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She was tall, he noticed, wearing a blue wool gown with an embroidered stomacher that emphasised a slim waist and an enviable bosom. Her hood had fallen back from her cloak and it was her hair that struck him most. It was a fiery red and so curly it had defied all attempts to confine it. It spilled from the combs that were supposed to hold it in a knot on the back of her head and stuck out in all directions. He took his gaze from her hair to her face. It was a perfect oval, with high cheekbones, well-shaped brows and the most brilliant green eyes he had ever seen. He was reminded of a ginger cat and wondered if this one had claws.
‘Think nothing of it,’ he said, sweeping her a bow. ‘Sir Ashley Saunders at your service.’
She curtsied. ‘Sir Ashley, how d’you do. I am Philippa Kingslake and this is my aunt, Mrs Whiteside.’
He bowed. ‘Your obedient, ma’am.’
‘We have come to see Sir Felix,’ the lady said, bowing her head in response.
‘He will be with us directly. In the meantime, may I help you? I am spending a few days with Sir Felix.’
‘No, we must speak to Sir Felix,’ Augusta said. ‘He is the magistrate and only he can help us.’
Sir Ashley was a handsome man, Pippa decided. There was a glint of humour in his dark eyes as if he would burst out laughing at the least provocation. It might have been that she had not had time to see to her toilette properly and her hair had escaped from the combs and pins she had hastily dug into it. Knowing she was visiting Sir Felix, she did not care that she was looking less than her best. If it served to put him off, so much the better! And their errand was urgent. But to find herself confronted by a vision of elegance in a superbly tailored suit of burgundy velvet, whose own dark hair was sleeked back into a queue with not a strand out of place, was disconcerting. He wore no make-up and his face was tanned as if he spent long hours out of doors in all weathers.
‘Ah, then, am I to suppose you have come to report a felony?’ Although Ash was addressing the older woman, his gaze was on the younger. He could not take his eyes off her. She intrigued him. He saw the slight expression of impatience she did not bother to hide and added on a sudden flash of inspiration, ‘Or has someone close to you been taken up?’
‘How did you know that?’ Augusta demanded. ‘Have you seen him? Do you know what happened? Where have they been taken? Are they still here?’ She fired questions at him, allowing him no time to answer.
‘Madam,’ he said, lifting his hand to stop her in full flow, ‘calm yourself and tell me what has happened.’
Whoever he was, Pippa would rather talk to him than Sir Felix; as her aunt had been forced to stop for lack of breath, she decided to explain. ‘My young cousin has been apprehended by the Customs, Sir Ashley. He is no more than a boy with a love of adventure and went down to the beach to watch a landing last night. He was not involved, simply a spectator, but the Customs arrived with a troop of dragoons and rounded some of the men up, and Ben along with them.’ She decided to say nothing of her brother whose presence on the beach, if he were there—and she could not be sure of that—could not be explained away in the same manner.
‘There was a landing of contraband last night?’ he queried, annoyed that he had missed it and wondering if Sir Felix had known it and kept him talking over supper to distract him from his purpose.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sir Felix is the local magistrate; the prisoners would have been brought to him to deal with.’
‘I heard nothing of it,’ he said. ‘Though my room is at the back of the house and Sir Felix might not have wished to disturb me.’
His host came in at that point, dressed in a suit of purple satin and a long matching waistcoat with huge pearl buttons. On his head was a hastily donned bag wig. He made a flourishing bow to each lady, before taking their hands and kissing them. He lingered over Pippa’s just too long for her comfort and she quickly pulled her hand away and surreptitiously rubbed it against her skirt, a gesture that was not lost on Ash. So, she did not like the gentleman, though he was obviously taken with her. ‘Ladies, I gave orders you were to be made comfortable in the withdrawing room …’
‘Sir Felix,’ Augusta said, having recovered herself a little, ‘we need your help.’
‘Anything, dear lady, anything within my power.’
‘You are aware there were smugglers on the beach last night and some of them were arrested?’
‘No, I was not,’ he said, affecting dismay. ‘Is there no end to their lawlessness? Have they harmed you or yours? If so, I will pursue them to the full extent of the law.’
‘No, they have done us no harm,’ Augusta answered him. ‘But Ben was out there watching them and was taken up with them. I did not know he had gone or I would have stopped him. You have met him, Sir Felix, and you know he is very young and easily led. I suppose he thought it would be exciting, he would not have thought of the danger. I felt sure the dragoons would have brought their prisoners here.’
‘No, they did not,’ he said. ‘I know nothing of it. Of course if they had, I would have rung a peal over Ben and sent him home. As it is …’ He shrugged.
‘Where would they be taken, if not here?’ Pippa asked.
‘Hunston, Lynn, Heacham—it would depend where the soldiers were based and the nearest magistrate. I will endeavour to find out for you.’
‘By that time it will be too late,’ Augusta wailed. ‘They will be sent to the Assizes and God help my poor boy then. What am I to do?’
‘I heard one of them say the goods they had seized were not worth turning out of bed for,’ Pippa put in. ‘He mentioned a chambermaid at the Standard in Wells who was keeping his bed warm for him.’
‘You heard them talking?’ Ash asked her in surprise. ‘Where were you at the time?’
Pippa grinned. ‘Face down in the sand,’ she said. ‘Hiding behind a dune.’ When she smiled her whole face came alive and her emerald eyes sparkled. She was, in Ash’s eyes, a remarkable woman and, in spite of his avowed intention to take a rest from the ladies, he found himself wanting to know more about her.
‘Miss Kingslake!’ Sir Felix remonstrated. ‘I am surprised at you. You are lucky you were not seen. The free traders would have had no compunction about bringing an end to your existence, especially if they thought you had informed on them.’ He paused. ‘Did you? Inform on them, I mean.’
‘No, of course not. I was simply an observer.’
‘They would not have believed you,’ Ash said laconically. ‘I am not sure that I do.’
She faced him, the humour in her eyes turning to anger. ‘I do not lie, Sir Ashley. I, like my young cousin, was simply watching.’
‘What on earth for?’
‘My reasons are my own.’ She did not tell him about her writing, which her aunt abhorred.‘It would not be so bad if you wrote about feminine things, like housekeeping or embroidery or collecting sea shells or such like,‘ she had said, more than once.‘But to make up stories about war and pirates and highwaymen and things a real lady should know nothing about is not something to noise abroad. It will give society an aversion to you. It has already cost you one suitor. ‘
The fact that Edward had been horrified when she told him about her writing and insisted she stop it at once was only one of the reasons they had parted. They had met at her come-out year, introduced by a close friend of her aunt. He was handsome and attentive and before long was escorting her to functions all over town and had sworn his undying devotion. Her other suitors faded from the scene. Everyone said it was an ideal match and, not being versed on the ways of the world, she believed them, but after a while little things began to give her doubts. He seemed to want to change her, to make her into a one of those insipid, timid young ladies, without an idea in her head of her own. His insistence that she conform made her realise he did not understand her one iota and caused dissension, which was surely not right between two people supposedly in love.
‘If I could have rescued Ben, I would have done,’ she said, mentally shrugging these unconstructive musings from her mind. ‘But they would not have taken any notice of me.’
‘What are we to do?’ Augusta asked, impatient with the way the conversation was going.
‘I had better go to Wells and see for myself,’ Sir Felix said with a sigh that indicated a reluctance to do anything of the sort. ‘Lord Borrowdale is the justice there. If I can persuade him to let the boy go, I will.’
‘Oh, please do,’ Augusta said. ‘We will be for ever in your debt if you can effect his release, won’t we, Pippa?’
‘Yes,’ Pippa murmured.
It was obvious to Ash that the young lady was as reluctant to be in the baronet’s debt as he was to confront his judicial colleague. ‘If you wish, Sir Felix,’ he ventured, ‘I will go to Wells and make enquiries on your behalf. I am acquainted with his lordship. A request for the release of one of his prisoners might come better from me, since you know the boy and your action might be wrongly interpreted. What do you say?’
‘Capital idea!’ Sir Felix said with great relief. ‘I should hate to be accused of being in league with smugglers.’
‘And that would never do,’ Ash said with a barely concealed smile. ‘I shall need one of the ladies to accompany me to identify the boy and lend weight to my argument. As Mrs Whiteside seems overcome, perhaps you would come with me, Miss Kingslake?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘How shall we travel?’
‘I have my carriage,’ Ash said. ‘It will take but a few minutes to have it harnessed and ready.’
‘You cannot go unchaperoned,’ Augusta said, suddenly recovering some of her usual aplomb.
‘Oh, Aunt, what does it matter? This is not London, nor even Norwich. I go out and about here unchaperoned and no one thinks anything of it. You take our carriage home and have Mrs Sadler make up a tisane for you. You need to rest. After all, you had little sleep last night.’
Ash found himself smiling again. He did not know how much sleep the matron had had, but Miss Kingslake, on her own admission, had been out on the beach, burying herself in sand while the smugglers did their work. How much sleep had she had? And what did she know that she was not revealing?
‘Yes, you are right,’ Augusta agreed. ‘I should not be of any use to you if I came.’
This arrangement did not please Sir Felix, but he could not object since he had said he was glad of Ash’s help. Instead he sent word that Sir Ashley’s equipage was to be made ready.
Twenty minutes later Pippa found herself sitting beside her escort in one of the most luxurious carriages she had ever seen. It had steel springs and padded rich blue velvet cushions, and it was pulled by a pair of matched white horses. Sir Ashley was evidently very rich, as well as handsome and agreeable. If she had not been so worried about Ben and Nat, she would be enjoying the outing.
‘Why do you suppose the dragoons took their prisoners so far?’ she asked as they made their way along the narrow coastal road that joined the villages and towns of north Norfolk. ‘Sir Felix usually deals with Narbeach matters.’
‘Perhaps they thought he would be biased in the prisoners’ favour,’ he said. ‘Especially if they were local men, known to him. On the other hand it might simply be that they were anxious to get back to their warm billets. There again, they would want to be sure they received their share of the prize money.’
‘Most of the contraband had left the beach by the time they turned up,’ she told him. ‘It was amazing how quickly the men scattered with their loads, leaving only the stragglers and a few kegs and bundles behind. I would be very surprised if they reached the Customs House.’
‘Tut, tut, Miss Kingslake, you are surely not suggesting the Customs men are corrupt,’ he said, but he was laughing.
‘The boats went back to the ship and it sailed away,’ she said, her own lips twitching. ‘How much was still on board, I could not say.’
‘We could probably calculate that if you can describe the ship and remember what you saw landed. If there was anything left on board, they will undoubtedly make another run.’
‘It was a cutter, but as to the cargo, I do not know if I can be accurate.’ She paused to frame her question, risking a rebuff. ‘What is your interest in smugglers, Sir Ashley? Are you a Revenue man?’
He thought of telling her the truth about the Piccadilly Gentlemen, but decided against it. He had no idea how deeply she was involved in lawlessness. ‘No. I, like you, am an ordinary citizen curious about how law and order is maintained.’
Her mind flew to Nat and Joe and the other village men. Smuggling was a crime punishable by death and yet all the coastal villages indulged in it. Wherever there was a suitable place to land and places to hide the goods until they could be taken inland and sold, men were prepared to risk their lives for the rich rewards on offer. People like Sir Ashley Saunders were a serious threat to them. ‘Did you come to Narbeach on purpose to catch smugglers?’ she asked, endeavouring to hide her dismay.
‘It is a huge and profitable business and is depriving the Exchequer of many thousands of pounds every year, Miss Kingslake,’ he said, evasively. ‘Its perpetrators are violent and not above murder and intimidation, as you, who live on the coast, must surely know.’
He had not answered her question, but she let it go. ‘Yes, but some of the men are forced to join in for fear of reprisals on their families and, besides, the lure of money to a poor man with a wife and family to support is irresistible.’
‘I am aware of that, Miss Kingslake. But think of this. If there were no smugglers and everyone paid their proper dues, the country would be better off and that includes the poor man in his cottage, who would not be afraid of a knock on the door in the middle of the night.’
She did not like the sound of that, not with Ben in the hands of the law and Nat missing, though she was careful not to let it show. ‘If you are not a Revenue man, then who are you?’ she asked. ‘I cannot imagine an ordinary citizen setting out to change the world single-handedly.’
‘Change has to begin somewhere.’
She had to concede he was probably right, but her main concern was to protect Ben and Nat as far as she could. The fact that her companion was a handsome man with a ready smile, who made her heart flutter in a way it had not done for six years at least, was a distraction she must overcome. ‘Why Narbeach?’ she asked.
He paused to turn and face her. She was looking somewhat anxious, which probably meant she knew some of the smugglers; it would be strange if she did not, living in the village as she did. And was her cousin as innocent as she pretended? ‘Why not? Narbeach is only one of many such places. Taken together, they represent a threat to the economy of whole country.’
She was not prepared to argue that point and turned away from him to look out of the window at the countryside through which they were passing. On the inland side it was grazing land, dotted with cattle; on the seaward side the salt marshes were intersected by narrow channels of open water. Only local people dared venture on those, and she did not doubt there were hiding places for contraband in its creeks if you knew where to look. She was not thinking about the view or the contraband, but whether to consider Sir Ashley Saunders friend or foe. ‘Smuggling has been going on for centuries,’ she said. ‘You would have a challenge on your hands if you tried to put a stop to it. Others have tried and failed.’
‘I know.’
‘I think you would only cure them if you offered them an alternative way of earning a living that would take them out of dire poverty.’
‘I know that, too.’ He paused. ‘Enough of that. What about you?’
‘Me?’ She turned to face him. ‘I am no smuggler. They would not have me even if I wanted to become one. You need strong muscles and an even stronger determination and I have neither.’
‘You may be right about the muscles,’ he said with a smile, which she found unnerving. ‘But I am not so sure about the determination. What were you doing on the beach at night when all respectable and law-abiding ladies should be safely in their beds?’
‘Enjoying a midnight walk.’
‘Do you often do that?’ he asked mildly. ‘Or only when a cargo is coming in?’
‘I often do it,’ she said. ‘It helps me to think.’
‘Can you not think at home?’
‘Yes, but sometimes I cannot sleep and then it is best to go out and feel the wind on my face and see the moonlight shining like a silver ribbon on the water and the tide swirling about the rocky pools. It makes me feel humble and thankful for the life I have.’
He would not describe her as humble and fancied that like most people of her colouring she had a fiery temper. ‘There was no moon last night.’
‘No.’
‘Were you not afraid when you saw what was happening on the beach?’
‘Not until the dragoons arrived and then I was fearful for the men.’
‘Did you know any of them?’
‘It was dark and I was not close enough to identify anyone.’
‘But you did recognise your cousin.’
‘He was brought close to where I was hiding.’
‘What does your aunt think of you going out at night? I assume you live with her.’
‘Not exactly. She lives with us.’
‘Us?’
‘My brother and me. It is my brother who is the householder.’
So, she was not Mrs Whiteside’s companion as he had at first surmised. He found himself looking at her in a different light. ‘Where was he last night when you were out watching smugglers?’
She was afraid he might ask that and was reluctant to tell him she did not know. He would undoubtedly jump to the conclusion that Nat was involved with the free traders and he might possibly be right. ‘He is away from home at the moment.’
He was aware of her wariness in answering, but he did not pursue that line of enquiry. ‘And your parents?’
‘They were drowned in a boating accident nine years ago. Aunt Augusta moved in with us soon after that.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘She seemed to think we could not manage on our own.’
‘From what I have learned I can understand that,’ he said with a teasing smile. ‘If you make a habit of wandering about at night to help you think. Most ladies I know would be terrified of doing such a thing.’
‘Of thinking?’ she queried, laughing.
He laughed, too. ‘That, too, but I meant walking out alone.’
‘Then the ladies you know must be mean-spirited.’
He had not thought of that, but on reflection decided she was probably right. Even his mistresses obeyed the rules of convention. Arabella liked to pretend she was a lady, but Miss Kingslake, who undoubtedly was one, did not care. He wondered what had made her like that. ‘I begin to feel sorry for your aunt,’ he said.
‘Oh, I know we are a handful, but she is very fond of us.’
