My Constant Lady: 1, #1

By Jane Fenwick

My Constant Lady. The First in the Reynolds Seafaring Saga.  A Tale of Love, Loss and Loyalty.

 

The North East Coast of England 1765. When Gabriel Reynolds meets flame haired serving wench Eleanor Barker in a Whitby tavern little does he know it is a meeting that will change the course of his life. First she runs out on him leaving him frustrated in more ways than one. The next time they meet, in more conventional circumstances, he finds she's engaged to be married. Undeterred and back in his home town of Alnmouth Gabriel knows he has to win the love of this beguiling woman and so sets about putting his house in order. But before he can declare himself fate deals Gabriel a cruel blow. Back in Whitby Eleanor, who is in fact the daughter of a prominent ship builder, has troubles of her own. Learning her fiance has been untrue she ends her engagement. In revenge her spurned lover tells her about Gabriel's past, a past she finds difficult to accept. Forced to choose between love and loss Eleanor flees to Amsterdam searching for answers. Will Eleanor's principles jeopardise her chance of happiness or can Gabriel convince her that he is not the man he used to be? Will the course of their love ever be plain sailing.

My Constant Lady. A sweeping historical love story of one man's love for an unconventional woman.

444 pages.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Fenwick
• Release date: May 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781916195745

Jane Fenwick

Jane Fenwick lives in North Yorkshire. After teaching primary age children she decied to try her hand at penning novels instead of writing school reports. She is an avid reader and especially enjoys historical and crime fiction.

Book preview

My

Constant

Lady

––––––––

Jane Fenwick

Copyright 1st Edition

Copyright © 2020 Jane Fenwick

The right of Jane Fenwick to be identified as the author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

First published as an Ebook in 2020

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or distributed in any printed or electronic form, without the prior written permission of the publisher; nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978-1-916195-72-1

Cover design by Charlotte Mouncey

Cover illustrations iStockphoto.com

Giuseppe Milo (pixael.com) - Sunset in Bude from  https://www.flickr. com/photos/giuseppemilo/ Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic

Printed in Great Britain by Lightning Source Ltd UK

www.janefenwick.co.uk

For Jill

Also by Jane Fenwick

––––––––

Never the Twain

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

A Message from Jane

About the Author

An Exclusive Excerpt

Chapter 1

The North East Coast, England 1765

Eleanor Barker woke but did not open her eyes. The pounding waves on the cliffs below Mulgrave House were the first sound she heard each morning, and the last she heard before sleeping. As a child the sound of the sea had been as a lullaby to her, sometimes temperate other times turbulent. Always the low rumble a constant comfort.  The sound of waves calmed her.

Laying motionless, she began the day with a yawn. She opened her eyes tentatively. The gulls cawed and called like cockerels of the sea, the sounds beckoning her from her comfortable, downy bed to the sand blown beach. She opened her eyes fully and stretched beneath the warm covers. The lemon light of the new day filtered in. The curtains, always left undrawn, even in summer when the dawn light flooded the room far too early, moved in the breeze. She could smell the sea. Hear the sea. She lay half-awake half-dozing, her mind beginning to surface from slumber. Lazily she stroked the silky ear of the small dog that sprawled on the bed. Today’s sounds were temperate.

Then she remembered the night before and her peace of mind was disturbed. She sighed at the recollection. A handsome man’s face swam into her head and she allowed herself a smile before she began to give herself a stern dressing down. That is the last time I act so recklessly, she thought. Why on earth did I think it a good idea to take on the bet? Have I lost all sense?

The dog began to nuzzle her hand as she rubbed Slate’s tummy affectionately. She recalled seeing William Seamer and decided to blame all her woes on him. Her head felt a little muzzy; she remembered taking far more spirits than she was used to drinking. That, coupled with an impulsive nature which could not resist a challenge, all added up to a serious loss of judgement.

‘I need to start acting my age,’ Eleanor told the drowsy dog.

ℛ

Gabriel Reynolds’ trade was shipping. Since his father’s death the previous year, he was now sole owner of Reynolds’ Shipping based in Northumberland. He was in Whitby to order a new ship to be built; not a whaler but a collier. He had chosen the shipyard carefully after several meetings with owners and master shipwrights. Finally he had selected John Barker’s yard; Gabriel had been impressed with the man himself as well as the set up.

When Gabriel arrived at the yard he was shown into Walter Kemp’s office. The large window behind the desk looked directly down the harbour mouth, allowing the master shipwright a perfect view of the comings and goings of the fleet. Kemp was in overall charge of shipbuilding; the man had thirty years’ experience and had impressed the young man at their first meeting. Today Gabriel was in Whitby to finalise the plans and pay over the first instalment by bank draft.

‘There’s a growing need for transporting coal from the great coal fields of the North East down along the Yorkshire coast south to places like Whitby and Hull and I’m determined to expand further and transport down as far as London,’ he said all in one breath. ‘My new idea is to move grain to Holland and iron ore to anywhere that has a need of it. There’s also trade to be had with the Baltics shipping timber. A new ship will help make my plans a reality.’

William Kemp handed Gabriel a glass of brandy and invited him to take a seat.

‘I’m excited by the plans,’ Gabriel continued, ‘and at the same time a little apprehensive at such a large undertaking. This is the first big decision I’ve taken since my father’s death.’

The shipwright sought to reassure him. ‘The cost of the ship will be great but it will quickly pay for itself, I’m sure. It is a large undertaking, I agree. Have you considered getting investors, perhaps three or four to share the cost and as insurance?’

Gabriel shook his head. ‘There are plenty who would be keen to take a share in the ownership of such a vessel, the Reynolds name holds sway on the East coast, but I intend to fund the full cost myself. It’s a risk but not a great one I hope. With shareholders I would have to consult, this way I can be my own man.’

‘You have chosen a good time to expand sir, as you say there’s a growing need. How many ships do you have in your fleet?’

‘There are two ships in our, or should I say my fleet already, but a third vessel is fundamental if my expansion plans are to materialise.’

‘You’re welcome to view the building of your ship whenever you’re in Whitby. Are you a frequent visitor to the town?’

‘Since my father’s death I’m afraid I seem chained to my desk. It will be a good excuse to come to Whitby to see how she grows.’

When the meeting concluded Gabriel felt his insides groan; it had been a long time since he broke his fast. He set off in search of an inn. He had heard The Freelove’s crew were ashore, they were known to get rowdy, so was keen to avoid them. The Fleece was busy with others also eager to steer clear of the newly arrived crew.

Alone he sat in the corner of the harbourside tavern. He had just eaten a mutton stew swimming in grease and was now regretting it. He downed the ale from his tankard in an effort to rid himself of the taste.

He began to read a broadsheet, but the small windows let in little of the bright evening sun and he had to narrow his eyes to focus on the words. As he put aside the paper, having decided his eyes could strain no longer, he thought of his earlier meeting at John Barker’s yard. Gabriel hoped he had made the right decision. He wondered if his father would have approved.

He looked about the inn. A redheaded girl caught his eye; she stood out in this drab little tavern. She sat with a rabble of sailors who looked to be drinking hard but were not loud or troublesome. Another dark haired woman, who seemed a little worse for wear and shabbier than her friend was also in the group. Both young girls were attractive but the redhead had a bloom about her which made her striking, rather than beautiful. Her burnished hair shone in the candlelight and reached to her trim waist. In an effort to tame its abundant waves, a bright green scarf was tied around her head. Her hair was her crowning glory and was by far her best asset. She also had slightly more reserve than her talkative friend who, at that moment, had decided to sit on the knee of one of the sailors.

Gabriel signalled to the landlord for more ale. The serving maid, carrying a brimming tankard, began to squeeze her way through the crowded bar when the redhead quickly stepped in front of her. Gabriel had, at that moment, looked down to fold his newspaper and missed the intervention.

The redhead slipped the maid a coin, took the ale and headed over to Gabriel’s table. She placed the drink before him.

‘Your drink sir.’ Had he been aware who brought his drink he may have looked up, but as it was he continued to think of his expansion plans. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

‘No thank you.’ He glanced up absentmindedly and was surprised to find the attractive girl he had noticed earlier had appeared in front of him. She was smiling at him beguilingly.

Gabriel sat up straighter pulled his long legs in, and suddenly felt more awake, his interest aroused. The pressure of the earlier meeting was still uppermost in his mind and a little distraction would be welcome perhaps? He’d had little time for company recently. An attractive serving wench might be diverting.

‘Won’t you sit awhile or will the landlord have something to say about that?’

‘No sir I’m a free agent and can bide awhile if you would like company.’

Gabriel emptied his tankard in one draught. He signed for more drinks and when they both had brandy in front of them, Gabriel looked her straight in the eye. He was surprised to notice her face flush.

‘You’re not from these parts sir?’ She sipped the brandy.

‘From Alnmouth. I am here in Whitby on business.’ He guessed she would be totally uninterested in his business affairs. ‘You are Whitby born and bred I take it?’ he asked.

‘Yes, although I now reside in Sandsend. It’s only three miles down the beach from here, a little village in a valley.’

She was very becoming, he thought; blue eyes. He ran his fingers through his thick, dark curls and rubbed his chin, which by this late in the day had grown a dark stubble shadow. His fingers felt the rasp as he rubbed his knuckles down his cheek. It was a habit he had when he was trying to make up his mind. He liked the look of her, the decision was made.

‘You don’t seem the usual type of girl one sees in The Fleece or any other tavern in Whitby for that matter. You must be very popular.’

‘I don’t know about that.’ She flushed again.

‘You blush! How quaint, it’s very fetching.’ Gabriel leaned further over the table and as he took her small hand in his, he caught a hint of a flowery scent - rose water?

‘This hand certainly doesn’t look like it’s seen hard labour. What’s your name?’

‘Charity, sir.’

Gabriel threw his head back and laughed. ‘And are you?’

‘Am I what sir?’

‘Charitable of course. Do you offer your company to the visitors of Whitby for free?’ he teased.

‘You don’t look like you’re in need of charity sir.’

It was true. Although soberly dressed, the cut of his clothes showed them to be expensive. The white linen of his shirt contrasted with his tanned face. He continued to hold her hand.

She turned his hand over in hers and said: ‘I could tell your fortune. I know how to read palms.’

Gabriel smiled and arched an eyebrow. He suspected it was going to cost him, but if it meant keeping the girl close for a while longer he didn’t mind. He was in need of company... female company. Since his father’s death he had led a solitary life.

‘See my hands are calloused. They show I’m not afraid of hard work - there that’s a clue for you.’ He noticed how soft her hand felt in comparison to his. ‘Very well, tell me what you see, I pay only for good news I warn you now.’ He smiled as the girl looked intently at his hand. Her head down, he noticed long lashes smudge shadows on her cheeks.

‘You have to cross my palm with silver first.’ She giggled as he took a coin from his pocket. It was as he expected. He watched her closely as she began. Her pale skin had, he noticed, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose which had a tiny bump beneath the bridge.

‘You will marry a dark haired beauty and have many children, all of them boys.’

Gabriel laughed. ‘How do you know I’m not married already and have a family of girls?’

‘You don’t look married and if you were a married man I should hope you wouldn’t be engaging in conversation with a strange woman in a tavern.’

‘You don’t seem strange to me - quite the contrary in fact.’ He was amused by her. ‘You’re right, however, I’m not married but the marriage state doesn’t stop most men from a little flirtation with a pretty girl when they’re away from home.’ He saw her purse her lips and narrow her eyes before continuing.

‘You have recently felt a personal loss and there will be another, though not so grievous as the first.’

Gabriel had only been half attending as he was appreciating her charms, but now she had his full attention. He knew it was all nonsense, but she had hit a raw nerve.

‘Your business will grow and prosper with the help of your wife, but you must make sure to value and respect her opinion if the marriage is to be enduring.’ The redhead looked up and smiled impishly. She bit her bottom lip in concentration. She had perfectly kissable lips, he thought.

‘You will remove from your home town as your wife will want to remain in Whitby near to her own family, but you’ll enjoy life here. You will build boats, a family and a good reputation.’

‘Ah, so my wife will also be a Whitby wench,’ he laughed. He saw her face redden but this time he saw a flicker of something in her look - annoyance, a flash of irritation perhaps? He was a little surprised. This wench was certainly intriguing. He smiled encouragement.

‘A new venture you’re about to embark on will lead to more than just wealth, it will be the beginning of an enterprise which will change the course of your life. You will grow rich and die in your bed at an advanced age.’ She dropped his hand abruptly. ‘That’s all I can see. Will you please excuse me for a moment.’ She stood to leave.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes in confusion. It seemed a sudden end. ‘Are you running away? I thought we might talk a while, perhaps come to some arrangement?’

She assured him she would return.

Gabriel watched the golden haired girl walk away and return to her friends with a touch of regret. She was entertaining, charming even. She also had a pleasing figure; not too tall, with a slender waist and a straight back, her long hair spilling over her pale shoulders, the tight bodice of her dress accentuating her curves. Her blue eyes, burnished hair and ivory skin gave her a Celtic look. He guessed she was probably of gypsy descent.

As he watched, he saw one of the sailors grab her hand, but she pulled it free dismissively, not even looking at the man. The thought of tumbling amongst that hair galvanised him and he rose to his feet. The thought of another night on his own spurred him on.

ℛ

Eleanor, for that was her real name, looked about her. She was suddenly anxious someone would see her, recognise her; she had stood up too quickly and felt a little dizzy. The heat of the tavern and the gin and brandy she was unaccustomed to drinking made the room swim for a second. Eleanor pushed her way through the throng on her way back to her friend Eva Drage, who lifted a glass in tribute.

‘Need some Dutch courage?’ Eva laughed at her own jest. ‘Are yer on then? ‘Spect ’e be staying ’ere at the inn so if you go wi’ ’im I’ll be waiting fer yer to come back down.’

Eleanor looked at her friend. She could see Eva was merry with drink now - the Dutch sailors were being generous.

‘Yer ’aving second thoughts about our bet are yer? Want me to tek over?’ A bet’s a bet, but yer done well. Shall yer call yerself the winner? I should say so.’

Eleanor watched as Eva pushed one of the sailor’s hands from her leg.

‘Right ’andsome ’e is. If yer passing ’im up I’ll gladly tek ’im off yer ’ands. If yer change yer mind it don’t matter, it were just a jape. This life in’t fer the likes of you Eleanor.’

Eleanor was wavering. The heat and noise of the inn were crowding in on her. ‘I’m not used to strong spirits, my head is spinning. Perhaps you’re right I should go before any real harm is done.’

She looked across the inn to where he sat. He was watching her. She could feel his mesmerising eyes on her, up close she had noticed they were a bluish-grey. She felt her stomach lurch in a way she had never experienced before. Was it fear or excitement... perhaps a little of both?

‘The bet’s a daft idea Eleanor, but yer never could resist a challenge. I thought all along nothing but a laugh would come of it. Like as not ’e’s a good ’un, ’e looks well enough but save yerself fer some sweetheart who’ll be kind and gentle, that’s what I’d do if I ’ad a choice. Yer can never tell wi’ men, tek my word fer it. I’ve had some turn nasty.’ Eva glowered, then kissed one of the sailors on his ruddy cheek.

Eleanor took a deep breath and turned a little unsteadily on her feet. Indecision was not something she usually suffered from. Her impetuous nature often got her into bother, as it was about to do now, but her actions could lead to more than a little trouble if she continued down this path. Eleanor realised she was at a crossroads. When the bet was taken, it felt thrilling, somewhat liberating. But now it suddenly felt like madness. Selling herself to a stranger in some sordid inn was indeed reckless. Did she really want to do this?

Then she saw his expectant face, his twinkling eyes. She could still change her mind.

He stood before her and held out his hand. ‘It’s been a long day and I have an early tide to catch tomorrow, will you join me?’

She hesitated, then raised her eyes to his, took his hand and allowed him to lead her up the stairs.

Chapter 2

When Gabriel Reynolds’ father died unexpectedly, his only son became a rich man. Gabriel, at four and twenty, inherited his father’s shipping freight business, stakes in a number of ships and a rope making business. There were also stocks and shares, ownership of some local houses which were tenanted and land above the estuary which was currently let to a farmer. Jack Reynolds had also left substantial monies at the bank.

Gabriel had been well trained by his father to take over the business, but had been grieved to do so as he had not foreseen having to take on so much responsibility so soon. As an only child he felt his aloneness. He was forever grateful for having one good friend in the world.

That friend was Bendor Percy whom he had met at school. One supposed Bendor was a cut above Gabriel; him being an aristocrat, but there was an instant liking on both sides. Bendor was as fair as Gabriel was dark. His was the sunnier character, while Gabriel had learnt to be melancholic from his father at an early age. Both were scholarly young men but red blooded nonetheless. They were also keen to continue their education outside the classroom.

‘Emma is a sweet girl, she’s an orphan,’ Gabriel announced while walking back to school late one night. They had discovered they could buy sex like every other commodity; it was a revelation to them.

‘Most of the girls have no family. Who knows what would happen to them if they didn’t support themselves in this way, although I shouldn’t want a sister of mine to have to sell herself to survive. Yet we take our pleasure, toss them a coin and leave satisfied. I sometimes think it wrong.’

The two friends already realised their extracurricular activities involved real women with real feelings and felt an uncommon respect for them. An older boy from school had led them to an area of town where a certain type of woman could be bought for the price of a brandy or a couple of gins.

‘Of course it would be preferable to be with women who did so of their own free will and not because they were being paid.’

Both had soon come to the same conclusion all young men of their position had arrived at; that ladies of their rank were constantly chaperoned and so not available at any price before marriage.

‘I know such handsome bucks like us shouldn’t have to pay,’ Bendor laughed, ‘but even when we managed to bed those two lovelies at Whitby fair, you have to agree, it was the same transaction as we had with the brothel. We paid for their pies and their ribbons, we showed them the freak show, we won them trinkets at the shooting gallery and then they let us tumble with them behind the tent. We still had an exchange but there was no actual money passing between us; we still paid for our delights.’

After their first fumblings with the opposite sex they had grown more discerning and graduated from tavern wenches to the more high-class establishments where a better kind of woman could be procured. As they had the means at their disposal they did not have to resort to sordid encounters in dark alleys, but could experiment in the relative comfort of a superior brothel. Gabriel, the more fastidious of the two, was happy to pay more for a cleaner, sweeter smelling girl.

‘When I fall in love I’ll give up paying for my pleasure once and for all. Well, when I marry at any rate.’

‘I agree but why marry at all if not for love, we’re both fortunate in that neither of us has to marry an heiress. Though should a beautiful one present herself I might be tempted!’ Bendor winked.

Sir Bendor, as he was now, did not fall in love with an heiress but became acquainted with a young lady named Grace. She had a noble name but a mean dowry. Gabriel had been thrown together with Caroline Hodgeson, the daughter of his father’s best friend. As it happened she would eventually inherit her father’s fortune and the joining of the two families was considered an advantageous match.

Both young men had been attracted to these women but knew until the wedding night they would be lucky to steal a chaste kiss; chaperones were notoriously hard to lose. So their weekly lessons in love continued until they left school and became engaged to their respective mates. At university, Bendor was often to be found in the pleasure gardens of London while Gabriel was to find his needs met when a chance meeting literally threw a woman in his path.

By the Christmas holiday, the term before Gabriel was to leave school, he was a strapping young man; well muscled as a result of rowing and assisting at his father’s business. He was back in Alnmouth for the festivities and had just concluded a business transaction on behalf of his father. The north westerly wind was an idle one that cut a path through a body rather than around it. The thin layer of snow had frozen overnight and the cobbles around the bay were slippery and treacherous underfoot.

Gabriel turned up his collar to head for home when a woman carrying a basket slipped and fell right there in front of him, her purchases spilling out and rolling away.

‘Let me lend a hand. Are you hurt?’ Gabriel helped the young woman to her feet but could see, even in the darkening December gloom, the arm was swelling. He rescued her shopping from the ground. ‘Here take my arm, you look a little unsteady, do you have much pain?’

‘It’s only my wrist sir. Little else hurts.’ She looked at her arm which she cradled carefully as if it were made of glass. Her face showed the pain she felt.

‘Let me escort you home. It’s so slippery you should not risk another fall, I can carry your shopping. Do you live hereabouts?’

‘Just around the corner sir, thank you that would be most kind, but I should hate to cause you trouble.’

They introduced themselves to each other. Her name was Libby Lawson.

They arrived at a small house not in the worst part of town but not far from it. He followed the woman into a room which, although small, was clean but sparsely furnished. It had no fire in the grate and the room was icy cold.

‘Is there something I could use to make a support for your arm to make you more comfortable Miss Lawson?’

She directed him to a thin shawl and he attempted to make a sling with it.

‘Let me make you a dish of tea or perhaps you could take something stronger for the pain and the shock. Do you have brandy? ’

‘I’m afraid not,’ she said.

He set about making the tea.

‘If you will permit I’ll send for a doctor as I think your arm may be broken. I saw a similar sight on board my father’s ship once and the doctor used splints to keep it still, but in time it was as good as new.’

Libby looked concerned. ‘Oh dear I need to work and without use of my arm I’ll be hard pressed as I live alone as you can see. I’m sorry sir you have been most kind but I can’t afford to pay the doctor. I’ll do as you say and attempt to keep it still and hope the swelling goes down by morning.’

In spite of her protests, Gabriel went off to summon a doctor. He also went on board his father’s ship, The Jack and Alice, and threw a bag of coal over his shoulder; if there was one thing that they had much of it was coal. On his return he saw she was gratified he had not only brought coal, but set about making a glorious fire.

‘You’re most attentive sir, without your assistance today I don’t know how I would have managed.’

She was older than Gabriel by perhaps six or seven years and was handsome in a dark particular way. He had also thought to bring brandy and gave her a tot hoping it would ease her pain.

The next day he called to see how she did. ‘I’m glad to see Doctor Chaffer has been, the strapping and splints will help, no doubt.’ Gabriel had also brought her food from home. ‘Our cook always makes too much food for my father and I.’ He placed a cheese pie and a fruit tart on the small table. ‘This should keep you fed for today at least. I’ve called and paid the doctor this morning so you need not worry about that.’

She smiled and thanked him.

‘You said yesterday you had to earn your own living, do you not have friends or family who can help you?’

‘I have neither friends nor family left sir. I’m the only daughter of a merchant from Alnwick. When Father died my brother, who was my only relative, lost all our property and money.’ She looked ashamed. ‘First he speculated and bought shares in a ship that sank and then got us into further debt. Finally he drank himself to death leaving me alone and destitute.’ She sat by the fire that Gabriel had built up but still shivered. ‘I never had to earn my own money when Father was alive. I kept house for him and had a good standard of living, but now I’m brought low as you can see. I’m reduced to taking in sewing as I have training for little else.’

‘It’s a sorry position you find yourself in and not one of your making. It’s a shame your brother was so neglectful of his duties.’

‘I’d like to try to be a governess or perhaps a companion to a lady and move back to my home town of Alnwick.’

Gabriel listened and being a practical sort was all the time thinking how he could help her until she could again help herself. ‘If it would help I could arrange for a girl to come in each day to assist you? Please don’t worry about the cost, I’m able to pay. I’ve also arranged for Dr Chaffer to check on how your arm is mending, he will call again in a week or so.’

For the next few weeks Gabriel sent over food and coal and called to see Libby himself whenever he was able. The weeks passed and her arm began to mend. Gabriel returned to Alnwick to finish school.

One evening a year or so later as Bendor passed the port to his friend, they discussed Gabriel’s liaison.

‘On the surface I’m aware the transaction with Libby may be seen as disreputable. It happened unintentionally that Libby became, well... my mistress I suppose you would call her, for I see that’s what she is.’

Bendor laughed, his fair skin was becoming flushed the more he drank. ‘You inadvertently found yourself calling on a pretty lady who was willing to - ’

‘Ben! I helped her when she was in distress - she was in need. The other thing came about slowly. I had no idea what would occur in the beginning. I accept I share her bed and leave money discreetly, but neither of us ever mentions the fact, it’s not like that at all. I know the money keeps her from further ills and I admire the way she’s coped with the hand she’s been dealt. She doesn’t pity herself and she’s determined to pull herself out of the hole she’s in.’

Bendor grinned, his crooked eye tooth showing. ‘It can’t be easy for her yet I bet she blesses the day she fell at your feet.’ He looked about for the cigars and not finding them pulled the bell.

‘When I left school and was back in Alnmouth I began to call upon her. I only meant to be friendly, keep an eye out for her. She’d had rotten luck with that brother of hers. I bought her trinkets and ribbons thinking to cheer her. I had no ulterior motive.’

‘I believe you thousands wouldn’t.’ Bendor refilled their glasses. Both were a little worse for wear.

‘I’ve been in the habit of calling most weeks when I’m not away on business, but now I’m in Alnmouth full time it’s convenient I suppose, but recently - ’

‘I’ll bet it’s convenient you lucky dog!’

‘You make it sound sordid. It is not. It was innocent at first as I said. I’d not meant it turn out this way. She’s older than me but it’s I who has the experience not her; she’s not a common prostitute. I truly like Libby. We’re friends but I don’t love her of course, I love Caroline.’

‘Then where’s the harm? You’re not keeping her prisoner, she’s free to act as she chooses. You’re doing her a favour.’ Bendor winked suggestively.

‘I’ve considered trying to find her some other sort of employment but she says she would prefer to sort her own life.’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘I have helped her remove to a better neighbourhood where I think it safer for her at any rate.’

‘So long as the arrangement suits you both I can’t see a problem, though I expect Caroline would not see it in those terms. So long as you’re discreet. You’re a young man what else are you to do?’

‘It’s suited us both but now... we have little in common apart from the obvious of course.’ Gabriel shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, then laughed. ‘She gets a handsome, virile, undemanding lover and I have the attentions of an attractive, older woman while I wait to marry, then bed my fiancée.’

‘You’re a lucky beggar Gabe, I’m still playing fast and loose with the kitchen maid and