Chapter 16
Sixteen
Mrs Glendenning put down her tea cup and once again shook her head as she looked between her husband and Charlotte, who sat near Hugh on a delicate chair by the fireside a short time later that fateful day.
“But the two of you have met under this roof every week for three years and barely exchanged a word. How could I have missed what was in front of my eyes?” She sent a look of entreaty at the magistrate as she added, “As a champion of the love match, I’d have done all I could to have promoted a marriage between my worthy governess and the very able Mr Kernick. ”
“Not that it would have done either much good, to be blunt, Mrs Glendenning,” replied Sir Pennyworth, “for neither has a penny to their name. No, what mattered was that I didn’t miss what was in front of my eyes before it was too late.” He raised an eyebrow at Hugh and Charlotte.
“Oh, but how fortuitous that you interpreted matters correctly and did what was in your power to grant them both their hearts’ desires,” Mrs Glendenning interrupted, dabbing her eyes.
Yes, Charlotte’s reputation had been championed. Word had got out that Hugh had hinted at his feelings for Charlotte in front of his employer, prompting the magistrate to investigate a position that rewarded his highly esteemed tutor with a modest salary as his new man of business.
Nothing about Charlotte being discovered in the night with Mr Barton—or indeed, about what she and Hugh had got up to in the cave—was in the public domain to tarnish her good name.
“It’s not a salary equal to what you might hope to earn given your scholarly opportunities at a great university in years to come,” Sir Pennyworth said with a shrug, “but I recognised the value in doing what I could to make a worthy couple happy.”
At that moment, Hugh and Charlotte’s tale was capturing the imagination of all levels of society in Swain Cove. The fact that the couple’s hopeless, unspoken feeling for one another had turned to love in a cave when neither had known if they would live or die would become the stuff of local legend.
How heroic of the young tutor to rescue the governess from the raging seas?
Didn’t their good magistrate reward bravery when he recognised it?
So Hugh was no longer to work at Riverdale School, or as tutor to Lord Pennyworth’s sons, or enjoy the prospect of a Fellowship in the hallowed halls of Oxford.
No, he would have something he valued so much more: the love of his beautiful Charlotte.
Two refills of the teapot and there was nothing more to be said. The banns would be read, and Hugh and Charlotte—not Charlotte and Mr Ravensby—would be wed in the village church in three weeks’ time.
“The only person to have suffered in all this is Mr Ravensby whose heart is surely broken,” remarked Mrs Glendenning, but her husband said, wryly, “I believe Mr Ravensby might have other consolations though time will tell.” Clearing his throat, he’d quickly changed the subject.
As Charlotte had no curiosity as to what Mr Ravensby would now do, she was only too glad to quit the room and accompany Hugh down the stairs so he could tend to his horse, a euphemistic way of getting Charlotte to himself for a few minutes.
Now she was able to sink into his arms as they found the shadows in the garden, well away from prying eyes—and from the spot where Charlotte had been so humiliated by Mr Barton and where Mr Ravensby had intended to make his proposal.
“This is the first time we’ve been alone together since…
” she blushed as she recalled their passionate tryst in the cave and Hugh pulled her close, as she added, “I’m still finding all this difficult to understand.
How could such good fortune have landed in your lap when yesterday you had no choice but to remain as Sir Pennyworth’s tutor, or take up the position at Riverdale and eschew marriage to anyone? ”
Hugh cupped her face. “I should tell you it’s a secret, Charlotte.
It seems everyone holds them tight in Swain Cove.
The smugglers know who is with them and who is against them.
They might have thought the magistrate was against them but his penchant for French brandy meant he had a vested interest in ensuring that his regular barrel made it across the channel—”
Charlotte’s eyes widened as she finished, “And with no duty payable!” A sudden thought occurred to her, and she broke into his next sentence, saying with a gasp, “Why, I had no idea how much I owe the magistrate, then, since it was no doubt his brandy I drank that gave me the courage to tell you how I really felt.”
“We owe the magistrate more than that, my darling,” said Hugh. “Lord Pennyworth knew the excisemen had been tipped off that the contraband was to be moved from the caves last night and onto a cart that would take it away from Swain Cove.”
“So, did he write the note?”
Hugh shook his head. “The publican of the Cock and Bull did that. No, Sir Pennyworth had no idea that we knew anything, however he gleaned I was somewhat involved when I arrived and tried to waylay the company. He meanwhile, had been trying to avert the attention of the excisemen from what was happening in full view of the Cock and Bull where they were meeting, and the cliff face where the excisemen should have been holding their vigil.” He smiled.
“But it was his realisation of our own situation that pushed him to come up with an alternative for me. Why, he’d thought he was offering me my heart’s desire when he recommended me for the position I was to take up in Riverdale. ”
“The magistrate doesn’t strike me as a soft-hearted man,” said Charlotte, thinking of some of the harsh sentences he’d handed out.
“While I concur, I should tell you that the position he’s found for me instead, and which ensures I am able to take a wife, has a certain self interest attached to it.”
“You haven’t even told me what it is, Hugh! Or where we shall live.”
Smiling, he gently brushed her cheek. “In that sweet little cottage down by the water’s edge with a bird’s eye view of the cove, and of all the boats that pass to and fro.
I’m to be his clerk and man of business, at an elevated salary on account of the intelligence I offer that will confuse the excisemen when the need arises. ”
“I simply can’t believe the magistrate is involved with the smugglers.” Charlotte shook her head.
“It’s only his brandy he’s interested in. And he’s careful to do what he needs to in order to maintain the fiction that he’s the upholder of the law everyone believes him.”
“Oh, but Hugh, you’ve given up a life of learning and prestige to work … in the smuggling business?”
Hugh kissed her nose. “Only for a short while, my love. Only for as long as it takes me to work my way up and out, to make my own way in the world.”
For a moment, Charlotte didn’t know what to say.
But then, as her beloved Hugh’s arms tightened about her, she closed her eyes and her conscience was eased by the thought that their activities meant keeping food on the table and a roof above their heads. Not just for them but for all the folk in Swain Cove.
And, of course, a constant supply of France’s best brandy for the magistrate, to whom they both owed so much.
THE END
Meet Louisa Stapleton: drab, overlooked companion by day…
and a dashing gambling queen by night. After one youthful scandal (“chasing the scarlet”) she’s spent nine years paying for her mistakes—until her aunt threatens to cast her out unless she accepts a proposal from the unctuous Mr. Rivers, who claims he can “redeem” her stained reputation.
But Louisa has one last, deliciously daring plan. A secret night-time transformation puts her in the path of Felix Evesham—handsome, dangerous to her composure, and far too perceptive.
A funny Regency Cinderella retelling, packed with disguise, scandal, and a laugh-out-loud ending. Dare to turn the page?
Hazard’s Mistress is next in the Hearts in Hiding series and you can get it HERE or direct from the author HERE.