The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1)

by Sara Whitford

“I’m fine, thank you, sir.” Her demeanor was understandably more reserved and formal than it had been when she was talking to her cousin.

  Martin put his hand on Adam’s shoulder and said, “I’ve brought this fella here because we need to get the second dock ready for a shipment. Prob’ly be here in about a week’s time.”

  “That’s fine. Here you go.” She reached into her apron pocket and handed Martin a ring with three keys. “Y’all shouldn’t need any help, should you? Most of my workers are out fishing today. I gave them the day off.”

  “No,” said Martin. “There isn’t much to do. We just need to make sure the basement is clear and ready for everything. And I need to explain to Adam how this whole thing works.”

  “Alright then. Well, just holler at me before you leave, alright?”

  “Will do.”

  Martin looked at Adam. “We better get to it.”

  “It was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” said Adam. He bowed his head, then stood and smiled at the girl. She nodded and raised one eyebrow and gave a half smile before closing the door.

  Martin grabbed him by the sleeve and said, “Come on, Fletcher. Let’s get to work.”

  They went about their tasks, making sure the basement was clear and that the ramp leading in was still sound. Then Martin explained to Adam the assembly line–type protocol they would use when the shipment arrived. It didn’t take long to do everything—not more than a half hour. When they finished, Martin let Laney know they were leaving, and then he and Adam climbed into the horse cart and headed back to the warehouse.

  Once they had gotten a good distance down the lane from the estate, Martin looked at Adam and said, “What is it? You act like you been burstin at the seams to say something since you met my cousin.”

  Adam was trying hard not to grin. He nervously scratched his temple, thinking about whether or not he should answer.

  “I might not should say this, but your cousin is really something else. She’s beautiful!”

  At first Martin gave him a stern look, and then he laughed.

  “I know she’s a pretty girl. Good looks come with the territory in this family, but you need to just go on and get that out of your mind. Ain’t nothing happenin between you and Laney.”

  “Why? Because she’s wealthy and I’m not? Or because she’s your cousin?”

  “Both. Of course. But things are more complicated than that.”

  “Complicated? How are they complicated?”

  “They’re just complicated. Leave it at that.”

  “I saw her before, you know,” said Adam.

  “You mean in town?”

  “No. Actually, I saw her at Richard Rasquelle’s house. He had that party there a couple weeks ago. In fact, it was the weekend I decided on a trade for my apprenticeship.”

  “Rasquelle’s house? And you’re telling me Laney was there? Nah. I don’t think so. You must be mistaken.”

  Adam laughed. “Martin, you’ve seen your cousin. Do you honestly think I could be mistaken about having seen a girl like that?”

  Martin narrowed his eyes and tipped his head in deference. “I guess not, but it don’t really make sense. Can’t imagine why she’d have been there of all places.”

  “I don’t know, but she was. There was this older couple there talking to her, too. But I don’t think they knew each other well—the Farringtons.”

  Martin shrugged. “I don’t know. Doesn’t make sense to me. Richard Rasquelle is a crook. Laney knows that. I can’t imagine why she’d go to a party at his house. In fact, I can’t imagine why he’d invite her.”

  “The whole town was invited.”

  “Even still. Why would she set foot on that man’s property? I sure as hell wouldn’t.”

  Adam just shrugged. He wasn’t going to tell Martin exactly how things happened that day at Richard Rasquelle’s party, nor how forward he had been in his attempt to meet Laney.

  “You know, come to think of it, I also saw her talking to Francis Smythe that day,” said Adam.

  “Really?” said Martin. “Ellison Smythe’s son, Francis?”

  “Mm-hm.”

  Martin wrinkled his eyebrows. “Well, if she was at Rasquelle’s party, I guess I ought not be surprised if she caught Smythe’s eye.”

  “Maybe,” said Adam, “but he acted like he already knew her somehow.”

  “Aw, well that ain’t too surprisin,” said Martin. “They probably move in the same circles. She might know him from when her daddy was still alive. He was friends with all of the important folks in a three-county radius.”

  Of course, thought Adam, she certainly hadn’t been moving in the same circles he did.

  “And it’s not a problem? With Mr. Rogers’s second dock being at her place and her being friends with the son of the local customs agent?”

  Martin shook his head. “Nah.”

  “Hmph.” Adam thought for a moment, then said, “What would happen if he ever popped in to pay her a visit at the same time one of Mr. Rogers’s shipments was being delivered?”

  “Aw, that wouldn’t happen. First of all, before a ship even approaches the dock at Laney’s place we send someone over there to let her know that one is coming. Then her servants secure the gate at the end of the lane that leads onto the estate so that no one—except us—can enter.”

  “I see,” said Adam. “That’s pretty clever.”

  Thinking about the day of Rasquelle’s party and how he met Laney had him thinking again about the party’s host.

  Since they still had a ways to go before they got back to the warehouse, Adam debated filling Martin in on what had happened earlier with Rasquelle, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it—at least not yet—so instead he opted to push for more information about Laney.

  “So you said the situation with your cousin was complicated. Is she already engaged or something?”

  “Oh, it’s a long story,” said Martin.

  “We’ve still got a good little ride ahead of us. I doubt it’ll take longer than that. And anyway, you ought to know I’ll just keep asking if you don’t tell me.”

  Martin rolled his eyes. “My gracious, you sure ask a lot of questions!”

  Adam grinned.

  “Fine,” said Martin. “Laney’s mama died about five years ago, and her daddy—my uncle—died three years ago. When he did, he put it in his will that whoever she marries will have to meet the approval of her brother, Will—he’s a lawyer in New Bern—and her guardian, Absolom Reading.”

  “Ah, well there’s nothing complicated about that. Sounds like her father was wanting to look out for her interests is all—make sure that no one comes along and takes advantage of her.”

  “Yeah. You’d think that,” said Martin, “but there’s more to it. If she marries without the joint consent of her brother and Mr. Reading, she loses her inheritance—the estate and everything in it, except for her personal items.”

  “You’re joking.”

  “I’m not.”

  “What would happen to it? I mean, would it all just go to her brother?”

  “Yep. That’s exactly what would happen.”

  “That doesn’t really seem fair,” said Adam. “I mean, wouldn’t that tempt her brother to not approve of anyone she’d want to marry?”

  “Will? Nah. He loves his sister. He wants to see her married and happy, and he sure don’t want to come back to Beaufort.”

  “Well, even still . . . Can you really do that? Write a will that cuts a person off from their rightful inheritance just for marrying someone you don’t approve of?”

  “Apparently. Her daddy thought that by putting that little bit in there it would discourage anyone who might be after her for her inheritance from coming in and trying to marry her just so they could get their hands on the property. Uncle William was no fool, and he knew if there ever was a man that both Absalom Reading and her brother could agree upon, he’d have to be someone really impressive.”

  “He
r father was just trying to protect her. Nothing wrong with that. I’d probably do the same thing if I were in his shoes.”

  “Well, there’s another problem. The complicated part is that I don’t think Absalom Reading will approve of anyone, because everyone knows he’s had an eye on her since not long before her father died.”

  “Her guardian?” Adam found this disturbing. “How old is he?”

  “About forty, I think. He’s right much older than her, anyway.”

  “Did her father know that this Mr. Reading had an eye for his daughter?”

  “Nah. I think Uncle William always just thought that Absalom Reading doted on her like he was family. My uncle was really bad off for a long time before he died, so he didn’t see what the rest of us saw.”

  “So that’s why Laney made that comment about only six more months, huh?” said Adam.

  Martin nodded. “Mm-hm. She’ll be twenty-one. Then she gets the house—tentatively. If she marries, so long as Will and Mr. Reading approve of her husband, then the transfer of the property becomes final—to her and her husband. Of course her husband would hold the title. I think she will have Reading out as soon as she can legally arrange it. Laney is a strong-willed girl. I reckon she’d happily live the rest of her life as a spinster if it meant that Reading doesn’t get any more say about her life. There is no way she’d go to him for approval of a suitor—I can tell you that.”

  “So she’d really keep right on living on her own, then?” asked Adam.

  “Well, yes and no. She’d be the lady of the house without a doubt, but as long as Charles and Aunt Celie are living, she won’t be alone. Old Charles and Aunt Celie have been owned by the Martin family since they were children and have always looked out for Laney and her brother. Aunt Celie was Laney’s nursemaid as a baby, and Charles—well, he’s just a good old fellow. They have a grown son, but he’s gone with Laney’s brother and his wife in New Bern. The two of them were almost like brothers growing up, and now he’s the overseer on William’s estate.”

  “And you said your cousin is a lawyer.”

  “Yep,” said Martin. “Uncle William was a lawyer before he died, and his father—my maternal grandfather—was also a lawyer, too.”

  “With all those lawyers in your family, why in the world are you working as a cooper?”

  “Because my father was a cooper,” said Martin. He smiled. “My mother didn’t marry for status, she married for love.”

  Adam chuckled. “Well, it’s good to know that does happen—especially for fellas like me.”

  “Me too,” said Martin. “I sure ain’t cut out to work behind a desk. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you. How is it you ended up at the warehouse, anyway?”

  Adam recounted exactly how he came to be apprenticed to Emmanuel Rogers, including how he had originally hoped he would’ve been bound to Richard Rasquelle.

  After hearing Adam’s story, Martin said, “Emmanuel Rogers is a great man. You’re lucky he was willing to take you on. Richard Rasquelle? Well, I ain’t got nothin good to say about him. He’s just a damned crook.”

  The warehouse was coming into view. Adam felt sick thinking about what had happened with Rasquelle earlier.

  “I know that now. Boy, do I ever know that.”

  He sighed, then looked away from Martin and gazed out into the distance at the warehouse, which appeared bigger and was getting closer with each clip-clop of the horse’s hooves.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Martin.

  Adam took a deep breath, then proceeded to explain everything that had happened with Richard Rasquelle earlier in the day.

  Martin was aghast. “Well, you have really made a fine mess out of things, my friend.”

  Adam nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

  “I mean, I can’t say that I blame you for going by there to talk to him. If I were in your shoes, I’d have prob’ly done the same thing. It ain’t like you really know Richard Rasquelle . . . what a crook he is. But then again, you know what they say? ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ Well, I’d say you done killed that cat.”

  Just then they pulled up to the warehouse and parked the horse cart. Before they got out, Adam asked, “What do you think I should do?”

  Martin shrugged. “I’m not sure, but for now I wouldn’t tell Emmanuel or Boaz about this. You ain’t planning to go through with it, are you? I mean, being Rasquelle’s spy?”

  “No! Of course not! Would I be telling you about this if I were planning on actually doing it?”

  “No. No, I don’t reckon you would. Well, just let me think about it some. Maybe we can figure out how you can handle this without everything going to hell in a handbasket.”

  They climbed out of the cart, and Martin tied the horse to the hitching post.

  “Alright,” said Adam. “I’m gonna go talk to Valentine about it. See if he has any ideas.”

  “You do that,” said Martin. “Go on. We’re done here for today. Go on and talk to him, and if I ain’t here when you get back tonight, we’ll just talk about this some other time.”

  Adam nodded in acknowledgment. He popped into the warehouse just long enough to get approval from Boaz so he could leave for the tavern.

  Chapter Eleven

  ADAM SAT ANXIOUSLY AS HE watched Valentine pace the floor of his sitting room. He knew his surrogate grandfather needed to be working at the bar right now, but Adam had begged him to talk in private for just a couple of minutes, so they had gone to his house, which was right behind the tavern. But after Adam told him about his conversation with Richard Rasquelle, it quickly became apparent that this subject was far too big and important to discuss fully in the limited time Valentine had available.

  “Remember what I told you?” said Valentine. “What did I say? Huh?” He was livid.

  Adam didn’t reply. He hung his head in shame.

  “I told you to leave it alone, didn’t I?” Valentine scolded. “But did you listen? No, you didn’t. I told you not to fight with that Smythe boy, but you didn’t listen to me about that, either. Where did that get you? Not to mention, where did it get me? Here I am with one less worker, and everyone thinks I was happy for you to fight that boy.”

  “I know! I know,” said Adam. He sank back into the settee and sighed.

  “When you didn’t listen about fighting with that little brat, that got you into the whole mess with that apprenticeship. And now this whole thing with Richard Rasquelle wanting you to spy for him? Well, now you really done it! You have just really done it!”

  “Yes! I know! I’ve really done it! But what do I do now? How can I fix this?”

  “I don’t know that you can fix this. You have just really messed up this time.”

  A painful silence filled the room as they both contemplated the gravity of the situation.

  “There has to be something I can do,” Adam pleaded.

  Valentine shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. But I’ll tell you one thing you damned well better do. You better let Emmanuel Rogers know about the mess you’ve made. Don’t you leave that poor old man to find out about this the hard way.”

  Chapter Twelve

  ADAM AVOIDED RETURNING TO THE warehouse right away. He wasn’t ready to face Emmanuel, and he certainly didn’t want to risk running into Martin if he was still hanging around.

  He didn’t stay in the tavern, since he knew Valentine was angry with him, and he didn’t want to get into a discussion about it there. He certainly didn’t want his mother to find out about it. Instead, he spent several hours just killing time down near the fishing boats.

  When it turned dark, he finally started the long walk back towards the warehouse. All of his thoughts were centered on how he could break the news to Emmanuel.

  Adam had barely made it into the warehouse when Boaz, who had been waiting for him on the main floor, said, “Get on upstairs. Emmanuel wants to see you.”

  He started up the stairs, then turned back to ask, “Is everything alrigh
t?”

  “That’s a stupid question, boy,” said Boaz. “Martin told us what happened. You best get on up there right now and tell him everything.”

  Adam swallowed hard and then ran up the rest of the stairs to the apartment.

  The living quarters were especially cool on this late-spring evening. Adam still hadn’t gotten so used to the world bazaar–like atmosphere inside that he took it for granted. Every time he stepped through the door, it made a part of him long to jump on the next ship and set sail for distant lands to see what exotic places he might discover.

  One part of the room was well lit with the flickering glow of strategically placed lanterns. Emmanuel was sitting in his favorite armchair with a cup of tea, reading.

  “Good evening, sir,” said Adam. He entered the room with his head lowered. “Boaz said you wanted to speak to me.”

  Emmanuel looked up and smiled. “Adam. Come over here. Sit down, boy.” He motioned to the settee beside his armchair.

  Adam went over and sat down. He noticed the book in his master’s hand.

  “What is it you’re reading?”

  Emmanuel closed the book with his finger holding his place inside and glanced at the cover before holding it up to show Adam. “It’s a book about chess. It was written by a Frenchman named Philidor.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows and pressed his lips together. “Hmm . . . Sounds interesting. I like chess alright, but I’m not very good at it. Would a book like that help me play better?”

  Emmanuel studied the cover again, opened the book just long enough to put a ribbon inside to hold his place, then put the book down next to the lantern on the table beside him. Adam had noticed that there were always two books on that table—a Bible and whatever other book Emmanuel was currently studying.

  “It very well might. Monsieur Philidor talks about how important pawns are in the game of chess. Says they are the very ‘soul of the game.’”

  “Pawns? I would think they’d be the least important pieces. I mean, you’ve got ’em all out in front and they’re the first to go before your more important pieces advance.”