Poppy shut her mouth, too embarrassed to admit the reason she disliked Blanche. “I only point out whoever it is must have a reason. It’s not random.”
“For now, let’s focus on the method. Last night, it was cloudy. The moon was hidden,” he said. “The weather must factor in.”
“Isn’t there such a thing as a smugglers’ moon?” Poppy asked hesitantly.
He nodded. “Of course. It’s a bright, full moon…so the smugglers can work without lights to give them away.”
“I should have thought the opposite. A dark night, so no one can see them.”
“Not here. They have little to fear in this part of the country.”
“They ought to,” she said, heat in her voice. “I hate the idea of diverting supplies needed for soldiers! It’s selfish, and it’s petty.”
He smiled at her. “I always remembered how fierce you are.”
“I thought that’s what drove you halfway around the world. I’m sure if you knew I was coming to Cornwall, you’d have stayed on Hispaniola.”
Carlos paused, then took a breath. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you this…but I’m not in Cornwall by coincidence. And it isn’t exactly the family’s business that brought me here.”
“Oh, you’re not also shipping some items that perhaps you’re not informing Customs about?” she asked archly.
“True, the de la Guerra family has a liberal attitude toward taxes and duties. If goods can be bought or sold without the oversight of the Customs agents…well, that saves everyone a bit of money, doesn’t it? But no, that’s not what brings me here.”
“Then what?” Poppy sensed the seriousness in his tone.
Before he could answer, they heard their names called out.
“Why, we meet again, Miss St George, and now you have Mr. de la Guerra to escort you. What luck!” Hobbson said, walking up to them. “Did you both meet down at the harbor?”
“Yes, just now,” Carlos said easily.
“I’m so glad we ran into you. As it turns out, Miss Ainsworth turned her ankle on a cobblestone, and can’t walk. She’s at the Seven Sisters now. She was adamant that she’d wait for you to take her back in the gig, but I think we should take her right now. I say, Mr. de La Guerra, should you mind awfully if we asked you to see Miss St George and the Metcalfe sisters safely back in the coach we used this morning?”
“But what about the gig? Surely all three of you can’t fit.”
“Certainly not! We’re hiring that young Mr. Kellow to drive us back. The gig can stay in town until one of the servants picks it up.”
“If you’re sure…” Poppy said.
“Oh, don’t you worry about us, Miss Poppy. Just enjoy the day.”
“I will certainly see that everyone returns safely,” Carlos said, with a little bow.
“Capital! We’ll see you back at the house for dinner.” Smiling, the Hobbsons strolled off. They looked quite content with Carlos’s shepherding of Poppy, so she supposed it was all right for him to escort her about town.
“Well, that solves a problem,” Carlos said softly.
“I’m guessing Blanche would prefer your company to the Hobbsons,” she observed, secretly elated.
“We don’t always get what we want. A fine lesson for a young lady to learn.”
They walked from one end of town to the other (it wasn’t exactly a metropolis). Poppy picked up her new slippers at the cobbler, vowing that this pair would remain clean and wearable for more than a day. When they passed Bower Lane, Carlos pointed to a particular house. “That’s where the magistrate…magistrates. I’m actually quite annoyed by how that went.” He certainly sounded annoyed, and coming from a man who usually acted as though nothing fazed him at all, Poppy guessed that he was understating his frustration.
“You could simply leave it,” she said hesitantly. “I know you’re curious—I certainly am—but if you were warned away, there must be a reason.”
“I didn’t come all this way to give up,” he almost growled.
Poppy recalled his earlier, interrupted statement—that he hadn’t come to Cornwall by chance. It was none of her business, but she took a deep breath and asked in a quiet tone,“Why are you here?”
