by Mary Nichols
‘Do not despair, Aunt,’ she said, reaching for her aunt’s hand. ‘Why, we might even find him at home ahead of us.’
‘But he cannot stay there,’ Augusta cried. ‘The Revenue men will come and arrest him. We shall have to go into hiding.’
‘That would put you beyond the law yourself, madam,’ Ash said. ‘I would not recommend it.’ He paused because she looked as though she were about to burst into tears again and Miss Kingslake was looking at him as if she would like to thrust a dagger into his heart. ‘But do not despair, it has not come to that yet,’ he went on. ‘If the boy was freed against his will and forced to go with the others, we may yet save him.’ He had tried to explain this when he told her why Ben had not returned with them from the castle. She had spread Ben’s clean clothes out on the bed, ready for him, and had been loath to leave, as if her boy would find her in Norwich, but they had persuaded her at last and she had reluctantly folded everything back into the bag and taken it out to the waiting carriage.
They arrived back at Fairfields in a very different mood from the one they had been experiencing when they left there that afternoon. Then there had been hope, now there was very little. Ash’s cook was expecting them this time and had gone to great lengths to impress the ladies. And their bedchambers had been prepared with crisp sheets, warm blankets and plenty of hot water.
Pippa appreciated this and was at pains to express it, but there was little conversation over the meal. What there was centred round Ben’s disappearance and what they could do to find him, and wondering who the other six might be. Pippa, who had only seen them in the dark, could not say. She wondered why Sir Ashley continued to help them; he must surely have given them up as a lost cause by now. Here they were, two foolish women in league with smugglers, and they were being entertained royally. She was grateful, but wondered what recompense he would demand and when it would be demanded. Information or something more personal? Had that kiss been a prelude to something else? If he began all his liaisons like that, gently and without pressure, was it any wonder the ladies flocked to accommodate him? Why did the prospect of that put her insides in such a turmoil?
When the meal came to an end, the ladies excused themselves and said they would retire early. Ash escorted them up to their rooms. Stopping outside Augusta’s, he bowed and took her hand. ‘Goodnight, Mrs Whiteside. Things will look brighter in the morning. If you think of that you will sleep.’
She thanked him, kissed Pippa and went into the room, shutting the door behind her.
‘Poor thing,’ Pippa said as they moved along the corridor. ‘I do not know how to comfort her.’
‘I am persuaded you are already a great comfort to her, Miss Kingslake, but who comforts you?’
She looked startled for a moment, remembering that fleeting kiss, and was tempted to say, ‘You do’, but decided that would be much too forward of her. ‘I do not need it,’ she said.
‘Everyone does at some point in their lives,’ he said quietly.
‘My aunt has always been someone I can turn to,’ she said. ‘Now, when she needs me, I have failed her. If I had not filled Ben’s head with adventure stories, if I had kept a better watch on him, I might have persuaded him not to go down to the beach.’
Was that why she had been hiding in the sand—she had been trying to rescue her cousin? Why had she not told him so? Did she not trust him? ‘Ben is fifteen years old and no doubt he considers himself a man,’ he said. ‘You cannot hold yourself responsible for his mischief.’
‘But I do. And how to put it right, I do not know.’
‘We will think of something,’ he said. Saving adventurous boys and stubborn women was not part of his remit, but he knew he had to try.
They had stopped outside her door. She turned to say goodnight. Instead of sweeping her a bow, he took her hand and raised it to his lips, looking into her face over their joined hands. ‘You are a good woman, Miss Philippa Kingslake,’ he said, releasing her. ‘You deserve a good man.’
She did not know what to make of that and was still puzzling over it when she was in her room with the door shut between them.
Ash returned downstairs to sit alone in the book room with a glass of cognac. Never before had duty and desire clashed so clamorously as it was doing now. Until now, given the choice between his mistress of the day and his commitment to the Piccadilly Gentlemen, there had been no contest; the mistress had to put up with his frequent disappearances on society business and he always returned with a costly gift to compensate her. This was different. Miss Philippa Kingslake was a woman of undoubted charm, but she was not mistress material. And it was not only her charm that attracted him, but her selflessness, her essential goodness. She seemed incapable of seeing ill in anyone and yet her cousin—and, he did not doubt, her brother—were like to destroy her if she insisted on helping them. It behoved him to extricate her and then disappear from her life. He was not the good man she deserved, and it had been wrong of him to kiss her like that.
He went to his desk and wrote his daily report for the Gentlemen. It was untypically skeletal. Until he resolved his dilemma to the satisfaction of his conscience, he kept most of it back. Whether the others would read between the lines he did not know. Explanations would have to come later. He dusted the ink and sealed the paper before laying it on the table in the vestibule for one of the servants to take to the mail, and then he went up to bed.
They set out immediately after breakfast the next morning. Augusta was dry-eyed, but white as a ghost; Pippa did not look much better. When they reached the Bawdeswell crossroads, where the prisoners had been freed, Augusta insisted they stop. ‘Sir Ashley, please make enquiries to see if anyone witnessed the incident and can say which direction the prisoners took after they were set free.’
He complied, asking the women grouped about the village well filling their containers and then at the inn, though he knew perfectly well that no one would dare tell him for fear of reprisals. He returned to the carriage none the wiser. ‘They were all blind or looking the other way,’ he told the ladies. ‘Let us go on. Ben might already be at home waiting for you.’ But he was not and Augusta’s brief upturn in spirits plummeted again.
There were men missing from their homes, Pippa discovered, when she went into the village the following day. ‘Gone to market,’ she was told when she asked after them, or ‘visiting relations in the shires’. Pippa assumed they had either been one of those arrested or were escorting the contraband inland. There was no sign of Ben. Or Nat. And there were posters fastened to trees and walls offering a reward for news of the whereabouts of the seven escapees. The Customs did not like losing prisoners.
To add to her problems Sir Ashley Saunders was still staying at the Manor. He muddled her head until she did not know what to think. Friend or foe? Her earlier decision that he was her foe teetered when she thought about his kindness and his kisses. Especially his kisses. Was she a fool to trust him?
As if to conjure him up, he came riding towards her on the mount he had borrowed from Sir Felix. Reaching her, he dismounted and led the horse towards her.
Her heart began to beat frantically and she had to take a firm hold of herself to face him. In a brown riding coat, cream breeches and shining leather boots, he filled her vision to the exclusion of all else. ‘Miss Kingslake, your obedient.’ He was looking at her almost as if he had heard her unspoken thoughts about him.
‘Good morning, Sir Ashley.’ She was surprised there was no detectable quiver in her voice. ‘Have you any news of the escaped prisoners?’
‘None, I am afraid. Have you?’
‘No. I was on my way home. I do not like to leave my aunt too long. She is distraught and her head is full of dreadful images, the least of which is that Ben has gone abroad and she will never see him again.’
He turned to accompany her, throwing the horse’s reins over his shoulder, so that it plodded along behind them. ‘I think that unlikely. My own feeling is that the fugitives must have a
safe house somewhere. If only we knew where it was.’
‘If you did find out, what would you do?’ she asked. ‘Have them all re-arrested?’
‘It is what a law-abiding citizen should do,’ he said slowly. He gave a short bark of a laugh. ‘But it would undoubtedly make me very unpopular hereabouts.’
‘I had not thought you would be bothered about popularity.’
‘There is only one person, or perhaps two, whose good opinion I would have and keep,’ he murmured.
She looked sharply at him, but did not comment. ‘What shall we do now?’ she asked.
‘I think it would be wisest not to show too much curiosity. We may learn more by appearing indifferent. Your cousin, wherever he is, is undoubtedly being looked after. If we pry too closely, he might be put at risk.’
‘I expect you are right,’ she said with a sigh.
They arrived at Windward House and she invited him in for refreshment. He accepted and tethered his horse at the gate before following her inside.
‘Have you news of Ben?’ Augusta demanded as soon as the courtesies had been performed and he was seated on one of their sofas with a cup of tea in front of him.
‘None, ma’am, I am afraid. But do not despair. He will turn up. I will leave no stone unturned to locate him.’
He had been talking to Sir Felix over breakfast, but that gentleman had been sanguine. ‘Lord Borrowdale should have sent them by a more roundabout route and with a heavier guard,’ he had said. ‘I could have foretold what would happen. And now we have lost the boy and the good opinion of the ladies at Windward House.’
‘And also six smugglers and the contraband from the Custom House,’ Ash had reminded him because he seemed to have forgotten them.
‘Those, too. Captain Lovechild and his dragoons are out searching for them, but I doubt they will be found. No one will inform on a smuggler.’ It had been said with just a hint of satisfaction. Ash was more than ever convinced Sir Felix knew what was going on and condoned it, even if he was not actively involved. But in exposing the man, he ran the risk of endangering Ben and losing the good will of Mrs Whiteside and Miss Kingslake. He was in a cleft stick.
‘Sir Felix tells me the dragoons are out combing the countryside for the fugitives,’ he told the ladies.
‘Oh, dear, I wish we could find Ben first.’
‘I still have Lord Borrowdale’s authorisation to take him into my custody,’ he said. ‘I shall make use of it if I can.’
‘We are most grateful to you, Sir Ashley,’ Augusta said. ‘Are we not, Philippa?’
Pippa, who had been gazing out of the window across the yard, puzzled by what she saw, was brought back with a start. ‘What? Oh, yes, we are in your debt, sir.’
He rose to take his leave and Pippa accompanied him to the gate, walking between him and the yard and keeping up a flow of conversation about the calmness of the sea, which had been so rough two nights before, and how the clouds were like ships in full sail, forcing him to look seawards. As he picked up the reins he turned to bid her good day and was puzzled when she suddenly skipped round him and he was forced to make a half-turn in order to face her.
‘Good day to you, Sir Ashley,’ she said as he prepared to mount. ‘You will keep us informed of developments, won’t you?’
‘Naturally I will. I hope you will do the same.’
‘Of course,’ she said, wishing him gone.
He touched his hat and cantered away.
She watched him out of sight and then sped to the stables. Joe was just coming out, carrying a tray containing an empty tankard and a plate on which was the remains of a meal. Joe normally ate in the kitchen with the rest of the servants; there was no need to take food to his room. ‘Joe,’ she said, blocking his path. ‘What have you got there?’
He looked sheepish. ‘I were hungry,’ he mumbled.
‘Don’t lie to me, Joseph Sadler, you had a good breakfast with everyone else. You’re hiding Ben, aren’t you? Where is he?’
He stood looking at the ground and said nothing.
‘Joe, he may have sworn you to secrecy, but I am unswearing you. His mother is beside herself with grief and you are keeping his whereabouts from her. That is unkind.’
He jerked his head upwards without speaking. She ran to the ladder that led to his quarters and ran lightly up it. Flinging open the door, she marched over to the bed and stripped off the blankets to reveal her cousin curled up in the middle. ‘There you are, Ben Whiteside,’ she said angrily. ‘Just what do you think you were about, frightening your poor mama as you have, getting arrested and then, to make matters worse, escaping and trying to hide?’
He was large for his age, almost full grown, but now he cowered like a frightened child. She curbed her inclination to hug him and continued her tirade until she ran out of breath.
‘I didn’t mean to,’ he pleaded. ‘I just wanted an adventure. Nothing ever happens in Narbeach and I was bored. When I heard Nat and Joe talking about going down to the beach, I thought I’d go too.’
‘That much I guessed,’ she said, her voice softening. ‘But have you any idea of the trouble you have caused? And it’s not over yet, for we have to decide what to do with you.’
‘You’ll never hand me in?’ he queried, his blue eyes bright with alarm.
‘It’s what you deserve.’
‘Oh, no, Pip, you wouldn’t, would you?’
‘You had better come into the house and see what your mother thinks about it. She has been so worried, I doubt she will scold you.’
‘You have done enough for both,’ he said, his cheeky grin returning. Nevertheless, he followed her down the ladder and into the house.
Augusta shrieked when she saw him, battered him about the head and body with her hands and then, breathless, hugged him until he called for mercy. Then she pulled him down onto the sofa beside her and demanded to know what had happened.
‘I followed Nat and Joe down to the beach—’
‘I knew it,’ the good lady said. ‘It is Nathaniel’s fault.’
‘No, Mama, it was not. When he realised I was there, he sent me home, very angry with me, he was. But then the dragoons came. We were marched off to the Customs House, but they decided we would not be safe there, so they sent us to Wells in a cart. We saw the beak there the next morning and he sent us to Norwich, shackled to each other. I didn’t want to go. I kept saying I was no smuggler, but no one took any notice and when we reached Bawdeswell crossroads, a crowd attacked the escort. Very rough they were, too. We were led into the woods where our shackles were broken off. After that it was every man for himself and I came home.’
‘Thank God,’ Augusta said, hugging him again.
‘That’s all very well,’ Pippa said. She had been standing looking down at them, only half-listening to the story, which bore out what she had already surmised. Her thoughts had gone to Sir Ashley Saunders and what to do about him. ‘We cannot hide him for ever.’
‘No, we will tell Sir Ashley he is found. He will do what he can.’
‘You think he can be trusted?’ she queried.
‘Yes. Don’t you?’
‘Who is Sir Ashley?’ Ben demanded, before Pippa could answer.
‘Who is Sir Ashley?’ Pippa repeated, wondering herself. ‘He is a gentleman and he has been helping us to look for you, but he doesn’t hold with smuggling, so if you ever meet him, you must be careful what you say to him. Do not mention Nat.’
‘I will not, but I’d as soon you kept away from him. Nat would not like it.’
‘Nathaniel is not here and we have to trust someone,’ his mother put in. ‘Besides, Sir Ashley has a paper for your release. We need that.’
‘Do you know who finances the runs?’ Pippa asked him. ‘Or who pays the men’s wages?’
‘No, course not. Nat might.’
‘You will not tell Sir Ashley that,’ she said sharply. ‘I wish Nat were here. It is too bad of him to leave us to deal with this alone.’
; ‘We are not alone,’ her aunt said. ‘Go to Sir Ashley, Philippa.’
‘I cannot go to the Manor and ask to see him. Sir Felix will not leave us alone and I cannot speak in front of him. I must find another way. In the meantime Ben must stay indoors.’
She had her son back so Augusta did not argue. She fussed round him and fed him to bursting point, while Pippa went up to her bedchamber where she could be quiet, contemplating the sea from her window and discarding one plan after another. Her worry over Ben and Nat was all mixed up with her feelings for Sir Ashley, which were beginning to take over every waking moment and some of her sleeping moments too. Her aunt wanted her to throw herself on his mercy and beg his assistance and that, deep in her heart, was what she wanted to do. But her head was telling her to beware, that he had hidden motives of his own which she had yet to learn.
She wished she understood men more, but, apart from Edward, she had little experience dealing with them. Edward was shallow, so shallow that he allowed his superstitious mother to dictate to him. Sir Ashley was not shallow, he was deep, deep as the sea, and just as mysterious.
The sea was calm today, only a few breakers rolled against the shore. The tide was out and the cockle gatherers were busy digging in the wet sand. There were fishing boats out beyond the sandbanks and a cutter was sailing slowly along the horizon parallel to the coast. As she watched its sails were furled and it dropped anchor. Suddenly the cocklers picked up their baskets and hurried back to dry land. Pippa ran to find her brother’s spyglass and, bringing it back, trained it on the ship. It was the smugglers’ cutter and was undoubtedly bringing in the remainder of the contraband they had not managed to unload before. It might also be bringing her brother back. She jumped up, eyes alight, a smile on her lips, joyfully anticipating their reunion, but that feeling suddenly left her. He was a smuggler wanted by the law and the law demanded that smugglers hang. He must be warned about Sir Ashley’s presence in the village and sent away again.
