Fenella Miller by A Dissembler

behind them.
    Marianne could sense the fear in the two young men and wondered at it. Then she remembered the snatch of conversation she had overheard the previous night and thought that maybe she understood the reason for their anxiety.
    The rumbling growls of the four dogs were the only sounds in the wood. Even the birds were silent. Emily instinctively reached out and clutched Marianne’s hand for reassurance. Arabella pressed close to her other side. All three stared up the path, waiting to see who, or what, would emerge.
    From the gloom, three shadowy figures took shape, one leading a laden donkey. The first, obviously the leader, was a stocky man in his thirties, his face scarred by pox marks, his clothes rough, and a dirty kerchief tied around his neck. The following two were equally filthy and all shared a shifty look. The three men halted a distance away, muttering to each other, too softly to be overheard, but their stance was menacing. Charles reacted.
    ‘You must go. Edward, take the girls and run—do not stop until you reach the park. Go. Now.’
    Edward didn’t argue. He turned and grabbing Emily’s free hand jerked her forward. ‘Come, they could mean us harm. You heard Charles. Run!’
    They needed no further urging and, with skirts held high, the girls raced after Edward, not stopping until they emerged into the sunlight and could see the stile leading into Frating Park. They scrambled over, and Marianne heard her gown tear as she caught it on a briar, but she didn’t pause to examine the damage. She hurried on, following Edward, until he finally stopped in sight of the Hall. They were exhausted and gasping for breath after the long run. Edward stared anxiously down the path.
    ‘Where is Charles, Edward? Why did he not come with us?’ Marianne asked.
    ‘The dogs will be a deterrent. Charles will keep them between the men and us as long as he can. Don’t fret, he will follow soon enough, he’s not stupid. The odds are too great to stay for a fight.’
    Here, in the sunshine, their flight began to seem an overreaction. Arabella and Emily had sunk, worn out by their unaccustomed activity, to the grass and were comforting each other with pats and kisses.
    ‘Who were those men, Edward? Why would they wish to do us harm?’ Marianne got no reply.
    Edward was watching the path but she felt him relax as the first of the dogs loped into sight.
    ‘I beg your pardon, I was not paying attention, what did you say, Marianne?’
    ‘I asked who those men were and why they would wish to harm us. We were no threat to them, surely?’
    ‘They were smugglers, did you not see the donkey—it was loaded with contraband.’
    ‘Why were they out in daylight? I thought such men worked at night.’
    ‘That wood is not used by the locals. It is well known to be a smuggler’s route to Thorrington Creek and so they avoid it. I suppose those men did not expect to see us there, even in daylight.’
    ‘If that is so, then why did you take us there for a picnic?’
    Edward flushed. ‘It’s part of Frating Hall. We can go where we please; it is our land, after all. And Charles could not have anticipated meeting those villains. I daresay they pass that way once a month. It was just bad luck all round.’
    Before Marianne could answer she saw Charles and the three dogs jogging towards them. He waved and smiled no sign of his previous fear apparent. He joined them and dropped down to the grass to speak to the girls who were sitting quietly on the grass.
    ‘That was unfortunate. I hope those men didn’t scare you unduly. I thought it best to run, although you were in no real danger. They were as surprised to see us as we were them.’
    ‘My dress is ruined and I am quite worn out. Please don’t suggest a picnic to me again, Charles—for I shall not come,’ Lady Arabella replied pettishly.
    He smiled and sprung up. He offered his hand and pulled first Lady Arabella, and then Emily, to their feet. He spoke to Marianne, his