Smuggler's Glory (31 page)

“
What?”

“
Well, he wants to know how to find the tunnel. Wouldn’t he
want Francesca here to show him, rather than out on a rugged
escarpment somewhere?”

“
We’re being set up again,” Archie spat, wiping his bloodied
knuckles down his breeches.

“
He’s already here,” Simon whispered, keeping his eyes on the
ground and his pose as casual as he thoughtfully unmoving as he
could make it.

“
Where did you leave the Frenchman?”

Pie
turned around. The Frenchman had vanished. While they had been
retrieving the note and their attention was diverted, the Frenchman
had made his escape.

“
Oh, he’s good,” Simon whispered. “He’s very good.”

“
We’re better,” Pie replied.

“
Why send us to the escarpment though?” Archie frowned,
wondering if he had missed something.

“
Because he wants Francesca to show him where the tunnel is. He
then plans to kill her and Bertie if he hasn’t already, and set up
an ambush for our return to Thistledown. That way, none of us gets
out alive, he finds the tunnel and gets the papers back,” Simon
explained, thinking furiously. “Why do you think he had so many men
ready and waiting in the house back in the village?”

“
Because he knew we were going to attack?”

“
I think we are being watched. He knew that we were going to
attack, and made arrangements of his own in preparation for when we
did.”

“
But why not just shift his operation?”

“
Because of the tunnels around here,” Simon replied. “They are
a rabbit warren. You have seen the map. There are tunnels
everywhere. If an escape route is cut off in one direction there
are at least four others to use. It’s perfect for their purposes.
Underground, out of sight, it is worth the effort.”

Digging
deep into his last reserves, Simon turned toward the house. “Where
do you think they are?”

“
I’d like to say the cellars but I have the strange feeling
that they aren’t inside at all.”

“
If we are being watched, we could be picked off while we are
approaching,” Archie announced, surreptitiously scouting the area
while staring at his feet. “We need to wait for
nightfall.”

Simon
nodded, mentally calling out to Francesca that he was nearby and
would find her. He couldn’t believe he had been played for a fool,
again, so easily. Lindsay was starting to bug him and, if it was
the very last thing he ever did, he would make sure the man was
brought to justice. If that was at the end of his own knife, then
so be it. At least Francesca would be able to live the rest of her
days knowing she was safe.

They
moved silently into the kitchens, watchful and alert.

“
I’d say that I will search upstairs, but I don’t think I can
make it that far,” Archie sighed, slumping into a chair before the
empty hearth.

Simon
sat at the table and dropped his head into his hands briefly. He
ached to be able to lie down and rest for a while, but knew that
wasn’t going to happen while Francesca’s life was at stake. “I
can’t sit here all day and wait for dusk,” he announced after
several moments of silence. “I can’t leave her in that bastard’s
hands a second longer than I absolutely have to.”

“
Do we really believe that he has her?” Pie asked, several long
minutes later. Simon’s gaze lifted and he stared at his colleague
as he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table. “I mean,
we have no proof. There aren’t any clothing garments, no sign of
the abandoned carriage, nothing. There is nothing to say that
Lindsay isn’t playing us for a fool again and that Francesca isn’t
already tucked up safe and sound where she should be.”

“
But why would he want to keep us here?”

“
We’re sitting ducks,” Simon growled, hating Lindsay more than
ever.

“
I am not going to just sit here and wait for another of his
marauding army to invade again,” Archie snapped, shoving away from
the table and immediately regretting the swift movement when pain
exploded in his thigh.

“
Then let’s go hunting,” Pie said softly. Someone had to be
outside, not only to spirit the Frenchman away but also to keep
watch on anyone of them leaving the house. It was about time they
found out just who they were.

It
didn’t take long. Simon used the burned out wing of the house to
make his way to the copse of trees behind the stable block, and
edged around to the back of the carriage store. From there he saw a
man kneeling in the far corner of the building, watching the house
through a small crack in the planks. He didn’t need to look to know
that Pie was mimicking his actions on the other side of the stable
yard.

The man
before Simon didn’t know what hit him and he slumped on the floor
without a murmur. A scuffle of feet behind him warned him before he
turned of the impending attack, and he spun around just in time to
see the wide, frightened eyes of the Frenchman lunge toward him. He
too joined his companion without a fight. Simon appeared in the
doorway of the carriage room and waited for Pie to appear across
the yard. Unable to bend long enough to secure the ties on the
men’s wrists, Simon stood back for Pie to do the necessary and
secure them, one in each corner of the vast room.

Easing
the door closed carefully, Pie slid the bolt across then followed
Simon back to the house. “Lindsay is around here somewhere, I can
just feel him.”

“
I know,” Pie replied, taking a casual look around. “I think we
need to search the house.”

Simon
nodded slowly, praying to God Francesca really was that close. Both
men dived for cover as several riders thundered into the stable
yard.

“
Clear!” Pie called softly, lunging to his feet and nodding
toward the latest arrivals.

Simon
had never been so pleased to see Hugo in all of his life. Climbing
awkwardly to his feet, he waited while Hugo, Jamie and Rupert
dismounted.

Hugo
dropped his reins and stalked toward Simon, raking him from head to
toe. “Want to tell me what’s been going on? Where is
she?”

Simon
felt his stomach dip. “Francesca? She didn’t make it?”

“
No,” Hugo snapped, “why the hell do you think I am here? When
she didn’t arrive as you said she would, I realised something was
wrong. It took me forever to arrange for these two to be released
from their tasks and join me.”

“
I sent her to you, but there is a problem,” Simon replied,
feeling he had failed somehow.

“
Let’s move away from here,” Pie suggested, ushering everyone
to the middle of the stable yard where they could talk without
being overheard. Together, Pie and Simon brought the newest
arrivals from the Star Elite up to date with events.

“
So that’s why the village is littered with heavily armed
locals,” Rupert sighed. “We nearly got shot on our way through. It
was only Hugo mentioning his name and giving them a description of
you, Simon, that persuaded them to let us through.”

“
They’re taking their village back,” Archie whispered
proudly.

“
Good for them,” Simon replied, bristling with impatience.
“What do we do about Francesca? I don’t want her in that bastard’s
clutches a moment longer.”

“
You think he is in there?” Jamie asked, nodding
surreptitiously toward the huge mansion behind them.

Simon
nodded slowly.

“
Then let’s go and find them,” Jamie said, turning toward the
house and drawing his gun. He was followed by Pie, Simon, Hugo and
Rupert.

Archie
tried to clamber to his feet when the men entered the kitchen but
immediately slumped back down again, clearly in some considerable
pain from the wound in his thigh that was still bleeding
profusely.

“
Stay there and guard that bag, Archie,” Hugo ordered, cocking
his gun and heading toward the cellar.

Simon
followed Hugo down to the cellars, wincing as his sore legs
protested at carrying his weight down the stairs so swiftly. He was
beginning to hate the darkness, and felt it positively creep over
his chilled flesh as he stood at the base of the steps. They
couldn’t use a light because of alerting Lindsay to their presence,
but it left them nothing to work with.

Apart
from a few packing boxes, there was very little in the cellars and
certainly no Francesca. Simon was about to turn back to the stairs
when the vague and wonderfully familiar scent of lavender teased
his nostrils. He held a hand up to Hugo and the others, who all
immediately froze. Squatting down, he followed the scent this way
and that, knowing with all of his soul that she was close. He could
almost feel her presence.

A
muffled sob and the gentle rustle of clothing told him what he
needed to know. He instinctively went to move closer toward her and
remove her bindings, but he couldn’t see far enough into the room
to identify who else was there. He knew Lindsay was
close.

Instead
he stayed where he was, wondering how much Francesca could see. He
knew just how terrified she must be feeling, and his heart ached
for her. His thoughts turned once again to Bertie. Where was he?
Was he dead?

“
I knew you would show up eventually,” Lindsay announced from
the depths of the cellars.

A soft
scuffling sound coming from the floor behind him drew Simon’s gaze
and he immediately saw the shadowy outline of a dishevelled
Francesca, sitting bound and gagged a few feet away. In the far
corner he could see the even darker outline of another figure
slumped against the wall, and knew it was Bertie. Even through the
darkness, Simon could see the fear in Francesca’s eyes and the
dampness on her cheeks from her tears but dressed entirely in black
as he was, he couldn’t tell if she was aware that he was
there.

He had
never loved her more, and ached to be able to go to her and release
her from her misery, but had no way of knowing where Lindsay was.
He couldn’t risk going deeper into the room and being shot in front
of her. Knowing Lindsay, he had placed her there to lure Simon to
his death.

“
You very nearly fell for it,” Lindsay announced sadly, from
somewhere to the right of him.

Simon’s
senses weren’t working very well and he began to grow disorientated
when, moments later, Lindsay’s voice came from the left.

“
You should have just gone to the escarpment like you were told
to.”

“
This is over,” Simon declared flatly. “You won’t get out of
here alive.”

“
Oh, I think you will find I most definitely will. That tunnel
is around here somewhere and she is going to tell me
where.”

“
There is no tunnel, Lindsay,” Simon sighed, wondering if it
was possible to wager with a lunatic. “On this occasion
you
are the one who has
been fooled.” On his way back to Thistledown, he had taken another
look at the map of the tunnels and knew with certainty that none of
them ventured anywhere near Thistledown. He wasn’t sure where the
rumour had come from, but it was certainly time to put a stop to
it.

Shaking
his head, Simon leaned a nonchalant shoulder against the door jam.
In reality his legs were beginning to tremble so badly that he
wasn’t sure how much longer they would hold him upright.

“
There is a tunnel, it is just hard to find,” Lindsay argued,
his gun wavering as doubt began to set in.

“
There never was a tunnel. Bertie has been working here half of
his life and never stumbled across it. I have seen the plans of the
house and no tunnels feature. Nobody in their right mind would
build a house like this and then start to tunnel under its
foundations. Even if you could persuade someone to undertake such a
foolhardy task, why go to the expense? If you want tunnels, you
only have to cross the valley to the tin mine and there are miles
of them.” Simon felt his temper begin to fray and wondered why he
was bothering with someone who didn’t even have the guts to meet
him in daylight.

“
Your reign of terror in the village is over Lindsay. The
villagers have decided to reclaim control of their lives and are
more than willing to scout the tin mine and moors for any
stragglers you may have left behind. Everyone is on the hunt for
Frenchies,” Simon sighed, running a weary hand through his hair,
hoping this would be over soon.

He
really needed to rescue Francesca and get this over with before
humiliated himself and fell flat on his face at her
feet.

“
The villagers don’t know what they are up against,” Lindsay
snarled from Simon’s right.

“
Your work here is done, Lindsay. It’s time to accept defeat,”
Hugo announced from the darkest depths of the cellar. Simon didn’t
know when Hugo had moved from behind him, he hadn’t heard a thing,
but it was clearly time to create a little disorientation of their
own.

“
Your men have all been captured. The papers you used to create
the false identities have been confiscated and your small army of
associates are on their way to the interrogators. You have
nothing,” Rupert announced from his position closer to the stairs.
The pride in his voice was clearly audible.