Page 156 of A Winter By the Sea
“Actually, sir,” During blurted, “I duly resign my place as keeper of the plate. I must return to London as soon as may be and help my family.”
Captain Conroy frowned. “Your resignation is not accepted. At least not yet. Stay for the next few days, as we will be receiving many high-ranking officers and other visitors and will need all the help we can get.”
Mr. During blinked in surprise. “I ... will stay for a few days, if I am needed, but after that I must return to London.”
Mr. Thomson asserted, “To that end, Captain, I respectfully insist that Mr. During be paid all the wages owed to him, as the delay in payment has contributed to his family’s financial ruin.”
“You insist, do you?”
Mr. Thomson lifted his chin and met his superior’s gaze. “Yes, sir.”
Conroy shook his head. “You talk of money at such a time?When your master lies dead in the next room and his widow grieves, finding comfort only in her infant daughter?”
“Yes. At precisely this time,” Mr. Thomson replied. “For Mrs. During is grieving as well, and justifiably worried for the future of her daughters, and we are all equal in God’s sight.”
“Are we indeed? That’s the sort of radical thinking that led to the French Revolution.”
“I don’t want revolution, Captain—merely for During to receive the wages he’s due, so he may help his family.”
Again Conroy harrumphed, suspicious eyes raking over one face and then the next.
“Something is off here. I smell a rat.” He swiveled to Emily. “And why are you here, Miss Summers? Standing before me to defend the cause of another misbehaving lad. The last one was guilty, but you got him off by playing on the duke’s sympathy. Do you think to try your wiles on me?”
Mr. Thomson stepped forward and faced the captain squarely, eyes glinting with suppressed anger. “Captain, may I remind you that Miss Summers is a lady and has done nothing to deserve your biting sarcasm. If you wish to cut down someone, let it be one of us. Miss Summers is not under your command for you to treat in such an ungentlemanlike manner.”
“You forget yourself, Thomson.”
James’s jaw clenched. “Not I, sir.”
Emily thought quickly, eager to alleviate the tension. “Come, everyone. This is a sad, difficult time and emotions are running high. Let us not quarrel. As you reminded us, Captain, the duchess awaits these candlesticks, no doubt eager to see arrangements completed for her husband to lie in state.”
Conroy scowled at her and for a moment longer his black eyes shot daggers at all four of them. Then the door opened,and the duchess herself appeared, eyes red from weeping, her eight-month-old daughter in her arms.
“Captain ... ?”
The men bowed and Emily immediately curtsied, but Her Royal Highness’s red-rimmed eyes latched on to the gleaming candlesticks. “Ah,gut.”
As his gaze shifted to the duchess, Conroy’s glower evaporated, and his demeanor became obsequious and almost ... caring. “Yes, they are here. Now we may finish readying the room.”
He grasped a tall candlestick in each hand and followed the duchess out.
The others took advantage of the interruption and quickly retreated.
Plans for the duke’s removal from Sidmouth and funeral were changed by yet more grievous news. His father, King George III, died less than a week after his son. His Majesty’s death and funeral taking precedence, Prince Edward’s was therefore postponed.
It was a strange, somber time. King George had been ill for years. He was eighty-one years old. His death should not have been a shock or even a surprise.
Yet it was.
He had been king for almost sixty years. Most people alive had never known another monarch. Yes, his eldest son had reigned as Prince Regent since his father had been declared mentally unfit to rule, yet even so the king remained a fixture in people’s hearts.
God save the king.
Affectionately called “Farmer George” because of his simpletastes and interest in farming, King George had long been their absentee leader, their benevolent grandfather, their comfort and anchor during dark times. And he was gone.
Of course there were a few scoffers—mostly young people—who muttered “Good riddance” or “Down with the monarchy,” but most people were regretful, nostalgic, and respectful. They viewed the king as a man of sincere Christian faith and moral piety who took his title “Defender of the Faith” far more seriously than the Prince Regent was ever likely to do.
Remembering the fortune-teller’s prophecy that this year two members of the royal family would die, Emily felt she had been struck an even more personal blow, forced to consider the woman’s words once more.“You shall break your heart. Lose it ... utterly.”
