The man grunted something unintelligible, jerked his head at his sister and turned away, his sister following. As the door shut behind them again, Bennet subsided back on to his seat.
‘Strange cove,’ he commented.
‘Mute,’ Pierce said. ‘He had his tongue cut out. Don’t know what for, but it’s a horrible sight. You don’t want to annoy him.’
‘So who are these Lynchs?’ Bennet asked.
Mrs. Fletcher shrugged. ‘Cousins of the late lord. Came here as guests about a year ago and have never left.’
Bennet jerked his head at the door. ‘And did those two come with them?’
Mrs. Fletcher nodded. ‘God knows who is paying them. The Lynchs don’t have a penny between them, but the Jenkins are nothing if not loyal.’ She straightened. ‘Another cup of tea, Mr. Bennet? And can I tempt you to a slice of cake?’
Bennet settled back with a contented sigh. He’d had his fill of soldiering and the new turn of events gave him great hope for a comfortable future. No more flea-ridden billets and starvation rations. A comfy bed and three meals a day for the rest of his life.
Bennet was a truly happy man.
Chapter Ten
True to his soldier’s habit, Sebastian woke with the first light of day. He rose feeling stiff from the long coach ride, but otherwise better than he had felt in weeks. He knew Bennet would be firmly of the opinion that he should rest, but if he had to endure being cooped up in his bedchamber for any longer, he would start looking for someone to kill, beginning with Bennet.
He dressed himself, not bothering with a neckcloth, pulled on his old boots, and, feeling like a fifteen-year-old playing truant from school, tiptoed out of his room and down the back stairs.
He passed the kitchens, which were a hive of activity, unnoticed and escaped into the cool, clear air of what promised to be a beautiful summer day. Swinging the ebony cane, he took a deep, grateful breath and set out down the long, winding driveway, scattering sheep who had strayed on to the path. As he passed the gatehouse that stood to one side of the magnificent gates, surmounted with the now familiar Somerton crest, he paused to greet the gatekeeper, introduced himself to the astonished man and his wife, and asked the directions to the village.
A few hundred yards past the gate, he entered the village ofBrantstone. The residents had begun to stir and he stopped at the inn, interrupting the publican who was .rolling empty wine barrels out of the front door. The man gave his name as Wilkins.
‘My lord, ’tis early, but will you step into the parlour for some breakfast?’
Sebastian knew he probably should have refused, but the smell of frying bacon wafted out into the street.
Wilkins preceded him into the cool interior with a bellow of ‘Mrs. Wilkins! Put on some extra bacon. We’ve a guest.’
A red-faced woman poked her head out of the kitchen.
‘Good mornin’, sir,’ she said. ‘’Tis early for a traveller.’
Sebastian opened his mouth to introduce himself, but Wilkins was ahead of him.
‘This ain’t no traveller, Martha. This ’eres the new lord.’
The woman dropped into a hasty curtsey. ‘Oh sir, I should have known. One look at you and I could sees you’re a Somerton. You take a seat in the parlour and I’ll bring you a breakfast to remember.’
Sebastian ducked his head to enter the parlour, his heels ringing on the spotless flagstones. Wilkins pulled out a chair at the table and Mrs. Wilkins appeared almost immediately with a pot of small ale in one hand and a heaped plate in the other.
‘You won’t get better up at the Hall,’ she said. ‘We heard how as you was wounded at Waterloo, and may I say you still look a mite peaky. A good breakfast’ll set you straight for the day.’
Sebastian tucked in with relish. He indicated for Wilkins to sit with him while he ate and the publican complied.
‘Tell me about the village,’ Sebastian asked.
‘Depends what you want to know, sir,’ Wilkins responded.
‘Mr. Bragge has given me the formal facts and figures but I want to know about the people.’
He wanted to know about their lives, their children, their concerns, and who better to inform him than the landlord of the pub?
Wilkins seemed happy to comply and chattered on while Sebastian ate his meal. As Sebastian mopped his plate with a hunk of still-warm bread he asked about his cousin’s accident. The landlord leaned back in his chair.
