Page 41 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Chapter 10

I become completely distracted when Richard is nearby, Noelle thought. If those had been excisemen—

If they had been excisemen, she wouldn’t have panicked. She would have managed fine. She had managed at the dovecote, hadn’t she?

The panic, she realized, had far more to do with their earlier discussion. With realizing that she didn’t particularly care that Richard had had a mistress in Amsterdam. Which was a good thing, correct? Once he had abandoned her, it hardly mattered what he did . . . and yet, if anything, she felt a little jealous.

How absurd, while at the same time she approved of his generous treatment of the Dutch girl, because his mistress had known what she was doing right from the start. Noelle hadn’t. She’d been fooled. Betrayed. Whenever her body warmed to Richard’s touch, she must remind herself of that. She couldn’t afford to forgive him in any way.

She clapped a hand to her hat and galloped past her uncle’s drive in Richard’s wake.

In daylight, the distance to the path and then through the woods seemed much shorter than at midnight. Soon they clopped through the alehouse yard and emerged on the village street. Richard pulled his big bay to a halt.

“We’d best tidy up a little. You look delightfully hoydenish, my love, but we don’t want to appear flustered or harried or anything of the sort.” He reached forward to tidy her curls.

She almost shoved him away, then reminded herself that she was acting a part. She was pretending to be hopelessly in love. She would want him to touch her hair. She subsided and let him do as he wished.

“Excellent.” Richard set her hat straight and took her chin in his hand. In French, he said, “We’re here to see the vicar about our marriage, not to rescue Tommy.”

“Je comprends,” Noelle snapped, backing away.

“Perhaps it would be best if you spent most of the time gazing adoringly at me.”

“I can control my eyes!” she said, and immediately those very eyes sought a way to betray her. She couldn’t decide where to look.

Richard’s lips quirked. “If by some mischance Hale insists on arresting Tommy, you are to utter no more than a token protest. I will not let him be hanged or transported, I promise you.”

“How can you possibly guarantee that?”

“I know people in positions of power,” Richard said. “They will do as I ask.”

Was this true? If so, she should tell him about the Home Office. Perhaps he had enough influence to protect her.

No, that was too risky. She wasn’t going to marry him, so what reason would he have to protect her? Better to leave while she could.

“Once again, you will have to trust me,” he said.

For now, she had no choice, so she pulled herself together and tried to drum up an expression of foolish happiness. They set off at a sedate trot toward the church.

“You were expecting something to happen to Tommy,” Noelle said, now that she finally had her wits about her. “You set your groom to watch.”

Richard nodded.

“How did you know Tommy would be here? There’s no contraband in the church. They didn’t make it this far last night. What would ordinarily have gone here got left at Johnny’s instead.” Oh. “Unless . . .”

“Tommy told me this morning that there is a tub in one of the tombs. He left it there some time ago, planning to bribe one of Hale’s men in the time-honored fashion of leaving a token cache for the excisemen to seize, but apparently the negotiations have been protracted and so far unsuccessful.”

“You sent him here to fetch it? Why? It’s just one tub. It’s not worth the risk!”

“Trust me, there’s very little risk.”

“Cochon! How could you do that to Tommy?” She clenched her fists. “I knew we shouldn’t let an arrogant, inconsiderate aristocrat help us!”

“Hush . . . No quarrelling. We’re deep in love, remember?

“I couldn’t possibly love someone who lets a friend be hanged for a tub of brandy!”

Immediately, she knew she’d gone too far, but it was too late to take back her hasty words. They had reached the church. A horse and cart stood tethered by the churchyard. Several villagers watched agape, while by one of the big table tombs stood Tommy Dalbey, Lieutenant Hale, another exciseman, and Daniel Davison, the gangly young vicar.