Page 36 of The Demons of Wychwood

CHAPTER 20

PENHELLIGAN HALL

What influence Christopher Havelock had! With no bother at all, we were permitted passage on the overnight Travelling Post Office train to Exeter.

The train departed from Euston Station at eleven p.m and would arrive at Queen Street Station in Exeter by six a.m. The journey was non-stop, and I found it was quite a thrill every time we came upon a station on the route. The mail train was fitted with an ingenious cage apparatus for picking up and setting down mailbags. One of the clerks in the front train car would drag back a sliding side door and hook the full mailbag as we passed through a station. Then a clerk in the car at the rear of the train would deposit the local mailbag in the cage. It was quite a skill, and I liked the efficiency of it.

Kit was provided with a berth where one of the guards would usually sleep between shifts. Mr. Beckett, Kit’s lawyer was given another berth. Beckett was a portly elderly gentleman with white lamb chop sideburns and milky blue eyes. Both Kit and I spoke with him for a while, and he seemed a good sort. He said he would take my statement when we reached Penhelligan Hall.

Kit slept, and then we ate a little of the bread, cheese, pork pie and apples his cook had packed for the seven-hour train journey. I slept fitfully, but my noggin kept wandering to thoughts of how good it had felt to lay with Kit, and on how determined I was in getting justice for Elowen. And so, as I couldn’t sleep, I got up and I kept myself busy, helping sort and pigeonhole mail. The process was second nature to me and my colleagues were more than happy to have an extra pair of expert hands, and a nice bit of banter for the overnight journey.

A liveried coach and four awaited us at Queen Street Station at six a.m. The station porters secured Kit’s and Mr. Beckett’s trunks to the roof of the coach. I didn’t have a trunk, nor a case as I owned very little. But Elowen had packed a few clothes and food in a leather satchel for me. In the coach Mr. Beckett sat beside Kit and I sat opposite, my eyes affixed on Kit’s red leather gloves pressed anxiously to his thighs. I knew that what was to come would be a trial all of its own for him. He was an absent lord returning to his family estate to collect evidence against a man who had wronged his servants, and was his personal abuser. Elowen had told me how poorly Napier treated the maids and so I knew there were dark times ahead. I would do what I could to support Kit.

The final leg of the journey to Penhelligan Hall brought back childhood memories I’d thought long forgotten. The hall was built high up on cliffs, close to the pretty fishing village of Starcross, on the River Exe that flowed down to the sea at Exmouth. The smell of the fresh sea air, the shift in the early morning light, and the colours of the moorlands made me ache for my Ma. We’d walk these windswept roads hand-in-hand when I was a nipper and it was like they were mapped on my very soul.

“It’s a strange coincidence,” Kit began, “How our families are entwined with Penhelligan and that we two formed such a…friendly connection,” Kit’s heated gaze lingered on me. I smiled and felt lust coil in my gut. I swear, with the looks Kit and I shared throughout the journey it was a blessing that Mr. Beckett slept. The elderly lawyer had the right idea in napping, but I could not settle, not while Kit sat across from me, his eyes stormy, and his black curls windswept. I had never seen a more handsome man in all my days, and I fought the urge to reach out and take his hand. I weren’t daft though. I knew that even though we’d had a tumble we didn’t really know one another and there was no arrangement. He could never be my beau, what with us being of different classes. But the more time I spent with Kit the vision of the wounded, angry man from Wychwood faded, replaced by what I knew of the real man. He was sensitive and kind and he was courageous, finally finding the confidence to use his power to right wrongs. Christopher Havelock, Duke of Penhelligan had been used and abused just as much as anyone else who’d crossed the path of General Edward Napier, and he’d been under the constant threat of ruin for six years. Kit had to suffer alone cos he had no one in his corner that he could trust, and so the fear had twisted him, and made him complicit in his own abuse. Well, Kit had me on his side now. I would show him that he wasn’t cursed, and that his desire wasn’t demonic possession. He had me for as long as he wanted my company.

As we turned up the road to Penhelligan Hall I could see on the horizon that a storm was drawing in. The hall stood like a threatening silhouette against the colours of the bruised sky, and the wind howled something vicious, rocking the coach and spooking the horses, their anxious whinnies making me shiver. Mr. Beckett’s sudden loud snore woke him up, and he blinked like a mole in the low light trying to get his bearings.

It was just after eight o’clock in the morning when we reached the hall, and my gawd, this cliff top mansion was one of the grandest houses I ever did see. I bet that at from the windows on the upper floors you could see as far as France on a good day! It was clear to me as soon as we entered the hall that something was up. The servants all appeared pale and a little terrified as they lined up in the foyer like soldiers on parade. I was sure that the General had taken it upon himself to have more influence on them than he had any right to. He was not the bloody Duke of Penhelligan, but an interloper. Kit told me he hadn’t travelled down to the hall for more than three years and regretted that he’d reneged on his responsibilities. From the shock on Kit’s face, he had not witnessed his servants behaving in this manner before, not one of them daring to look him in the eye.

“Hello everyone, it’s so good to be home at last. Please forgive my long absence. This is my lawyer Mr. Beckett, and my dear friend Mr. Lazarus,” Kit introduced trying to sound chipper. I noted how several of the maids dared to look up on hearing the name Lazarus. “We will be at the hall for several days. I’ll want to talk to you all individually during that time. You need not be afraid. Not one of you is in trouble and you will not lose your place here. However, I must inform you that General Edward Napier is no longer welcome here. If he arrives, he should be barred from entry. This is not his home, he was permitted to stay here on my good graces, and they have been rescinded.” There were gasps at hearing this news, and then I saw how the servant’s shoulders relaxed and they looked up, facing Kit for the first time.

“We shall change our garments and then take breakfast. Afterward, I’d like to speak with you first, Mrs. Trelawney.”

“Of course, your lordship,” the cook said with a curtsey.

The trunks were carried up the stairs and Kit brought me up to the master’s suite. As soon as the servants had gone and the door clicked shut, Kit he pulled me into an embrace.

“Do you mind? I hope you don’t mind. After last night I’ve hungered for you. It was absolute torture to have you so close in the coach and not touch you.”

“Of course it’s alright,” I chuckled. “I’m glad Beckett was with us for the journey or we might have been arrested for gross indecency.” Kit’s lips crushed to mine and I near forgot where I was and why I was here.

“This suite has an adjoining bedroom for the valet,” Kit informed when we parted. I felt a cold stone weight drop into my belly. That’s how it is Felix, you idiot! Kit and I were of different classes, so of course I’d be given servants quarters.

“Yes, milord,” I said flatly as I pulled out of his arms. I turned and strode across the master’s suite. It was a lavish room dressed with silks and linens, fine wool carpet on the floor and paintings on the walls that would fetch a pretty penny in London.

“I didn’t mean it like that Felix!” Kit insisted. I opened the door to the servant’s room, and, if I’m honest, it weren’t too shabby, in fact it was bigger than my bedroom back home and the single bed had an extra fancy goose down duvet with a blue silk cover. I pulled my satchel of meager belongings from my shoulder and dumped it on the bed. Kit followed me in to the room.

“What I meant was that there’s a valid reason for you to stay in the same room as me. I don’t want you to sleep in here. My god, it doesn’t even have a fireplace. I want you in my bed; after all, it’s far sturdier than yours at home, and makes no noise at all when I…move.” I turned to see the wicked grin on his Lordships face and I couldn’t deny the fluttering feeling in my belly at his words.

“Very well, but I’ll keep my belongings in here. I’ll mess up the bed a bit so it looks like I’ve slept here.”

“Fine. Righty-oh, I’ll get changed and then we’ll go down to breakfast.”

****

We were served a much-needed hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, hogs pudding, and bread fried in the dripping. I hadn’t eaten hogs pudding since I was a lad. It was strange to be on the other side of the coin, as it were, being served as if I was one of the high-falutin’ gents, when I was still nothing more than a postal clerk with a rich friend.

“Now that was a proper job,” I said, my Devonian burr coming through thickly as I sat back and rubbed my satisfied belly. Kit grinned and his eyes sparkled. Mr. Beckett was blessedly too invested in his plate of food to notice how Kit and I gazed at one another. But soon enough we were in the duke’s study, and down to the serious, messy business.

Kit seated himself at a huge desk, and behind him there were French doors that showed a view of the stormy sea. I must say, he did look like he was born to sit behind such a grand oak desk in this posh house. I gave my statement to Mr. Beckett before Mrs. Lilly Trelawney was called in. She took the chair in front of the grand desk and fidgeted with the lace fringed handkerchief she held in her hands. Mr. Beckett was set up on a smaller desk to the master’s left to take notation, and I was seated to the right of Kit, there to bear witness to all that was said.

“Please don’t be afraid, Mrs. Trelawney; you’re not in any trouble,” the Duke of Penhelligan reassured. “I’ve received some information that I’d like to get to the bottom of, and such is the delicacy of the situation I needed to come here and speak with my servants directly,” Kit explained. The older lady nodded. “I’d firstly like to apologize for not coming here sooner. I feel terrible that I’ve neglected my responsibilities to you all, and I want you to know that from today, that changes. I will employ a new estate manager, and he will ensure that everything at the hall runs smoothly from now on.”

“Thank you, milord,” the housekeeper said meekly.

“I understand that, with a position as important as yours, Mrs. Trelawney, you ensure that the household runs like a well-oiled train track, especially when the family is in residence.