“What will you do? Won’t people wonder where you’ve been?”
“Probably,” he said. “But I’ve never particularly cared if people think less of me.”
“No, you just leave for another part of the world, don’t you?” Poppy noted in an arch tone. Then she put up one hand to stop him from responding. “I’m sorry. That was unfair. It’s my first time escaping smugglers and high tide and party guests while trying to preserve my good name.”
He gave her a little smile. “Poppy St George is a very good name. Now go. Don’t be seen.”
After Poppy dashed away into the darkness, Carlos thought he’d never met a cleverer woman. He hoped no one who cared would see her and raise a fuss. And by the state of her gown, there would be a hell of a fuss. The hem soaked in salt water, the skirts snagged on the rough rock, and the smears of mud all over…even the quick-witted Poppy would have a difficult time explaining her way out of that.
Trusting that she’d be able to take care of herself, Carlos turned his attention to the matter of the smugglers. He’d explored the beach shortly after his own arrival a few weeks before, mostly just because it was there. He found the cave entrance, but had no desire to explore further. Dark, narrow spaces made him nervous. And at the time, there was no reason to think smuggling was going on literally beneath his feet.
He walked the opposite direction from the house, and scanned the vast darkness beyond. The sea at night didn’t reveal many secrets, and he stared for a long, long time before his eyes picked out a slight shift in the pattern of the abyss. A ship was sailing north to south across the bay, its canvas sails catching the faintest light from the stars and reflecting it back. Most people wouldn’t have seen it, but Carlos spent a lot of his life watching for such things—his life and the lives of his crew often depended on it.
Was the operation he and Poppy just stumbled across the one he was seeking? It seemed too easy. Of course, he hadn’t done anything to stop the smugglers yet, so perhaps he shouldn’t be too confident.
If these were the smugglers who killed Mateo, Carlos would make sure they’d pay for it. Ximena wouldn’t have any peace until she knew her brother’s killers had been stopped. Plus, the vast amounts of opium in the caves below hinted at something far more serious than the usual tax avoidance.
He returned to the house through the same French doors he’d left by. The drawing room was quiet now. Apparently most of the guests had dispersed or gone off to other amusements. He breathed a sigh of relief.
At that moment, Miss Ainsworth appeared at his elbow. How did the woman manage to move so silently?
“My goodness, it’s as if you’d vanished in the night air. I should like your company, sir,” Blanche said winsomely.
Carlos reminded himself that Blanche wasn’t to blame for either of her parents’ rude behavior. “I’m not sure I’ll be interesting at the moment.”
“Oh, that’s no matter,” Blanche said soothingly. “Let us plan a diversion for tomorrow. What shall we do?”
“In fact, I need to go to Treversey tomorrow. A personal matter.”
Blanche wasn’t the slightest bit put off by that. “Perfect! As it happens, I wanted to go to town to see about some new lace. You can drive me after breakfast!”
“I should be glad to,” he said, without meaning it. Yesterday, he wouldn’t have thought twice about spending half a day with Blanche. And while he had nothing against her, she had never captured his interest, something that Poppy’s sudden reappearance made abundantly clear. The truth was, he’d been interested in exactly one woman since meeting Poppy…and her name was Poppy.
“Will you have another drink?” Blanche asked. “Several of the gentlemen went to the Blue Room to indulge in a round of brandy and cards. Or if you prefer,” she added in a breathy tone peering at him from beneath lowered lashes, “We could remain here, and get to know each other a little better.”
Hell no. He knew a trap when he saw one. And staying in the drawing room with Blanche was ten times more dangerous for him that running headlong into a smuggler’s cave with Poppy.
“I regret I must decline,” Carlos said. Without a backward glance, he retreated from the room, hoping that Poppy had also got back into the house, unseen and unheard.
Christ, for what was supposed to be a summer house party, things had gotten very complicated.
Chapter 7
Poppy followed Carlos’s (suspiciously?) precise directions for how to sneak into the side door of the house without being seen. She made it into the house and down the corridor to the servants’ stairs before anyone saw her. However, on the flight of stairs between the ground floor and the upper floor, she encountered someone unexpected.
“Elowen?” Poppy asked, too surprised to do the intelligent thing (which would have been to retreat downward to a place she could hide).
Elowen Metcalfe jumped in alarm, her hand flying to her throat. “Oh, my goodness! Miss St George, you frightened me half to death!”
“What are you doing here?” Poppy asked. “This is the servants’ stairs.”
“Oh, er…I took this way to avoid…Mr. Ainsworth,” Elowen said in a rush. She looked everywhere but at Poppy, and her cheeks flushed scarlet.
“Is he roaming the halls?” Poppy asked. “Has he done anything…inappropriate?” She wouldn’t put it past the man, mostly because she disliked him so much.
“Oh, um, no. I don’t wish to imply that he…I just…He’s a very unpleasant man,” Elowen said. “And if I can use this staircase while he uses the main one, then it’s much better. But why are you using this staircase?”
Poppy expected this question (considering she’d just demanded the same from Elowen). So she said, “It’s rather embarrassing, actually. I’d also had an unpleasant exchange with some Ainsworths in the drawing room—Mrs. Ainsworth and her daughter. So I left…but I left through the French doors to the terrace. And I’m afraid I was so upset that I tromped across a flower bed and got my slippers and hem all muddy. Of course I couldn’t be seen in such a state, so I snuck around to the servants’ entrance and up here. Mrs. Towers would hate to get muddy footprints all over her lovely carpets, don’t you think?”
