When You Wish

by Jane Feather

  “Short … squat,” she said, thinking of everything opposite her stranger.

  He sat back in his chair. “And no one saw you move anything?”

  She shook her head. “I was keeping watch again.”

  He stared at something on his desk. “Get out, gel, and keep your mouth shut. Tell your father to do the same.”

  “Yes, my lord,” she said.

  He smiled then. It was a smooth, sly smile. “You and your family need not bother yourselves with the matter any longer. I’ll make sure you’re all protected.”

  “But—”

  “I want to hear no more of this,” the earl said softly. “Get yourself home, gel, and tell your da he should be more careful about his associates.”

  She gave a brief curtsy and fled, anger and triumph warring with each other inside her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DURING THE NEXT several days, Holly almost told her da about what she had done. But he was apparently living in unconcerned ignorance. His part was over and eventually Tim Bailey would appear and pay him.

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him differently. Nor could she risk his becoming involved again with the earl. So she kept silent, relieved that it was harvest time and he and Paul spent hours in the field. On their return, they were too tired to ask many questions.

  She wanted to see the stranger, but her mother had worsened, and she had to stay at home. He knew what had happened in the manor; Denny would have given him a complete report, and she had little doubt that soldiers would be watching the caves.

  She just had to wait, even though she ached to see Justin, to feel his arms around her. But for how long? The thought of never seeing him again filled her with loneliness. She hadn’t missed what she hadn’t known. But now …

  “You look different,” her mother observed the third afternoon after her visit to Gatwell. “There’s no young man, is there?”

  “No,” Holly replied truthfully. There was no young man. There was only a man old beyond his years who carried burdens she barely comprehended, a man who made it clear there was no room for a woman in his life.

  Her mother clasped her hand. “More than anything, I want to see you wedded to a man you truly love,” she said. “As I was.”

  Holly glanced down at her mother, seeing how much that love had cost her. Poverty. Disappointment. And now this wasting sickness. Yet the glow of love remained. And the shine of hope.

  And she realized how lucky her mother had been.

  She nodded.

  “Don’t be afraid to take chances for a man you love,” her mother whispered. Her fingers clutched Holly’s. “Fight for him. Promise me.”

  It was almost as if her mother knew about the stranger. “I will,” she said.

  Her mother smiled. “Then go, love. I’ll get some rest.”

  “I’ll be in the next room.”

  “No. You need fresh air. Go to the cliffs. I know you like it there.”

  Holly hesitated, then leaned down and kissed her mother on her forehead. It was cool. The fever was gone.

  When Holly opened the door, she saw the roiling clouds to the east. A storm was coming; the air was alive with electricity.

  And then she realized what that meant. Not only would a storm keep almost everyone inside, it also necessitated action on the earl’s part. A heavy storm would flood the cave, ruining the casks of brandy, perhaps dragging them back to sea.

  Was he so greedy that he would risk retrieving the casks during a storm? She wasn’t sure.

  She followed the path toward the sea, knowing inside her heart that Justin would be there. She even felt his presence long before she saw the tall figure silhouetted against the clouds that darkened the horizon. He wore no hat, and the wind ruffled his hair. His gaze was directed toward the sea, and he looked stark and lonely, a man apart from all others.

  As she had sensed his presence, he had apparently sensed hers. He turned, then walked toward her. “You shouldn’t be out,” he said. “A storm is coming.”

  “I know. I like storms.”

  He smiled. “I should have expected that.” Then his lips thinned, and the smile disappeared as if it had never existed. “Tonight could be dangerous. If he’s going to move, it must be now.”

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  “I paid him a visit today,” he said, “and demanded my money.”

  “He didn’t recognize you?”

  He shook his head. “No reason he should. I was in full uniform fifteen years ago. I’ve changed a great deal, and the cane is more effective than a mask. People often don’t see the man carrying it.”

  Was he warning her, testing her? The cane had never mattered to her, not even when she’d first seen him in the village.

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  “That I was a notorious gambler who had probably cheated, and he had no intention of rewarding a scoundrel,” he replied dryly. “He was very righteous about it all, but he knows he must pay to avoid a scandal. There were too many witnesses to the game.”

  She noticed that her body was leaning into his. She had no idea how it had happened.

  “Denny’s even more in love with you now,” he continued. “The vision of loveliness also has the heart of a lioness, according to him. Tell me, Miss Holly, are you daunted by anything?”

  “I was terrified,” she said.

  “That’s the test of true courage, Holly. Not lack of fear.”

  Her heartbeat quickened, and then she wondered if he was talking about himself. He had a strange expression on his face and his gray eyes were smoldering, like hot ashes from a fire.

  He leaned down and kissed her lightly. “You had better get home. I will be meeting some friends shortly. Keep your father and brother in the cottage tonight.”

  She felt disappointment. She’d wanted to be present at the earl’s downfall.

  “It’s important, Holly.”

  “Will … will I have to witness against him?”

  He hesitated. “Perhaps.”

  A lump settled in her throat. “Then Da will have to know?”

  “I think you might want to tell him yourself,” he said gently. “Secrets have a way of revealing themselves.”

  “And then you’ll leave?”

  He was silent for a long time. “Yes,” he finally said.

  She bit her lip and lowered her eyes, blinking to keep tears back. To thine own wish be true. Fight for him. Two pieces of advice, one ancient, one uttered just moments ago. But how could she fight for something so out of the realm of possibility?

  “I’ll miss you,” she said simply.

  “Will you, Miss Holly? I don’t think I’ve ever been missed by anyone before.” His voice was sensual, beguiling.

  “I … don’t believe that.”

  “It is the plain truth, and I thank you for changing that dismal fact, as well as for your help with Gatwell,” he said. “And now I think you’d better go.”

  “You’ll let me know what happens?” she asked, unwilling yet to leave him.

  “You can be sure of that. I’ll not disappear without saying good-bye.”

  “Be careful.”

  His finger caressed her cheek but he said nothing. Then he turned around, facing the sea again. “Good afternoon, Miss Hastings.”

  Feeling abandoned, she stood still a moment, watching him. Then she straightened her back. “Good afternoon, Mr. Savage,” she managed to say with no small measure of dignity.

  JUSTIN DREW the cloak around him. A familiar excitement shimmered inside as he saw dim lights dancing in the distance. Lanterns, he guessed. Lanterns dimmed by the falling rain and light fog.

  Voices were audible, even against the tattering of raindrops and the occasional drum of thunder. He could not have summoned a more perfect night for smugglers.

  Would the earl himself come?

  Justin wasn’t too sure. But he was gambling that the French brandy was too valuable for Gatwell to leave to chance a second time. Gatwell w
ouldn’t have time to create the usual layers of obfuscation around him.

  Gavin’s gloved hand touched his, letting him know he too had seen the lights. Five men, including the two of them, lay hidden among the jutting rocks above the caves. Five more men were secreted in the cave below. A mile away, more men waited with horses.

  Justin watched as the lanterns bobbed closer to them before he and the others ducked out of sight. They would follow the smugglers down to the cave, catching them neatly in a trap.

  He heard the sound of wheels. A wagon of some kind. It would have to be left on the cliff above, with at least one man to stand watch.

  The sound of boots and voices disappeared where a path led down to the sea. After several moments, Justin motioned to Gavin. The two of them separated, crawling along the ground. Justin looked between two rocks and saw the dark outline of a wagon. Unfortunately, the leader of this band had been smart enough not to leave a lantern burning, and Justin had no idea where the watch might be. If it were him, though, he would seek some kind of shelter.

  He listened, then he heard the sound of rocks rolling. Gavin was doing his part, creating a diversion.

  A rough voice challenged the sound. “Who goes there?”

  Justin managed to get a fix on the sound. Toward the front of the wagon.

  “Who goes there?” came the voice again, this time more threatening.

  Justin circled to the right, grateful for the rain that covered what small sound his boots made. He saw the outline of a man, and he took the knife from his belt as he inched forward.

  Gavin made another rustle, and the man swung slightly to his left. Justin crept up to him, wrapping his arm around the neck and putting the knife to the man’s throat.

  “Not a sound,” he whispered. “Drop that revolver.”

  The weapon dropped.

  “Are you alone up here?” he asked.

  The man nodded.

  “Gavin,” Justin called out. Gavin appeared out of nowhere.

  “Is Gatwell with you?” Justin asked his captive. When no answer came immediately, his knife pricked the man’s neck. “Is he?”

  “Aye,” the man said quickly.

  Satisfaction flooded through Justin. After tying and gagging the man, he and Gavin gathered the remaining soldiers and started down the path.

  The small beach was almost totally awash with waves. Justin, followed by the others, picked his way along the bottom of the cliffs to the opening of the cave. Trying to blend with the dark walls, he moved inside, seeing the flickering lights ahead.

  Their men had removed some kegs earlier and hidden themselves toward the back of the cache. Their instructions were to wait until they heard Justin and their lieutenant.

  Justin picked out the shadowy forms of five men. No, six. The last man was standing to the side as the others were in various stages of reaching for or carrying kegs.

  “Gatwell!”

  Justin’s voice echoed inside the cave. Several kegs dropped at the sound. Gatwell reached for a pistol tucked in his belt.

  “Don’t!” Justin shouted.

  But Gatwell had already pulled out the pistol.

  Justin fired, aiming at Gatwell’s arm, and the earl slumped against the side of the cave, his weapon falling to the ground.

  “King’s men,” Gavin announced. “You are all under arrest.”

  Curses echoed in the cave, and one man reached for a blunderbuss leaning against several kegs.

  “I wouldna’ be doin’ that,” a voice warned as men stepped out from behind kegs. The smugglers were now sandwiched between two groups of armed men.

  A roar of pure rage came from Gatwell. “Do you know who I am?”

  “I know exactly who you are,” Justin replied, stepping into the light.

  “Savage,” the earl said, holding his bleeding arm. “What in the devil?”

  “You should have paid the gambling debt,” Justin said mildly. “And a few other debts as well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “One you owe a company of king’s guards you sold to Napoleon.”

  Gatwell’s eyes narrowed on Justin, as the earl tried to remember.

  “Did you betray so many companies that you can’t recall each one?” Justin yearned to kill the man here and now.

  “You’re insane,” Gatwell said. “I’ll have you arrested. I heard about this shipment, and I decided to secure it for the Crown.”

  “In the dead of night?” Justin said. “You told the constabulary, of course?”

  “I don’t have to,” the earl said arrogantly.

  “Then you can explain it to a magistrate.”

  Gatwell shrugged carelessly. “I want a doctor.”

  “In Polperro,” Gavin said, stepping in. “There’s a secure gaol there.”

  “I’ll have you cashiered.” Gatwell sneered.

  Gavin laughed. “Tie them up,” he told two of his men.

  “My arm,” Gatwell protested.

  Gavin looked at Justin and shrugged. “He’s not going anyplace.”

  Justin hesitated, and then nodded reluctantly.

  In minutes, the five men with Gatwell were tied, including a man Justin identified as the butler who’d admitted him to Gatwell’s estate earlier in the day. He didn’t look as superior now as he had then.

  “What about the brandy?” Gavin asked.

  “We’ll take five casks as evidence and leave the rest here,” Justin said. “The sea will probably take them.” And if not the sea, then certainly the villagers, who could use the money.

  Waves were beginning to lap at the cave as they left, two of Gavin’s men guarding Gatwell, five carrying casks of brandy, and the remainder prodding the other smugglers. Justin, a lantern in hand, took the lead as they started up the path.

  HOLLY SLIPPED out of the house and made for the path to the sea. She heard Georgette complain noisily from her enclosure. The goat would continue until she woke someone.

  She slipped the latch from the gate and allowed Georgette out. If anyone saw her, she could always claim Georgette had escaped and she’d been out looking for her.

  Holly walked slowly at first, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Rain came steadily and she shivered. By the time she neared the cliffs, her cloak was soaked through.

  The rain finally slowed. She looked up at the sky. Her father would call it the devil’s sky. A small patch of light had escaped from the shrouded moon, casting eerie shadows across the moor. Her visibility improved and she speeded her steps. She heard the waves smashing against the cliffs and listened intently for human sounds.

  Finally, she heard the harsh commands of men, the oaths of others. She looked around her. Georgette was grazing some distance from her, safe for the moment. Holly ducked behind rocks. Men appeared, all of them clad in black. She could tell from their movements that some were bound. Justin was leading the procession. The earl was positioned between two armed men, and she noticed that he was stumbling.

  “You’re going too fast,” the earl shouted, and Justin stopped. He turned back just as the earl, moving more swiftly than Holly thought possible, grabbed a pistol from one of the men guarding him. Gatwell pushed the man aside and backed up, moving toward where she hid.

  “You can’t escape,” Justin said.

  “No,” the earl agreed. “But which one of you wants to die first? You, Savage?”

  “What do you think to gain?” Justin growled.

  “I won’t go to prison,” the earl said. “Or hang. That’s what you have in mind, isn’t it, Savage? Or should I say Talmadge?”

  Holly saw Justin’s body tense and heard his curt words. “You know?”

  “Once you gave me the clue,” Gatwell said, “I remembered you. A boy in uniform with a fool for a brother.”

  Holly hadn’t understood until this second what the earl hoped to gain. Now she did. He was goading Justin—or one of the other soldiers—into killing him.

  She realized something else. The earl’s pi
stol was aimed directly at Justin. Gatwell knew who had led him to ruin. And now why.

  Fear wrapped her heart. She had no weapon except surprise. Yet surprise might well spur Gatwell into shooting.

  The earl took two steps back. Then Holly heard something behind her—a loud bleat from Georgette.

  The bleat sounded again, and the earl turned toward the noise. He saw what everyone else was seeing: a white blur rushing toward him.

  Then she heard a grunt. Justin had taken advantage of the distraction and jumped the earl. Both men fell to the ground, fighting over the pistol.

  Holly grabbed Georgette’s halter. She held her breath, wanting to do something as the two men struggled and the soldiers stood still, afraid to fire for fear of hitting the wrong man.

  A shot rang out, and both men stilled. Her heart stopped beating for an instant, and then slowly Justin rose, shrugging off the earl’s heavier body. A growing red stain covered the earl’s chest.

  The sky rolled again with heavy clouds, and the air was filled with confusion, murmured curses, and stunned cries.

  Holly took a tentative step toward Justin. He reached out to her, and she released Georgette and took Justin’s hand, feeling its warmth and strength.

  “I should turn you over my knee,” came the familiar, beloved voice, “but I’d rather just hold you.”

  With that reluctant admission, he swept her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. “Little fool,” he whispered into her ear. “But you might just have saved my life tonight.”

  A man, stooping over the earl’s body, interrupted. “You might like to know that he’s quite dead. I do say, you always make things interesting. First time I’ve seen an earl undone by a goat.”

  There was a pause, then, “Are you going to introduce me?”

  “To the goat?” Justin asked with rare amusement.

  Holly savored the sound. She’d seen too little of this side of him.

  “Go to the devil,” the man said, bowing in front of her. “Lieutenant Gavin Karr at your service, miss. I hope you forgive my friend’s appalling manners.”

  “If you will forgive Georgette’s,” she said, instantly liking the officer.

  “Georgette?”