Sir Ashley's Mettlesome Match

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Oooh!’ The cry was forced from her as she lost her footing and found herself slipping sideways into a water-filled creek. The coldness of it took her breath away and she floundered helplessly, trying to find her feet. The next minute she was grabbed about her waist from behind and hauled out. Her rescuer set her on her feet on firm ground, but he did not let go of her. She was shivering uncontrollably and it felt comfortingly warm against his broad chest.

  ‘Little fool!’ he murmured.

  She knew the voice and twisted her head round to see Sir Ashley Saunders looking down at her. Had he recognised her? She had not seen him among the men, but that was not surprising; he was dressed in the rough clothes of a labourer. Spying, she presumed, but she could hardly condemn him for doing something she had been doing herself. ‘I thank you for your timely rescue, sir,’ she said, trying to sound masculine, but failing miserably on account of her chattering teeth.

  If he was surprised to discover who it was he had rescued he gave no sign of it. ‘My pleasure and privilege, Miss Kingslake,’ he said, still holding her close, though she was soaking the front of his coat. She felt his warm breath on the back of her neck and it was enough to send trickles of heat down her spine, right down into her frozen toes. It did nothing to stop her shaking. Quite the opposite.

  ‘You knew…’

  ‘Of course. Slim young men do not usually have curves where you undoubtedly have them. And very delectable they are, too. But let us not waste time in idle chatter—you must go home and into the warm. Explanations can wait.’ As he spoke he turned her round and slipping off his coat, put it round her shoulders, then he held it there, drawing her against his side while he guided her steps to higher ground. Neither spoke.

  Pippa’s shoes were full of water and her head full of questions. What was he doing out on the marshes when the land smugglers were busy? Why had he come alone instead of being supported by dragoons and Revenue men? And how could she explain away her own presence? Did she need to? Was it any of his business? And why, oh, why did the feel of his arms about her, have such a devastating effect on her body? It was not only the cold making her shake.

  They reached Windward House and went round to the kitchen door, which she had left unbolted against her return. They stood on the step, facing each other. The air was fraught with tension, with unanswered questions and the realisation of the sheer absurdity of their situation. Knowing her aunt and everyone else were in their beds she could not invite him in and yet it seemed churlish to dismiss him out of hand. She took off his coat and handed it to him. ‘Thank you for your escort, Sir Ashley. You had better put this on, you must be very cold.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed, smiling and slipping it on. ‘And so must you. I suggest you go in and strip off those wet clothes before you catch your death of cold. I would not like to be held responsible for your demise. Go to bed. We have an early start in the morning.’

  ‘You are still going to take us, then?’

  ‘Of course. I do not go back on my word.’

  ‘I will say goodnight, then.’

  ‘Good morning would be more appropriate. It is past mid night.’

  ‘Is it? How time flies.’

  He laughed and, turning her about, opened the door with one hand and gave her a gentle push with the other. ‘Much as I would like to prolong this delightful encounter, I must insist you go in and go to bed. I will return at eight o’clock and we shall see if you are well enough to go to Norwich.’

  The next minute she was standing in the kitchen, lit only by the dying embers of the fire, and the door had been shut behind her. She heard his footsteps as he strode away and then she began to shiver so violently she could hardly light the candle she needed to see her to her bed. She needed something to warm her. She thrust a poker into the embers of the fire, filled a cup with wine and held the poker in it for several seconds. Then she drank the hot liquid down in one long gulp. She felt its warmth course its way down her throat and into her stomach and rather unsteadily climbed the stairs to her room, where she flung off Nat’s clothes and climbed into bed. It took a little time, but the shivering ceased at last and she slept, her dreams filled with near-drownings and strong warm arms engulfing her.

  It was her aunt’s exclamation of dismay that woke her next morning. ‘Philippa, whatever has happened? Has Nathaniel come home?’

  Pippa opened one sleepy eye to see her aunt, fully dressed, surveying the heap of soaking wet clothes flung all over the floor. Reluctantly she sat up. ‘No, I borrowed his clothes to go out looking for him.’

  ‘Philippa!’ Augusta was aghast. ‘Is there no end to your foolishness? One of these days you will come to a bad end. Why are they so wet? I was not aware that it had rained.’

  ‘It did not. I fell into a stream. Sir Ashley rescued me.’

  ‘Sir Ashley,’ her aunt repeated, as if unable to believe her ears. ‘What was he doing out in the middle of the night? Did you arrange to meet him?’

  ‘Certainly not. He was out spying on the smugglers. They were moving the cargo.’

  The good lady sank onto the bed and stared at her niece in disbelief. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Nothing. He brought me home and I came to bed.’

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘Yes. What did you expect, that I would bring him in for a night of unbridled passion?’

  ‘Do not be vulgar, Philippa. I meant if you were in Nathaniel’s clothes, did he recognise you?’

  ‘Of course he knew it was me. He wasn’t fooled by my disguise for a moment.’

  ‘Heaven help us! You will give him a disgust of you and he will cease to assist us over Ben. I wish you would think of the consequences when you do these hoydenish things.’

  ‘On the contrary, I think it amused him. And he said he would be here at eight o’clock, ready to go to Norwich, so if you will get off the bed, dear Aunt, I will dress.’

  Augusta stood up. ‘I am not sure you should come. You would do better to stay in bed today to get over your ordeal. I will make your excuses.’

  ‘If you think you are going to leave me behind, you are mistaken, Aunt. I do not need to get over my ordeal because it was not an ordeal, but a slight mishap from which I have fully recovered. Now off with you. I shall be down directly.’

  Her aunt sighed and left. Pippa scrambled into a padded petticoat and warm wool overskirt in a soft turquoise colour, and a red military style jacket. She tied her hair at the back of her neck with a narrow black ribbon and set a tiny turquoise hat on top of it. Slipping into her shoes, she made her way downstairs just as the knocker sounded and Teresa, the elder of their two maidservants, opened the door.

  Pippa took a deep breath. That there were going to be repercussions from the night before, she did not doubt, but she had as much right to be out on the marshes at night as Sir Ashley had and if she was going to be quizzed, so was he. The trouble was she did not feel quite so courageous when face to face with him.

  He stepped into the hall and swept her a bow, just as if they had not been soaking wet and in each other’s arms barely hours earlier. He was looking incredibly handsome in a suit of heavy grey silk and a pale lemon waistcoat embroidered with tendrils of leaves in grey. His white cravat and stockings were pristine. What was more, unlike Pippa, he was bright-eyed and alert. She felt herself wilt under his steady gaze and it was an effort of will to pull herself together and answer him with a deep curtsy.

  ‘Sir Ashley, good morning,’ she said as her aunt joined her in the vestibule. ‘As you see, we are ready.’

  They each had a small portmanteau and Augusta had a change of clothes for Ben in another bag, which was stowed in the basket at the back of the vehicle. Then Sir Ashley helped them into their seats. The morning was cool and he had provided hot bricks and rugs, which he carefully arranged over their knees before ordering Tom Davies to proceed.

  Pippa hoped nothing would be said about the night before, but in this she was thwarted because they had no sooner started to
move than her aunt addressed their escort. ‘Sir Ashley, I believe I owe you a debt of gratitude for looking after my niece last night when she was so unfortunate as to fall into a stream.’

  Pippa’s face turned scarlet.

  ‘Mrs Whiteside, your gratitude is unnecessary,’ he said, looking at Pippa with a faintly amused smile. ‘I am sure Miss Kingslake would have extricated herself eventually. Besides, she has already thanked me.’

  ‘She should never have gone out at night alone,’ Augusta continued, adding to Pippa’s mortification. ‘There are dangers all around.’

  ‘True,’ he murmured. ‘But I am persuaded Miss Kingslake takes no account of danger. She told me she often goes out alone.’

  Augusta gave Pippa a reproachful look, while continuing to address Sir Ashley. ‘I am afraid her parents brought her up far too liberally. They made no distinction between her and her brother and, as they had no other playmates, they did everything together.’

  ‘Ah,’ he said and to Pippa there seemed to be a deal of meaning in that little word. She wished her aunt had not mentioned Nat. ‘I conclude Mr Kingslake takes no note of danger either.’

  ‘They are as bad as each other. To give Philippa her due, after my dear brother and his wife died, she felt she must look out for Nathaniel and curb his mischief and to do that she must follow in his footsteps. It has given her a love of adventure that is not confined to books.’

  ‘Aunt, I never told you that.’ Pippa found her voice at last.

  ‘But it is true, is it not? You have often taken the blame for a misdemeanour of Nathaniel’s. Do not think I have not noticed.’

  Ash turned to Philippa. She was looking decidedly uncomfortable and he began to feel a tiny bit sorry for her, but he was not going to let her off the hook just yet. ‘And was that what you were doing last night, protecting your brother by impersonating him?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You said yourself I am nothing like a man.’

  ‘So I did.’ He smiled at the memory and she knew why he was smiling. She felt the colour flare in her cheeks.

  ‘Then you have your answer.’

  ‘I do not think so,’ he said. ‘Why were you there?’

  ‘My aunt has told you. A love of adventure. Call it curiosity.’

  ‘Curiosity, my dear Miss Kingslake, was the death of the cat.’

  ‘That is a silly saying. And I am not a cat.’

  ‘Ah, then I need not fear your claws.’

  A ‘hmph’ from the other corner of the carriage reminded him that they were not alone and Mrs Whiteside did not appreciate his teasing. He stopped smiling and became serious. ‘What did you hope to learn?’

  ‘How it was done, how the cargo was dispersed. I had no idea it was such a huge enterprise. I thought it was simply a barrel here, a keg there, a few packets of tea to be distributed among the local population. Instead it is a whole caravan of carts, mules and men moving in the dark.’

  He did not believe she had been so ignorant. An enterprise such as had taken place the previous night could not help but be known to everyone, including Sir Felix and the Revenue men. Pretending ignorance was much more comfortable, your conscience need not trouble you and, unless you were as foolish as Philippa Kingslake, you stayed indoors when the ‘gentlemen’ were about.

  ‘And what did the men say to you when they saw you among them?’ he asked.

  She wondered if he had heard what John Bristow had told her. ‘They did not speak,’ she said. ‘They needed their breath for the task in hand.’

  ‘Pity. So you did not discover what happened to your brother?’

  ‘My brother, sir, is from home. I believe I have already told you that.’

  ‘So you did, but you did not say where he was.’

  ‘He is at sea.’

  ‘At sea?’ he queried, one eyebrow raised.

  ‘Why not?’ she said, ignoring her aunt’s startled gasp. ‘We are a sea-faring family. My father was a naval captain before he retired on half-pay and my mother frequently went on voyages with him. And sometimes my brother and I went with them. Is it any wonder that Nat should want to follow in our father’s footsteps?’

  ‘You mean he is a naval man?’

  ‘No, but he goes out with the fishermen and sometimes signs on to a merchantman.’

  Augusta opened her mouth to speak but, catching Pippa’s warning look, subsided into silence, much to Pippa’s relief. She dare not look at Sir Ashley, who must surely detect her prevarication in her eyes. She was not used to being deceitful, hated it, especially now when Sir Ashley who was doing his best to help them. But it was necessary. He did not hold with smuggling and if he knew Nat was well and truly involved, he would have no hesitation in tracking him down and giving him over to the law along with the village men who acted as tub carriers and batmen. Each had a financial stake in the safe delivery of the cargo and it was more than they could earn legitimately in six months. Even though Nat was not among them this time, she did not want them caught because most of them had families who would be destitute without their bread winners. In one way she was glad she had fallen in the ditch because helping her had distracted Sir Ashley from following them.

  Knowing he was watching her, she turned her head to look out at the countryside. There were meadows with cattle and horses grazing, but the animals were mostly sheep—thousands of them, with their young lambs frolicking about them. It always lifted Pippa’s spirits to see them. They were usually a promise of summer and better times to come, but with the wheat flattened by hailstones and other fields still the dark brown of tilled earth, their crops barely visible, it did not look as if this year’s harvest was going to be any better than the years before it. No wonder the men needed to smuggle.

  The coachman pulled up at an inn in Fakenham to rest the horses. The ladies used the opportunity to refresh their toilette and sit over a cup of tea which Ash ordered for them before he left to speak to Tom about their onward journey.

  ‘Philippa,’ her aunt burst out, as soon as they were alone. ‘Why did you tell Sir Ashley that Nathaniel was at sea? It would have been better to tell him the truth. He has been so very accommodating over Ben, I am sure he would help.’

  ‘Aunt, it is the truth. John Bristow said he saw him jump into the longboat when the dragoons came onto the beach. He was rowed out to the smugglers’ ship.’

  ‘John Bristow spoke to you?’

  ‘Not exactly. He thought he was talking to Nat and wondered how he had come ashore again. He wanted me—I mean Nat—to find out what Sir Ashley was up to in Narbeach…’

  ‘Philippa, this is all becoming far too involved. Let us concentrate on fetching Ben home. If Nat has gone to sea, he will find his own way home eventually. And we will naturally not spy on Sir Ashley. That would be a poor way to repay his kindness.’

  Pippa sighed. She had no intention of telling the blacksmith anything about Sir Ashley, even though she realised it would be a way of getting rid of him and his curiosity. His fate if she did that was too terrible to contemplate.

  ‘We will go to Fairfields and change these horses for the bays,’ Ashley was saying to Tom as he watched the horses drink from the leather buckets Tom had filled with water from the inn’s trough. ‘I have no wish to leave my prize cattle at a common inn. It is only a few miles out of our way and we will easily reach Norwich by the middle of the afternoon.’

  ‘Will we return tonight, Sir Ashley? It will be a long journey for the ladies and will be full dark before we arrive back at Narbeach, even if you get your business done quickly.’

  ‘I was thinking the same thing, Tom. I will suggest we come back as far as Fairfields and stay there tonight.’ He gave a wry smile; it seemed even his coachman knew his errand and he supposed every inhabitant of Narbeach did too. He wondered idly if an attempt might be made to stop him fulfilling it. On the other hand, while he was going after one mischievous lad, they would be able to distribute their cargo without hindrance. He hadn’t warned the Customs and E
xcise, as he should have done, because he did not want a battle in which the villagers might be killed or injured, if not arrested and hanged. It was not the villagers he was after. And there was another reason, which he was loath to admit and it had something to do with how deeply involved Miss Kingslake was and how much he wanted to save her from her own folly. ‘If they agree, of course. Miss Kingslake may have other ideas.’

  Miss Kingslake was a puzzle. That she was a hoyden, he did not doubt, but he was also sure there was more to it than that. He suspected she was trying to shield the smugglers. Was it only on account of her young cousin, who would be little help to him, or was her brother also involved? She was certainly reluctant to talk about him. Was he really at sea? If so, what was his business if it wasn’t smuggling? The contraband had to be brought from France or Holland before it could be landed in England and Kingslake might be one of the crew or even the agent who bought the goods, trusted by the man with the money to strike a good bargain. Did Miss Kingslake know that or even suspect it? He hoped she did not.

  He wanted to believe her innocent. He found her disturbingly attractive even when dressed in her brother’s clothes. Especially then. Shivering with cold and fright, she still had the spirit to stand up to him. There was between them, not sympathy, she would hate that, but a kind of empathy which he would never have believed possible a few days before. He had come to Narbeach in full control of himself and his mission, determined to do his duty and bring the smugglers to justice, and instead had found himself wavering between exasperation and tenderness. No woman had ever come close to disarming him like that before and yet she had done it in the space of forty-eight hours. The sooner the business of the smugglers was concluded, the sooner he could go back to London, hand in his report and go back to the life he was used to.

  The horses were ready to go on and he went into the inn to fetch the ladies and a few minutes later they were on their way again. No one spoke—they seemed to have run out of things to say—and Augusta was snoring lightly with her hat tipped forwards over her eyes, and neither liked to waken her. But when the carriage turned off the main road onto a narrow track, Pippa became alarmed. ‘Sir Ashley, where are you taking us? We have left the Norwich road.’