The Man in the Green Coat Read Online Free

Gerard’s face was greenish. One hand to stomach, one to mouth, he rushed to the rail and leaned over.
    Willem laughed. “ Le mal de mer! Never fear, mademoiselle, no one dies of seasickness, though one may wish to. Permit that I assist you.”
    He helped her up, and leaning on his strong arm, she stumbled painfully to the cabin.
     

Chapter 3
     
    The last light of the setting sun shone golden on the whitewashed walls of the King’s Head at Dover; after the storm, the sea air was fresh and clean-smelling.
    The Honourable Lucius Everett lounged in the doorway of the inn, half-listening to the buzz of conversation in the coffee room behind him. A high-pitched voice rang out complainingly above the hubbub.
    “‘Pon rep, my lord, I was forced to leave half my gowns behind in Paris, such was our hurry. All the latest French modes! Do not tell me I shall find anything to equal them in London.”
    Mr Everett’s lip curled. It was not the first time he had heard that lament. England at war again, and all the silly chit cared about was her Parisian fashions! Not that she differed in that from the majority of her class, both male and female, he thought with scorn.
    Much my lady would have cared for his opinion! A single glance in the passageway had classified Mr Everett as a nobody.
    He was a gentleman of some thirty summers, slightly above the average in height and well built, but plainly dressed in a slate-coloured frock coat. Though his thick brown hair was cut short and unpowdered, it was brushed back from his forehead in a far from modish manner. His features were nothing out of the ordinary; certainly no one would have described him as handsome. Yet a perceptive observer might have noticed a clear lucidity to his gaze, an unusual, almost piercing quality, and the stern line of his mouth spoke of determination and purpose.
    The innkeeper stepped out for a breath of air, wiping his round, shiny red face with a spotted handkerchief.
    “Whew!” he exclaimed. “It’s right glad I am the high quality generally patronises the Ship, for we ain’t set up to cope with their whims and crotchets and it’s no good pretending we are. Still, that’s the last of ‘em running from Boney. We’ll soon be back to business as usual, for they’ll be on their way to London soon as I can get enough carriages to take ‘em. You’ve dined, Mr Everett?”
    “Not yet, Colby. I’ll wait till the crush is gone.”
    “Right you are, sir. I’ll warn the wife to set aside some mutton pasties and a dish of mushrooms, for we don’t want our regulars complaining of poor service.”
    “In that case, send Baxter to bring me a mug of ale!”
    “Mr Baxter is a guest here just like you are sir. I’ll fetch it myself.”
    The stout landlord hurried away. His place was taken by three fashionable bucks. Mr Everett moved aside to give them space, and they stood there on the threshold, blocking the doorway, discussing the shocking lack of entertainment to be found in Dover.
    They had just decided that a game of hazard in their private parlour offered the best chance of amusement, when a hackney pulled through the archway into the courtyard. As it drew to a halt, a pale-faced youth jumped out, steadied himself against the carriage, and addressed the group at the door.
    “Sirs, pray tell me, is there a room available here?”
    The dandies turned to stare. One of them raised a quizzing glass to examine the lad’s scruffy clothing. None deigned answer; they resumed their conversation.
    Mr Everett stepped out of the shadow.
    “I fear the inn is full,” he said. “Have you tried elsewhere?”
    “Yes, everywhere.” The boy sounded exhausted and desperate. “My sister is hurt. She can go no further. What am I to do?”
    From the carriage came a low, sweet voice. “Gerard, perhaps there is a corner where I might sit for a while. Let us go in and ask.” A wavering figure appeared, dressed in grey breeches, white shirt and blue jacket. “Help me