Chapter 22 #3
Emma pulled the trigger. “Yes, there is. I believe William is now or at least has been involved with the smuggling gang operating in the vicinity of Highbury. I’m guessing your son’s reaction has something to do with that.”
Mrs. Cox gaped at her, stunned into silence. Sadly, her daughters were not.
“Mrs. Knightley, how could you say such an awful thing?” Anne hotly declared. “He would never do anything so stupid and vulgar.”
Susan nodded so vigorously her curls danced. “Anne’s right. William would never do anything so dreadful.”
“I’ll bet that Harriet Martin is the cause of all this,” Anne said with a sneer. “She’s always been jealous of me, so she decided to get back at me by telling fibs about William.”
Really, Anne was the most annoying girl. “It may be difficult for you to believe, Miss Cox, but this isn’t about you. Not unless you’ve been helping your brother with his smuggling activities.”
Anne’s only response was to bluster, while Susan simply burst into tears.
“Oh dear,” said Miss Bates. She extracted a handkerchief from her reticule and handed it to Susan.
Mrs. Cox regained her voice. “Mrs. Knightley, I’m incredulous that you would make such an accusation against my son. Please remember that my husband is a solicitor and an officer of the court.”
“I mean no disrespect to you or your husband, ma’am,” Emma replied. “Believe me, I wouldn’t level such a charge if I didn’t think it absolutely necessary.”
“I’m certain my son has nothing to do with smuggling. I cannot imagine where you would get such a notion.”
Emma nodded at William who, at the moment, looked like a rabbit cornered by a fox, paralyzed with fear. “Look at your son, ma’am. And please remember that you have been concerned for him as of late.”
Mrs. Cox gazed at her son. His only response was to duck his head to avoid her searching eye.
“But William’s been ever so much better since he started courting Miss Nash,” Susan pleaded. “He would never do anything to displease her.”
At the mention of his sweetheart, William turned a stricken gaze on Emma. “Please don’t tell Miss Nash what I’ve done, or my father. He’ll disown me if he finds out.”
“Finds out that you’ve been involved with the smuggling ring?” Emma gently asked.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
Mrs. Cox rose from her seat and crossed to him. “William, tell me the truth. Is what Mrs. Knightley saying true?”
He opened his eyes and gazed miserably up at his mother. “Yes, but I stopped doing it months ago. And I didn’t go on many runs in the first place, I swear. It was all just a lark, Mama. Really!”
Mrs. Cox fixed him with an astounded stare for several excruciating moments. Then her arm flashed up and she boxed her son’s ears.
“Ouch!” yelped William. “Mama, why did you hit me?”
“Because you’ve disgraced this family, you foolish boy! Whatever will your father say—you’ve ruined him!”
At that, Susan descended into full-blown hysterics and even Anne started to cry. Ignoring her daughters, Mrs. Cox continued to berate her son. He began to defend himself while also pleading with her not to tell his father.
The din was considerable.
Miss Bates grabbed Emma’s arm. “Mrs. Knightley, what should we do?”
“Use your smelling salts on Susan and try to calm her down.”
Emma rose and reached for Anne’s shoulder, giving her a shake. “Miss Cox, try to control yourself before the servants hear you.”
Anne’s dramatic sob ended on a prosaic hiccup, and her tragic expression transformed into a glare. “This is all your fault, Mrs. Knightley. We shall all be ruined.”
“You will be if you don’t cease acting like a henwit,” Emma ruthlessly replied.
Then she inserted herself between the brangling mother and son. Never had she thought to be in the position of protecting an impudent pup like William Cox from his own mother, but it had been a very strange day.
And it wasn’t even noon yet.
“Mrs. Cox, you must let me speak with William,” Emma firmly said. “It will do no good to continue berating him.”
“He deserves a good scolding, and then a trip to the woodshed!”
“I’m a grown man, not a boy,” her son protested.
“What you are is a criminal, and I never thought to see such a day,” Mrs. Cox replied in a quavering voice.
Emma gently guided the poor woman back to her chair. “I’m sure William did think it was just a merry lark to begin with. Young men can frequently be foolish.”
Not that she’d had much experience in that regard, but William seemed typical of the breed.
“Mrs. Knightley, what are we to do?” Mrs. Cox dolefully asked.
Emma directed her attention to William. “First we will need the truth from you—all of it.”
The young man spread his arms wide. “I didn’t mean anything by it. You must believe me, Mrs. Knightley.”
“I shall if you tell me the truth. Do not forget, a man’s life is at stake.”
He blinked. “You mean Mr. Larkins.”
“Yes.”
“But everyone knows Larkins was involved with the smuggling,” Anne exclaimed. “And killed that maid, too.”
Emma narrowed her eyes on the girl. “Miss Cox, do you think that for one blessed moment you might behave like a rational person?”
Anne subsided with a sullen glare.
“Thank you. Now, William, do you know if Mr. Larkins was involved with the smugglers in any way?”
He shook his head. “I never saw him or heard tell of him. I never heard anyone else mention his name, either.”
Emma expelled a relieved breath. “You’re certain of that?”
“Yes, ma’am. I never heard anyone mention him or Donwell Abbey.”
Thank God.
“Are any of the smugglers from Highbury?”
“No. I never saw them before I …” He grimaced. “You know.”
“Began smuggling.”
“It really wasn’t for that long,” he miserably said. “And like I said, I didn’t go on that many runs. It started off as a lark, just as you said, but then it began to feel dangerous. I didn’t want anything more to do with it after that.”
“How did you get involved in the first place?” asked Emma. “Where did you meet those men?”
“In a tavern in Kingston-on-Thames. I used to meet a few friends from London there, now and again.”
“I told your father those London friends of yours were a bad influence,” his mother bitterly said. “Your friends in Highbury weren’t good enough, I suppose.”
William grimaced. “Mama, you’re embarrassing me.”
“I think we’re well beyond that,” Emma noted. “You met those men in a tavern. And they convinced you to join their smuggling ring.”
“Not the first time I saw them. They just seemed like bangup fellows, and we fell to talking. So I met them again a few times after that.”
“What are their names?”
“Dick and Bill Smith. They’re brothers.” Then he frowned. “Although they didn’t look like brothers at all, come to think of it.”
Emma resisted the impulse to whack him with her reticule. Was it really possible for someone to be so stupid?
“I doubt those were their real names. I presume you can identify the tavern, though.”
He gave her a hesitant smile. “Oh, yes. I can do that, at least.”
Emma waited. “And?”
“Oh, um, it’s the Eagle and the Hare.”
“Thank you. Now, how did they convince you to participate in these activities?”
“Because I was stupid,” he said with a sigh. “They made it sound like it was such a jolly. Like everyone did it, and there was nothing dangerous about it. And also a bang-up way to make extra blunt.”
Miss Bates tilted her head like an inquisitive wren. “What’s blunt?”
“Money,” Emma said. “Did they also pay you in goods?”
“Yes. Tea, mostly, and a bottle of brandy every now and again.”
“But you told us you got those nice things from your friends in … in London,” hiccupped Susan.
He grimaced, while his mother simply sighed. Clearly, the Cox family hadn’t bothered to question too closely why their son was able to bring home such largesse.
“All right,” Emma said. “Tell me exactly what you did and how it worked.”
In a halting tone, William explained that he occasionally went on the runs for about six months.
Mostly, he helped transport small casks of spirits along the abandoned roads or deserted trails that intersected this part of Surrey, trails that ran up from the coast on their way to London.
The contraband goods were usually hidden in abandoned sheds or occasionally in barns— sometimes with the cooperation of the farmers, sometimes not.
“That’s when I became worried,” he confessed. “Most of the farmers turned a blind eye, but there were a few who didn’t and, well, the smugglers threatened them.”
“How, exactly?” Emma asked.
“They told one fellow they’d burn down his barn. And … and worse.”
She had no desire to inquire into the specifics of worse.
“William, were you able to ascertain if those men were part of a larger operation?”
He nodded and went on to explain that the runs were well organized and apparently happened at least twice a month.
“They knew what they were about,” he finished. “I thought it was just a few fellows, at first—like I said, more of a jolly than anything else.” He grimaced. “Pretty stupid of me, I guess.”
Anne scoffed. “How could you be such a dimwit? I wouldn’t have fallen into their trap.”
“They don’t ask girls,” he retorted. “So you’d never have the chance to show them how smart you are.”
Mrs. Cox looked pained. “Children, please do not make things worse with your idiotic bickering.”
“William, how did they contact you?” Emma asked, trying to reclaim the conversation.
“I met them once a month at the Eagle and the Hare,” he replied.
“They never communicated in writing?”
He shook his head.
“Could you identify the farms where the goods were stored?”
He grimaced. “The runs only happened on moonless or overcast nights, so it was very dark. I … I don’t think I could tell you specifically which farms. Only the route.”
“When we’re finished here,” she said. “I want you to write down everything you can remember.”