He stood for a moment at the open end of the wagon, then bent and ran his hand across the wooden bed. He sniffed at the black powder on his fingertips. “Gunpowder? Now what use would your uncle have for such a thing?”
This could be trouble.
“Wild boar. They have been digging up some of the household crops. Armand plans to shoot them and then hang their carcasses up to warn off any others that might stray into the grounds,” she replied.
It wasn’t a complete fabrication. Wild boars had been at the kitchen garden. She had even managed to shoot one herself.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just make sure you kill them all before my men and I return. We will need the garden. I like a few herbs in my soup.”
She turned to walk away, but Vincent roughly seized her by the arm and pulled her to him. “Tell Armand he shouldn’t be so careless with his powder. In the army, I would have had a man under my command beaten for such waste.”
He put his finger under her chin and lifted. When Evangeline tried to turn her head away, he gripped her face firmly with his hand. She stared into his cold, gray eyes as he wiped his thumb over her lips, smearing gunpowder all over them.
“You made a mistake in refusing me a second time. But I am a patient man; and when you and Armand are homeless, you might rethink your position. Women who are foolish enough to say no to me, always come to regret their decision. Evangeline, your future is by my side, quiet and obedient.”
She pulled away the instant he released his hold.
“I will never yield to a man like you, Vincent Marec.”
Evangeline waited until Vincent and his horse had disappeared from sight before going in search of Armand. She found him and two of the estate workers in the cellar at the back of the stables. They were busy throwing straw over cases of gunpowder, and that had her worried.
This place rivals the Bastille for ammunition.
She could only pray that her home didn’t suffer the same fate of being stormed and seized by an angry mob.
Armand raised his head as Evangeline approached. “Has he gone?”
“You knew Vincent was here? You should have come out and confronted him, rather than leaving it up to me,” she huffed.
“As I recall, you are the one who has spent the best part of the last few months telling me that you are more than capable of dealing with the Lamballe gang.”
He motioned toward the door and the estate laborers quickly left. The château servants and staff had of late become well acquainted with the need to make themselves scarce whenever instructed. There were not many smiling faces to be seen about the château.
Her uncle was, of course, right. She had made it clear that she wasn’t afraid of Vincent. But the fact that Armand had chosen not to face the gang boss gave her cause for concern.
What are you hiding, Uncle?
With still no word from England, she couldn’t wait any longer for help to arrive. It was time to confront Armand. “Uncle, I am worried. Please tell me what you have planned. I am not a fool. I know you intend to refuse Vincent’s demands, but you still haven’t told me what all this weaponry and ammunition is for.”
“And I don’t intend to tell you. Please understand, Evangeline, it is the only way I can keep you safe. That is what matters.”
Evangeline threw up her hands. “What about you? Have you even considered the possibility that Vincent might be prepared to kill in order to get what he wants?”
She could have cheerfully slapped Armand when he gifted her with one of his patronizing,I am yourunclelooks. “Don’t worry. I have plans well in place. The only thing Marec will be getting out of this argument is a burial plot in Saint-Michel cemetery.”
He pointed to the black marks on her face. “You should go fix your face and hair then check to see what is for supper. That is the kind of life for a woman like you, Evangeline. Not getting involved in arguments with men like Marec. I promise, the next time he comes here, I shall deal with him.”
And that’s the problem. You don’t have the faintest idea how to handle a man like Vincent. You can’t even manage simple negotiations over the price of brandy without me telling you exactly what to do.
Her uncle was out of his depth and headed into peril. And there was nothing she could do to stop the tragedy which was surely coming.
Chapter Three
The journey from London to Portsmouth would take the best part of two days. In the early stages of the smuggling operation, Gus had made the strategic decision to moor theNight Windaway from the capital. He had sound reasons.
The first being, it enabled the quick offloading of most of the contraband. A secret warehouse in Portsmouth town registered under a false name had served the RR Coaching Company well. The other option of simply bringing cargo up the River Thames into the London docks was slow-going and also carried with it great risk. Customs authorities noted every arrival and regularly checked ship manifests.
The second and probably most important reason was that the British navy was based out of Portsmouth. A group of hand-picked local scouts was able to keep Gus well-informed as to the movements of naval vessels in and out of port. One didn’t ever wish to encounter one of His Majesty’s ships at sea, especially not while endeavoring to smuggle a shipment of illicit goods across the English Channel.
