Chapter 4
Somerville, as good as his word, led Titus through river valleys, along wetlands, and across green fields.
The South Downs was a glorious mix of all that and more.
Weatherall had just appeared as they left the Somerville stables, and the two friends took turns regaling him with information about the Downs, its natural beauty, and its history.
They rode in a wide arc around Normanton up and down hills. Houses, farms, and even whole villages appeared and disappeared around curves. Twice he glimpsed the sea from a high ridge. Once Brighton in the distance.
They galloped at a racing pace across an emerald field and up into a deep stand of wood, dismounting in the shade of ancient trees. Somerville uncorked a flagon of rum and passed it around.
“Incredible. Beauty—mystery—it’s all here. No wonder your Captain Moonlight finds it a fruitful arena.” Titus stared around himself.
“Why do you say that?” Weatherall asked, peering over the flagon.
“A spiderweb of roads, winding curves, and hills to hide behind. He can strike one moment and be out of sight the next.” Titus waved his arms at the tree cover. “And places like this into which he can disappear.”
“So, you believe in our phantom?” Somerville asked glancing at Weatherall.
“I don’t believe all the fantastical stories, but he’s real alright.” Titus took a turn with the flagon and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before asking the question that had bothered him all afternoon. “Have you ever heard of Moonlight leaving coins to someone needy?”
The other two men eyed each other, but Somerville spoke. “Why do you ask?”
Titus cleared his throat. “I heard Robin Hood stories at the pub.” He wasn’t about to reveal what he saw at Tessa Fleming’s cottage.
Weatherall spun a story about the family of one of his students whose father was injured finding mysterious coins the morning after a reported Moonlight raid.
“Then there was the vicar’s claim about the charity box filling up after the church roof sprung a leak,” Somerville said with a mischievous glance at Weatherall.
“Not to mention the Sailors’ Rest in Brighton has been flush with cash since Moonlight began his rides. Not that anyone there will explain where the sudden money came from,” Weatherall added, clearly amused.
“How is the Widow Fleming, Brannock? Have you seen her again?” Somerville asked with a knowing smirk for Weatherall.
“Well.” Titus regretted answering so quickly. “That is, I saw her once in town as you know.”
A raised eyebrow greeted that.
Titus went on as smoothly as he could. “I stopped in this morning on my way to your place. Since Moonlight had been on the road out that way last night. She appeared perfectly fine.” He shrugged casually.
They walked their horses to the edge of the wood. “Looks like the weather may take a turn,” Somerville said peering up at the western sky. “Head for home?”
They cantered along companionably until they came to the Normanton Road and Titus waved good-bye. Somerville pulled up and put out a staying hand. “I almost forgot. If you’re staying on, my brother plans a ball a week from Monday. I was assigned to extend an invitation.”
“Kind, but I fear I have no evening clothes with me,” Titus replied.
“You could wear my navy dress uniform,” Weatherall teased with a grin.
Titus shuddered dramatically. “Spare me. The army would disown me.”
“Most of the shire is invited. We’ll find you something,” Somerville said. “Come. I insist.”
With that they departed, leaving Titus to wonder if Tessa Fleming would attend that ball.
* * *
The next morning, at loose ends, he left the Duck and Spoon to stretch his legs. Something in the air felt different. He hadn’t walked far before he saw what it was. A raucous crowd had gathered in the market square.
Shock struck him when he walked closer. A man was fastened head and arms in the ancient pillory that had been sitting unused since Titus arrived in Normanton.
The miserable individual was the object of taunting and laughter.
While Titus watched, Samuels the grocer trotted to the square with a large basket over his arm.
It didn’t take long to realize the basket was full of rotten vegetables and fruit.
“Thank ’e Samuels,” a man said grabbing a rotten onion and throwing it at the man in the pillory. It was a dead hit and a cheer went up. More hands reached for ammunition, and the folks in the crowd began amusing themselves lobbing disgusting vegetable matter at the helpless victim.
Titus wondered if he should intervene, uncertain what to do. It seemed unlikely that legal authorities had ordered such a barbaric punishment. He glanced around the square and found Robin Somerville leaning against a building watching the proceedings. He clearly felt no need to intervene.
Somerville struck Titus as upright and likeable but something about him puzzled Titus as well. He sauntered over.
“What on earth is going on here?” Titus asked.
Somerville didn’t take his eyes off the man in the pillory.
“A little rough justice,” he replied. He glanced at Titus briefly and returned to his study of the action.
“If you pity him, don’t. He’s a lying cheat who has caused much misery.
Besides, my brother will be here soon enough to rescue him. If he can find the key.”
“Key?”
“To the pillory. Hasn’t been used in decades. He may need a hacksaw.” Somerville still kept his eyes on the victim.
“Is this another of Captain Moonlight’s escapades, like the drawers hanging from the church tower?” Titus asked.
“Likely,” Somerville drawled.
“You approve of this?” Titus asked.
“Don’t you? Sometimes it is the only way,” Somerville responded. “Do you see the paper pinned to him? It is proof of his crime. When Peter gets him, he’ll be locked up.”
The crowd ran out of vegetable waste and began to disperse, only a few lagged behind to shout insults. Somerville pushed himself upright. “Join me for a drink?”
It was early for that, and Somerville looked a little the worse for wear. As if he has been up all night.
“Coffee maybe,” Titus said. He had more questions.
Moments later, seated at the Duck and Spoon with a mug of blistering hot coffee, strong enough, he thought, to wake the dead, Titus asked the first question nagging him.
“This Moonlight. He takes it on himself to dispense justice?” Titus asked.
“In this case, to make sure the authorities do. Sometimes he needs to bring something to their attention. You said you’ve been doing what you can up in Norfolk—for the way our returning soldiers are treated at least. What would you do if nothing else worked?” Somerville’s eyes bore into Titus.
“Nothing so drastic. But I can understand it.”
“With the coast nearby and the ports, we have more than our share.” Somerville peered down at his coffee.
“So, Moonlight targets criminals?”
“Criminals, cheats—anyone taking advantage of others. Burgess of course would disagree. Our miserly local merchant thinks of himself as practical, not greedy.” Somerville’s bitterness was palpable.
A conclusion that had been lurking in Titus’s consciousness off and on resurfaced. Could Somerville… He didn’t voice it. Instead, he revealed something he’d promised Tessa he would not.
“Mrs. Fleming was a beneficiary of Moonlight’s bounty,” Titus said eyeing his friend.
“Oh?” Somerville cocked one eyebrow, amused at Titus’s prodding.
“She said it was a half crown plus coins that totaled exactly how much Burgess had shorted her. Something she’d told only to Rachel Pendleton.”
“Miss Pendleton is a compassionate person,” Somerville said. Something about his expression made Titus wonder if she wasn’t much more than that to this newfound friend of his.
Curious. All of it. One more reason to stay around. Titus wanted to see how the Moonlight mystery played out, and what the consequences might be. It couldn’t go on forever.