The landlord unbent enough to give a grunt of acknowledgment and the gamekeeper remarked, ‘He does that, does Jerry Harris.’
‘His lordship’s back then?’ The landlord went back to polishing pewter mugs.
‘Not yet.’
‘Ah.’
This was standard, Theo knew. He was a stranger, a nob and not to be trusted, but no-one was actively hostile. He observed the etiquette of such places by staying silent for five minutes before venturing another remark. ‘Just met your curate along at Hempbourne Marish.’
‘Oh aye?’
‘Good man, I thought.’
‘Means well. The women and little ’uns like him.’
‘Not the men?’
‘We don’t hold with do-gooding clergy,’ a voice behind Theo said. ‘Rector’s more our stamp.’ There was a faint ripple of amusement. ‘Don’t interfere in what don’t concern him.’
The landlord shifted slightly, looked across at the speaker and silence fell again.
Smuggling, Theo thought. Either the Rector turned a blind eye or he was a good customer, whereas Thwaite disapproved and tried and influence his parishioners against the free trade from the pulpit. He might as well stand on the beach like Canute and tell the sea to stay put.
Theo drank some more, scratched the spaniel behind its ears, complimented the keeper on the dog and enquired of the taproom at large what the weather prospects were.
‘Set fair,’ was the general agreement.
‘Interesting church along at Hempbourne Marish. That fine great chest tomb by the porch caught my eye. Local family is it? Curate didn’t seem to know, said he was going to look into it for me.’
‘Wouldn’t know, sir.’ The healthy freckled face on the other side of the bar was quite expressionless. ‘Another pint, sir?’
‘Not just now, thank you.’ Theo decided to push a little, the atmosphere was intriguing him. ‘You couldn’t put me in the way of some decent brandy, could you? Or geneva? I hear this part of the world is a good place to find both.’
‘Wouldn’t know about that either,’ the landlord said. He put down the mug he was holding with a certain emphasis and the dog looked up alertly. ‘I get ours from Lynn, all stamped and certified by the Excise down there, as is right and proper.’
This time the ripple of amusement from behind Theo was unmistakeable and the landlord’s warning glance, revealing.
‘Ah well, never mind. I’ll be on my way. Good day to you all.’
Oh yes, he thought, as he found a lane leading off inland in the direction of the Grange. Smuggling is alive and well and flourishing in this part of the world.
‘Pitkin, do you like working for Lord Northam?’
The valet stared at Laura, wide-eyed. ‘Like? Well, yes, Mrs Albright. He’s a very kind gentleman, very rewarding to dress with that fine figure, and it’s a good position.’
‘He doesn’t hit you or threaten you or make unreasonable demands?’
‘No, ma’am! No, indeed. Lord Northam is most considerate.’
‘Then why, Pitkin, are you so nervous?’
She couldn’t stand it another moment. The valet was almost in tears because of a stubborn stain on a pair of breeches and he had been fussing over Lord Northam’s breakfast eggs as though it was a hanging offence to overcook them.
‘Pitkin, sit down and do not mumble, I can’t hear you.’ Laura pressed him into a chair in the scullery and perched on the table. ‘I won’t bite you. Tell me.’
The story emerged in fits and starts. Pitkin’s father thought him a useless weakling, accused him of being effeminate because he had wanted to be a valet, not a gardener like his parent. He’d found a good place with a younger son of a family where the valet to the master had unbent enough to train him up, but he could not conquer his nerves and had been handed his notice
When Michael Flynn – Laura was obviously supposed to have heard of the great Duke of Calderbrook’s valet – had found him nursing a black eye in the gardens of a house His Grace had been visiting, Flynn had taken him under his wing and persuaded the Duke to let him accompany them back to London. Pitkin was reticent, but it seemed his second employer had been a violent drunk and had lashed out at anyone who did not stand up to him.