Page 24 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Richard’s head throbbed. If only he had known, he would have run off with Noelle. France during the Revolution was nothing to the vengeance of his father.

“And then he stole my Mary,” his father growled. “No son of mine will marry a daughter of that blackguard.”

“I seduced her, sir, so I have to marry her! What if I’ve got her with child?” Richard shook with a combination of fury and the remnants of the drug the old man had used to incapacitate him.

“If necessary, I’ll pay her off.” His father jabbed a finger at him. “Hear me, and hear me well. We are on our way to Amsterdam, where you will make yourself useful to Sir Frederick Darsington. You will not seek to contact Mademoiselle de Vallon in any way.”

When he could control his voice, Richard asked, “Spying? Surely that’s as disreputable as ruining a lady.”

His father narrowed his eyes. “You will use your eyes and ears amongst the gentry there. You will associate with people under suspicion and pass any pertinent information to Sir Frederick. You will not stoop to actual spying.”

As far as Richard could tell, there wasn’t much difference. “And if I refuse?”

“I shall have Miss de Vallon disposed of,” his father said. “Needless to say, I do not wish to do any such thing. It would grieve Lady Tifton, but sometimes murder is necessary.”

Richard felt as helpless now as that boy grieving for his beloved dog. “If anything happens to her, even if it appears to be an illness or an accident, I shall kill you,” he swore.

The old man scoffed. “No, you won’t. You’ll forget her soon enough. Damnation, boy, she agrees with that confounded revolution in France. How could you even consider her? You’ll soon realize that I’m right to separate you before you do anything rash.” He laughed and quitted the cabin, leaving Richard sick with rage.

Sometimes he wished he had killed the old man then and there. Wished he’d pushed him overboard. Surely it wouldn’t have been worse than the shame that dogged him for the next few years, unable to contact Noelle, unable to do anything but wait. He gave thanks for Johnny, who he knew would take care of Noelle if she fell pregnant. He learned, eventually, that she was well, for occasionally his mother mentioned her in long, chatty letters.

For the most part, he had obeyed the old villain, duly using his eyes and ears, passing along useful information to the Home Office, occasionally noticing that a necessary murder had indeed taken place—not an uncommon occurrence in espionage, but a sickening reminder of the reality of his father’s threat.

Now Richard was free to marry as he chose. It wouldn’t be easy to convince Noelle that he loved her and always had, without divulging why he’d been gone for so long. Maybe he didn’t deserve easy. Shame at his helplessness during the past years would doubtless ride him forever.

Johnny spat and held out his coffee cup, returning Richard to the present. He added whiskey to the coffee and passed it to the tinker.

“Noelle was a happy colleen once,” Johnny said reminiscently. He sipped, his contemplative silence upsetting Richard far more than hard words would have done.

Richard stood. “Let’s get the goods moved.”

The tinker grunted, buttoned his trousers, and dragged himself onto the draft horse with a hiss of pain. He whistled the dog away from the coffee dregs and led the way into the depths of the wood. They emerged from the trees below the walled garden. When they reached the seaward door, Johnny dug into his pocket and handed Richard a key.

Was the girl handing out keys like kisses? “Johnny, you had no business kissing her.” He shoved the key into the lock and swung the door open.

“I don’t suppose I would have, if she hadn’t asked me to.” Johnny didn’t dismount. He lowered two tubs of brandy to the ground.

“Noelle asked you to kiss her?”

Johnny lowered two more. “Not tonight, she didn’t. A while ago.”

“Curse it, Johnny. I—I can’t explain why I left, but I hoped you would take care of her, make sure she was safe and well.”

“I waited till I knew she didn’t need me, and then I went on my travels. By the time I returned, she was well into smuggling and doing fine.”

“And kissing you the whole damned time,” Richard growled. “You call that taking care of her?”

“No, the kissing was lately. For purposes of comparison, she said. Why would I refuse her?”

Comparison?

“It’s become a bit of a habit to steal a kiss now and then. She’s a tasty young thing.”

“You’re not the only one she’s been kissing,” Richard muttered. Tasting. His fists clenched. Johnny was lucky to have an excuse for staying up on his horse.

“Of course not, lad, if she’s comparing. She tells me I’m the second best. Not sure if that’s a compliment or to put me in my place, but it seems she likes kissing me as much as I do her.” He laughed and backed the black horse out of Richard’s reach. “She told me kisses were all she wanted, though, so you can quit snarling like a dog guarding a treat. Not that this particular treat belongs to you, whatever you may think.” He lowered two more tubs beside the first.

“She damned well does belong to me.” Richard slung two sets of tubs over his shoulders and marched into the walled garden.