Smuggler's Moon

by Cynthia Wright

  “How kind the Cornish people are!” Julia exclaimed to Tristan two days later as they walked through the sun-dappled woods, down to Pont to feed the swans. “Mr. Platt’s generosity was followed by a gift from Mistress Thomas, the milliner. She made me take a new bonnet I’d admired, and when I was walking by the Higgins Farm, their son ran out with a bucket of carrots and blackberries.”

  “No doubt they are aware that his lordship is away and they feel protective of you.”

  “Indeed? I’ve never known anything like it before; certainly not in Bath.” She glanced over to see Tristan looking decidedly uncomfortable. “What’s wrong? You look as if you’re holding something back that you need to tell me. Is it bad news?”

  Quickly, he laughed and shook his head. “No! Nothing’s wrong. I was just—just wondering about the time.”

  “It must be midday because I’m feeling rather peckish.” She watched him as he went ahead to hold back a tree branch that blocked their way. Tristan was certainly a splendid young man with his wayward ginger hair, sandy brows over blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and square jaw. His tall, broad-shouldered frame lent itself perfectly to the dashing naval uniform he wore, and she couldn’t help wondering who might be a worthy match for him. “Do you ask the time because you have another appointment? With a young lady perhaps?”

  Color stained his cheekbones. “What a thing to say!”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me, my lord! No doubt every female in the parish swoons when you pass.”

  “The only appointment I have is with Lieutenant Lynton. He wishes to ride along the cliffs near Lansallos this afternoon.”

  “Ah yes, I heard from Primmie that a smuggling ship has been sighted in recent days, somewhere to the west. They say its captain is dangerously attractive!” As she spoke, they emerged out of the trees, into the sunlit meadow above the little bridge at Pont. The tide was in and the swan and her gawky cygnets were swimming near the slate boathouse, as if waiting for them. “Of course, Primmie is nonsensical. No one on shore could possibly view the captain clearly enough to see what he really looks like. Furthermore, smugglers are repellant villains, and it is foolish for anyone to romanticize them, don’t you agree?”

  He looked stunned. “Of course!”

  “I told Primmie that she must not dream of this pirate captain climbing into her bedroom window, for if it were to come true, he would doubtless be fat, toothless, and foul-smelling!”

  Tristan gave a nervous cough of laughter. “My lady—”

  “Do I shock you? Yes, I can see that I do.” With a playful smile, she reached into the pocket tied round her waist and took out a chunk of stale black bread. “Look how quickly the cygnets are growing! Won’t you help me feed them?”

  As they tossed bits of bread to the swans, Tristan surveyed the lime kiln. No longer in use, one side of the tall, rectangular tower was now covered with vines, and birds had built nests in its nooks and crevices.

  “I remember when there were lots of ships sailing up Pont to bring lime here,” he said. “I was just a boy, but the memories are quite vivid. It’s a shame that it’s stopped being used in recent years. Lord and Lady Caverleigh came here less and less before the accident, and the farm just crumbled away…”

  “Oh, I dearly wish that Sebastian would turn his attention from Severn Park to Trevarre Hall. There is so much here that we could use to make the estate profitable again, but he scoffs at the notion of managing a lime kiln and raising sheep.”

  “Yes, I can imagine him doing so.”

  “I am trying to accept the fact that I cannot manage him, and I shouldn’t try, but perhaps if you were to speak to him…? I know exactly what you could say.”

  Tristan had begun to laugh, shaking his head. “You are incorrigible, do you know that? What makes you imagine that it’s any different if you enlist me to make your arguments to Sebastian than it would be if you did it yourself?”

  “Oh. I see your point.” Julia flushed. “I can’t seem to help myself, after a lifetime spent arranging the lives of my family members. They were much more accepting of my directions than my husband is.”

  “I know one thing about Sebastian. He has a mind of his own, and he must reach his own decisions. If I tried to persuade him, it might make matters worse.”

  Julia cocked her head and gave Tristan a rueful smile. “You are right, of course. It’s a perverse trick of destiny that I find myself married to a man like Sebastian who is harder to govern than a wild stallion.”

  “No doubt there are lessons for you in this twist of fate.”

  “I am beginning to realize that.” Tossing the rest of the bread onto the rippling waters of the creek, she took his arm. “Shall we go back? I wouldn’t want you to be late for your appointment with Adolphus Lynton. Perhaps you’ll capture the smugglers and can regale me with stories when next we meet!”

  * * *

  “My lady, I just come from my cousin’s house by Gribbin Head, where I hear tell that the smuggling ship be seen again. They do say it’s near Polridmouth Bay, a perfect place for a landing!” Primmie had been nearly shouting in her excitement, but now she lowered her voice. “Cousin Martha whispers that the captain and his men be having their way with women all along the coast!”

  “Fairytales, I’ll wager, concocted by a lot of silly girls.” Julia finished the last of her oatmeal, which she’d eaten standing up at the kitchen worktable. On her stool was a box containing a tiny hedgehog, snuggled into a bed of grass and soft rags.

  “Martha do say that they call him Captain Rogue. Roguing be a nicer word than smugglin’ don’t you think so?”

  “What I think is that this conversation is ridiculous. Now fetch your apron so that you can help me clean the carpets. We’ll start with the big one from the parlor. I thought we might hang it over a low branch on the beech tree in the garden.”

  “Without a man to help us? What about Snuggs?”

  They both looked out the window toward the farmyard, where Mr. Snuggs was hobbling along in his red waistcoat, taking his time scattering feed for the chickens.

  “I don’t think he would be much use. His gout is flaring up, and as you know, Mrs. Snuggs has had an attack of dyspepsia.” She moved the box with the newborn, abandoned hedgehog, christened Henry, to a shelf near the hearth. “Be good and sleep now, Henry. You’re almost ready to go out on your own!”

  Primmie frowned, but followed her mistress into the parlor. Together, they began moving the furniture off the Turkey carpet. “’Tisn’t right that we be here without a man. Why’d his lordship have to leave, and take Keswick? What’s he want with Hampshire? It don’t make sense to me.”

  Julia wanted to reply that it made no sense to her either. With each passing day, she missed Sebastian more, yet also felt more resentful toward him. How could he leave her so soon after their marriage, and with so little notice? Did he ever ache for her as she did for him, and if he did, why wasn’t he there beside her?

  “Perhaps your Captain Rogue will climb through the window and come to our aid, Primmie,” Julia remarked with a light laugh. “Do you think he would object to carrying a large carpet into the garden for us?”

  “Oh, mistress, wouldn’t that be lovely? And mayhap he do bring us some port, and silk and lace…oh, and fine Hyson tea!”

  “Of course,” she rejoined, succumbing to Primmie’s enthusiasm as they began rolling up the carpet. “If we are going to have a fantasy, we may as well make it extravagant!”

  Chapter 24

  There was only a slivered moon to light the way when the Peregrine glided up Lerryn Creek. The hilly wooded banks on either side were black and eerily quiet except for an occasional call from a nightjar or owl. Because the night was still, the crew had put out the oars and were rowing up the creek. After a time, the boat swept around to the north, into the inlet toward a secret stone quay that was nearly hidden behind a curtain of low-hanging trees.

  Everyone on board was wound tight w
ith excitement.

  “My lord, we must confess,” Keswick said softly as he joined his captain on deck, “we rather feared that the Revenue men might be lying in wait for us when we entered the River Fowey. There is a perfect spot for them to hide their boat at Readymoney Beach, below St. Catherine’s Castle.”

  “Keswick, I must say I am surprised,” he replied drily. “You are as nervous as an old woman.”

  “We would have to be blind this past week not to have seen the Riding Officers on the cliffs, more than once.”

  “Have I not told you to trust me? They will not find us, and even if they did manage to do so—and board, they would find nothing.” Sebastian turned his attention then to their landing. “Ah, there is Penrose with the torch to welcome us. Now, let us move quickly. There is a great deal to do.”

  The crew had already begun to bring up the cargo from the hiding places between the bulkheads. Barrels constructed with spaces filled with lace and tea went out quickly, followed by smaller casks called half-ankers, containing more than four gallons each of French brandy.

  Sebastian joined Tristan in the clearing beside the quay. The younger man’s naval uniform was now replaced by dark, plain clothing that helped camouflage him in the woods.

  “Well done, my friend,” Sebastian told him as they shook hands. “We have had a smooth operation thus far. And you?”

  Tristan watched the crew bringing the cargo ashore. The men Jasper Polarven had recruited to act as tub-carriers emerged from the darkness to meet them, and the half-ankers were roped together in pairs on their backs for the climb up the steep path to the smuggler’s hole.

  “It’s hard to believe that this is really happening,” he said hoarsely. “It’s as if we’re characters in an adventure story!”

  “This is quite real,” Sebastian replied, his arched brow visible in the shadows thrown by Tristan’s torch. “We’ve accomplished a great deal with just this cargo, and there will be more tomorrow night at Coombe Hawne. There will not only be a fine profit for all of us, but I’ve also brought a shipment of salt for the local fishermen. No more pilchard need rot on the fields for lack of salt to preserve them over the winter, especially after we’ve made a few more runs.”

  Tristan nodded slowly. “It all makes perfect sense when I am with you, but your wife makes quite a different argument, and she can be very persuasive.”

  “Why does that not surprise me?” Sebastian laughed softly. “As long as she does not suspect what we are doing, you can listen to all the arguments she wishes to make.”

  “Will you come up to the smuggler’s hole with us? It isn’t far.” Turning, Tristan held the torch aloft and led the way for the tub-carriers and the carts that brought the bigger barrels. “Her ladyship has heard that there is a smuggling ship off-shore, but it would never occur to her that you might be the captain. On the contrary, she is quite vexed that you have gone to Hampshire.”

  “Ha! That’s good.” His gaze remained on the darkened path as they climbed a narrow path through the ancient woods. “Is she well otherwise?”

  “Quite. Last I heard, she had rescued a baby hedgehog that appeared to have lost its mother. Henry, she calls it. She is going to release it tomorrow morning.”

  Sebastian felt a stinging in the region of his heart as a wave of longing for Julia came over him. However, except for a momentary grimace, he went on as calmly as before. “And what of that buffoon Lynton?”

  “He and the others are madly combing the cliffs, but so far I have been able to distract them from the areas where they might find you. Also, Mixstowe has provided a couple of ‘informants’ to Lynton who have given him false clues.”

  “Excellent!” Sebastian approved in a mocking tone.

  They had reached the nearly indistinguishable opening to the smuggler’s hole that was carved into the hillside. Already the cargo was being unloaded and carried into the cave.

  “We’ll keep it safe here for the time being, until Mixstowe can arrange for the goods to gradually be transported inland,” said Sebastian.

  “No one will find it here. And, I found the tunnel that leads to Lanwyllow, so we may decide to make use of that.”

  “What would we do without you?” Sebastian put a dark hand on Tristan’s arm, then drew back to meet his eyes in the darkness. “I’ll see you again tomorrow night then. We’ll watch for your sign from the cliffs before we bring in a long boat to land on the beach.”

  “Until tomorrow night. Good fortune to you, my friend.”

  * * *

  “Good day, my lady,” cried Robert Mixstowe as he helped Julia onto the ferry from Polruan to Fowey. “Are you well?”

  “Yes, thank you, very well!” She certainly wouldn’t tell him that ten entire days had passed since Sebastian went off to Hampshire, and she had no idea when he was coming back.

  “’Tis a beautiful day for an outing. I’ll own, though, that I’m surprised to see you on my ferry instead of rowing your smart little boat!”

  “I felt like being a bit more sociable,” she said, favoring him with a warm smile.

  “Honored we be to have you, my lady.”

  It was a rather rough crossing. Pale gray clouds were scudding across the sun by the time they tied up at Fowey and Julia climbed the slate steps to the town quay. She wore a high-waisted gown of blue-and-white patterned cambric and carried a wicker basket over her arm. A fetching straw hat with a flat crown and some periwinkle ribbons down the back saved her hair from being blown into her face as she started up Lostwithiel Street.

  Although she paused as usual to look in the shop windows, a part of Julia was feeling restless. It had been a mistake to leave her little boat back at Pont, she decided, for it would have been a perfect day to row off on an adventure. Perhaps she would have drifted into a hidden creek and come upon Primmie’s Captain Rogue and his elusive smuggling ship!

  “Well, if it isn’t Lady Sebastian Trevarre!” exclaimed a familiar voice. “I wonder what brings that secret smile to your pretty lips?”

  Julia forced herself to turn slowly, still smiling. “Oh, hello, Lieutenant Lynton. I was merely enjoying the sight of these rare books on display.”

  “No doubt they remind you of your unfortunate father.”

  “You describe Papa differently than I would, but it is true that a fine book shop always reminds me of him. I was lucky to grow up in such a place.”

  “And now? Do you still feel so fortunate?”

  “I am well pleased with my life, if that is what you mean.”

  He took a step closer so that Julia was forced to back into the sheltered doorway. “Do you never regret your impetuous behavior, marrying his lordship to save your sister Sarah from him?

  “Sir, you overstep the bounds of propriety.”

  “But your own husband is famous for such behavior! I had assumed you must now find propriety to be quite dull.” His voice took on a menacing tone.

  Julia was beginning to feel a bit alarmed. He had boxed her in so that she was shielded from passersby. “You misjudge us both, sir.”

  “And where, may I ask, is your esteemed husband? His lordship is…away?”

  “Yes, he has gone to Hampshire on a matter of business.”

  “Are you aware that a band of smugglers has been plying our coastline in recent days? It is rumored that the one they call Captain Rogue is particularly wicked and merciless, especially in his treatment of women, if you take my meaning! I would suggest that you lock your windows at night, my lady. Perhaps you should sleep with a dagger?”

  Before she could reply, Tristan appeared behind Adolphus Lynton and looked curiously over the shorter man’s shoulder, brows lifted. “Good day! I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  Julia laughed with relief. “Not at all, Lord Senwyck! It’s lovely to see you.” She saw that he was wearing his dashing uniform again, complete with a bicorne hat that he carried under one arm.

  Lynton had no choice but to back away from Julia and let her step back into t
he cobbled lane. “You’re quite tardy, Senwyck.”

  “Am I? We aren’t such sticklers for punctuality here in Cornwall as you Bathonians seem to be.”

  “I was born here in Cornwall, you know. Just up the road in Bodmin. That’s what attracted me to a position as a Preventive Officer; I am determined to save my dear Cornwall from besmirchment by these nefarious smugglers.”

  “We are in complete agreement then, sir,” Tristan replied with a polite smile.

  Julia looked on, thinking that she had not known of Lynton’s connection to Cornwall. It was rather a relief to learn this, since it meant that perhaps he had not come to Fowey on her account after all.

  A sudden breeze, cool for a June afternoon, whipped around them, and Julia glanced up at the gathering clouds. “I see that we may have a shower. I hope you gentlemen will excuse me while I go inside to retrieve a book I’ve had mended.” She nodded as they bowed and wished her good day. Inside the bookshop, she paid for her volume of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, its spine now nicely repaired, and looked back outside to make certain that the two men had gone.

  Emerging back onto Lostwithiel Street, Julia started up the hill only to hear Lynton’s strident voice rising from another secluded doorway.

  “I tell you, they’ve been sighted off Polridmouth Bay! As soon as the other officers arrive, we’ll all ride out there together.”

  “But, sir, it would be far more strategic for me go ahead, alone on horseback, in case they are watching for us. Also, I may see something that will prove useful.”

  Julia crossed the street and hurried past them. The last thing she wanted to do was attract the attention of Adolphus Lynton twice in one day! As she climbed the steep hill, she could hear him ranting, “I mean to see that brigand swing from the gallows if it’s the last thing I do!”

  She was swept by a desire to keep walking, to stand on the cliffs and to turn her face to the damp breeze from the English Channel. The thought that she might even sight Captain Rogue’s ship was thrilling. She laughed at herself as she thought of Primmie’s name for the newly infamous smuggler and even felt a little thrill of guilty pleasure to be entertaining a fantasy about a man who was not her husband.