She tried to remain visibly relaxed and at ease with the world around her, but it was so very difficult when he seemed to be watching her every move. What did he want with her? It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if she had a mark on her shirt while she had cleared the small table next to him. She had to bite her lip from issuing him with a biting put down, but could feel his eyes boring into her back as she made her way to the far corner of the busy tap in a desperate attempt to get away from him. He had been studying her closely since he had arrived, and it was starting to grate on her nerves. Did he want to talk to her? He had certainly made no attempt to approach her to engage in conversation before. There had been plenty of opportunity to ask her questions if he wanted to but, instead, he had sat on the fringes of the room with his friend and had watched them all. She didn’t like it. Did he suspect something? She wasn’t sure but she certainly wasn’t going to ask him.
“Come on now, our beds are calling.”
“Kat, are you going home soon?” Jonathan asked from behind her. She jumped and whirled toward him. She couldn’t keep the astonishment off her face and struggled not to take the hesitant step backward at his almost overwhelming presence. The man he was with, the local magistrate, Mr Hamilton-Smythe moved to stand beside him. What did they want with her?
“No, not yet. There is work to do here,” she replied hesitantly with a slight frown.
“I was going to offer you a walk home,” Jonathan replied smoothly, unsure where the surge of protectiveness came from. She undoubtedly did the same walk every night while he was away, and didn’t have anyone watching her back then. Still, there was something going on in the area. Until he got to the bottom of what was going on, he felt driven to ensure that she was safe.
“I am fine thank you. I will be here for a while yet. Please don’t let me keep you. Harry needs to close up for the night.”
“I will say goodnight then,” Jonathan murmured. He was about to turn around but paused to glance back at her. “Thanks for reading to uncle.”
Kat stared at him. She had no idea that he knew she made thrice weekly trips to Dentham Hall to read to his uncle, Bruce. “I don’t mind. I enjoy it.”
“He asked me to find out if he will see you tomorrow?”
Kat nodded warily and flicked a glance to Mr Hamilton-Smythe, who nodded politely as he made his way to the door.
“That’s fine, I will see him tomorrow.”
“You have chapter two to begin, I believe. Uncle’s biggest regret is that his sight is so poor, he cannot read himself but I know he thoroughly enjoys your company.” As do I, Jonathan sighed to himself.
Kat nodded sympathetically, strangely lost for words. It was an unusual arrangement for the local bar maid to read to the elderly relation of the lord of the parish, but theirs worked well. Jonathan’s uncle Bruce had heard Kat reading to some children in the village one day at the village fete. The following day, she had received a summons to the house whereupon Bruce had explained his failing sight had rendered him unable to focus on the printed words in his books. He had offered her payment if she would come to the house twice a week to read to him. Kat had delighted in the prospect of being able to enjoy some of the books in the vast library at Dentham Hall, and had eschewed payment just to be able to read some of the classics she had only ever heard about. Their arrangement had been a mutually beneficial one. They shared tea while Kat curled up and read to Bruce, who studied the fire and listened to each chapter with the avid interest of a young child. She had no idea that anyone else except her mother knew of the arrangement.
“I enjoy it.”
“Excellent. We shall see you tomorrow at the usual time then,” Jonathan replied, and ignored her shocked look as he swept out of the tap room.
He had every intention of being there for the next reading, and made a mental note to ask Kat a few carefully structured questions about the exact nature of the goods her mother had for sale on her stall.
CHAPTER THREE
Kat hefted the last box of vegetables on to the back of their aged cart and stood back to brush her hands off.
“That’s everything then,” she muttered and glanced up at Agnes, who sat on the bench seat with the reins in her hands.
“Wait a minute while Billy helps me, then you can be on your way.” She shivered as a swift breeze tugged at the loose folds of her dress and she hurried back into the house to get out of the biting chill. Billy stood in the middle of the sitting room. He stared down in horror at the large mound of items on the floor as though he wasn’t sure where it had all come from.
“Where are we going to hide all this?” he whispered. He glanced at Kat with a mixture of fear and consternation.
Kat knew that he dreaded the knock on the door that announced the arrival of the excise men just as much as she did, but today was worse than any other day because they now had two loads of smuggled cargo, and nowhere to put most of it.
“We can hide the bolts of cloth, tea and sugar in the usual places,” Kat sighed and moved to the fireplace to stamp out the fire. The temperature within the room had only just started to go up. It was a shame to extinguish the meagre flame but still, their freedom depended on getting rid of the evidence as quickly as possible.
She hefted Billy up the chimney and handed up the bolts of cloth. They managed to secure all of the bolts up there, double the usual amount, and turned to gather up as many of the boxes of tea and sugar as they could carry. Once the packages were stored in their usual place, they returned to the sitting room. The mound still looked huge. Without the vegetable boxes in the yard, they had nowhere else to put the goods.
“Right, let’s empty the copper kettle. We can put the tea in there,” she sighed and turned her gaze toward the small bucket containing a flowering plant. She quickly emptied the contents and ordered Billy to bring a packet of the tea. After she had carefully repositioned the soil around the packet and knocked roots off the plant to make it go back into the pot she stood back to assess her handiwork.
“Cor, that’s a good idea,” Billy whispered in awe.
“I know, Billy-boy, I am pure genius,” Kat teased him and turned to study the room carefully. “Now move, and hurry up because mother is waiting.”
Together they broke up the rest of the contents, placing packets of sugar in boots, under the dresser and under the feed bucket of Molly’s stable outside. Unfortunately, the mound that sat in the middle of the sitting room floor didn’t seem to have gone down much at all.
She sighed and glanced at the pile of tea boxes, brandy barrels and sugar sacks and shook her head. She had no idea what they were going to do now.
“Heads up!”
“Oh God, no!” Kat cried and shared a look of fear with Billy. Her heart began to race and she fought the rising well of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She moved to the door and beckoned Agnes, who had heard the cry and was already on her way back to the house. Kat studied the garden for several moments but immediately dismissed the possibility of digging holes big enough to hide the goods. She was about to turn back toward the house when she caught sight of something at the far side of Molly’s stable.
“Billy,” Kat snapped and turned to her brother with a smirk. “It’s time to get inventive.”
She ignored Billy’s questions, stalked inside the house and gathered up several large packets which she shoved at her mother before she doled out the same amount to Billy. She scooped up the rest herself and led them all outside. With a sniff, she ignored their gasps and began to dig.
Kat had just finished covering the goods over when there was a loud knock on the front door.
“Quickly, go!” Kat snapped to her mother and shoved her and Billy toward the cart. If the cart was searched, the goods would be found and the last few fraught moments would all be for nothing. She waited only until Agnes and Billy had disappeared out of the end of the alley at the back of the house, and hurried inside to answer the persistent thumping on the front door.
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br /> She yanked the door open with a scowl and met the snide gaze of Harrison and his small group of men. She didn’t bother to speak to them, merely left the door open and stalked back outside.
“Took you long enough,” Harrison drawled having followed her through the house.
“I am busy,” Kat snapped. She picked up the rake and dragged piles of manure out of the stable. She made no apology for the fact that her skirts were liberally covered with horse manure, and stood back with a glare when the excise man began to search the yard carefully. She flicked Harrison a pious glance when he sniffed at her, wrinkled his nose up and sidled past as though he was afraid of catching something. Having made a mental note to cover herself in horse poo the next time that the excise men called, she continued to clear out Molly’s stall. She knew that unless the excise men grew more inventive with their searches, there was little possibility of anything illegal being found in Kat’s back yard.
“Are your mother and brother not here?” Harrison drawled from several feet away.
Kat scowled at him. “Its market day,” she snapped. She could see no reason to inform Harrison that they had only just left; several hours later than they should have done. She could only hope that Agnes would be in time to meet all of her purchasers. They couldn’t run the risk of anything being brought back. When she heard heavy thumping inside the house, Kat sighed, dropped her rake and hurried into the kitchen. She placed her hands on her hips and watched the excise men stomp randomly on the floor.
“I take it that you haven’t seen or heard anything unusual around here lately today either?” Harrison sighed. He too watched his men stomp their way around the sitting room as they checked for hidden compartments beneath the floor. He knew that they wouldn’t find anything, but could see no reason to call them off, especially when he needed to question the pretty young lady.
“Besides you, you mean?” Kat snorted disparagingly and turned her back. She didn’t want to stand and watch them desecrate the house, and appeared almost unconcerned as she went back outside and began to shovel Molly’s stall until it was empty. The loud thump of the front door gave her the all clear, and she raced into the house in time to hear heavy thumping on Mr Peat’s door.
She huffed out a breath and leaned against her mucky rake for a moment. She rested her head on the handle and listened as her heart pounded heavily in her chest. Today, for the first time in a long time, she physically trembled with the realisation of just how close they had all come to complete ruination. A small part of her questioned whether it was all worth it and, if she was honest, she wasn’t entirely sure. Kat frowned and studied the floor while she listened to the familiar arguments from Mr Peat’s house.
“Penny for them?”
“Oh!” Kat cried and whirled around. Her gaze landed on Jonathan, who stood right behind her. She wondered how such a large man could move so quietly and stared nonplussed at him for a moment, as though she had never seen him before in her life.
Jonathan studied her and sniffed. The smile that was about to break free was only just contained, but his eyes brimmed with ill-concealed humour as he studied the heavily scented manure liberally splattered all over her dress.
“You know, if you wanted to go digging, there is a beach nearby. Sand is much less odorous than manure, don’t you think?”
Kat fought a smile and refused to make an apology for the smell. She could hardly explain the situation to him of all people, especially given he had been drinking with the magistrate last night.
She tipped her head back and stared at him with a frown. “Is your uncle well?”
“I am afraid he is in bed with an ague today, so I have been sent to offer his apologies. He is deeply upset, but I think it would be best if you could call tomorrow, if you are available? Just to give him a day or so to get well again. I think though that your reading may have to take place at his bedside, if you are still willing?”
Despite the fact that she was literally covered in horse dung, she was still absolutely adorable. His fingers tingled with the need to stroke the smooth skin of her cheek, just to see if her complexion was really that peachy, or whether she was cold. The serviceable work dress she had ruined covered her frame adoringly and left him wondering what she would look like in the finest muslin, with her hair elegantly quaffed by an experienced maid. Somehow he couldn’t envisage it. He thought carefully over his acquaintance with her and could only count two occasions when he had seen her neatly pressed and dressed in her finest, and one of those had been at her father’s funeral.
“Of course I don’t mind. I shall see him tomorrow,” Kat sighed. She couldn’t help but wonder why he had come to deliver the message in person rather than send one of the staff. Didn’t he trust them? Or was he on his way out of town – again? She suspected it was the latter and was acutely drawn to the differences in their appearance. He was neatly dressed with expensive clothing. The leather on his boots, polished to the highest shine, most probably came from one of London’s most expensive cobblers. Boots like his certainly couldn’t be purchased anywhere around here, that’s for certain. She, meanwhile, was dirty, smelly and aware that her clothing was of the cheapest kind. She wondered why he was even letting her into his huge mansion, let alone talking to her now.
She blanked out the easy familiarity with which he spoke to her and turned her thoughts instead to how she could get him out of the house, before he drew the attention of the gossips.
“Are you staying here long?” Kat asked, and mentally winced. If she could have grabbed the question back out of the air between them and shoved it back into her mouth then she would have done. Instead she merely stared at him, a little nonplussed by her rudeness.
Jonathan smiled, not offended in the least. He was thrilled that she wanted to know. She wasn’t as averse to him as she pretended to be, and that surprised him as much as it delighted him. “I am at home for a while this time, yes. I hope to make it a permanent move soon,” he murmured gently. His eyes met and held hers for a moment. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, so many things he wanted to ask her that he wished they were on a much firmer footing that allowed him the liberty of spending the afternoon with her.
“I want to ask you a few questions, Kat,” Jonathan sighed. He ignored her impatient look and eased his hips against the dresser behind him. He crossed his ankles and arms and stared at her. His stance made it perfectly clear that he was going nowhere until she gave him the answers he was looking for.
“I wanted to ask you about the men who were arrested for smuggling further along the coast.” His eyes met and held hers, effectively pinning her to the spot. “Were they working independently, or part of a much larger gang?”
Kat stared at him blankly for a moment. “I have no idea,” she replied with a frown. “How would I know?”
“Andrew Ransley lives over there, does he not?” Jonathan nodded toward the house visible through the front room window.
“Yes. Hester, his wife, lives there with their children,” Kat sighed. It made her deuced uncomfortable that Jonathan was asking questions about smugglers. He had certainly shown no interest in the village, or the people in it before. Why now? What did he want? Was he behind the reason why Harrison had started to call practically daily?
She was vaguely aware that the house next door had fallen silent and could hear the echoing thumps on doors further down the road. Unusually, by the sound of it, there were more than two groups of excise men searching this time. Was it because they had learned that the cargo was much bigger and would be harder to store? She thought briefly about her own desperate race to hide their goods and hoped that everyone else had managed to find additional the space they needed.
“Mrs Ransley didn’t know what her husband was up to, I take it?” Jonathan knew that in a fishing port like Bentney on Sea, nothing much happened without everyone being aware of it. He also knew from Harper, that Hester was being fed by the villagers. Was it because they were the intended r
ecipients of the spoils Andrew would have brought in if he hadn’t been caught?
“I don’t think so, do you? I mean, she has children to consider. If she knew her husband was going to risk being arrested, she wouldn’t have let him out of the house, I am sure of it,” Kat sighed. She knew very well that Hester had known what Andrew was up to and, although worried, had supported him purely because of their need to feed the children. Andrew worked as a crewman on one of the fishing trawlers, but the pay wasn’t brilliant and barely enough to feed them all, let alone pay for clothing or bills or anything else they needed.
“Are smugglers working up and down the coast around here?” Jonathan sighed. He watched Kat’s face carefully and was fairly certain that she was telling the truth, but couldn’t be entirely sure.
“I have no idea who is running what around here,” she muttered, only half-lying. She knew what shipments were coming in and when, but had no idea as to who was behind organising everything beyond Nigel Hawkshurst. She had never bothered to ask how Hawkshurst got his messages to the French etc., and, if she was honest, didn’t really want to know.
“Have you heard any rumours regarding any smugglers?”
“I have the market stall, my job, running this place with mother, keeping an eye on Billy, as well as reading to your uncle. I don’t get time to gossip,” Kat sighed. She bit back her impatience with barely contained ill humour.
“I know, but your work in the tavern must leave you open to learning all sorts of news that the gossips themselves don’t get to hear about.” Especially from the sailors who knew the coast like the back of their hands, and would undoubtedly know exactly what was going on whether it was morning, noon or night.
“I am busy at work and it is very noisy,” Kat replied and crossed her arms defensively.
Jonathan could see no fault in her argument but still, a small voice warned him that there was something amiss. He knew that she was an intelligent young woman. Not all women in the port could read at all, let alone write, yet Kat did both with sufficient skill that his own uncle had engaged her abilities. Nobody could work in a busy tavern like the Shipwright Inn, smack in the middle of a fishing port, and not hear of anything to do with illegal smuggling in the area.
My Lord Deceived Page 4