Alan found his cousin in his study, bent over a crudely lettered sheet of paper. “Philip,” he said, “you must tell me what is happening. It is perfectly obvious that something is afoot.”
Philip looked surprised and uneasy. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I think you do.” Alan used the voice he had found so effective with his troops. “Those ruffians we saw in the village, what are they up to?”
“Ruffians?” Philip swallowed. “You mean the villagers? I really don’t think you should…”
“Miranda encountered one of them in your cellars, threatening your butler,” interrupted Alan.
Philip turned white and made a strangled sound, then stood up behind the desk, his arms very rigid and his fists clenched. “What?”
Alan simply gazed at him. Philip stood there shaking for a moment, then the anger seemed to go out of him, and he sank back into his chair. “In my very house?” he murmured. “What am I going to do?”
“You are going to tell me everything,” Alan answered, in a calm, commanding voice that seemed to comfort Philip. “And then we shall put our heads together and make things right.”
“You make it sound easy,” was his cousin’s answer. “But it’s a deuce of a coil, Alan.”
“It must be. You’ve been sour as an unripe plum since I arrived. Tell me.”
Philip considered him for a moment, then gestured toward the chair on the other side of his desk. “Smuggling,” he replied simply.
“Ah. Fairly common on these coasts, isn’t it?”
Philip shrugged. “Perhaps. A ship or two. A few kegs of good French brandy. But this is more than that. It’s a systematic operation, and not just local men.”
“Cashiered soldiers,” said Alan.
“Yes. You spotted some of them in the village, the leaders of a gang that is terrorizing the countryside. I don’t even know how many there are. They have been sending word to their fellows in London and other places. A few more arrive every week. They have just about taken over the closest village, and they are bringing in ships of contraband whenever the seas are favorable. They have partners in the Midland cities who sell the stuff and ship out their own goods illegally.”
“The authorities?” asked Alan.
Philip put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes as if they ached. “Of course my first thought was to call them. Forbes begged me not to.”
“Forbes?” Alan’s voice conveyed his incredulity.
Philip straightened and met his puzzled gaze squarely. “You must understand that the servants here, and the villagers, were my only companions growing up, Alan. I hated school, and made few friends there. I was always longing to come home. I love this house, and this place.”
Alan nodded. “But why should Forbes…?”
“His nephew is involved. So is the kitchenmaid’s brother, and two of the grooms. There was smuggling here before these men came—the odd, insignificant cargo—the kind of thing you mentioned. At first, the newcomers played on that, and on some discontent hereabouts. We aren’t a wealthy region. Very few of the villagers found it easy to refuse a bit of extra cash.”
“And, after they were in deep enough, things started to change,” said Alan.
“Exactly. While I hesitated, reluctant to have childhood friends taken in charge, these ruffians increased their numbers and consolidated their power. They are nearly invincible now. They learned organization and intimidation in the army.” Philip sounded bitter.
“Perhaps,” replied Alan. “But surely you are not still hanging back?”
His cousin’s face fell into grim lines. “They have threatened Rosalind. I have been told that if any revenue cutters or excise men are so much as seen in the area, she will pay for it.” He bent his head again. “I live in…terror of a commonplace coastal patrol. I ride out every day to check the countryside. I have wondered what I would do if I actually encountered an excise man. I dreamed once that I killed him.” His face, when he raised it to Alan, was stark with anguish.
“But, Philip,” said Alan kindly, “why not simply send Rosalind to stay with her family? Her sister can accompany her on the journey, now that she is here with you. And then you and I will put an end to this petty tyranny.”
Philip slumped. “Of course that was my first thought. But Rosalind refused to go. She has been…unwell. She is increasing. Her parents are abroad, and her married sister is fully occupied nursing her father-in-law. Rosalind wouldn’t hear of visiting anyone else, and the only way I could convince her would be to reveal the truth.”
“Well then.” Alan was a bit impatient.
“If I tell her, she will insist on staying with me, or urge me to leave as well. And I cannot abandon my responsibilities here.”
“Perhaps you misjudge Rosalind’s…”
“I know her! You do not.”
Alan had to concede this, and he also saw that his cousin’s romantic temperament had inflamed him to something near hysteria during the weeks he had wrestled with this problem. Alan had seen similar states in battle. Philip would have to be handled carefully.
“Rosalind could be protected,” began Alan.
“I refuse to take the chance!” Philip almost shouted. “You say one of the devils was seen in my own cellar. Do you think I will risk my wife and child with odds such as that?”
Alan watched him, his eyes full of sympathy and pity. “No. No, that’s too much to ask.”
His cousin fell back in his chair, relieved and exhausted.
“But still, Philip, something must be done.”
“I have thought of little else for weeks. I have racked my brain for an idea that does not expose Rosalind. If you can assure that, I will do whatever you like.”
Alan frowned at the carpet. “The villagers are no longer sympathetic to them.”
“No. With a few exceptions they would like nothing better than to be rid of all the outsiders. There have been incidents—wives, daughters.” Philip’s lips twisted with anger and frustration.
“So, if we could manage something, they would support us?”
“If we can guarantee their families’ safety? Yes.”
Alan nodded. “I shall have to think. Would Forbes’s nephew, or another of the villagers, give us information, do you think? Details of their plans?”
“Those connected with my household are under constant suspicion. Lately, they are not even permitted to visit their relatives here without witnesses. It would be difficult to manage.”
“We might use a code.”
“I don’t want to see these people hurt, Alan.”
“We would have to be careful,” agreed his cousin. Alan’s mind was working furiously, and his spirits were soaring. This problem brought back all the instincts and skills he had developed during years of war, and the challenge exhilarated him. He had no doubt he could find a solution and carry it out. Had he not helped beat the French? This was a handful of crude bullies. He would soon show them their mistakes. “Where is the nearest military garrison?” he asked.
“We cannot go to the army,” protested Philip. “I have just told you…”
“You have. And I have understood. I shall do nothing hasty or obvious, cousin.”
Philip hesitated a moment longer, then he said, “There is a small detachment in the fort at Lindisfarne, up the coast.”
“Hah. And what is Lindisfarne?”
“An island. There was once a famous monastery there, in ruins now.”
“Ruins?” Alan’s blue eyes gleamed. “The sort that people go to visit?”
“Ye-es.” Philip watched him with a frown. “It is widely known. There is bathing, too, for those hardy enough to try the North Sea.”
“Perfect. I’m sure Miranda would like to see such a place. You must organize an expedition there as soon as possible.”
“What do you intend?”
“Why, to view a ruin,” replied Alan with a smile. “And to escort your charming sister-in-law all over it. And Rosalind, too, naturally.”
“Rosalind is to know nothing of this!” said Philip sharply. “You are not to speak of it.”
“Of course not. Not to Rosalind, or anyone.”
Philip relaxed slightly. “But if you are seen contacting the army…”
“Philip, you must trust me a little. I shall put no one in danger. I give you my word.”
“Not purposely, you won’t. I know that.”
“You have let these petty ruffians intimidate you,” objected Alan. “I know their kind. Don’t worry.”
But, seeing the excited gleam in his eyes, and the smile playing about his lips, Philip began to sincerely regret telling his cousin the truth. He recalled Alan’s reckless behavior in London and was even more uneasy. “Swear to me you will always act to protect my family and friends,” he said.
“Of course,” replied Alan, but his expression was not reassuring.