Page 24 of Hold Me Fast
Had she recognized him or not? Yes, she had, for a moment later, when the operatic aria she was singing called for a smile, she focused on his face for the full stanza. So much so, that one of the men in Coombe livery, a great brute of a fellow, turned to see what she was looking at. But not before Jowan ducked his head so all the man would be able to see over the crowd was Jowan’s hair.
She didn’t let her eyes pause through the next piece. It was a rollicking popular song, “The Barmaid’s Catechism”, where a cheeky barmaid sings about getting orders mixed up or serving meat that was questionable. Tamsyn managed to persuade even this jaded fashionable crowd to join in with the chorus, where the barmaid explains how she dashes away at the first sign of a complaint:
“And, if told of the error, though ever sosmall,
Break off with—Dear me, did not somebodycall?
Lord bless me, where are all my peoplehumdrumming?
I must e’en go myself—coming, sir,coming!”
Jowan compared this polished performance to the Tamsyn he knew, the shy musician who could only perform if she pretended she was alone. What else had changed?
“One more time, and louder!” she called out as they sang the last chorus, and the musicians obediently played the tune again. The crowd bellowed the words this time and were laughing along with Tamsyn as they roared out the final line.
“I must e’en go myself—coming, sir, coming!”
By the time the applause for that song had died down, the musicians had crept away, and Tamsyn was alone. With no accompaniment, she sang an old traditional Cornish song, one Jowan knew well. It was another courting song, “Sweet Nightingale”, where the maiden feared to go home through the shadows but was reluctant to accept the boyo’s escort. As the couple marry, Tamsyn met his gaze again, singing, “She was no more afraid, to go in the shade,” before letting her eyes drift away.
Another message? He had no idea. He joined the applause and made no attempt to get closer to her as she thanked Lady Bevan for her hospitality, curtseyed to the crowd, and was escorted away by Coombe’s servants.
After that, he saw no point in staying. He headed back to the hotel to wait for Bran, but it was still early, and he had another thought. Perhaps a bookshop might have the words of the ballad to which Tamsyn directed him. A friendly passerby sent him to Finsbury Square, where he discovered the biggest book shop he had ever seen.
The Temple of All the Musessaid the sign above the door to an enormous foyer. Jowan asked at the counter for the ballad and was directed to the music section, up several flights of stairs.
A sales assistant then took over the search, finding the shelves that held traditional ballads, and soon unearthed a copy ofScots Musical Museum, which held a poem by Robert Burns actually called “Tam Lin”, and the second volume ofMinstrelrey of the Southern Border, by Sir Walter Scott, which had the words of a song called “Young Tamlane”.
The assistant showed him to a table and chair and left him to read. The songs were related—the same story told with a few unimportant changes. A girl had an encounter with either an elf knight or her childhood sweetheart who had been stolen by the queen of the fairies. When the girl found she was with child, she was determined to rescue and wed the child’s father.
She discovered she could break the spell holding her swain on one night of the year, and that by pulling him from his horse and holding him as the queen turned him into one monster after another. At last, the queen had to give up, and the couple had their happy ending.
Scott, in his introduction to the tale, explained there were a number of versions, but with the same basic tale. Was Tamsyn seeing herself as the elf knight, the stolen sweetheart? If so, Jowan was Janet, the girl who outwitted and outlasted the fairy queen. He would, as Burns put it, hold her fast. At least, he would if he could once get his hands on her.
Jowan went looking for the assistant and asked for a pen, ink, and paper. He had to pay for them, but it was, after all, a shop. He settled back at the table with the books and wrote out the words of each song.
Was he fooling himself? He’d show the lyrics to Bran and see if his brother came to the same conclusion about Tamsyn’s purpose in sending him to find the songs. The question remained, how could he get at Tamsyn when Coombe kept her so close? Also, who was Mac? And what did he know?
Chapter Nine
Jowan’s detour andthe time he’d spent copying out the verses had taken longer than he’d expected. Bran was already at the hotel and waiting eagerly to tell him about their disappointment.
They had, as planned, hidden themselves to watch Coombe take his young victim into a brothel that catered to those attracted to young boys. After that, nothing went to plan.
It transpired that the youthful peer was not nearly as drunk or drugged as Coombe believed. He very quickly realized the main business of the house and lost his temper. The Wakefield agent who was inside the house said the more Coombe tried to charm his mark into a better mood, the louder the man became.
Hearing the shouting, the viscount’s uncle, who had insisted on coming along but had promised not to interfere, forgot his promises and raced into the building to rescue his nephew. That led to more shouting, as the uncle explained his presence by telling the young man, at full volume, everything Wakefield had found out about Coombe’s habit of inveigling young men into his orbit and then keeping them there with drugs, alcohol, sex, and blackmail.
Wakefield sent in the constables he’d alerted to the practices happening in the house, but the proprietor and her stock had taken alarm at the noise and left by a secret exit in the cellar. With nothing to show what happened in the building, the constables could do nothing. Coombe declared that he and his friend had accidentally arrived at the wrong house, and no one could prove otherwise.
“Wakefield says they have nothing that will stand up in court,” Bran explained. “On the good side, the viscount didn’t believe Coombe any more than we did. He went home with his uncle.”
He took a sip of the brandy Jowan had poured for him. “I hope you did better.”
“I don’t know,” Jowan said. “I saw Tamsyn but didn’t speak to her. On the other hand, she sent me a message.The Ballad of Tam Lin.”
“The Ballad of Tam Lin?” Bran frowned. “That’s it? That’s the message?”
“Not the whole of it. Apparently, Mac knows.”
