Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (15 page)

“Just so.”

“But what part do you play?”

“I … ah … the fact is that I am expected to discover the plotters and unhinge their plot before the Duke arrives in Cornwall.”

“Is that all?”

He grinned. “I own, I had expected to make more progress than I have. I managed rather quickly to insinuate myself into the group most likely to be party to useful information. Once I discovered that the smugglers and wreckers on the south coast of Cornwall are not only organized but in league with their French equivalents, I knew I was on the right track. I am still certain I’m looking in the right place, but so far I’ve learned little other than that they thumb their noses at the authorities and are, to a man, strongly opposed to any civilian police force in England. I suppose, however, that you don’t know much about the Metropolitan Police Bill that Robert Peel is attempting to pass through Parliament.”

“Oh, but I do! I am an avid reader of the London
Times,
sir, although Cousin Alfred does not approve of females reading anything in the newspapers other than what he chooses to read aloud to them. At all events, I have found the Parliamentary debates on the police bill fascinating. I know it has encountered many delays, and that Mr. Peel means to recommit it early next week. But that bill affects only London, so I do not see how it can upset men in Cornwall.”

“They know that what begins in London will soon spread throughout the land. According to the Duke, that is indeed their plan for the future.”

“Then I can understand why Cornishmen would oppose it. At present, when it appears to the Lloyd’s agents or to customs riders that too much smuggling or too many wrecks have occurred in a given area, they call in the military, especially when goods liable to duty are involved. That slows things down for a while, but then the soldiers go away again, and the gangs return to business. It is still hard to convict them in a Cornish court, you see. Some landowners, like my grandfather, changed things a little when they refused to support the plundering and began training men to rescue ships, cargo, and crews. Juries still won’t convict, but magistrates will now, and penalties can be severe. No doubt, the coastal gangs fear that with a sustained civilian police presence, they will find it far more difficult to enjoy the success they now enjoy.”

“That’s it, of course.” He smiled at her. “I did not expect you to know so much about it. Most females of my acquaintance have no interest in such matters.”

“Most females,” Charley retorted, “are trained from birth to take no interest in such things. My Great-Aunt Ophelia believes that men purposely keep women from reading about and understanding important issues. She says men are afraid that women will prove to be as intelligent and capable of discussing them as they are themselves, that given the slightest opportunity, women could provide intelligent solutions to many of our problems, and might even insist upon having a say in our government.”

He chuckled. “I hadn’t thought about that, but your great-aunt may well be right. We’ve had queens who were far more capable of running this country than many of our kings, certainly.”

She regarded him with no little amazement, unaccustomed to hearing such amiable responses to opinions that others were quick to call radical.

He returned her look, his lips twitching almost as if he were going to smile, but there was no humor in his tone when he said, “I need not tell you that I am placing my life in your hands by being so frank with you.”

“I will try to be worthy of your trust,” she said.

“I’m not worried about that, but I could scarcely blame you if you refused to trust me. I have, after all, proven myself capable of deception merely by the roles I play. Such deceit does not sit well with most upright British citizens.”

“Good mercy, I quite understand that you cannot walk bang up to a smuggler and ask him if he is plotting to kill the Duke of Wellington.”

“No, I can’t do that,” he said, smiling. “In fact, I have blotted my copybook as it is, because my intervention on the beach that day caused some of them to question my loyalty. I introduced myself to them, you see, as a French smuggler with an unsavory reputation. Stepping in and then riding off with you and Letty undermined that position, I’m afraid.”

“Are you in danger?”

“Perhaps. At all events, I decided to run this rig. No one will suspect a claimant to the St. Merryn earldom of belonging to the coastal gang, and no gang member will look for Jean Matois at Tuscombe Park. With luck, I can play both roles, manage to stay alive, and gather twice as much information.”

Charley said, “Letty suspected you weren’t what you seemed that first night, you know. She said Matois means cunning, like a fox. And in the course of her conversation with you, she said you spoke drawing-room French as easily as you spoke the argot of the streets.”

He grimaced. “That child wants a keeper, but it certainly explains why she kept calling me
sir.
I hoped it was just that she was an exceedingly polite youngster. What are her parents about to let her learn so much at such a tender age?”

“They believe in teaching her all she can learn,” Charley said. “However, from what she said about her father’s reaction to some of her less tasteful French vocabulary, I collect that even they are not aware of the depth of her knowledge.”

He shook his head. “I’d already met with difficulty maintaining the character of Jean Matois here in England. It was not hard in France, because I associated generally with men of the lower classes. Here I find myself slipping into old language patterns all too easily. I have only to hear proper English spoken to begin speaking it myself. That’s a very dangerous thing in my line of work.”

“Was the Duke also threatened in France?” Charley asked.

He looked confused.

“You said it was not so hard to play your role there,” she reminded him.

He hesitated, then said glibly, “He was the supreme commander, after all. He was threatened many times. Would you like to show me the stables now? We did say we would not be away too long. I don’t want Rockland to call me out for spending too much time with his betrothed.”

“He won’t. Will you let me help you?”

“In what way?”

“At least you did not instantly deny that there is any way I can,” she said with a wry smile. “I have lived here all my life, you know, and I am acquainted with nearly everyone. People will tell me things, I’m sure, that they would not tell a stranger. It will be easy to bring up the cathedral consecration, and the Duke’s visit, because everyone is undoubtedly talking about those things.”

“They certainly are, although no one has mentioned an assassination.”

“Of course not. I daresay that when all is said and done, you will find the warning was no more than a prank. Everyone is excited about the consecration, because it means the return to Cornwall of a set of famous sacred vessels removed from a disestablished abbey during the Reformation. That is why the Duke is taking part. He will present the vessels, as a gift from the whole nation, in the historic Seraphim Coffer, an ancient Cornish chest said to date to the twelfth century. Mr. James Gabriel, the mayor of Lostwithiel, is refurbishing the coffer for the occasion.”

“The mayor?”

“He was thought to be the best person, you see. The chest was discovered in Lostwithiel, and Mr. Gabriel’s late father was the clockmaker there. He did marvelous cabinetwork and trained his son to follow his trade. Although Mr. Gabriel has moved up in the world and is likely, my grandfather said, to be granted a knighthood for his work with the Methodists to aid miners in Cornwall and to oppose the coastal gangs, he is thought to be nearly as skilled at cabinetry as his father was.”

“Sounds like a noble fellow,” Antony said. “No doubt he’ll marry well and give up trade altogether.”

She chuckled. “He is a widower, I believe, but you may be right. He joined the family for luncheon the day of the wreck. I was not present at the time, but Letty said he made sheep’s eyes at Elizabeth. I don’t think Alfred likes him much, however.”

“He wouldn’t. From what I’ve seen of our Alfred, he will seek a bigger fish than your Mr. Gabriel for his sister.”

“Well, Mr. Gabriel seems to be a fine man, and he will be distressed if anything happens to the Duke in Cornwall. Have you discovered
any
clues to the plotters?”

“Nothing specific, though I do suspect that more than one faction is involved. This coastal gang—some members of which you have been privileged to meet—has numerous connections in France, for one thing.”

“I can understand why the French might hate the Duke. He defeated their emperor, after all. But I don’t see why good Cornishmen would plot against him.”

“Annoyance over Boney’s defeat lingers in France because Wellington put an end to the most lucrative period the French smugglers had ever known. I daresay the same feeling pervades much of Cornwall. One thing few people realize is that the commodity most frequently smuggled to France was English gold. With English money paid for duty-free goods the French bought guns to shoot English soldiers.”

“Men of Cornwall would never have done that!”

“I’m afraid they did,” he said. “Each time a Cornish smuggler helped land French lace, brandy, and other smuggled goods, a Frenchman got paid for them. It would be a bit different if they had bartered with Cornish cream or wool, but they did not. Even now, smugglers bring more into the country than they take out. They say they smuggle or wreck because of unfair duties, poverty, or an uncaring government. They blame anyone but themselves. Good English money still goes to the Continent. Wellington, in opposing them, may have set himself up as a target.”

“That’s dreadful,” Charley said, “but wouldn’t the Duke be safe with a proper escort? Surely a large military unit would deter plotters and protect him completely.”

“Not against a truly determined effort,” he said. “In any case, such an escort is something he wants to avoid. If even a whisper of this plot reaches the public ear, the military will
have
to be called in. Wellington is the nation’s greatest living hero, cherished by all. His address at Apsley House is Number One London, you know.”

“To match his status in every heart in Britain,” Charley said. “I read that, but he is not living at Apsley House just now.”

“He is putting up at Number Ten Downing Street till alterations are completed at Apsley House. To return to the matter of the military, however, he believes they are the last force to be charged with keeping peace. Unfortunate incidents have occurred in the past when a military force tried to restore peace to a community.”

“Peterloo.”

He smiled. “Just so. That’s why he and Peel want civilian police. The problem, of course, is that most people can’t imagine how an unarmed constabulary could keep the peace. But the Duke and Robert Peel believe that if they can establish an example in London, they’ll soon bring people around to their way of thinking.”

Charley would have liked to continue the discussion, for she found not only the topic to be fascinating, but her companion as well. At that moment, however, they realized they were being hailed from behind. Turning, she saw Elizabeth hurrying along the path, waving at them.

They walked toward her, and when they were within earshot, she said, “Mr. Gabriel has called, and dearest Alfred was kind enough to invite him to stay and dine with us. He—Alfred, that is—sent me to tell you that he is having dinner set forward an hour to accommodate him—Mr. Gabriel, that is. Alfred thought you would both want to come inside at once to change your attire. Oh, and Cousin Charlotte, Alfred asked if you would kindly inform Cousin Letitia that, since we are dining in company, she must take her dinner in the nursery with the other children.”

“I’ll tell her,” Charley said. The request was reasonable, although she knew Letty would be disappointed not to dine with Sir Antony.

Sir Antony said haughtily, “I must say, Miss Elizabeth, I quite look forward to meeting this Gabriel chap. Sounds like quite a noble fellow to me.”

“Noble?” She wrinkled her brow. “He has been the mayor of Lostwithiel for some months now, sir, but I do not believe he is a nobleman.”

Sir Antony avoided Charley’s eye as he said cheerfully, “Nonetheless, a fascinating chap, I daresay. Said to be devilish interested in everyone’s welfare.”

“Oh, yes, I am sure you must be right, Sir Antony.” Elizabeth smiled at him. “Mr. Gabriel seems very well spoken and interested in many things, which one quite understands, for without his civic interests, one fears he would lead a lonely life, poor man. His wife died many years ago, you see, and his daughter has moved to London. You must forgive me if I did not quite understand you at first. Like so many other women, I can never understand more than half of what you gentlemen talk about.”

Charley struggled to suppress a retort and thought she had full command of her countenance. Thus, she was disconcerted to meet a steady look from Sir Antony.

Holding her gaze, he said blandly, “Miss Elizabeth, I believe Miss Charlotte has something of a private nature to say to you. Therefore, if you will excuse me, I’ll just go on ahead and find someone to show me to my room.”

S
EETHING WITH INDIGNATION AND
trying her best to conceal it, Charley watched Sir Antony stride toward the house. His figure was as admirable from the rear as from any other angle, she noted grimly, but just then she wanted to smack him.

“What is it, Cousin Charlotte?” Elizabeth asked politely.

“What?” Charley turned toward her, her mind still obsessed with what she might do to teach Sir Jean-Antony Foxearth-Tarrant-Matois a well-deserved lesson.

“Sir Antony said you had something of a private nature to say to me,” Elizabeth reminded her. “I am sure I have no idea what that can be, for we have scarcely exchanged more than a few words since I arrived. But if Sir Antony says it is so, it must be so. So what is it, if you please? We cannot tarry long, you know, for dearest Alfred will be sorely vexed if we keep them all waiting when he has been so obliging as to order dinner put forward to accommodate Mr. Gabriel.”