Marbeck and the Privateers by John Pilkington

I sleep at the back, you wouldn’t be disturbed. I’ve hired out rooms for many years – there’s been no complaint. Were you intending to stay long? I’ll ask for a shilling a day – that’s with your meals and cider or ale. Or wine if you prefer, I can get it easily …’
    She trailed off as Marbeck managed a smile. ‘It will serve well,’ he said. And since he hadn’t thought of a new one, he gave his name as Giles Blunt.
    â€˜You’re welcome, Master Blunt.’ His hostess beamed, but it was false. She was a nervous woman, he saw; perhaps one who was used to keeping secrets. The terrified look on the face of the servant-girl had stuck with him …
    â€˜Don’t you mind Mary Kellett,’ Mistress Buck said, as if divining his thoughts. ‘She’s simple-minded but willing. She’ll fetch and carry for you … Be firm with her, that’s the only way. Has been ever since she came to us.’
    â€˜She’s not your daughter, then?’ Marbeck said, whereupon the woman shook her head quickly.
    â€˜By heavens, no. She’s but a waif we took in. John’s a soft hearted-man, whatever folk say …’ A suspicious look appeared. ‘See now, might I ask what business you have in Weymouth, sir? You must forgive my nosy ways, but we get few men of your station stopping by now.’
    She waited, so Marbeck summoned a few answers and picked one at random. ‘I’m a trader, mistress,’ he answered. ‘I thought to hire a vessel – only for coastal work, you understand. I’ve heard rates are cheaper hereabouts than in Portsmouth. That’s where I was last …’ but he too broke off as realization struck him: Sarah Buck did not believe a word of it. Brazenly she returned his gaze – whereupon he decided to gamble.
    â€˜Or at least, that’s what I tell folk,’ he said, and raised an eyebrow. But there was no inkling of understanding.
    â€˜Then that’s what I shall tell folk, too,’ the mistress of the house said coolly. ‘Will you come up and see the room?’

EIGHT
    T hat night Marbeck lay awake in his chamber, while a sea breeze rattled the casement. The noise of the port had died away, and the only sounds were those of night birds from the hill behind the house. He’d learned that there was a pathway over the hill leading to Newton’s Cove, which looked to the open sea and out to the Isle of Portland. And he had learned something else: there were indeed two castles, device forts built long ago by Henry the Eighth as part of the South Coast defences. Portland Castle was well maintained, but the other one, known as Sandsfoot, was in a poor state of repair. It seemed frost had made cracks in the walls, which were no longer safe; in short, they had begun to slide into the sea.
    He had garnered these scraps at supper, which he took in the small parlour with Sarah Buck. Apart from her absent husband there were no others in the household. The only servant was Mary Kellett, who went about her duties without a word. Having observed the girl discreetly, Marbeck found his curiosity aroused: despite what her mistress had said, he didn’t believe Mary was simple-minded at all. Instead he saw a fearful girl, constantly on watch. More than once he found her eyeing him when she thought he wasn’t looking, and formed the opinion that her initial fear of him had dissipated. What she now thought, however, was impossible to know.
    Over a middling supper – Mistress Buck, it seemed, was an indifferent hostess – he strove to put the woman at her ease. She asked nothing further about him, and answered his own questions in perfunctory fashion. Things had changed a good deal here over the past year, she admitted, and from her tone he gathered that the King’s new laws, and the impending peace with the Spanish, were unpopular with some. At this point Marbeck hinted that