Marianne and the Marquis

Was it possible that they had an understanding? Jane might have thought she was about to lose him to a younger woman…which was quite foolish, of course. Marianne would not have encouraged him had he shown an interest, which he had not. She had merely been interested in what he had to say about the social conditions of the area. Jane could not have known that, of course, and she might have thought Marianne was concerned to attract his attention.

If Jane cared for the doctor, why had she not mentioned her feelings to her employer? Some employers did not encourage their staff to have followers, of course. Perhaps Jane thought she might be turned off if she allowed her partiality to show? And Lady Edgeworthy had just told Marianne that the doctor could not afford to marry…

Supposing that the legacies they had been left would enable them to marry? Marianne paused on the stairs as the awful thought struck her. Would they plot together to murder Lady Edgeworthy, knowing that the money she had left to them as individuals would be quite substantial when put together?

The possibility put a different complexion on the matter and was chilling. Marianne shivered, feeling suddenly cold all over. She had not believed that Jane was capable of such a thing…but a woman might do anything for the love of a man.

Without the means to marry, Jane was condemned to a life as companion to her employer. Lady Edgeworthy was kind to her, but others might not be in the future, and the legacy might not be enough to enable her to live comfortably without seeking further employment should Lady Edgeworthy die. Besides, if she was in love[ ]Marianne did not wish to think ill of either Jane or the doctor, but it now seemed that she must consider them as possible culprits, and as yet she had not met Mr Joshua Hambleton.

Of course there was also the mysterious tenant at the house on the cliffs. She had seen him from a distance several times as she was walking about the estate, although as yet they had not come face to face. Quite often she would turn and see him staring in her direction, and she had wondered if he was following her—but why should he be? Besides, he had only recently taken up residence and had not been here when her great-aunt’s medicine had been tampered with….

Chapter Three

‘I missed my chance that morning, damn it,’ Drew said. ‘I was too slow to act, Robbie. I should have tackled him before he got into the boat.’ He was feeling frustrated for there had been no further sightings of the French ship—and none at all of the man he sought.

‘You can’t be sure he was the one,’ Robbie reasoned. ‘He may just be one of the smugglers. You said the cave was empty, but you saw evidence that barrels had been stored there.’

‘There were marks in the sand where they had stood,’ Drew confirmed. ‘The tide washes into the first cave, but the caverns go back a long way. I could not explore further at the time, for I had no means of lighting the path, but I think there is a man-made tunnel leading inland. I dare say there is a warren of tunnels all over this part of Cornwall, made by miners centuries ago when tin and copper were first discovered. The smugglers know of them and have turned their existence to their advantage.’

‘That must be how they get the contraband through,’ Robbie said. ‘It would be too dangerous to take packhorses through the village, because they run the risk of being betrayed, and on the open cliffs they would be bound to be seen. Even on a dark night, someone would be sure to notice and call out the militia.’

‘Perhaps, though often the locals are remarkably closemouthed on the subject. I think they take it to somewhere on Lady Edgeworthy’s land,’ Drew said. ‘The tunnel must have its outlet there—and perhaps it is being transferred to an out-building somewhere on her estate until it is thought safe to move it inland. I dare say there may be several dropping zones before it reaches its final destination.’

‘You do not suspect Lady Edgeworthy of being involved?’

‘No, not at all,’ Drew said. ‘I am certain she does not know that her estate is being used as a cover. While the Revenue men watch the coast, the packhorses are already inland and heading for their next destination.’

‘Will you approach her? Would she allow you to make a search?’

‘For the moment there is probably nothing to find,’ Drew said. ‘I think the drop must have been made some time before we arrived—that is why I believe the man I saw being picked up is the one we are after. He was dropped when the cargo was brought ashore, and he had been…wherever he goes on his dirty business. The ship came in specially to take him off and they would not have done that unless he was important.’

‘He might simply have been the one they trusted to sell the contraband,’ Robbie suggested.

‘Yes, you may be right, but I have a hunch that he was the French contact, though it is the English spy we need.’ Drew frowned. ‘I should have acted sooner, but I was looking at the ship and the boat. I did not realise that he was hiding in the cave, waiting to come out. I missed my chance to grab him, damn it!’

‘He will come again,’ Robbie said. ‘If he has been successful this time, he will be back for more—whether it be gold for smuggled goods or information he can pass on to the French. Besides, it isn’t the smugglers you want here—is it?’

‘No, it is not. And you are right, he will come again,’ Drew said. ‘Next time I shall be waiting for him. I intend to follow the packhorses and see where they go—and then I shall have him!’

‘If the smugglers don’t see you first,’ Robbie cautioned. ‘It’s madness to try this on your own, Captain. You should have asked some of your friends to help you.’

‘I thought my ill health was a better cover,’ Drew said. ‘But I might send a letter to Hal Beverley, ask him if he is game for a lark—that should fetch him.’

‘Aye, no doubt,’ Robbie replied. ‘He was as wild as you were in the old days, Captain, and that is saying something. Send for him if you wish, but ask Captain Harcourt—or Lord Harcourt, as I should say now—to come with him. Four of us will do better than three—and I’ll wager that he is as bored with his life as you are. Besides, of the lot of you, he was the most sober…’

‘Perhaps,’ Drew agreed. Harcourt and Drew had been survivors on that day, when they were ambushed. ‘Yes, I shall write to both Hal and Harcourt—but I doubt that Beverley will come. He has responsibilities enough these days. Hal’s father demanded he sold out after his brother was killed. I have not seen anything of him since he came home some months back.’

‘No doubt he has duties, as you do, my lord,’ Robbie said with a disapproving look. ‘A man in your position has much to lose—and well you know it! A fine scandal there would be if it were known you were here under a false name. People would be bound to think the worst.’

‘I know that you think me a fool to come here,’ Drew said and grinned at him. ‘But it amuses me, Robbie—and it was a favour to Jack…’

‘And he saved your life at Salamanca,’ Robbie said. ‘You will go your own way as usual, Captain—but do not take too many risks. You should not forget that others depend on you…’

‘I do not forget,’ Drew replied and frowned, for he was neglecting his duty. ‘But I have an agent who prefers a free hand with the estate, and for a while he shall have it. I promise you that I shall take no more risks than need be.’

Robbie’s dour look spoke volumes, but he said no more.

Drew smiled as he left the house. He was remembering better times. They had indeed been a wild bunch in those days, carousing half the night, living life to the full…perhaps it was merely companionship that he missed.

Suddenly she was there in his head, a beautiful girl with sea-green eyes and spun-gold hair. He frowned as he recalled the girl who had called to him from the top of the cliffs as he climbed down to investigate what was going on in the cove. He had been annoyed that anyone was there, because she might have alerted the men in the boat that he was there, and it was only later that he had wondered if she was the beauty from the coach. Surely it was his imagination—it was unlikely that she would be here, so far from anywhere. A girl like that should be mixing in high society, chancing her luck in the marriage mart—unless she was already a wife? Yet something told him she was as innocent as she looked…and therefore far beyond him. A man like Drew Beck had nothing to do with innocent young ladies, however beautiful and spirited they might be.

Drew’s eyes were shadowed with memories. War had sent him mad—the heat, the pain and the sheer horror of seeing those you loved as brothers fall into the dust and die slowly of fever or the gangrene that ate into neglected wounds. Yet the loss of comrades had driven him on, making him heedless of his own life, earning him several mentions in dispatches, besides a reputation for being fearless. He had been given medals and honours, all of which lay forgotten in a drawer, shut away with memories that had been too painful to remember.

Drew tasted the bitterness in his mouth and then thrust his thoughts away. It was over. He was no longer a soldier, but a man of consequence and wealth, his uncle’s death making him responsible for more people than he could remember. Robbie was right when he said that he owed them a duty of care—but just this once he was going to court danger, to taste the spice of adventure again. And afterwards? Drew frowned. If he still lived, it would be time to settle down and take the wife his relatives and friends told him it was his duty to marry so that he could produce an heir…but he would choose a woman who understood what he needed, what kind of a man he was…a widow who would not demand the things he could not give.

Marianne was pleased as she left the receiving office that morning. It was situated in a building close to the inn, which was a busy place with coaches and carriages coming and going. She had left her letters for Mama, Jo and Lucy with the man who attended to such things, and been given three letters in return. Two were for Lady Edgeworthy and the other was for her from her sister Jo. She wondered what had caused Jo to spend some sixpences to write to her so soon and broke the seal in haste.

My dearest sister, Jo had scrawled, I write to tell you that Aunt Wainwright has decided that I shall go with her to Bath next month. As you know, I had hoped that she would change her mind, but nothing else will do for her. I am to go to the Hall later today, where I am to be fitted for a new wardrobe. It appears that my aunt thinks I have nothing but rags and must be dressed properly so that I shall not shame her. How shall I bear it? I dare say we shall be at odds within a week, but I must try to remember what you andMama have told me and behave as I ought. Enough of my troubles! Do write and tell me all your news, dearest. Your loving sister, Jo.

Marianne was re-reading her letter as she walked along the path. She needed to fetch some trifles from the small village shop, which sold all manner of things a lady might need, including embroidery silks, ink and stationery, as well as acting as a small lending library. For the sake of a few pennies it was possible to borrow the works of various poets and popular authors. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she did not see the gentleman walking towards her until they almost collided.

‘Be careful, mistress,’ he warned, reaching out to steady her as she tripped over him. ‘I value my boots—they are my best and I may never find another pair to equal their comfort.’

Marianne looked down at his boots, which were black and long with pale buff cuffs at the top and which looked as if they had seen better days. She raised her inquiring gaze to his face, and felt a little jolt as she looked into his eyes. They were the colour of bluebells and his hair had the sheen of a raven’s wing, cut short, as was the prevailing fashion. This was the man she had seen climbing down to the cove that day the French ship was in the bay. She had seen him several times since that morning as she walked about the estate, but always at a distance. She was sure now that he was also the man who had manoeuvred Lady Forester’s damaged coach to the side of the road. Up close he was so large and powerful that he made her breath catch in her throat. His coat fitted superbly to broad shoulders and his breeches had been cut by a master tailor to cling like a second skin, though they, too, had seen better days. A gentleman, then, but perhaps down on his luck?

‘Forgive me, sir,’ Marianne said. ‘I was reading my letter and I should not have been. I did not see you. I hope I did not tread too hard upon your toes?’

‘I dare say I shall live,’ Drew said and frowned. It was the beauty from the coach. His eyes had not deceived him that day on the cliffs, and he had glimpsed her as he walked about the estate, but had made no attempt to approach her, because it was best that he should not. The fewer people who knew he was here the better. ‘I should have seen what was happening and stood aside. It was my fault.’

‘Oh, no, you are too generous,’ Marianne said. ‘The letter is from my sister, you see…’

She laughed, softly, huskily, sending such a wave of hot desire rushing through him that he was shocked. He did not know her or anything about her, had seen her only once close to before, and yet somehow she had implanted herself into his mind, become a part of his dreams, for he had dreamed of her more than once, ridiculous as that was! Standing so close that he could smell a delightful perfume, which he imagined was uniquely hers, he was aware that she was an extremely desirable woman. He was conscious of a burning need in his loins, which made him draw back, because he was thinking the impossible.

She was speaking again. He crushed the rising need she aroused, bringing his thoughts back to what she was saying.

‘I am entirely at fault. But I believe I have seen you…the other day at the top of the cliffs. I thought you might be my great-aunt’s tenant? At Cliff House…’

‘You are staying with Lady Edgeworthy? I thought she lived alone with a companion?’ Drew frowned, his mind instantly alert, for the presence of a girl like this at the house might complicate matters, and not only because of the effect she had on his senses. ‘For how long, may one inquire?’

‘I have no idea,’ Marianne said. ‘For as long as my aunt needs me, I think.’

‘I see…’ He nodded his head. He must walk on! This would not do. He had no place in his life for dalliance with a girl like this! ‘I am glad to have met you. Good morning, mistress.’ He tipped his hat to her and moved on, frowning at his thoughts. If she perchance knew him, which was not impossible, for she obviously had good connections…she might reveal his true identity and that would be the end of all his hopes of remaining a shadow in the background. Besides, he needed all his wits about him, and he wanted no distractions in the shape of a girl like that! Drew knew his chances of trapping the French spy and the English traitor were slim, and would vanish into the mist if he became an object of interest to the community. Should his real name be known, he would be inundated with visitors and invitations, as he had been at Marlbeck before he made his escape—and that was the last thing he needed!

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