Company Of Rogues: A Shocking Delight Part 3

"It's clear a bit inland, my lord, and we were careful."

"Glad to hear it. However, I was about to retire. What do you want?" It wasn't in his nature to be discourteous, but here he must play the arrogant earl.

"Only to inform you, my lord, as a courtesy. If the men from Dragon's Cove return with laden boats, we'll arrest them."

"As is your duty."

"Precisely, my lord."

After a moment, David said, "Be about it, then," as if he couldn't imagine why the Preventive officer was lingering.

Lloyd's lips tightened, but he bowed and stalked out, his men trailing.

"Don't you feel some compa.s.sion for him?" Nicholas asked.

"No. He has a job to do, but he would dearly like to see us all hang, especially Captain Drake. He suspects that's me, but isn't sure. If he catches me red-handed, my being the earl would not deter him."

"Nor should it."

"Turning republican? There has to be some advantage to my having the t.i.tle. But we'll debate that later. For now, I'm off. If I do end up in jail, I hope your ingenuity can get me out."

"So do I."

David went to his bedroom and took out the dark shirt and pantaloons he wore over his clothes for these ventures. They were made of cotton and dyed in a mottled way that would help him hide in shadows, but of thin cloth so he could bundle them small and hide them. He rubbed soot from the chimney over his face, then pulled on dark leather gloves and a dark cap over his hair.

He didn't take a pistol. If it came to that the game was up, and he wanted no deaths. He did carry a sharp knife in a sheath. You never knew when that might be needed.

He left the Crag by the small room, meeting the four fleet-footed men Aaron had chosen. Each carried a load of wicker-and-rope crab pots, with a long climbing rope coiled around them. David didn't take any, for he needed to make the most speed. Most of the men could escape up the cliffs by rope, but the boats needed explanation. Putting down crab pots would provide that.

They set off to run the three miles through the misty dark along cliff tops to Bradhole Cove, which was inaccessible without climbing aids since a landslip had wiped out the path leading down to the water. That and a cave had made it a good place to hide the brandy, tea, and gin brought in from France at the dark time of the moon. The cove would become a trap, however, if the wind blew the mist away and a prowling navy vessel spotted them.

But for now, the quiet and the mist told David the sea was calm. Sails would be useless, but it would be easy rowing for the Dragon's Horde men. They could be there already.

He had to arrive before disaster happened.

Even shrouded in mist, the sea and coastline held no mysteries for the men of Dragon's Cove; they were all fishermen in their honest hours. The smugglers had quickly reached the small cove, with its sandy beach and its cave, which was set high enough to stay dry in all but the worst high-tide storms.

Their plan was to slip in, slip out, and carry the contraband back to Dragon's Cove, where it would disappear into secret bas.e.m.e.nt and attic sections and holes in the ground. As soon as Lloyd was busy elsewhere, they'd move it inland to make a fine profit for the Horde.

Of course, Captain Drake had forbidden them to act without his word, but he was young, the new captain, and too cautious. Came of being raised as gentry by his mother's family.

They dragged the boats up the sand and then left one man with each vessel. The rest of the gang scurried like ants up the rocky slope to the gaping cave, then slipped and slid back down with loads on their backs.

Before too long, the lookout yipped a warning. All the men looked around. Some swore. A light breeze had sprung up and was tearing holes in the misty veil. The moon was still covered by cloud, but some light escaped to touch silver ripples on the black water.

And out in the channel the keen-eyed ones could see a d.a.m.ned navy ship.

"They can't see us," growled Saul Applin. "Carry on."

"Perhaps we should take off with what we've got," Bill Carter said nervously. "We can come back."

"One more load each and we're done. Get moving!"

They moved. Saul Applin was a big man with big fists, so no one complained, but some were beginning to regret agreeing to this. Captain Drake had said to wait, that the right time would come. His second-in-command, Aaron Bartlett, had tried to stop them. Saul had knocked him out.

Times were hard. They all needed money.

But perhaps they should have obeyed Captain Drake. In fact, now that time and labor had sobered them, most worried about what the captain would have to say. Especially if they got caught and lost the whole cargo.

They hurried. One man slipped, tumbling down the slope, a keg of gin smashing to seep into the sand, the smell sharp on the air. The men in the boats squinted at the ship, trying to detect any sign that they'd been seen.

But then there was another sound.

Someone above?

The men carried on with the loading, but some looked up. Was Lloyd up there, too? Not too bad if he was. By sea, they could outpace him back to Dragon's Cove.

But now someone was coming down the cliff by rope, hand over hand, nimbly kicking off the chalk. His clothes were dark, his face smudged with soot, but they knew him.

The captain was here.

Every man hunched, as if he could make himself smaller, even shrink away.

They expected a tongue-lashing, but the crisp voice said, "Lloyd's in the village, waiting for you. Now the mist's cleared, he'll signal the navy ship to come in closer."

"Sorry, cap'n," someone muttered.

The apology was ignored. "Get the goods back in the cave. Crab pots are coming down. Some of you will go out to put them down, about your honest business. The rest come back up the cliff with me. More ropes are dropping."

"It's all loaded," Saul protested. "We can-"

The captain's gloved fist slammed into Saul's jaw.

Saul staggered, but rallied to swing for the captain's gut. He managed a glancing blow but the captain used the movement to duck and turn, then land a two-fisted blow to Saul's back that made him grunt.

"Get to it!" he snapped to the watching men, before kicking Saul's knee so he went down. Grabbing Saul's shirt, the captain said, "Still think you can lead the Horde, Saul?"

Saul spat blood. "Mel would've-"

The raised fist silenced him. "Mel got caught and took good men to Botany Bay with him. You're coming up the cliff with me."

"I can't," the man whined, eyes going wide. He was known to be afraid of heights.

"Then you'll stay in the cave until someone has time to collect you by sea."

David stood, rubbing his knuckles, watching his men haul the contraband back up to the cave. More ropes had slithered down, with crab pots tied to the end.

He glanced down at Saul. "What are you lying about for? Get the crab pots and take them to the boats."

Saul pushed to his feet, swaying slightly, fingering his face, glowering. He obeyed, however.

Soon the goods were back in the cave and the crab pots were stowed. The boats were shoved off, two men in each. No one could be arrested for taking crab pots out at night.

Four ropes were dangling down the cliff, and the nimbler men had stayed behind. Plus Saul. David would dearly love to get rid of the troublemaker, but he was a Dragon's Cove man and his family went back further than David's. He was Captain Drake's to take care of, and the Earl of Wyvern's, too.

He looked around once more to be sure he'd not overlooked anything. "Smooth the sand," he told Saul, then grabbed the remaining rope to climb up.

They made a sport of this in Dragon's Cove. David was too big a man to win at it, but it was easy work for him. Saul was too beefy by far, and had his fear as well.

Aaron wasn't a good runner, but he'd arrived at the cliff top to take command there. He'd already sent the other men off, to slip in ones and twos back to their homes. Lloyd was watching for the returning boats, not for men on land.

He gave David a hand to haul him up onto the gra.s.sy top. "All right?"

"As right as it can be."

"Saul's a menace."

"What do you want me to do? Hang him for insubordination?"

"Nay, but perhaps a storm'll come up and drown him."

"Leaving a widow and four fatherless children."

"You can't save 'em all, Davy."

Aaron was a cousin on David's Clyst side and was ent.i.tled to use the fond name when they were alone together.

"I can try. I can do no other. Especially not now."

"Now you're the earl."

"Now I'm the earl. Off with you. We'll hold a meeting tomorrow."

"And many'll not sleep well at the thought of it. Go carefully, lad."

"And you. I can't afford to lose you."

Aaron was the most experienced of all the Dragon's Horde's council and a trustworthy man, but he struggled with numbers. He couldn't run the business side of the Horde.

They clasped hands, and Aaron walked away, soon to be out of sight. David took a moment to sense the air again, seeking anything out of the ordinary that could be trouble.

All was quiet, and the fickle mist was drifting back. He was glad it had cleared for a while. If this rebellious enterprise had gone well, the Horde would have become even more difficult to control. Though he'd spent time with his father and taken part in smuggling runs for the thrill of it, he'd not been raised to be Captain Drake. Mel had wanted him to be as much of a gentleman as was possible.

He was lucky to have the build to impress most men, but in the past eighteen months he'd had to learn to command, by words if possible, but by violence if necessary. Sometimes he worried about what he was becoming. But he had no choice.

If he didn't run the Horde, people like Saul Applin would bully their way in and carry everyone in the area into disaster.

He stripped off the black overclothes and stashed them beneath a scrubby bush, weighed down by a stone. He took an oilcloth bag out of his pocket and used the wet cloth it contained to clean his face. He took off his gloves, which were stained with Saul's blood, and put them with the clothes. His knuckles were sore and bruised, but they'd show no damage to a casual eye. Gloves kept his hands and nails in a suitable state for an earl.

A reluctant earl, and a reluctant Captain Drake.

Once, he'd been a free and happy man.

Not much more than a year ago.

He set off to walk back to the Crag. No real danger in that. An earl could go for a walk on a misty night if he wanted to. If he needed an explanation for eccentric behavior, the blood of the mad earls of Wyvern ran in his veins.

In theory at least.

He returned to the Crag undetected, and found Nicholas waiting in the lair.

"All safe?"

"No thanks to those idiots. As Aaron said, though, some were driven by need. Smuggling's gone on here for generations, but the decades of war saw it flourish, so other work's been neglected. The Mad Earl did nothing to build up agriculture, fishing, and trades, and in my time as estate manager I could achieve little when he was draining every penny possible for his mad schemes. I'm working on improving things now, but I need money in the meantime. Let's hope Papa Potter approves my businesslike approach."

"What of Miss Potter? Doesn't she get her say?"

"Favoring the rights of women again? Judging by my experiences, she'll trip over her feet in the rush to agree. My necessary visits to London have been hair-raising. I appreciate how a fox must feel during a hunt."

"She's a City woman, however, not a tonnish one."

"According to Polyphant, they're even worse, all dreaming of becoming my lady. He found ways to observe the most promising highly dowered candidates and Miss Potter showed no interest in worthy occupations. She was seen shopping, and strolling about with friends, doubtless flirting with men. She was seen in a bookshop with said friends, but they only perused the shelves of gothic novels."

"Perhaps she'll find Crag Wyvern romantic."

"Then I hope it distracts her so she won't wonder why her husband is often absent on moonless nights."

"You hope to marry a fool?"

"With all my heart."

Chapter 3.

Lucy allowed herself only a week to prepare for her adventure, and a week seemed too long. Mrs. Johnson was already invading daily and even asking Lucy's opinion on the changes to be made. Perhaps she thought that a kindness, but it was torture.

The wedding was set for one month hence and Mrs. Johnson also tried to involve Lucy in those plans. All Lucy could do was be busy elsewhere as much as possible, and preparing for her fashionable adventure provided an excuse.

The day after her father's devastating news she traveled to the west end of London to talk to her aunt about the plan. On the journey she studied the women strolling down fashionable streets and saw that the styles of their dresses were different, even from the newest ones in the City.