Malia Martin (18 page)

The subject of his marriage to Lady Prudence Farnsworth was foremost in the minds of every person residing in the town of Gravesly, it seemed.

James had been trying to get out of town for at least two hours. Harker had been the first to delay him. In fact, an entire bevy of men had bought him a pint and mourned the loss of James’s bachelor days. That had been his first inkling that Prudence had been very wrong about the reaction of the town to their tryst of the night before.

As James readied Devil for the short trip to Rye, Artie had spoken to him for twenty minutes about being honorable. The Sawyer children had regaled him for a half hour on the subject of Lady Farnsworth’s beauty and grace. And now he was actually sitting in Mrs. Witherspoon’s tiny parlor having tea.

“Now, Captain,” she said, after setting her teacup back in its saucer. This feat had taken a good five minutes, as the dear woman’s hands shook with extreme ferocity. “I must assume that as an officer you are also a gentleman.”

“I like to think so, Mrs. Witherspoon.” James took a tentative bite of the biscuit on his plate. It was actually quite good, so he took another, more hearty bite.

“Then, of course, we shall be preparing for a wedding?”

The biscuit suddenly became a huge lump of dough going down the wrong way. James coughed and sputtered as little Mrs. Witherspoon thumped on his back with the strength of ten men.

“What I mean to say, Captain,” Mrs. Witherspoon continued as she banged on James’s back, “is that we all adore Lady Farnsworth and think of her as family.” A huge whack followed this statement. “And so we do worry about her.”

Mrs. Witherspoon quit beating on him then, and James sat for a moment just breathing. He was rather sure she had set a kidney loose. “Mrs. Witherspoon,” he was finally able to say, “I have most definitely asked for Lady Farnsworth’s hand in marriage.”

“Good, then, are you going to take her away to London? Because that will never do. Oh, no, dear, that will never do.” Mrs. Witherspoon dumped at least a half a cup of sugar into her tea and stirred.

“You know Chesley House is hers. Her husband’s entailed estate is up near London somewhere. Chesley House was the dower house of his estate. He just loved it so that they spent all their time here. And, of course,” Mrs. Witherspoon continued quickly, “we do need Lady Farnsworth here.”

James blinked as his hostess poured half the cream into her tiny cup of tea. “Well, certainly, I shall stay until I bring the Wolf to justice.”

Mrs. Witherspoon laughed and waved her hand. “Oh, goodness, you are still about that wretched business?” She took a great gulp of her tea and made a satisfied sound deep in her throat.

“That wretched business is all that I am about, Mrs. Witherspoon.”

The tiny woman wiggled back against her chair and shook her head at him. “Bringing the Wolf to justice would be the downfall of this entire town, Captain. We would be unable to exist.” She took another deep drink of her tea.

“But I shall say no more. I just wanted to make sure that you would do right by Lady Farnsworth.” She grinned at him. “It is so nice to have such a handsome man about the place. I am glad you’ve decided to stay. Now drink your tea, boy.”

And James drank.

He was starting to realize that you just did not go up against Mrs. Witherspoon. But he did wonder about the woman’s insistence that the Wolf was good for Gravesly.

He was finally able to extract himself from Mrs. Witherspoon’s and turned up the street once again to collect Devil from Artie’s care.

“Ho there, Captain Ashley.” Josh Harker clapped him on the shoulder. “Been drinking sweet tea with Mrs. Witherspoon, have you?”

James laughed. “Her tea must have been extremely sweet.”

“Ah, yes, our Mrs. Witherspoon. She likes her sugar and good strong ale.”

“It is amazing that she is still a seamstress, the way her hands shake, I mean.”

Harker laughed and shook his head. “Oh, she is mostly just the go-between now. People go in and tell her what they need, and she finds someone to do it. Lady Pru has been making the Sawyers’ little pinafores since the girls were born.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if someone else took over the shop?”

Harker stopped and just looked at James for a moment. “Probably, but then what would Mrs. Witherspoon do?”

James felt as if he were missing something, so he changed the subject. “Harker, tell me, why does everyone in town have a wolf carved into their doorframe?”

A beat went by in silence, and then Harker said quietly, “Think, Captain, of what these people’s lives would be like without the Wolf.”

“They would be rid of a criminal in their midst?”

Harker shook his head and glanced up the street, then turned to look again at James. “Captain, smuggling will happen no matter if the Wolf is around or not. I could be hanged for saying so, but the king’s taxes make it impossible for normal folk to get by without it. Some of the smuggling gangs around these parts are vicious, greedy people. Captain, if you had gone to one of these other towns, you would probably be dead by now.”

James only nodded at this, for he knew it to be true.

“The Wolf has kept our town together. We do not live with murder and crime. And we prosper.”

“But smuggling itself is a crime.”

Harker sighed, then silently shook his head. “So are starving children, Captain.” And the big man turned on his heel and marched down the street.

“A
ll right, then, out of bed, the lot of you!” James yanked the mattress out from under Pimpton. The young man rolled facefirst onto the hard wooden floor.

Lyle sat straight up in bed, his squinty eyes blinking at the light of James’s lantern.

“You two are about as useful as tits on a hog,” James yelled, and butted Pimpton’s side with the toe of his boot. “It’s prime smuggling time, and you gents are dreaming the night away in your cots. Pathetic.”

Pimpton had pushed himself off the ground and now stood shivering in nothing but his underclothing. The rain had finally stopped earlier that afternoon, but it had left a distinct chill in the air.

James made a sound of disgust. “Put your clothes on. We are going out.”

The two men glanced at each other as if they were wondering whether or not to do what James had just asked them.

“That was a direct order,” he bellowed, his pulse pounding in his neck. “Get dressed immediately. I will wait outside, which, by the way, has turned quite nippy. So make sure I’m not standing too long!” James’s voice got progressively louder until he was basically yelling the last few words. He pivoted on his heel, banged through the door, and threw it back on its frame as hard as he could. He absolutely could not abide lazy stand-about soldiers.

Fortunately, Lyle and Pimpton had gotten the message, for they were out the door in two minutes flat.

“Good then,” James said, when they came scrambling outside. “I’ve been along the beaches and haven’t detected a single movement or any activity. But I rode to Rye today and the excise officers there said they chased a ship late last night into the Channel. They believe it came from Gravesly Bay, which would mean that they either loaded or unloaded goods in this very town last night.”

This information had truly shocked James. The whole town had been at the party until an ungodly hour. He was starting to wonder if the Wolf and his gang were actually of the animal variety, living in caves somewhere. Either that, or they were ghosts, it seemed.

“Now,” James continued, “most probably there were goods unloaded. For, even if the ship were here to pick up wool, it would have brought a shipment of something to off-load as well. So now we need to find where the goods have gone.” James held his lantern a touch higher and peered at the men before him. “Any ideas, gentlemen?”

Pimpton had a completely blank look in his eyes as if he had not understood a word that James had just said. With a long sigh, James shifted his attention to the slightly more intelligent-looking Lyle. “Well?” he prompted.

“Uh,” Lyle said with all the conviction of a gnat.

No wonder the Wolf was so incredibly successful at his illegal undertakings. The excise officers of Gravesly had half a brain between the both of them, probably less, actually. “All right then,” James said. “Since I have combed the beaches and found nothing, we shall search farther inland.”

Again Lyle and Pimpton glanced at each other as if trying to gauge James’s seriousness. “I shall take the road out to the marsh. You, Pimp …”

“Oh, no, sir, I shall take the road to the marsh,” Lyle interrupted him. “That is to say, sir, I should rather I take the marsh, as it is, er, well, terribly, uh, marshy, sir.”

“Marshy?”

“I mean it is very dark there, sir, and hard to navigate. I would be able to do it rather better than you, sir, as I know my way around.” Lyle took a deep breath, and James realized that the boy was shaking. He frowned.

“Not necessary, Lyle. I will take the marsh.” There was something very strange going on here, and James was determined to get to the bottom of it. “You take the road into town, Lyle. And Pimpton.” James stopped and stared at the man for a moment. Pimpton’s mouth was open slightly, his eyes a bit crossed, and drool was forming on his lip. Surely, he was touched in the head. With a roll of his eyes, James said, “Why don’t you keep watch over the beaches?”

Nothing was going on at the beaches. James was rather sure of that, at least.

“But, really, sir …” Lyle started to protest. James just held up his hand.

“When I give an order, I expect direct compliance and definitely no questions. You are dismissed!”

The two men looked as if they both would rather jump from the cliffs right in front of them and dash themselves on the rocks. But they saluted rather badly and took off for the small stable behind the station.

Damn if there wasn’t something strange afoot this night.

“You should not be here,” Clifton grumbled.

“Oh, please, quit your griping and just work.” Pru hefted another sack from the wagon and threw it down to her butler, who then passed it on down the line of men that stretched through the murky, thigh-deep water to the high, dry ground where they were hiding last night’s shipment of tea.

“But if the captain were to find us …”

“The captain is out spying on a deserted beach, Clifton.” Pru tossed another sack down from the dwindling pile on the wagon. “He has no idea what happened last night. Not even a clue.”

“Let’s not speak of last night,” Clifton snapped.

Pru put a bit more strength behind her next throw, causing Clifton to stumble when the sack hit him at chest level. Pru was tired of all the fuss everyone was making over her tryst with the captain. The men were scuttling around giving her a wide berth and never looking at her directly. It was devilishly irritating.

A whistle pierced the chill night air, and the men below her froze. Pru held her breath, waiting. And then another whistle sounded, long then short. Someone approached, but it was friend not foe.

Splashes, the sound of hooves beating through the marsh. Pru twirled about, squinting through the dark and mist toward the newcomer.

She made out the gold buttons and braid of an officer and her heart stopped for a fraction of a second, then doubled its beat, pumping blood through her body so fast her fingers went numb.

Another second and Pru recognized Lyle. She closed her eyes for a moment and sent a little prayer of thanks toward heaven. Lyle and Pimpton were loyal to money, thank heavens, not the law.

Lyle splashed toward them, yanked hard on his reins pivoting his horse about next to the cart. “He is coming to the marsh.”

Pru let out a short burst of air from her lungs, her breath showing white in the icy darkness. They all knew whom Lyle meant.

The men scattered, melting into the night like the moon going behind a cloud. Clifton jumped to the seat of the cart and slapped the reins, as Lyle took off at a hard run.

Pru dropped to a crouch and wrapped her hands around the back of Clifton’s seat.

“Jump!” Clifton commanded her.

“No,” she said simply, gritting her teeth as they bumped over a rotted log.

“Jump!” Clifton yelled again.