Page 83 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Richard shrugged. He had no sympathy for Jackson, but Noelle would rightly rage at the injustice that Lady Ariadne, the real traitor, went free while Jackson had to die.

Sir Frederick sighed. “Even that’s not enough. If you’re right—and I don’t admit that—I shall have to require Sir William to resign his post. If he can’t keep his mouth shut, he’s not fit for the job.” He sighed again, heavily. “One would think, though, that one could trust one’s own wife. One’s own servants. Gad, what is this country coming to?”

This gave Richard the opportunity to change the topic. “Speaking of wives, sir, are you aware that Lady Darsington and Dorothea are visiting my mother in Sussex?”

“Aye, she wished to attend the funeral.”

“I believe that is merely an excuse. Lady Darsington is trying to force a marriage between Dorothea and myself.”

“What the devil? Why can’t she follow instructions?” He harrumphed. “I turn my back for one moment—”

“Dorothea would greatly appreciate it if you would write to her mother, stating that you will not countenance such a match.”

“Why would I need to do that? You’re engaged to the French chit.”

“It seems Lady Darsington doubts the validity of my engagement,” Richard said. “My mother is much attached to Noelle and fully supports the marriage. Why should Lady Darsington assume otherwise?”

Belatedly, Richard realized that he shouldn’t have put it like that, for it questioned Sir Frederick’s own discretion.

The older man’s stare raked Richard down. “Because she wants to. She wants Dot to marry a title, and once she gets a notion into her head, she’s like a bull terrier with a cat in its jaws.”

Richard blinked at this frank description of the man’s wife.

“But that’s not the point. You said nothing of this plan to marry when I sent you to Sussex.” Sir Frederick paused. “Or, for that matter, when I asked you to squire Dorothea about on an entirely different mission.”

“Because at that time, it might have come to my father’s ears.” Richard drained his wine. “I don’t appreciate your lack of trust in me.”

“And I don’t appreciate your withholding information! Why didn’t you tell me you were enamored of the girl?”

“Because, sir, it was an unnecessary distraction from more important matters.”

“Because you thought I would send someone else in your stead.”

“No,” Richard retorted, “because in that case, I would have had to come down and rescue her anyway.”

“What with you keeping me in the dark, and that damned excise agent swearing Miss de Vallon was in the care of an aunt and uncle who rarely let her out of their sight, I’m sorely tempted to get rid of both you and him.”

He’d already spoken to Hale—quick work, but Sir Frederick was always in search of new underlings.

“You were reduced to trysting in the garden at midnight, he tells me. Uncle doesn’t approve of the match. Pshaw!”

“That’s perfectly true, sir. Mademoiselle de Vallon’s uncle wishes me at the devil. He wanted to fob her off onto the local vicar.”

Sir Frederick refilled his pipe. “I told your Lieutenant Hale that if he wants to work for me, I need the whole truth, not just snips and snatches.”

With difficulty, Richard maintained his imperturbable front. “And what did Hale reply?”

“That he would report the truth according to his understanding of it. Starched-up young fellow. Doubtless he’s as bewitched by the chit as you are. I’m seconding him to you.”

“Good God.”

“If he’s as sharp as you say, he’s exactly what’s needed. Don’t waste time brawling about the girl. Get your proof, and get it quickly, and if you’re serious about marrying the chit, school her to keep her mouth shut about her revolutionary views.”

~ ~ ~

Richard met Lieutenant Hale in a lowly tavern where neither of them was known, about a mile off the London road. Frequented mostly by thieves and cutthroats, the place was slim on custom in the middle of the day, but just the same Richard ordered ale in their one private room.

“You didn’t see me,” he said, placing a guinea in the massive landlord’s pasty white palm. “You won’t notice my friend either.” Another guinea. “If we get into a little scrap, you and only you will interrupt.”