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CHAPTER26
Pippa stopped in the entryway of her home, her body freezing in place. “That was a gunshot.”
Mr. James cocked his head to the side. “I’m not sure...”
She speared him with a look. “It was, and you know it.” Pippa brushed past him, back out into the cold. “We must go back.”
Mr. James took her by the arm, his strong grip holding her by his side. “I will return to the cove, but you stay here, Miss Sheffield.”
“No, if it was William...” She would not allow herself to complete that thought. “I need to go back.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind them, and Pippa’s eyes drifted shut. Now there was no possibility she would be allowed out of the house. She would have to climb out her window or some other nonsense. She tugged her arm free and Mr. James released her, albeit begrudgingly.
“James?” Mac called, confused. He approached in his dressing gown and stockings, his eyes alert despite the late hour. “Pip? What is going on?”
“There was a bit of a scuffle down at the cove,” Mr. James said, watching her warily. “Smugglers.”
Mac approached, a stern look on his brow. “Who?”
“Blakemores, Caneys, Burkes. A whole lot of them, and those were only the ones I saw.”
Mac’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “You caught them?”
There was a slight hesitation before the constable said, “We found nothing. They were free to go.”
Was that relief that flattened Mac’s shoulders? Pippa squared her own. “We heard a gunshot, though, just a minute ago. I need to go back. I need to be certain—”
“You are not leaving this house. Especially not if there were shots fired.”
“But Mac—”
“No.” He ran a hand over his face. “You stay here, Pip. I’ll go.” He turned back for the stairs.
“I’ll go with you,” Mr. James said, exhaustion lining his words.
“Give me a few minutes, James. I’ll be right down.”
Pippa watched her brother-in-law retreat and looked back to Mr. James. He was an older man, undoubtedly frustrated to have been woken up in the night to deal with smugglers who appeared innocent. He watched her shrewdly, as if he could read her thoughts and knew she was determining whether or not she could slip past him and run toward the beach before he could catch her.
“Your coat is wet,” he said, indicating the heavy, black coat on her shoulders. She looked down. She’d forgotten that William had given it to her.
“Oh, it isn’t mine. My cloak is just outside hanging on those trees, and I ought to retrieve it.”
Mr. James smiled. “No, ma’am. I can see precisely what you are trying to do, and I will have none of it.”
“I am in earnest. My cloak is hanging on a tree just there.” She pointed toward the trees that lined the drive and waited for Mr. James to follow her line of vision. Once his attention was firmly on the trees, Pippa slid William’s coat smoothly from her shoulders, hiked her skirts up to her shins, and ran.
Mr. James whirled, reaching for her, and she felt his fingers brush her gown, but he did not find any purchase. The nearness of him lit a fire beneath her feet, and Pippa ran harder, the dark pressing in on her as she left the warmth of Mr. James’s torch and followed the familiar path toward Camden Cove.
Mac would be along soon, and he would certainly be angry with her, but she could not simply sit at home and wait for news. Pippa picked her way speedily down the path which her feet knew well, despite the darkness. The men were grouped exactly where she’d left them, huddled around a man on the sand while another was being held a few feet off.
But where was William?
The torch moved, lighting Mr. Ainsworth’s angry face as Roger held his arms tightly behind his back, pressing the side of his face into the sand.
If Mr. Ainsworth shot the gun and Roger was holding him back, where was William? Hot fear pulsed in Pippa’s belly, and she shoved the men aside, snaking her way between them in order to see who had fallen.
William.
