me?”
“But of course!” he answered. “You told me you believed in prayer. Surely you have prayed about this?”
“I have prayed,” she answered. “I have prayed and prayed, sometimes nearly all night, but there seems to be – no answer.”
“Then go on praying,” Lord Cheriton said. “I have a feeling that the answer might come when you least expect it.”
“I – hope so,” she said doubtfully. “Oh, I hope you are right!”
She looked up at him, their eyes met, and Lord Cheriton knew she was trying to believe him, trying almost to draw strength from the firmness with which he had spoken.
Because she looked so fragile and insubstantial and he was beginning to realise exactly what she was up against, he found himself wanting to protect her.
He wanted to take her away from something that he knew was not only menacing but far more dangerous than ever his father had been.
Chapter Three
Handing Lord Cheriton a newly starched and pressed white cravat, Nickolls said,
“I hear, sir, that this house belongs to a Lord Cheriton. Can there be another Lord Cheriton?”
Lord Cheriton paused before he answered,
“I believe so, Nickolls, but it is of the utmost importance, as you realise, that we should have no knowledge of the name and that it means nothing to us.”
“Of course, sir. But they were talking in the kitchen and saying how strange and almost crazy the gentleman were before he died.”
“I am not interested, Nickolls,” Lord Cheriton said firmly. “What concerns us at the moment is, as you know, the smugglers in the neighbourhood. Have you heard anything of interest?”
“There’s a great deal going on, sir, that’s difficult to put a finger on, but there’s no doubt they’re all frightened, scared stiff, as you might say, and they’ll certainly not open their mouths to a stranger.”
“That is what I thought,” Lord Cheriton said. “Is there any chance of your getting a look at the cellars?”
“Funny you should say that, sir. Miss Wivina said she was going down to the cellars to fetch a bottle of claret for your dinner tonight, and when I offers to help she refused in a manner which made me feel she thought I was prying.”
Remembering the huge cellars that existed under the house, Lord Cheriton had thought they would be too good a hiding place for contraband to be neglected, though he knew that where possible the smugglers got their goods well away as soon as they were brought ashore.
With little to fear from the Riding Officers or the Coast Guards, it would be easier to take a cargo straight to its destination than to store it locally.
Aloud he said,
“Be very careful not to arouse suspicion in anyone’s mind, Nickolls, but just keep your eyes open.
“I’m doing that, sir.”
Lord Cheriton looked at himself in the mirror and thought that, considering he and Nickolls had carried everything they needed in a roll at the back of their saddles and in the capacious pockets of the saddles themselves, he looked surprisingly well dressed.
His tight-fitting champagne-coloured pantaloons and cutaway coat became him well, as did the high white cravat contrasting with his sunburnt skin.
‘I look more like a Beau than a soldier,’ he thought.
At the same time, it was with a sense of amusement that he realised he could never get away from his resemblance to a leopard, and his eyes had the same steely glitter as the animal had when stalking its prey.
As he went slowly down the stairs, he wondered what it would be like if he returned to Larks Hall and lived there in the same style as his father and grandfather had done.
Then there had been half a dozen tall footmen in the Cheriton livery in the hall and many housemaids in mob caps to keep everything clean and polished.
When his mother was alive, there had been carriages of friends arriving for dinner, the women exquisite in their full skirts, the men extremely decorative in their wigs and knee-breeches.
He walked into the
“But of course!” he answered. “You told me you believed in prayer. Surely you have prayed about this?”
“I have prayed,” she answered. “I have prayed and prayed, sometimes nearly all night, but there seems to be – no answer.”
“Then go on praying,” Lord Cheriton said. “I have a feeling that the answer might come when you least expect it.”
“I – hope so,” she said doubtfully. “Oh, I hope you are right!”
She looked up at him, their eyes met, and Lord Cheriton knew she was trying to believe him, trying almost to draw strength from the firmness with which he had spoken.
Because she looked so fragile and insubstantial and he was beginning to realise exactly what she was up against, he found himself wanting to protect her.
He wanted to take her away from something that he knew was not only menacing but far more dangerous than ever his father had been.
Chapter Three
Handing Lord Cheriton a newly starched and pressed white cravat, Nickolls said,
“I hear, sir, that this house belongs to a Lord Cheriton. Can there be another Lord Cheriton?”
Lord Cheriton paused before he answered,
“I believe so, Nickolls, but it is of the utmost importance, as you realise, that we should have no knowledge of the name and that it means nothing to us.”
“Of course, sir. But they were talking in the kitchen and saying how strange and almost crazy the gentleman were before he died.”
“I am not interested, Nickolls,” Lord Cheriton said firmly. “What concerns us at the moment is, as you know, the smugglers in the neighbourhood. Have you heard anything of interest?”
“There’s a great deal going on, sir, that’s difficult to put a finger on, but there’s no doubt they’re all frightened, scared stiff, as you might say, and they’ll certainly not open their mouths to a stranger.”
“That is what I thought,” Lord Cheriton said. “Is there any chance of your getting a look at the cellars?”
“Funny you should say that, sir. Miss Wivina said she was going down to the cellars to fetch a bottle of claret for your dinner tonight, and when I offers to help she refused in a manner which made me feel she thought I was prying.”
Remembering the huge cellars that existed under the house, Lord Cheriton had thought they would be too good a hiding place for contraband to be neglected, though he knew that where possible the smugglers got their goods well away as soon as they were brought ashore.
With little to fear from the Riding Officers or the Coast Guards, it would be easier to take a cargo straight to its destination than to store it locally.
Aloud he said,
“Be very careful not to arouse suspicion in anyone’s mind, Nickolls, but just keep your eyes open.
“I’m doing that, sir.”
Lord Cheriton looked at himself in the mirror and thought that, considering he and Nickolls had carried everything they needed in a roll at the back of their saddles and in the capacious pockets of the saddles themselves, he looked surprisingly well dressed.
His tight-fitting champagne-coloured pantaloons and cutaway coat became him well, as did the high white cravat contrasting with his sunburnt skin.
‘I look more like a Beau than a soldier,’ he thought.
At the same time, it was with a sense of amusement that he realised he could never get away from his resemblance to a leopard, and his eyes had the same steely glitter as the animal had when stalking its prey.
As he went slowly down the stairs, he wondered what it would be like if he returned to Larks Hall and lived there in the same style as his father and grandfather had done.
Then there had been half a dozen tall footmen in the Cheriton livery in the hall and many housemaids in mob caps to keep everything clean and polished.
When his mother was alive, there had been carriages of friends arriving for dinner, the women exquisite in their full skirts, the men extremely decorative in their wigs and knee-breeches.
He walked into the
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