Page 48 of The Scholar’s Spy

Captain Davenport might well be returning to Lyme with officers, and could turn this very household inside out searching for incriminating evidence. Would Captain Davenport come himself and have her arrested too? A shudder passed up her spine at that thought.

“Good,” Abigail snapped. That would make the following conversation far easier. Of any of the household, Judith was the one she felt the least furious with, since she was the woman she respected most in the world. Besides, Judith had tried to warn her about the dangers of trusting Robert.

“I don’t expect Mother to return for at least three hours.” Judith was moving around the kitchen, her voice welcoming. There was a slight amused tone to her voice as she added, “She’ll want to truly describe to the old dears all of Sophia’s success to the Hamptons. A diamond amongst the waters of Bath.”

Abigail overheard this comment as stepped into the kitchen. “Will it work this time?” Her question was a touch bitter, a great deal of money—the amounts that their father had saved had been spent on Sophia’s well-being. Ensuring their sister had the best gowns, the most stylish of hats, gloves, linens…not to mention the rooms that had to be rented out so that Sophia and Mamma could enjoy the Bath season. “Will Sophia finally marry?”

Looking around the place she could see no sign of the smuggled oilskin bags or the bottles, Maria and her friends must have cleared them all away.

Judith continued with just a slight roll of her eyes. “All I’ve had word from Mr. Franklin are overtures, but Sophia rejects the man, I would imagine it will be settled by the summer. Regardless of how many times he tells me, it is unnatural to be discussing matters of Sophia’s dowry with me.”

“She has a dowry?”

Having finished putting away their mother’s tea things, Judith set about making herself lunch of some thickly cut cheese sandwiches. There was a bright glow to her face, and Abigail assumed this was down to relief at bringing a close to the marriage arrangements. “That is what a greater part of the negotiation is about. He is not happy at the thought of only ten pounds per annum.”

Unable to help herself, Abigail scoffed. How comfortable she might make herself with a whole ten pounds—what a greedy fellow her future brother-in-law sounded to her ears. Besides, did he not realize what a prize Sophia was in her own right without a dowry?

Stepping forward, Abigail sank into the nearest available kitchen chair. It would have been far easier to dwell on the annoyances of Sophia, but if Captain Davenport was to return, she needed to act. It was time Abigail raised the matter with her most intelligent of family members, the only one of whom she reliably felt might be able to offer help or suggest a solution.

“Do you want one?”

“What?”

“A sandwich?” Judith asked, cutting into the serious nature of the talk Abigail wished to raise.

“Yes, yes, very well.”

Up Judith hopped going to fetch another plate, Abigail’s annoyance grew, how could no one see how much danger everyone was in? What if her lover, the man she thought she could trust returned today? Or this very evening? “Judith—I must talk to you.”

“Is it about your Mr. O’Sullivan?” Her sister was smiling when she sank into the seat opposite her. “Perhaps I was mistaken in my prior warnings and the gentleman is not as bad as I feared. Perhaps we could even consider a double wedding—”

“No.” The noise, her response was almost yelled out, and at the back of Abigail’s throat there was a strange burning sensation, similar to how she had felt at her father’s funeral. Ignoring it, but swallowing twice, Abigail straightened her back. “He lied to me. I hope to never see him again.”

“Surely, it is just a lovers quarrel—a mere misunderstanding—” Judith was digging into her sandwich with great relish, seeming not to pay the matter much mind, despite how angry and betrayed Abigail was feeling.

“The man is a liar—he is not even called Mr. O’Sullivan. No, he is in fact a naval Captain, and came here to spy on the town. To catch the lot of us smuggling, so he might bring down his men and arrest the whole place.” The words fell from Abigail’s lips in a great rush. She did not want Judith to interrupt her again, and she wanted the whole of it out.

To Abigail’s satisfaction, Judith dropped her sandwich, her stormy eyes shocked and widening with genuine surprise. Her throat bobbed as she hastily swallowed down her bite, but when she spoke, she was surprisingly calm. “You believe he suspects us, or just Lyme society in general?”

“Both.” Abigail cast a look around the kitchen. How had it been just a few hours ago that Captain Davenport and she had witnessed the smuggled goods dotted around this very room? It should have been longer, given the impact it was having on her life. “He saw this place this morning…”

“I don’t understand, how could—”

“Maria must have—” Abigail said, “You see, when we came into the kitchen this morning there were many bottles, containers that were clearly part of the contraband.”

She explained everything that Captain Davenport and she had seen this morning, then when that was not enough to clear her conscience, she tracked back and made further mention of the sea creature and his promised trip to London. Then she added in about Robert’s half-hearted proposal today and how reluctant she had been to take his address, until Judith could be in doubt of the terrible situation the family was in, if customs officers were to come calling with arrest warrants any day now.

For one long moment, Judith seemed to dwell on this glut of information. Her handsome face contracted, and she pressed her fingers against her left cheek as she chewed on her bottom lip. Finally, she sat further back in the kitchen chair, her brows creasing as she considered matters as she drummed her fingers on the wooden table. “I suppose my only real question is whether any part of you still cares for the gentleman and wishes to wed him.” Her sister was watching her without judgement on her face, her keen eyes kindly. In fact, as she waited for Abigail to speak, Judith leaned closer and interlinked their fingers. “Nothing happened without your consent last night? That I must know…I mean, I hope you are…”

“No.” She did not want to explain how enthusiastically she had consented, but she would never claim to have been unwilling. The promise was something else entirely. “He has lied to me, he thought I was some ringleader of the ‘Pinhayers’, he knows it a woman…” to her own disgust Abigail’s voice broke, and she berated herself for sounding like one of those gothic heroines that Sophia loved to read about. She must sound dramatic, and yet she couldn’t help adding, “I only have myself to blame.” Her voice shifted, and she let the anger expand to include herself as well. “I heard all of the warnings given to foolish young girls and yet I considered myself above them, because I am ‘different’. Papa used to tell me how clever I was, but I am not. Yet I too have been gullible to a charming man. In the eyes of everyone, I am ruined.”

“What nonsense.” Judith’s grip on her fingers tightened for a moment before she stood up and came around the table to give Abigail a quick tight hug. Whilst on the whole Abigail did not enjoy such closeness from her sisters, for a brief moment the embrace was comforting, to be held so by her older sister.

When Judith stepped back, Abigail found herself more than willing to hear more from her sister. “My only advice is perhaps not to tell Mamma any of this, unless you wish us to be dragged several counties over to berate and beg various naval officers for your marriage to this Captain.”

Abigail nodded, only a fool or someone who wished to trap herself into marriage would inform their mother. She was pleased her sister did not think her silly enough to do either. “My reputation never mattered much anyway.”

After a moment’s pause, Judith pulled a slight face as if a new idea had suddenly occurred to her. “It might matter to Mr. Franklin. He has made mention of a relative who is a bishop.”