Chapter 38 #2
He glanced back at the case in the hole.
‘Every bottle accounted for. Were it a crime of opportunity or more thuggish thieves I should suspect at least one missing, consumed as celebration. It suggests a far more disciplined and organised operation than one might expect. Perhaps they have a buyer in mind. No. Something seems amiss. I think perhaps it is better our discovery go unknown for the time being.’
‘But what of Sir Walter?’
‘I imagine he has come to terms with the loss by now. And the value of the case will only increase over time. Not quite a wine cellar, but no harm will come to it.’
‘Unless they come to reclaim it.’
‘That is a possibility. You see my dilemma. I can hardly post watch when there is no suggestion of how long it might be before they return. Yet to return it endangers either my cover or your safety.’
‘There is another option,’ she offered. ‘We could rebury it elsewhere. We should retain our secrecy but secure the contents. If the culprits return, they will know that someone found their stash, but will not know who.’
Lucy could read his face well enough to know he approved.
The crate was heavy, and Lucy mused that she was the inferior Elliot sister for such a task. Yet she lent her aid as much as she could, for it was too much to ask of even a fit and healthy man to carry alone.
Lucy Elliot, helping to relocate stolen goods, she thought. How much your life has changed in but a season.
With the weight and the forest working against them, they did not carry the cargo far, taking it westward from the clearing by direction of Captain Dashwood’s compass. Lucy found herself not the least bit surprised that he carried such an instrument on his person.
Beneath a fallen tree was an old badger tunnel, now uninhabited, which made a good start for a new hiding place, aided by the diligent shovel work of Captain Dashwood.
She offered to help, but he refused, which she was quite grateful for, as she was uncertain of her usefulness in such a task.
Instead she kept watch on the surrounding forest – and did her best not to keep watch on him.
Once the crate was reburied, and the earth replaced and concealed by plants, they stood back and assessed their work.
Lucy made a few more suggestions as to shifting plants and branches they had disturbed, until finally she was satisfied.
If one was searching the spot in detail it might be discovered, but it was a large forest and even the most determined thieves would be unlikely to ever find their stolen treasure.
Dashwood pulled a couple of loose leaves from his hair, brushing his face with a neckerchief to soften a dirt mark on his cheek.
Lucy sighed, for though he retained a rugged handsomeness, he was shamefully dishevelled for a man of his standing.
She inquired for a comb, was delighted when he produced one and spent a minute returning his hair to an appropriate state.
She was just finishing wiping his cheek with her handkerchief when one intense focus on respectability collided with another.
She was alone in the woods, in the company of a bachelor.
She met his eyes and in the instant saw he too had just now realised it.
Defence of the realm and visiting potential highwaymen was one thing, but this, this felt dangerous.
Her hand hovered just by his cheek and she saw his throat move as he swallowed.
Was he as nervous as her? She could scarcely imagine it was possible.
Slowly his opposite hand rose, reaching over, touching her fingertips and closing the handkerchief into her palm.
The touch of his fingers was light on hers, his hands still warm from activity.
She saw the look in his eyes, waiting. It was her choice to be made, and she was certain he would follow her as surely as he had as messenger to driver.
She felt the tension within her, a tightly coiled spring that only needed the pin pulled to hurl them into the unknown.
Lucy Elliot, a voice of reason whispered in the back of her mind. You do not ride blind.
She pictured the path. Exhilaration. Recklessness. Scandal. Disaster for them both. There would be slower paths for them to take. But not this one. Not here and now.
She withdrew her hand, lowering it, returning the handkerchief to her pocket.
‘What is the time, please?’ Her voice sounded too high-pitched.
Dashwood exhaled and he nodded as he checked his pocket watch, his steady rider’s hands visibly shaking. ‘It is a quarter past one, Miss Elliot.’
‘It is later than I expected.’
‘Digging is hard work.’
She closed her eyes, distracting herself from the personal with the practical, eager to follow the new thread of thought that had just sprung upon her.
Turning her mind to the time and mentally plotting her route home had provoked an unexpected thought and she fell deep into introspection for several seconds before she finally opened her eyes and spoke her spontaneous thought aloud.
‘Longburn Mire.’
Dashwood raised an eyebrow at the sudden exclamation. ‘Longburn Mire?’
Whatever spell they had been under was broken, and she was sure she saw a moment of both regret and relief cross the captain’s features.
‘It took us quite some time to bury the box,’ she explained. ‘But the brandy was not the only thing missing.’
‘The driver.’ He frowned, settling in to her line of thought.
‘To bury a small case would be arduous enough, even for two people. You could not swiftly do the same with a body, even with several men. And in the previous robbery, you said four men went missing. To dig a grave for four in so short a time would be impossible.’
‘And yet no trace of them has ever been found.’
‘Suppose you wanted to be rid of them in a way that would make them difficult to find, but not take undue effort?’ Lucy posed. ‘I think the answer might be to dump them in Longburn Mire.’
‘I have heard the name, but not visited it.’
‘I’m not surprised, it is horridly cold and wet by winter, dreadfully stifling and fly-ridden in summer, and combinations of both in between.
Swamp and bog with allegedly a few safe paths, but little reason for one to ever take them.
It stretches all the way from the north-east of the St Martins’ property to the stream near Lord Rathbone’s.
I believe they each own some of it by technicality, but neither bothers with it as the cost to develop anything would be prohibitive. ’
‘And yet, for the purpose you propose?’
‘It would be deep, murky and isolated.’
‘And they might have left behind traces of a visit.’
‘I am afraid I have neither the boots nor the wardrobe for such an expedition,’ said Lucy.
‘Nor would I expect it of you. Your insight and knowledge have been invaluable to me, but I assure you I have no intention of putting you in harm’s way, or indeed any unpleasantness.’
‘I appreciate your concern, Captain, but I should be equally upset if harm were to come to you.’
‘Thank you for that. My profession is not one given to personal concerns. It is gratifying to hear you speak of me in such terms.’
‘I think, Captain Dashwood, it would be dishonest to deny of ourselves personal concerns.’
He nodded, their shared moment passed but not forgotten.
They walked back towards the road, deciding to part ways at the wood’s end. His rough attire was unseemly for company, and too many chance encounters might hold a risk of reputation.
‘I shall not assess the mire today,’ he said. ‘If I am to do so, I shall make preparations and have Jim for company. Company and a sturdy rope can offset the danger if not the muck.’
‘I am glad to hear it.’
‘I … I trust you can remember the case’s location if you need to.’
‘Indeed. Good day, sir.’ She nodded, a tremor undercutting her attempted detachment.
After a moment’s pause, they headed in opposite directions down the road. Lucy had utmost certainty she could recall the location of their buried treasure. She suspected she would remember that spot as long as she lived.