My Lord Deceived

by King, Rebecca

  Harper sucked in a breath and stared at his friend. On his last visit to the War Office, he had heard of the legendary activities of the men from the Star Elite. They were England’s most elite group of ex-soldiers, and were currently enjoying a run of successful arrests of some of France’s notorious spies who had been brought into the country by smuggling gangs. Although the details had been sketchy, the sheer volume of Frenchmen who had appeared in jails as a result of the Star Elite’s activities was astonishing.

  There were rumours flying that one of the men had recently turned up with a group of about twenty Frenchmen, all of whom had been captured by two of the Star Elite while they had been protecting one of their witnesses.

  Just to be given the opportunity to work alongside them, even on the fringes of their activities, was an honour.

  “I would be delighted to help you in any way I can,” Harper replied smoothly and wondered just what Jonathan was up to. He met and held Jonathan’s gaze for several moments. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

  “This is Star Elite business so the upmost secrecy has to be applied. You will also be adequately recompensed for your endeavours,” Jonathan sighed. “Right now, I need you to find out what you can about someone called Dubois in Dadington. I need to meet with my contact in Tattersnell, but I think it would be beneficial if you came with me to begin with. I am due to meet him at noon tomorrow, if you are available?”

  “Of course,” Harper nodded toward the village. “What do you want to do about that?”

  “God knows. Because I am Star Elite, and working for king and country to stop smugglers running rife along the coast, I can hardly turn a blind eye to villagers in my own parish committing such crimes.” Not only did he have his own personal reputation to consider, if word ever got out that he had been even remotely aware of smuggling in his home town, he would never hold his head up with his colleagues in the Star Elite.

  “I think we need to see what their reaction is to us being there, and see what we overhear. Whatever is going on, I am going to get to the bottom of it, and have to ensure that it stops, before we all end up behind bars.” It was a bit of an overstatement, but not by much. At the very least, smuggling brought about a jail term. Anyone associated with any village was likely to be arrested for questioning if smugglers were found to be based in one particular area. Jonathan couldn’t afford for any link to be made to anyone in Bentney on Sea.

  They entered the busy tap room of the Shipwright Inn several moments later. The loud chorus of the sea shanty was just reaching its climax. Jonathan and Harper waited patiently beside the bar for Harry to drop two mugs of ale in front of them, just as the sea shanty ended amid raucous cheers and ribald laughter.

  Jonathan was oblivious to everything except for the woman behind the bar who was pouring rum for two customers. He watched her glance up and smile at something one ageing customer said to her. Her straight, white teeth glinted in the candle light as she threw back her head and laughed, her eyes alight with twinkling mischief that made him want to smile. His face softened, and he waited for her to notice him, but her attention was taken by two young sailors propping up the bar at the far end. He watched closely as she scowled at them and shook her head, clearly not prepared to fulfil their order. Whatever they were asking for they weren’t going to get, but the sailors didn’t seem prepared to take no for an answer.

  Jonathan and Harper both stiffened in readiness when the men began to grow heated in their persistent demands for more rum, only for several of the locals to interrupt and strong-arm the young deckhands out of the pub.

  Kat watched them go and shook her head. It never ceased to amaze her just how much young men could drink, and still remain upright. She knew that those two would have sore heads in the morning, but had little sympathy for them. She turned around to dispose of their mugs and froze when she saw who stood on the opposite side of the bar.

  “Evening gentlemen,” she said warily and flicked a beseeching glance at the inn keeper, Harry, who was unfortunately busy further down the bar. She tried to keep her gaze impassive, but the sight of Jonathan Arbinger mere feet away shook her. The realisation that she was going to have to serve him made her cringe but she kept her face polite and impassive as she moved toward him and Mr Hamilton-Smythe. Her job was to serve in the tavern after all which, ordinarily, wasn’t a problem; however it was the intensity with which Jonathan studied her that disturbed her greatly. It was as though he was trying to read her inner most thoughts and she didn’t like it one bit. Especially given that he had haunted her dreams for so long now that she had a physical ache deep inside at what could never be.

  Over the years, she had tried to keep him at a distance. Whenever he had ventured close enough to speak to her, he had always left her feeling gauche and tongue-tied. She was a young woman who knew her own mind. She wasn’t afraid to work for her living and enjoyed what she did, but the effect that this man had on her always left her feeling a little off balance and unworthy. He made her think about things she had no business considering, especially with someone like him.

  Whenever he left, and he always seemed to leave, it seemed to take her longer and longer to put away the feelings she had for him and carry on with her life regardless. She knew it was self-defeating to feel anything for this man. He was a charlatan; a rogue who used his home as a half-way house on his way to, or from, London. He had no intention of settling in Denham Hall and, when he did decide to stop being a rogue and settle down, it certainly would not be with someone like her. Still, it did little to banish the acute awareness she felt whenever he was around.

  Kat sighed, feeling a small pang of envy for the woman who would have him for a husband. Even though he was socially far out of her reach, he was still extraordinarily handsome. His sheer size alone captured the respect of most of the people around him, and the wariness of others. His broad shoulders filled out his expensive jacket with masculine perfection, and emphasised his lean yet powerful frame. His brown, slightly curled hair gently brushed the collar of his pristine white shirt and gave him a slightly wind-swept look that was dashing as well as it was roguish.

  She felt the now familiar tightening around her heart and immediately blocked the feeling out. She certainly didn’t love Jonathan Arbinger anymore; that had been a young girls dream. The handsome Lord of the parish always sent many a female heart aflutter whenever he happened by. Kat was no different to practically every other female with a heart in the village, but all of that youthful infatuation she once held for him had long since gone. Jonathan had now grown into a devastatingly handsome man, but had been drawn away from hearth and home, tempted by the bright lights and luxurious frivolities of life in London.

  It was shameful the way he had turned his back on his family, and she had seen first-hand just how upset his father had been at his son’s continual absence prior to his death. Although Jonathan’s uncle Bruce lived in the house, the place still felt strangely bereft. But still, it was none of her business. If he ran true to form, he would be at Dentham Hall for a day or so and then vanish again just as quickly as he came.

  “Gentlemen, what can I get you?”

  “Two ales please, Kat,” Harper sighed. He studied the intensely probing gaze Jonathan gave the young woman, and couldn’t quite make his mind up whether the penetrating stare was down to appreciation for a beautiful woman, or personal interest. Although the woman was beautiful, he had no idea if there had been any previous dalliance between the two. The tension that hovered in the air between them was palpable though and hinted at far more going on than customer and bar maid.

  Harper didn’t know much about the villagers. Having only been in the area for the last two years, he was still classed as new to the area, but he knew a beautiful woman when he saw one. She seemed so out of place amongst the labourers, sailors and fishermen that he couldn’t help but wonder what had driven her to take such a job, but then gave himself a mental shake. It really was none of his business.
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br />   The Shipwright Inn had a reputation for good food, good ale and good song, and had never caused a problem to anyone in authority. It was why Harper chose it as his own local drinking establishment, in spite of the fact that it was several miles away from his own home in Upper Dentham.

  Kat turned away and was glad to be free of Jonathan’s watchful gaze for a moment. She quickly poured their ales and pushed them onto the counter before she swept the coins off and dropped them into Harry’s box. She didn’t glance at the men again, merely moved down the bar to serve the others but every sense was tuned to Jonathan’s every moment. It took all of her willpower not to glance at him again, and it was a relief when he and Mr Hamilton-Smythe took a seat in the corner of the room.

  “Kat? Over here,” Harry called during a lull in serving. Kat moved to his side and studied Norman and Charles who stood on the opposite side of the bar. “Another bundle is coming in.”

  Kat scowled. “So soon? Why is this happening so often?”

  “I don’t know,” Charles shrugged and looked abashed as though it was all his fault, which they knew it wasn’t. “We got word this afternoon,” he whispered conspiratorially. “It is coming in at first light.”

  Kat’s thoughts immediately turned to the already full hiding places in the house, and she mentally began to consider different areas in the house they could use to hide the extra goods, but she knew it was going to be a futile effort. She had already spent the afternoon with her mother, Billy and Hester, dividing up the last delivery of goods but they hadn’t been shipped yet. Market wasn’t until tomorrow morning. They didn’t have enough room in the house for two lots of cargo, even for a few hours. If the excise men turned up, Kat and her family, as well as Hester, would all be heading off to jail.

  “Can we store it somewhere else? We are struggling for space and cannot risk being caught with the stuff. Harrison is turning up far too often for comfort,” she sighed.

  “I know,” Harry muttered, and mentally considered the kegs of brandy beneath his cellar floor. He was already full to the rafters and was going to have to start digging up his garden if he didn’t get some of it shifted soon.

  Nigel Hawkshurst was the provider; the man who spoke to his people to accept the shipments that came in. Nobody had sought to ask too many questions of how the man got his information but, so far, whenever Nigel had said that shipments would arrive, they had; on time and in full.

  “Good heavens, we have a massive problem,” Kat sighed and dipped her head when Norman leaned toward her.

  “You need to take mine as well,” Norman whispered. “I don’t have anywhere to store mine at all.”

  Kat stared at him in horror. She had enough problems storing her own, she couldn’t run the risk of keeping anyone else’s, but she hated to let the old man down. She knew that he struggled to carry things with his gnarled fingers, and he depended on the extra income to put food on his table. Still, she had mother and Billy to consider.

  “I cannot take anything more, Charles, I really don’t have the hiding places,” she gasped, and flicked a horrified glance at Harry, who shook his head sadly.

  “Me either.”

  “We could put it in the barn, I suppose.” They all considered Farmer Ridgeley’s barn for several moments. Although it was a perfect hiding place because it was out in the middle of nowhere, getting goods there, let alone back, would prove to be a nightmare because it stood out in stark silhouette on the top of the cliffs. Nobody could approach the building without being seen by practically everyone in the village.

  They all stared at each other nonplussed for a moment as they weighed up the options.

  “What time is it coming in?”

  “Usual time,” Harry whispered out of the corner of his mouth. News had spread. Kat noted several people glance conspiratorially at them and they all shared a knowing, if slightly panicked, look of exasperation.

  “Do you need me to help you?”

  “Not tonight. Andrew’s cousin, Barney, is here along with Norman’s nephew. We don’t need you tonight, Kat.”

  “We have to accept it,” Kat sighed. She wondered what they could do to shift the first delivery while keeping Harrison from finding the second. She made a mental note to make sure she was up at first light to collect their share of the goods from Harry, but couldn’t think of anywhere to put the numerous barrels, boxes and bolts of cloth they usually took in a delivery.

  “Of course we do. If we stop, we may not be included again.” They all helped to remove the cargo from the rowing boats that brought the goods to shore. Once they were on dry land, the goods were divided up between the locals, while the bulk was left on the beach to be collected by Hawkshurst and his men. Nobody had any idea where the bulk of the cargo vanished to, none of them dared ask any questions, but the villagers were happy with their share of the goods and, more often than not, sold them on to make a profit for their hard work on the beach. Unfortunately, of late, the ships had started to come through with more and more frequency until they all struggled to keep up with the supply and had run out of hiding places. At the moment, the village was packed to the rafters with smuggled cargo, and it was only a matter of time before Harrison found some, if not all of it.

  Harry thought about the rum sitting in various tins in his kitchen, and the tea buried beneath his roses, and mentally winced at the thought of having to dig up more of his land at the back of the tavern. All he seemed to do was spend his days traipsing spare soil to the shoreline to toss into the sea. How he was going to explain the holes that suddenly appeared in his garden when he did have to dig it back up again he had no idea.

  “I am going to struggle to find somewhere to hide the new cargo. Our sales for market tomorrow are already covered, but we still have to store two loads before we can leave for Tattersnell. We cannot expect our buyers to purchase two lots in one go, even if we had time to package it.” Kat sighed. She hated to let Norman down but there was nothing for it.

  “I cannot get rid of what I have any quicker,” Harry sighed.

  “God, what a mess,” Norman groaned when silence settled over them.

  “Ahem.”

  Kat jumped and whirled around. She gasped in surprise to find her nose mere inches from Jonathan’s chest. None of them had heard him walk up to stand beside them. Kat ignored the guilty blush that stained her cheeks and glared up at him.

  “Want a re-fill?” Harry asked and threw Jonathan an overly bright smile that betrayed the cautious look in his eye.

  Kat merely flicked him a half-hearted smile and turned back to Norman. “I am sure you will get it sorted soon,” she soothed and tried desperately to think of something oblique to say. She had no idea how much Jonathan had overheard, and frantically retraced the last few minutes’ conversation for anything that would give their activities away. She couldn’t lose sight of the fact that Jonathan was a relative stranger to the area and, as such, couldn’t be trusted. Not only that, but he sat with the magistrate. She shook her head and realised just how foolish they had all been. They should have waited until the men had left and were out of ear-shot.

  Jonathan moved slowly down the bar, aware of the suspicious looks he was receiving. He glanced back. His eyes met and held Kat’s for several moments and he read the secrets there. He knew that she had been discussing something private. He had heard the old man say something was a mess, but that didn’t mean it automatically related to smuggling.

  Luckily, the noise within the tavern had dimmed to a dull rumble now that the singing had finished. He could at least hear what Harper was saying to him, even if he preferred to hear what Kat was discussing further across the room. He nodded amiably to two old sailors stationed beside the fire and smiled when one lifted his pipe in a mock salute.

  “Is it my imagination, or is there a strange atmosphere in here tonight?” Harper muttered softly from behind his tankard as he took a sip of his delicious ale.

  The Shipwright Inn made its own ale and was reputed
to be the best for miles around, Harper could see why. The amber liquid slid down his throat like silk and he savoured the malty flavour for several minutes while he waited for Jonathan to tear his eyes away from the delectable bar maid.

  “It is very strange,” Jonathan sighed. He studied each of the occupants in turn carefully. He hadn’t missed the knowing looks that passed between practically everyone present, but was that because there were two highly influential strangers in the pub, or because they had something nefarious to hide?

  “It is as though they are expecting something,” he added and flicked a cautious glance at Harper

  “Us to leave maybe?” he drawled ruefully. The atmosphere was almost expectant. Were they waiting for Jonathan and him to leave? If so, why? What were they going to do when they had gone? The hour was still relatively early, but it would soon be chucking out time. Most of the tavern’s occupants were fishermen who had to leave port at dawn to bring in the day’s catch anyway, so Harper couldn’t see why they would be expectant.

  Jonathan and Harper made no attempt to move and drank their ale in companionable silence while they watched as many people as they could. At first glance, everything was as it should be. On closer inspection, there were many furtive glances and whispered comments.

  Jonathan shared a glance with Harper, and watched Kat walk from behind the bar to gather up mugs and clean the tables down. She did it with swift efficiency that was poetry in motion to watch. She shared a laugh and a joke with the old sailors and helped one of the oldest to his feet when he took his leave.

  “Time, gentlemen, please,” Harry cried. He laughed at the collective groans and grumbles rumbled around the room and began to clear away the mugs.

  Kat slowly made her way around the room. She finished cleaning the table next to Jonathan. He waited for her to turn toward him, only to watch her to walk straight past, her nose in the air as she made her way toward the far end of the room where she began to ferry tankards to the bar. There was no jocular teasing or friendly conversation for him. Jonathan had a sneaking suspicion that she was avoiding him, and could only wonder why.