Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife Read online

  ‘That’s just what I bin tellin’ her,’ said Silas, appearing at the door. ‘I’ll be fine as soon as I gets me sea-legs.’

  He swayed as he spoke. Aggie and Eve both rushed to take his arms and help him to his chair.

  ‘You ain’t goin’ nowhere,’ Aggie told him crossly. ‘You’d be a danger to yourself and to the boys.’

  ‘She’s right, I’m afraid, Silas,’ said Eve.

  Silas hunched in his chair, scowling. Eve took the older woman’s shoulders and looked into her face. ‘Why is it so important to go out tonight, Aggie?’

  ‘It’s the last run. You will remember, miss, that Silas promised they would do no more once the orders was filled, but John the waggoner and his son are gone off to Ashurst and we daren’t wait for their return, because the moon’s on the wane. It has to be tonight.’

  ‘But there must be other men in the village.’

  Aggie shook her head. ‘Since Sam and Nat had the run-in with that other gang, the village lads is afeard to go out. So with Silas laid up they’re too short-handed.’

  ‘Well, you cannot go,’ said Eve decidedly. She stood for a moment, tapping her foot. ‘What time do you expect Nathaniel here?’

  ‘Soon as it’s properly dark.’

  ‘Then I have half an hour. I can be back by then.’

  Silas looked up. ‘What d’you mean, mistress?’

  ‘Miss Eve, what are you going to do?’ demanded Aggie suspiciously.

  Eve turned, her eyes shining with mischief. ‘Why, go in your place, of course!’

  Eve hurried back to the house, dismissed her escort and ran lightly up the stairs to her bed chamber, calling for Martha as she went. By the time the maid arrived Eve had pulled a selection of clothes from the trunk at the bottom of the bed. ‘Quickly, Martha; help me out of this gown.’

  ‘Whatever are you about now, mistress?’

  ‘You must not ask me,’ replied Eve. She was unable to keep the excitement from her voice, nor could she resist confiding in her maid, ‘I am going out.’

  ‘You never are, madam!’

  ‘Yes, I am.’ Eve stepped out of her skirts and reached for the soft leather breeches. ‘But you are not to tell anyone.’

  ‘Heavens to mercy! You cannot be going out in those!’

  ‘I am. I only hope Mama’s clothes fit me…they do, thank goodness!’

  ‘Miss Eve—’ Martha put her hands to her mouth. ‘You’re never goin’ out with the traders?’ She collapsed on to the bed. ‘Oh, gracious heart-alive!’

  ‘Hush, Martha. Now where is the shirt—? Oh, and my hair, I cannot possibly wear it like this. Quick, now, remove the pins and I’ll tie it back…there, what do you think?’

  ‘I think it is a dreadful idea, Miss Eve, and I cannot let you go!’

  ‘If you try to stop me, I shall turn you off,’ retorted Eve, giving Martha such a fierce look that the maid went pale.

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ she whispered.

  ‘Of course not, as long as you do as I bid you.’

  ‘But what would the master say!’

  ‘The master is not here,’ replied Eve. ‘And if he was, it is just the sort of thing he would do.’

  Eve clapped the battered tricorn hat upon her head and stared at herself in the mirror. In the flickering candle light a stranger stared back at her. The tricorn shaded her eyes, leaving only the mouth and chin visible, and if Eve considered these far too dainty for a man, she thought that at least she could not be recognised. The breeches were close-fitting, but thank fully she could still move in them, and the shirt billowed out from her shoulders, adequately disguising her form. ‘It will have to do,’ she said, dragging on the dark woollen jacket.

  ‘You need a muffler around your neck,’ said Martha. ‘You must make sure every bit of that shirt is covered and your face, too; your pale skin will show up bright as day under this moon.’

  ‘Martha, how do you know about such things?’

  ‘You can’t live in these parts without knowing something of the trade,’ retorted the maid. ‘But oh, Miss Eve, I wish you would not go.’

  ‘I have to, Martha. They are my people out there and they need me.’ She drew herself up as she said these words, a frisson of pride threading through her excitement. She kissed her maid. ‘Now, you had best come down and lock the door after me. And remember, tell no one I am gone!’

  Eve slipped out of the kitchen door and stopped for a moment, listening until she heard Martha slide the bolts back into position, then she ran silently through the garden and across the park to the Gate House. The moon that had been so full during her visit to Chelston Hall was no more than a sliver, giving barely enough light for her to find her way and she guessed that anyone watching would see little more than a shadow flitting between the trees. She arrived, breathless, at the Gate House and scratched at the door.

  ‘Miss Eve, I cannot like this,’ muttered Aggie as she let her into the house. She led the way through to the little kitchen, where Nathanial was waiting, twisting his cap in his hands. His mouth gaped when the saw her in her coat and breeches. Eve merely nodded at him.

  ‘Good evening, Nat, I see you are wearing a smock, too—must I wear one?’

  ‘The boys all do, mistress,’ said Aggie. ‘It’s common garb here on the Marsh. That way the ridin’ officers can’t tell one from t’other.’

  ‘Then I should put it on, I suppose. Help me, Aggie. There.’ She grinned at them. ‘Well, will I do?’

  ‘Nay, mistress.’ Nathanial cast an anguished look towards his mother.

  Eve’s grin disappeared. ‘For heavens’ sake, Nathanial! Would you rather it was your mother out on the marshes with you? I can handle the ponies as well as Silas—’ she paused, then added with a touch of irrepressible humour, ‘and run a great deal faster, if necessary.’

  ‘I’d rather it was neither of you,’ mumbled Nat.

  ‘Now that is very uncharitable.’

  ‘Well you mun promise to do just as I say,’ he retorted, gaining a little courage.

  ‘Of course I will.’ He did not look very reassured by her assertion and she put her hand on his arm, saying gently, ‘I have no wish to ruin your last run, Nathanial, but Aggie says you need an extra pair of hands, and I am offering you mine.’

  Nathanial frowned at her for a long moment, then he seemed to make up his mind. He straightened. ‘Well then,’ he said, ‘Let us be off.’

  They walked for a mile or so along the shadowy lane until they reached a cross roads, where Nathanial gave a low whistle. At first, Eve could hear no sound on the still air, but after a few moments there was the faint clop of hoof beats. Black shapes appeared, a line of ponies led by a stocky figure, his face a pale disc in the moon light.

  ‘Gabriel.’ Nathanial’s murmured greeting received only a grunt in reply, but there must have been some whispered question about her presence for she heard Nathanial say, ‘Oh, he’s my cousin’s boy, from Tenterden-way.’

  The man called Gabriel peered in her direction, Eve lowered her head so that the brim of her hat shadowed her face.

  He grunted again.

  ‘And Robert and Adam?’ muttered Nathaniel.

  Gabriel jerked his head. ‘Bob’s ’ere. Adam’s comin’ in on the galley with Sam. That’s all the help we could muster this night.’ Gabriel beckoned to them to follow him.

  For the next few hours Eve found herself in a dark, alien world where familiar objects such as houses or trees loomed black and menacing around them. All her senses were heightened, every nerve alert to pick up the merest hint of danger. She strained her eyes to see through the near-darkness, and once she grabbed at Nathanial’s arm. ‘Look!’ she hissed, pointing. ‘A light over there!’

  The pack stopped and for a moment there was a tense silence. Then she heard Nat’s low rumbling laugh. ‘It’s nought but a shiney bug. You’ve seen they before, surelye.’

  Eve was aware of the grins of the other men and she hastily begged pardon, hunched her shoulde
rs and walked on, berating herself for allowing her nerves to get the better of her.

  ‘Come up, Admiral.’

  Nick touched his heels to the horse’s glossy sides and the animal responded immediately. Soon they were moving through the lanes at a steady canter. There was no time to lose, but to press Admiral to go too fast across the dark, unfamiliar territory was to risk a fall at best, and a broken neck at worst, neither of which would help his cause. He had learned only an hour ago that Captain George had received word of a run tonight at Jury’s Cut. Privately, Nick had no doubt that it would be Silas and the boys, but although he argued strongly that these could not be Chelston’s men, the Revenue officer knew his duty. He could not ignore the report and had despatched a party of riding officers to apprehend the smugglers. Nick was powerless to stop them. His only hope was to reach Silas in time and warn him.

  The pale moon light illuminated a stretch of flat, clear ground and he pushed Admiral on to a gallop. He could have found someone to carry the message for him, someone who knew the area better than he, but at the back of his mind was the thought that once he had discharged his errand he might call at Monkhurst. He laughed out loud, causing Admiral to throw up his head, nervously breaking his stride. ‘Fool, it will be gone midnight by the time you get there,’ he muttered to himself. No matter. He would wait until dawn, creep into her room and be there when she awoke.

  He thought of Eve as he had last seen her at Chelston Hall, warm and drowsy with sleep, her hair tumbled over her shoulders. Damnation, just the thought of it made him hot for her! He eased himself in the saddle. Better not even to think of Eve until he had delivered his message.

  He pushed on, cantering past Monkhurst village and through the leafy lanes until the Gate House was in view. He judged it was gone midnight and Silas might already have set off. Suddenly he was aware of a movement to his left. He pulled Admiral to a halt in the shadow of the trees and peered into the darkness.

  ‘Richard!’ His call brought the figure to a stop. Nick walked his horse forward. ‘Richard? What are you doing here?’

  ‘It’s Mrs Wylder, sir.’ Granby ran towards him. For once he had lost his imperturbable calm. Fear chilled Nick’s bones. He said tersely, ‘Well, man?’

  ‘She’s gone off with Nat and Sam to Jury’s Cut!’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Eve had no idea how long they walked in the near-darkness. Their progress was silent save for the gentle clip-clop of the ponies and the creak of leather harness. Eve wanted to ask Nathanial where they were going, but she was afraid to speak and break the hush that lay over them like a palpable blanket, so she merely walked, striding out in her mother’s old leather boots. It was a still night and only the lightest of breezes stirred the leaves. The steady walking gave her far too much time to think of Nick, and the darkness in her mind was even thicker and more engrossing that the night. She knew now that she loved him, but although she knew he wanted her she thought that his passion for her was cooling. What else could explain the way he had accepted her rebuttal at Chelston Hall? Twice now she had refused him and twice he had walked away. She was very much afraid that he no longer found her attractive. In fact, she thought miserably, he must be regretting ever having married her.

  And did she regret Nick coming into her life and dragging her out of her cosy little world? If I had not met him, I would not have disguised myself and searched Lord Chelston’s office. Nor would I now be walking through the near-darkness to collect a cargo of contra band. Even as the words formed in her head, Eve realised with a little jolt of surprise that she would have been very sorry to miss the visit to Chelston Hall and, in a strange way, she was even enjoying being out on the Marsh in the middle of the night.

  Eventually they left the houses and farms behind and the lane was no longer shadowed by high hedges. Instead deep ditches lined the causeway and the land stretched away on either side, a vast, flat expanse of marsh land where the faint, salty breeze whispered through the rushes.

  Eve could smell the sea and make out the line of sand dunes that rose up to meet the midnight-blue sky in the distance. A few yards away a narrow channel of water wound like a pewter ribbon through the Marsh towards the inlet known as Jury’s Cut. Eve could feel the tension in her com pan ions now: this was where Nathanial and Sam had been attacked and she looked about her nervously, her body tense and ready for flight.

  Suddenly Nathanial stopped. The ponies came to a stand, blowing gently. Eve heard a short, low whistle and a quiet splash of oars. A long, low boat nosed its way between the rushes. Several figures leaped out and pulled the hull up on to more solid ground.

  The men worked quickly and silently to unload the boat. Nathanial pulled Eve into line and she found herself part of a human chain, passing goods hand to hand from ship to shore. Her arms began to ache and soon she was un com fort ably warm in her smock and heavy coat, but she dare not remove them, nor unwind the concealing muffler from the lower part of her face. She realised now why they needed more men. There was some distance between the boat and the causeway where the ponies waited patiently to be loaded. When goods were passed she had to reach out to take each packet and stretch to pass it on to her neighbour. The bundles wrapped in oilcloth were weighty enough, but the half-ankers, the small barrels holding the brandy, were so heavy she had to take a step each time to complete the operation.

  At last the final barrel had been strapped to a pony and the last packet of lace tucked away in a pannier. Eve eased her aching back and watched as half the men pushed the galley off the mud and began to row away, the oars dipping almost silently into the grey waters. A touch on her arm told her that they were ready to move off and she clambered back to the causeway where the ponies were already beginning the trek back inland. She tugged at Nathanial’s sleeve. ‘The last pony carries no pack,’ she whispered.

  Nat grinned, his teeth gleaming briefly in the pale light. ‘We always keep one saddled and ready. In case.’

  ‘In case of what?’

  ‘Just in case.’

  He put his hand to his lips and strode ahead. Eve followed on, puzzled and determined to demand an explanation as soon as they were safe.

  The crescent moon hung low in the sky by the time the first farm came into sight, a black outline in the distance. Eve realised how tense she had become and made a conscious effort to relax her shoulders. Soon they would reach the comparative shelter of the tree-lined lanes again. She was about to say as much to Nathanial when there was a warning growl from the head of the line.

  ‘Riding officers. Run!’

  The ponies began to trot, their packs creaking ominously.

  ‘Where are they?’ muttered Eve, peering into the darkness.

  Nathanial raised his hand and pointed. ‘Between the barns over there.’

  Eve only had time for one swift look. The black ness between the tall square outlines of buildings was shifting and moving. Riders, and they were coming swiftly towards them. When they realised their quarry had spotted them, the riders abandoned their stealthy progress and shouted, their cries carrying on the night air.

  ‘Stop, in the name of the King!’

  Nathaniel pushed Eve before him. ‘Run.’

  The little ponies moved with surprising speed and Eve followed, her heart pounding. The road snaked between deep drains and on one corner stood a small copse of stunted trees, which screened their flight from the pursuing riders. A sudden slackening of the ponies’ pace made Eve look up. At the head of the line, Sam was leading the ponies off the road and into the ditch. She gasped, expecting the animals to plunge into deep water, but they merely dipped a few inches before disappearing into the shadows on the far side of the drain.

  ‘Where are they going?’ she asked Nathanial as one by one the ponies were swallowed up in the darkness.

  ‘Sunken causeway,’ he replied. ‘Once the fence and reeds are in place no one can see us.’ She heard him chuckle. ‘We’ve been doing this, man and boy, for so long that we’re ex
perts at fooling the Revenue.’

  As they trotted to the edge of the drain, Nathaniel untied the final pony and held him back while the others splashed across the ditch and into the darkness.

  ‘Come along, Miss Eve,’ called Sam with no attempt to hide her identity. ‘The water’s only ankle-deep.’

  She hesitated. ‘What about Nathaniel?’

  ‘I’m going to draw them off.’

  ‘But isn’t that dangerous in the dark?’ she asked.

  ‘No, these ponies know their way,’ said Nat. ‘Better’n the Revenue men anyway.’

  ‘Miss Eve, come on!’ Sam was already pulling the reed-covered panels into place.

  ‘Then let me go.’

  ‘No, by heaven!’ ex claimed Nat, revolted.

  Eve put her hand out and took the reins. ‘You must,’ she insisted. ‘I’m lighter than you and can make better time. And do not worry, I will find my way home.’

  Nathanial gasped as she pushed past him and scrambled into the saddle. He reached up as if to pull her from the pony, then stopped, unable to bring himself to lay hands upon a lady.

  ‘No, Miss Eve, ’tain’t proper! What would the master say?’

  ‘What would Aggie say if you were caught?’ she countered. ‘You and Sam have your families to think of. They need you.’ There is no one to miss me. She pushed aside the unspoken thought and said briskly, ‘Quick, now, they will be here any minute.’

  ‘Mistress, please!’

  ‘Go. We shall all be caught if you do not go now!’

  Nathanial hesitated for another moment, until Sam’s urgent hiss reminded him of the danger. He splashed through the water and helped Sam to put the final panels into place. Then there was silence.

  The water in the drain grew calm again, mirroring the starry sky. Eve looked at the high wall of reeds; there was no sign of an opening. She stood up in the stirrups, but could see nothing more than the reed tops, rippling and whispering in the breeze. The pony stamped im patiently, but she held him still, curbing her own im patience to be moving as she looked back for her first sight of the Revenue men. She did not have long to wait. A rumble like distant thunder grew steadily louder, and as the first rider appeared round the bend she dug her heels into the pony’s flanks and set off at a gallop. Shouts from her pursuers told her she had been seen. The race was on.