Plymouth, and even for the final leg of the journey as an outsider with a few other passengers, swooping along narrow roads with branches almost brushing their heads.
He saw the sea again, dark blue, and hard in the reflected glare, a few whitecaps weaving a pattern closer to the land.
Like claw marks.
There was a small white-painted cottage now, a man with a long clay pipe standing to wave as the cart clattered past.
'Coastguard. 'The carter pointed to a cluster of trees, dark green against the road and the sea beyond. Bent, but surviving the worst this storm-lashed coast could offer.
Tolan saw the house. Journey's end. He had learned the hard way: hope had to be proved. And it was dangerous.
He relaxed the hand which had been gripping his knee. Hope could be fatal…
Past some gates and turning now into another lane. People, a boy leading an unsaddled horse across cobbles. Some one polishing a smart landau, turning without curiosity at the sound of the cart.
Stables, and some kind of tower, a weathervane turning to flash in the sunlight. Doves taking flight as the wheels braked to a halt beside a water trough.
Dick the carter murmured, 'Watch this un, my son. 'But he smiled and raised his battered hat. 'Good day to 'ee, Miss Bolitho!'
Tolan caught a brief glimpse of the girl as she strode toward the house, in riding habit, a crop swinging from her hand. She ignored the greeting.
'I pity the poor devil who tries to make his way with she!'
Tolan jumped down to the cobbles and reached into his coat pocket. The carter shook his head.
'Nay, tes my pleasure, this time. 'He winked. 'We'll meet again!'
Tolan picked up his bag. One step at a time. No stupid mistakes. Like the girl who had walked past. He had not even seen her face, but he had been reminded of his sister. Where was she now; had she married? Would she think of me without shame? Something like panic gripped him for a moment. Had he expected to stay safe, living a lie forever? Some one touched his arm. 'Nobody looking after you? 'and laughed. 'Sorry to make you jump!'
Tolan faced him, calm again, on guard. 'Mr. Yovell?'
'I'll take you to him. 'Over his shoulder, 'Come a long way, have you?'
Tolan followed him; the carter was already talking to somebody else, but raised his hat casually as he passed.
He replied, 'Far enough, 'but he thought it went unheard.
His guide said, 'There 'tis. He'll be in the office. 'He smiled and went back into the yard.
Courteous. No questions. So far, just as Luke Jago had described. He swung round as he reached for the door handle and almost collided with a young, fair woman wearing an apron. She stared at him, startled.
'I'm sorryЦ I didn't knowЦ'
Upset, angry; it went deeper than that.
Tolan reached inside his coat, making no sudden movement.
'I was told to see Mr. Yovell. 'He saw her breathing slow, one hand thrust some hair from her forehead. 'I'm George Tolan. 'There had been voices beyond the door. Now there was silence. 'From London.'
Her eyes were still fixed on his face. He had learned a great deal about people and their reactions during the time he had been serving Bethune. You didn't last long if you were too slow to measure up: his own words on more than one occasion.
And this girl was…
She bent her head slightly, looking away at last.
'I b'lieve I heard about it, zur.'
He said quietly, 'George' will suit.'
She gestured to the door. 'He'm in there, 'and seemed to tense as the voices resumed. 'I have to go. My place is in the house. 'She turned, but something made her say over her shoulder, perhaps out of mere politeness, 'Jenna is my name.'
The boy who had been leading the horse was coming back, and she took the opportunity to hurry away.
Tolan rapped on the door and pushed it open.
Daniel Yovell was standing by a desk, facing him as he stepped into the office. Even this seemed familiar, because of Jago's descriptions: the shelves and ledgers, and a few framed prints and maps on the wall, one awry because the door had been slammed shut once too often. Even the stove, unlit now, where Jago had shared a wet from time to time with this neatly dressed, corpulent figure.
Yovell held out his hand.
'Take a seat. You are George Tolan, if I am not mistaken.'
He plucked a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles from his forehead and laid them on the desk. 'We had word you would be arriving. 'He permitted himself a slight smile. 'Eventually.'
Tolan touched his coat again.
'I have a letter.'
'Later. Captain Adam gave us all the details. The rest we can deal with in our own good time. 'He moved a file of papers as if to cover something, a Bible or prayer book, Tolan thought.
Strangely, that fitted, too.
Yovell was saying, 'We function here not unlike a ship of the line. Requiring loyalty, honesty, and no fear of hard work.
'How does that suit you?'
Tolan saw his irritation as another door banged, and he recognized the second voice he had heard. A tall man, built like a prizefighter, about his own age. What Jago would call full of himself.
Yovell said, without warmth, 'Leaving, are you? 'and did not wait for an answer. 'This is Mr. Tolan, who is staying with us a while. Mr., ah, Flinders is steward of the adjoining estate, Roxby's. Lady Roxby is Captain Bolitho's aunt, as you will discover.'
Tolan could feel the eyes, and the questions.
Yovell added smoothly, 'Mr. Tolan was an aide to Vice Admiral Sir Graham Bethune.'
'An' you'll know some good stories to tell, I expect?'
Flinders turned toward the door, 'I shall send…' He seemed to be listening to something, and changed it to, 'I shall bring the estimates for those repairs, and we can fix a price. 'He looked directly at Tolan this time. 'There was a deal of talk about your Sir Graham a while back. Had a real eye for the ladies, I hear.'
'An' not just an eye, neither! 'The door slammed behind him.
Daniel Yovell replaced his spectacles and studied the newcomer. What next? Nothing was ever straightforward.
But he said, 'I believe you were speaking to our Jenna just now. A local girl, very respectable. Mrs. Ferguson's right hand these days.'
Tolan said nothing, recalling the carter's amiable warning. Sharp as a tack, so watch out! He was right.
So it had been Flinders who had upset the girl. Used to getting his own way. A bully, and possibly a lecher. Nothing new, but not to be ignored.
'I shall take you over to the house and introduce you to Mrs. Ferguson. She'll be glad of some help, I daresay. 'He did not elaborate. 'Then I shall find you a corner to call your own.'
Again that calm, owlish gaze. 'While you're with us.'
Tolan picked up his bag and followed him into the yard.
He felt the sun on his face and breathed the warm air with an odd sense of relief. Captain Bolitho had kept his word.
One of the stable hands looked over and gave him a grin. He quickened his pace. Yovell was holding open a door for him.
So cool and still after the noise of the stable yard. And right or wrong, it was his decision. There was no turning back.
Lowenna looked down at the portmanteau open on the floor, and touched the gown carefully folded on the top. She had worn it on their last day together.
