Page 91 of The Smuggler’s Escape

Noelle’s delight in this conversation meant she almost missed the opening of the service door that led to the stables. Lady Ariadne stood in the doorway, an imperious figure framed by the light. “Why did he return to the stable?” she asked loudly and pettishly. A footman behind her murmured something, but she set him aside. “My good man, I’m perfectly capable of finding Jackson on my own.” The footman stepped back, and Ariadne picked her way along the path.

Noelle frowned, remembering Lady Ariadne’s alarmed reaction to the mention of spies. She grabbed her cloak, opened the secret door, and hurried down the stairs, sheltering her candle. She blew it out and eased the door open just enough to peer through.

A light flared! Her heart stopped—for not ten yards away from her a man lounged against the wall. He pulled out a pocket watch to see the time, then clapped it shut and blew out the tiny flame on the tinder. His face remained in shadow. The man from the Home Office?

Her heart began to beat again, its heavy thuds loud in the crisp, cold night. He was facing the other way, so perhaps he hadn’t seen her. A few seconds later, he strode quietly away in the direction of the stables.

Noelle followed, holding her cloak close in the brisk breeze. She crossed the strip of lawn and slunk behind the shrubs. The man had disappeared. She crept cautiously, desperate to hear what was going on and yet avoid him.

Jackson emerged from the shelter of a tree near the stables just as Lady Ariadne approached on the path.

“Thank God you’ve come,” she cried. “Where can we speak privately?”

“This is as private as it gets. If we go off together, they’ll think we’re trysting.”

“You’re disgusting,” she hissed.

He laughed. “And yet you need me. What are you fussing about now?”

“I need money,” she said.

“Nothing new about that,” Jackson said. “Got anything to sell?”

“Yes, but . . .” She lowered her voice.

Noelle caught only a few words—desperate and must do something now, uttered on a high, whining note.

“Hush!” Jackson said. “Keep your voice down.”

“How dare you speak to me like that, you vile peasant!” she snapped.

“Because you’re stupid and out of control,” Jackson said. “Maybe you’ll just have to wait for your money. Do without.” He snorted.

“I can’t do without,” she moaned. “It’s a debt of honor!”

Jackson gave a guffaw, which he cut off abruptly. “I’ll see what I can do.” He lowered his voice and Lady Ariadne obediently kept to a whisper. Though she strained to hear, Noelle caught nothing more.