She turned, not recognizing the voice, but only because its owner was out in the open rather than back in stores.
‘Mr Brocky?’ Remembering the Club’s last meeting, she was hard pressed to keep away a smile. He looked so very solemn, though, and she managed it. ‘How can I help you?’ His position in the army was unclear, being a civilian. It was generally reckoned that he was around a master sergeant’s rank though.
‘I need a quiet word. In stores, if possible.’ He glanced around as though expecting all the spies in Denland to be eavesdropping.
Inside the storehouse it was cool and quiet, fragrant with the supplies and Brocky’s hanging bunches of herbs. Rather than taking his place behind the counter, whence he dealt out his lopsided provisioning, he beckoned her into the back room, where he tipped out the last of their port from two nights ago.
‘Drink up,’ he instructed. ‘John Brocky has a favour to ask. You may not survive the shock.’
She lounged back against the door frame. It was shock enough to see him standing; she was so used to his overstuffed chair, the high stool behind his counter or his hammock, as his natural habitats. He was bigger than she had realized, quite a bear of a man and taller than she was by a handful of inches. His belly sagged out over his breeches, despite the best efforts of his straining shirt.
‘So what’s in it for me?’ she asked him, watching his eyes widen. ‘Come on, Brocky, I’ve been here long enough that I know a favour done for stores must have its benefits in return.’ She would not usually have insisted on it, when doing a favour for a friend, but somehow she felt he would think less of her helping him out for free. It was a strange thought; something Mr Northway might have suggested.
‘You wise up fast,’ he muttered.
‘I’m sure you draw up a bill as soon as someone gets a favour from you,’ she replied.
His face suggested that he could not deny it. ‘Well . . . let me know what you want. I’ve got my share of contacts back home. But, listen, you mustn’t tell anyone. I’ve got to have your word on that before I say more.’
‘You have it.’ It was a man’s world, here, of giving and taking words for surety, and she felt oddly flattered that he had no doubt about the strength of hers.
‘Well . . .’ He wrung his hands. ‘Listen, Marshwic, you’re a woman.’
‘I can’t deny it.’
‘You must get that habit of backchat from your brother-in-law,’ he observed glumly. ‘Well, it so happens that . . . You remember the ribbing you all gave me? Well, well, I can’t honestly say that I haven’t . . . noticed Miss Angelline. Master Sergeant Angelline, rather.’ To her amazement, he sighed as mournfully as any callow swain mooning over his shepherdess. ‘She’s quite a sight, isn’t she?’ he said fondly. ‘Lovely girl. Any man would be happy . . .’ Another monstrous sigh. ‘All right, so I’ve taken a shine to her. Nothing wrong with that, is there?’
She let him off the hook with: ‘None of my business either way, Brocky.’
‘Thank you, Marshwic. Good of you to say so. But the thing is . . . Well, what you all were saying about Pordevere, that maniacal bastard. I mean, even if I wasn’t . . . it’d still be my duty as a decent chap to make sure he didn’t get his philandering hands on her, wouldn’t it? But he’s got all those medals, all that charging-around-with-drawn-sword rubbish going for him. I mean, I could beat him at chess any day of the season, but that’s not what women look for in a man, is it?’
Emily wasn’t sure whether to feel mortally embarrassed for him or to collapse in fits of hysterical laughter, so she made do with a strangled ‘Different women look for different things.’
‘The thing is, just because you wouldn’t catch me marching around with a musket all day doesn’t mean I’m any less of a man, does it? I’m just too sensible to go constantly throwing myself in the way of the guns. There’s nothing wrong with a healthy attitude, surely?’ He had started pacing the narrow width of the room. ‘Only . . . if I want that woman to notice what a well-favoured and eligible individual I am, it’s not easy to do it from behind a counter. I