The Trials of Alaric (Twist Upon a Regency Tale #8)

Chapter Nineteen

“B est get yourself and Eloise out of sight,” Alaric advised Tarquin. “Bebbington might follow us, and he is the local viscount. At best, he’ll make an embarrassing fuss. Luke and I shall see if we can find out what has happened to the yacht, and we’ll make inquiries about the ferry.”

Tarquin and Eloise walked off to a nearby inn, surrounded by footmen.

It was Luke who thought to speak to an elderly gentleman sitting on a bench, smoking a pipe, and watching the harbor. He must have been there for hours, for he remembered Luke, Alaric and Tarquin arriving on the yacht, Sea Mist . “You, sir, and the other gentleman, there,” he said, “and the gentleman who just escorted the lady into the inn.”

What luck to find such a keen observer. It made the old man’s day, too, to have Alaric and Luke hanging on his every word.

“Yes, indeed, I saw the Mist leave. Such a beautiful vessel. Fine lines. The Earl of Claddach’s, I believe. She’s been berthing here quite often recently, as the earl’s lady and her sister have friends in Birkenhead.”

“She is a lovely ship,” Alaric agreed. “We came over from Claddach on her and expected to return this afternoon. We were surprised to find her gone.” That was putting it mildly.

“That explains why the captain was arguing,” said the gentleman. “It was that young pup, Beverley. The earl’s nephew. Thinks a lot of himself, that boy. He must have demanded the captain take him somewhere. Back to the island, perhaps?”

“Beverley!” Luke’s tone made the name into a profanity. “What was he doing here?”

“Putting a spoke in our wheel, clearly,” Alaric declared. “More to the point, how did he get here? There was no ferry until three this afternoon, and it cannot be more than a quarter to three now.”

“Ah, well, it could be the young viscount came in on a fishing smack,” said the gentleman. “He came along the quay from where the fishing fleet docks, and he had a rough-looking fisherman type with him. Fellow pointed out the Mist and then went into the tavern, there. I haven’t seen him come out, so I suppose he is still there.”

“Sir,” Alaric said, “could we persuade you to come into the tavern with us and identify him?”

Alaric offered the elderly man his arm, and all three of them crossed the road to the tavern, where the observant gentleman very quickly found a man sitting in the shadows hunched over a mug. “That is him. That is the man who directed Lord Beverley to the Mist .”

Alaric recognized him immediately. “Gorry,” he said.

They saw the gentleman back to his bench. Alaric told Luke, “He will recognize me straight away as the man who called the constables on him for breaking his son’s arm.” With that, Luke took on the task of talking to Gorry. He went back to the tavern and Alaric sat with their new friend to watch the boats.

The old gentleman had some questions. “Please tell me if I intrude, sir, but I sense a story. I am burning with curiosity. Is Lord Beverley the villain of the piece? Is that unprepossessing fellow in the tavern? How did you come to be on Claddach, and why are you so anxious to return? Are any of you suitors for the hand of the earl’s daughter? His trials are the talk of the county, and we are all agog to know what is happening. And who is the lady your friend whisked away into the inn? She was not with you on the yacht, so where did she come from? Now you can tell me to mind my own business, sir.”

Alaric laughed. “I will not do that, sir. I shall start by introducing myself. I am Alaric Redhaven, and yes, I am an aspirant for the hand of Lady Beatrice Collister. So is my friend, Lord Lucas Versey. Though I daresay he is not as keen on the lady as I.”

The gentleman inclined his head. “I am Thomas Oxton. Sir Thomas, if we are being particular, but since I have passed the reins to my son, I do not bother much with such details.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Thomas,” Alaric said. “The other gentleman you saw is my brother Viscount Stavely, and we came to Birkenhead to meet his wife and to take her with us to the island. The trials are the reason we need to return quickly. Versey and I have been given leave for today but must be back tonight.

“As to Beverley, he is also a suitor in the trials. Whether he is a villain remains to be seen. I last saw Gorry, the man in the tavern, on Claddach being taken away to await the magistrate’s pleasure. I have no idea why Beverley or Gorry would be here in Birkenhead.”

Sir Thomas chuckled. “To cut you out, Redhaven. You and your friend Versey, who is, I imagine, one of the Duke of Dellborough’s whelps.”

“And here he comes,” Alaric said, not without relief. Sir Thomas might be old, but he was still sharp.

Luke crossed the road and came up to them. Alaric said, “Sir Thomas, may I present Luke Versey. Luke, this is Sir Thomas Oxton. I have just been telling him we are suitors in the trials. Apparently, everyone on this side of the water is just as interested in them as those on the island. He understands why we need to get back.”

“Beverley has done his best to make sure it doesn’t happen tonight,” Luke told them. “He paid Gorry to bring him across from the island. Gorry put a lot of words around it, but in essence, Beverley found him at the harbor about to steal his erstwhile employer’s fishing smack, and came along for the ride.”

“Stealing a boat? Gorry’s keen to tighten the noose around his own neck, isn’t he?” Alaric commented.

“Gorry reckons he was just taking back his own,” said Luke, with a grimace. “Seems the fisherman who owns the boat bought it off the gambler who won it off Gorry.”

“Then felt sorry enough for Gorry’s family to hire the disgusting excuse for a husband and father to work for him.”

Luke nodded. “Only to fire him for persistently turning up drunk or failing to turn up at all. ‘It’s not right. A man has a drink or two to keep him warm, and next thing, he’s thrown off his own boat.’ According to Gorry, everything that has happened to him is somebody else’s fault.”

“I know the sort,” said Sir Thomas. “What of the yacht, Lord Lucas?”

“Gorry recognized you on the yacht, Alaric. They were close behind us when we landed, and Gorry blames you for his arrest. He suggested to Beverley that the sea trip to Brighton would be quicker and pleasanter than the coach trip to London. Beverley was only too pleased to try to stop you from getting back to the island by Lord Claddach’s deadline.”

“Do either of you gentlemen know how to sail a fishing smack?” Sir Thomas asked.

“I’ve done a little sailing in my brother’s pleasure yacht,” Luke admitted.

“I am a complete novice,” Alaric conceded, “but I can follow instructions.”

Sir Thomas hoisted himself to his feet. “Hmm. We can’t have you drowning on the way over. We’ll have to see if we can do better than that. Come along, gentlemen. We are going to arrange your transport back to Claddach.”

*

Bea spent the day fighting off a bad mood. The men—those who were left—went off to move the bulls and returned triumphant and pleased with themselves. They did not seem to mind that Papa had given Luke and Alaric credit for already completing that particular trial when the pair retrieved the errant bulls at the fête.

Indeed, they were full of praise that the two men had managed on their own, though from what Bea had heard, a host of commoners had helped.

Bea could not bring herself to care. Or, rather, she cared too much. Alaric was gone and Bea was—she would admit it, if only to herself—Bea was out of sorts.

She was pleased Beverley was gone. She was not so delighted that Aunt Lewiston had reacted by retreating to her bedchamber with the drapes drawn and Mama in anxious attendance.

“I wish Mama would not do whatever Aunt Lewiston asks,” she said to Aunt Joan.

“Lady Lewiston is the older sister,” Aunt Joan said. “Your Mama has obeyed her all her life. You know that I love your Mama, Bea, but even her greatest devotee could not call her a strong-minded lady. Not like you, my dear. But then, my brother is strong-minded enough for two people, so I dare say she is happy doing what makes him happy. As long as her sister is not nearby. Poor, dear Mary. She must feel as if she is being pulled in all directions, between Lady Lewiston, my brother, and you, Bea.”

Which was all very well, but when Aunt Lewiston was around, Bea did not much like her mother. Nor did she much like her remaining suitors, all four of whom seemed to have taken the absence of Alaric, Beverley, and Lord Luke as their opportunity to spend the afternoon making an impression on her.

She was being unfair again. At least two of them were attempting to make an impression on other ladies in the house party—Mr. Howard on Cousin Dorrie, and Mr. Meadowsweet on Sarah Howard. Also, Papa’s secretary, Mr. Maddrell, and Reina appeared to be close to making a public declaration of the attachment everyone around them had been aware of for some time. Certainly, they made no attempt to hide their interest in one another.

Perhaps it was the budding romances around her that had her snapping at Ellie when that besotted damsel assured her, “Luke and Alaric will be back by dinner time, Bea.”

“They can come and go as they please,” she retorted. “I certainly have no control over their movements.”

Despite her denials, though, she did expect Alaric to come back. When six o’clock came and went with no sign of him, she was as disappointed as Ellie, though unlike Ellie, she did not allow herself to droop and look downcast.

“Reckon somethin’s delayed them, my lady,” said Eunys, as she helped Bea dress for dinner. “He’ll be back, though. Powerful fond of you, is Mr. Redhaven.”

Not so powerful fond, however, that he refused to run off to the mainland at one word from his brother.

“I daresay he will return in his own good time, if he wishes to do so,” she told Eunys.

She knew she was being unfair. She had no idea what their errand was, and how necessary Alaric was to its successful conclusion, and it was unreasonable to blame Alaric for not telling her where he was going when she was away from the castle when he left.

They had still not returned when night fell. She lay awake, at one moment wondering if Alaric was in trouble, even perhaps injured, and the next moment certain that he had lost interest in her and her father’s dumb trials. Had he gone, never to return?

One of Claddach’s sudden storms began to buffet the castle and Bea knew for certain. Alaric would not be returning tonight.