She smiled when she heard the rapid thud of footsteps behind her and knew that Billy had snuck out of the front door again. Mother would be angry and would scold him when he returned, but she could understand Billy wanting to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine for a while, especially after the tension of the morning.
“Kat! Wait! I want to talk to you.”
She sighed, knowing that he hadn’t forgotten the argument about his joining the smugglers. She felt some of her joy dwindle a little but valiantly tried to hold on to her patience as she slowed her gait to allow her brother to catch up.
“Look, Billy, I know you want to join the smugglers,” Kat murmured to him when he slammed to a stop beside her. She felt him tense beneath the hand she placed on his shoulder, and knew that he was going to object. She silenced him with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. “Right now, I work at night as you know.”
“Sis,” Billy sighed.
“Listen to me, Billy.” Kat tossed her head to flick stray strands of her hair out of her eyes and stared down at her younger brother. The stiff breeze coming of the sea held a hint of the future storm that lurked on the horizon, but neither of them gave it a second glance. “I work until late, and we really cannot leave mother alone in the house overnight. With the threat of the excise men appearing at a moment’s notice, I need someone responsible; a man in the house, to keep mother safe.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “I cannot be there because we cannot do without my wages, so the responsibility of running the house falls upon you.”
She mentally heaved a sigh of relief when Billy’s chest puffed out importantly and he straightened his spine. “I know you want to join the crews but, right now, with the excise men breathing down our necks, I need you at home. Mother needs someone reliable to help her.”
“Of course, I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Billy sighed. He was a little disappointed but could see Kat’s logic. Mother would get stuck going up the chimney. It was a hiding place that only Billy could reach, and it was the only place they had in the house that was big enough to hold the bolts of cloth. “Alright,” he replied, kicking dejectedly at the stones beneath their feet. “For now, I will stay with mother.” He turned to glare at her defiantly. “When I am older though, I am definitely going out.”
Kat nodded absently and glanced up as a flurry of movement across the harbour caught her eye. Her heart lodged in her throat at the familiar sight of Jonathan Arbinger who was riding around the harbour toward them. She glanced down at Billy’s disparaging snort and smiled distractedly at him.
“I take it you don’t like him,” Kat muttered. She tried hard not to stare at the handsome vision Jonathan made riding astride the huge chestnut horse.
“Flaming nabob,” Billy snapped in disgust.
“Billy Baird, don’t you dare use swear words like that,” she chastised him.
“Morning Catherine, Billy,” Jonathan drawled, slowing his horse to a walk. He nodded amiably as he passed, but made no attempt to stop. The glance he flicked at Billy was brief. All of his senses were tuned to the beautiful young woman battling with the fly away strands of hair tickling her cheeks. His fingers tightened on the reins with the urge to reach out and stroke them away. The opportunity to study her was far too brief as far as he was concerned, and it was a wrench to have to turn his gaze away once he had passed them. He had to struggle with the urge to turn back to see if she was looking and, instead, turned to nod at Mrs Fitzsimmons in the shop. Uncharacteristically, he paused to chat to the woman. Although her general enquiry as to the health of his uncle didn’t warrant him stopping, he took the excuse to be able to turn sideways in the saddle and pass the time of day with the elderly woman who stood in the shop doorway. He flicked the much needed glance behind him, and watched Catherine walk with her brother around the harbour toward the Shipwright Inn where she worked. She moved with an effortless grace that was most soothing on the eye, and he sighed regretfully when she moved into the darkened doorway of the drinking establishment and out of sight.
He had loved Catherine Baird since the first moment he had clapped eyes on her when he was nine years old. He had been playing in the orchard when she had come to Dentham Hall, his family home, with her mother to speak to the cook about the arrangements for the harvest festival. The family always provided the use of one of the fields for the locals to hold their annual celebration that marked the end of the gathering of the harvest. Although he hadn’t spoken to her, she being six years old at the time, he had never forgotten the soul-less dark eyes in the pixie-like face that was embraced by those riotous curls that had haunted his every waking moment ever since. Most of his evening at the harvest festival that year, and every year since, had been spent swooning over her from a distance. He had watched her laugh and dance with a youthful enthusiasm that had been infectious, and he had found himself envying her for her familiarity with the locals, and envying the locals for their familiarity with her. He had spent several weeks afterward asking questions about her and making any excuse possible to head into the village in the hope of catching sight of her.
Although he hadn’t realised it at the time, on each occasion he had seen her, he had fallen in love just a little bit more. Now, as a grown man, his adventures had taken him to numerous continents, and he had experienced many, many adventures; some better than others. However, he had never forgotten the place called home, or the one particular woman who drew him to return time and again. He knew that at some point in the not too distant future, the expectancy on him to continue the family name would call upon him to select a wife and settle down but, right now, he couldn’t countenance that wife being anyone other than Catherine Baird.
Although how he went about capturing her interest, he had no idea. As a well travelled man of the world, he was not unfamiliar with women, and had sampled his fair share however, those had been physical dalliances. None of them had ever touched his heart and, he suspected, no woman except for Kat, ever would.
“Please send my regards to your uncle, my lord,” Mrs Fitzsimmons sighed, and nodded respectfully at him. She beamed from ear to ear with pride that the Lord from Dentham Hall, had stopped to converse with her.
“I will, Mrs Fizsimmons, thank you.” He turned to scowl at an altercation further around the harbour, and watched as excise men stormed into one house whose owner was protesting his innocence, and the frequency in which his home was invaded.
Jonathan frowned and nodded toward the house as he caught one word. “Again?”
“Second time in two weeks,” Mrs Fizsimmons replied with a sigh. “I have no idea what they are searching for, but they seem to have it in their heads that we have something to hide.”
Jonathan studied the secretive twinkle in the older woman’s eye. His interest was piqued at the suspicious glint he saw lurking in her rheumy depths. He knew what she was hinting at and lifted his brow in astonishment. “I take it that there is nothing to find?” He heard the woman cough uncomfortably and saw the shadows shift inside the shop. Someone murmured something, but Jonathan didn’t catch what was being said. He studied the excise men piling into the house and turned to look at the Shipwright Inn.
“I think I may have been away too long,” he sighed. He glanced warningly at the woman. “I am going to be around for a while, so will see if I can find out why the excise men feel the need to check so frequently. I sincerely hope that there is nothing to hide.” He watched Mrs Fitzsimmons’ wary nod and knew in his gut that there was something amiss. “I heard that someone was arrested in the village a few weeks back.”
“Aye, that would be Andrew Ransley and Edward Hawkshurst.”
“Smuggling?”
“Further around the coast. Caught red handed they were.”
Jonathan shook his head. He wanted to ask if anyone else in the village was involved, but knew that nobody would answer his questions. Although he was a villager, he had been away for some time and didn’t actually live in the village. The locals were f
riendly and welcoming but had never really considered him one of their closest. He had to be very selective whom he asked questions of because with a village as small as Burnham by Sea, gossip was a mainstay of village activity. Asking anyone any questions would be discussed and analysed before he made it home. His thoughts turned toward Harper Hamilton-Smythe, the local magistrate, and he made a mental note to pay a visit to his friend at the earliest opportunity.
As a member of the Star Elite, Jonathan was up to his eyes and ears in smugglers, and the French spies some of the smugglers brought into the country. He could only hope and pray that while he had been away fighting to protect king and country from French invasion, smuggling of any kind hadn’t been going on right on his very own doorstep.
He nodded to Mrs Fitzsimmons and shifted in his saddle to glance back at the excise men as they moved on to the next house. With a sigh he headed around the coast in search of home. He puffed out his cheeks and glanced across at the looming clouds on the horizon. The stiff sea wind had grown considerably colder and he snuggled down into his cloak as he took the narrow, winding path up the hill and out of the village. At the top he rode to the edge of the cliff. It gave him a perfect view of the harbour. He sat there for some time studying the small dots that were people, scurry this way and that. It was only when the excise men departed the last house that he turned away and headed home.
It seemed that much had changed while he had been away, and he didn’t like it one bit. His gut instinct had saved his life on more than one occasion, and it practically screamed at him that something nefarious was going on in the village.
He just hoped to God it didn’t involve Kat.
CHAPTER TWO
The following night, Jonathan finished the last of his meal and settled back in his chair to savour his brandy. He turned his gaze to his long time friend, Harper Hamilton-Smythe, and waited while the man finished his own apple pie. He had gleaned enough from Harper, to know that there was some vague gossip about a smuggling gang working nearby, but nobody connected to Bentney on Sea had been mentioned. That didn’t mean they weren’t involved though, it was just that the gossips hadn’t passed the news on yet.
Throughout their meal, Jonathan had garnered that Harper had made a few enquiries of his own but, as yet, had come up empty-handed except for gossip that couldn’t be proven. However, Harper had relayed the villagers’ disgust at the repeated, and increasingly frequent, inspections by Harrison, and his excise men.
“I need your help, Harper, in getting to the bottom of what is going on. I know that Andrew Ransley and his associate, Hawkshurst, were arrested for smuggling further around the coast. Were they acting alone, or part of a larger operation?”
Harper sighed and placed his spoon down carefully. He accepted the goblet of brandy Jonathan handed him with a nod of thanks, and sat back to study the contents carefully for several long moments. He wasn’t lost to the fact that it was ludicrously expensive French brandy he now held in his hand, but Harper had no doubt that Jonathan had purchased it legitimately. If there was one person Harper trusted more than anyone else in the area, it was Jonathan Arbinger, not least because Harper knew of Jonathan’s work for the extremely powerful and very effective, Star Elite.
“I think that the village may very well be involved in smuggling, but I don’t think it is people they are bringing into the country. I think they are more involved in the smuggling of goods. The market in Tattersnell is highly regarded for miles around. Although I have never found any evidence to support my suspicions, you understand, I strongly suspect that some of the goods the stall holders are selling at the market there aren’t exactly over the counter.”
“You mean they are selling smuggled goods?” Jonathan scowled. His thoughts immediately turned to Kat’s mother, Agnes, who had a stall there selling fruit and vegetables. Although he couldn’t envisage Agnes or Kat, or even Billy for that matter, were involved in the sale of illegal goods, it wasn’t inconceivable. He had been away from the area for a long time, and a lot had changed that he had not known about. He wondered whether the Kat he had come to know, and love, was really the Kat he wanted to spend his life with. Still, a small part of him refused to give up on his lifelong dream. He had to find out for certain just what she was up to, if anything. Then he could figure out what he was going to do about her.
“I think that the goods have to go somewhere,” Harper continued, oblivious to Jonathan’s inner turmoil. “I have yet to see anything untoward going on myself, you understand, but I strongly suspect that Andrew Ransley had people in the area who were prepared to accept his goods. He just won’t admit it though, despite intensive questioning. His version of events is that he and Hawkshurst saw the barrels and boxes floating out at sea. There was no ship in view, and nobody trying to collect the goods, so they decided to help themselves. He denies any involvement in smuggling but because he was caught with illegal goods, and Harrison from Excise was in attendance, I couldn’t exactly let the man off the hook. Practically the whole village turned out for his trial. I believe they are supporting his wife and children as much as they can, while Andrew serves his sentence.”
“The sentence was quite lenient wasn’t it?” Jonathan sighed. He knew that many smugglers had been handed lighter sentences because they were mainly tried by people who accepted ‘grace and favour’ items from the smugglers and villagers. Jonathan studied Harper, and wondered if he had been on the receiving end of such expensive items.
Sensing his friend’s curiosity, Harper sighed. “I don’t,” he replied, not offended in the least at Jonathan’s instinctive question. He had been tempted a time or two but, given that his reputation and livelihood depended on his honesty and integrity, had never purchased anything that had even the faintest whiff of being French. “I have no proof there is anything going on in the village and, whenever I have been to the market, I have seen nothing untoward, but I strongly suspect that Ransley and Hawkshurst were working for a larger network.”
“Why?”
“Because the sheer volume of cargo they had on their boat capsized the bloody thing,” Harper sighed with a rueful shake of his head. “The excise men caught them because both Ransley and Hawkshurst were busy having to swim to get the floating cargo, and were hauling it ashore bit by bit. The excise men helped bring some of it ashore before arresting them.”
Jonathan shook his head and smothered a laugh. “They had people waiting for the cargo.”
Harper nodded. “The cargo was transported to the Excise House for disposal, but there was a lot of it and it took two or three trips before the beach was cleared.”
“It would be good to try to get hold of the Seizure Inventory,” Jonathan replied. His thoughts turned to Kat and her family once more. Was she involved? “If I know what they are shipping in, it gives me some idea of what to look for.”
“I warn you now that you won’t find anything,” Harper warned darkly. “I have been trying for several months, and have been met with a sea of empty faces and pleas of innocence that I cannot disprove. Harrison has searched with the determination of a dog after a bone, but has come up empty handed.”
“I think that it is time we paid a visit to Bentney on Sea to carry out a closer inspection ourselves,” Jonathan mused. He studied his friend and saw the fine lines of ageing around his eyes. The slight smattering of grey at his temples reminded Jonathan that they were all getting older and, as far as he was concerned, it was time to consider a new future.
There had clearly been many changes to the village while he had been away, and not all of them good. It was time to re-assert his position as Lord Dentham, and be visibly seen to be working with the local magistrate, Harper Hamilton-Smythe, to protect the reputation of the village and its people.
“Do you have any objection to heading down to the Shipwright Inn for a quick ale? I think it is time we started to make our presence felt.” Jonathan knew that sometimes the mere appearance of strangers could draw a halt to smuggling opera
tions. Even if that halt was a temporary one, it would buy him enough time to find out if Kat was involved and ensure that she stopped. Having Harper on side would ensure that if she was caught with illegal goods, he could use his connections to ensure that she wasn’t sentenced. Still, he hated the thought of his future wife being caught red-handed with illegal cargo. He shook his head in disgust and pushed away from the table, pleased when Harper seemed almost relieved to have Jonathan willing to help. They paused only briefly while Jonathan penned a quick note to Hugo, and then headed out into the night.
“How long are you back for?” Harper asked when they had mounted and were headed down the drive toward the village.
“I am back for several weeks this time, but have to come and go. Tell me, have you ever heard of a man called Dubois in Dadington?”
“That’s a French name if ever I heard one,” Harper mused and scowled at the road ahead. In the far distance he could see the twinkling lights of the fishing port lying at the bottom of the hill. He drew in a deep breath of crisp night air and searched his memory carefully for anything that might prove useful. It was reassuring to know that Jonathan was going to be around long enough to put a stop to the smuggling. Harper had been doing what he could but, without the manpower to help, it had been damned near impossible to get any information from anyone. He knew that if anyone had any chance of getting to the bottom of what was going on, Jonathan would.
“I don’t believe so, no,” he murmured. “The name seems vaguely familiar but I cannot remember why. He certainly has not been through the courts recently, of that I am certain. Why? Is he important to you?”
“I need to enlist your help. With Dadington, and Bentney on Sea, and the huge mound of loose ends I need to tie up with regards to the estate, I have my hands full and need a bit of help. You will be working for the Star Elite,” Jonathan murmured quietly.
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