Kat closed the door behind her and paused to listen for several moments. She was aware of the steady trickle of tears on her cheeks, but made no attempt to wipe them away. Only when she heard his footsteps fade into the distance did she slowly push away from the door and open her eyes.
“What is it, Kat dear?” Agnes asked softly. She pushed Billy toward the stairs and turned moved across the room to stand before her daughter. She had not seen Kat cry since they had buried Frank. Something must have gone horribly wrong to distress her so.
“Oh, mother, I have made such a mess of things,” Kat gasped. One look at her mother’s face was all it took and she burst into uncontrollable sobs. She was only vaguely aware of being urged to sit down on the chair beside the fire, and felt her mother move to sit beside her. Agnes allowed Kat a few minutes to gather herself and patted the back of her hand while she wept. Billy arrived with a glass of brandy, but she didn’t attempt to take it off him, merely sniffed and continued to cry.
“What’s happened? Why are you back so soon?” It was only ten o’clock. Kat usually worked until midnight, later if there was cargo to bring in.
“Jonathan knows about the smuggling.”
Agnes’ gasp was the only thing that broke the stunned silence that fell over the room.
“How?”
“I don’t know, but he was asking me about it tonight. He knows mother. He knows.” Kat felt vaguely sick. Was the heavy guilt because she knew she was heavily involved in the smuggling, or because she had lied to Jonathan? She wasn’t sure, but she wished she was anywhere else but here.
“Why don’t you let me go out for you tonight? You get some rest,” Agnes offered. She had never been onto the beach before to bring cargo in. That had been something Kat had volunteered for given that she was already down in the tavern with the locals. It was easier for her to get to the beach with the men who all helped each other bring the cargo ashore and deliver it to people’s houses. Agnes had no idea how the operation worked, or what would be required of her, but she had never seen Kat so shaken before. Her thoughts turned to Jonathan and she wondered if there was more going on than she had realised.
“Jonathan is not going to be here for long,” she reminded her daughter. She knew her suspicions were correct when a look of pure misery darkened Kat’s eyes. “You know that he doesn’t stick around for long. He has been here far longer than ever before, so it is time for him to leave soon. There are rumours that he has a wife stashed away somewhere in London.”
Kat gasped and stared at the sympathy in her mother’s eyes. She couldn’t speak. Her heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces as disappointment that swept through her.
“Oh, mother,” she whispered. She made no objection when her mother gathered her into a maternal embrace and began to rock her the same way she used to do when she was a child.
“Sometimes it is better to cut the ties early and lose a little piece of your heart than allow things to continue that have no hope of ever lasting,” Agnes sighed sadly. She had always known that Kat had held a soft spot for the young lord from the big house. Most of the women in the village swooned over him, but Kat had always been one who had tried to ignore the attraction and get on with her own life. Both she and Frank had been most concerned when Kat had reached adolescence but, luckily, Jonathan had been sent away to boarding school and had only returned home for a few weeks at a time each year. It had set a precedent that had continued throughout his adult life. He still appeared out of the blue, stayed a few days and then vanished again for weeks, if not months at a time. Still, she ached for her daughter’s heartbreak and wished that there was something, anything she could do to ease the pain.
“He has been very kind and generous to help us the way he has. He will make a very fine husband for someone one day.”
“But not for me,” Kat whispered. Her voice quivered with unshed tears and she drew back to smile sadly at her mother.
“People like us don’t marry people like him,” Agnes sighed. “You know that Kat.”
“I do. I don’t know why I am crying really. I have known all along that he is irresponsible and not likely to be here for long. It just shook me tonight when he asked me outright about the smuggling that was going on in the village. He helped us in Tattersnell, and we lied to him.”
“We have to keep ourselves out of jail,” Agnes argued. “We didn’t ask him to get himself involved so it wasn’t as though we duped him into it.”
“I know, but it just doesn’t seem right.”
“You know what I think?” Agnes included Billy in her forthright glance. “I think that it is about time that we left this village and started again. We have the market stall, but we are paying more and more for the goods we buy to re-sell. We would be much better off if we bought a small farm of our own where we could grown our own stock to sell at market.”
Kat stared at her mother in surprise. It was the first time she had ever heard Agnes mention leaving the village. Quitting smuggling, yes, but the village? She stared blankly at Billy who slumped into the chair beside her. Avid curiosity was evident on his face. He wasn’t going to object to the possibility.
“But we don’t have the funds,” Kat whispered. She thought of the years of smuggling ahead of her that they would need to rely on if they had any hope of even being able to raise part payment for something the size of a farm, and shivered in horror.
Agnes smiled secretively and moved to the fireplace. Despite the flames that glowed in the fire, she began to rummage around up the chimney and emerged, sooty and sweaty moments later with a box clutched in her hands. She carefully placed it on the carpet and lifted the lid.
Kat gasped at the notes and coins stuffed into the wooden box. There were piles of it. Her gaze moved from the box to her mother and then back to the box as she tried to absorb what she saw. She watched Billy kneel almost reverently beside the box and poke one small finger at the pile of gold coins.
“How on earth?” Kat whispered.
“Your father and I began to squirrel away money for a long time before he passed. He always said it would help us in our old age. You know, when we couldn’t work anymore. When he passed he made me promise that we would use it wisely. I have continued to add some of our profits from the smuggling to the pile.” She allowed the children to absorb her surprise and felt inordinately pleased with herself, not only for having saved so much, but for the fact that her surprise had stopped Kat’s tears.
“But why have we been involved in smuggling then?” Kat tried to bank down her anger. She thought of all of the sleepless nights when she had been cold, exhausted and hungry. She had fought death and danger to bring ashore a hoard of goods that could send them to jail. All the time her mother had astonishing wealth secreted away, that rendered the money she had earned through smuggling a mere pittance.
“Because we need every penny we can get. These funds are to help all of us. At some point you are going to head out on your own way in life. You will have your share to help you along that way. But, meantime, we have the option of spending some of this to purchase a small fruit farm for ourselves so we can grow our own stock. The smuggling money has filled the coffers greatly because what your father and I managed to save was only a small portion of this.”
Kat felt slightly mollified, if a little put out that her mother hadn’t confided in her before now.
“Why now?” She demanded and watched her mother begin to count the notes.
“Because I strongly believe that it is time that we got out of the smuggling game once and for all. Harrison is becoming more and more persistent. It is only a matter of time before he finds something on one of the villagers that brings us all under suspicion. Look at how close we came the other day to getting caught. If it wasn’t for Molly’s manure pile, we would be behind bars right now. Now that Jonathan suspects the truth, we cannot afford to risk him being forced to tell his friend Hamilton-Smythe. We need to get out of this Kat, preferably before the Redcoats turn up in support of the Excise men and we are all carted off to serve a sentence.”
Kat closed her eyes on that and couldn’t find any objection to her mother’s logic. She glanced at Billy who had yet to take his eyes of the box of money.
“Alright. I will tell Harry tonight if we are all in agreement?”
Agnes and Billy nodded. Kat felt as though a huge weight had been removed from her shoulders and she visibly lightened at the thought of being free from some of her burden of responsibility.
“Now, let us count this and then we can work out how much we should look at spending on our farm,” Agnes suggested. She smiled at Billy as he began to reverently stroke the gold coins.
Later that night, as she closed the kitchen door behind her and made her way down the back alley toward the harbour, Kat felt considerably lighter and more carefree. The wind was fierce, and she ducked her head to protect her ears from the chill. Luckily she had dressed for the occasion and now wore an old pair of her father’s trousers, a work shirt and a heavy fisherman’s jumper beneath her jacket. The clothes were far too big for her but allowed her to put layer upon layer. It went some way toward protecting her from the worst of the stiff winds and kept her from freezing to death while she was knee deep in the sea. It also helped her to disguise her identity. That, and the flat cap she wore tugged as low on her brow as possible hid her body and her hair. Her heavy boots made it impossible to walk softly but at least they kept her feet warm.
Luckily, her father had been a fisherman and had been suitably attired for a life at sea. It was part of the reason why she had adopted his wardrobe. The clothing had been designed to keep a man warm, even when they were wet and suited her purposes perfectly.
Half way down the alley, she looked up and saw the faint twinkle of lights out at sea. She knew the cutter was out there, and the men in the rowing boats were already on their way to shore. She lengthened her stride she caught sight of the group of men at the back of the tavern and hurried in their direction.
Nobody spoke as they made their way down to the beach. Up on the cliffs she saw several of the look outs as they patrolled around. The horses were already harnessed up and waited with their carts at the ready. The white caps on the waves made her wrinkle her nose and she knew that tonight would not to be easy.
Tense nervousness hung in the air. It wasn’t lost on any of them that they would be at their most vulnerable while they dragged the cargo ashore. They had to concentrate or someone could die. Because of that, they had to rely heavily on the look-out stationed up top, and hope to God that the Excise men or Redcoats wouldn’t turn up.
They waited for several moments under the shelter of the ragged cliffs until the faint shadows of several boats appeared out of the darkness. The white caps dipped and swayed. The huge swell would knock a man off his feet and drag him out to sea. None of them made any attempt to go into the water and watched with baited breath while the rowers battled the huge waves as they pounded the shore.
The huge surge of the tide threw them rapidly toward shore only for a large wave to loom menacingly above them. Terrified cries came from the crew of one boat that was overwhelmed by the relentless force of the waves, and Kat watched in frozen horror as one boat disappeared from view altogether. There was nothing any of them could do. To wade into the water would mean death.
“Have they all gone?” Someone whispered.
“Aye.”
They all watched solemnly as the debris and assorted cargo began to wash up in the swell. Three other boats continued to battle the tide until, eventually, nearly an hour later they slammed into the sandy shore. No sooner had the boats landed than everyone converged around them and began to offload the cargo while the boats were kept steady. The rowers remained on board and didn’t speak to anyone, while the smugglers carried out their allotted tasks.
The carts were loaded and trundled off across the beach while the smaller cargo was ferried toward the small cove close to the village. It wouldn’t be protected if it rained but it could be moved to safety relatively swiftly if the promised storm released its deluge.
Kat grabbed two bolts of cloth and hurried across the beach. There were eight bolts in all, three on two boats and one on the other. She tried hard not to look at the gnarled faces of the sailors as they waited for their cargo to be removed, but curiosity drove her to give them one cursory look. She knew in the space of one look that they would cut her throat rather than acknowledge her presence and, with a shiver, she grabbed the next two bolts and hurried off.
Jonathan cursed fluidly and watched the spectacle before him with a sense of acute disappointment. He recognised at least four faces, not least of which was Harry from the tavern. Anger warred with disgust but he remained still and watchful as the smugglers emptied the vessels of cargo and pushed the boats back out to sea.
Shaking his head, he watched the so called ‘patrol’ amble slowly past. Why the hell they bothered heaven only knew. Jonathan had eased into place without a murmur and had watched the oaf amble past at least four times without even so much as a flicker of a look in Jonathan’s direction.
When the ‘watch’ had disappeared again, Jonathan returned to his careful study of each of the smugglers. There was a man in a jacket and heavy fisherman’s jumper who he couldn’t identify because of a large flat cap but other than that knew now that Harry, Mr Peat (Kat’s neighbour), Mr Smithers, Charlie and Norman were all involved. There were some others who he couldn’t get a good enough look at to identify but was fairly certain that he could find them in the tavern. Although there were a couple of women on the beach, he was greatly relieved that neither of them was Kat.
Had she been telling him the truth when she had said she knew nothing about the smugglers in the area? He wasn’t sure. He wanted to believe her but given that she worked in the village tavern it was highly unlikely that she hadn’t heard any rumours at least. The tavern was a hot bed of gossip in any village and Bentney on Sea was no exception. Still, at least she wasn’t down on the beach to drag illegal goods off the sand. The knowledge that she was not guilty made his job of putting a stop the smuggler’s activities considerably easier.
He couldn’t see any gang masters, and considered the possibility that this was just a village operation. Although he couldn’t condone any kind of smuggling: it was what he had joined the Star Elite to fight after all, he was at least sympathetic to the villagers’ desire to make more money that would ease their way through life. He had seen enough to be confident that there were no spies being brought into the country, but he couldn’t help but wonder how long that would last. This was a route into England, and it wouldn’t be long before the French took advantage of it if Jonathan didn’t shut the door and quickly.
He puffed out his cheeks he waited until the patrol passed again and eased backward. He ambled around the cliff top and kept to the shadows as he moved to stand a little way down the cliff path, deep in the shadows to watch the procession go through the village. Up at the top of the cliff he heard the soft snort of one of the horses and suspected that they were headed to the huge barn that sat in the middle of nowhere. He made a mental note to investigate it further tomorrow.
He watched Harry disappear through the rear door of the tavern with his first load of cargo before he headed back down to the beach for another load of barrels and boxes. In total silence, he stood for over an hour and watched various villagers return the goods to their houses and various hiding places around the village until eventually, all activity ceased. He was about to head up the cliff path when the flurry of movement to one side captured his attention. With a mental curse he drew the hood of his cloak to cover his face and pressed himself against the cliff wall. He had to climb awkwardly, backward and up, until he was off the path and plastered himself against the cliff wall as he watched eight men carry two bodies silently past. They had to watch their step on the narrow path, and try not to slip while they carried the unfortunate sailors who hadn’t made it through the swell. Out at sea, the solitary light was extinguished. Jonathan knew that the ship had turned around and was now headed back out to sea.
He had no idea how many more bodies had been washed ashore. Each boat had four crewmen inside. Two of crew the crewmen had just gone by. Were the men going to head back down to the beach to fetch the other two, or were they now lost as sea? Until he knew for certain, he couldn’t move and had to wait and see.
He watched one of the smugglers hurry toward the hill with a bolt of cloth in their hands. The flat cap rendered them impossible to identify. He cursed and watched them disappear into the alley that ran along the back of Kat’s house. The lights to her home were all out. Everyone was in bed. He was glad that she wasn’t involved, and could now set about drawing an end to the smuggling operation in the village without any risk to her freedom.
He stood perfectly still and watched the men pass by on their way back down to the beach. He had no idea where they had just put the bodies, and glanced up at the path that led to the top of the cliff. They hadn’t gone far, so the bodies must have been left somewhere for burial later. Did they intend to bury them in the churchyard, or one of the field’s nearby? He had a duty to investigate, and took advantage of the path being empty to begin his search for bodies and cargo.
If he had glanced back at the small alleyway that led from Kat’s house, he would have seen a strong gust of wind blow the hat clean off one smuggler’s head as they came out of the sheltered protection of the houses, and the long mane of the woman he loved fly in wild abandon in the stiff sea breeze.