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CHAPTER13
The choppy waves splashed against the side of the skiff and rocked William and Roger with their lulling rhythm. He dragged the net from the water with Roger’s help and smiled at the plentiful pilchards flopping from within the rope’s confines.
“We might not be so awful at this fishing thing after all,” Roger said.
William chuckled, taking up an oar to row back to Collacott. “Yes. Perhaps one day we might even find success in more than one net full of fish.”
“I doubt we’ll be fishing long enough for that to be necessary.” Roger looked out over the rocky cliffs that dropped sheer sides down to the water. “Jack will be here soon.”
“And we’ve nowhere to hide the goods.”
Roger looked confused. “I thought you dug a pit in the shed.”
“I did, but it isn’t nearly large enough. My father thinks we ought to find another place to stash the barrels.”
Roger’s gaze sought the cliffs. “I’ll keep an eye out, but it’s blasted difficult to see. Could we not take them directly into town?”
“No.” William spoke no more, and Roger didn’t seem to care, instead watching the cliffs for signs of sea caves while he rowed.
Soon they’d be crossing near Camden Cove, where Jack intended to make the drop in a few days’ time, and William couldn’t help but comb the beach for sight of Pippa. It was unreasonably late, and he knew he wouldn’t find her walking the sandy shore, but that didn’t stop him from looking.
He’d beaten such a hasty retreat from her after the feast a few nights before that he was nearly ashamed of himself. But what else could he have done? He needed to keep distance between them or he would hurt her. She was already suspicious if her question had been any clue. A man of the sea or a fisherman?
William loved the sea, and he was good at what he did. It didn’t take a great deal of skill to row a boat, fill it with barrels, and take them inland. But it did take finesse to keep the townspeople happy so they would look the other way when a drop came in, and it took greasy fingers to slip coin to the revenue men he could entice in such a way.
He loved being on the ocean, or near it. He loved the sound of the waves and the salt in the air.
But he didn’t love smuggling.
His feelings were irrelevant, though. He couldn’t let his father or Jack down, and Roger was depending on him, too, fool that he was.
“Why can’t we take the loot directly into town?”
“Hmmm?” William asked, his mind having traveled to visions of a laughing, dancing Pippa.
“I just want to know why that is not an option. It cuts the need to hide anything.”
William knew he’d have to tell Roger about seeing Ainsworth, though he’d hoped to put it off until he could confirm that it was true and not a trick of the light. He didn’t want to worry the man if it was unnecessary. The trouble was that he’d gone into Collacott twice since the night of the feast and hadn’t seen Ainsworth anywhere. But he was nearly positive it was him, and he would find where Ainsworth was hiding...and moreover, why.
William cleared his throat. “I believe I saw Ainsworth. He’s here.”
Roger’s eyes widened, the moonlight shining from them as his arms went slack and his oar ceased moving. “Where? When? How many men did he have with him?”
The boat rocked with the waves, undulating up and down in a smooth, rolling motion. “The night of the feast. He slipped away before making himself known, but he was there, I know it. What I do not understand is why he is choosing to hide, and why he came alone.”
Roger scrubbed a hand over his face. “What game is he playing?”
“I haven’t quite figured it out myself. I hoped to know more before giving you reason to worry. To at least confirm his identity.”
Roger’s mouth tightened. “We must find a sea cave or dig another hiding place in the shed. If he did not come with a company of men, then...well, I’m not sure what that means. But we ought to be careful.”
“The shed cannot support another hole, but I’m sure we can find something.”
“Shall we row closer to the shores?” Roger asked. It was nearly humorous how willing he was to work when his own neck was on the line.
William agreed, and they moved closer inland.
“It’s too blasted dark.”
The moonlight wasn’t bright enough to see by. Water splashed up the side of the boat again, misting the men. Roger’s fear was nearly palpable, edging his motions and tone in clipped nervousness. But if Ainsworth had come to arrest him, surely he would have already done so.
Ainsworth’s anger the night his fellow revenue officer died flashed in William’s mind. He’d promised to exact his revenge, and William believed him. William felt for the man. He’d lost people he loved as well due to smuggling, and he understood the validity of Ainsworth’s anger.
But he loved his family, too, and he valued loyalty. It was his duty to protect Roger and his father in whatever way he could.
“Tomorrow, Roger. We’ll find something tomorrow.”
