Cherrybrook Rose (33 page)

‘What about your family? Couldn't they have helped?'

‘Oh, yes, my father would have loved that!' Seth snorted with a hatred that shook Rose. ‘He's a wealthy man, doing his level best to rub shoulders with the aristocracy. Our family home is a country house in Surrey with servants, land, two dogs and, of course, horses. But I was always the black sheep. Didn't fit into my parents' high-society aspirations. Among other things, I was in love with a girl beneath my station, as they put it. I wanted to marry her, so my father hurriedly bought me a commission in the army. Often you can be on a waiting list for years, but he had a business associate who had a cousin who was a colonel – you can imagine the sort of thing. I was only eighteen years old, so I suppose I felt I had to obey him, but when I eventually came home on leave, the girl had disappeared and I never saw her again. I found out later that her parents had been handsomely paid to move away, taking her with them. Anyway, after a couple of years, I managed to transfer into the cavalry so that at least I was working with horses. My father had to pay extra for that, and he'd already had to purchase my promotion to lieutenant as well, although of course my first commission had been sold on. But it was worth it to him to keep me out of the way, especially as my regiment was posted to India soon afterwards, leaving him and my elder brother to climb the social ladder without me being there to spoil things for them. My father wasn't too happy, mind, when the purchase system was abolished and he hardly got any compensation. But at least when I got my captaincy, there was nothing to pay and it was keeping me thousands of miles away.' He paused for breath, sighing heavily. ‘But I'd never been happy in the army. Not being aristocracy, I was an outsider in the officers' mess. I didn't hold with the ridiculous shenanigans they got up to, and I never had the money to live up to all their extravagances, even if I'd wanted to. I can't blame them. I know it was boredom, really. We'd been out there four years, just on patrols, so I can honestly say I've never had to kill anyone, thank heavens. The nearest we got to action was a couple of months on exercise. It was soon after that I resigned my commission, made my way back to Bombay and found a ship I could work my passage home on. I never told my parents, although I expect it got back to them eventually. As far as they're concerned, I've disappeared off the face of the earth. And that was another reason why I couldn't tell the police about the army.' He bowed his head, lowering his eyes before looking up at her again darkly. ‘I'd been travelling under a false name to make sure my family could never trace me. My real name's Warrington. Captain Seth Warrington of the 15th The King's Hussars.'

‘Good Lord.' Rose blinked her astonished eyes at him. ‘'Tis a lot to take in.'

‘Yes, I know. But for God's sake, please don't tell a soul. I can assure you, though, if you were to look up my army record, you'd find in it nothing but an exemplary career. My only fault,' and here he smiled wryly, ‘was that I was known not to be as ruthless with my men as perhaps I should have been.'

Rose chewed on her fingernail, and then stroked Amber's head again as she considered the thoughts that swirled in her mind. ‘So the victim, the drunkard, I assume he survived?'

‘Oh, yes. Mainly due to my own actions, the physician in question testified at my trial. If he'd died, I'd probably have found myself swinging at the end of a rope. Mind you, sometimes I wonder if that wouldn't have been the best thing,' he added, muttering under his breath.

Rose was appalled. ‘No. Don't you dare say that. We should never give up hope.'

‘And what hope should I have?' He exhaled heavily, and dropped his head back, his eyes closed. ‘I was an idiot to run off like that. I'd worked all through the winter in the quarry, and then nine months clearing prison farmland, soaking wet as we dug drainage ditches, and then harnessed to chains dragging out boulders. I'm sure you've seen it often enough. You'd treat animals better. So I'd done the worst part. If you work hard, you can earn marks towards your ticket of leave. Reduce your sentence by up to quarter, so my twelve years could have been cut down to a mere nine. The warder by the tunnel, he's in charge of me. I'm lucky in that, at least. He's a good sort. One of the few. Not that they're allowed room for much compassion. The authorities are pretty hard on them, too, or so I gather. Anyway, I worked hard, and he awarded me maximum good marks. And because I'd behaved myself, I was considered trustworthy enough to be transferred to working with the animals. With the mist coming down, the land parties weren't allowed out. But the animals still have to be fed, and when the mist became so thick and the warder nearest me was busy taking a swig from his hip flask, well, I suddenly thought I might never have such a good chance again. It was a split-second decision. If I'd stopped to think, I wouldn't have been such a fool. So now, if I'm caught, I'll be flogged for my troubles and lose all my good marks. I could even have another five years added to my sentence.'

Rose had listened pensively, her lips puckered. ‘But surely, if you can prove you're innocent—'

‘If you can't prove it when you're on trial, you don't get another chance. I couldn't have a lawyer to gather any other evidence on my behalf, but I was allowed to cross-examine the witnesses. But the victim, Jonas Chant his name was, he stuck to his story. Well, he would, wouldn't he? If I were convicted, he'd get his money back. Except that it was
my
money. The real culprit still had
his
. I pointed out that he couldn't possibly have known what his assailant looked like. It was dark, and he was four sheets to the wind. Christ,
I
didn't recognize
him
in the dark! But he swore blind it was me. And the chap who'd fetched the policeman, I asked him if he actually saw me attack him, and he admitted he hadn't. He just saw me going through the devil's clothes. I was only trying to get to his wounds. But none of my arguments did any good. The jury was convinced, and that was it.'

Rose had pressed her hands together as if in prayer and rested her compressed lips against her joined forefingers as she mulled over what he had told her. ‘What if you could find the elderly couple? If they testify they saw the real attacker run off, and you coming to the rescue, surely that would prove your innocence? And maybe someone else at the inn saw something. Someone behaving suspiciously. As if they were intent on following that devil out into the street. And what if you could retrace your steps, find some of the other places you worked and prove you'd earned that money?'

‘No.' Seth turned his head towards her and gave an indulgent smile, though a deep sadness glimmered in his eyes. ‘It's too late. Much as it would be my dearest wish to clear my name. I'm afraid that once you're convicted, that's it. There's no way you can appeal against your sentence, even if you come up with indisputable new evidence.'

Rose flicked up her head, her chin set stubbornly. ‘That's insane.'

‘It's the law,' Seth murmured as he snapped a blade of straw and twined it tightly about his fingers.

‘Then the law's an ass.' To her amazement, she heard Seth chuckle, but then they both fell into a ponderous, contemplative silence. Rose really could not believe – could not accept – the injustice of it. But the fact that Seth was being so open about everything that had happened only served to increase her trust in him. ‘Are you absolutely certain there's no other way?' she asked as her angry frustration broke the surface again.

Seth cocked one ironic eyebrow. ‘Well, I believe there's something called a royal pardon. Still makes it sound as if you're guilty, though, doesn't it, even though you have to prove yourself beyond a shadow of a doubt? But it's so rare as to be virtually impossible, and it takes a massive amount of power and influence, not to say money to pay High Court lawyers and everything else that's involved. You're trying to overturn a jury's verdict and a circuit judge's sentence, after all. So I haven't a cat in hell's chance of that, have I?'

Rose sucked in her lips. Charles had money, and he knew people in high places. But she might as well try to jump the moon as ask for his help. He had always made his opinion of Dartmoor's convicts abundantly clear.

‘The best I can hope for,' Seth went on, ‘is that I'm not discovered here until I'm able to leave. And I can't thank you enough for all you've done for me.'

‘And . . . what will you do then?' Rose questioned him, shying away from the sadness that gripped her heart at the thought of his leaving.

‘I met someone while I was being held in the police cells in Tavistock. There was a street brawl the night after I was arrested, and I ended up sharing a cell for a couple of days with a fellow who was waiting for a coroner's court hearing. The case against him was thrown out, but when I was brought before the magistrate, I was spirited away to Exeter to await the next assizes. The prison there was rife with illness. I never had a day's sickness in the army, but in there, conditions were so bad, I ended up with what they said was pneumonia, not that they cared too much. My chest has been a bit weak ever since. Anyway, I'd struck up quite a friendship with this chap, and I think he'd probably help me to get away. Maybe get on that ship to America. Ironic, really, that I ended up serving my sentence back here on Dartmoor. I served my initial period in Millwall, you see. They send you somewhere else for nine months' solitary to break you down first. It doesn't even count towards your sentence. Anyway, after Millwall, I could have been sent almost anywhere for my sentence proper, but I suppose robbery with violence made me one of the worst felons in the land, which is why they sent me here. But this other man, he was a local farmer. From a place called Peter Tavy. On the moor somewhere, he said. Do you know it?'

Rose nodded. ‘Vaguely. I went there once with my father on business. En route to Mary Tavy where there's a huge mining agglomeration called Wheal Friendship. Used to be copper back along, but it's been arsenic for many a long year. My father were manager of the gunpowder mills near here, and we used to supply them.'

She glanced across at him, and caught the arresting clarity of his hazel eyes. ‘You were very close to your father, weren't you?' His voice was faltering, sensitive, and with no one to confide in for so long, Rose felt an overwhelming urge to weep, to allow the great, suppressed emotion of her grief to escape in a gushing torrent.

‘Yes.' She scraped the simple word from her throat, surprised at how near she was to sudden tears. But they had been talking for some time, and she must have Seth hidden again before Ned returned. ‘This farmer, what were his name?'

‘Pencarrow. Richard Pencarrow. I can't be sure, but I reckon he'd help me.'

He stopped as the cough irritated his lungs again and he struggled to stifle it. Rose frowned. He had been secreted in the stable for just about a week, with at least another five to go before he could walk out of her life. The weather had turned cold and dank again, and if it worsened his cough and he couldn't smother it he would be discovered in no time.

Rose tried to conceal it, but fear churned uneasily inside her.

W
ith Charles away, it was a case of dreaming up errands to despatch Ned upon. Rose had instructed Cook and Patsy to spring-clean the house from top to bottom so that everything would be in order when the baby arrived. It was unlike Mrs Chadwick to order them about, but it was probably the growing burden of her pregnancy. She spent hours out with the puppies, Cook grumbled mildly, but at least once she had issued her instructions for the day she let them be.

Not so Ned, whom she was for ever sending all over the place. Often to Tor Royal for extra butter and cream, and she never complained if he dallied an hour with the comely dairymaid there. And one day, Rose had declared a desperate craving for some bananas, if you please! If Ned couldn't find any in Tavistock, he was to take the train to Plymouth, where he surely would! Rose had said it didn't matter if he took all day! But while he was out, Dr Seaton had come to check on her health, and while he was there, he was able to re-plaster Seth's ankle in complete secrecy.

Seth's presence had given Rose a purpose in life, something to spur her into action every morning instead of wandering aimlessly about the house. She lived for the moment when it was safe to enter the loose box with whatever provisions she had purloined for him, relishing in the subterfuge she had engaged upon. She couldn't wait to take up her position sitting on the bale near Amber and her pups, facing the open top half of the door so that she could see anyone who approached and warn Seth to hide himself. She bathed the shot wounds in his shoulder regularly, and there were at last signs of improvement. His cough, too, seemed to have eased, a huge relief as it could so easily give him away, and despite the continuing cold and rain, his health appeared to be a little better.

‘When's the baby due?' he had asked amiably.

At just over two weeks old, the puppies were finding their legs and beginning to stumble away from their mother, tippling over quite comically. Amber watched over them indulgently, retrieving them in her soft mouth if they wandered too far, and Rose found she could spend all day being entertained by their antics.

She looked up. Seth was laughing softly as the tiny runt of the litter had toppled on to her minute snout, but in an instant was valiantly heaving herself on to her wobbly legs once more. Seth's generous mouth was stretched with amusement in the near beard on his strong jaw, his face for once quite relaxed, and with his light hair beginning to grow from its convict cut, Rose's heart seemed to trip over itself for not the first time and she allowed the feeling to lap innocently about her tangled emotions.