Chapter 14
Fourteen
Ten o’ clock.
Miserably, Hugh set up the schoolroom with the paper and pencils, and the large map pinned to the wall, just as he had every day for the last three years.
It wasn’t that this was nearly the end of his tenure as schoolmaster to Sir Pennyworth’s academically gifted children that his heart was so heavy, of course.
Ten days ago, that same heart would have been threatening to leave his chest with the pure joy of being on the cusp of achieving the pinnacle of his mother’s ambition.
And his, let it not be forgotten.
Hugh treasured learning and numbers. There’d been a time when he thought he wanted nothing more than a life spent in the acquisition of knowledge and imparting that to his eager, gifted pupils.
With no sweetheart in the wings, he’d embraced the extraordinary opportunities afforded by Sir Pennyworth’s patronage.
But on the night of the storm, Hugh’s priorities in life had changed.
He’d found love.
A poisoned chalice and yet still the greatest experience of his life.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor and the door opened. Hugh looked up, expecting to see one of the boys but it was Sir Pennyworth himself, as immaculate as ever in a mulberry woollen coat and blue and silver waistcoat with fawn breeches.
“An interesting evening last night. I’m surprised to see you up so early.
Or did you not sleep?” he asked Hugh, moving to the school desk and idly thumbing through the atlas that rested on the desk’s scrubbed wooden top.
He glanced up at the map on the wall and nodded.
“Young Christopher will be a navigator thanks to your tutelage.”
“Or an explorer,” replied Hugh. “He has an inquisitive mind.”
“With great thanks to you. Your love of learning has rubbed off on him, and I’m proud of it.
You’ve been a steady influence on my sons and instilled in them a sense of duty that gladdens my heart.
It’s one reason I wished to reward you with your heart’s desire when it was in my power, though I was loath to see you go, since the two younger boys would miss out on what you’ve taught Christopher. ”
Hugh nodded his gratitude, conscious of the time as he heard the clock chime the hour. The boys would soon arrive for their lesson.
Sir Pennyworth leaned back against the table, clasping his hands across his belly, smiling as he intercepted Hugh’s glance towards the door.
“I told the boys to wait, as I had something of importance to say to you.”
A weary resignation enveloped Hugh. It was about last night, of course.
Had Sir Pennyworth found his conduct wanting after everything that had happened?
Hugh had given the new exciseman a clip over the jaw.
That was hardly the conduct of a man of restraint, and yet restraint was one quality which had underpinned his recommendation for Hugh taking up his upcoming post.
The tendril of dread metamorphosed into acute anxiety. Suddenly Hugh didn’t want to leave Swain Cove and achieve what had been his life’s ambition. He didn’t want to leave the little coastal village which housed the one person who gave his life meaning.
Though leaving would be better, surely, since he could never have Charlotte for his own.
In an hour she would be saying the words to Mr Ravensby that Hugh would have traded everything he had in order to be the recipient.
If only he had been able to support a wife.
Sir Pennyworth extended a hand towards the map and as he traced the body of water that separated Cornwall from France, Hugh felt himself go hot with shame.
If Sir Pennyworth knew of his tutor’s involvement in the smuggling trade, he’d send him packing right now.
He’d certainly not be endorsing Hugh for a position in the hallowed halls of Riverdale, let alone Oxford.
“The best French brandy makes its perilous journey across the English Channel,” Sir Pennyworth said conversationally.
“It’s why Mr Barton and his vigilant cronies are now stationed in the village.
To end the illegal trade that should, by law, bolster the government’s coffers.
” He sighed. “But to pay the excise tax is to render it beyond the reach of so many connoisseurs.” Turning back to the map, he seemed lost in thought as he ran his finger across the thin blue stretch of water between France and England.
“Last week, I lost one of my most valuable new acquisitions. A barrel of the finest French brandy. I’d paid handsomely for it but my fee was for the dangers of the crossing and did not incorporate the heavy duty, and alas, the contents of the barrel suffered a grave accident upon reaching the caves.
I’m sure you understand what I’m saying, Hugh. ”
Hugh wasn’t sure if he could respond. Sir Pennyworth had just revealed that he, himself, was on the wrong side of the law. And as if that wasn’t enough to digest, was Sir Pennyworth also accusing him of being behind the loss of what—heaven forbid—was his barrel of brandy?
Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe. If Sir Pennyworth was in league with the smugglers, then that’s what they must have told him.
Unable to respond, Hugh held the back of a chair to support himself.
“Yes, I understand, sir,” he muttered, staring unseeingly at the map and wondering what was expected of him.
“It has caused me pain and suffering, not to mention put a hole in my finances. You can imagine how ill pleased I am, can’t you? And that I’d be prepared to go to great lengths to ensure it doesn’t happen again.”
Had he gasped? Hugh hoped not, but when he raised his eyes to Sir Pennyworth, it was to find that man looking at him curiously. No, more than that. Through narrowed eyes.
He felt ill and feared that the end was nigh.
Within the hour, Charlotte would be lost to him forever. The truth was, of course, that she was already lost to him.
And Sir Pennyworth did not appear the benign employer of old.
Was Hugh now about to lose his ability to keep a roof over his head? Or worse? Was he about to be tried for his actions on the night of the storm? The night Sir Pennyworth’s barrel of fine French brandy was drained?
“Sir, I’m sorry for what occurred. None of it should have happened. I had no idea what we were stumbling into—”
“You and Miss Stanbridge?”
Hugh shrugged. “She was blameless.”
“Blameless? I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying, Hugh? Blameless in what? Touching what was not hers? Smuggled goods? Succumbing to your charms—”
“Good heavens, sir!” Hugh drew himself up with a murderous look, and Sir Pennyworth chuckled.
“Or falling in love with you? Was she guilty of that, Hugh? And what about you? Were you guilty of falling in love with her, too? Don’t pull the wool over my eyes; I won’t stand for being lied to by a young man I hold in high esteem and whom I know to be a poor liar.
You could not keep from me your… admiration for Miss Stanbridge last night.
Nor did it escape me that she returned your affections.
And yet, here you are about to head off to Riverdale for what I’d believed was the greatest act I could render you while she accepts Mr Ravensby, a man she does not love. Is that not the long and short of it?”
Hugh hung his head. There was no point in saying anything. Sir Pennyworth could see that he’d read the matter precisely.
“Then what are we to do?”
Hugh frowned. Sir Pennyworth was looking at the map, his forehead creased before he turned back to Hugh. “It is not my intention to punish you for your good service over the years, yet it appears that this is exactly what I’m doing.”
Hugh must have looked as glum as he felt, but there really was nothing to be said.
Sir Pennyworth scratched his chin thoughtfully. “So, having pondered the matter at great length, let me tell you what I want.”
Hugh waited. It took effort to remain impassive, for what Sir Pennyworth wanted was not a fortifying prospect for someone on the wrong side of the law.
His employer began to pace. Hugh tried to breathe evenly. He could not show his anxiety. He’d seen Sir Pennyworth strike in the past, when least expected.
Warily, he listened as the magistrate went on, “Bringing contraband is a bad business all round. I turn a blind eye when I can, for I know how important it is to the economy of Swain Cove. But I can’t turn a blind eye when future barrels of my French brandy risk seizure by Barton and his conscientious henchmen.
” He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the desk, pursed his lips, then raised his head to look at Hugh.
“So, I’ve decided to offer you a position as my man of affairs,” he went on, putting up his hand to stay Hugh’s startled response.
“Yes, you’re good with numbers and you present a soothing, personable front.
Both are great attributes for what I need in a man of affairs and an articled clerk. What do you say to that?”
Taken by surprise, Hugh could only stare.
“You haven’t objected, so I’ll assume you’re weighing up the offer. Therefore, let me continue. You’d remain in Swain Cove and leverage your position of go-between with the smugglers amongst whom you grew up, as well as with the excisemen who would be required to defer to you.”
Hugh was having a difficult time following the trajectory of this sudden turn-about. He opened his mouth, but he really did not know what to say.
Sir Pennyworth seemed not to require an immediate answer.
“That is, if you are prepared to sacrifice your position at Riverdale and instead work for me as my articled clerk while I trained you in the law.” He put his head on one side and added, shrewdly, “I’d pay you well enough to keep a modest roof over a dwelling that would enable you to take a wife, at any rate. ”
Hugh must have gasped, for Sir Pennyworth chuckled.
“I don’t think I need to wait for an answer.
You know your own mind and it’s yes or no.
If it’s yes, there really is no time to lose,” he added as the clock chimed half past ten.
“I heard Mr Ravensby last night say he had an arrangement to meet Miss Stanbridge, who’d give him his answer at eleven this morning. ”