My Lord Deceived (6 page)

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 recipients 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.

He couldn’t
ignore the possibility that there could be absolutely nothing going
on, and the incident resulting in the arrest of Andrew Ransley and
Jeremy Hawkshurst, had been a one-off incident. However, his years
in the Star Elite warned him that villagers living in places like
Bentney on Sea, tended to look after their own. Getting any one of
them to reveal dangerous secrets would be like trying to prise
blood out of a stone. Dogged persistence and determination usually
won in the end though, he just needed to find that one weak link
that he needed to uncover the truth. From the mulish look on Kat’s
face, it wasn’t going to be her.

Jonathan sighed
and he could stay and talk to her a bit more. “Are you going to the
harvest festival in a few weeks’ time?”

“Yes, I help
with the cider stall. Are you going to stay around that long?” The
words
this time
hovered in the air between them.

Jonathan took a
breath to assure her that he would, but stopped. In all honesty,
because of his work with the Star Elite, he couldn’t be sure where
he would be tomorrow let alone in several weeks’ time. For some
reason, he didn’t want to offer Kat assurances he couldn’t bring
about. It didn’t seem fair to give her false expectations but the
urge to ask her to go with him was so strong that for one brief
moment, he wished he had a normal life, far away from the Star
Elite and its dangers.

“I will be
there if I am able to arrange it, yes,” he replied. He felt
strangely uncomfortable being evasive with her. It just didn’t seem
right to start their relationship off with untruths or secrets
between them. If they had any chance of a future together, they had
to be honest with each other. That would mean he had to take her
into his confidence about what he really did while he was away, and
he couldn’t do that until he was positive that she was being honest
with him and not up to her ears in smuggled cargo. He mentally
sighed and wondered if all relationships were this complicated.

“I will take my
leave of you then and will see you tomorrow?” He waited only for
her confirming nod before he moved toward the back door.

“Aren’t you
going out that way?” Kat nodded toward the front door, the usual
entrance and exit point for visitors, and frowned when Jonathan
shook his head, a strange smile on his face.

“I prefer this
way.”

She studied his
back suspiciously as she followed him across the yard. She couldn’t
prevent her gaze flickering to the huge manure pile standing beside
the gate and she fought hard to keep her face bland, and the guilty
blush off her cheeks. At the gate she waited until he disappeared
from sight before she turned to stare at the manure. She didn’t
relish having to dig around in there to get the goods back, and
could hear Harrison and his men going about their searches in the
distance.

She could only
hope that the goods hadn’t been ruined while they lay festering
under the warm mound of Molly’s offerings. With a shudder, she
decided to leave them where they were for the time being and
hurried back inside to clean herself up. Later, when Billy was back
to help her and Harrison was completely out of the way, she would
see if there was anything left worth saving. If there was then she
had just, purely by chance, managed to find them a brand new hiding
place.

Once washed and
dressed, Kat walked the several miles over the cliff tops to the
nearby market town of Tattersnell. It was just after noon and the
place was a bustling hive of activity that created a cacophony of
noise within the small market square that almost deafened her. It
was impossible to think, much less have a conversation with anyone
that was any less than a shout. Still, Kat loved the energetic
throng as they hustled and bustled from one stall to the other. The
children played and squealed with delight as they chased the
various small livestock through the market traders and were scolded
occasionally when they toppled goods all over the floor when they
got too rambunctious.

Kat smiled at
one particularly evasive piglet and lifted her leg while the small
beast ran past. She smiled at her mother, and then frowned at the
worry evident on Agnes’ face.

“What’s
happened?”

“A couple of
the buyers haven’t arrived yet, and one doesn’t want the extra
goods.” Agnes cast a furtive glance around the market place. “We
can’t take it back Kat, we have far too much as it is. What do we
do now? We have nowhere to put it all.”

“I have found
somewhere new for the time being, so don’t worry too much,” Kat
hastened to assure her. She hated to see her mother so distressed,
and wondered whether this was all getting a bit too much for all of
them. Kat was fed up with having to spend her days running all over
the place and, while they had managed to set up a nice network of
purchasers, none of them ever lost sight of just how precarious
their position was.

Each time Kat
looked out of her window at Hester’s house, the realisation of just
what they were risking by being involved with the smuggling, was
strong. Luckily, Kat and Agnes had kept a tight hold on the purse
strings and had managed to secrete a growing stash of funds that
would tide them over. Whether it would be enough to keep them going
while they waited for the war to end though, she wasn’t sure. There
was no end of the war in sight and, while the taxes on even the
most basic goods remained exorbitant, they needed the extra
money.