by Mary Nichols
‘We dare not delay.’ Augusta was hurrying back to her own room as she spoke, followed by Pippa. ‘Once Ben has been sent to the Assizes, it will harder to get him set free. Where is Nathaniel anyway?’
‘I do not know.’
‘Was he on the beach?’
‘I did not see him.’
‘A fine kettle of fish this has turned out to be. I am beginning to wonder why I ever bothered to come here to live. You and your scapegrace brother both go your own way, whatever I say. You should have been wed by now and bringing up a family, not rushing all over the countryside like a hoyden and writing books. That is no occupation for a lady. No wonder Edward Cadogan changed his mind about marrying you.’
‘Aunt, that was six years ago and long forgotten.’ It wasn’t forgotten, not by Pippa, but the memory was too humiliating to talk about and it was better to pretend it was of no consequence.
‘Hmph,’ was her aunt’s reply to that. ‘Why did you go out any way?’
‘I wanted to know about the smugglers for my next book. Reading about them is not the same as seeing them on a dark and windy night with danger all around.’
‘No, I do not suppose it is,’ her aunt said repressively. ‘Had you thought of what might happen if you had been arrested too?’
‘It would be an experience,’ Pippa said, more to bait her aunt than because she welcomed the idea. She realised almost at once that she was being unkind when her aunt was so anxious about her son. ‘I was well hidden.’
‘No doubt that is why you have sand in your hair and all over your clothes. Go and change. If the Customs Officers come here, they will see at once where you have been. And dress respectably. We are going to pay a call on Sir Felix. I think a demure, frightened young woman will fit the bill.’
‘Aunt, I am neither demure, nor frightened.’
‘Well, you should be. Off with you, while I dress.’ She clapped her hands to summon her maid from the adjoining room, still addressing Pippa. ‘Go and tell Mrs Sadler we will breakfast early, then tell Joe to harness the carriage. We have not a moment to lose.’
Sir Ashley Saunders was breakfasting with Sir Felix Markham. Having been alerted by his informers that a cargo of contraband was to be landed at Narbeach on the north Norfolk coast, he had jumped at the chance to leave London for a while. His latest mistress, Arabella Thornley, was becoming more and more demanding and had broken the explicit condition of their relationship and was hinting quite openly that he ought to marry her. It was the last thing he wanted. At thirty-four, he was a confirmed bachelor and intended to remain that way. His previous mistresses had understood and agreed to bide by that and it annoyed him that Arabella should think she was any different. He had once been fond of her, appreciative of what she provided, but the prospect of making her his wife filled him horror.
Norfolk was far enough from the capital to afford him some respite; as it was currently being plagued by smugglers who were openly defying authority, he had taken the opportunity to investigate their activities. Arriving in Narbeach, he had made himself known to Sir Felix, who had invited him to stay at Narbeach Manor. ‘Can’t have someone of your rank staying at the Cross Keys,’ he had said, when Ash told him he was spending a holiday in the area.
Ash did not tell his host that he belonged to the Society for the Discovery and Apprehending of Criminals, popularly known as the Piccadilly Gentlemen’s Club. They had their headquarters in Piccadilly at the home of Lord Trentham, who had encouraged James, Lord Drymore, to set up the group twelve years before and it was now well established. Its principal members, besides James and Sir Ashley, were Viscount Jonathan Leinster; Harry, Lord Portman; Captain Alexander Carstairs and Sam Roker, Lord Drymore’s servant, who had been recruited in the early days because he was familiar with the cant of the criminal fraternity and could gain access to places where a gentleman would have stood out like a sore thumb. Not all of them were such masters of disguise as Harry Portman.
Each had their own area of expertise and each was required to promote law and order. They were not empowered to arrest anyone, but they would track them down and alert the watch or the parish constable or the army, who would apprehend the criminal, preferably with incriminating evidence on him. They were not paid for their services, but did it for love of their country and in a spirit of adventure, so it was important that each was of independent means. Ash had inherited a property and some money from his grandfather and had managed to increase it several-fold with judicious investment and was now prodigiously wealthy. He had joined the Piccadilly Gentlemen’s Club because the ever-increasing crime in the country was something that needed addressing and membership gave him something useful to do.
Lately he had turned his attention to the smugglers who operated along almost every coast of the British Isles. Like the coiners whom Harry Portman investigated, their activities were depriving the government of thousands of pounds of revenue and threatening to destabilise the country’s finances. With the army away fighting a war there were not enough troops to deter them and they mocked the efforts of the Customs and Excise men to catch them. The war, which had been waging in Europe for seven long years, had ended the month before, but the troops had not yet been brought home and only a handful of dragoons helped patrol the coast.
Ash was not concerned with the village men who took part out of necessity. There was little labouring work to be had in the winter months and what there was did not keep a man and his family in food, let alone other things they might need, like fuel, clothes and medicines, and the smuggling barons paid them well for their services. It was these barons who were the focus of Ash’s attentions. He suspected that Sir Felix knew more than he was admitting, but it served Ash’s purpose to pretend he believed him innocent, if not exactly ignorant.
They had almost finished their leisurely breakfast when a footman appeared to say Mrs Whitehouse and Miss Kingslake had arrived and wished to see Sir Felix on an urgent matter.
‘What can they want at this hour?’ Sir Felix murmured to Ash. ‘It is hardly a civilised time to make calls.’ To the footman he said, ‘See that the ladies are made comfortable in the withdrawing room. Tell them I will join them directly.’ Then to Ash. ‘I must go and change. I cannot receive them in a dressing gown. You will wait for me here?’ He did not wait for a reply before dashing from the room.
Ash left the table and wandered about the room, idly looking at the ornaments and pictures. There was one of Sir Felix with his family grouped about him: a wife, upright and unsmiling, and three girls, which must have been executed some years before because he had been told Sir Felix was twice a widower and his daughters were all adults with families of their own.
The door behind him was flung open and he swivelled round to face a middle-aged woman dressed in widow’s weeds, who had determination written on every feature of her lean face. She was followed by a younger woman, who was endeavouring to restrain her. ‘Aunt, you should not come in here. We were asked to wait in the withdrawing room—’ She stopped suddenly when she caught sight of Ash. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon.’
She was tall, he noticed, wearing a blue wool gown with an embroidered stomacher that emphasised a slim waist and an enviable bosom. Her hood had fallen back from her cloak and it was her hair that struck him most. It was a fiery red and so curly it had defied all attempts to confine it. It spilled from the combs that were supposed to hold it in a knot on the back of her head and stuck out in all directions. He took his gaze from her hair to her face. It was a perfect oval, with high cheekbones, well-shaped brows and the most brilliant green eyes he had ever seen. He was reminded of a ginger cat and wondered if this one had claws.
‘Think nothing of it,’ he said, sweeping her a bow. ‘Sir Ashley Saunders at your service.’
She curtsied. ‘Sir Ashley, how d’you do. I am Philippa Kingslake and this is my aunt, Mrs Whiteside.’
He bowed. ‘Your obedient, ma’am.’
‘We have come to see Sir Felix,’ the lad
y said, bowing her head in response.
‘He will be with us directly. In the meantime, may I help you? I am spending a few days with Sir Felix.’
‘No, we must speak to Sir Felix,’ Augusta said. ‘He is the magistrate and only he can help us.’
Sir Ashley was a handsome man, Pippa decided. There was a glint of humour in his dark eyes as if he would burst out laughing at the least provocation. It might have been that she had not had time to see to her toilette properly and her hair had escaped from the combs and pins she had hastily dug into it. Knowing she was visiting Sir Felix, she did not care that she was looking less than her best. If it served to put him off, so much the better! And their errand was urgent. But to find herself confronted by a vision of elegance in a superbly tailored suit of burgundy velvet, whose own dark hair was sleeked back into a queue with not a strand out of place, was disconcerting. He wore no make-up and his face was tanned as if he spent long hours out of doors in all weathers.
‘Ah, then, am I to suppose you have come to report a felony?’ Although Ash was addressing the older woman, his gaze was on the younger. He could not take his eyes off her. She intrigued him. He saw the slight expression of impatience she did not bother to hide and added on a sudden flash of inspiration, ‘Or has someone close to you been taken up?’
‘How did you know that?’ Augusta demanded. ‘Have you seen him? Do you know what happened? Where have they been taken? Are they still here?’ She fired questions at him, allowing him no time to answer.
‘Madam,’ he said, lifting his hand to stop her in full flow, ‘calm yourself and tell me what has happened.’
Whoever he was, Pippa would rather talk to him than Sir Felix; as her aunt had been forced to stop for lack of breath, she decided to explain. ‘My young cousin has been apprehended by the Customs, Sir Ashley. He is no more than a boy with a love of adventure and went down to the beach to watch a landing last night. He was not involved, simply a spectator, but the Customs arrived with a troop of dragoons and rounded some of the men up, and Ben along with them.’ She decided to say nothing of her brother whose presence on the beach, if he were there—and she could not be sure of that—could not be explained away in the same manner.
‘There was a landing of contraband last night?’ he queried, annoyed that he had missed it and wondering if Sir Felix had known it and kept him talking over supper to distract him from his purpose.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sir Felix is the local magistrate; the prisoners would have been brought to him to deal with.’
‘I heard nothing of it,’ he said. ‘Though my room is at the back of the house and Sir Felix might not have wished to disturb me.’
His host came in at that point, dressed in a suit of purple satin and a long matching waistcoat with huge pearl buttons. On his head was a hastily donned bag wig. He made a flourishing bow to each lady, before taking their hands and kissing them. He lingered over Pippa’s just too long for her comfort and she quickly pulled her hand away and surreptitiously rubbed it against her skirt, a gesture that was not lost on Ash. So, she did not like the gentleman, though he was obviously taken with her. ‘Ladies, I gave orders you were to be made comfortable in the withdrawing room…’
‘Sir Felix,’ Augusta said, having recovered herself a little, ‘we need your help.’
‘Anything, dear lady, anything within my power.’
‘You are aware there were smugglers on the beach last night and some of them were arrested?’
‘No, I was not,’ he said, affecting dismay. ‘Is there no end to their lawlessness? Have they harmed you or yours? If so, I will pursue them to the full extent of the law.’
‘No, they have done us no harm,’ Augusta answered him. ‘But Ben was out there watching them and was taken up with them. I did not know he had gone or I would have stopped him. You have met him, Sir Felix, and you know he is very young and easily led. I suppose he thought it would be exciting, he would not have thought of the danger. I felt sure the dragoons would have brought their prisoners here.’
‘No, they did not,’ he said. ‘I know nothing of it. Of course if they had, I would have rung a peal over Ben and sent him home. As it is…’ He shrugged.
‘Where would they be taken, if not here?’ Pippa asked.
‘Hunston, Lynn, Heacham—it would depend where the soldiers were based and the nearest magistrate. I will endeavour to find out for you.’
‘By that time it will be too late,’ Augusta wailed. ‘They will be sent to the Assizes and God help my poor boy then. What am I to do?’
‘I heard one of them say the goods they had seized were not worth turning out of bed for,’ Pippa put in. ‘He mentioned a chambermaid at the Standard in Wells who was keeping his bed warm for him.’
‘You heard them talking?’ Ash asked her in surprise. ‘Where were you at the time?’
Pippa grinned. ‘Face down in the sand,’ she said. ‘Hiding behind a dune.’ When she smiled her whole face came alive and her emerald eyes sparkled. She was, in Ash’s eyes, a remarkable woman and, in spite of his avowed intention to take a rest from the ladies, he found himself wanting to know more about her.
‘Miss Kingslake!’ Sir Felix remonstrated. ‘I am surprised at you. You are lucky you were not seen. The free traders would have had no compunction about bringing an end to your existence, especially if they thought you had informed on them.’ He paused. ‘Did you? Inform on them, I mean.’
‘No, of course not. I was simply an observer.’
‘They would not have believed you,’ Ash said laconically. ‘I am not sure that I do.’
She faced him, the humour in her eyes turning to anger. ‘I do not lie, Sir Ashley. I, like my young cousin, was simply watching.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘My reasons are my own.’ She did not tell him about her writing, which her aunt abhorred. ‘It would not be so bad if you wrote about feminine things, like housekeeping or embroidery or collecting sea shells or such like,’ she had said, more than once. ‘But to make up stories about war and pirates and highwaymen and things a real lady should know nothing about is not something to noise abroad. It will give society an aversion to you. It has already cost you one suitor.’
The fact that Edward had been horrified when she told him about her writing and insisted she stop it at once was only one of the reasons they had parted. They had met at her come-out year, introduced by a close friend of her aunt. He was handsome and attentive and before long was escorting her to functions all over town and had sworn his undying devotion. Her other suitors faded from the scene. Everyone said it was an ideal match and, not being versed on the ways of the world, she believed them, but after a while little things began to give her doubts. He seemed to want to change her, to make her into a one of those insipid, timid young ladies, without an idea in her head of her own. His insistence that she conform made her realise he did not understand her one iota and caused dissension, which was surely not right between two people supposedly in love.
‘If I could have rescued Ben, I would have done,’ she said, mentally shrugging these unconstructive musings from her mind. ‘But they would not have taken any notice of me.’
‘What are we to do?’ Augusta asked, impatient with the way the conversation was going.
‘I had better go to Wells and see for myself,’ Sir Felix said with a sigh that indicated a reluctance to do anything of the sort. ‘Lord Borrowdale is the justice there. If I can persuade him to let the boy go, I will.’
‘Oh, please do,’ Augusta said. ‘We will be for ever in your debt if you can effect his release, won’t we, Pippa?’
‘Yes,’ Pippa murmured.
It was obvious to Ash that the young lady was as reluctant to be in the baronet’s debt as he was to confront his judicial colleague. ‘If you wish, Sir Felix,’ he ventured, ‘I will go to Wells and make enquiries on your behalf. I am acquainted with his lordship. A request for the release of one of his prisoners might come better from me, since y
ou know the boy and your action might be wrongly interpreted. What do you say?’
‘Capital idea!’ Sir Felix said with great relief. ‘I should hate to be accused of being in league with smugglers.’
‘And that would never do,’ Ash said with a barely concealed smile. ‘I shall need one of the ladies to accompany me to identify the boy and lend weight to my argument. As Mrs Whiteside seems overcome, perhaps you would come with me, Miss Kingslake?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘How shall we travel?’
‘I have my carriage,’ Ash said. ‘It will take but a few minutes to have it harnessed and ready.’
‘You cannot go unchaperoned,’ Augusta said, suddenly recovering some of her usual aplomb.
‘Oh, Aunt, what does it matter? This is not London, nor even Norwich. I go out and about here unchaperoned and no one thinks anything of it. You take our carriage home and have Mrs Sadler make up a tisane for you. You need to rest. After all, you had little sleep last night.’
Ash found himself smiling again. He did not know how much sleep the matron had had, but Miss Kingslake, on her own admission, had been out on the beach, burying herself in sand while the smugglers did their work. How much sleep had she had? And what did she know that she was not revealing?
‘Yes, you are right,’ Augusta agreed. ‘I should not be of any use to you if I came.’
This arrangement did not please Sir Felix, but he could not object since he had said he was glad of Ash’s help. Instead he sent word that Sir Ashley’s equipage was to be made ready.
Twenty minutes later Pippa found herself sitting beside her escort in one of the most luxurious carriages she had ever seen. It had steel springs and padded rich blue velvet cushions, and it was pulled by a pair of matched white horses. Sir Ashley was evidently very rich, as well as handsome and agreeable. If she had not been so worried about Ben and Nat, she would be enjoying the outing.
‘Why do you suppose the dragoons took their prisoners so far?’ she asked as they made their way along the narrow coastal road that joined the villages and towns of north Norfolk. ‘Sir Felix usually deals with Narbeach matters.’