'Like being cast adrift.' He might have been talking to himself. 'All the ships, thousands of faces, good will, and hatred, gone. I knew it was coming. Have done for months, maybe years. But I could not accept it.'
He looked up as the bells began to chime. 'I was here when Richard was married, you know. John Allday you'll not know him, ' he almost smiled, 'the rascal. He was there when Richard fell. Told me he was asking for me, even at the end.' He seemed to take a grip on himself. 'But then you'll know about the Bolitho legend?'
Lowenna put out her hand and said softly, 'I am going to marry Adam Bolitho. God willing, I may become part of that legend.'
Nancy paused at the foot of the steps, looking up at them.
'Ride with us, Thomas. There is plenty of room at the house.' She saw the stubbornness in the blue eyes. He, at least, would never change, and she was suddenly grateful for it.
'I can pay my way…' He turned as the coachman and a porter from the posting house, pushing a large black chest on a barrow, appeared around the corner of the church. It was probably all he possessed in the world, Nancy thought.
She said, 'And pay you will, sirl'
Francis had taken in the plain, heavy coat and unfashionable cocked hat. He was still a King's officer, no matter what. That was good enough for him.
Lowenna looked at the passing crowd, heard some one playing a violin, and another shouting his wares.
She would write of it all in her next letter to Adam.
She watched Nancy 's face, her expression, but knew she would not be able to describe either.
It was sad; it was beautiful. And it might never have happened.
Francis lowered the step and held her gown clear of the door.
For a second their eyes met, and he murmured, 'Turned out a better day than I thought, Miss Lowenna.' She was no longer a stranger.
Unis Allday walked across the inn yard and looked up at the sky. Not much cloud, but it was a hard blue, without warmth. She tugged her shawl across her shoulders and heard The Old Hyperion's sign swinging now, creaking in the breeze from Falmouth Bay. The nights were drawing in; there would not be much business tonight. But they could not complain, far from it. They would have to hire more staff if trade continued to grow. The new road, which she could see from her bedroom window stretching away across the fields, had brought more travellers than any one had expected.
Today there were still a few customers unwilling to leave, some pitching horseshoes for bets, others simply yarning; all nodded to her with a measure of respect as she passed. A few might try to take liberties with the woman of the house, but they only attempted it once with Unis.
She had heard one of the local traders who had called into The Old Hyperion for some of her apple pie reading extracts from the Gazette aloud for the benefit of some illiterate farm workers. It was the latest report from Africa, where two of the King's ships had been in action with slavers intent on running the blockade.
Unis had been married to a sailor long before she had wed John Allday, and was no stranger to such news. But it worried her, more so now that Bryan Ferguson had died not far from this yard. The best of friends, although as her brother, the other John, had often remarked, he and Allday had always been like chalk and cheese.
When her John had been forced to quit the sea, after Sir Richard Bolitho had been killed, he had depended on Ferguson to keep the old links and memories intact. A man-of-war entering Falmouth would see John and his friend there oh the jetty, taking in every detail, recalling all the names and places. Like the time when a frigate had anchored in the Roads when Allday had been watching from the jetty; the captain had seen him and sent a midshipman with a boat to collect him and take him to the ship like an honoured guest. She had never forgotten his face as he related the story, and the part when the young midshipman had called him 'sir'.
She saw Jack, the inn's latest recruit, hurrying across the yard to the cellar door.
He saw her and called, 'You said I was to put up another cask of ale if we needs one. A pin will do it! ' He was about fourteen, and pleased with his authority.
'You're a good lad, Jack.' She knew from experience that if her husband knew about it he would try and do such tasks himself. A sword thrust in the chest had almost killed him. She had sworn that no more harm would come to that big, shambling figure. Clumsy, some might think. But he could fashion beautiful ship models with every spar and block in perfect miniature with those hard, scarred hands.
She brushed some flour from her bare elbow and smiled to herself. The same man had given her their little Kate. No longer so little…
Two more traders rode noisily from the yard, each waving his hat to the slightly built woman who had made this the most popular inn between Falmouth and Helston.
She thought about the girl Lowenna who was staying with Lady Roxby. Her John had met her after Bryan 's death. Beautiful, he had called her, and she had heard him threaten to throw out two men who were the worse for drink, because they had tried to repeat some alleged scandal about her.
There was bound to be gossip; this business thrived on it. She saw the last horseshoe catch around its stake, heard laughter and the clink of money. Especially where men were concerned…
And they said Captain Adam was going to marry her. Her heart softened.
What that old house needs. She turned as she heard Allday's voice from the stable. What we all need.
Allday was standing, hands on hips, surveying the horses being led out for three of the departing visitors.
'That's all of 'em, Unis. I'll give a hand with the kitchen before the carter arrives.' He scowled. 'Not sorry to see the stern of that one! '
It was Harry Flinders, the Roxby steward, until recently a rare visitor to Fallowfield. Always polite and careful to show her every courtesy, but not popular with the local people.
He turned easily in the saddle and touched his hat.
'I've been telling my friends here that there's no finer hostelry on Falmouth Bay, no warmer welcome neither! ' He grinned, his teeth very strong. Like the man. He looked directly at Allday. 'There was a French ship in Carrick Roads yesterday. I'd have thought you would have been across to see her. There was quite a crowd of old sea dogs.'
Allday said, 'The day I shakes 'ands with a Frog will be the first time, Mister Flinders.'
Flinders shook his head. 'The war's over and done for, man.'
Allday remained very calm. 'I knows that too. 'Cause Jacks like me won it, no other poxy reason. That's it an' all about it! '
The horses clattered out on to the road, Flinders raising his hat again, this time to the dark-haired girl, Nessa, who had become so much a part of their family after being disowned by her parents. Unis had already noticed that she ignored him.
He had better watch his step with our Nessa.
Allday must have read her thoughts. He was still brooding, and annoyed at himself for showing it to the one he loved beyond measure. 'Thinks every woman wets 'er bed over his good looks! '
Two ostlers turned to watch as Unis clutched Allday's arm and fell against him, shrieking with laughter.
Something they could share. Perhaps without knowing why.
Lowenna opened her eyes wide and lay very still; for how long, or what had awakened her she did not know. For a few moments she imagined she had overslept, that it was morning, even though she knew it was impossible.
Very slowly the big, high-ceilinged room took shape above and around her; the house was completely silent. So bright that it was a wonder she had been able to fall asleep in the first place. The food and wine, and the fascination of listening to the conversation had worked well.
Something made her swing her legs over the bed and walk to the windows. The moon seemed to fill the sky, so that the stars were almost incidental.
She eased open one of the windows and felt the air around her body, not cold, as she might have expected at this time of year. She thought of Nancy 's pleasure, her unusual animation as she had spoken with, and listened to, Thomas Herrick.
It seemed strange that a man who had seen and done so much, and had indirectly been a part of the Bolitho family's life should seem so reticent, even shy, until Nancy had triggered off a name or memory which then they both shared.
Through Montagu Lowenna had met several senior officers, both naval and military, and had gained an overall
