Chapter 11 #2
“What’s that? Who hasn’t?”
“Bill Jenner!” Izzy said, breathless after having run all the way through Winsham Woods to give her father the news. “His boat is gone and there’s no sign of him.”
Her father set aside the letter he’d been reading and looked at her over his spectacles. “Can it be?”
“Oh, I know it is wicked of me to say so, but—”
“Hush!” her father said, wagging a finger at her. “Don’t. I feel it too, child, but never wish evil upon another, for it will come back upon you no matter how deserving the recipient.”
Izzy sighed, glowering. “Well, that’s hardly fair.”
Her father reached over and patted her hand. “We shall see what we shall see. The good Lord has his plans, and we mere mortals must do our best to rise to the challenges before us.”
“Will you go to visit Mrs Jenner, then?”
Her father nodded, getting to his feet. “I will indeed. Shall you come along too? Perhaps you could fill a basket for the poor creature. She looked like she had not eaten a good meal since—”
“Since the last time she stayed with us,” Izzy said tartly.
“True enough,” the reverend said with a sigh of regret. “Run along then, Izzy, my dear. I’m ready when you are.”
Izzy nodded and hurried down to the kitchens, where Mrs Addie helped her to fill a basket with a large pork pie, a jar of pickles, a dozen fresh eggs, a fresh loaf and a jar of honey.
Satisfied with her haul, Izzy hefted the basket up the stairs to discover her father standing at the front door waiting for her.
“Swap,” he said with a smile, offering her the bonnet she’d abandoned in his study and taking the basket.
“Did old Mr Tanner keep to the deal you made with Mr King?” she asked as she tied the ribbons under her chin.
“He did. I waved them off about an hour ago. Young Tommy looked beside himself with excitement to be going to the big city. I believe that young man has a bright future if he keeps faith with Jasper, which I think he will. But that is not the last we shall see of Mr King, if I know anything,” he said with a chuckle.
Izzy looked at him with interest. “What do you know, Papa?”
But her father only chuckled again and tapped the side of his nose. “You’ll see, my dear. In a little while, you shall see.”
Grumbling under her breath, Izzy gave it up. Her father loved knowing things other people didn’t and so she allowed him the pleasure he took in teasing her a little.
The row of tiny fishermen’s cottages lay on the far side of The Dog and Duck, but Izzy was unsurprised her father took the longer route, past the small patch of woodland behind the pub.
Though he did not shelter his daughters from the reality of the world, from poverty or disease, or the wicked acts people could enact on one another, he would not willingly expose them to danger.
She knew her father had dealings with the smugglers who ran their trade in and around the town.
He had sympathy for men who struggled to earn enough to feed their families when smuggling provided an income that far exceeded any legitimate work, and she suspected that during the war, there had been other reasons for his involvement, though he had never admitted to it, even after the war was won.
They were walking and chatting amiably, with the reverend musing with anticipation upon the merits of a rather splendid piece of beef Mrs Addie had promised to serve with roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding, when a shadow detached itself from the trees.
Izzy gave a little shriek of alarm, but her father put his hand out, grasping her arm.
“Steady there, my dear. You’re in no danger.”
Izzy glanced at her father incredulously, for the man before them was dressed all in black, the hood of a cloak hiding his face from view, but two pistols were most visibly tucked into the leather belt around his waist.
“Good afternoon, Reverend,” the man said, his voice surprisingly cultured for a smuggler, for surely that was what he was. “Forgive me for startling the young lady, but there was no help for it.”
“What’s amiss, Boreas? Surely you know the town is seething with redcoats. You take a significant risk being abroad in daylight, and so close to The Dog and Duck. Captain Underwood takes his role seriously, and he means to see you hanged.”
“I know it,” replied the man, sounding more amused than dismayed by this information as he pushed back the hood of his cloak.
Despite her intention to continue scowling at the devil who had given her such a start, Izzy could only gape at the face thus presented to her.
Never in her life had she seen such a handsome man.
Eyes of a blue so piercing she could not tear her gaze from them twinkled merrily, his hair so fair it gleamed almost silver, though the sun was hidden behind a thick bank of cloud.
So, this was Boreas, leader of the smuggling gang people whispered about in the town.
She had heard it said he was a fine-looking fellow, with gentlemanly ways and a roving eye for a pretty lass, but for once the gossips had understated the case…
at least regarding his looks. Izzy became increasingly disgruntled when he continued to pay her no mind whatsoever.
“Then what was so urgent you must waylay me with my daughter?” her father demanded, a rare note of disapproval in his voice.
“Only that we’ll not offload here tonight as we’d planned.
As you said, the company is a little too lively for an attempt.
We’ll head down to Fairlight and stash it at the Lantern House and then use ponies to bring it up when things quiet down,” Boreas replied, still keeping his attention on her father.
“I figured that much,” the reverend said with a scowl. “What else?”
A rueful smile curved the fellow’s mouth. “You’re a deal too knowing, old man, but as it happens, I need to ask you to take something for me, for safekeeping. Just in case,” he said. “Do you mind?”
Her father held his hand out and Boreas flashed a grin. Reaching into his coat pocket, he drew out a leather wrapped packet. It might have been papers, or a small parcel; Izzy had not the time to view it before her father tucked it out of sight.
“I’m grateful to you, sir. I’m sure you’ll know what to do if the fine captain achieves his ambition,” he said.
“Please forgive me for startling you and your daughter. Good day, Reverend, Miss Honeywell.” With that, he gave a courtly bow, meeting Izzy’s eyes briefly and for the first time, before disappearing back into the shadows he had slipped from.
“Come, Izzy,” her father said, taking her arm once more. “Let us not linger here.”
“What was that about?” she asked. “Was that really Boreas?”
“It was, and that young man is playing with fire. He’ll come to a bad end if he does not have a care,” he said, shaking his head sadly. “I wish he would heed me, but he’s a deal too reckless. He always has been.”
“You sound like you know him well,” Izzy observed. “And like him, too.”
“Aye, I know him and like him. He’s a fine fellow, a brave one too, but he’s pushing his luck now and I wish he would not. Still, there’s no telling him, though the good Lord knows I’ve tried.”
Izzy felt a shiver of unease at her father’s words.
She had absolute faith in his opinions and his predictions, for no one had a better understanding of human nature than he.
Though she did not know him at all, she felt suddenly afraid for the handsome man with the laughing blue eyes and prayed that he was not quite so reckless as her father seemed to think.