Moon and Stars

by Elizabeth Johns

  “Nothing for you to concern yourself over.”

  She forced herself not to pout and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling self-conscious as he was obviously going to reject her again. Something was going on that he refused to tell her. “Would you rather tell me what this is about or should I ask my brother? Do I not have the right to know?”

  “You do not understand what you are asking.” He ran his fingers through his dark locks, leaving them adorably ruffled. “I must stay away from you. Good night, my lady.” He bowed and began to leave the room.

  “Wait!”

  He hesitated at the door before turning to look back at her.

  Suddenly she did not feel so brave, but she had to know. “If things were different…”

  A look of tenderness softened his face for a moment as she held her breath for the answer. He shook his head. “But they are not.” He closed the door behind him.

  Frustration mounting, Charlotte picked up a cushion and threw it at the door behind him, trying not to sob. Instead, she marched out of the door back to the library with every intention of confronting Yardley, but the room was shrouded in darkness. He had already retired.

  “Of course he is already upstairs,” she muttered to herself. “He goes to his wife and I go to my books.”

  She held up her taper to light her way and went straight for her favourite novel, Persuasion. The bindings were well worn, as a proper book should be. If she were to write a book, she could think of no finer compliment. Perhaps that is what her purpose in life was—to tell stories. But where would she start? Keeping a journal was one thing, while weaving a novel was akin to an artist wielding a paintbrush.

  Leaning her forehead against the bookshelf, she had to fight back despair. She knew she was fortunate…there were so many with so little and she had so much... Why could she not be satisfied? Even her favourite tale of romance could not erase the anguish in her heart.

  A scratching sound from behind the wall caused her to jump and squeal.

  “It is only a mouse,” she told herself as she tried to still the frantic beat of her heart. “That is why you do not go through the house alone at night,” she reminded herself as she hurried from the library and returned to her room. “And there are three lazy mousers who need to earn their keep,” she pronounced to said beasts, who barely opened an eye to the intruder.

  David chuckled when he heard the object hit the door behind him, so he stayed in the shadows and waited. He watched as Lady Charlotte marched to the library to do heaven knew what, and then continued to watch as she carried on a conversation with herself.

  There was more to the lady than she revealed—he had to restrain himself from going in after her. She was temptation itself in her wrapper, which showed that she possessed a far more alluring figure than intimated by those awful dresses she wore.

  For some reason, Lady Charlotte was determined to see him dead, for Yardley would have his neck and not be so jovial if he knew he was still talking with his sister—and pining for her—in the middle of the night. Reluctantly, he let himself out of the servants’ door and walked back to his cottage to indulge in sweet dreams of Lady Charlotte. For dreams were all that could ever be between them. Hopefully, she would come to see it as well before she drove him completely mad.

  Later the next day, David found the Duke in the paddock with Dido and Gulliver. His Grace had left a note for David to wait on him at his convenience.

  “Good day, your Grace.”

  “Douglas.” Yardley inclined his head from where he stood, against the fence, watching the mare and stallion prance around each other.

  “She and Gulliver will have some fine offspring.”

  “I expect Dido to be in heat soon. She is still warning him off while at the same time showing him she is interested.” Yardley glanced at David. “I spoke with Jeffries this morning. He knew more of the vicar. It seems Howard comes from minor gentry on his father’s side, but his mother’s family owns a munitions manufactory.”

  David considered the implications. “As a smuggler, my mind is turning with possibilities. Munitions are a thriving business, with the constant advances in design, not to mention the recent wars. However, the profits would be at least doubled if gained illegally.”

  “Money is the root of all evil,” Yardley proffered.

  “Or the lack thereof,” David retorted. “But perhaps we have found the missing link? Our good vicar uses his occupation to avoid suspicion, and sends his family’s goods out on the empty ships.”

  “Did you see crews sending cargo out?”

  “I did not, but I was not looking for it, either. Exporting cargo is not the usual way, though it has been known to happen. Guns and ammunition are one thing England is superior at, though the thought of arming our enemies sickens me.”

  “Indeed. To my knowledge, our only major conflicts are in Africa, though it would not surprise me to find any of our adversaries keen to get their hands on more weapons,” Yardley said.

  “I did not find any stores of weapons or guns, though I had to choose only one spot to scout last night. Did your steward know of the tunnel to Langborn? I can trace it now. They will be moving the goods tonight or the next and I would like to see if there is anything else to learn on that front.”

  “Jeffries mentioned there used to be a tunnel which led to a hidden storeroom behind the library, which was sealed in my father’s time. He also thought there was a storage vault under the conservatory, but he has not looked in there in two decades.”

  “Would you mind if I looked around later?”

  “Not at all. There might even be some creatures hiding, for your pleasure,” Yardley added with a sardonic grin.

  “Speaking of which, I thought I heard some mice last night. I suppose that is my purview, though some good mouser cats would be my preference. I imagine what we are looking for either went out last night or goes on another shipment. I need to find out who the agent is, which means I need to insinuate myself into the gang quickly.”

  “The thought of you in church warms my insides,” Yardley teased. “I cannot wait to hear Howard’s sermon. ’Tis interesting the good vicar chose to keep his hand in the minor goods. Could it be a diversion?”

  “Aye, that it could. They have quite an operation, with some walking as bold as brass up the high street to the inn, carrying gin. Tea and lace went through the tunnel to the church, and I suspect there is more elsewhere.”

  “If you need more help, you only have to ask,” Yardley remarked with a sincere look. “I have sent word to my agent in London, to see if he can discover anything more about Howard.”

  “One thing that kept plaguing me about the smuggling run was the absence of Captain Dunn.”

  “What do you think is happening?”

  “I am not certain, but perhaps they are loading from the water. Is there a dock nearby?”

  “Brighton is the closest port for large ships. I keep a yacht there for the occasional trip to the Continent.”

  “That might prove to be quite useful if my suspicions are correct.”

  “I will have it made ready to be at your disposal.”

  “I do appreciate your assistance in this matter. I am quite anxious to settle it.”

  “I have a stake in this as well.”

  “Still…it would be much more difficult without your assistance and resources.”

  The Duke nodded and looked back at the horses, clearly uncomfortable with this gratitude.

  “I suppose I will have to make my way towards Brighton and look over the docks.”

  “The ladies are going to Brighton to look for fabrics. Her Grace has decided to make my sister and your niece her projects for this Season,” Yardley remarked.

  David knew they had convinced his sister to go out, and that was no small feat since her injury. “Her Grace must be a force of nature if she talked my sister and niece into any sort of outing. My sister sent me a note, asking me to help her this morning.”

/>   “Jolie has that effect on people.” The Duke smiled fondly. David’s initial impression of Yardley had been that of a pompous donkey’s hind end, but more and more he was liking the fellow. Cavenray had also surprised him. David knew, if he managed his way out of this conundrum, it would be because of their help. It was a humbling thought.

  “Then I should also mention she ordered me to attend dinner at the house, two evenings from now.”

  Yardley’s head snapped back at him. “I beg your pardon? What is she up to now?”

  “I am not the one to question, sir, but I do not think it would be wise.”

  “Indeed not.”

  Chapter 9

  There is nothing more humiliating to a plump girl than the modiste. So what is it called when she must go with the century’s greatest beauty? Insufferable. Every time, the seamstress points out my flaws as if I could not see them for myself. At least none have told me I am better suited to the stage…to my face.—9 Feb

  I must insist that you come!” Jolie was speaking to Lady Brennan as Charlotte entered the breakfast parlour the next morning.

  “I do not go out in public any more. Besides, it is such an effort to transport this contraption that it is not to be thought of.” Lady Brennan indicated her wheeled chair with a wave of her hand.

  “It is no trouble at all. Getting out of the house will be good for all of us. I cannot abide being closeted indoors for more than a day or two.”

  “Then the three of you should go for a ride. It is of no matter to me to stay here and do my exercises and read a book. The library here is full of novels I have yet to read.”

  Charlotte could feel herself blushing, but Lady Brennan did not seem to think the abundance of novels there was scandalous, as many of her station would.

  “We must go to Brighton for fabrics. Letty and Charlotte both need some new gowns.”

  “I do not need new gowns, your Grace,” Letty objected.

  “Yes, you do, my dear. I insist you have a wardrobe fit for any occasion, as does your brother,” Lady Brennan said gently.

  Letty visibly struggled to control her features and Charlotte could see that they had argued much over this topic. “Very well, Mama, but only if you come with us.”

  “You know why I cannot.”

  “And you know why I choose not to, but I think it is time we faced the ton. I cannot believe Society’s treatment of us could be worse than our fear of it.”

  “Hear, hear.” Jolie applauded. “I have weathered a scandal myself, and I agree with Letty, it is best to get on with it. It will blow over quickly with all of the support you will have. Cavenray recognizes her, and you wish for her to make a good match, no?”

  “Of course I do. But I would wish for her to choose as her heart desires, so she is not tempted to make the poor choices I did.”

  “Oh, Mama. Is that what you wish for me?”

  Lady Brennan had averted her face, trying to control her emotions, but she nodded.

  “Very well. I will go.”

  “Excellent!” Jolie clapped her hands with excitement.

  None of the Ashbury ladies were to be denied when they set their mind to something, Charlotte mused, watching the play unfold before her.

  “I do think we should hold a small entertainment here to give Letty a chance to have a taste of Society. Nothing outrageous, of course. Lord and Lady Wyndham are still in mourning.”

  “I suppose a small affair would be acceptable,” Lady Brennan conceded, “but I do not ever plan to go into London Society again.”

  Jolie smiled and said nothing more. Charlotte knew that smile, however, and she also knew Jolie to be an excellent strategist. She had won this battle and she would be patient to win the war. For some reason, Jolie wanted Letty to succeed, and who would not once they had met her? But Charlotte suspected Jolie intended them to do the social whirl together and Charlotte could sacrifice herself for her friend one more time. She had done it many Seasons before, after all.

  “I will have the carriages sent for so we may be to Brighton early. They are expecting us,” Jolie said with a mischievous wink as she strolled through the door.

  Soon, two carriages were brought round, one for the ladies and one carrying Lady Brennan’s chair and her nurse. What surprised Charlotte most of all was that Sir David was there, carrying Lady Brennan to the carriage.

  Strangely, no one acted as though they knew him. While they stood waiting, he placed her gently inside the carriage and Lady Brennan kissed her brother on the cheek when she likely thought no one could see. He gave his sister’s hand a quick squeeze in return. Charlotte’s heart nearly melted inside her chest.

  Was everyone in on this scheme but her? She was about to ask out of frustration, but something about Letty’s expression gave her pause. Perhaps Lady Brennan did not know about her brother not being pardoned. How could she not know of his reduced circumstances dressed as he was? And did they all think to hide it from her? Had Lady Brennan not been present, Charlotte would have confronted Jolie and Letty. Yardley never kept anything from his wife, and Charlotte was quite certain Jolie was scheming about something...and why was she so suspicious of everyone now? It was unsettling.

  Sir David handed them, one by one, into the carriage, acting the gentleman—or footman—for each of them. He kept his eyes averted as he handed her in, while she barely kept her hand from trembling at his touch. Jolie stepped back and spoke with him a moment before she joined them. Charlotte was burning with curiosity to know what she had said to him. One thing was certain: Jolie knew the supposed servant was Sir David.

  The more secretive everyone was, the more Charlotte's interest burned. It was enough to make her contemplate doing outrageous, unladylike things. She desperately wished she and Jolie were alone, so she could pry information from the Duchess, but it would be hours before she had the opportunity. Instead, she was doing her least favourite activity in the world: going to the modiste.

  A groom had Gulliver saddled and waiting for David after he saw the ladies off to Brighton. How he longed to tell Lady Charlotte the whole! The look in her eyes was going to be the death of him. If only he could make matters progress more quickly, he could remove himself from this millstone which was causing him to sink in more ways than one.

  It was a surprisingly mild day for February as he first made his way into the village of Rottingdean. When Cook happened to hear of his destination, she asked him to order some extra meat from the butcher for the gathering the Duchess was planning. It was a chance to see more of the village during the day and to determine other good hiding spots. To a smuggler, everywhere had potential. Turning down the High Street, people watched him with curiosity and he tipped his hat in an effort to be friendly. He had no doubt, as he tethered Gulliver to a post in front of the shop, that most of them were involved in the free trade in one way or another.

  As he was about to enter the butcher’s shop, he heard voices across the street and recognized one of them as the Revenue Officer. Another man looked like a naval officer, though older, and a third was a middle-aged army colonel. They entered the inn across the street, he noted, and decided he would make his way there next for a bite to eat.

  When he entered the shop, he was surprised to find himself faced with Captain Dunn, behind the counter slicing a side of beef with a large knife.

  “What can I do for you…sir?” Dunn asked suspiciously.

  “Name’s Douglas. I am new at Langborn. Mrs. Headly asked if you could send a large ham over for a gathering on Friday night.”

  “Aye, I can do that.” He wiped his bloody knife on his apron. “What are you doing at Langborn? You smell like a gent.”

  David feigned indifference. He knew this was his moment. “I was brought up a gentleman, but it did not work out. I have spent the last decade in the Indies, forgetting my roots.”

  Dunn eyed him thoughtfully while gnawing a piece of straw. “Mayhap you can be useful here sometimes.”

  “I have some experi
ence of being useful. Happens to be why I like to lie low.”

  Dunn smiled deviously, his crooked, yellow teeth showing. “’Twas you who let out the warning the other night, eh?”

  David shrugged. “Never could stomach a man being hanged for feeding his family.”

  The butcher grunted approval. “I ain’t worried much about Officer Nibley. You any good at climbing or sailing?”

  “Both,” he answered confidently, understanding the operation better and better by the moment. “It seems my employer would not mind my being useful either. He mentioned some tunnels and hinted at their sitting empty.”

  “This Duke likes his brandy, eh?”

  “I am certain there is an amicable arrangement to be made.”

  “I’ll talk it over with my associates. Meet me at the Black Horse tomorrow night and I’ll tell you what they say.”

  “I will be there.” David looked out of the window and saw the two officers standing near Gulliver. “Are there many of their sort ’round here?”

  Dunn looked up and narrowed his gaze at the Excise men. “Enough to be a bloody nuisance. They been joining up with the navy, since they got nothing better to do these days.”

  “Mm.” David muttered his agreement then took his leave, making his way slowly to his horse, hoping to hear something useful. He was not ready to approach the Revenue men, even with the King’s authority, for fear it would compromise his position. He kept his hat down low and fiddled with his saddlebags, trying to listen.

  “Are you certain it is not a dummy run? The last three times there have been nothing but fishermen,” the navy man said quietly yet with obvious frustration.

  “Of course I cannot be certain! I do not have reliable sources nor enough men to keep a look-out, but I swear they are loading in the water, and I cannot be here and there!”

  “Very well, I will send out a patrol on Sunday night. Pray you will be right this time.”

  “I am afraid I cannot justify extra men on the ground until there is more concrete evidence,” the army man added.