For the lad to be involved in smuggling means that something must have been terribly wrong. Is Camdyn’s family in need of money?
Had he gotten into gambling or some other activity that had bled his pockets dry?
Whatever it was, it must be bad for Camdyn to be willingly defying him and the rules he had laid out the very first day of the lad’s employment.
“Yer not to commit any crimes under my roof, ye ken, lad?” Donnan had told him that first day in his study, back when the lad had looked so thin and sickly. “I’ll make sure ye have everythin’ ye need to be comfortable, but in return I expect ye to follow my rules, and chief among them is that ye abide by the law. That means no more poachin’, no stealin’, ye hear?”
Camdyn had shaken his head so earnestly that day, looking so penitent for poaching, that Donnan had assumed the lad would never commit a crime again. Something must be wrong for him to so blatantly flouting the rules. Eventually, Donnan closed the sack of grains, tying it tightly and pushing it back down under the bushes.
As retraced his and Camdyn’s steps and made his way back to the castle, his first instinct was to go immediately to the lad and confront him, get him to confess. But Donnan knew that as desperately as he wanted to confront the lad, he needed more information before he did that. He needed to know just how far into this illegal trade Camdyn had gotten himself, so Donnan knew what he needed to do to help him. And for that, Donnan would have to follow the boy.
But Donnan could not let the trade go on. Struggling under its weight, he lifted the sack into his arms, deciding to dispense with it later. For now, the most important thing was that it could not be found by the smugglers.
At least this’ll give me somethin’ to do, to worry about, other than Bernadine, Donnan thought as he slowly climbed the stairs back to his chambers, his arms heavy with the sack of grain. He stashed the sack in his dressing room and then went reluctantly to bed. But he laid awake for hours, worrying about Camdyn, about Bernadine, but as dawn approached and his eyes finally shut, Donnan relaxed a little, feeling, for the first time since leaving England days ago, like he had a purpose. He would help the lad, get him out of whatever bind he’d gotten himself into. That would occupy him, at least for a little while.
Chapter 30
“Donnan! There ye are. We missed ye in the hall last night. Was a right good session with the whisky. Took down two bottles of the stuff! Good for the soul, I’d say. Can I implore ye to join us tonight? Mayhaps a wee dram might put a smile on that sad mug of yers,” Seamus called from down the corridor, laughing jovially to himself.
Donnan frowned at his friend, who was blocking his path to Camdyn, who had just turned left toward the staircase. He had been following the lad around all day, but so far hadn’t seen him doing anything suspicious or untoward. Donnan was getting tired of traipsing around the castle scurrying after the boy, who seemed to climb endless stairs and walk for miles without any real destination in mind.
Donnan’s muscles were tired and sore as a result of all the walking. It was also past time for supper, and he hadn’t had a moment’s rest or a chance to take in a bit of food all day. But still, he could not afford the distraction of a conversation with his friend, no matter how welcome it might be. He had to keep after the lad.
“Sorry, Seamus. I’m rather busy at the moment, but mayhaps we might go for a ride sometime this week,” he said, gently shoving his friend to the side to keep pace with Camdyn.
Seamus nodded and clapped him on the back as he let Donnan go, thankfully sensing that the man was on a mission.
Donnan hurried down the staircase, looking both ways but finding the hall deserted. He continued down to the ground floor, where he was rewarded with a sight of the lad turning a corner toward his chambers. At this, Donnan stopped, hanging back. It was untoward for a laird to enter his servants’ chambers for anything other than emergencies, and Donnan was not classing this situation as such quite yet.
Instead, he went to the kitchens to take in some much-needed sustenance. From the vantage point of the large table in the middle of the kitchen, he could see the servants’ stairs. He’d know if Camdyn left his chambers for another part of the castle, and in the meantime, he could devour some of the cook’s shortbread.
The old woman had retired for the night and would not know who to blame if Donnan took down a batch or two of her biscuits. They were, after all, one of few pleasures left in his life, and he planned to take full advantage of them.
Half hour and three batches of biscuits later, Donnan heard a creak on the stairs and looked up to find Camdyn creeping down them and toward the castle’s back entrance, his eyes so focused on his trail that he did not see Donnan jump out of his seat and quickly set to following him.
Outside it was a dark, cold and blustery night, the weather feeling far closer to winter than spring. Camdyn practically swayed in the wind, his thin body looking ready to blow away as he walked around the castle. Donnan expected him to go back to the bushes, but rather than turning right, Camdyn kept straight. Eventually Donnan realized they were heading to the beach, which was a good mile and a half away from the castle’s main grounds.
What’s he headin’ to the sea for? Donnan wondered as Camdyn walked toward the shore, kicking up sand with his heels. Donnan thought they were heading for the dunes, but the lad made a sharp right just before they reached them, and suddenly, he understood. The caves. Camdyn was heading for the caves.
Castle Venruit was built on sea rocks, and the beaches that bordered it on one side hid a number of caves. The caves were set back far enough from the beach that they were safe from the rising and falling tides, staying dry no matter the weather outside. Donnan had played in them with Irene as a lad and had fond memories of playing hide and seek in their depths for hours on end. He had not visited them in years.
But while the caves held innocent memories for him, he could well see them being used for nefarious purposes. The beach was deserted for most of the year, the ocean too rough for swimming, the wind too harsh to make walking in the sand enjoyable. The whole area was deserted, much like the bushes at the corner of the castle, making it easy to stash illegal items there without worrying that someone might happen upon them. Whoever planned this smugglin’ operation knew the area very well indeed, Donnan realized.
He watched as Camdyn approached the entrance to the cave and walked through it, bending his head to accommodate the low ceiling. This must be where the bulk of the malt is stored, Donnan realized as he followed behind the lad, stopping at the mouth and turning to its side, where he slid down and made a seat of the sand.
He wanted to crane his head over the side of the wall and have a look inside to make sure it was just himself and the lad. He did not fancy confronting any smugglers, not that night, anyway.
Camdyn was crouched on the ground just inside the cave, kneeling beside a pile of malt sacks that had been stacked all the way to the ceiling. He was checking a written list, his eyes squinting in the dim light that a lantern lit nearby provided.
There was no one else in the cave, just more stacks of malt sacks, another two lanterns, and a few more papers like the one Camdyn was holding in his hands. They were alone, and Donnan was therefore free to confront the lad. Finally. All that effort had not been for nothing, after all.
As he stood up and walked toward Camdyn, Donnan saw his shadow on the wall, growing larger as he approached the lad. He continued walking, his boots making a small scuffing sound on the dry stone. Camdyn looked up and his face paled the moment he took in Donnan’s figure.
“Me Laird?” he whispered, clearly petrified. His knuckles were white as he gripped the paper so tightly Donnan would not be surprised if the thing ripped in two.
“Aye, lad. I’ve been followin’ ye all day, I have. Tryin’ to see what ye ‘re up to. I’ll admit, I dinnae expect ye to be part of an operation of quite this size,” he said, marvelling at the stacks of sacks littered about the cave. The amount of malt stow
ed away was worth a fortune, and Donnan would bet that every grain of it had been stolen.
“I…dinnae ken what ye mean, Me Laird,” Camdyn said, dropping the paper and standing up to his full height. He levelled Donnan with what the lad must have thought was a withering look, but Donnan could see the fear, clear as day, in the boy’s eyes. The lad knew he had been found out.
“Lad, I ken what ye ‘ve been doin’. I saw the sacks of malt in the bushes. I ken that ye ‘ve been smugglin’, or at least helpin’ someone else to do so.”
Camdyn paled, his body tensing, looking ready to run, but Donnan held up his hands, staying the boy. “I’m nae angry at ye, Camdyn. I’m nae out to punish ye or anythin’ of the sort. I ken yer not doin’ this by choice.”
“And how did ye ken that?” Camdyn asked, his voice faint.
“Because I ken ye ‘re a good lad. Ye’ve been a good worker, the best I’ve got, really, and I ken ye ‘ve got a good heart as well. Ye wouldnae get yerself involved in somethin’ like this unless ye had to. So, tell me. What’s led ye to this, lad?” Donnan asked, waving his hands at the sacks all around them.
Camdyn gulped, closing his eyes for a moment before heaving a deep breath. “I have to do this, Me Laird. If I daenae, they’ll kill me family.”
Och, it’s worse than I thought.
Donnan knew he had to stay calm, for the lad’s sake, so he nodded, keeping his face neutral as he asked, “Who, lad? Who’ll kill them?”
It all came tumbling out then. Camdyn spoke so quickly that Donnan struggled at times to understand him, but he didn’t interrupt. He knew Camdyn needed to get this out, had been keeping this secret bottled up inside him for far too long. It was eating at him —Donnan could see that now. The lad was looking more relieved with every word that flew out of his mouth, clearly glad to finally be able to share his secret with someone.
“It’s a man, Me Laird. I dinnae ken his name, but he found me one afternoon while I was out deliverin’ papers to one of yer tenants. He found me and told me that if I dinnae do as he said, he would kill me whole family. I’ve been helpin’ him this last month or so.”
“Aye,” Donnan nodded. “And what does helpin’ him entail?”
“I have to take the sacks from this cave to the castle every few nights,” Camdyn told him. “A ship delivers the sacks here, and I take them to their hidin’ place at the castle, in some prickly shrubs under one of the castle walls. Then merchants come to collect them. I ken it’s wrong, Me Laird. I ken it’s illegal, but I cannae stop. I daenae want my family to die!”
His eyes grew wild as he yelled that last statement, his whole body shaking.
“Calm yerself, lad, calm yerself. There’s no need for shoutin’. Ye’ve done well, tellin’ me all ye have,” Donnan said, reaching out and laying a hand on the lad’s shoulder. He squeezed, smiling slightly when he saw Camdyn relax under the weight of the compliments.
“I can well imagine it’s been eatin’ ye up these last few months, lad. I’m only sorry ye felt ye couldnae tell me sooner,” Donnan said. He known something was amiss with the lad. Camdyn had looked exhausted, on edge, for a good few weeks now. Donnan had meant to check in with him, to sit him down and ask how he was doing, what might be troubling him, but he’d been so preoccupied with Bernadine that there hadn’t seemed the time.
“What shall we do now?” Camdyn asked, looking up suddenly. “This man, he’s bad, Me Laird. Evil, some might call him. I’ve only seen him once, that day in the fields, but I ken it. His men are all cowed, lookin’ afeared for their lives the few times I’ve seen them. And his eyes, they’re lifeless. Gray and lifeless,” Camdyn said, visibly shuddering at the thought of them. “How’re we to fight him, especially when he has my family in his clutches? I dinnae think he’ll hesitate to hurt them if he suspects me of running off.”
“Leave it to me, Camdyn. Leave it to me. I’ll think up a plan that gets ye free of him, and yer family to safety. Give me a day and I’ll ken what to do,” he told the boy, squeezing his shoulder again.
“For now, let’s get back to the castle. You ought to be abed, and I need time to think.”
Camdyn blew out the lantern in the cave, plunging them into darkness. They picked their way carefully back through the sand, past the dunes and onto the path that led to the castle.
As they made their way back up the fields, their home barely visible in the foggy night, Donnan wished that Bernadine were there. His mind, his body, everything, worked so much better when she was around. Nothing seemed nearly so bad when the lass was around, and this smuggling business was very bad indeed.
* * *
“Good morning, madam!” Anne yelled as she opened the curtains of Bernadine’s room in Harrow House the following morning.
“Mmph,” was Bernadine’s response from beneath the nest of pillows and blankets she was currently buried under. She had felt absolutely exhausted since returning to Harrow House with her father days ago. Guinevere had convinced her papa to allow her on “supervised outings” around the park and nearby shops, but Bernadine had been far too tired to partake in any yet. She had spent most of her time either in a chair by the fire or laid out on the settee in the library, alternating between reading and napping.
She had been nauseous, as well, hardly able to keep any food other than broth down, not that she had much interest in meals regardless. What was the point of delicious food, fresh air, all of life’s usual enjoyments, when there was no one to share them with? Or, more accurately, no one like Donnan to share them with?
Bernadine missed him with every breath she took. She felt his loss keenly, more so when she looked at the wedding ring he had slid on her finger that halcyon moment in the chapel when they had pledged their troth to each other. Her father had forbidden her from wearing the wedding band around the house, so Anne had tied it on a ribbon and hung it from Bernadine’s bedpost, where she could gaze at it each morning and evening.
Anne had been doing all sorts of kind things since Bernadine’s return, making up for her absence during Bernadine’s initial imprisonment. Guinevere had convinced Lord Nibley that Bernadine did in fact still need a lady’s maid, a notion he had initially dismissed during when Bernadine had first returned from Scotland.
Anne had resumed her duties with renewed vigor, making great attempts to lift Bernadine’s spirits. Bernadine appreciated it, most of the time. Except when Anne was trying to get her out of bed at what felt like the crack of dawn – then, she didn’t appreciate the maid’s presence in her life quite as much.
“Madam!” Anne called again, having switched how she addressed Bernadine since her clandestine marriage. “Madame” was for married women, which, though Bernadine did not often feel like it, she supposed she was. “If you do not get up now, you will sleep the whole day away! Like some sort of invalid!”
“What is so bad about that?” Bernadine grumbled as she reluctantly sat up, rearranging her pillows to support her back.
“Is something wrong, madam? I have never seen you so tired. You worry me!” Anne exclaimed. “If I did not know better, I would say you are with child!” she added, laughing as she brought Bernadine’s breakfast tray to her bedside.
Anne continued chattering as she poured Bernadine’s tea and buttered her toast, but Bernadine did not hear her maid. Her mind was stuck on two words. “With child.”
Oh God. She’s right, she suddenly realized, looking down at her belly. She laid her hand there, and though she was sure she was imagining it, she could swear she felt a roundness there that had not been present a month ago.
Bernadine wracked her brain, trying to remember the last time she had had her monthly courses.
Not for some time, she realized. She hadn’t had her monthly courses since she and Donnan started making love, over a month and a half ago. In all the dramatics of the last few weeks, Bernadine hadn’t noticed the absence of the annoying womanly event, until now.
No wonder I’ve been so ill, so tired and nauseous. I’
m with child!
She felt so stupid for not realizing it earlier. She had known such things could happen after women and men shared a bed, but she hadn’t expected it to happen to her quite so soon.
What am I going to do?
“Madame?” Anne asked, and Bernadine looked up to find her maid staring at her expectantly, a teacup in one hand, a plate of toast in the other. “Are you well? You looked lost in thought for a moment. Would you still like your breakfast?”
“Yes! Fine!” Bernadine said, removing her hand from her stomach and plastering a smile on her face as she accepted her breakfast. Bernadine tucked in, though her stomach was sour and the sight of the buttered toast with jam nearly made her heave. She gulped down her tea and bit at the edges of the bread, avoiding the sickeningly sweet preserves. She hadn’t been able to stomach sweets for some days, she now realized.
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