The Sea Officer Bentley Thrillers by Jan Needle

Author:Jan Needle [Needle, Jan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-03-23T22:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-EIGHT

It was a hanging matter; what he’d done, but Will did not expect to hang for it. Unless he found some dire communication at Dr Marigold’s that should delay him, he hoped he would be back betimes at Deptford, where he had no fear of anything save bluster from his commanding officer. Despite his clothes and travel-stained appearance he was recognised at the outer door and treated civilly within. Starving by now, he ate hot meat and oysters from a passing wench, and washed it down with ale. The heat was prodigious, the noise and music like a drug, but he crossed the court before the comfort overwhelmed him. Sam’s description of Annette amused him as he waited at the doorway to the inner house: like a whip. Then her bed, mercifully, would not be a place for sleep, and sleep, oh sleep, was the only thing in the whole wide world to tempt him between the covers. Quick message, given or received, and he would be away.

Mrs Putnam, when she saw him, gave a squeak much younger than her years. She half rose from her table, and put her arms out as if she would embrace him, except there were three feet of deal between them. Her expression was between amazement and alarm.

“Mister Bentley! But so soon, how did you know? And those togs! Have you then left the Navy?”

“Margery, well met. Forgive me for the clothes, I am in haste.”

“I wager that you are! Indeed you are!” She bustled backwards from her seat, and did come round the table. Her face was positively roguish as she took his arm. “Well, I declare! She said that you would find her out, but so quick, so very quickly!”

“Annette?” said Will. “Has he sent a message then, already? Where is she?”

“No, not Annette, you gooseturd!” snapped Margery. “Christ, do not tell me you’ve forgot!” This gave her sudden pause; she jerked his arm distractedly, then released it. “But she’s protected now,” she muttered. She raised her eyes to his. “I’m talking of your Deb,” she said. “But what mean you? Have you not come to search her out, to see her?”

There was a horrible excitement rising in his guts and nearly drowning him. It was so clear, that Mistress Putnam sighed with glad relief. Unceremoniously she dragged him down the passageway, past all the doors he knew that led to tiny rooms that whores lived in, into a quarter that he did not know. It was more opulent than the outer reaches, with fewer doors. Before one of these she stopped, put her finger on her lips, and listened.

“Lor’!” she whispered. “How I wish that I could stay and watch. But as I’m paid to stop it happening, I’d best just fade away! Don’t knock; go in and fear her senseless!”

She pushed him at the door and slipped off down the passage without looking back, but Will had to fight himself for some time before he could even touch the latch.

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