Forsters 04 - Romancing the Runaway (16 page)

“What? Oh yes, I suppose they are.”

“What’s this?” Gabe pointed to a table directly beneath a larger gap, with a makeshift funnel leading up to the open air. “There’s been someone in here, and recently. Look at all this equipment, and these footprints. We didn’t make those.”

“There can’t have been. Why…what—” She shook her head, appearing totally bewildered. “I don’t understand.”

“Did you notice the new rope handrail leading down the steps?”

“Yes, but I assumed Dalton installed it as a kindness when I came home. He knows how much I enjoy coming down here and was always warning me to be careful on the steps.”

“Somehow I doubt it was him.”

“Oh, then perhaps it was someone from Mr. Banks’s estate who wished to gain access to the cove from our land for some reason. Perhaps their access steps have crumbled away. They always were more treacherous than ours.”

“It seems unlikely. What does Banks do?”

“Nothing now. He’s quite elderly and he and his wife spend a lot of time on the continent where the climate is more beneficial for his aching bones. He made his fortune through tin mining but that business no longer thrives in these parts. The bottom fell out of the market. Besides, most of the mines are worked out.”

Gabe took notice. “Banks has tin mines on his land? I don’t recall you mentioning the fact before.”

“It didn’t seem germane. Besides, they’re no longer worked.”

“How long since they were?”

“I believe he continued until quite recently.” She shrugged. “He’s a stubborn gentleman and refused to admit defeat until it cost more to extract the tin than he could hope to recoup. He was certainly still mining when I left here to attend Miss Frobisher’s school but before Papa died he wrote to tell me that he’d ceased mining. Why are you so interested?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Gabe crouched to examine the paraphernalia he’d just discovered. An open fire below a sturdy metal table, several scarred pans and that chimney. He straightened up again, rubbing his chin as he tried to make sense of it.

“What did Banks do with the by-products of his mining?” Gabe asked, a germ of an idea forming inside his head.

“What do you mean?”

“The flue dusts produced during the refining process?”

“Oh, these you mean.”

She led the way outside. Where the shingle beach abutted the cliff edge there were piles of damp gritty dust resembling grey sand. Gabe scooped some up in his gloved hand and wrapped it in a handkerchief.

“Do the caves link directly to the old mine shafts?” he asked.

“No.”

“Ah, then that can’t be it.” Gabe stared at the sea, convinced he was on the right track but missing something vital. “Now, if this cove was accessible by boat, it would make more sense.”

“The fishermen use it all the time to lay their lobster and crab pots.”

“But I thought you told me it wasn’t possible to come close to the shore.”

“Forgive me. I thought you intended to anchor
The Celandine
here. It would be entirely unsuitable for that purpose but small wherries can come to shore quite easily on a high tide. Not that they need to do so very often, but local fishermen know the shoreline like the backs of their hands. They could tell you where every rocky hazard is situated and navigate to shore blindfolded.”

“Well then,” he said, smiling at her. “I think I know what your guardian’s interest in your property is.”

“What is it?”

“Arsenic, Miranda. Arsenic has been in short supply since the war and the downturn in Cornish mining.”

“I had no idea, but still fail to understand the connection.”

“If I remember my chemistry aright, then the dust I just put in my pocket is a toxic by-product high in the arsenide that tin and copper naturally produce. If Peacock’s found a way to solidify it and transport it out of here, then he’ll make a fortune. No wonder he needs control of this property.”

“Are you absolutely sure about that?” Miranda blinked in apparent confusion. “It seems rather extreme.”

“It’s the only explanation.”

“Even if you’re right, how did they find out about it? Neither of my guardians spend any time in this part of the world.”

“That’s something I have yet to discover.” Gabe grasped her arm and whistled to Tobias. “Come along, if you’re ready to leave, I’ll escort you back to the house before the storm hits. I need to make sure I’m right, then we’ll look into how Peacock and Nesbitt became aware of it.”

Chapter Sixteen

Miranda was acutely aware of Lord Gabriel close on her heels as they ascended the steps from the cove. She could hear his breathing, inhale his musky scent, and she took a perverse sort of comfort from having him with her, even though she would prefer him not to be there. In fact, she was quite out of charity with him for making her feel so confused. Confound him, why had he felt the need to intrude on her solitude? He’d caught her off guard, embarrassing her because she was sure he must have heard her crying. She wasn’t thinking straight, which was the only reason why she permitted him to kiss her.

Liar!

The fizzing had raged out of control the moment he pulled her into his arms, which really wouldn’t do. It seemed to rob her of all common sense, and had he not instigated the kiss, she couldn’t be precisely sure that she wouldn’t have taken matters into her own hands. So deep was her hunger for affection and her curiosity to know how it would feel to be kissed by him that she appeared to have developed a shameless streak.

It was most inconvenient, having shown such weakness before him. Still, he seemed able to brush it aside as though it were of no consequence. Miranda scowled. As she’d just suggested to him, gentlemen in his position probably went around kissing ladies all the time and expected them to be pathetically grateful. The last thing on her mind was gratitude. The situation shouldn’t have arisen, but she’d put it to the back of her mind and forget all about it. There was nothing else to be done.

Louisa Marshall and her list of eligible gentlemen flashed through her mind, compelling her to squelch a smile. What she would give to see her classmate’s face if she discovered that the suave Lord Gabriel—so close to the top of that list—had actually kissed mousy Miranda Cantrell?

“I still don’t understand why arsenic would be so profitable,” she said when they reached the top of the steps and walked briskly side by side towards the house. “Is the poisoner’s trade in the ascendancy this season?”

Lord Gabriel—had he really invited her to use his name?—laughed. “Arsenic isn’t just used as a poison. You’d be surprised just how many products bear traces of it.”

“Such as?”

“Glass manufacture, lead-shot and leather tanning spring immediately to mind. It’s an ingredient in sheep dips and some medicines too. It’s also used by the unscrupulous in lady’s face creams, although I believe there’s a risk of permanent disfigurement.”

“Goodness, I had no idea.”

“I’m assuming your erstwhile guardians would prefer it if no one does. That’s why they need to instigate production in secret.”

“In my cave?” Miranda felt outraged. “That would be a desecration.”

“Which is why we won’t permit it to happen,” he replied calmly, sending her a warm smile.

“Presumably he would need to produce arsenic on a large scale to make it worth his while.”

“Yes, but all the adjoining coves to yours will be full of similar grit.”

“Yes, I imagine they are. There are old mine workings all along this coast.”

“Well then, they’ll use local fishermen to bring in small boatloads to your cove, where the arsenic will be extracted and turned back into a solid.”

“How would they do that?”

“You’re stretching my limited knowledge of the process by asking that question. I believe they need to heat the grit to sublimate the arsenic and then cool the gas to condense it back into a solid.” Lord Gabriel shrugged. “Straightforward enough if you know what you’re doing, I would imagine.”

“Wouldn’t it be dangerous?”

“If there was no way for the gases to escape, then yes. Still, I don’t suppose men like Peacock and Nesbitt would lose much sleep if a few workers died in an effort to make the pair of them rich.”

“I’m sure they would not.” Miranda wrinkled her nose, walking briskly to offset the cold. “The experimental chimney. Is that what put you on the right lines?”

“Yes. When you mentioned tin mining and then I saw all that apparatus, it seemed obvious.”

Not to me.
“Why must the arsenic be in solid form?”

“Presumably because it would be safer to transport it that way. They’d take it out by boat, the same way they’d bring the grit in, and have it loaded onto a larger vessel situated probably about where
The Celandine
is right now.” Gabe ground his jaw. “Very clever. This estate is isolated but not so isolated that activity in and around it would go unnoticed.”

“Which is why they needed me to return home a married woman?”

“Yes, although I imagine your husband would make you stay in at his father’s home while he remained here to oversee the arsenic business. He wouldn’t want you to know anything about it.”

“Humph! I’d like to see him attempt it. However, since I shall
never
marry William Peacock, it’s a moot point.”

“Speaking of which, I actually came to find you to tell you I’ve received a letter from Darius. We can expect the pleasure of your guardians’ company within the next day or two.”

“I look forward to getting that encounter out of the way.”

They reached the house but instead of going in, Gabe headed for the stables.

Miranda followed him. “Are you going to set up an experiment to see if you really can extract arsenic from that dust you collected?”

“Lord no, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing and would probably blow the entire place to kingdom come.” His brown eyes sparkled with amusement. “There’s a far easier way to prove I’m on the right lines. Dalton!”

“M’lord.” Dalton scurried out in response to Gabe’s summons. He really was becoming a proficient scurrier, Miranda thought, suppressing a grin.

“Dalton, those steps down to the cove—”

“Lord have mercy, you haven’t been down there, have you, Miss Miranda?”

“Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I?”

“That handrail’s quite rotted away. I’ve been meaning to renew it. Didn’t seem any point when you weren’t here ‘cos no one else ever goes down there. Mrs. Dalton reminded me just the other day to see to it but it went clean out of my head.”

Gabe turned to Miranda and smiled. “I think we now have all the proof we need.”

“Proof?” Dalton removed his cap and scratched his head. “Proof of what, m’lord?”

“Did Miss Cantrell’s guardians venture down to the cove when they paid you a visit?”

“Can’t rightly say. They wandered all over the place and were gone for hours. It weren’t up to me to follow them about and do their bidding. In fact, they seemed awful secretive, now I come to think about it. They told me to go about my business and leave them to theirs.”

Miranda had heard enough and had no further reason to remain in Gabe’s company. It wouldn’t do to seem like a clinging violet just because they’d shared one silly little kiss. A kiss that meant absolutely nothing at all. “Prey excuse me,” she said. “I have things to do.”

“By all means.”

Gabe doffed his hat and she felt his gaze burning into her back as she left him.

*

Bill muttered every swear word in his vocabulary as he and Luke put their shoulders against the rear of the carriage and pushed as hard as they could to extract it from the deep rut. Peacock grasped one of the horse’s bridles and shouted irascible instructions.

“Push harder, you lazy imbeciles! Put your backs into it, for pity’s sake, or we’ll be here all night.”

The wheels spun, splattering Bill and Luke with wet mud, but the carriage only moved an inch or two before settling back into the rut more deeply than before.

“It would help if them two did something useful.” Bill wiped mud from his face and spat more from between his lips. Nesbitt and William Peacock stood to one side, watching proceedings with apparent disinterest. “I told ’im the weather was too bad to move on today, but would he listen? Would he heck as like.”

“Wouldn’t spring for another night in that last posting inn, that’s his trouble,” Luke said in a belligerent tone.

“Well, I’m done with ’im, the skinflint. All these years of service and he treats me like the muck that’s now all over me.”

“What you gonna do then, Bill?”

Bill grunted as they made another effort to move the carriage. This time the wheels spun onto slightly firmer ground, but Bill and Luke both fell flat on their faces.

“What are you doing, idiots? Get up at once, before the carriage rolls back and crushes you both.”

“Arsenic, that’s why he needs the gal’s estate. The fool thinks he can make arsenic from old mining grit and sell it to all and sundry.”

Luke picked himself up and shook like a dog, ineffectually attempting to dislodge the wet mud. “You heard them talking about it?”

“Yeah, and it’s the daftest scheme I’ve ever heard of.” Bill ignored Peacock’s gesticulations, adjusted his filthy clothing and glanced up at the sky. “I reckon we’re in for another storm so we’ll have to wait it out at the next inn whether he likes it or not. ’’Course, that means Forster won’t be able to get away in his ship, not if he hasn’t already left.”

“So he’ll be there when we arrive. You planning on changing sides?”

“Seems to me, if a man of his standing’s still hanging round the Cantrell girl’s petticoats there has to be a reason why.” He sniffed. “A fool in lust and his money’re soon parted, especially when he’s as rich as Forster’s supposed to be.”

“You have a point there, Billy. You have a point.” Luke’s head shot up. “But a man like Forster would never marry Miranda Cantrell. He’s probably just using her to warm his bed and it won’t bother him if people know it, so why would he need us?”

“Because he won’t wanna see her hitched to drippy William over there, will he now? He’s probably still keen to dip his wick in that sweet young well and you can’t blame him for that. She’s a prime piece, that Miranda. I always said as much.” Bill leaned against the carriage, into which his three hated passengers had quickly installed themselves, snug, warm and dry. “The gentry get jealous every bit as easily as the rest of us.”

“You think Forster might show his gratitude by offering us easy, secure jobs on his estate?”

“Come along, get moving.” Peacock leaned out the window and rapped the side of the carriage with his cane. “We don’t have all day.”

“There’s no knowing what he’ll do, Luke.” The carriage swayed as Bill clambered onto the box seat and took up the ribbons. “But I’ve got a good feeling about this one,
and
I know what those two swells have planned for Miss Cantrell once Forster returns to London, which he’ll have to do eventually.”

“What’s that then?”

Bill told him. “Seems to me they can do what they like, unless we stop ’em. We need to keep our eyes and ears open and our mouths shut and wait for the main chance. I think our luck is about to change, young Luke.”

*

Gabe mucked in with the workers during the day, thoroughly enjoying getting his hands dirty. He had the added satisfaction of seeing the Wildes gradually being restored to its former glory, thanks in part to his efforts. Given the unusual circumstances, he thought it rather silly that in the evenings Mrs. Dalton insisted on him and Miranda dining formally in the still chilly dining room, with Munford waiting table. Left to his own devices, Gabe would have preferred to eat at the kitchen table, warmed by the stove, tempted by the smell of freshly baked bread and Mrs. Dalton’s meat pies. He suspected Miranda was of the same mind but presumably their presence there would shock and offend Mrs. Dalton’s sensibilities, as well as stifling conversation between the staff.

He sighed as he tied his neckcloth. No, the proprieties had to be observed, so he played his part and dressed for dinner every night. Miranda made an effort, too, but so far hadn’t worn either of the two evening gowns he’d enjoyed seeing her in at the Hall. He couldn’t blame her for that. The Wildes’s formal rooms still hadn’t completely thawed out and those dresses could best be described as skimpy.

Unsurprisingly, her welfare had been a pressing priority since he’d rescued her from that barn back at the Hall. Kissing had complicated everything. He still didn’t know what had made him do it but he couldn’t regret his actions. Her response had been natural and instinctive, full of curiosity but lacking in any obvious desire to trap him. Since arriving in Cornwall and seeing the daunting task she’d set for herself, his respect for his feisty, single-minded companion had changed into a far deeper feeling. One he didn’t care to examine too closely since he’d never experienced anything like it before. It filled him with the desire to do something to please her and make her smile.

The loss of the possessions from her house angered and troubled her, as it did Gabe. He hated avarice. Peacock had robbed his ward of items that held great sentimental value. The man had been appointed to a position of trust, one which he had abused, and for which Gabe fully intended to exact revenge.

Gabe was unsure if he’d be able to get Miranda’s family heirlooms back for her, but he would certainly try. What he was more confident about achieving was the return of Sultan, her father’s stallion. Miranda was greatly attached to the beast and lamented his loss. Gabe had that afternoon instructed Wright to call on Sultan’s new owner and negotiate the repurchase of the animal. If the man really couldn’t handle him, as Dalton appeared to think was the case, then that at least ought to be achievable. Wright would carry out that assignment the moment the coming storm had passed and he’d ensured the security of
The Celandine.

Miranda and Tobias joined him as he was enjoying a glass of whiskey in front of the blazing sitting room fire. As though reading his mind, this evening she was wearing the blue gown that had once belonged to Flick, a shawl draped around her shoulders.

“Good evening,” he said, standing. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough?”

She grinned. “No, but Jessie bullied me into wearing this gown. She seems to think I’ve been letting the side down. I don’t have the courage to stand up to her when she’s quite made up her mind about something.”

Gabe didn’t believe it for a moment. “Well, selfishly I’m glad.”

Her cheeks warmed and she looked away as she took the chair opposite his. “I’ve been thinking about this arsenic business,” she said, accepting a glass of peach cordial from Munford and expressing her thanks. “Why don’t we simply tell my guardians when they get here that we know what they plan to do and aren’t prepared to permit it?”