Chapter 3
Three
She’d been brave. Even Hugh hadn’t been certain he’d properly break Miss Stanbridge’s fall, for he’d barely touched her ankle when extending his hand to its limit.
But he must have sounded more confident than he felt, for Miss Stanbridge had launched herself from the ledge and into his arms, though they’d both stumbled into the foaming sea from the force.
Once he’d helped drag her to her feet, he led her to higher ground and settled her on a rock near the narrow cave entrance.
Strange that he’d known the young woman for so many years, yet this was the first time they’d been alone.
Demanding employers and various duties kept him busy during his weekly visits to Honeyfield House.
Besides which, he always took the greatest care to ensure he didn’t appear to have his eye on the pretty governess.
No doubt there were plenty of far more eligible gentlemen in the wings who did.
But of course he’d always been aware of her presence, even though her distant politeness signalled her disinterest.
Their recent exchanges during the journey, however, had made him question this, and now, as she looked at him, she seemed more shy than distant. “I’ve been a burden, and you’ve been quite heroic, Mr Kernick.”
He didn’t know if she expected him to take the hand she offered, or whether it was merely a fleeting gesture to indicate solidarity for their current difficulties.
And, indeed, they were difficult.
The wind outside keened like a banshee, and the waves crashed like a frothing demon at the mouth of the cave. Their temporary shelter on a rock above water level would soon be covered by the tide, whereas the dark entrance to the cave beckoned.
But when he tried to persuade her into the water so they could struggle against the tide to reach it, she was reluctant.
“How can you know that we will be safe there from the tide?” she asked.
“I’m familiar with these tunnels from my boyhood.” He glanced over his shoulder at the raging sea behind him, acknowledging that the inky blackness of the cave was not welcoming. It had been years since he’d explored these tunnels, but they had once been as familiar as the back of his hand.
“Perhaps the storm will pass and we can climb back up and continue on our way before too long.” Her voice started more hopefully than it finished.
Hugh shook his head and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, causing him an instant charge of connection. It had happened earlier in the day when he’d helped her into the pony trap.
And when she’d thrown herself against him.
And when he’d held her after she’d jumped.
It had happened the first time they had met, and she, smiling shyly, had touched the back of his hand to show him something.
He’d reared back as if stung, and she’d stared at him with a look suggesting hurt and confusion.
Hugh had not known what to say, so had adopted politeness as his defence. After all, he’d heard it said often enough in those early days that the pretty governess at Honeyfield House would likely soon receive an offer from one of the village’s more well-connected residents.
And he was hardly in a position to court anyone—for that was guaranteed to court heartbreak.
The storm has a lot more energy to unleash,” he said. “And I’m afraid that your slender frame will not withstand the cold as well as I will. We must make our way to the cave, and I’ll go further in to see what we might find to warm us.”
“Warm us? In the caves?” He wasn’t surprised she sounded disbelieving, but on this score Hugh could offer a little more hope, for even as a boy he knew it was common practice to leave a lantern near the entrance.
Back then, smugglers had used the cave, which meant there would be storage capacity—and, thus, somewhere to remain protected—beyond reach of all but the highest tides.
But mass hangings many years before had, Hugh believed, wiped out Swain Cove’s smuggling trade.
A procession of excise men installed in the village since then were constantly on the lookout to ensure no luxury goods were smuggled across the channel that would deny the government their share of taxes and duty.
And Hugh’s own employer, Sir Pennyworth, was the first to deal harshly with anyone suspected of involvement in the smuggling trade.
Nevertheless, Hugh would be surprised if he didn’t find a lantern near the entrance. He just needed to coax Miss Stanbridge to come with him, for he certainly couldn’t leave her perched on a fast-disappearing rock, regardless of how reluctant she was to leave it.
“Take my hand, Miss Stanbridge. We’re very exposed here, but inside we’ll find shelter and possibly even the means to make a fire.”
“How can we make a fire there?” she asked, pointing to the darkness beyond.
Hugh’s spirits lightened. “In the past, the smugglers of Swain Cover used these caves. As boys, we sometimes found the means to make a fire.”
“But that was a long time ago. And there are no smugglers in Swain Cove now. I heard Sir Pennyworth had declared it publicly when he warned of the repercussions during a village meeting. Mrs Glendenning told me.”
“That doesn’t mean the caves aren’t still used for other reasons. They provide shelter, after all. And not everyone has shelter when they need it.” He indicated their own predicament. “Come now, Miss Stanbridge, we really need to hurry.”
A few minutes later, Hugh had settled Miss Stanbridge on dry land, just within the mouth of the cave, while he made a brief search amongst the nooks and crannies above his head.
It had been nearly two decades since he and the other boys had roamed these parts. When he found a flagon which, to his surprise, he discovered to be brandy, he pressed it upon Miss Stanbridge, saying that the medicinal effects outweighed the dangers of insobriety.
He was even more surprised when she held out her hand for the flagon a second time, asking if more medicinal fortitude were to be had.
Though Hugh also felt in considerably higher spirits than he had not so long before, he was duty bound to issue a warning.
“Just a small sip for now, Miss Stanbridge, if you’re not used to spirits—”
“I think under circumstances like this, I could be forgiven for taking a little more. You’re a very handsome man, Mr Kernick, did you know?”
She blinked, then frowned, just as he did, for he wasn’t sure if he had misheard her.
Then, shaking her head as if to clear it, Miss Stanbridge held the damp coat Hugh had given her more closely about her shoulders, and looked contemplatively at her feet, her expression one of confusion.
He noticed her trembling and said, “That wet coat is doing you no favours, Miss Stanbridge. I’m going to look deeper into the tunnel in case there’s dry clothing to be found.”
“Then you think there are still smugglers in Swain Cove?”
“I could not say. But I once knew these tunnels like the back of my hand. In those days goods were stored here, and if that is still the case, then I’d like to find something to ward off the cold more effectively than brandy. Will you not be too fearful if I’m gone a short while, Miss Stanbridge?”
“I’m used to being on my own in storms.”
Hugh took a step further into the tunnel. He wasn’t sure if he was only imagining it when he heard her finish on a faint hiccup. “But rest assured of a warm welcome when you come back.”