Smuggler's Lair

by Virginia Henley

  Tory sprang from the bed and approached the door. The voices on the stairs told her that Captain Drudge was back. I must convince him that Falcon was neither pirate nor smuggler. Lord Hawkhurst’s noble reputation must not be smeared!

  Before she could open the chamber door, it was thrown open and she backed away as she saw Mr. Burke, Captain Drudge, and a militiaman on the threshold. Tory’s eyes flew to Mr. Burke’s. “Falcon’s gone.”

  “Lord Hawkhurst is deceased. Show some respect, Drudge!” Mr. Burke demanded grimly.

  “Good God, I suspected him all along. It was my bullet that killed him,” Drudge declared.

  “Nay!” Victoria denied. “Lord Hawkhurst was giving me target practice. I accidentally shot him with his own pistol.”

  Drudge turned to his man. “Arrest the whore!” Both pushed past Mr. Burke and came into the chamber, their purpose clear.

  Pandora lashed her tail and crouched. Then she launched herself at Drudge’s throat and sank in her fangs. Tory screamed and rushed toward the door that led up to the ramparts. She flew through the door and slammed it shut. Within a minute she realized that she had trapped herself up on the tower roof. She ran to the wall, looked down, and shuddered.

  She couldn’t go back. They would arrest her for Falcon’s murder and likely Drudge’s as well. Tory knew she was cornered; she had absolutely nowhere to go.

  All at once she heard Falcon’s voice. “Tory, jump!”

  With trembling limbs she climbed onto the crenellated wall, but she was rooted to the spot, overwhelmed by the height.

  Falcon’s voice came again. “Darling . . . don’t be afraid.”

  She wasn’t afraid of the water, only the height.

  “If you can’t dive, then jump,” Falcon urged.

  Tory gathered her courage, focused her attention on the thought of Falcon, and made her decision to place her trust in him, as she had always done before. She closed her eyes and jumped.

  The water of the moat closed over her head as her body plunged deep. She experienced an odd, out-of-body sensation and wondered if the impact had killed her. Tory felt strangely ambivalent. Without Falcon, do I even want to live?

  CHAPTER 10

  Peregrine Fuller was standing atop Bodiam’s round tower as he did every morning at this hour. The girl he had asked to marry him had disappeared more than a month ago. It seemed she had vanished while visiting his castle of Bodiam.

  The entire town of Hawkhurst had searched for her in Ashdown Forest and along the banks of the River Rother, fearing she’d had an accident. She had been gone so long without a trace that rumor had it Victoria Carswell had run away. Her mother, however, had different ideas and had charged Sir Peregrine with her disappearance.

  None felt the loss more acutely than Fuller. Though he’d had no hand in it, he felt guilty by association since she’d gone missing while visiting Bodiam. He harbored a fear that she had run off rather than accept his proposal of marriage. Each morning he stood atop the tower to look down at the river where he had first seen the water sprite bathing naked.

  Splendor of God, I think that’s Victoria!

  Fuller ran down the spiral staircase at full speed, flung open the door that led out to the stone balcony, and without even kicking off his boots, he dove into the moat.

  Her arms and her hair were floating out from her body when he grabbed hold of her and his heart filled with joy that he had finally found her alive.

  She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and the ecstatic look on her face told him how happy she was to be rescued. “Falcon, you are alive!”

  Tory clung to him sweetly as he towed her to the balcony and passed her up to his waiting manservant. Peregrine climbed from the moat and took Tory in his arms. He carried her up the spiral staircase and though her body was limp and her eyes closed, he knew she was breathing and that she would recover. He laid her gently down on the bed and turned to his man. “Go to the church and get Mistress Carswell’s brother Edmund.”

  Though Peregrine knew he should send word to Victoria’s mother, there was so much rancor between them that he chose to communicate with Tory’s brother instead. When his man left, Sir Peregrine stripped off her wet corset, wrapped her in his velvet bed robe, and then removed her wet drawers. He pulled back the covers and put her into the bed.

  Tory opened her eyes, heaved a huge sigh of relief, and smiled.

  “Are you feeling all right?” He was worried about her mental state. “You called me Falcon.”

  She stuck up her thumb that held his gold seal ring and laughed. “That’s your name, Lord Hawkhurst.”

  Sir Peregrine’s brow creased. “I have an identical ring bearing the image of a peregrine falcon.” He lifted his hand to show her. “Where did you get yours?”

  “You gave it to me. After you were shot. Don’t you remember?”

  The furrows in his forehead deepened. “Victoria, how did you come to be in the moat this morning? Do you remember? Everyone has been searching for you for a month. I’ve sent for Edmund.”

  Tory stared at him aghast. “God in Heaven, you are not Falcon, you are Peregrine. I’ve come back in time!” She turned her face into her pillow and began to sob.

  Sir Peregrine felt alarmed. The things she said didn’t quite make sense. When he dived into the moat to save her, she had seemed ecstatic, but now she seemed overwhelmed with grief. Her sorrow touched his heart. He had no idea what was wrong, but more than anything he wanted Victoria to be happy. He took dry garments from his wardrobe and went below to change from his soggy clothes. When he returned she was still crying.

  Eventually she stopped sobbing. She lifted her face from the pillow and gave him a withering glance.

  “Something’s wrong. Can you tell me what it is?” he asked.

  “I don’t want you to be Peregrine! I want you to be Falcon!” she cried passionately.

  “I’ll be Falcon if you wish it. The name is interchangeable.”

  “Don’t patronize me, Sir.”

  He was saved from having to make a reply when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He opened the chamber door to admit his manservant with Victoria Carswell’s brother on his heels.

  “You’ve found her. Heaven be praised.” Edmund strode to the bed, took his sister’s hand, and brushed the wet hair from her brow. “Tory, are you all right? Where on earth have you been?”

  A lump came into her throat at the sight of her brother’s face. It reflected love and relief in equal measure.

  “I went back a hundred years in time, Edmund. It was unbelievable! I traveled back to 1737 when Falcon, Lord Hawkhurst, owned Bodiam Castle.”

  Edmund glanced at Sir Peregrine with alarm. “She’s had some sort of a shock, I believe. We had better get the doctor.”

  “Yes, I agree completely, Reverend Carswell. I held off sending for him until you got here.” He turned to his servant. “Mr. de Burgh, would you kindly take a note to Doctor Cowper?”

  “De Burgh?” Tory stared at the servant. “Isn’t that French for Burke?” she asked.

  “Yes, de Burgh is Norman French. In English it is Burke.”

  “Do you remember me, Mr. Burke?”

  “Of course, Miss Carswell. We met when you visited Bodiam Castle on two occasions in September.”

  Tory shook her head in exasperation. Why can’t I make them understand? “Do you see these exotic Chinese jade earrings? Falcon gave them to me. His sailing ship was the Seacock.”

  She saw her brother and Sir Peregrine exchange another look. “I know I am asking you to suspend your belief in all that’s rational, but I did go back in time. That’s where I’ve been for a month. Bodiam Castle was magnificent a hundred years ago. Every chamber was furnished with as many authentic artifacts as when it was originally built in the fourteenth century. Don’t you see I am the only one who has the knowledge to restore the castle?”

  “Well, wherever you’ve been, Tory, I’m glad you are back,” Edmund declared. “I must go and tell M
other that you are safe.”

  Victoria sighed. “Yes, of course you must. Would you bring some of my clothes? I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “I didn’t realize. I will accompany Mother. . . . You’ll need a buffer against her inevitable outrage, I’m afraid.”

  “Edmund, you are a dear brother, but I am not afraid of Mother. Not anymore. Her values and mine are not the same. Actually, they never have been. I’ll face her and answer all her questions. Perhaps it’s wicked of me, but I’m rather looking forward to it.”

  Edmund left to apprise their mother of the situation and Mr. de Burgh went to fetch the doctor. Alone with Sir Peregrine, Victoria stared at him, comparing him with Falcon. He was the same age and had the same powerful build. Their dark eyes and hair were indistinguishable. His looks were almost identical to Falcon’s and Tory resented him for it.

  She lowered her lashes to mask her true feelings. “Thank you for helping me. Since I disappeared on the day I visited Bodiam, it must have been disquieting for you, to say the least.”

  His dark eyes searched her face. “How did you come to be in the castle moat this morning?”

  “I jumped from the round tower.”

  “My tower?”

  Tory raised her lashes. “It was Falcon’s tower.”

  “It is over sixty feet high,” he pointed out.

  “Yes, I was afraid to jump, but Falcon promised to catch me.”

  “I see.”

  It was you who were there for me. Though I don’t want to admit it, you and Falcon are the same man.

  “Why don’t you rest until the doctor arrives?”

  “Thank you.” She watched him leave and close the chamber door. Her glance traveled around the room. The furnishings were not the same, although his wardrobe and his desk occupied the same places that Falcon’s had. She raised her arm and sniffed the sleeve of the velvet robe. His evocative male scent was identical and her heart ached at the poignant memento.

  Her mind drifted off to that other time; looking back, it seemed mystical and yet it had been so real, she could still taste it and smell it. Her emotions were bittersweet, for she sensed that she would never be able to go back again.

  Tory’s mind gradually came back to the present time. She got out of bed and observed herself in the looking glass. Her hair was a dreadful mess, so she picked up a towel from the washstand and began to rub it through her long, dark tresses. When she heard voices on the stairs she dropped the towel and hurried back to bed. She heard a polite knock and called, “Come in.”

  Sir Peregrine entered, along with Dr. Cowper and a young female servant. The maid was the one who had been in attendance at dinner the night Victoria had been invited to dine at Bodiam.

  Tory made up her mind in an instant. The only person I want to convince that I’ve been back in time is Sir Peregrine. Since I stand no chance of convincing anyone else, I won’t even try.

  Dr. Cowper stood beside the bed and looked down at her. “Mistress Carswell, how are you feeling, my dear?”

  “I am a little weary, doctor, but otherwise I feel quite well.”

  Cowper lifted her eyelids, then asked her to open her mouth so he could look down her throat. “No bangs or scrapes to complain of?” When she shook her head, he took his stethoscope from his bag and listened to her chest. “Breathe deeply, please.” He bade her turn around and listened to her back while he tapped it.

  The doctor put away his instrument. “I can find no physical symptoms of illness. Your health seems excellent, my dear.” He cleared his throat. “Have you any idea where you have been for the last month, Mistress Carswell?”

  Tory smiled at the doctor. “I’m sorry, I can’t remember.”

  “Ah yes. I’ve heard of cases like this, though I’ve never encountered anyone with such a memory loss before. Sir Peregrine pulled you from the moat this morning. Are you sure you recall nothing before that moment?”

  She looked at him trustingly, with wide eyes. “The last thing I recall is being at Bodiam Castle.” She glanced at Sir Peregrine and saw his shrewd eyes watching her. He knows exactly what I’m doing, but he’s too gallant to call me a liar.

  They heard voices outside the chamber and all recognized the bell-like tones of Edwina Carswell. Mr. de Burgh opened the door and cast an apologetic look at Sir Peregrine.

  “Lady Carswell, do come in,” Fuller invited.

  Of course she was already in before the invitation left his lips. The long-suffering young reverend brought up the rear carrying a wicker basket that held some of his sister’s garments.

  “In the name of all that is decent and holy, I demand to know where you have been, Victoria!”

  “Do you, Mother?”

  Edwina elbowed Dr. Cowper aside. “What are you doing in Sir Peregrine Fuller’s bed?”

  Tory’s glance swept the chamber. “I seem to be holding court.”

  “I will not suffer insolence from a daughter who has brought disgrace upon her family.”

  The doctor spoke up. “Mistress Carswell is not herself at the moment. She is abed because I have prescribed rest.”

  “Doctor Cowper, I demand that you examine my daughter to ascertain if she is still a maiden. I suspect she has been in this castle for the past month with the connivance of Fuller. If he has taken advantage of her innocence, I demand satisfaction.”

  Victoria blushed deep pink. “Mother, how could you humiliate me like this before everyone?”

  “Humiliate? I am the one who has been humiliated and shamed by your scandalous behavior, you young strumpet! Examine her immediately, doctor.”

  Sir Peregrine stepped between Edwina and the doctor. “That will not be necessary, madam. I have every intention of asking Victoria to marry me. There will be no scandal unless you make one, Lady Carswell.”

  “Humph, an offer of marriage is the only decent thing you can do. Keeping her at Bodiam Castle naked, without a stitch of clothing for a month! I cannot imagine what has gone on here.”

  “Can you not, Mother?”

  Edwina turned to her son. “Edmund, you will marry them now.”

  Tory said, “He will not. I have not consented to a marriage.”

  “But you will . . . you must,” Edwina declared emphatically.

  “Must I, indeed? This is a private matter between Sir Peregrine and me. I think I’ll take the doctor’s advice and rest now. Goodbye, Mother. Thank you for bringing my clothes, Edmund.”

  After they left, Tory stayed in bed for an hour, but her thoughts were running in circles, with the past crowding out the present. She felt a compulsion to get on with her future, but the siren song of the past called to her. She reminded herself that there really was no past, present, and future—they were all one. If she held on to this idea she’d be able to embrace all three.

  She got out of bed and called for a bath. She washed her hair and wrapped her head in a towel, then she opened the wicker basket of clothes that Edmund had brought. As she lifted out each garment she became dismayed that she had ever worn such unflattering dresses. Finally the dismay turned to laughter. Who on earth dictates the clothes that Victorian women wear? Surely it’s not the young queen? The high, frilled necklines, leg-of-mutton sleeves, and voluminous skirts covered every inch of skin beneath the chin that a female possessed. Even the colors were either dark or drab, which only added to her amusement. Every garment I own serves as a horrible example of what not to wear!

  She chose the dress that was the least offensive shade. It was the pale mauve cambric she had worn the first time she’d come to the castle and it gave her pleasure only because it matched the color of her eyes. She took her brush from the basket and stroked her dark hair until it crackled. She smiled at her reflection as she remembered what Falcon had said the first time he saw her: Why d’you wear your hair screwed into a knob? Tory tossed her tresses over her shoulder. No more knobs for me, Falcon my love!

  Tory could not resist going up the steps and out onto the tower roof. Right
away she could see that Ashdown Forest had been cut back from where it was a hundred years ago and the sprawling town of Hawkhurst was no longer a village. She walked across to the river side of the castle and saw the Rother had changed little.

  She gazed down into the moat. It was a long way down and she marveled at the courage she had summoned to make the jump. She suddenly realized that this was where Sir Peregrine must have been standing this morning when he saw her in the moat.

  I stood here, too, with no escape but the water below. How curious—we must have occupied the same space at the same time. I know we are inextricably connected, but can I make him believe? Victoria smiled her secret smile. Teaching Peregrine that he was Falcon would be the challenge of a lifetime.

  She felt his presence before she saw him. He came toward her across the crenellated roof. “I am delighted to see you have recovered, Mistress Carswell.”

  “My name is Tory, as well you know.” She swept out her hand. “Ashdown Forest is wearing her brilliant autumn colors. It is no wonder you like to stand atop this tower. The view is breathtaking.” She pointed to the river. “That’s where the Seacock was moored.”

  “I have imagined it often. Did you know that the ship’s bell beside the portcullis is the Seacock’s bell? It came into the foundry one day as scrap metal and I rescued it.”

  “That’s amazing . . . yet not amazing. Did you know that Lord Hawkhurst’s name was Peregrine Palmer?”

  “Since I am Peregrine Palmer Fuller, he was obviously my ancestor.”

  “Falcon is much more than your ancestor. . . . He is you, and you are he. His soul has been reborn in you. Do you believe that such a thing could be possible?”

  He looked at her for a long time. “I like to think I have an open mind. I believe it is no more amazing to be born twice than to be born once.”

  “Your gold ring . . . how long have you had it?”

  He looked at his hand. “I had it made about ten years ago. A peregrine falcon seemed to be an apt symbol for a seal ring.”

  Tory raised her hand and lifted her thumb so that they could compare the gold rings. “The two are identical, not only in design but also in size. Do you not find that curious?”