Mary Nichols – Sir Ashley's Mettlesome Match (страница 2)

And then she was in for another shock. He was not in his bed, had never been to bed by the look of it. Had he also been out with the smugglers? She had not seen him, but then she had not dared show her face—recognising anyone would have been impossible. He had certainly not been one of the seven who had been arrested and herded so close to where she was hidden. Now she was in a quandary. Should she wait until Nat came home or alert her aunt?

She went back to the stables and climbed the ladder to Joe Sadler’s quarters, banging on his door loudly enough to rouse him. After a few minutes he opened the door. He was wearing a hastily donned nightshirt over his breeches, his hair was ruffled and he was pretending to yawn as if woken from sleep. She was not deceived; the bottoms of his trousers were wet. ‘Miss Kingslake!’ he exclaimed, genuinely surprised. ‘What are you doing up in the middle of the night?’

‘Never mind what I am doing. Do you know where my brother is?’

‘No, ma’am. Is he not in his bed?’ ‘No. Was he on the beach with you?’ ‘On the beach?’ he queried, feigning ignorance. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I am not stupid, Joe. I know what has been going on. I saw you all down there, unloading cargo.’ ‘You should have stayed indoors, ma’am.’ ‘Then I would not have known what had happened to Ben, would I?’

‘Ben? Master Whitehouse?’ ‘Please do not be obtuse, Joe, you know whom I mean. He was taken by the dragoons along with six others. I need to rescue him and I cannot find Nat. Am I right in thinking he was one of the land party and he sanctioned the use of the horses?’

‘Oh, Miss Kingslake, you was never supposed to know about any of it. Someone tipped off the Customs and we had to scatter. Mr Kingslake will be home d’rectly.’

‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘In the meantime, you had better rub down the horses and settle them before the Customs come searching for goods and see they have been out.’ She paused as a new thought struck her. ‘You are not hiding any of the contraband here, are you?’

‘No, Miss Kingslake.’

She was not sure whether to believe him or not, but went back into the house. It was beginning to get light and Mrs Sadler, Joe’s mother, was busy in the kitchen, raking out the fire, ready to cook breakfast.

‘Lord a-mercy, Miss Pippa,’ she said as Pippa entered from the yard. ‘Whatever are you doing up so early?’

‘I went out to watch the boats come in.’

‘You never did! Whatever next! Don’t you know no one goes out on landing nights unless they have business with the free traders? They’d as soon kill you as let you go …’

‘The revenue men and dragoons came upon them with half the cargo still on the beach. Seven of the landing party were arrested …’

The plump woman, whose apple-red cheeks came from constantly working over a kitchen fire, turned pale. ‘Joe …’

‘He is home. I’ve just seen him.’

She let out a long breath. ‘Thank God for that.’

‘But my brother is out and my cousin has been arrested.’

‘No?’ She crossed herself. ‘Oh, Lord have mercy, for the justices won’t.’

‘We will have to get him out somehow. I was hoping Nat would be back by now. I wish I knew what had happened to him. I cannot believe he would leave Ben to his fate.’

‘He would not, Miss Pippa, you can be sure of that. Something prevented him.’

It was that which was worrying Pippa as she climbed the stairs to her aunt’s room to break the news to her. Where was Nat? Was he holed up somewhere safe, waiting for the furore to die down before coming home, or was he lying bleeding, perhaps dying, in one of the numerous channels across the marshes, unable to move? She dreaded the confrontation with her aunt, who would undoubtedly blame Pippa and Nat for the arrest of her beloved son.

The widowed Mrs Augusta Whitehouse had come to live at Windward House six months after Pippa’s parents had died leaving a seventeen-year-old Philippa and thirteen-year-old Nathaniel orphans. Aunt Augusta did not like Windward House; it was exposed to every wind that blew down from the Arctic, as she so often pointed out. It invaded every nook and cranny of the building and she never felt warm in spite of huge fires in every room, but nothing and no one would persuade her to leave her niece and nephew to their own devices, even though Pippa had said she was well able to manage with the servants they had.

‘Leave a seventeen-year-old not yet out in society to manage a household and her brother who seems not to know the meaning of discipline is not to be thought of,’she had declared. ‘I would be failing in my duty if I did not take you both under my wing.’ And so she had shut up her own house and come to Narbeach, bringing her six-year-old son with her. Benjamin, unlike his mother, loved Windward House and was soon into mischief with the village children and doting on his cousin Nat.

And look what it had led to, Pippa mused, as she rapped on her aunt’s bedchamber door and, bidden to enter, went in to find her aunt sitting up in bed, her long grey hair on her shoulders over which she had draped a thick shawl. The room was lit by the embers of the fire of the night before.

‘Philippa, what in heaven’s name are you doing up and about? It is the middle of the night. Has something happened?’

‘It is almost dawn,’ Pippa said. ‘And, yes, something has happened or I would not have wakened you. There was a landing last night …’

‘Everyone knows that. I keep my head under the blankets when I know the free traders are about. It has nothing to do with me.’

In spite of her concern, Pippa smiled. ‘Have you never drunk untaxed tea or taken a nip of illicit spirits, Aunt?’

‘Everyone does that. I ask no questions.’

‘Then ask yourself what Ben does when the gentlemen are about.’

‘Ben? I should think he sleeps, as I do.’

‘Not last night. I saw him arrested and taken away by the dragoons.’

‘Never.’ Augusta scrambled out of bed in one swift movement. She flung a dressing gown over her night-rail and dashed from the room, along the corridor to her son’s bedchamber. His bed had not been slept in. Then she rushed to Nat’s room, though Pippa could have told her he was not there.

‘Tell me,’ she demanded of her niece who had followed her. ‘What did you see?’

Pippa recounted exactly what had happened. ‘I was hoping Nat would know what to do, but he has disappeared,’ she finished.

‘I might have known. Nathaniel has led the boy astray. Ben didn’t know what he was doing. We will have to get him out somehow. You had better ask Sir Felix to intervene. The dragoons will take the captives to him; he will be the one to decide whether to send them for trial. He will help, I am sure.’

Pippa knew all that, but she was reluctant to go to him. Sir Felix Markham was the local squire and magistrate. He was twice widowed and made no secret of the fact that he had his eye on Pippa for wife number three. She did not like him. He was fat and over fifty and could not keep his hands to himself when they found themselves in the same company. Being beholden to him for a favour went against the grain. ‘I would rather wait for Nat to come home. He can do it.’

‘We dare not delay.’ Augusta was hurrying back to her own room as she spoke, followed by Pippa. ‘Once Ben has been sent to the Assizes, it will harder to get him set free. Where is Nathaniel anyway?’

‘I do not know.’

‘Was he on the beach?’

‘I did not see him.’

‘A fine kettle of fish this has turned out to be. I am beginning to wonder why I ever bothered to come here to live. You and your scapegrace brother both go your own way, whatever I say. You should have been wed by now and bringing up a family, not rushing all over the countryside like a hoyden and writing books. That is no occupation for a lady. No wonder Edward Cadogan changed his mind about marrying you.’

‘Aunt, that was six years ago and long forgotten.’ It wasn’t forgotten, not by Pippa, but the memory was too humiliating to talk about and it was better to pretend it was of no consequence.

‘Hmph,’ was her aunt’s reply to that. ‘Why did you go out anyway?’

‘I wanted to know about the smugglers for my next book. Reading about them is not the same as seeing them on a dark and windy night with danger all around.’

‘No, I do not suppose it is,’ her aunt said repressively. ‘Had you thought of what might happen if you had been arrested too?’

‘It would be an experience,’ Pippa said, more to bait her aunt than because she welcomed the idea. She realised almost at once that she was being unkind when her aunt was so anxious about her son. ‘I was well hidden.’

‘No doubt that is why you have sand in your hair and all over your clothes. Go and change. If the Customs Officers come here, they will see at once where you have been. And dress respectably. We are going to pay a call on Sir Felix. I think a demure, frightened young woman will fit the bill.’

‘Aunt, I am neither demure, nor frightened.’

‘Well, you should be. Off with you, while I dress.’ She clapped her hands to summon her maid from the adjoining room, still addressing Pippa. ‘Go and tell Mrs Sadler we will breakfast early, then tell Joe to harness the carriage. We have not a moment to lose.’