I frowned at his back as he crossed the room, uncertain what he’d meant about my being Jack’s girl. Had Jack told him that, perhaps in warning?
Captain Haywood bent over to seize a cloth covering what appeared to be a low table next to his bunk. When he whisked back the material, I could see it was actually a large trunk. He dragged it away from the corner and propped open the lid.
I moved closer, my eyes widening at the array of fabrics inside—shimmering silks in shades of blue and pink and gold; the finest Indian cotton in snowy white; and delicate lengths of French needle lace. As I knelt to examine the contents more closely, the captain moved towards the opposite corner, returning with another smaller chest. He lowered it for me to see inside and I actually gasped. There was almost a dozen gems nestled within, each one probably worth more than our cottage.
And I was supposed to line the hidden pockets sewn inside my gown with them and simply waltz past the revenue men. I was nearly sick all over the trunk full of expensive fabrics.
I inhaled a steadying breath. “Is this everything, then?”
“Aye.”
“Then if you’ll allow me a bit of privacy—”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
I blinked up at him. “But…I’m to conceal these items under my clothing.”
“Aye. I surmised as much.”
I frowned. “Which means…well…” My cheeks began to heat, unaccustomed to saying such words in front of a man. I’d been taught that there were certain words, certain topics that a lady did not dare address in front of the opposite sex, including the act of disrobing. I swallowed. “That means I’ll…I’ll have to remove them.” Some of my embarrassment swiftly turned to anger as I witnessed how much he was enjoying my discomfort.
“Does it? Well, that’s my luck, then.”
“I’m not going to undress in front of you,” I snapped.
He reclined on the bench I had recently vacated, leaning to the side to prop himself up with his elbow. “And what makes ye think ye have any say in the matter?” His head sank back against the wall behind him as he watched me grapple with this bit of news.
I was tempted to turn and stomp out the door, but then what would become of the silk and jewels? I suspected the bag I’d delivered had contained at least a partial payment for the goods. If I abandoned those items here he might very well decide to resell them elsewhere. What would Jack and the others do if I returned empty-handed? What would Himself do?
Whatever it was, I suspected it would be far worse than letting Captain Haywood view me in my chemise and corset.
Suppressing the urge to shriek at him—he would only like that too much—I set my bonnet aside and began to unbutton my pelisse.
“Ye let me know if ye need any help wi’ that,” he murmured cheekily.
I glared at him, but that only seemed to amuse him more. After draping my pelisse over a chair, I turned my back to him and set about unfastening my dress. I pulled the ends of the ribbon sash wrapped around the high waist of my gown, just below my bosom, with a sharp tug. “I wonder what Jack will think of your refusal to give me any privacy,” I muttered over my shoulder, not above using his name in such a manner since Captain Haywood had already linked us together.
“Oh, ol’ Saucy Jack wouldn’t begrudge me such a lovely sight. Not when he knows I’ve been at sea for more than a fortnight, what with the Waterguard increasin’ their patrols.”
I scowled, uncomfortable with the possibility that the two men knew each other so well. But what had I expected? They were both smugglers, obviously working in tandem. Perhaps they came from different backgrounds, though neither man seemed as rough as they pretended to be, but that didn’t mean they weren’t friends.
I paused after slipping the last button at the top of my back from its hole, feeling color begin to flood my cheeks again. No man had ever seen me in a state of undress, at least not since I was too young to remember, and the indignity of allowing such a rascal to do so now infuriated me. I latched onto that anger, anything that would help me forget some of my humiliation and discomfort. Then with one swift motion, I pulled the dress over my head.
I bent over and quickly gathered up some of the costly fabric, winding it around me. The silk was cool against my heated skin, and more slippery than I’d anticipated. It took a great deal of tugging and tucking, and the creative use of some satin ribbon I found at the bottom of the trunk to make it stay in place. After all, I couldn’t have layers sliding off my body to pool at my feet as I made my way back across Yarmouth to the river.
And all the while Captain Haywood sat back watching me with a smirk on his face. I was relieved when he made no move to approach me until I pulled my gown back over my head. While I filled the pockets sewn inside my dress with lace, a few pairs of finely-worked leather gloves, and the remaining ribbon, he tucked the gems into a velvet pouch before passing them to me. Then he lifted a pair of bottles from the bottom of the small chest and wrapped them in a small handkerchief.
“The finest French perfume,” he explained with a sardonic twist in his voice.
I slid the bottles into the pocket on my left side, thinking they would not shift as awkwardly if they rested against my torso above my hip. I reached for my bonnet, deciding to pack the bag of jewels in the tall crown along with the last lace-edged shawl, but the captain was not finished. He knelt to remove one last parcel from under his thin mattress. I glanced up at him in question as he passed it to me.
His eyes gleamed. “A special order.”
I frowned at his vague response, pressing it between my fingers. It was flat like a book and wrapped carefully in oilskin. I’d never heard of anyone smuggling in works of literature, but I supposed if a book was rare or perhaps even banned, and someone was willing to pay the right price, anything was possible.
“Is there a problem?” Captain Haywood asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“No. I was just trying to figure out which pocket it would be best to stow it in.”
He watched as I slid the packet in place, and then directed me to turn around. I hesitated, not certain of his intentions, and he huffed, grabbing me by the shoulders to spin me about himself. I stiffened as I felt his fingers deftly button up my gown, wondering if I should protest. But the truth was it had been difficult enough to unfasten my dress myself. I could only imagine how much worse it would be now that the frock was much more fitted. He tied off the ribbon at the high waist and I hastily stepped away, reaching back to be sure he had not made a hash of it.
When I was certain the bow was even, I pulled on my pelisse, which now fit quite snug around my frame. Once my bonnet and its hidden contents were secure on my head, I turned to face the captain.
He eyed me critically from head to toe. “Well, ye’ve gained a stone or two.” His head tilted to the side. “Which wouldn’t be amiss. Ye’re as scrawny as a bird. But so long as no preventives were payin’ ye much mind, they shouldn’t notice.”
I swallowed and nodded, smoothing a nervous hand down my bodice.
He offered me his arm and we exited his cabin, climbing the shadowed staircase up toward the deck. I lifted a hand to shield my eyes from the sudden glare of the sun.
“Tell Jack I says to buy ye a box of sweetmeats for once instead of whatever fripperies he’s given ye,” the captain leaned down to murmur in my ear.
His gruff comment surprised a smile out of me, even though I strongly suspected he’d just insinuated I was a kept woman. “Jack does not buy me things.” Except bonnets. But that was one time, and only because it had been needed for this task. “And he certainly doesn’t feed me.”
“Hmm. Well, he should.”
I shook my head at the absurdity of his motherly chiding.
The crew stood in more or less the same positions as earlier when we’d gone below deck, as if waiting for us to return. From their curious expressions I could tell they wondered just what had occurred between us, but none of them dared to ask.
/> “Is her skiff still waitin’ below?” the captain asked the man who directed my ascent.
“Aye, sir.”
Captain Haywood’s gaze swept up and down me again. “Make a sling for my sister this time.” He flashed his teeth in a sly grin. “There’s no need for her to risk the wind blowin’ up her skirts.”
And revealing everything I had concealed underneath.
“Thank you, brother dear,” I told him with a strained smile as the men set to work.
“’Til next time,” he declared, turning on his heel and walking away.
I didn’t say I hoped there wouldn’t be a next time, but I couldn’t help thinking it. Though the captain seemed to divine my thoughts anyway, if the cheeky smirk he cast back over his shoulder was any indication.
Chapter 23
I
n short order, the crew had me settled in a rather precarious sling fashioned out of ropes and canvas and began to lower me over the side. I grasped the rope above me tightly, uncertain this was a better option than the looped rope that had pulled me on board. Yes, my skirts didn’t threaten to fly up over my face, but my body was tipped at an odd angle, making me terrified I would fall backward out of the contrivance.
When finally Crisp captured the sling and tipped me forward so that my feet touched the skiff’s deck, my arms were ready to give out from the strain. I sank down on the bench and pressed my hands to my torso, anxious to feel if all the fabric had stayed in place. Mick leaned forward, puffing on his pipe much as he had when I met him at the pier barely an hour earlier.
Could that really be true? It seemed like at least half a day had passed, but when I glanced at the watch pinned to my pelisse I could see I was correct. I had more than an hour left before Jack and the others would return for me at the river quay.
“Did ye find what ye were lookin’ for?” Mick asked with far too shrewd a look in his eyes.
I lifted my chin. “My brother? Yes.”
“Oh, aye. Yer brother.”
I decided the best course would be to disregard him, and turned to stare out over the water as Mick and Crisp began to row me toward shore. I didn’t glance back at the Reliance, even to see if Captain Haywood was watching our departure. I didn’t want to know.
As we neared land I could see the pier was busier than when we had set out. At least half a dozen more boats were docked there, and several small wherries seemed to be unloading cargo. The sight set a trickle of unease down my spine, for if there was cargo then surely there would be revenue men about to inspect it.
I spotted one or two men examining the tubs and bales being stacked on the deck. They shouldn’t be a problem. The trio standing about chatting, however, were not so easily dismissed. Of course, I couldn’t be sure they were customs officers. Not from this distance. But something in the way they conducted themselves, the too-casual way they watched those around them, told me they were.
I inhaled and exhaled slowly, in and out, just as Jack had taught me, and tried to show them little interest. They were just another group of men gathered on the pier, and of no concern to me. But as we bobbed closer, I saw the flash of one of their collar badges, letting me know I had been correct.
Regrettably, Mick and Crisp chose to dock their boat and tie it up just a few feet from where these men stood. Whether this had been done purposely, I didn’t know, but Mick appeared particularly pleased with himself. Crisp leapt from the boat to secure the line, sending the tiny vessel rocking, and I gripped the sides to steady myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the revenue men’s gaze pass over us and then return. I prayed this was because I was a woman and not because I’d already given myself away. I forced myself not to hurry as I extracted Mick’s payment from my reticule.
“Pleasure doin’ business with ye, Mrs. Warnes,” Mick said, placing a bit too much emphasis on my name.
I smiled tightly and then rose to my feet to take Crisp’s proffered hand. But at that moment further up the pier some cargo slipped out of the hands of one of the crews and crashed down onto the dock, rattling it. Crisp’s attention wavered for only a moment, but it was long enough for me to trip and nearly stumble to my knees. Had I not been wound up tightly in silks and India cotton it might not have even happened, but my movements were so restricted I couldn’t rotate or extend my limbs as far as normal. To my horror, one of the revenue men had seen my fumble and when I recovered my footing and looked up it was to find him clutching my elbow.
“Watch what ye’re doin’, lad,” he scolded Crisp, before turning to me. “Are ye all right, miss?”
“Yes,” I gasped, pulling my arm away once I’d regained my balance. I began to smooth out my pelisse, and then thought better of it. “Thank you.”
The revenue man grinned, flashing a deep set of dimples, and tipped his hat. “My pleasure, miss.”
I nodded and turned to go.
“Do you require any assistance?” he called after me.
I glanced back at him with a smile I hoped didn’t appear forced. “No, thank you.”
“Are you certain?”
I slowed my steps and turned to face him, not wanting it to appear as if I were running away.
“Maybe ye’d let me buy ye a drink at the Wrestler’s Inn. It’s not far.” His eyebrows lifted hopefully.
I looked over his shoulder to see his fellow revenue men watching us with their heads bent together in conference. I tightened my grasp on my reticule, telling myself to remain calm. They didn’t suspect anything. Not yet, anyway. This man was just interested in a pretty face under a pretty bonnet. He couldn’t know there was a fortune in gems tucked up underneath.
“I’m a missus, actually,” I told him in a soft voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t correct you before. It just seemed…unnecessary.”
His grin turned rueful. “I shoulda known. The comeliest ones are always taken.”
I dipped my head coyly at his compliment, hoping that was the appropriate response.
He bobbed his head toward the sea. “I s’pose ye were visitin’ yer husband on one of those ships.”
“My brother, actually,” I replied, following Jack’s instructions to keep to the same story if at all possible, lest I get confused and be caught in a lie. Even so, I could see the curiosity blossoming behind the revenue man’s eyes, and I knew that was dangerous.
“I’m afraid he’s always been a bit…wayward,” I confided in him, hoping it would stop him from asking the types of questions I wished to avoid. “I’m not really supposed to have any contact with him, but…” I shrugged one shoulder, appealing to him to understand “…he is my brother.
He nodded. “I’ve a brother much like that meself. He’s a heap o’ trouble, but like ye said, he’s family.”
I smiled gratefully, even as I felt a bead of sweat run down my back beneath all of the layers of fabric. Now that I was back on shore, the midday sun beat down warm on my skin, without the benefit of the open sea breeze to cool it. My cheeks felt a bit flushed and I began to worry that if I stood there much longer the revenue man might begin to wonder why I did not remove my pelisse.
“I should be on my way,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t offer to escort me or fetch a hansom cab.
“Of course,” he replied, tipping his hat to me once again. “Good day, ma’am.”
“Good day.”
I carefully made my way down the pier before turning right on the street that led into Yarmouth. I didn’t look back for fear he was watching to see if I did.
When I was certain no one was following me, I turned my steps inland, weaving my way through the streets back toward the shops and market. If anyone had noted my presence on the quay earlier I wanted them to see me return from the same direction.
Unhappily, with the exertion of my walk the heat only increased. Sweat had begun to gather in all sorts of unpleasant places, and I began to fret it would ruin the silk. I seriously considered removing my pelisse, but I knew the lumps and bumps of my dress line padded with contraba
nd would not survive close scrutiny. So I trudged on in misery, praying my undergarments were thick enough to absorb any damaging moisture.
When at last I reached the market I noted I had another half hour to wait, but the thought of doing so seemed unbearable. Maybe Jack and the others would return early. Please, let it be so.
I retraced my steps from earlier in the day and emerged on the quay, sighing as I felt at least the semblance of a breeze touch my cheeks. I wandered toward the spot where Jack had let me off, but the wherry was not docked there. I glanced about me for a bench or a post to sit on, hoping I simply looked like a woman weary from shopping. A packet of parcels sat near the edge of the quay, presumably my numerous purchases made that day. Jack had told me the boxes would be there when they returned to collect me—all part of our ruse—but I didn’t know what, if anything, was stored inside each package.
I’d given up on finding a place to perch, and was seriously considering turning myself in to the Customs House if they would but offer me a cool glass of water, when I spotted Jack. He stood at the prow of the wherry boat as it sliced across the river toward me. Overcome with relief, I nearly collapsed, but then I straightened my spine for fear that another revenue man might insist on rendering me assistance.
Mercifully, Jack seemed to take in the situation at one glance. He ordered Rory and Dibs to load the parcels while he offered me a hand up onto the boat, seating me under the thin slice of shade the sail provided. Before I’d even begun to recover my breath, we were pushing away from the quay.
As Harry turned the boat upriver, Jack returned with a bottle of pale liquid and a cup. I drained the glass of sweet lemonade, uncaring how unladylike I looked, and then held it out to him for more. He obliged and I settled back to sip this serving more slowly.
At first Jack did not speak, though I knew he must have dozens of questions. Instead, he sat beside me and let me savor the cool lemonade and the wind billowing the sails. When at last he did talk, it was out of concern for me.
“We’re far enough from shore now if you wish to remove your pelisse.”
Secrets in the Mist Page 22
