Page 43 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Tommy sighed. “Any one of the table tombs, her gardener said. If Lady Boltwood finds she has more bulbs to spare, he’ll have me plant round another of the tombs tomorrow. Should look real pretty, come springtime.”

Hale didn’t give up. “Nevertheless, the fact that you chose this particular tomb—”

Daniel Davison ran a hand over his face. “As I have tried to explain, Tommy did not open the tomb.”

“I beg your pardon?” If possible, Hale stiffened even more.

“I came to the churchyard this morning to pray.” Those long, expressive hands mimed a position of prayer. “The graves, for whatever reason, have a calming effect on me.” Daniel’s head tipped slightly, almost sleepily, to one side. “I sat on the end of this very tomb. The ivy that covers it was undisturbed. If the top of the tomb had been moved, the ivy would have been detached or torn apart.” With gentle fingers he lifted the now-tattered ivy, and added almost sadly, “As it is now. When you called me over to witness the opening of the tomb, the ivy still adhered to the stone. Therefore, Tommy could not have opened the tomb, either last night, when you say there was a smuggling run, or this morning.”

Hale wilted. His voice was almost sulky. “Still, he could have put the brandy here some other time.”

“Anyone could have,” Tommy said. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

Lieutenant Hale bowed rigidly to the entire company. He directed his minion to pick up the solitary tub of brandy.

“Hardly worth your efforts, is it?” The snickers of the crowd echoed Richard’s offensive tone. “You might actually do some useful work for His Majesty if you ceased harassing innocent people and concentrated your efforts where they are needed, further down the coast.”

Hale bowed again and threw Noelle a look of fury. Followed by the group of mocking villagers, he and his companion marched away.

“Do come in and have tea,” Daniel Davison said as they strolled out of the churchyard. “The funeral is set for the day after tomorrow, if that’s acceptable to you. I have almost finished composing a eulogy. When is the wedding to take place? We must see about posting the banns.”

“No,” Richard said.

What? A storm of rage coiled inside Noelle. Ridiculous, since she didn’t mean to marry him. She should be glad that he had finally come to his senses. He didn’t want a woman who was no fun and insulted him to boot.

And yet, how dare he be affronted, when he habitually insulted all and sundry, including Noelle herself? And that was the least of his sins.

When she left England, he would be relieved, and so would she.

“We don’t have time for tea,” Richard said. “My mother is awaiting us. We’re taking a little jaunt into Chichester today. Bride-clothes and such, you know.”

“Some other time, then,” Daniel said. “Shall I post the banns this Sunday?”

“No.” Noelle stuck her nose in the air. “We’re not really betrothed.”

“So much for secret non-betrothals,” Richard murmured.

“Not betrothed?” Daniel Davison gaped from one to the other. “But my dear Miss de Vallon, you must be betrothed.” He gulped. “I mean, after last night, uh, I should say, the rumors about last night . . .” He floundered to a halt.

Richard gave a crack of unamused laughter. “Don’t worry, Daniel. She may be ruined, but Sir Matthew won’t foist her onto you.”

“Definitely not,” Noelle said. Before Richard could toss another insult her way, she said, “According to my uncle, I’m a shameless hussy, completely unfit to be a clergyman’s wife, so you’re in no danger at all.”

She couldn’t tell which emotion was uppermost on poor Daniel’s face: anger, embarrassment or chagrin. Or relief.

“Richard is being chivalrous,” Noelle went on. “He doesn’t really want to be stuck with me. I’m going to jilt him as soon as the scandal dies down.”

“But my dear Miss de Vallon—”

“Don’t waste your breath, Daniel,” Richard said. “For one who prides herself on her ability to think rationally, Noelle is proving surprisingly stupid. The scandal will never die down.”

“No, indeed,” Daniel said. “In fact, I greatly fear that your uncle will, uh—”

“Throw me into the street?” Noelle held her head high. “I’m aware of that.” Mordieu, she didn’t want to discuss this. It would only lead to questions and more questions. “I have made alternate arrangements. I shall be perfectly fine, I assure you.”

Richard took this in with a slight frown. Next, he would start probing into her plans for the future. She closed her lips tightly together. It was none of his business, but she would have to make something up to fend him off.

But Richard, in his languid way, fell into step with his friend, leaving Noelle to follow if she chose. “By the way, Dan, thank you for holding the fort. I can’t have that excise officer harassing my villagers.”