Sir Ashley's Mettlesome Match. Mary Nichols
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had met at her come-out year, introduced by a close friend of her aunt. He was handsome and attentive and before long was escorting her to functions all over town and had sworn his undying devotion. Her other suitors faded from the scene. Everyone said it was an ideal match and, not being versed on the ways of the world, she believed them, but after a while little things began to give her doubts. He seemed to want to change her, to make her into a one of those insipid, timid young ladies, without an idea in her head of her own. His insistence that she conform made her realise he did not understand her one iota and caused dissension, which was surely not right between two people supposedly in love.
‘If I could have rescued Ben, I would have done,’ she said, mentally shrugging these unconstructive musings from her mind. ‘But they would not have taken any notice of me.’
‘What are we to do?’ Augusta asked, impatient with the way the conversation was going.
‘I had better go to Wells and see for myself,’ Sir Felix said with a sigh that indicated a reluctance to do anything of the sort. ‘Lord Borrowdale is the justice there. If I can persuade him to let the boy go, I will.’
‘Oh, please do,’ Augusta said. ‘We will be for ever in your debt if you can effect his release, won’t we, Pippa?’
‘Yes,’ Pippa murmured.
It was obvious to Ash that the young lady was as reluctant to be in the baronet’s debt as he was to confront his judicial colleague. ‘If you wish, Sir Felix,’ he ventured, ‘I will go to Wells and make enquiries on your behalf. I am acquainted with his lordship. A request for the release of one of his prisoners might come better from me, since you know the boy and your action might be wrongly interpreted. What do you say?’
‘Capital idea!’ Sir Felix said with great relief. ‘I should hate to be accused of being in league with smugglers.’
‘And that would never do,’ Ash said with a barely concealed smile. ‘I shall need one of the ladies to accompany me to identify the boy and lend weight to my argument. As Mrs Whiteside seems overcome, perhaps you would come with me, Miss Kingslake?’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘How shall we travel?’
‘I have my carriage,’ Ash said. ‘It will take but a few minutes to have it harnessed and ready.’
‘You cannot go unchaperoned,’ Augusta said, suddenly recovering some of her usual aplomb.
‘Oh, Aunt, what does it matter? This is not London, nor even Norwich. I go out and about here unchaperoned and no one thinks anything of it. You take our carriage home and have Mrs Sadler make up a tisane for you. You need to rest. After all, you had little sleep last night.’
Ash found himself smiling again. He did not know how much sleep the matron had had, but Miss Kingslake, on her own admission, had been out on the beach, burying herself in sand while the smugglers did their work. How much sleep had she had? And what did she know that she was not revealing?
‘Yes, you are right,’ Augusta agreed. ‘I should not be of any use to you if I came.’
This arrangement did not please Sir Felix, but he could not object since he had said he was glad of Ash’s help. Instead he sent word that Sir Ashley’s equipage was to be made ready.
Twenty minutes later Pippa found herself sitting beside her escort in one of the most luxurious carriages she had ever seen. It had steel springs and padded rich blue velvet cushions, and it was pulled by a pair of matched white horses. Sir Ashley was evidently very rich, as well as handsome and agreeable. If she had not been so worried about Ben and Nat, she would be enjoying the outing.
‘Why do you suppose the dragoons took their prisoners so far?’ she asked as they made their way along the narrow coastal road that joined the villages and towns of north Norfolk. ‘Sir Felix usually deals with Narbeach matters.’
‘Perhaps they thought he would be biased in the prisoners’ favour,’ he said. ‘Especially if they were local men, known to him. On the other hand it might simply be that they were anxious to get back to their warm billets. There again, they would want to be sure they received their share of the prize money.’
‘Most of the contraband had left the beach by the time they turned up,’ she told him. ‘It was amazing how quickly the men scattered with their loads, leaving only the stragglers and a few kegs and bundles behind. I would be very surprised if they reached the Customs House.’
‘Tut, tut, Miss Kingslake, you are surely not suggesting the Customs men are corrupt,’ he said, but he was laughing.
‘The boats went back to the ship and it sailed away,’ she said, her own lips twitching. ‘How much was still on board, I could not say.’
‘We could probably calculate that if you can describe the ship and remember what you saw landed. If there was anything left on board, they will undoubtedly make another run.’
‘It was a cutter, but as to the cargo, I do not know if I can be accurate.’ She paused to frame her question, risking a rebuff. ‘What is your interest in smugglers, Sir Ashley? Are you a Revenue man?’
He thought of telling her the truth about the Piccadilly Gentlemen, but decided against it. He had no idea how deeply she was involved in lawlessness. ‘No. I, like you, am an ordinary citizen curious about how law and order is maintained.’
Her mind flew to Nat and Joe and the other village men. Smuggling was a crime punishable by death and yet all the coastal villages indulged in it. Wherever there was a suitable place to land and places to hide the goods until they could be taken inland and sold, men were prepared to risk their lives for the rich rewards on offer. People like Sir Ashley Saunders were a serious threat to them. ‘Did you come to Narbeach on purpose to catch smugglers?’ she asked, endeavouring to hide her dismay.
‘It is a huge and profitable business and is depriving the Exchequer of many thousands of pounds every year, Miss Kingslake,’ he said, evasively. ‘Its perpetrators are violent and not above murder and intimidation, as you, who live on the coast, must surely know.’
He had not answered her question, but she let it go. ‘Yes, but some of the men are forced to join in for fear of reprisals on their families and, besides, the lure of money to a poor man with a wife and family to support is irresistible.’
‘I am aware of that, Miss Kingslake. But think of this. If there were no smugglers and everyone paid their proper dues, the country would be better off and that includes the poor man in his cottage, who would not be afraid of a knock on the door in the middle of the night.’
She did not like the sound of that, not with Ben in the hands of the law and Nat missing, though she was careful not to let it show. ‘If you are not a Revenue man, then who are you?’ she asked. ‘I cannot imagine an ordinary citizen setting out to change the world single-handedly.’
‘Change has to begin somewhere.’
She had to concede he was probably right, but her main concern was to protect Ben and Nat as far as she could. The fact that her companion was a handsome man with a ready smile, who made her heart flutter in a way it had not done for six years at least, was a distraction she must overcome. ‘Why Narbeach?’ she asked.
He paused to turn and face her. She was looking somewhat anxious, which probably meant she knew some of the smugglers; it would be strange if she did not, living in the village as she did. And was her cousin as innocent as she pretended? ‘Why not? Narbeach is only one of many such places. Taken together, they represent a threat to the economy of whole country.’
She was not prepared to argue that point and turned away from him to look out of the window at the countryside through which they were passing. On the inland side it was grazing land, dotted with cattle; on the seaward side the salt marshes were intersected by narrow channels of open water. Only local people dared venture on those, and she did not doubt there were hiding places for contraband in its creeks if you knew where to look. She was not thinking about the view or the contraband, but whether to consider Sir Ashley Saunders friend