Page 62 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Hale took his time unhanding her, and she took advantage of the few moments more to gather her composure. As an opponent, Lieutenant Hale paled next to Richard.

“So kind of you, Lieutenant, to assist my clumsy fiancée,” Richard said.

“It was my pleasure.” Hale didn’t move out of her way. “I see a few of your excellent pen-and-ink drawings of local scenes on sale here, mademoiselle. I thought only the Pig in a Poke was so fortunate as to display them.”

Noelle’s heart gave an unhappy leap. Had he worked out how the pictures at the alehouse were used by the smugglers? That would explain how he’d known to come to her uncle’s garden the night before. It was bad enough when Richard divined her plans, but far worse when it was Hale.

The excise officer gloated at her discomfiture. “I came in hopes of finding a print of the dewdrops and roses I found you drawing one day at dawn.”

When she’d been playing decoy, which he knew perfectly well. “It’s not finished.”

“You started it a month ago. Perhaps the roses are all dead by now, like the moths.”

“I have been busy with other matters, monsieur.” Noelle stalked around him.

“I am out of luck, then,” Hale said with an obnoxious sigh.

Richard’s soft voice replied, “Indeed, you are. A pity, isn’t it?”

“I’m a patient man,” Hale said. “I can wait.”

“And I’m a ruthless one,” Richard said. “Good day to you, Lieutenant.”

Much as she appreciated this scarcely-veiled threat to Hale, Noelle refused to acknowledge it, or to turn to see whether Hale was leaving. She marched into the cluttered gloom of the shop as Mr. Dole, the old printmaker, hobbled forward to greet them.

“Miss de Vallon! And Lord Boltwood. I hear I am to offer you congratulations.” He bowed low and expressed his pleasure that Lord Boltwood had returned to Sussex at last and now graced his humble shop.

Noelle got straight to the point. “Is Mr. Turlow here today?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mr. Dole said. Mr. Turlow, the naturalist, was almost never in the shop, but he provided an adequate excuse for Noelle’s visits there. “He left payment for your most recent watercolors and instructions for a few more. If you will deign to come into my office . . .” In a forceful voice for one so ancient, Mr. Dole directed his assistant to attend to Richard. “Lord Boltwood will wish to see Miss de Vallon’s prints.”

“I can see her work anytime.” Richard followed them past piles of prints, past watercolor paintings stacked a dozen deep against counters and walls, into the inky bowels of the establishment. “Your assistant may devote himself to Lieutenant Hale.”

So Hale hadn’t left. What were they to do? A glance at Richard showed him to be as confident as ever.

Mr. Dole fussed and fidgeted. “Let me see now, where are those instructions?”

Richard closed the office door behind them and said under his breath, “Pay up and be quick about it, Dole. I’m in a hurry.”

“He knows everything,” Noelle muttered apologetically to the old man. “I don’t like it any better than you do, Mr. Dole.”

“This is most inappropriate.” Mr. Dole wagged his head back and forth. He raised his voice as he handed Noelle a slip of paper. “Mr. Turlow is such an eccentric. I don’t know where he thinks you will find cucumber flowers and butterflies at this time of year.”

“Unfortunately, I shan’t have time to provide any watercolors for the foreseeable future.” She accepted a small purse, glanced at the coins inside, and stowed it in her reticule.

“Mr. Turlow will be disappointed.” Mr. Dole pulled out another, much bulkier purse, glanced at Noelle, and hesitated.

Richard put out a hand and took it. Did he intend to withhold her share? “It will be safer in my hands until we are clear of Lieutenant Hale,” he said softly.

She narrowed her eyes. Hale wasn’t likely to accost her whilst Richard was there, regardless of who held the money.

On the other hand, Mr. Dole might now be under suspicion, so she kept up the pretense that her only business here had to do with her sketches. “Pray give Mr. Turlow my apologies,” she said loudly and clearly. “Perhaps you might recommend another artist to him.”

“Unnecessary, my dear,” Richard said. “You have my full support in every enterprise you undertake.”

What was that supposed to mean? He had guessed she was leaving. Did he mean to force her to stay?

Mr. Dole scraped the floor bowing them out. If Hale were still lingering, he was invisible.