“Oh, Joshua, a picnic?”
“Mrs. Motley arranged it when I told her my plan for the day. I daresay we’ll enjoy a right good meal.” He wrinkled his nose suddenly.
Watching him, Adriana decided with relief that perhaps the odor she had detected was not a normal one. She had been trying very hard to pretend a casual attitude, but now she felt confident enough to ask him what it was.
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but it certainly isn’t brass polish. Curry, what on earth have you been hauling aboard my boat? Smells like spoilt fish.”
The captain shrugged and answered glibly. “As you say, m’lord. The lads found a couple in the hold. Must have been overlooked after you had them gentlemen out fishing several weeks ago. We’ve throwed ’em out and washed ’er down, but the scent does want t’ linger, beggin’ yer pardon fer the inconvenience.”
Chalford regarded his captain searchingly. “A couple of dead fish, Curry?”
“Aye, sir.” Curry gazed back at him, all innocence.
Shaking his head but declining to pursue the matter, Chalford turned the subject to their course for the day, and by the time the crew had come topside to unfurl the sails, Adriana had forgotten the incident altogether. Once they were outside the harbor on the rolling waves of the Channel, with the wind behind them, the smell disappeared and she thought of nothing but enjoying the new and quite marvelous sensations of sailing.
“It’s wonderful, Joshua,” she said when he joined her at the rail, where she was looking down at the water, watching it rush past the sides of the boat. “Look how the ship makes its own waves at it goes. Oh, it’s beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like her.” He put one arm around her shoulders and, with his other hand, turned her face so that he could look deep into her eyes. “She’s a special lady,” he said, his voice low in his throat. “I promise you, sweetheart, the Sea Dragon is the cleverest, finest yacht on the south coast.”
She looked back at him. Her heart was beating faster than usual, but she kept her expression carefully guileless. “I am entirely convinced, my lord, that she is much, much nicer than poor Mr. Braverstoke’s Golden Fleece.”
“Baggage.” He grinned at her, then, staring out to sea again, added ruefully, “I am persuaded that you would find someone to flirt with in a cavern ten miles underground, my sweet, but I could wish you might choose someone other than Randall Braverstoke to work your wiles upon.”
“I think him charming,” she said sweetly. “His papa, too. I scarcely remember the other local people I’ve met, but surely there have been no other men of title. Your Aunt Adelaide, at least, would approve of my favoring the Braverstokes.”
“Well, you’re out there,” he retorted. “Aunt Adelaide has no great opinion of Braverstoke’s title, which is a life peerage only, and considers them both to be a pair of upstart newcomers.”
“Goodness, I am persuaded that Mr. Braverstoke said they had lived in Kent for years.”
“Yes, fifteen to be exact. Upstart newcomers, as I said.”
She laughed. “Well, I suppose that to a family that has been here for seven hundred years, fifteen is like nothing. I daresay we treat people the same in Wiltshire, come to think of it. Papa still calls Viscount Ulster ‘that damned new fellow’ whenever he mentions him, and I am certain that Ulster must be nearly as old as Papa and has lived at Great Trowley Manor since before I was born. Still he is the first of his family to live on the banks of the Avon, and that is all that counts to Papa.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Dear me, I have just had the most fantastical notion. Do you think that perhaps Papa and your Aunt-Adelaide are peas out of the same pod?”
Chalford laughed. “I believe she would applaud such stuff as his attitude toward the unfortunate Viscount Ulster, but it would be as well for both of us—and for Wryde, too—if she never discovers his affinity for gaming and old port.”
Adriana shuddered as her vivid imagination presented her with a picture of Lady Adelaide coming upon the Earl of Wryde while the latter was in his cups, but just then her eye was caught by a sail on the distant horizon. She called Chalford’s attention to it. “Is … is it a French ship, sir?”
“No, sweetheart, just an ordinary trawler. You really mustn’t heed Aunt Hetta’s megrims. I promise you, we are quite safe from the French. They don’t sail this near our coast, for one thing, and if you will remember the tale you heard yesterday, they made no attempt to engage our ships. Rather the reverse, if Braverstoke’s story is true, and we’ve no reason to doubt him.”
She relaxed again, giving herself up to the view and the exhilaration of the yacht’s movement on the water. The experience was everything she had ever thought it would be, and more. The gentle rocking of the little vessel was hypnotic, the sound of the water against the prow stimulating, and the crackle and snap of the rigging above stirred her imagination. Even the smell of the sea and the cries of the gulls overhead seemed different from this new vantage point. It appeared to be no time at all before Chalford informed her that he was starving and hoped she was ready to investigate Mrs. Motley’s picnic basket.
Accordingly, she followed him below, down a cunning ladder to a narrow, hot, and shockingly malodorous companionway that was lit brightly at their end and dimly at the other by the sunlight pouring through the hatch. At the far end of the companionway was a carved door, which opened into a neat little cabin where a linen-draped table had been set out for their meal.
“Here we are, sweetheart. I’m sorry that fishy smell is so strong down here, but I daresay we’ll cease to notice it after a few moments. Cozy little place, is it not?”
Adriana had stopped on the threshold and was covering her face with her lacy handkerchief. “Joshua, I can’t. I’m sorry, but I just cannot eat a thing.” And with that, she turned and hurried back toward the ladder, steadying herself with her free hand against the bulkhead as she went, holding her breath, hoping that if she could block out the dreadful smell, she would make it back to the fresh air without disgracing herself.
She felt his strong hands at her sides before she realized he had followed her, but since he was helping rather than hindering, she made no protest when he boosted her up the ladder and she soon found herself in the open air again, gasping with relief.
“Queasiness takes some people like that,” he said after she had obeyed his command to sit down, bend over, and breathe deeply. “They can be as fresh as a daisy abovedeck and sick as a horse when they go below. Probably no more than a reaction to feeling confined. You’ll get over the tendency in time.”
“It was no such thing,” she said tartly, glaring up at him without raising her head. “It was that awful dead-fish smell. I can’t think why it didn’t make you ill, too.”
“Well,” he said with an apologetic smile, “I’ve got a strong stomach, so I daresay I paid it little heed. Are you all right?”
“Yes, of course, and I’m hungry, too, but I simply cannot eat down there with that stench.”
“Then we shall have our picnic on deck,” he said. “Far better to have a picnic in the open air anyway. I cannot think what possessed me to have them lay it out in the cabin.” But then he winked at her, and she laughed, able to guess immediately what his motives had been.
“You can forget that notion this instant, sir,” she said with mock sternness, straightening. “If I cannot eat in such an atmosphere, I can promise you I would also be unable to—”
“My lady,” he exclaimed, clapping a hand to his chest in affected shock, “spare me my blushes, if you please!”
She chuckled. “I don’t believe you know how to blush, sir.”
He appeared to consider the accusation soberly for a long moment, then shook his head. “I doubt I ever did know how. You will have to teach me, sweetheart. There must be any number of little things you could say or do to make me blush if you but put your mind to the matter. Ah, yes,” he added, his lips twitching as he watched the color flood her cheeks, “you have the knack. I daresa
y you will prove to be an excellent teacher.”
“I wish,” she said, carefully avoiding his gaze, “that I had known I would have need of my parasol today.”
“Is the sun too bright?” he demanded instantly. “I can have them rig a sail over the table if that will help.”
“The parasol is not needed to protect me from the sun, sir,” she said, giving him a straight look at last, “but rather from the brilliance of a shamelessly impudent husband.”
“Oh, not shamelessly.” His eyes danced.
“Shamelessly,” she repeated firmly.
“Then I am to take it you want your parasol in order to rap my knuckles, madam?”
“Rather to break it over your head,” she said, adding as a second thought, “or perhaps to wrap it around your neck. Indeed, I will give you lessons, sir, if you do not mind your tongue.”
He laughed. “I’ve married a tartar, sure enough, but before we consider the subject of my lessons more thoroughly, sweetheart, what say you to having our picnic?”
She nodded, completely in harmony with him and pleased with herself for having made him laugh. Feeling fully recovered now from her brief indisposition, she watched with a smile as Joshua, shouting for one of the lads to follow him, plunged down the companionway ladder again. Not long after that, their table, complete with linen drapery, was set up on the afterdeck.
“Sail well into the wind, Curry!” Joshua shouted. “If you blow my meal into my lap or overboard, I’ll have your head!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Curry shouted back.
There was silence while they served themselves, but when Adriana looked up after making room on her plate for a cold chicken leg, Joshua was frowning thoughtfully.
“What is it, sir?”
“Curry,” he said shortly. “The more I think about what he said before, the less I like it. I’ll speak with him after we’ve eaten. I know he lied before, because it’s been two months since I last had anyone out fishing, but I assumed that the lads had taken her out. Though they didn’t ask my permission, I don’t much object because the fish they catch are cheaper than what they must buy to feed their families. But if the stench down there comes from no more than a couple of dead fish inadvertently overlooked in the hold, I’m a Dutchman.”
Accordingly, once they had finished their meal, Adriana found herself alone on the afterdeck, watching while he spoke with his captain. She could not hear what they said, but she could tell from their expressions that Joshua was being quietly stern and Curry innocently defensive. Suddenly, the captain, shaking his head in agitated denial and gesturing rapidly, began talking more incisively. Joshua listened, then spoke briefly. A few moments after that, he rejoined Adriana.
“Had to threaten to dismiss him before I got anywhere,” he said grimly, “but once he realized he was doing himself no good by playing at this charade, he told me the whole quick enough.”
“Well?”
“Seems my Sea Dragon has become a smuggling ship.”
“What?” Excitement gleamed in her eyes at the thought of actually being on a boat used by free traders.
Reading her expression without difficulty, Joshua’s lips twisted in wry amusement. He said, “According to Curry, one of the incoming vessels ran into that French flotilla Tuesday on their way across and was mistaken for an English ship. Took a broadside before they were able to raise the Dutch flag, and the ship was sadly disabled. Knowing they couldn’t make England or Holland with a full load, they waited only until they were out of sight of the other ships before divesting themselves of their cargo. Word came to our local lads yesterday, and they set out in whatever vessels they could commandeer to collect the goods.”
“But didn’t everything sink?”
“No, of course not. The wines and spirits are shipped in small kegs that float excellently well, and the tea and other goods are well-wrapped in oilskin packets that are also designed to float. No doubt some was lost, but our lads, having equipped themselves with fishing nets, hauled in a good share of the contraband. Whenever they came upon a school of sprats, it seems they employed the nets for their regular purpose, strewing the catch in the sun; and, being small, the things spoil quickly. By the time they encountered a cutter, it was evening, and the Sea Dragon appeared to be filled with stinking sprats. Curry said the agents declined to approach the fish at all, fortunately, since the contraband was underneath. I suppose I’d rather they think me a fool for allowing my men to use my boat as a fishing vessel than believe me in league with the free traders.”
“Good gracious, what would have happened if the agents had found the goods?”
“I’d have found it damned difficult to prove that my boat had been used without my knowledge or permission.”
“What will you do about it now?”
“I have forbidden Curry to take part in such an expedition again,” he said. “I believe he will obey me.”
“But how can you keep such a man on as your captain, Joshua? Surely you cannot trust him again.”
“Nonsense, if I stopped trusting everyone who was involved in smuggling hereabouts, there would be no one left to trust.”
“You mean everyone does it?”
“As near as makes no difference. Kent has the highest ratio of persons on the parish of any county in England.”
“You mean they get involved in free trading because they cannot otherwise afford to live?”
“Not at all. There are any number of jobs available, but none that pays so well. A man may make from half a guinea to a guinea for a single night hauling goods. He’s lucky to make ten shillings a week doing honest labor, and he generally cannot do both. After a night of hauling brandy kegs, he can’t stay awake all day to perform the duties of a normal job. He goes on the parish as much to make himself appear to be respectable as to augment his income while he waits for the next run.”
“It seems a dreadfully hazardous way to make a living to me,” Adriana said. “They must always travel in the dark of night through untraveled, twisting byways, and surely not everyone favors the Gentlemen, even here in Kent.”
“Of course not. There are revenue cutters, patrols, and riding officers to be avoided, and from time to time, rival gangs from other areas attempt to infringe upon a local gang’s territory. But money isn’t the only reward either. The master smugglers—those are the men behind the gangs—not only pay each man for each journey he makes, but also bear all the expenses of eating and drinking for both the man and his horse, if he has one. Each man is also made an allowance of half a sack of tea, the profit from which is equal to more than a guinea. Since they can often count on making as many as three trips in a week, the temptation is such that few men hereabouts can withstand it.” He got to his feet and stretched out a hand to her. “Come to the rail. You can see Dover Castle from here.”
The white cliffs were magnificent, and the ruins of the ancient castle no less so. Chalford pointed out other interesting landmarks along the way, and the captain even let her take the helm for a few thrilling minutes before the afternoon was done. By the time they returned to Thunderhill, Adriana had discovered in herself an undeniable pleasure to be derived from her husband’s companionship, a desire to learn much more about the free traders, and a veritable passion for sailing.
“Never will I get enough of the sea,” she told Nancy, who was stirring up the fire when she returned to her bedchamber.
“You get out of them clothes, Miss Adrie,” her tirewoman ordered briskly. “Damp as duck feathers they be, and you chilled to the bone, like as not. If you mean to do this ridiculous sort of thing again, you must have some decent, warm clothes made for the purpose, and that’s all there is about it.”
“I will,” Adriana promised her, moving to warm herself by the energetic, crackling fire. “The air turned dreadfully cold before we returned, and I didn’t tell Chalford I was chilly because I didn’t wish to give him the satisfaction of saying he had warned me. But, oh, this fire feels welcome now. Bring my
gown in here, if you please. I’ll dress by the hearth.”
Nancy nodded, departed, and returned again, carrying the dark-green velvet gown. “You didn’t say what to bring, Miss Adrie, but I’ll hear no argle-bargle. This be the warmest dress you own, so this is what you will wear. Now, why in the name of all the saints have you not begun to take off that muslin?”
Adriana chuckled. “I managed the pelisse well enough, but I can’t reach the buttons on this dress without squirming, and every time I squirm, a cold part of it touches me in a new place. I decided to wait for you.”
“Foolishness,” declared Nancy. “Going out upon that treacherous water, where no decent Englishwoman ought to go, and thinking you’ve done something wonderful when all ye’ve done is get yourself frozen to the marrow. Turn around now and let me see to them buttons. What will you be doing next?”
As much to shock her as to turn the subject, Adriana said demurely, “Well, perhaps I shall go a-smuggling.”
“What? You’ll never. Smuggling, indeed. I’ll wager his lordship would have something to say about that.”
“Well, he might, but only because I am his wife, I daresay. He certainly didn’t make much of a fuss when he discovered that his yacht had been used to aid the free traders.” She looked expectantly at Nancy, anticipating her reaction.
It was all she had hoped for. The brisk little abigail’s mouth dropped open and her hands clutched at the velvet gown she had been about to fling over Adriana’s head. “His own boat? Who would dare to do such a thing?”
“My gown, if you please,” Adriana said, shivering. She pulled the green velvet down and smoothed it over her hips before she continued airily, “Evidently, anyone who needs a vessel simply commandeers one. This time a cargo had been dumped at sea after the smuggling ship was fired upon by those French ships we saw the other day. The men from Romney Marsh took Chalford’s boat to recover their share of the contraband from the sea.” She went on to tell about the sprats, and when she had finished, Nancy clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Amanda Scott Page 11
