by Mary Nichols
‘I am sure you will.’
The carriage was drawing up outside the hotel and he did not wait for Jem to get down, but jumped down on the road side and walked round to open the door himself, letting down the step and holding out his hand to assist her.
She took his hand and stepped down; for a moment they stood face to face in the street, looking at each other in perplexity, neither able to say what was in their hearts. The silence stretched until she could bear it no longer. ‘Good night, my lord,’ she said.
He raised her hand to his lips. ‘Good night, my lady. I will call for you all at eleven in the morning. We must not disappoint our daughters, even if we have managed to disappoint each other.’
She was aware as she walked towards the door of the hotel that he was watching her and she managed to keep her back straight and her head up until she was inside and then her whole body sagged. His last words echoed in her head. Yes, she was disappointed and she supposed so was he; the night that had promised so much had ended in disaster. Aware that the night porter was watching her, she pulled herself together and climbed the stairs. How had it happened? How could such a magical evening have taken so wrong a turn? They had battered each other with words, words loaded with hurt and self-righteousness and she was too tired to go over them now, too tired to work out how to resolve the situation, if it could be resolved. She wanted her bed.
Joan Quinn was waiting in her bedchamber to help her undress, a broad smile on her face. ‘Did you enjoy yourself, my lady?’ she asked, taking Charlotte’s cloak and urging her to a seat so that she could remove her shoes.
‘Yes, thank you, Quinny, it was a lovely evening.’ So it had been until the interval waltz.
‘The girls wanted to stay up and see you home, eager to know all about it, but I told them you would be tired and if they did not go to bed, they would not be fit to go out with his lordship tomorrow.’
‘Bless you, Quinny. I am exhausted.’
‘Did you dance every dance, then?’ She was busy removing Charlotte’s dress as she spoke.
‘Yes, every one.’
‘Oh, I am so glad. The Viscount is such a fine gentleman. I didn’t think so when he first came to the Manor, but he’s not like the others, is he?’
‘No, not at all.’
The rest of her clothes came off and her nightgown was slipped over her head. ‘There, you have a good sleep, my lady. Tomorrow is another day.’
Yes, she thought as she almost fell into bed and Miss Quinn covered her and left her, tomorrow was another day and so was the day after that and the day after that…
Stacey was at the hotel promptly at eleven the following morning dressed in a brown tailcoat and strapped trousers. He was bright and cheerful and no one would have suspected he had had a sleepless night. He greeted Charlotte politely and easily, pretending there was nothing wrong between them, hoping that she had simply been a little out of sorts the evening before and worried that they might be seen and recognised and his behaviour might cause a scandal.
He had behaved badly, there was no doubt of it, succumbing to a temptation that was too inviting to resist. Stuck in Parson’s End, looking after an old man and two little girls, she had been shielded from the more relaxed ways of society and he ought to have realised that and not taken her lack of resistance for acquiescence. Now she was back in her black silk, her hair tucked under a plain black bonnet, looking pale but dignified. He bowed. ‘My lady, good morning. I trust you are well.’
‘Very well, thank you, my lord.’
He turned to look at the three girls, Charlotte’s two were dressed alike in pale blue spotted muslin and Julia in green jaconet. ‘My goodness, what a bevy of beauties,’ he said. ‘I shall be the envy of all.’
They giggled, all except Julia, and he decided he would have to speak to her alone, to try to explain that, no matter what she said or did, he would marry Lady Hobart, though he hoped she would behave herself and love her stepmother because he had no intention of giving her up. How he was going to persuade Charlotte herself of that, he did not yet know.
‘Are you ready?’ he enquired.
‘Oh, yes,’ they chorused.
It was a beautiful day for a stroll and he smiled to himself as he led them down Upper Brook Street towards the docks; he felt like a shepherd with a flock of sheep who were intent on straying and he must watch out that they did not wander off or dart into the road. For a man who professed not to like children, he was behaving very oddly. And all in the name of love!
The workman he had spoken to the day before came forward when he saw him bringing the children up to look at the vessel and doffed his hat. ‘Would the young ladies like to go aboard?’ he asked.
There was a chorus of assent and the man led the way up the gangplank. The children followed eagerly and Stacey turned to take Charlotte’s arm to assist her. They were shown round the whole ship—the captain’s cabin, the crew’s quarters, the galley—and looked aloft at the tall masts with their furled sails, while their guide explained that the ship had been built in the record time of fifteen months and it had taken two thousand loads of Suffolk oak to build her hull.
Having given the man a half-guinea for his trouble, they left to return the hotel thoroughly satisfied with their visit and Stacey’s credit was sky high, which gave him an inordinate sense of achievement. Little girls could be quite charming and he wondered how he could ever have thought otherwise. Even Charlotte was smiling at him again.
They were on the quayside when they met Gerard Topham, who came to a halt in astonishment when he saw the girls. ‘Darton,’ he said in his booming voice. ‘Never took you for a nursemaid.’
Stacey was about to make some rude retort, but thought better of it and grinned instead. He turned to Charlotte, who had been walking beside him but stopped when he did. ‘My lady, may I present my good friend and comrade in arms, Captain Gerard Topham. Captain, Lady Hobart of Parson’s End.’
‘Your obedient.’ Captain Topham clicked his heels to attention and bowed his head.
‘And this is my daughter, Julia,’ Stacey went on, drawing Julia forward. ‘And the others are Miss Hobart and Miss Frances Hobart.’
To give Gerard his due, he concealed his amusement very well as he bowed to the young ladies. ‘I was on my way to see you,’ he said to Stacey when the formalities had been concluded. ‘I have news.’
Charlotte looked from one to the other; they both appeared secretive and obviously not prepared to speak in front of her. ‘Come, girls,’ she said. ‘We will walk on and allow Lord Darton to talk to Captain Topham.’ And she ushered them out of earshot.
‘The vessel is only a few miles off shore,’ Gerard said when they had gone. ‘We thought it was making for the Kent coast, but a cutter went out to it from Felixstowe and it turned north. It is battling into the wind, but, if you are right about its destination, it should reach Parson’s End in the early hours of tomorrow morning.’
‘Sunday. Will they unload on a Sunday?’
‘Don’t see why not. If the wind and tide are right and there’s no moon, they wouldn’t put it off simply because it was the Sabbath, but they might not arrive in time to have everything off the beach by dawn and will stand off until it’s dark again.’
‘I must go back and make sure the villagers keep indoors. How many men will you have?’
‘Enough.’
‘Make sure they keep away from the house on the cliff, will you?’
‘They will have their orders.’
‘Good. Will you round up the free-traders on the beach or after they have taken the cargo to the Manor?’
‘On the beach, I think. I don’t want to give them the opportunity to take it anywhere else, I’d have a devil of a job finding it and proving it is contraband if they do. The usual trick is to mix it with legitimate merchandise to be taken inland.’
‘Bentwater and Spike may not go down to the beach themselves and, if they are not present, you will have a hard task provin
g they were involved.’
‘Then it is up to you to persuade them their presence is needed on the beach. You can do that, can’t you?’
‘Yes, if they realise the villagers have not turned out they will want to know why.’
‘Good. I will see you then.’
Stacey strode after Charlotte and the girls and carried on laughing and teasing them as if he had nothing else on his mind at all.
Immediately after they had eaten an early dinner at the Great White Horse, Stacey hurried to the inn where he had stayed the night and changed into riding clothes, leaving Jem to oversee the harnessing up of his carriage and saddling of Ivor. In less than an hour they were leaving the town and on their way back to Parson’s End, though now Jem was driving the carriage and Stacey was riding beside it on Ivor.
Julia had been overjoyed to see the horse and had patted it and nuzzled up against its neck. ‘Oh, please, Papa, could you not send Jem to fetch Ebony, then we could ride together? It must be wonderful to gallop along the beach with the waves pounding on the shore.’ He looked from her to Charlotte, the one eager, the other inscrutable. ‘Does that mean you are resolved to stay at school?’ he had asked.
‘If I could have Ebony, I would.’
‘That is blackmail.’
‘No, no, it is a promise.’
‘Perhaps I might allow it after you have finished your month’s trial and if Lady Hobart gives me a good report.’
‘But that is ages away.’
‘Nevertheless it is my decision.’ He had turned from her to pay the reckoning at the hotel, which Charlotte had allowed him to do only after a heated argument. Why was he always arguing with her? Why did she have to be so damned independent, and why insist that Sir Grenville had provided her with enough to pay her way and she was no longer impoverished? It was the last straw and made him more determined to have his own way.
It was almost dark by the time they arrived at The Crow’s Nest. Jenkins was waiting to help Jem see to the horses and put the carriage away. Stacey accompanied Charlotte and the children into the house where Betsy and Miss Quinn ushered the children up to bed. They were so sleepy they made no protest.
‘Thank you for your escort,’ Charlotte said to Stacey when they were alone. ‘Everyone had a lovely time.’
‘Even you?’ he asked quietly.
‘Especially me. I am sorry I was a cross-patch. It was not fair when you have been so kind.’
Kind, was that all it was? He smiled a little crookedly. ‘It was my pleasure, my lady.’
‘Captain Topham…He was talking about the smugglers, wasn’t he? Have they been? Has it all happened while we have been away?’
‘No, according to the Captain, they have been hindered by adverse weather. They may come tonight, perhaps not until tomorrow night. So please, stay indoors and keep the girls in, will you?’
‘Of course.’ Did he think she was such a ninny as to take the children down to the beach in the middle of the night? ‘What are you going to do?’
‘I am going to warn the village men that if they value their freedom, they, too, will stay indoors. I only hope they will listen to me.’
‘Why not ask the Reverend Fuller to speak to them? They will take notice of him.’
‘That’s a good idea. I’ll go now, before I go back to the Manor.’
‘Do you think Cecil knows that you know?’
‘Perhaps. I must let him know that I have nothing against free-trading. I might learn a little more.’
‘Would you like to go up to the tower and look through Captain MacArthur’s telescope?’
He had forgotten all about that telescope. ‘Yes, if they are already off shore then they may try landing tonight.’
She conducted him up to the room at the top of the tower and he spent several minutes scanning the sea and the horizon. ‘Nothing there yet,’ he said. ‘I doubt it will be tonight now.’
He preceded her back down the narrow stairs. ‘Where are Captain Topham’s men?’ she asked.
‘They are on their way.’
‘Then I beg you, try to make sure the village men are not involved. I should feel so guilty…’
They had reached the hall again and he turned towards her. ‘Guilty? Why?’
‘It started up at the Manor with Cecil and his gambling. I should perhaps have tried to dissuade him.’
He gave a low chuckle. ‘You could not stop him, no one could have.’
‘But you encourage him.’
‘No. The issue is more important than that. You have lost your home because of it.’
‘You are doing it for me?’ she asked in astonishment.
‘Not just for you.’ He grinned suddenly. ‘For me. One day I will explain, there is no time now. I must go.’ He reached forward, took her hand and, turning it over, kissed the palm. The touch of his lips sent shivers right through her body, convincing her, if she needed convincing, that her desire was still alive, still strong, still ready to engulf her. The only way to control it was to stand rigidly and pretend, pretend for all she was worth, that it meant nothing, that he meant nothing, that he was simply trying to rouse her for his own amusement.
He raised his head and looked at her, but she would not meet his gaze; instead she seemed to be concentrating on the pin in his cravat. ‘Good night, my lady.’ It was said softly, as one would speak to a child one wanted to soothe. ‘Tomorrow or the day after, we will have that talk and perhaps learn to understand one another better.’ He released her hand, picked up his hat from the table and made for the door.
‘My lord,’ she said softly as he reached it. ‘Be careful, please.’
He turned back to her with a smile that lit his whole face. ‘I will, my love, I will. Until tomorrow.’
And then he was gone and she was looking at the closed door, unable to believe she had revealed so much in those few words and he had answered as he had. Surely, surely it meant more than mere flirtation?
Stacey, smiling to himself in the darkness, walked to the village. Ivor was out of condition and had had a long run that day and he decided not to saddle him up again. There was still a light on in the Rectory and he assumed the Reverend Fuller was working on his sermon for the next day. He knocked and was admitted by a maid who conducted him to the parson’s study, where he sat at his desk surrounded by books and papers, with a glass of brandy at his elbow.
‘I am sorry to interrupt you,’ Stacey told him, wondering briefly if the brandy had had its excise duty paid. ‘But I need your help.’
He was invited to sit and offered a glass, which he accepted. ‘Now, what can I do for you?’ the old man asked, sipping his own drink.
‘Have you heard anything of smugglers in these parts, Reverend?’ Stacey asked.
‘Would anyone tell me if they were breaking the law?’
Stacey smiled. ‘No, but I am sure you hear things.’
‘Sometimes it is better to be a little deaf.’
‘Oh, I agree, but unfortunately there is even now a contraband ship approaching Parson’s End and the Coast Blockade have been alerted. There could be trouble and I wish to prevent it.’
‘And you think I can do that? You must have a great belief in miracles, my lord.’
‘Not in miracles, but in your powers of persuasion. I am almost sure the men of the village have been recruited as tub carriers and I hoped you would persuade them it would be a foolish thing to do and they had better stay indoors.’
‘The lure of a guinea or two might be stronger than my words, my lord. These are poor people.’
‘I know. But I want you to assure them they will be paid whatever they lose by not taking part. I do not want to see the men arrested and their wives and children made destitute. It will ruin all the hard work you and Lady Hobart have put in to help them.’
‘Ah, Lady Hobart,’ the Reverend said. ‘She is a splendid lady, full of compassion.’ Then he added with a smile, ‘Did you enjoy the ball?’
‘Very much.’ He won
dered if the parson was deliberately trying to change the subject. ‘I have asked Lady Hobart to keep the girls indoors until the situation with the free-traders is resolved,’ he said, reverting to the reason for his visit. ‘I have seen no ship close to the shore so I do not think it will be tonight, which means tomorrow will be a day of waiting. Presumably the village children will be doing whatever they usually do on a Sunday…’
‘Playing truant from church if they can get away with it,’ the Reverend said drily.
‘We must endeavour to keep them from the cliffs and the beach. Their parents too.’
‘I will send my manservant with a message to everyone that I want them all in church in the morning, even those who have not set foot in the place for years.’ He stopped to chuckle. ‘Then I will deliver the longest sermon they have ever listened to in their lives. By the time I have finished, they will be too afraid for their eternal souls to dare lift a tub.’
Stacey smiled. ‘I should like to hear it, but unfortunately I must ask to be excused. I shall be otherwise engaged at the Manor.’
‘Is that where the goods are to be taken?’
‘Yes, which is another reason for wanting it stopped. I know Lady Hobart does not live there now, but it was her home and her name would be connected with the scandal that might ensue. I wish to prevent it.’
‘It is a great shame she had to leave the Manor.’
‘That is true, but she has shown great fortitude and courage, which is why I would like to see those who used her so ill put behind bars, but not the villagers, whom she loves. You do understand?’
‘Oh, I understand perfectly. It is because she cared about the children that she stayed in Parson’s End after old Lord Hobart died when she could have gone to her great-uncle.’
‘Ah, yes, Lord Falconer. I collect they are estranged.’
‘Yes, I am sure he knows nothing of what has been going on. Once or twice I have been burdened with a conscience over it and wondered if I should write and inform him myself, but I knew such interference would not find favour with Lady Hobart and so I did nothing. I was prodigiously relieved when you arrived and seemed to be taking charge.’