Page 107 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Chapter 23

Noelle returned the knife to her pocket. “And yet,” she said, before she gave in and believed every word, “you thought I was a spy.”

“Not at all.” He took her by the hand and led her to his horse. “I returned to Sussex to prove that you weren’t. It didn’t take long to realize Lady Ariadne was the traitor, and Jackson seemed the likely go-between, but your involvement with smuggling was a damnable complication. You were so secretive, so determined not to marry me, so desperate to leave. I wondered if something you had done unwittingly would implicate you—but my goal was to keep you safe, no matter what.”

“Your father meant to make sure we didn’t wed,” she said, as it all became horridly clear. “He called me to his deathbed . . .” Stumbling a little in the mud, she recounted that ghastly scene in the dying man’s bedchamber, and pulled the little cross out from under her bodice. “He gave me this to help support myself. He told me he knew my mother. I thought maybe he loved her once.”

“I think he did, as far as he was capable of any tender feeling. But the Vicomte de Vallon stole her away, and he never forgave him.”

“I thought he was being kind to me,” Noelle said sadly.

“When actually it was he who informed on you,” Richard said. “Who put you in danger of being caught and hanged.”

“I had no choice but to flee.”

“Understood, but now you are safe.” Richard lifted Noelle astride his big hunter. “Stay there.”

For once, Noelle felt no inclination to disobey, but that didn’t mean she could ignore her responsibilities. “What about Snowflake?”

“Leave her to Will. He will return her to my stables. By the way, you are at this moment in your bed suffering from migraine.”

Will lifted the body of Jackson and dumped it across his horse. Noelle cringed at the casual way Will handled the corpse of the man who had been, not long ago, his friend. And hers.

“What the devil were you about to run from Jackson on foot?” Richard asked. “I thought you planned to dupe him into thinking you meant to take ship for France.”

“No, because I realized he meant to kill me. Besides, I had to distract him from . . . Lieutenant Hale!” In her terror and then relief, she had almost forgotten. “Jackson shot him. I bandaged him, but he must see a doctor.” She motioned up the track. “He’s under a pine tree, but I had to remove his coat to bind the wound. He must be frightfully cold, perhaps even unconscious.”

“So that’s what the first shots were,” Richard said grimly. “Here he comes.”

Lieutenant Hale walked slowly down the track toward them, his coat half on, Noelle’s flintlock in his hand.

“Will, leave that to me and go see to Lieutenant Hale.” Richard left Noelle on the hunter and, as if dealing with a corpse were commonplace for him as well, tied the dead man onto the horse.

“That packet in the mud,” Noelle said, pointing. “It contains silk that was supposed to go to France.” She reached into her pocket. “Lady Ariadne gave me this. There’s another in the packet.”

He accepted the letter, retrieved the packet, stowed it in his saddlebag, and mounted behind her without a word.

“How do you know Lady Ariadne won’t accuse me?” Noelle asked. “It’s her word against mine.”

“No, it is Lord Harry’s and mine against hers. She confessed to me in Harry’s presence. You need have no fear.”

Slowly, they led the horse with its inanimate burden up the track to where Will, having helped Lieutenant Hale on with his coat, now assisted him to mount Snowflake. His own horse, Hale said wearily, was tethered farther up the track.

“Did you get what you needed, Lord Boltwood?” Hale asked.

“I believe so,” Richard said. “I’ll have a groom ride with a report to Sir Frederick in the morning. You know what to do with Jackson in the meantime.”

“Why are you ordering Lieutenant Hale about?” Noelle demanded. “He’s injured. He must have the shot dug out of him as soon as possible.”

“Far be it from me to disobey the valiant lady who saved my life,” Hale said, doffing his hat with his good hand and wincing as he did so. “Here is your pistol, Mademoiselle de Vallon. No need to worry. Will and I will take care of everything.”

Hale and Will Dalbey working together? Richard appropriated the flintlock, wheeled the hunter, and set him forward at a walk.

“We must find my canvas bag,” she said. “I dropped it by the side of the track.”

Wordlessly, Richard dismounted when she spied the bag, handed it to Noelle, and mounted again.

She had to know what was going on. “Is Lieutenant Hale working for you?” The wind had picked up, and the clouds parted to reveal a pale, washed moon. In the harbor, the Restless Rose was making ready to set sail.