“Smile at me,” said Adam. “Act friendly.” Now he was just milking the situation, and he knew it.
“Excuse me?” said Laney.
“Just do it.”
Laney smiled. Through her grinning teeth, she said, “Fine. I’m smiling. What is it?”
“Richard Rasquelle is Mr. Rogers’s primary competitor in this town. You know that.”
Laney nodded. “I do,” she said, still smiling. “Can I stop smiling now?”
“If you want—but it’d be a shame. You have a beautiful smile.”
She made a face at him.
“Would you just listen? Richard Rasquelle is intent on spying on Mr. Rogers’s business until he has evidence that he can take to the customs officials.”
“Evidence of what?” she asked.
“Smuggling.”
“Oh!”
“He came to the tavern last night and told me that one of his men saw me and Martin come here on Saturday.”
“Wait,” she said. “Why would you have been talking to Richard Rasquelle?”
“That’s a long story, ma’am, and Emmanuel knows all about it, but I’ve only come over here today to warn you. You need to be careful that no one sees you do anything that would draw attention to the dock or the ramp leading down to the basement. Also, I just want you to keep your eyes open. Don’t go out alone. Strange men lurking around could be dangerous, even if they aren’t spying.”
“I never go down to the ramp or out on the dock, so you needn’t be concerned about that. I also have several servants who can protect me, so I’ll be fine—no need to worry about me either.”
“What about visitors? Have you received any visitors today?”
“What?” she asked, apparently caught off guard.
“I passed someone on the way here. I wasn’t sure if he was your visitor.”
“Mr. Fletcher, I’m afraid I fail to understand how it’s any of your business if visitors come to this estate, or with whom they were visiting. Don’t forget I’m not the only person who lives here. So does my guardian, Mr. Reading, as well as the staff.”
Adam took a deep breath. He thought for a moment before he spoke, certain that if he didn’t he’d be less gracious than he should.
“Miss Martin, I apologize if this is . . . well . . . out of line, but I just passed Francis Smythe about a mile from this place. Now I don’t know if he was here to visit you, but I do know that I saw you talking to him at Richard Rasquelle’s party. I also know that his father is the Crown’s handpicked customs agent for Port Beaufort, so you’re playing a dangerous game if you’re intimate in any way with that cad.”
She gasped. “Mr. Fletcher!”
Adam couldn’t tell from the look of shock on her face if she was more surprised at what he had said or at the idea she could be having any sort of personal relationship with Francis Smythe.
“This isn’t a game, Miss Martin. There is a lot at stake here—not the least of which is the future of Rogers’s Shipping Company, as well as the personal freedom of everyone and everything who has ever been involved with his clandestine operations. That includes you and this estate.”
“Mr. Fletcher,” she said, “I am well aware of what’s at stake. I inherited this business, shall we say, when my father died. I don’t need some bumbling apprentice coming here telling me to watch my step. I always tread carefully and would never do anything to jeopardize the relationships that have been so dear to my family since before I was even born.”
“Fine, but what about Francis—?”
“And let me tell you about Francis Smythe,” she angrily interrupted. “First of all, it is none of your business with whom I have relationships of any kind, but be that as it may, I was raised to be a lady and as such I try to be gracious with visitors—even if one is not an ally, per se. I would think it would raise far more suspicions if I suddenly began treating coldly someone to whom I have heretofore been kind. And since Francis Smythe’s father is who he is, you can be certain that I’ve always tried to be gracious to him, as well as to his father—as my father did before he died.”
“Fair enough,” said Adam. He was pacified with her answer.
Laney, on the other hand, still appeared to be angry. “I still want to know why Richard Rasquelle would have been talking to you at all—or the better question might be, why were you talking to him?”
Adam smiled, then glanced out the window to see if anyone was watching them. “Well, that’s a long story, but since you asked, I’d like to know why you were at Richard Rasquelle’s party a couple of weeks ago.”
“The whole town was invited to that party. I thought it would be a clever charade—showing up and offering my support for his business success. Emmanuel knows I’m loyal to him to the end.”
“And what about your guardian? Did he know you attended Rasquelle’s party?”
“Mr. Reading? Oh, heavens no. He was out of town. He’d have never allowed me to go if he was here.”
“Did you talk to Rasquelle while you were at his party?”
“Why do you persist in this interrogation? I think I’ve answered enough of your questions,” said Laney. “Yet you still haven’t answered mine. Why were you talking to Richard Rasquelle in the first place?”
“I told you. It’s a long story. Let’s just save it for another time,” Adam replied. “The only thing you need to know is that Emmanuel knows all about it. You just need to be cautious. Keep your eyes open.”
Laney stood up quickly. “Very well, Mr. Fletcher.” Her tone was curt.
Adam stood and smiled. “Good. And if you notice anything or anyone strange—well, stranger than Francis Smythe—just send one of your servants to let us know.”
“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. Then she walked him towards the front door.
“I do have one question for you,” she said. “Why did you bring flowers?”
“It was—what was that phrase you just said?—a ‘clever charade.’ If Rasquelle does have spies watching the place, it might make them think I fancy you.” He looked down and noticed she was caressing the stems of the flowers in her fingers, and he smiled at her.
When she appeared to realize what he was looking at, she stiffened and opened the front door. “Good day, sir.”
He tipped his hat with a smile and winked at her before he left.
Chapter Eighteen
EMMANUEL’S WAREHOUSE LOOKED MUCH EMPTIER without all of the casks that the men had been making. The first batch went on the Carolina Gypsy. The rest had been picked up and taken to fill with naval stores at pine forests owned by several families on the northern edge of town.
As soon as the Elizabeth Ella arrived from Liverpool, Emmanuel’s men would help bring in the kegs, barrels, and butts from the ship to the warehouse, then quickly load the locally filled casks from the warehouse onto the vessel for export.
Emmanuel had a time-tested system in place that left little room for error. Although the warehouse ordinarily seemed spacious, it filled up quickly when shipments arrived. If the available dock workers didn’t know where all of the incoming cargo was to line up, chaos would ensue, and the cargo wouldn’t be shifted with efficiency.
Although Adam had helped in preparations for the departure of the Gypsy, this would be his first time off-loading an import shipment and then loading the ship up again with local goods for export. He went through several trial runs with a couple of Emmanuel’s dock workers so that he could learn how the cargo got handled for both incoming and outgoing orders.
When Emmanuel had told Adam on his first night at the warehouse that he could eventually learn everything, Adam had no idea it would happen so quickly. He was beginning to understand that the shipping merchant’s business involved many skills. Anyone could approach a single trade and learn to practice it well, but a shipping merchant—an efficient one—should be a master of many trades.
He had to understand every aspect of the industry, from knowing the shipping routes and how t
hey are affected by ocean currents and wind patterns, to knowing the right people in the right ports for conducting business via correspondence. He needed to be familiar with the commodities that could be sold for profit abroad, but he also had to know how to help facilitate getting those goods to customers.
One key tenet of Emmanuel Rogers’s business philosophy was to make every effort to remove any obstacle to fair and reasonable trade. In fact, that philosophy was one of Emmanuel’s greatest advantages when he had first arrived in Beaufort decades earlier. He approached the smaller farmers with vast tracts of forestland and arranged with them agreements whereby he would find buyers for the naval stores they produced—the tar, pitch, turpentine, rosin, and such—in return for their commitment to sell their materials only to him. He sweetened the deal by offering his own staff of coopers to make and deliver the barrels for their wares—a great benefit to the new or small farmers, who were not yet able to hire their own coopers full-time.
Emmanuel forged many strong relationships very early on that had continued right up through the time when Adam came on board. It was for this reason that the old man seemed so elusive to those who had moved into the area in recent years—and Beaufort did have quite a transient population with the seafaring business.
It wasn’t necessary for Emmanuel to go out and sell his services to the people. That groundwork had been done early on, and any subsequent business came to him by word of mouth from trusted clients. In this way he was able to have his finger on the pulse of the town, and he knew what they needed to live and thrive in their otherwise inconsequential port village.
As the time drew near for that first ship’s arrival—at least it would be Adam’s first import vessel—he stood and marveled at the company of which he now considered himself proud to be a part. Excitement was in the air. The men in the warehouse all stood a bit taller, laughed a bit louder, and worked a bit harder.
Adam thought again about the contrast between Mr. Rogers’s warehouse and what he’d seen at Rasquelle’s operation, and it humbled him to remember how at one time he had wanted to work there. He considered how different things would be for him had that actually come to pass. Adam was astonished at how much his view had changed of the man in a period of just a few weeks. He had gone from admiring and even envying Richard Rasquelle, to feeling disgust and pity.
Thursday afternoon, everyone finished readying Emmanuel’s warehouse for the arrival of the Elizabeth Ella. Adam headed back to the tavern to eat. The men hadn’t taken a break since they started working before seven, and it was nearly three o’clock. As he made it into the center of town, he noticed a lot of activity over near Richard Rasquelle’s warehouse.
It was an outdoor sale. Adam had seen it advertised in the paper, but he had forgotten it was today. Apparently, it was a joint venture on the part of Rasquelle and Everett Bell, the man who had introduced him at the party. Bell had his own mercantile store, and it was in direct competition with Moore’s Mercantile, a shop that was one of Emmanuel’s best customers. There was quite a crowd gathered over there, rummaging through crates and casks full of all sorts of items—calico cloth, lace, brass ink bottles, teakettles, socks, tools, just about anything the townspeople could want.
Before he had gone to work for Emmanuel, there was no way Adam would have passed up an opportunity to browse through the wares at a sale like that, but he wouldn’t give Rasquelle one pence now. Nevertheless, he still couldn’t help but look over in that direction to see if he recognized anybody.
He did recognize somebody. But it was the last person Adam would’ve expected to see.
It was Laney Martin and Aunt Celie.
And was that Richard Rasquelle walking over in her direction? It sure was.
As Celie pulled out different bolts of fabric to examine them, Richard Rasquelle had approached Laney and was talking with her as if they had some familiarity with one another. It looked like they might have been sharing a joke.
She can’t be actually smiling at that man, Adam thought. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What’s wrong with that girl? First Smythe and now this. Being gracious is one thing, but this is a bit much. When he first met Laney Martin, he had poured on the charm—merciless charm that would make most of the girls in Beaufort blush—but Laney never smiled like that at him. Granted, Richard Rasquelle was a handsome fellow and ridiculously wealthy, but still, he was the undisputed enemy. Why on earth would she be standing there talking to him and smiling?
Adam decided he better not stand around to find out. He was getting angry. If he didn’t just walk away fast, he knew that he’d end up going over there and doing something rash. Still, there was no way he could forget what he had seen. He wondered if he should tell Martin.
Nah, he decided. Martin probably wouldn’t believe him, and even if he did he’d probably just make excuses for his cousin. He decided he would mention it to Emmanuel, though. The old man might want to know that the mistress of the property he was using for his second dock was fraternizing with his adversary.
⋄⋄⋄
When Adam got back to the warehouse, Boaz had already gone to bed. That wasn’t unusual for him. He typically fell asleep shortly after the sun went down. Adam was relieved this night was no exception. He knew it would be easier to talk to Emmanuel if he didn’t have to contend with Boaz’s added commentary.
Adam saw Emmanuel sitting in his armchair, struggling to study his Bible by the flickering light of his lantern. He knew what his master was reading without even having to see the cover, because the small text of the scriptures was more difficult for the old man to read than the larger text in his other books.
“Mr. Rogers, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but do you have a minute?”
Emmanuel looked up from the book and smiled at Adam. “Yes, of course, son. Come sit down.”
Adam took a seat on the settee next to Emmanuel’s chair.
“What’s on your mind?” Emmanuel asked.
He wondered how he would tell his master what he had seen. Finally, he spoke. “Mr. Rogers, I don’t know how to tell you this, but . . .”
Emmanuel closed the Bible and put it on the table beside him. “Yes? What is it?”
“I saw something today—something that I thought you should know about.”
“Yes?”
“Well, there was an outdoor sale at Richard Rasquelle’s place. And Laney Martin, she was there.”
“Yes?”
“And she was talking to Mr. Rasquelle.”
“Is she alright?” asked Emmanuel. “Did anything happen?”
Adam furrowed his brow. “Well, no, but—wait, you’re not bothered that she was there? That she was talking to him?”
Emmanuel wrinkled his brow. “My gracious, no,” said Emmanuel. “Why would I be? I’ve known Miss Rocksolanah since she was born. I would never question her loyalties.”
“But Richard Rasquelle—he’s a problem for us.”
“I agree with that,” said Emmanuel, “but nevertheless, he is still free to sell merchandise, and Miss Rocksolanah is free to buy from him. I’d never have any problems with her patronizing one of his sales. I know her loyalty to me, to this company, and to the friendship her father and I had is unwavering.”
“She was smiling at him, though,” said Adam.
Emmanuel chuckled. “I see. Well, that’s the real problem, isn’t it? If she had made an ugly face at him, you’d probably not be worried enough to bring this matter to my attention.”
Adam thought about what his master had said. “Maybe you’re right, but still, I was surprised she looked so friendly with him. And there’s another thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I think she may have had a visit from Francis Smythe the other day. He may very well be Rasquelle’s spy.”
“I very seriously doubt that,” said Emmanuel. “And I’m not surprised to hear that the young Mr. Smythe went to call on her. She’s a lovely girl, and he knows she’s single and close to his ow
n financial stature. There aren’t many girls here in Beaufort who would measure up to the necessary qualifications for someone like him. And regardless, I’m sure she was only being gracious if she received him as a visitor.”
“But his father,” said Adam.
“Quite right,” said Emmanuel. “If he did have an interest in Miss Rocksolanah, I would think the smartest thing she could do is follow the expected social graces. Furthermore, in spite of what you might think, Ellison Smythe is a good man. He’s not our adversary, son.”
“But he’s the customs agent.”
“Indeed he is. And he’s just doing his job. I’ve never given him any cause for suspicion since he’s been appointed, and he’s not been unfair or harsh in his dealings with me.”
“I see,” said Adam. “Still, I just think it’s strange that Richard Rasquelle must’ve gotten the word from someone that Martin and I were out at her estate the other day. Rasquelle’s claiming to want to find evidence against you for smuggling. Then I see Francis Smythe out by her place yesterday. And then I see her in town talking to—and even smiling at—Richard Rasquelle at his outdoor sale today. Far too many coincidences, I think.”
Emmanuel nodded. “I understand, but let me ask you something. What would it have been like if Miss Rocksolanah had been rude to Mr. Rasquelle? What if she had refused to smile and instead behaved rudely towards him? She doesn’t come into town often, but when she does she’s always a perfect lady. She was brought up well, you know.”
Adam looked away, unsure of how to respond.
“Adam, I think she is a clever girl. Richard Rasquelle would never even imagine that she could be involved with helping my company in the way that she does. She has always treated him and his business like she would anyone else in the town. The same is true for Francis Smythe, I would imagine. I think that’s a fine way to keep suspicion at bay, don’t you?”
“I reckon it is,” he conceded.
When Adam finally went to bed, he lay there unable to sleep. He turned and faced the slightly opened window and listened as a few heavy drops of rain began to beat against the glass. Before long there was a steady shower, punctuated by low rumbles of thunder. Usually it would be ideal sleeping weather, but as things were, his growing suspicion about Laney Martin and her troubling associations both worried and unsettled him.
The Smuggler's Gambit (Adam Fletcher Adventure Series Book 1) Page 14