Page 31 of What the Heart Knows

“Sorry.” Reid released him. “I forget how delicate you are.”

Kit laughed. “Aye, you overgrown ox, you must be more careful of your much stronger cousin. Hug me too hard and you might break the bones in my fragile arms.” Belittling each other was one of their favorite jokes.

Across the room, George, his father, and Beuth sat blinking at the odd interchange.

Reid slapped Kit on the back. “Come sit by the fire. Share some of Brewster’s excellent toddy and tell us what you’ve learned.”

Room was made for Kit, and the innkeeper provided a steaming tankard. Kit drank deeply. “That’s good.” He licked foam from his lips. “I’ve not had a toddy with foam before.”

“’Tis me own special recipe, handed down from Brewster father to son for as long as Brewsters have been tavern keeps.”

“Have you shared the recipe with George yet?” Kit wondered.

“No, and I’ll not until I’m dying.”

The company nodded.

Kit raised his glass with the others following suit. “May your demise be many long years in the future.”

Everyone sipped in toast to Brewster’s longevity.

“Now, cousin,” the earl said. “Have you learned where these smugglers are most likely to land their goods?”

“While a number of likely spots lie scattered about the Fenwick coast, I believe the two islands just to the south of the Fenwick harbor are most likely.”

“Are you sure?” Beuth questioned. “Those islands are very close to the harbor. Watchers could easily discern illegal movement.”

“That’s precisely why Brookbank will move his goods there from the sea. The islets are too obvious. I’ll wager most of the riding officers who come through dismiss them immediately.

“That’s true,” Brewster confirmed. “Riding Officers don’t visit Fenwick often. They tend to stay closer to Yarmouth, believing the cliffs there more likely to hide smugglers. I tried once to ask a riding officer to investigate the islands. He refused. Said it wasn’t worth his time. Didn’t even ask a single question.”

“Does anyone live on these islands, or frequent them for some purpose?” Reid asked.

“A couple of fishermen once lived there,” George Brewster replied. “The April storm destroyed their homes, and high tides drowned several family members. The survivors left Fenwick, claiming it was cursed.”

“So, the islands are deserted.”

“Cousin, I confirmed that today,” Kit informed. “My guide—thank you for recommending him, Brewster—borrowed a boat. I hid under a tarp, and he rowed out to the largest of the two islands. We spent a good hour investigating them. Found signs of old fires and tracks from a large group of pack animals. I suspect the goods are moved to the island then taken off at low tide, when animals could easily walk the distance to the southern shore.”

“Anyone could make those tracks and fire signs,” Reid remarked.

“Precisely. We found no solid evidence of smuggling on either island,” Kit confirmed.

“Perhaps we should consider setting watchers at a number of places Brookbank might use,” Beuth suggested.

“A good idea,” Kit agreed. “How many village men might serve as watchers?”

“Won’t be many men left in the village,” Brewster said. “Them as aren’t forced to help Brookbank will likely cower in their beds rather than expose themselves to danger.”

“Hmm,” Reid mused. “We’ve only one day before the new moon. Tomorrow, I’d like you, Brewster, to call a meeting of those people who favor the Fenwick expansion efforts. George told me of them.”

“To what purpose, your lordship?” Beuth asked.

“As an excuse to allow me to speak with them. More than any others, that group’ll want the smugglers gone. Thus, their motivation to cooperate may only need a small push from someone whose authority might be trusted to prevent any retribution.”

“I’ll do it.” Brewster slapped his knee. “We’ll have more watchers than we need, with your help, my lord.”

“What of the dragoons, Cousin? Will they come?” Kit queried.