Smuggler's Kiss (25 page)

Will stalked off to the prow to be alone.

‘Don’t take any notice of them,’ I told him, joining him there. ‘They will have their fun and forget it again.’ I smiled as it occurred to me that this was very similar to the advice he himself had given me just a few months ago.

‘Even you are laughing at me!’ he exclaimed.

‘No, not at all. I’m just amused to be repeating your own advice back to you,’ I explained. ‘And if I did laugh, is that so bad?’

‘You have no idea,’ he growled. ‘Dressing me like a maid … ’ he glowered at me. ‘How could you?’

‘How is that worse than dressing me in those dreadful breeches?’ I exclaimed indignantly. ‘I was so ashamed at the immodesty of it, I didn’t know where to look or what to do. You should be ashamed at making such a fuss!’ I looked at his still-indignant face and began to laugh again.

Reluctantly, Will grinned back. ‘I’ll never hear the last of it from the men,’ he said.

The profit we turned on the lace was considered so worthwhile, and the demand for the costly commodity so great, that Will was obliged to play the maid several more times. He grumbled, but did as he was asked. He had a considerable talent for acting and soon moved easily in woman’s garb.

Slowly, the days began to draw out. Time passed and still I waited for a chance to speak to Will. The ship was crowded and busy and somehow there never seemed to be a time when we wouldn’t be overheard. I began to wonder whether Will deliberately avoided being alone with me; certainly he never took me with him on his solitary trips ashore. Or perhaps I was being cowardly, for I surely could have told him I needed to speak privately, but I didn’t do so.

Soon we all knew winter was fading. Some days the sun had a little warmth in it when it broke through the clouds.

‘Just another month before we’re all toiling in the fields again,’ said Will, shielding his eyes as he looked towards the green coast of England.

‘Is that what you do in the summer too?’ I asked, surprised.

‘It is. But unlike the others, I go to France,’ said Will.

‘What’s wrong with England?’ I asked.

‘I prefer France,’ said Will, not meeting my eyes.

I could make nothing of his enigmatic remarks or his secrecy. I wondered not for the first time what I would do when the crew dispersed. Where would I go? All winter I’d pushed aside the thought of my own situation. The time was fast approaching when I could escape it no longer.

It was ironic that our destination tonight brought me, in a sense, full circle. Our penultimate venture of the dying winter took us into the beach at Durdle Door. The very place I’d fled in such despair five months earlier. Since then, my despair had left me. Life was still complicated, but it was precious to me. For a while I’d found a purpose, or at least a merry distraction, aboard
The Invisible
.

The dilemma kept me awake during the crossing that night. I thought of all the things I’d like to do, and none of them were realistic. Then I thought about Will, and all the aspects of his behaviour that made no sense. Spending the summer working as a common labourer in France. Disguising himself whenever he went ashore in England. I remembered that he hadn’t ventured out at all at Worth Matravers over Christmas. And yet on board the ship and in Cherbourg, he wore no disguise at all. What reason could he have for concealing his identity in England? The other Gentlemen never did so. They came and went quite openly; apparently fearless of prosecution. So it could scarcely be due to the smuggling itself.

A cold feeling crept over me. Was he … it was hard to frame the words even in my mind. But I needed to: was he wanted by the law? For something other than evading duty? Those men had been searching for him before Christmas and had mentioned a reward. There was obviously something I didn’t know. I wriggled, the very notion filling me with darkness. I couldn’t lie still any longer. I had to get up.

The weather was calm and bright, and I found my way to the open deck to think and watch away from the constrictive discomfort of my narrow bunk and stuffy cabin.

I had a shock when I saw that Will was at the helm. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see him right now. He lifted his hand in greeting, but was too much occupied to speak to me. That suited me; I craved solitude for a spell.

The moon was high in the clear black sky, casting a brilliant silvery light over the quiet waters of the channel. Stars frosted the heavens, like shards of ice scattered by an idle hand. Wrapped in my shawl, I contemplated the natural world around me and drew strength from its divine beauty.

Almost sub-consciously, I picked up the loose end of rope and began to practise the knots I’d learned. Right hand over left; twist, tug. I went through them all: clove hitch, anchor bend, sheet bend, bowline, mooring hitch, buntline hitch. Sometimes they fell apart in my hand or tangled. Each time, I started again.

As I practised, Will faded from my mind and I went back to thinking over my own future. Unfortunately, inspiration stayed far from me. No matter how hard I thought, there was no solution to the mess I’d made of my life. My aim had always been marriage and status. I never remembered wishing for anything else. That had been compromised by my father’s stunning loss. What did a person do when their life-long goal failed them? I had no idea. I’d fled the disaster, but I’d not escaped. The problems had followed me.

‘Isabelle,’ said Will’s voice behind me. I started and turned to face him. As always in recent weeks, the sight of his handsome face made my breath come short. It was no good. I had to get the better of feelings that could only lead me into trouble. ‘You’re getting better at those, I see, though you’ve tied that one left-handed again.’ I hurriedly pulled it free and began again. ‘Is this the right time of night to be practising?’

‘Will,’ I said, with a fair assumption of calm. ‘You’ve left your post?’

‘My turn on duty is over,’ he replied, indicating the skipper at the wheel behind us. ‘It’s time for me to snatch a few hours sleep, but I’m curious as to what has kept you so still in the prow for over an hour when you should be sleeping.’

‘Ah just restless thoughts,’ I said with a small sigh, looking away from him out to sea.

Will leaned on the rail beside me. ‘Tell me?’ he invited. ‘As a friend.’

I swallowed, unsure how to speak, or how to put my doubts into words. ‘Very well, as a friend,’ I said after a long pause. It was hard to say the word, difficult to meet his eyes. ‘I truly have no idea what is to become of me next week.’

‘Your family?’ asked Will. ‘Would they not be overjoyed to see you? They must think you dead.’

I bit my lip. ‘No doubt they do,’ I agreed. ‘There are reasons I cannot return to them.’

‘Tell me,’ Will repeated. ‘You can trust me, you know.’

Could I? I knew he meant it kindly. But would he not judge me if he heard the truth? I dreaded seeing his expression change; the warm concern that filled his face now fade and be replaced with shock.

‘Truly, when I think back to the person I was five months ago,’ I said abruptly, ‘I positively loathe myself. It drenches me with shame.’

Will laughed softly, but not in an unkind way. ‘You were hard to like,’ he said. ‘A lesson to all of us in how a perfectly good person can be ruined by indulgence.’

I buried my face in my hands. ‘But I’m not sure I am a good person,’ I said. It came out as a muffled groan.

Will ruffled my hair casually. ‘We know better,’ he said lightly.

I merely shook my head. I dropped my hands, but kept my face averted, still looking out to sea though I no longer saw the beauty of the night.

‘I need to tell you … ’ I began, but Will spoke at the same time.

‘Never fear, Isabelle,’ Will said cheerfully. We won’t leave you to starve. I won’t … ’

His voice tailed off. I didn’t know what he had wanted to say, or what had intruded to prevent him completing his sentence.

‘I don’t deserve it,’ I said.

‘So what has brought on this sudden remorse?’ Will asked me in a bantering tone. I could tell he was trying to cheer me. ‘You certainly made life uncomfortable for yourself and everyone else when you were first on board. But we’re all friends now. So why repine?’

‘Perhaps because we’re going back,’ I said.

Will sobered suddenly. ‘Ah! Durdle,’ he said. ‘Yes, I can see that the scene could be painful to you in more ways than one.’

We both fell silent. We stood quietly side by side thinking each our own thoughts. There was more of my story I should tell him. I tried to make myself speak the words but my tongue cleaved to the roof of my mouth.

‘Did you love him so much?’ asked Will softly, shocking me out of my abstraction.

‘What?’ I asked confused for a moment. Then I recalled that Will thought I’d walked into the sea that night for the love of the young viscount. He didn’t know the truth. I blushed scarlet.

It was Will’s turn to look confused. ‘James Marlow … the man you were going to marry,’ he said uncertainly. ‘Who else?’

‘I … yes. I mean, no,’ I stammered. ‘I thought myself in love with him certainly. But looking back, seeing it more clearly now, I hardly knew him. I believe I was more in love with his rank, his fortune, with the idea of marriage. I longed so much to be a bride. To make a good match. And that one was brilliant … ’

‘What is it, Isabelle?’ Will asked when I faltered and stopped. A sudden gust of wind blew over us, filling the sails and pulling the boat forward in a great lurch.

I turned to him, resolute, determined to be brave. ‘Will, there’s something I need to tell you. It wasn’t because of him. That’s not why you found me in the sea that night. At least, he was only a part of the reason. There’s something else. Something that happened afterwards that you should know about.’

Will was looking at me half eagerly, half anxiously. Another gust of wind swept across us, this time so fierce that the ship heeled and we both caught at the rail.

‘Will!’ the skipper shouted. ‘Ring the bell; get some more hands on deck! We need to reef the sails!’

Will dropped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it briefly. With a regretful backward glance, he ran to the bell. I watched as he rang it and then swung himself up into the rigging. I followed him, and side by side we worked to reef the mainsail, tying the fastenings off securely, using the knots I’d learned. I worked until men began to stumble sleepily onto the deck from below. The fresh wind that was now squalling over us and a sudden burst of rain soon woke them, and the ship bustled with activity. They joined us in the rigging, stronger and more experienced than I was. I was soon pushed aside as they took over.

I wasn’t needed any longer. Feeling hollow, I climbed back down to the deck and went to my cabin. But until the dawn was flushing the sky pink, I still couldn’t fall asleep.

Having been up all night, I slept much of the next day and awoke hungry and with a headache. It was already growing dark when I left the cabin, and we were close in to the coast. I cast the land an uninterested glance, and sought Harry in the galley and settled down to a hunk of bread with bacon to assuage my hunger.

Below, I could already hear the men shifting the kegs ready for unloading and I’d seen the look-outs in the rigging. We were waiting for the signal; preparing for the landing. ‘Should be a straightforward one tonight,’ remarked Harry, sliding onto the bench beside me.

‘That’s good,’ I mumbled.

‘You look terrible,’ Harry told me. ‘Where’ve you been all day?’

‘Sleeping,’ I said shortly. ‘Harry, how did Will come to be with you? He doesn’t seem the type to be aboard a smuggling vessel.’

Harry laughed shortly. ‘Neither do you, come to that. He joined us at the beginning of last winter. We don’t own
The Invisible
, you know. It’s sad, but true. We’re free-traders, but not free men. We get paid by the venturer who owns this ship. He sent us Will to be our agent and negotiator. We suspected he was here as a spy. You know, to make sure none of us were cheating the boss. We gave him a hard time.’

I wondered if this was the mystery that Will had been alluding to. ‘And was he?’ I asked curiously.

‘None of us know. But he’s a damn good agent. We never had so many runs, so many customers. He’s negotiated us better pay too. Everything’s run like clockwork since Will came aboard. He’s risked his life for us a number of times. Whatever he is to the venturer, most of us trust him now.’

‘I see,’ I said, puzzled. Will was an enigmatic character, half comrade, half … what? The puzzle of what a gentleman-born was doing among smugglers was far from explained.

I went up on deck to help watch for the signal from the beach. It was bright and clear tonight and I wasn’t the only one to spot it. The boats left us, heading into the dark and the sound of waves on shingle. I saw Will leave on a boat full of casks and when the boat returned he was gone.

‘Where’s Will?’ I asked the skipper as he gave the order to set sail.

‘We’re picking him up tomorrow in Lulworth,’ the skipper replied briefly.

Tomorrow. That wasn’t so very long to wait. I would speak to him as soon he returned. It was important to me to tell him the truth now.