband, came up onto her toes, and whispered in his ear, 'Is there smuggling on the northern coast of Cornwell? Between Cornwall and Ireland?'
He shook his head, placed his fingers over his mouth.
