Smuggler's Moon

by Cynthia Wright

  As the other men rose and stood together, Sebastian shook their hands. “You know, I’ve half-promised my wife that this will be my last run, so we must make doubly certain that it is magnificent.”

  Jasper gaped at him. “Why’d ye do that?”

  “I am a married man. I’ve been thinking that perhaps I should behave like one.”

  As they filed out into the public room, Sebastian was too preoccupied to notice the sallow-faced Colvithick sitting in the nearest corner, drinking ale as he waited for his uncle Jasper.

  * * *

  “Devil take it, Keswick, why must you be so mysterious? I really didn’t have time to ride to Polruan this afternoon, you know. There is so much that must be done before we sail.”

  Sebastian and Keswick were leading their horses down one of Polruan’s steepest lanes.

  “We can assure your lordship that this meeting will be worth your time. You will thank us.”

  “Yes, yes. Has anyone ever told you that you have an inflated opinion of your own worth?”

  “Yes, my lord. You have.” As they laughed together, Keswick stopped walking. “Here we are.”

  When Sebastian abruptly halted behind Keswick, Lucifer nearly bumped into both of them. They stood before a plainly dignified two-story house built of rubble stone, the sort of house that Polruan sea captains had been occupying for centuries.

  “We will stay with the horses while you go inside,” Keswick said.

  Before Sebastian could question him further, the door opened and André Raveneau stepped into the summer sunlight.

  “Greetings, my lord,” he said with an enigmatic smile. “We meet again.”

  * * *

  Inside the cramped, modestly-furnished parlor at the front of the house, Raveneau brought a pot of tea and poured two cups.

  “I am surprised to see you here, sir,” Sebastian told him, stirring milk into his hot, strong tea. “Is your family still in France?”

  “No, they sailed home on La Mouette, but Keswick found me this house to let so that I might visit you.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “I had an idea that you might like to use another ship for your next crossing and so I have brought you my new sloop, the Raven, if you would like her. She is moored nearby, down Fore Street at the village quay.”

  “That’s very kind of you. And frankly, it’s an answer to a prayer. There is something you should know, however—”

  “I already know.” Raveneau’s flinty gaze met Sebastian’s. “You have been smuggling. I guessed that you would the day you came from seeing your solicitor in London.”

  Sebastian felt a thump inside his chest. “Indeed, sir?”

  “Yes, but it does not shock me. Long ago, I had my own smuggling adventures, but that’s a subject for another time. In fact, although I want you to have the sloop, I really came to speak to you about a matter of greater importance.” He set down his cup and rubbed his eyes with long fingers, then sighed. “Mon Dieu, there is no easy way to tell you this, so I will be direct. Are you prepared for a disclosure that will change your life?”

  Somehow, Sebastian knew then, before Raveneau said another word. He nodded.

  Leaning forward, the older man said, “It seems that I am your father. Of course, I have no proof, but the evidence is overwhelming.”

  Sebastian closed his eyes against a tide of emotion. Tears bit at his eyes; his throat swelled. His heart hurt with a sort of burning relief. At length, when he could speak, he looked at Raveneau and said, “Of course. Why did I not see it myself? That’s your eye on that ring. That’s why my mother wanted me to have it, why she gave it to Miles for safekeeping, she didn’t want to take a chance that Father would see it and—” He broke off. “It all makes sense now. No wonder he couldn’t bear to be near me.”

  “I cannot imagine that he knew. If he did, I think that Charlotte would have come to me and told me.”

  Sebastian sat still again, mentally scrolling back through countless memories, searching them for new truths. “Yes, you’re probably right. Father was such a bastard, he would have probably murdered her. But I do think that on some level, he sensed that we were not…connected. He always went out of his way, with cruel subtlety, to let me know that I meant nothing to him.”

  Sebastian saw the scar on Raveneau’s jaw tighten. “I am so sorry. If I had known, I would have acted.”

  “At the expense of your own marriage—and my mother’s? No, clearly she didn’t want that.” He sat back in his chair, still in the grip of a thousand emotions. “God’s blood, what a coil.”

  “But now your parents are both gone, and you and I are left. It doesn’t have to be a coil if we choose otherwise.” Raveneau walked across the room and returned with a bottle of French brandy. Pouring a small portion for each of them, he said ironically, “I perceive that tea will not suffice for this occasion, n’est-ce pas?”

  Sebastian laughed. “I fully agree.” After a drink, he said, “Will you tell me more one day, about you and my mother?”

  “Yes, one day I will answer all your questions.”

  “I have always felt a warm regard for you, sir, especially since we met again in London this year. I confess—” He stopped, knowing what he wanted to say, but held back by old fears.

  “Yes?” Raveneau prompted softly. A moment later, he added, “It’s all right, you know. I understand you because we’re alike. You’ve spent a lifetime holding your own feelings at a distance out of self-protection, but it’s all right now. You can say these things to me.”

  Sebastian’s eyes and throat filled with hot tears. “Yes,” he replied, his voice catching. “Thank you. I was going to say that your friendship, which you have freely given without asking anything in return, has been a balm to me. During solitary moments, I have reflected that you were the sort of man I would have chosen for a father.”

  Raveneau nodded, and his own eyes gleamed with emotion. “I am very proud that you are my son, Sebastian.” He reached across the space between them and put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “I realize that you are a grown man and you don’t need the guidance of a parent, but perhaps you will be grateful to know that now you have a father who loves you. And, you may call on me at any time, for any reason.”

  “But what of Devon? I would never want to be the cause of any pain for her.”

  “On the contrary,” Raveneau said drily, “it was Devon who forced me to face the truth and come to terms with this. Like most men, I am rather a coward when it comes to confronting emotional matters, especially when they might have an impact on the lives of those around me.”

  Sebastian rose then and paced across the modestly-furnished room. When he returned to stand before Raveneau, he said, “You already have a family. You have a son who has enjoyed your love since the moment of his birth. Nathan is your heir. Nothing must change that.”

  “I know that my other children would love you as the brother that you are, and of course Devon is already very fond of you and of Julia.”

  “That’s all very well, but I insist that this must not change their lives. Let your children care for me as a family friend. The rest shall remain between us and our wives.”

  When Raveneau rose and stood before him, Sebastian looked directly into eyes that mirrored his own. It was both unsettling and exhilarating to realize that this was his father, and that they shared much of the same emotional underpinnings.

  “I know that you sail with the tide,” said Raveneau, “and your time is short. Will you allow me to ride home with you and be there when you tell Julia?”

  “I was just about to ask if you would do that very thing,” Sebastian replied, amazed. He then thought for a moment of all the times he had stood before the Marquess of Caverleigh during his childhood, longing to be held by his father yet terrified by the thought of touching him.

  Raveneau seemed to read his mind. When he opened his arms and they embraced, Sebastian felt his heart clutch again, but then it grew calm. A warm sense
of completion spread over him as he heard his father murmur, “My son.”

  Chapter 32

  Dusk had gathered over the village of Polruan as Sebastian, accompanied by Raveneau and Keswick, left the Stag Inn after a hearty meal. The trio mounted their horses and set off up the steep lane, bound for Trevarre Hall, less than four miles away.

  At the same time, across the river in Fowey, Adolphus Lynton and Tristan Penrose were entering the Ship Inn. It had once been the home of the Rashleighs, the town’s foremost family, but Philip Rashleigh had moved to Menabilly, to the west near Coombe Farm, and now the stone house with its view of the quay was an inn.

  “I have a prodigious thirst!” cried Lynton. “I’m not certain there is enough ale in Cornwall to quench it.”

  “It has been a rather exhausting afternoon,” Tristan agreed.

  Seating themselves in the shadowy, dark-beamed public room, they ordered from the serving girl.

  “What I want to know is, where does that villain hide?” Lynton complained in ringing tones. “How can he make his ship simply vanish? I’ve just received a full description from the Revenue Cutter that nearly captured them just two nights back, and we know those thieving smugglers had to have made landfall, but where?””

  “I wish I knew, Lieutenant,” Tristan replied calmly. “I am as tired of riding up and down the coast as you are.”

  The girl brought them their ale and Lynton drank deeply, his eyes narrowing as he cried, “I find it very curious that Lord Sebastian Trevarre happened to be away in Hampshire at the same time our ‘Captain Rogue’ was conducting a smuggling mission. Do you not find that curious, my lord?”

  Tristan looked uncomfortable. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, sir. Are you implying that Lord Sebastian and the smuggling captain could be the same person?”

  “Perhaps, though it’s doubtless an idle wish on my part. I confess that nothing would please me more than to do away with him, releasing her ladyship from a marriage she entered into only to save her sister from the same fate.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “That’s right. Lord Sebastian wanted Sarah Faircloth for his bride, but Julia sacrificed herself because she knew that her sister was too sensitive and refined to survive marriage to such a libertine.” He held his glass up for another ale. “Perhaps you have forgotten that I lived in Bath. I was very well acquainted with the Faircloth family.”

  Tristan’s brow furrowed. “I’m not certain I understand what you’re getting at about Sebastian, but does it really matter now? I believe that my friends are quite happy together.”

  “He took her father’s estate, did you know that? Won it from him during a weak moment at the gaming tables, and it drove Mr. Faircloth to his death! I believe Julia gave up her own future so that her family might remain at Turbans, their home in Bath. It’s a palace compared to that ruin she is forced to live in now!”

  “I can only repeat that I believe them to enjoy a satisfying marriage.”

  “No! How can someone with the refined sensibilities of Julia Faircloth be happy with a rake like that, in so primitive a place as this? I cannot describe to you the joy she took from listening to me play the cello. Do you imagine that Trevarre has any artistic sensibilities?” Lynton laughed scornfully. What a relief it was to finally speak about this to someone! “Why do you think I came here? Of course, I was attracted by the Customs position offered to me, but secretly I have been fueled by dreams of rescuing my Julia from that devil.”

  “I see.” While nodding politely, Tristan consulted his watch. “It’s dark and I should be getting home to Lanwyllow. I hope you’ll excuse me, sir.”

  “Fine, fine, go on. I’ll just have another drink.” Lynton raised his glass again and the girl came to fill it as Tristan rose and took his leave, making his way between the tables filled with sweaty men all enjoying a pint after a long day’s labor.

  “You do hear me right,” a young man was exclaiming from a nearby table. “There were a real lady on board. Sailed with us all the way to France and back. But I must not say more! Cease your questions, Isaac!”

  Adolphus Lynton nudged his chair back so that he could discreetly turn one ear toward the speaker, just in time to hear him shout, “Mayhap it be someone you know, but that be all I’m goin’ to say!”

  Lynton signaled to the serving girl to bring the pallid youth another drink. When it arrived, the lad looked around in surprise and met the calculating gaze of Adolphus Lynton.

  “Drink up, son. I would have a word with you,” he yelled over the din. Lynton bided his time, watching from a distance, until he sensed that his prey’s companions were growing bored. Finally, he left his chair and went up behind the boy. “Care to step outside for a bit of air? I will make it worth your while, Mr.—”

  “My name be Colvithick, sir. Drew Colvithick.”

  * * *

  High above Trevarre Hall, a thin sliver of moon hung in the night sky, barely illuminating the estate grounds. When Sylvester the spaniel began to bark insistently, Julia looked up from the library settee where she had been sitting with her brother.

  “I’d better see what that’s about,” she said, rising. “You stay here and enjoy that book, Freddy.”

  “I shall be pleased to do so, for his lordship has a most impressive library!”

  Julia went out through the courtyard door to see a pair of shadowy figures making their way down from the stables. One of them carried a glowing lantern.

  “Sebastian? Is that you?” she called.

  “Yes, love.” He went ahead of the others and embraced her. “I’m sorry to be late.”

  “We had to eat dinner without you.” Searching his face, she added, “I told Mama that you were looking after estate business. They’ve moved on to a game of whist and Freddy is reading a book from your library.”

  “Excellent.” When he motioned back into the darkness, André Raveneau came forward. “We have a guest.”

  Julia blinked. “Why, Captain, what a surprise! I thought you and your family were still in France.”

  “They are en route to London, but I had business here with Sebastian—and you, my dear.”

  She felt Sebastian take her hand, his own fingers reassuringly warm and strong. “André has brought us a sloop to sail on this last run, in case the Peregrine could be identified. And there is more that you need to hear. It’s such a nice evening; perhaps we can sit outdoors.”

  He led her to the table on the garden terrace, set the lantern on the low stone wall, and the trio sat down together. Moments later, Clover appeared and, to Julia’s surprise, jumped onto Sebastian’s lap. As he absently stroked her soot-gray head, she began to purr.

  “I know that both of you have things to attend to tonight, and your family is here, Julia, so I will be brief,” said Raveneau. “Devon asked me to speak to you personally, though.”

  “I hope that nothing is wrong?”

  “Not at all.”

  She listened in growing amazement to his tale, and as the pieces of the puzzle came together, Julia felt a sense of warm elation come over her.

  “This is simply wonderful.” Looking from Raveneau to Sebastian and back again, she added, “It’s really a dream come true. You both are happy, aren’t you?”

  Nodding, father and son smiled at each other, and it was as if each of them were looking in a mirror.

  “I am beyond happy, as you may imagine,” Sebastian said with feeling. “You know what my feelings have been for the marquess.”

  “Wouldn’t it be splendid if you could cut all those awful memories loose and let them drift away to another place, far away from here?” she mused.

  “Splendid indeed.” His hand tightened over hers. “And in the meantime, this man, whose honest friendship I have come to value, has become the loving father I thought I could never have. It is a gift beyond price.”

  “A gift for both of us,” said Raveneau. “I wanted to tell you, Julia, that you may depend upon me, and all of my
family, to care for you as well.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “That means a great deal.”

  The sound of an approaching horse came from the darkened lane, followed by voices.

  “It’s Tristan,” said Sebastian. Setting the cat down on the flagstones, he got to his feet. “No doubt he has a report for me.”

  Julia stared. “What are you talking about? Wait—am I to infer that Lord Senwyck is in your service, rather than that of the King?”

  His smile flashed in the darkness. “I forgot that you didn’t already know. Yes, of course. You didn’t really imagine that he supported the views of that fool Lynton, did you?”

  Watching him go off, Julia sighed helplessly and looked at Raveneau. “It is the most frightening coil and I am sick with worry, particularly regarding this next planned smuggling run. Can you not persuade him to stop this madness?”

  “Ah, cherie, if either of us had the power to change his mind, he would not be the man you love.” His eyes gleamed. “Perhaps you were drawn to Sebastian because you sensed his love for danger…and you hoped to reform him?”

  “I don’t know if I ever quite thought about it, but perhaps there is truth in what you are saying.” Julia thought for an instant of her efforts to reform her own father. “Now that you put it into words, I can see that I’ve been foolish.”

  “Not foolish.” He reached out and touched her cheek. “I wanted to see you tonight because I have a piece of advice for you, which you are quite free to disregard.”

  “Oh, yes, please! I am longing to hear it.”

  “I understand Sebastian because he is my son; we share the same blood. The very best way you can help him now is simply to give him your unqualified love. If you release your hold on the reins, he will come to you of his own volition.”

  Julia stared at Raveneau, pondering his words. She thought again of how miserably her efforts to change her own father had turned out.