Chapter 6

It took little persuasion from Anson to talk Colonel Maynard into accepting Chalke's invitation. Miss Elizabeth seemed to be a little less enthusiastic, but she made a brave face and gave Anson a smile.

They went to their rooms to change, and Anson saw no reason to be ashamed for his appearance. His Number 2 uniform was well cut. The deer leather glove was unobtrusive enough, and his limp was less noticeable now. The pinchbeck shoe buckles and the gilt epaulette were of some concern to him, but his sword made up for that. It had been awarded to him by the Patriotic Fund, "A Fine Gilded Sword Valued at Fifty Guineas". It was gifted to him in recognition of his conduct at Trafalgar, and it looked impressive. He had received it a mere two weeks ago with the mail from Plymouth, and he was still very proud of it.

Colonel Maynard was wearing his old regiment's colours. He had been a major with the 26th of Foot before accepting the patent from the East India Company, and he seemed to prefer the King's coat over the company colours.

Elizabeth Maynard wore a cream coloured silk dress that complimented her dark chestnut hair, and a cape of dark red wool cloth. Anson could not help but steal glances at her all during the brief walk to the Golden Lion.

Arriving there, they were led to a well laid table. Admiral Chalke rose courteously, and Anson had to effect the introductions. Over soup, the conversation was mostly confined to idle chat, but over the main course, the two older men entered into a more animated discussion. It so turned out that the admiral and Colonel Maynard had common acquaintances in Plymouth, and their conversation soon revolved around Plymouth society, leaving Anson increasingly out.

That was just as well, for it allowed him to begin a quiet exchange with Elizabeth Maynard. Soon, her stylus flitted over her wax tablet as she expressed her views on the subjects of their discussions. That ended when they overheard that Anson himself had become the subject of the older men's conversation.

"He'll have a future in the Navy yet, my dear Colonel," Chalke opined. "A captain at just over twenty and five years, he'll hoist his own flag in twenty years or less. He is by far the most energetic officer under my command."

"Is that so?" Maynard asked back, seemingly interested in the matter. "I thought him capable myself, but it is reassuring that you share my impression. Salcombe may not be important in the great scheme of things, but we are glad of having a competent officer in charge of our coastal defences."

"Let me assure you that the officers under my command take their responsibility seriously. Now, Captain Anson has suggested that we try to enlist the smugglers on this coast in the gathering of intelligence. Given the urgent need for reliable information about the enemy, a bit of lost revenue seems tolerable, doesn't it?"

Maynard sighed. "I will admit to the merits of such an idea, and as commander of the militia I see the military reasons, but I am also the justice of the peace and magistrate for Salcombe. I am bound to uphold the law. You will understand my conflict, I hope."

"Quite so, my dear Colonel. A balance must be found or the smuggling will increase beyond control. Perhaps a few select culprits can be identified whose loyalty to the crown is not in question?"

"I shall give it some thought, Admiral. Knowing that the scheme has your approval adds some weight to it, of course."

"I am confident that we can reach an agreement that will not cause you a conflict of interest. Perhaps there is one or two smugglers who cannot be caught anyway?"

Maynard looked at Anson. "The Witmarshes are suspected, but with the younger Witmarsh son in command of that Sea Fencibles schooner, we cannot catch them without embarrassing the service, too."

"Mr. Witmarsh is an able officer. I have no reasons to suspect him of violating his duties."

Maynard shook his head. "I have known the Witmarshes for a long time. The younger Witmarsh took pains to be assigned to the schooner. Captain Masters suspected him of passing information to his family."

Anson allowed himself a smile. "I suspect the very same, Colonel. To my knowledge however, we cannot even implicate the other Witmarshes, can we?"

"No, and blast them for their cunning!" Maynard answered. He cast an apologetic look at his daughter. "Forgive me, Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth Maynard smiled back and shook her head indicating she was not offended. Anson took up the thread again.

"I believe we can use Witmarsh's family ties for establishing the first contact. With your leave, I shall endeavour to lay the bait. We must lay a few ground rules, though. There can be no increase of their activities. We may even have to seize some of their contraband cargoes to dispel any suspicions on the part of other smugglers."

Chalke weighed in. "An excellent idea, Captain. I suggest that we let Captain Anson establish some contact and see whereto it leads. We can always rescind any agreements should the opposite side not adhere to them. Can we agree to that, Colonel?"

Maynard nodded grudgingly. "If it's just the Witmarshes, I can turn a blind eye."

"Splendid, gentlemen!" Chalke expostulated. "Now let us return to the pleasant part of this evening. We should not neglect your charming daughter, Colonel."

Again, Elizabeth Maynard shook her head and smiled. Maynard smirked.

"Knowing my daughter, she enjoyed our discussion more than we did."

For the rest of the evening, the talk at the table turned to gossip and local news. Chalke proved to be a knowledgeable man and not averse to idle chit-chat. It was past ten o' clock before the party broke up. Anson accompanied the Maynards back to the Three Lions where he retired to his own room.

They spent two more days in Plymouth allowing Anson to purchase a few more items he needed. He spent almost twenty Guineas on a pistol – he could only use one now – that he saw by chance in a showcase. It was a beautiful piece of work, with a walnut stock, and more importantly with rifled barrels. It came with the oil drenched cloth squares needed for a perfect fit of the pre-cast, perfectly spherical balls. It had finely worked flint locks too. Colonel Maynard admired it enthusiastically before rushing out to order two more for his own use.

The return voyage in the Lady Jane was much faster and more exhilarating, for the handy schooner danced over the waves at breakneck speed, showering the passengers with spray for most of the journey. Nevertheless, Miss Elizabeth insisted on staying on the small quarterdeck against her father's protestations. She did not feel the slightest discomfort due to the small ship's lively movements, and she quickly developed sea legs, balancing the movements easily. A few strands of her hair were loosened by the fresh breeze flying around her face, and Anson stared at her with all the hunger of a love-sick young man.

Unfortunately, his duties prevented him from visiting the Maynards for a week after their return. However, when he explained this to Miss Maynard, she just nodded and gave him a smile making his poor heart skip several beats. On the very next morning while he sat in the common room of the Mermaid breaking his fast, a footman delivered a letter to him. The address, Captain Jeremiah Anson Esq., The Mermaid Inn, Salcombe, was written in Elizabeth Maynard's neat handwriting, and he broke the seal immediately.

Finishing the letter, Anson realised that he had been smiling all while reading it. Elizabeth Maynard was indeed forward, writing with her heart on her quill, so to speak. He could easily imagine how lonely she must have felt with only her father as company and being branded as "the poor mute girl". He could not feel regret over her impediment though. She was twenty-four years old and a strikingly pretty young woman, well bred, and cultivated. Without her muteness she would have been married long ago. Even if not, she would not deign to look twice at an upstart captain who was a cripple to boot. It was a strange set of coincidences indeed that brought her into his reach.

Once the government decided to pay the Trafalgar prize money, he would have the financial standing to approach her father about the possibilities of courting her. It was still ambitious of him, of that he was aware. Yet, of all the women and girls he had met since his promotion, Miss Elizabeth had been the only one to show an interest in his life and profession.

Still smiling, he went to his room and readied inkwell and quill. Taking a fresh sheet of paper, he began to compose his answer.

Rereading what he had written, Anson briefly considered tearing up the letter, but in a fit of derring-do, he folded and sealed the letter. Ringing the bell, he tasked Libby Mason with having the letter sent over to the Maynards. She gave him a sly little smile and promised to send their boy over as soon as he was finished with his other chores. There was a little spring in his limp when he set out for the quay to meet his boat crew. The Lady Jane was waiting for him for another inspection cruise along the coastline that was under his command.