Smuggler's Kiss (12 page)

Eight customs men and two soldiers with rifles came aboard. A slender-looking officer led them, the brass on his uniform winking in the moonlight as he moved. He wore a neat wig with a hat and looked serious. He greeted the skipper formally, and barked orders at his men to spread out and search the ship. I stood quietly at the rail, hoping my disguise was sufficient in the darkness of the night.

The Revenue men climbed down through the hatches and we could hear banging and crashing as they searched the hold. Meanwhile the Revenue officer stayed on deck, questioning the skipper. I listened nervously, wondering what account he could give of himself. It seemed to me that cargo or no cargo, we’d been caught in highly suspicious activity.

A notebook in hand, the officer had noted down the name of the ship and the skipper’s name (not his true one, I suspected) and was asking questions. The skipper was answering them slowly and painstakingly. I regarded him in surprise, having thought him an intelligent man.

‘What are you doing sailing at night?’ the Revenue officer wanted to know.

The skipper pushed his cap forward and scratched the back of his head.

‘Can’t say as we was doin’ aught partickler,’ he drawled, his local dialect suddenly pronounced. ‘We just took a fancy for a sail by moonlight, see?’

‘No one takes a fancy to sail by moonlight!’ scoffed the officer.

The skipper stared at him, blank-faced. ‘That’s agin the law now too, be it?’ he asked.

‘It is if you’re landing contraband and I know that’s what you were doing! Defrauding His Majesty of duty!’

‘His Majesty’s what?’ said the skipper, a look of idiocy on his face.

‘His Majesty’s customs!’ snapped the officer. ‘There’s duty to be paid on goods landed on this coast as you very well know!’

‘Oh aye, I reckon we know that, eh, lads?’ The skipper glanced around at his crew who nodded and murmured agreement.

‘So what are you doing here?’

‘Ah. We came looking for otters.’

‘Otters?’ snapped the Revenue officer, exasperated.

‘Aye. That there be Otter Island, b’aint it?’ he asked pointing at the island. ‘Well some of me men wanted to be sighting an otter.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, man. It’s the middle of the night!’

‘Ah. That’d explain it then.’

‘Explain what?’

‘Why we ain’t seen hide nor hair o’ one.’ The skipper shook his head and sighed deeply. ‘Right disappointed they be. Happen we’d better come back later.’

The Revenue officer turned away in disgust, to find one of his men at his elbow. ‘I believe otters are nocturnal, sir, with respect,’ the young man said.

‘I don’t give a damn about otters!’ exclaimed the Revenue officer furiously. ‘Why do you even know these things, Jones? You worry me. Help search the ship!’

The men searched everywhere, even turning my cabin upside down. I saw the Revenue officer pull my bridal gown out of the chest and examine it in some perplexity and suspicion. My heart sank. Why hadn’t I thrown the thing overboard?

‘What’s this?’ the officer demanded, holding it up so that the skipper could see. ‘You have a woman on board?’

I shrank back into the shadows, pulling my cap low as the skipper shook his head slowly. ‘I don’t hold with women on ships,’ he replied.

‘Listen, man,’ said the officer seriously, ‘there’s a young woman gone missing in such a gown on this coast. This is serious. Where did you get it?’

Will moved slightly so that he was standing in front of me, blocking the officers’ view of me. The skipper paused. My heart beat fast. They wouldn’t give me up willingly. I knew far too much.

It occurred to me that I could step forward and own to the gown. There would be nothing any of the men could do if I revealed myself. I would be taken away from this ship. I hesitated. Did I want to return to my other life?

‘Found it in the sea,’ the skipper responded at last. ‘Fished it up off … Durdle Door, I reckon it was, eh, lads?’

A general murmur of assent.

‘And did it have … was there no one in it?’ asked the officer swallowing hard. ‘No … no body?’

I inched further back into Will’s shadow. I didn’t want to leave. It was a revelation that now I finally had the chance to escape, I no longer wished to; I was as happy on board
The Invisible
as I’d ever been in my life.

The skipper looked around at his men. ‘Anyone see a young woman in it?’

Again, heads were shaken. ‘Not so much as a mermaid,’ said Generous Joe, who had not, in fact, seen me until I’d changed clothes. ‘It were like you see it now, only wetter.’

They took my gown with them, of course. It was all the officers of the king’s Revenue had to show for their rummage of the ship. A small enough prize.

I didn’t care much about the loss of the muddied, bedraggled gown; only for the trouble the find might cause. Would my parents now be certain that I was dead? Would they sorrow? They must already have thought me dead for a month or more. And as far as my old life was concerned, I was. I just hoped the gown didn’t set a search afoot or cause trouble for the crew of
The Invisible
.

There had been talk of an inquiry and witnesses, which made some of the crew scowl angrily at me while others stood protectively around me. When the officers left and as
The Invisible
sailed back out to sea, Will remained close to me, not taking part in sailing the ship. I felt him watching me, but pretended not to notice. At last I yawned and realized how very tired I was. I began to walk towards my cabin, but Will caught hold of my arm.

‘You didn’t say anything,’ he said. ‘Why not?’

I shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ I admitted.

His eyes were on me again, and I could feel myself colouring. Although it was dark, and he wouldn’t be able to see, I turned my face away from him, looking out to sea. The fresh, salty night air fanned my hot cheeks. I was telling the truth. I didn’t know why I had suddenly not wanted to be taken from the ship. I didn’t know when things had changed. I just knew that I felt a part of the crew now. Unthinkable, but true nonetheless. I didn’t feel ready to talk about it. So I looked down at Will’s hand, still grasping my wrist.

‘Do you mind?’ I asked. ‘I’m weary and need to sleep.’

He looked at me a moment longer, his gaze curious. Then he released me. ‘Sleep well,’ he said. There was no trace of mockery or irony in his voice. I nodded, flustered, and retreated to my cabin to lie awake, wondering if I had made the right choice not to take the escape route when it had been offered to me.

The following day dawned dull and wet. When I emerged from my cabin, rain was lashing the decks, making them slippery. I hurried to the galley, holding on to ropes, rails, hatches, anything that was handy to help me stay upright. The visibility was so poor that I had no way of knowing where the ship was, only that it was under sail to somewhere or other.

The galley was steamy and smelt of bacon with an underlying aroma of wet dog. The ship’s cat greeted me enthusiastically and I bent to stroke it. Lots of the men who weren’t on duty were crammed into this warm, damp space, many unwashed and dirty.

Will and Jacob made room for me on an already overcrowded bench. I fetched my bowl of porridge and eased myself between them, struggling to wield my spoon in such a confined space.

‘We’ve got another job for you later today,’ Will told me when I finished eating.

‘If you need a ghost, you’re out of luck,’ I told him. ‘My ghost costume having been confiscated.’

Jacob shook his head, a grave frown on his face. ‘That were a bad error. The skipper’s kicking himself for not throwing it overboard before we was searched.’

‘Or throwing
her
overboard,’ muttered Slippery Sam. ‘Why didn’t you throw that gown away?’ He sent me a swift look of dislike. ‘You should of thought of it.’

‘Happen she wanted to be found,’ snarled Hard-Head Bill.

‘She didn’t say a word though, when she could of,’ Jacob spoke up in my defence. ‘There’d have been a whole heap more trouble if she’d have shown herself to the Philistines.’ I was glad to hear mutters of agreement and had a sense of some of the men closing ranks around me in the face of this criticism.

‘Well, I don’t reckon she’s a risk worth taking,’ muttered Hard-Head Bill.

‘Most of us no longer agree with you,’ replied Will steadily. Then he turned and addressed me as though there’d been no interruption. ‘We don’t need you for your acting talent today, Isabelle,’ he said. ‘How is your knowledge of lace?’

I stared at him in surprise. ‘I don’t know … Certainly I know fine work when I see it. I mean … I’ve worn a fair bit in my time.’

‘Good. You see, I’ve been commissioned to buy a large quantity, but have no detailed knowledge of the stuff. I don’t want to get tricked with an inferior quality.’

‘For whom?’ I asked. ‘Why cannot they select it themselves?’

There was much sniggering about me. I looked around puzzled. Then it dawned on me that of course brandy and wine were not the only goods to be smuggled across the channel. French lace paid high duties at the port too, and was a costly item. No doubt it would be well worth smuggling.

Will sighed. ‘Come up on deck,’ he told me. I got up and followed him to the door. One of the men stuck out a leg and I tripped over it, falling heavily on the dirty floor. There was a roar of laughter and the blood rushed to my cheeks. I picked myself up, one knee and both palms grazed, furious and humiliated. I couldn’t see who had done it, though I had a pretty good idea it was Sam or Bill.

‘That’s enough to make me wish I’d spoken out yesterday when the customs man asked for me,’ I said fiercely.

‘Oooh, I’m quakin’ in my boots,’ Bill cried. I left the cabin, my face burning and tears starting in my eyes. As I walked out, I heard Jacob’s voice behind me.

‘That weren’t funny, Bill,’ he said. ‘And if it happens again, you’ll have me to reckon with.’

The door to the galley banged shut behind me and I was out in the rain again.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Will who had left the galley before the incident. I told him, and he shrugged unsympathetically.

‘They’re angry and frightened that you and that dratted gown have put us all in danger,’ he said. ‘Besides, your class has put most of them through far worse many times over. You can’t expect them not to take a little revenge when you are unprotected.’

‘There’s no need to take it out on me, though. I’ve never done anyone any harm.’

‘Really?’ asked Will sceptically. ‘You’ve never humiliated a servant or worker?’

I was about to retort that I certainly hadn’t, when a few uncomfortable incidents rose unbidden in my mind. The nursery maid I had slapped, knowing she couldn’t slap me back without losing her job. The scullery maid who’d been dismissed for stealing pies my sister and I had taken. Countless small troubles and humiliations I’d heaped on others. I’d never thought of them in that light before. I’d never considered the hurt and unhappiness my actions must have caused. They’d only been servants, after all. I’d never really thought until now that they might have feelings like me.

When I didn’t reply, Will looked at me closely, nodded once and changed the subject. ‘As you can see, we’ve arrived in Cherbourg once more,’ he said, throwing out his arm to indicate our surroundings. The motion of the ship had been lessening while I ate breakfast. I’d noticed it but given it little thought. I nodded, seeing the rain-washed quay beside the ship.

‘But before we go ashore you need a haircut!’

‘No!’ I cried. I clamped my hands protectively over my ragged hair. ‘You’re not touching it!’ I told him.

‘Me? No, of course not. It’s Harry who is the expert with a pair of scissors,’ replied Will. ‘You can’t walk about the town looking like that.’

I felt unnaturally shorn as I disembarked. My hair now reached to just above my shoulders and was at present tied back into a short ponytail with a black ribband like Will’s; I couldn’t remember it ever having been so short.

‘But like this,’ Will had comforted me, ‘we can tie it back to make you look like a boy or dress it to make you look like a girl. Ideal.’

I was surprised to be sent alone with Will into the town. I’d thought there would be others accompanying us and said as much as he strode off towards the town centre, with me trotting at his side.

‘I’m the agent of our little ventures, you see, Isabelle,’ he told me.

‘What do you mean by agent?’ I asked. My father had an agent who managed his estates—or at least he used to have, I reminded myself sadly—but that couldn’t be what Will meant.

‘It means I handle the money,’ said Will, patting his waistcoat with a grin. ‘I negotiate the contracts in England; which goods are required and so on. Then I carry the money and I do the buying here in
la belle France
. In some places I also arrange the rendezvous with the landers. We always agree two or three spots on the coast. If one is being watched we move on to the next the following night.’

‘You’re very communicative all of a sudden,’ I remarked. ‘Have you decided you trust me or something?’

‘Let’s just say I’m inclined to give you the benefit of the doubt.’