‘Don’ you be worrying yerself none, Miss Charity,’ he responded, his voice equally rough. ‘I know these lanes like the back o’ me ‘and. Grew up ‘ere. Soon as I get back ‘ome, I’ll tell Mrs Shackleford, so she knows not to worry.’ He paused, then leaned forward, adding, ‘An’ I’ll be waitin’ on their graces’ return … just in case.’ Biting her lip, Charity nodded and stepped backwards.
Without further ado, the coachman began the laborious task of turning both horses and carriage around, and five minutes later, he’d disappeared round a bend in the narrow track.
Chapter Fourteen
Without speaking, Jago led them away from the lane, down onto a narrow-rutted track. Through gaps in the hedgerows, Charity caught glimpses of the sea, almost emerald in the waning light. After about five minutes, the Cornishman touched her shoulder and pointed to her bag, offering to carry it. With one arm already feeling twice as long as the other, Charity handed it over willingly. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, picking her way through the deeper mud.
‘Deadman’s Cove,’ he answered shortly, his eyes roving the silent fields around them.
‘Now why does that not surprise me,’ she commented, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically. When he didn’t respond, she bit her lip, wondering if he thought her flippant.
‘How long will it take us to get to this house of yours?’ the Reverend puffed, balancing a bag in each hand. ‘That’s if I don’t have an apoplexy or drown trying to board a boat somewhere namedDeadman’s Cove.’
Jago turned back briefly. ‘Do you need to rest?’ he asked without answering the clergyman’s question.
‘No, we’re accustomed to traipsing the countryside carrying a week’s worth of luggage aren’t we Percy?’ Reverend Shackleford wheezed. Jago hesitated, urgency showing in every line of his body. After a few seconds, he sighed and grasped one of the Reverend’s bags. ‘We have to be at the cove before the tide turns,’ he explained through gritted teeth. If we’re not there, the boat will leave without us.’ Then hoicking the bag over his shoulder, he echoed the clergyman’s sarcasm. ‘I don’t know about you, Reverend, but I would prefer not to be stranded overnight somewhere namedDeadman’s Cove.’ And with that, he strode on.
After what seemed like hours but was likely less than one, they finally climbed over a large boulder and came out onto the coastal path. The only one not winded by this point was Freddy, who unlike the rest of them, seemed to be enjoying himself enormously. The Reverend sat down, fanning himself with the bottom of his cassock.
‘We can’t linger out here,’ Jago warned. ‘We’re too exposed, and believe me, these cliffs are watched.’ Hurrying them in front of him, he herded them down into some thick bracken on the other side of the path. The ground sloped dangerously towards the cliffs, and as soon as he was certain they were all out of sight, Jago again took the lead, working his way carefully down towards the cliff edge. Just when Charity feared they were going to have to use a rope to climb down, he turned to the left and revealed an opening.
The path down to the cove was narrow and almost impossibly steep, but somehow, they all made it to the bottom where a smallfishing vessel was at anchor, hidden from prying eyes by a large pillar of rock.
∞∞∞
‘Beggin’ yer paddon, Jack, but ‘e ain’t there. I’ve searched every bleeding alleyway in Dartmouth, but Cardell’s made a run for it. Reckon old Flynn scared the bastard off.’
‘I said to kill him if he didn’t talk.’ Jack’s response was mild, nonetheless more than one of the six men sitting with him risked losing control of their bladder. ‘I want him found,’ the gang leader continued. ‘And I want him dead.’ Then, dismissing the subject, he turned towards his right-hand man. ‘So, who was the chit with the dog?’
‘We’re still lookin’ Jack,’ Will Dolby replied, his voice more confident than the others.
‘Has she vanished into thin air too?’ Jack’s voice remained deceptively quiet, but Will found himself begin to sweat, his bravado disappearing. ‘We’ll find ‘er,’ he continued, struggling to recover his poise. ‘Only a matter o’ time, Jack.’
Jack stared at his henchman. Took in the beads of sweat now appearing on the man’s forehead. ‘You think wehavetime, Will?’
‘We’ll find ‘er tomorro’, Jack. Some cull reckoned he’d seen ‘er goin’ into the Castle. Remembered the dog. I’ll be there at first light.’
‘What about Mary?’ someone dared ask, then immediately regretted it as their leader’s eyes locked on him.
‘We haven’t actuallylostMary, have we though? We know exactly where the bitch has gone.’ He gave a slow grin which terrified his men more than anything he’d said so far.
‘As long as she thinks she’s safe in Salcombe, I can take my time gutting her.’
∞∞∞
Charity sat on the deck, her head on her knees tucked as far into the corner at the back of the boat as she could. Jago had told her the back was not the back, it wasaft. She didn’t care what thebloody hellit was called, this was the first and last time she wouldeverstep foot on a boat.
Her stomach roiled, and she wondered if she’d ever eat again. Especially fish. Jago had told her that putting something in her belly would help, just like he’d told her that standing and looking at the horizon would lessen her stomach’s relentless churning. To be fair, he hadn’t said anything at all when he’d swilled down theaftdeck and handed her the bucket.
The worst of it was, her father, Percy and Freddy all proved to be excellent sailors. She could hear all three of them snoring loudly as they snuggled up underneath a filthy old blanket that looked as though it had last been used as a makeshift net. The smell obviously wasn’t keeping them awake, but every time Charity caught a whiff, she had to stick her head in the bucket. Dear God, she hoped Jago’s home had at least a scullery where she could scrub her clothes.
‘How are you feeling?’ Jago Carlyon’s low voice came from above her, and she risked a glance upwards. ‘Death cannot come soon enough,’ she rasped.
‘You must take some water,’ he ordered sitting down and handing her a small flask.
Without looking at him, she took the flask and tipped it to her mouth. To her surprise, the cold liquid, actually eased some of the rising nausea. She took another cautious sip.
‘Are you cold?’ he asked.
