Chapter 4

Early on the next morning, a stocky sailor entered the common room where Anson broke his fast and rubbed his knuckles against his temples in salute.

"Able seaman Horner, sir. Mr. Witmarsh sent me with a boat crew."

Anson appraised the man. He was a hand over five feet in height, but made up for that by being almost as wide. Not much of that girth was fat. In Anson's estimate that man would have made for a champion weight lifter at county fairs.

"Splendid, Horner. I am not quite finished yet. Why don't you go to the kitchen and see if Miss Libby has a bite to eat for you?"

"Thank you, sir. I'll do just that."

When Libby came to his table he told her to put the food for Horner on his own tab. She smiled.

"You don't know how much that man can eat, Cap'n!"

There was some pride in her voice, and Anson suspected that the stocky coxswain was not a stranger to the Mermaid.

Anson finished the meal and enjoyed the last sips of his coffee.

"Pass the word for my cox'n!" he told Stevens.

Horner appeared only seconds later and guided his captain to the landing site. The jolly boat was painted white and was in good repair as far as Anson could see, and the four men crew seemed cheerful enough. He told Horner to put him upriver as close to Morton Hall as possible and sat down with some difficulty while the bowman shoved off.

It was a half hour boat ride upriver. Morton Hall was located not far from the bank, a well maintained manor house surrounded by a small park that reached down to the water. There was even a decent stone landing, and Anson could reach the shore without drenching his shoes.

He gave orders for the crew to wait by the boat and limped up the gravel path towards the manor house. It was difficult because his crutch sank into the gravel with each step.

He was slightly self-conscious about his outer appearance. The prize money had not yet been paid out, and his funds had not allowed for overly fancy clothes. He was wearing his Nº2 uniform coat. The epaulet on his shoulder was gilt, not bullion, and the facings were modest too. His shoe buckles were shiny, but made of pinchbeck, and his stockings were fine cotton, not silk. He could not afford solid gold adornments on his everyday uniforms. His sense of priorities came to his help, and he shrugged inwardly. If the colonel took exception to his appearance, then so be it.

There was a bell rope on the right side of the main entrance, and Anson pulled once. The soft sound of a small brass bell could be heard, but it took a minute before anybody showed. The door was opened by an old butler who took in Anson's uniform and appearance.

"Captain Jeremiah Anson, Royal Navy," he introduced himself. "If possible, I would ask for a few minutes of Colonel Maynard's time."

"Very well, sir! May I ask you to wait in the Colonel's study?"

"Thank you."

And so, Anson waited for what had to be ten minutes before a man in his fifties entered the study wearing a house coat over formal breeches. Those stockings were silk, and the shoe buckles looked like solid gold. Maynard was a wealthy man.

"Good morning, Captain. Captain Anson, I presume?"

"Indeed, sir. I am the new commanding officer of the Sea Fencibles district."

"Such was the information I received ahead of your arrival, Captain. So nice of you to pay a visit so soon! Of course, I am hoping for a good cooperation."

"I hope that I am not inconveniencing you with my visit?"

"Not at all, my dear Captain! After all, my offices make it imperative for me to work in close consultation with the Royal Navy. Yours is a recent appointment?"

"I was posted in the Sea Fencibles for lack of other openings," Anson answered lightly.

"And of course you took the posting rather than wasting months of seniority. I quite understand. It is not a sinecure either, let me tell you! The lawless practices of the local fishermen require constant vigilance on our parts. But let us find a better place for our discussion. May I offer you refreshments?"

"A cup of tea or coffee is always welcome."

"Splendid! Have you broken your fast already?"

"I did, sir. I am lodging in the Mermaid Inn, and Miss Mason is an excellent cook."

"So I hear. Let me lead the way!"

Anson followed his host along a hallway and towards a well-lit garden salon. Anson could hear music playing, and he already expected the next meeting. What he could not foresee was the effect Elizabeth Maynard would have on him.

She was sitting at a white fortepiano playing with closed eyes and a blissful smile on her lips. She looked like a muse of the mythology wearing a flowing sand-coloured dress with red trimmings. Her hair, a cascade of dark brown tresses, flowed over her back and almost down to the stool on which she sat. Hearing their steps on the polished hardwood floor, she opened her eyes and turned her face.

From this moment on, the image of Elizabeth Maynard at her fortepiano, her face turned sideways with a surprised look on it, would be forever burnt into Jeremiah Anson's memory as the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. She was lovely! She had greenish eyes and full bee-stung lips, with a small, turned-up nose. What he could see of her neck was slender and graceful as were the fingers of her hands on the keys of the fortepiano.

"Elizabeth, my dear, please meet the new commanding officer of the Sea Fencibles, Captain Jeremiah Anson. Captain Anson, my daughter Elizabeth."

"I am enchanted, Miss Elizabeth," Anson said formally and rather truthfully.

She rose and curtseyed. She nodded in response and blushed.

"Please excuse my daughter. As the gossip mill doubtlessly informed you, she is a mute."

The young woman blushed even more and bit her full lips.

"Her beautiful play on the fortepiano more than makes good for any lack of speech," Anson answered bowing to the Colonel's daughter.

"Then, perhaps, you would not mind listening to her for a few more moments until she finishes the piece?"

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Colonel!" Anson answered with honest conviction.

"Elizabeth, my dear, pray continue your piece!" his host spoke to his daughter who sat down again and resumed her play.

From where he sat, Anson could see her profile. Her eyes were open now, concentrating on the notes, and he thought that he could detect a blush on her features. It took perhaps five minutes for her to finish, and both gentlemen gave a polite applause at the end. Miss Elizabeth curtseyed while remaining seated, adding uncommon grace to the talents Anson kept chalking up in her favour.

"Thank you, my dear!" the Colonel exclaimed. "Will you join us for a tea?"

After a brief hesitation, Miss Elizabeth nodded.

"Splendid!" the Colonel smiled, lifting a little brass bell and ringing it. A servant appeared briefly after. "Tea for three, Pinings!"

"Very well, sir!" the servant replied and withdrew hurriedly.

"I trust you will enjoy my very own Assam mix, Captain. We have become quite enamoured with it."

Anson thought it best to smile and nod.

"I looked up the name Anson in my genealogy reference, but I could not find any entries?"

"My father was the caretaker for Sir Robert Connington's estates in Berkshire."

"I see. Yet you decided for a Navy career?"

"Indeed. After my parents' death, Sir Robert decided for me to join the Navy."

"Quite so, quite so. For an ambitious young man without proper interest at court or in parliament that appears to be a sensible choice. You seem to be quite young too to be posted captain already."

"I had the honour of serving in the Odin frigate under Lord Nelson at Trafalgar. When my captain was mortally wounded, I assumed command. Together with the Undine frigate, we boarded and took a French ship of the line."

"And quite a hero you are, Captain! How delightful! The good Captain Masters was not the right man for this task. Not enough initiative I fear. Those smugglers were left alone almost as if the Navy had no presence here. I am looking forward to working with an energetic district commander."

"Isn't there a customs cutter patrolling this coast?" Anson asked easily.

The Colonel shrugged. "Customs! They're only interested in filling their pockets from the sale of contraband. Arresting the culprits will only diminish their future takings, so they let them escape whenever justifiable."

"I see," Anson said cautiously. "I saw a few schooners in the harbour. What do they carry for cargo?"

"They used to bring in fruits from the Peninsula, but that trade dried up with Boney's continental embargo. Now they have to sail all the way to the Portuguese islands for cargo, and those Salcombe schooners are not built for long journeys. Of course, I am not blind and unsympathetic. I know that the war has disrupted their connections, but this is no reason to conspire and trade with the enemy!"

"As you know, Colonel, my primary task is the defence of this coast. In this context..."

The tea arrived, and for a few minutes, the conversation ceased while everybody prepared their tea to their liking. Then they sipped appreciatively for a few minutes before the Colonel leaned back.

"Pray continue, Captain!"

"As I said, I must see my priorities in the preparations against landing attempts."