Secrets in the Mist Read online

  I didn’t need to be told twice. He chuckled as I thrust my cup into his hands and swiftly set to work on the buttons. The breeze felt heavenly against the skin revealed at my neckline and my forearms as I peeled the garment off. I tipped my head back, heedless of the sun shining down on my face and the way the items concealed in my bonnet shifted against my skull. I was still not comfortable wrapped in all the layers of fabric, but at least I felt some relief.

  A shadow fell over my face and I blinked open my eyes to find Jack standing very close to me. My body tingled in awareness as I stared up at his chiseled jaw. Surely he didn’t intend to kiss me here in full view of the crew and the other boats on the river.

  His gaze cut to the side, and I followed his eyes toward a boat floating a short distance to our right.

  “It’s a revenue cutter,” he explained in a low, conversational tone.

  I quickly grasped the situation. He had moved nearer to block the customs men from getting a clear view of me and my awkwardly padded figure.

  “Just try to behave normally,” he instructed and I bit back a frown.

  That was easy for him to say. Perhaps he was accustomed to standing so close to women that the tips of his boots disappeared under the hems of their skirts, but I was not used to handsome men touching me. I swallowed, as conscious of him as I was of the revenue cutter, which seemed to be pacing us. Perhaps I shouldn’t have removed my pelisse. What if they decided to board us?

  “Grape?” He offered me a small bunch of the tart white globes, and I took them almost without thinking, so surprised by his casual demeanor. “We’ve cheese, and apples, some cold pheasant, and crusty bread as well.” He began sorting through the contents of a hamper I’d not yet noticed, though presumably the lemonade I’d drunk had come from inside it. “Aha!” He smiled, brandishing a small tin. “And some marzipan.” He slid open the lid of the container to reveal the honeyed treats shaped like tiny pieces of fruit.

  “I haven’t eaten marzipan in years,” I gasped. “Not since I was a child. Where did you get it?”

  “There are advantages to my line of work,” he replied with a teasing grin, still keeping his voice soft so the others could not overhear. “Would you like a piece?”

  “Maybe later.” I popped a grape into my mouth and glanced beyond his shoulder to see if the revenue cutter was still following us. It appeared they’d lost interest, drifting towards a ship floating near the opposite bank of the river.

  Jack followed my gaze. “Once we pass Runham and the mouth of the River Bure, we should be in the clear. Occasionally revenue cutters patrol farther into the Broads, but they mostly focus on the coast. They rely on riding officers to handle matters farther inland.”

  I chewed another grape slowly as I glanced around at the other men positioned around the wherry. None of them looked the least bit alarmed, though Dibs seemed to be cleaning his knife with a bit too much fervor. Harry looked up to meet my gaze, his eyes hard and watchful as always.

  Once I’d finished the grapes, Jack handed me a piece of salty Cheshire cheese, before pulling an apple out of the basket and beginning to cut it into wedges. He would pass me a slice and then pop the second in his mouth, alternating between us. I couldn’t help grinning.

  “What?” he asked, looking up at me through his eyelashes.

  I swallowed the bite in my mouth. “It’s just that I told Captain Haywood you didn’t feed me, and here you are doing just that.”

  His expression turned quizzical.

  “He told me to tell you to buy me a box of sweetmeats instead of fripperies. But I told him you don’t buy me things, least of all food.” I gestured toward him holding the apple and a knife, and the hamper resting on the canvas covering the hold. “But here you are.”

  Jack returned my smile. “I’m just having difficulty picturing Haywood uttering something so motherly. What did you two talk about?”

  I shrugged. “He just noticed how thin I was.”

  His eyebrows quirked. “And how did he do that when you’re wearing such a voluminous dress?”

  I dropped my gaze. “He insisted he had to stay with me when I secreted away the cargo.”

  He sunk his knife deep into the apple with a juicy snick. “Did he, now?”

  I risked a glance at him, finding his jaw tight with displeasure.

  “And what else did he insist upon?”

  “That’s all. I wasn’t happy to have to…to…” I waved my hand “…in front of him, but he kept his distance.” I rolled the last of my piece of cheese between my fingers. “He said you wouldn’t mind him watching, but he knew better than to touch me.”

  Jack extracted his knife and skillfully resumed slicing the apple. “Well, I do mind.”

  I felt a strange thrill at his vengeful tone, knowing he was aggrieved on my behalf. I nibbled on the wedge of apple he passed me, scolding myself for being ridiculous. These men were smugglers. Jack was a smuggler. I shouldn’t be feeling anything beyond mild courtesy. Even so, my private elation never ceased.

  In fact, it only grew as the wherry boat passed the mouth of the River Bure and then crossed the wider expanse of Breydon Water before slipping deeper into the marshes. My smile broadened with each mile placed between us and Yarmouth, and I was even better able to tolerate the warmth created by the layers of fabric wrapped around me. Soon Rory and Dibs joined me in my good spirits, jesting with me and each other and passing a bottle of gin back and forth.

  The knowledge that I’d just done something so daring and illegal, and gotten away with it, was intoxicating. Was this how it always felt? This rush of relief and then euphoria? If so, I now better understood why these smugglers risked it. It wasn’t just for the money. It was exhilarating, and I could see in their eyes that they felt much the same way. Even Harry, who remained stalwart and sober at the helm. Perhaps they didn’t feel it to the same extent I did, for this was my first time and I’d shouldered much of the risk, but they all sipped some of the same golden ambrosia.

  As planned, we docked at the outbuildings beyond the gardens at Greenlaws. I slipped into the watchmen’s shelter to remove the contraband wound about me and tucked into my pockets. As the last cloth fell away from my body, I slouched in relief. I would have liked to collapse into one of the chairs, but I knew better than to dawdle. Even with Jack guarding the door, I didn’t trust Harry not to barge in whenever he wished.

  As if on cue, just as I finished retying the sash of my dress someone tapped on the wooden door. “Come in,” I called.

  Jack peeked his head around the door, and upon seeing I was fully dressed and ready, strode into the room with Harry close behind. They examined the objects I’d smuggled off the Reliance while I folded the pile of fabrics I had dropped in an unceremonious heap in my eagerness to be free of them.

  “Was the bonnet handy, then?” Jack asked in his rougher voice.

  “Yes. I hid the jewels there.”

  He nodded and picked up the oilskin package. But before he could open it, Harry snatched it from his grasp.

  “I’ll deliver these to Himself,” he said, tucking the bag of jewels in his pocket and the oilskin under his arm. He paused to look me in the eye. “I had me doubts, but ye done well. Better ’n I’d hoped, anyway.”

  I didn’t answer, uncertain whether his words were meant to express his compliments or his disappointment. Regardless, he didn’t seem to require a reply. He exited the building, leaving the door open behind him.

  “Where are Rory and Dibs?” I asked Jack, thinking they and the others would want to view the spoils.

  “They’ve gone on to the White Horse to celebrate. But I don’t think you’ll wish to join them.”

  “No,” I replied, somewhat surprised to hear the two bands of smugglers consorted so frequently. This wasn’t the first time the men had gone to Thurlton for a drink. It was the closest village, and consequently the closest pub, but I was sure they were aware of the publican’s other activities.

  “Shall
I escort you home?” Jack asked.

  “Yes. I suppose that would be best.” I felt dissatisfied somehow, and not ready for this exhilaration to end. I forced a bright smile, snatched up my pelisse and bonnet, and reached for his hand. “But let’s walk. Through the gardens,” I added, arching my eyebrows in challenge, before pulling him through the door after me. I knew such a venture was risky, but I didn’t care. Besides, what were the chances that someone from Greenlaws would see us?

  But Jack felt differently. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he protested, though I could tell it was half-hearted at best.

  “Of course it is.”

  He laughed. “Ella, you’re excited from the thrill of escaping danger. That’s understandable. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t still use your common sense.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket. We’re just going for a stroll,” I teased, tossing him a flirtatious glance over my shoulder.

  I hurried us onto the path leading through the arbor where I’d encountered him that day almost a fortnight ago. But that’s where Jack’s good-natured cooperation ceased.

  He pulled me to a stop and turned me to face him. “Ella, we can’t. And you know it.”

  His bronzed skin was dappled with the sunlight shining through the trellis, and his dark hair curled about his head in wind-blown disarray. I wasn’t sure if it was his roguish disorder, or the scent of the clematis vines above us, or my own reckless elation—perhaps it was all three—but I arched up on my toes and kissed him.

  At first, Jack seemed surprised. I’d never initiated our embraces before. But he swiftly recovered, pulling me into his arms and deepening the kiss. I smiled against his mouth, until the sweep of his fingers over the back of my neck fractured all my other thoughts, focusing them solely on his touch.

  When he pulled back, I found I had one hand in his hair while the other gripped his jacket lapel. However, his gaze was fastened beyond me, and I suddenly realized we weren’t alone. I turned my head slowly to see Robert standing at the opposite end of the arbor.

  I released Jack and stepped back, but I knew it was too late. Robert had seen us. I had no way of knowing how long he’d been standing there, but he had certainly witnessed at least part of our kiss. Hot shame flooded me, filling my cheeks. I glanced at Jack, who stood still, watching me as if already certain of my next action. I opened my mouth, but no words emerged, until I saw Robert pivot and begin to walk away.

  “Robert,” I cried, knowing I had to say something.

  He didn’t stop.

  “I’m sorry,” I stammered to Jack. “I…” But words were useless. I shook my head and stooped to pick up my bonnet where I must have dropped it—the bonnet Jack had given me—before chasing after Robert. I would address whatever was between me and Jack later. First I needed to speak with Robert, to try to explain.

  I emerged from the arbor to see the back of Robert disappearing through the archway trimmed into the hedges on the opposite side of the ash tree terrace. Lifting my skirts, I darted through another opening to the left, hoping I could catch him up by cutting through the rose garden. I weaved around the thorny bushes, their buds already clipped for the season, and hurried toward the ivory trellis spanning over the other entrance. However, the sound of giggling brought me up short. I swiveled to my right to encounter my second shock of the afternoon.

  Kate leaned against the latticed wall of a small gazebo built into the corner of the garden, laughing as Harry leaned over to murmur something in her ear. I must have gasped or made some sort of sound, for they both looked up as one. I expected them to jump apart guiltily, as Jack and I had, but they didn’t seem to care that I’d seen them. If anything, Harry appeared indifferent, but then I’d grown accustomed to his lack of concern for me or my good opinion. It was Kate’s expression that cut me to the quick.

  Her brow furrowed and her mouth tightened in displeasure. “Ella. Did you need something?”

  “No.” I shifted uncomfortably as they continued to stare at me in thinly veiled annoyance. “Actually, I was following Robert.”

  “Well, as you can see, he’s not here.”

  “Yes. I know. I thought to catch him up by slipping through here.” I fell silent, glancing awkwardly between them. I wanted to say something to Kate, to ask what she was doing with this wherry man, but how could I do so with him standing beside her? I didn’t wish to embarrass her, but could she truly be consorting with such a man?

  Then again, wasn’t that exactly what I was doing with Jack? I flushed at the implication. No matter his birth and his education, he was now a smuggler. I should not be kissing him. And Kate should not be kissing Harry.

  I tried to find the words to say this to her, but she cut me off before they came.

  “Then you’d better hurry,” she declared, turning her back to me in obvious dismissal.

  A sour taste flooded my mouth at her cold demeanor, and I hurried to comply, as eager now to be away from her as she was to be rid of me. I glanced behind me just once as I passed beneath the trellis, to find Kate and Harry still watching me, their heads close together in whispered conversation. I couldn’t help but wonder if Kate knew what Harry was. Was she more knowledgeable of the activities transpiring in the outbuildings at Greenlaws than I’d assumed? I’d dismissed the possibility she was involved before, but now I wasn’t so certain.

  A weight settled in my chest, heavier than any that had fallen there before. Kate had always been my one true friend, the one person I knew I could rely on through thick and thin. But perhaps I’d been wrong. Perhaps I was a bigger fool than I’d realized.

  I hastened away, knowing I was too late to intercept Robert before he exited the gardens. At the edge of the lawn, I stopped to look about me, uncertain where he’d gone. If he’d returned to the house I wasn’t sure I wished to follow. It seemed wise to keep our argument away from the curious ears of servants.

  I glanced toward the river, wondering where he’d been headed when he happened upon me and Jack under the arbor. Had he been on his way to the outbuildings? To inspect the cache of items I’d smuggled?

  Not for the first time I considered whether Robert could be “Himself.” I found it difficult to believe his presence so near the outbuildings so soon after our return from Yarmouth was just a coincidence. But then again, Greenlaws was his property. He didn’t need an excuse to stroll through his own gardens.

  I pressed a hand to my forehead, suddenly overcome with weariness. All the elation I’d felt such a short time ago had drained away, leaving me with an aching back from the tight restraint of the fabrics when they were wrapped about me and the beginnings of a megrim. It was time to return home. My conversation with Robert could wait. Maybe by then I would have a better idea of what I wanted to say to him.

  Or at least a better idea of what I didn’t.

  Chapter 24

  U

  nfortunately, Robert seemed to have changed his mind. I’d no sooner returned to Penleaf Cottage and settled into a chair at the kitchen table while Mrs. Brittle brewed tea, than through the open windows we heard a horse cantering down the road from Thurlton. Fearful that it was Watkins or one of the other riding officers, we scrambled to our feet. Mrs. Brittle shuffled to the front door while I dashed into Father’s study to retrieve any bottles left behind from the night before. Fortunately, Father was closeted in his bedchamber upstairs.

  When I returned to the hall, Mrs. Brittle shook her head. “It’s no’ that devil, but Mr. Rockland.”

  I stumbled to a halt.

  “He looks fair worked up.” She squinted. “Would ye ken why?”

  The sounds of his heavy footfalls crossing the porch spurred me into action. I pressed the empty brandy bottle I’d found into Mrs. Brittle’s hands as Robert’s fist pounded on the door. I cringed, praying his banging wouldn’t wake Father.

  I pulled open the door to see Robert’s scowling visage made red with either anger or exertion. “Ella, I must speak with you,” he procl
aimed loud enough for the people a mile away in Thurlton to hear.

  “Yes, yes,” I snapped, forcing him to step backward as I exited the cottage and shut the door behind me. “But not here.” Before he could protest, I pushed past him, leaving the porch to circle around the house. I trusted he would follow.

  “Where are we going?” he demanded. “Ella?”

  I didn’t answer until we’d put a decent amount of distance between us and the house. “Away from the cottage.”

  “Why? Because of your father? Maybe he should hear this.”

  I turned to glare at him.

  “I won’t mince words, Ella. Perhaps if he took more of an interest in your comings and goings this conversation wouldn’t be necessary.”

  “Yes, well, if he cared to take an interest many things would be unnecessary,” I snapped back. Having reached the edge of our lawn where it met the marshes and the path leading down to our dock, I pivoted to face him. “But things are as they are. Neither of us can change that now.” I crossed my arms, frowning forlornly at Penleaf Cottage behind him. From this angle I could see that more roof shingles had fallen off the eaves over my bedchamber window, probably in the rainstorm a few nights past.

  Robert smacked his riding crop against his thigh in agitation, reclaiming my attention. “Ella, I’m furious with you.”

  “I know,” I replied in a more subdued voice.

  “Why were you embracing that wherry man? How long has this been going on?”

  I didn’t reply immediately, not wanting to admit exactly how long I’d been meeting Jack, even when he’d only been the Lantern Man to me. But my silence spoke for itself, and Robert whirled away with an angry scoff of disbelief.

  “I’m sorry, Robert. It wasn’t something I planned.”

  “I respectfully offered you marriage. And I didn’t argue when you said you needed time to consider. I didn’t even press you for your answer, though I couldn’t understand why you would need longer than a few days. I told myself you were just punishing me for what had happened when we were younger, to give you just a little more time. But this,” he hissed, rounding on me. His lip curled in disgust. “What has become of you?”