Smuggler's Kiss Read online

  ‘But I can’t wear these! I’d look completely wrong. Anyone would stare to see men’s boots with the gown I’ve just purchased!’

  Will groaned aloud. ‘For heaven’s sake, Isabelle, shoes don’t show under all those petticoats!’

  ‘They certainly do,’ I argued. ‘Every time you take a step. It was bad enough playing the ghost in the dark. I could never get away with it in the daytime.’

  I got my way, of course. Within another half an hour, I was seated in a coffee house with both a hat box and a shoe box on the seat beside me. When I wanted to peek inside the boxes while we waited for the food to be served, Will pushed my hand away. ‘Leave them!’ he hissed at me. ‘You’re a boy again now, if you please. Could you behave like one?’

  ‘How am I supposed to know how boys behave?’ I asked indignantly. ‘I know they’re rude and unmannered, but that’s about it.’

  ‘Well, they don’t constantly peep at their shopping and squeal over it,’ replied Will.

  ‘I wasn’t!’

  ‘Oh yes, you were!’

  Our bickering was interrupted by a waiter bringing us our food. He was an older man and bestowed a fatherly smile on me as he put my plate before me and said something I didn’t quite catch about a young lad. Will had ordered us ragoût with a glass of wine and light French pastries to follow. I ate eagerly, hungry after my morning’s activity.

  ‘So what happens next?’ I asked cheerfully. ‘I’m beginning to enjoy this smuggling lark.’

  Will rolled his eyes. ‘We’re going back to the dressmaker’s,’ he replied. ‘Once we have your gown we’ll go to the warehouse and select some lace.’

  ‘I don’t wish to appear in any way ungrateful,’ I said cautiously. ‘I’m delighted to have appropriate clothing once more. But why go to so much trouble and expense for one visit to the warehouse? If my disguise is good enough to fool the waiter, wouldn’t it do for purchasing lace as well?’

  ‘Not once you start sighing over the point work and showing all manner of feminine knowledge, it wouldn’t,’ said Will dryly. ‘You might look the part, but you’re not much of an actor.’

  ‘It’s a skill I haven’t had any use for up to now,’ I replied, unruffled by Will’s criticism.

  ‘As a matter of fact, it’s not so much the visit to the warehouse that you need the disguise for,’ Will told me. ‘It’s more disposing of the goods on the other side of the channel.’

  A small chill crept into my stomach at his words and I laid down my fork. ‘Tell me at once what it is I’m going to have to do,’ I asked.

  Will waved my question away. ‘Plenty of time for that later,’ he said lightly. ‘Enjoy your meal. French cuisine is so superior to English fare. You should make the most of it.’

  I pushed my plate away with a frown. ‘I find I’ve quite lost my appetite,’ I said.

  Will pushed it back to me. ‘No tantrums now, Isabelle,’ he said. ‘They don’t become you.’

  ‘Do you have sisters?’ I asked him.

  Will looked startled. ‘No. Why?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m very relieved to hear it. You would be an intolerable older brother. I’d strongly advise against having daughters too. You’d be an even worse father.’

  To my surprise, a deep flush suffused Will’s face and his eyes clouded before he looked away. I’d only been bantering and was surprised to see the effect my words had produced. ‘I’m sorry,’ I began. ‘I only … ’

  ‘Shall we go?’ asked Will, standing up abruptly. I had no choice but to gather my boxes together and follow him as he left the inn. We walked in uncomfortable silence to the dressmaker’s. There the green velvet gown was fitted once more and a couple of last adjustments made. I put on my new shoes and matching hat and emerged from the fitting room, a young lady again at last.

  I walked out, holding myself very straight and grand, hoping for a word of approval from Will. Sure enough he was waiting and greeted me with a smile. It was a broad smile that didn’t reach his eyes and I suspected at once he was playing a part. ‘Magnifique, ma coeur!’ he cried when he saw me. I thought this was overdoing it more than a little. The gown was nothing out of the ordinary and I certainly wasn’t his dear heart. When he came towards me with outstretched hands I stopped short, unsure what to expect. Will caught both my hands in his, kissed them and then kissed me briefly on the cheek.

  He certainly wasn’t kissing me for the pleasure of it. Why would he? So I refrained from slapping him and forced myself to smile up at him complacently instead. From the corner of my eye I noticed that both the dressmakers were watching us with almost tearful expressions on their faces. As Will slid an arm around me and embraced me, one of them actually dabbed her eyes with a pocket handkerchief.

  Will tore himself away from me with apparent reluctance and completed the purchase of the gown and a very bright red woollen cloak. I looked at it in some trepidation, but said nothing until we were out of the shop.

  ‘I do hope that isn’t for me,’ I said once we were on the pavement once more, my hand drawn through his arm as the two ladies watched us from the shop window. I indicated the neat brown paper parcel now tied with string in his free hand. ‘I can’t imagine any colour that would go less well with this gown.’

  ‘It is for you,’ he said. ‘But I didn’t buy it with fashion in mind. For this too we have a use.’

  ‘I see. And may I ask what the … the kissing thing was about?’ I asked, injecting as much revulsion as possible into my words. I removed my hand from his arm at the same time. We were now out of sight of the shop.

  Will laughed; a more natural laugh. His sudden restraint was fading again. ‘I told the good ladies that we were engaged. It was a very affecting story.’ He saw outrage on my face.

  ‘I had to tell them something!’ he said and had the grace to look a little sheepish. ‘To explain the scandalous way you were dressed, you know. I spun them a fabulous tale about your wicked guardian who wasn’t really your guardian and how we escaped from the house at the dead of night, with you up before me on the horse. That’s why you needed to be dressed in boy’s clothes. We are about to be married, you know.’

  ‘I wouldn’t marry you for the world,’ I told him. ‘Your story is a disgraceful lie from beginning to end!’

  Will shrugged. ‘Tell me your real story and maybe I won’t need to make up lies.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The purchase of lace was more exciting than I expected. I justified my presence by asking to have each roll unrolled fully and discovering that on some, only the first section of lace was top quality. Thereafter, the work was shoddy and would have lost us both customers and money. The merchant was grumpy about being caught attempting to cheat us, but Will drove a very good bargain as a result and left the warehouse much lighter in mood.

  ‘Well done, Isabelle,’ he praised me as we walked back to the ship, two errand boys following us, carrying all the goods we had purchased. ‘Good work.’

  ‘Thank you. I imagine the merchants try all sorts of tricks with the goods.’

  ‘Many are honest; some will try to cheat you. There are many ploys: a common one is sampling a barrel of brandy. Traders will sometimes offer a taste straight from the barrel. It tastes excellent and you are convinced to buy. But what you’ve tasted comes from a small compartment at the top of the barrel. The rest is rough enough to strip your insides right out only you don’t discover until it’s too late. That’s a ploy used for contraband on both sides of the channel.’

  I wrinkled my nose in thought. ‘It seems a short-sighted way of doing business,’ I observed. ‘You wouldn’t go back to a dealer who had cheated you once.’

  ‘Absolutely right. We work on building up trusted contacts. And on being trustworthy ourselves. It’s better for trade in the long term. But there are always a few rogues about trying to make themselves a quick fistful of guineas. And that isn’t limited to the contraband trade.’

  ‘What is my next part in this?’ I asked.
‘In what way will I be part of this trustworthy illegal trade?’

  I should of course have known that whatever my ‘next part’ was, it would be embarrassing and awkward. Why else would it be delegated to me? I stood in my cabin in my shift, looking at the neatly-folded quantities of costly lace and didn’t know where to start.

  There was a knock at the door. ‘Go away!’ I shouted assuming it was Will.

  ‘Are you nearly ready?’ asked Gentle Jacob’s voice mildly. ‘We’re almost in the port.’

  ‘Sorry, Jacob,’ I replied more politely. ‘Nowhere near ready.’ The ship swayed and tilted under my feet as we swung round to negotiate the harbour entrance.

  It was going to be an easy matter for me to walk off the ship and into the town carrying a large quantity of contraband lace, Will had assured me. I wasn’t convinced.

  I unfolded a large length of lace and wrapped it experimentally around one leg. As soon as I let it go, it sagged down around my ankle. I needed some way of fastening it. I picked up my garters from beside my bunk and tried again, tying it in place. That worked better.

  I wrapped lace around my waist. It wasn’t going to be a flattering look. There was another rap at the door; less polite this time.

  ‘Isabelle, we’re running out of time,’ said Will’s voice imperatively. ‘We need you ashore the moment we’ve tied up. We can’t risk the ship being rummaged while the lace is still aboard.’

  I went to the door and peered out cautiously. Jacob, Will, and Harry were all waiting outside and looked around eagerly to see how their idea had worked. I shook my head at them. ‘It’s too difficult,’ I told them. ‘It’s going to be so bulky and I can’t tie it on to myself without an extra hand.’

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to manage alone,’ said Will. ‘We’ll have to help you.’

  I blushed. ‘That would scarcely be decent,’ I objected.

  ‘There’s no time to trouble ourselves over that,’ said Will impatiently. ‘We’re almost in. And you’ve clearly forgotten that I’ve undressed you once already.’ He barged past me in through the door, ignoring the blush that this brought to my cheek.

  ‘I don’t know how you can be so ungentlemanly as to remind me of that,’ I said. Will laughed. The other men hesitated just outside the door, more considerate than Will, or perhaps just more embarrassed.

  ‘I’ll need one other to help,’ said Will. ‘Jacob, come on in and close the door.’

  ‘If only we had some other women on board,’ I said, horrified at being semi-naked before two men.

  ‘I thank God we have not,’ said Will, undoing the lace on my leg. ‘They would be horribly in the way. This is far too loose, Isabelle. It will fall off before you are halfway to the shop.’

  ‘I know. I couldn’t get it to stay.’

  But Will could. Before long, he and Jacob had trussed me up like a chicken. They pushed and turned me this way and that, lacking the care and politeness of dressmakers or maids. I had lace wrapped in layers around my middle, around my bust and draped over my hips like petticoats. My arms and legs were bulging like bolsters, leaving me scarcely any movement in them. I stood like a statue, as unwieldy and far less elegant.

  ‘Now for your hoop and gown,’ said Will, picking them up. ‘Good thing I asked the dressmakers to make them adjustable.’

  I looked at him suspiciously as he tied the tapes and buckles of the hoop around my waist. ‘You had better tell me the worst,’ I said. ‘What lies did you tell them to explain that?’

  Will merely shook his head and continued to fasten the hoop. But Jacob started to chuckle; a rich bubble of laughter deep in his chest.

  ‘You might as well tell her, lad,’ he said. ‘It’s a story as will get out sooner or later.’

  I looked sharply at Will who looked very sheepish indeed. ‘I told them you were expecting a petit paquet,’ he confessed.

  ‘You told them … ’ My voice failed with the enormity of what he had said. I lifted cold hands to my suddenly burning cheeks. ‘No, Will, how could you? I will never be able to show my face there again. What must they have thought of me?’

  Will threw my gown over my head. As he pulled it straight, I found I couldn’t meet his eyes. Had the women assumed it was his child I was expecting? How unbearably shameful. ‘And you’ve told everyone on board The Invisible what you told them. And they’ve all been laughing behind my back for days?’

  ‘Only a little,’ Will assured me unconvincingly. He straightened up and tilted my chin up so that I was forced to meet his eyes. ‘Forgive me?’ he asked. When Will dropped his taunting, there was something disarming about him.

  I nodded briefly, surprised by the sudden impulse to cry this small sign of kindness caused. It caught me as I was already feeling upset; that must be why. I turned my face away to hide my emotion.

  ‘There,’ said Will, giving my gown and petticoats a last tweak. ‘I said I’d never be lady’s maid for you again, and here I am arranging your finery. But I think you’ll do now.’

  I looked down at myself. ‘I look horribly stout,’ I remarked, noting that I barely had a waist and my arms were bulging. But the main quantity of lace was over my hips and legs. I could understand now why Will had insisted on a dress with a hoop. It concealed it all admirably.

  ‘Now, listen close,’ said Jacob, leaning back against the cabin wall, arms folded across his chest. ‘The Revenue officer ain’t allowed to rummage a lady. So you should be safe. But that might not stop him being suspicious of us in general and of you in partic’lar. So you look out for him.’

  ‘Will it be the same man as at Poole?’ I asked anxiously. ‘He would smell a rat at once, surely, to see me dressed as a girl.’

  ‘No, it won’t be. We’ve thought of that. This is a different stretch of coast and under a different section of the guard. There should be no danger of being connected with … whoever it is you really are.’

  I nodded. ‘Very well. I’m ready. I think.’

  Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in my stomach. But I wasn’t going to reveal my anxiety. We’d run a cargo of brandy onto Studland beach late last night in high winds, and the whole crew had shown such bravery, battling the breakers and darkness. I wasn’t willing to show less courage than they had done.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  We emerged from the cabin onto the deck and Jacob accompanied me to the gangplank. ‘You know where you’re going and what you’re to say there, don’t you?’

  ‘Will has explained,’ I said.

  ‘Remember, we’ll be close by you, even if you can’t see us. Walk confidently and hold your head high.’

  ‘I will,’ I said and smiled, despite my nerves.

  The moment the mooring ropes were tied and the gangplank was laid, I walked across it to the quayside.

  Customs men were already heading towards the ship, and one in a blue coat cast me a curious glance as he walked by. I looked straight ahead, feigning not to notice.

  It wasn’t easy to walk, all bundled up as I was. I felt heavy and cramped. I tried to walk with my natural stride, but couldn’t quite manage it. It was fortunate that it was winter now, and cold today, or I would have been uncomfortably warm. Last night’s storm had dropped, but a sharp wind still swept the quay, making my hoop sway and bounce around me.

  I felt everyone’s eyes were on me. They must see through this ludicrous disguise and guess what I was up to. But when I gathered the courage to glance around me, no one was looking my way at all. Men were loading and unloading cargoes from various ships, women were walking with their children, and couples were pacing along arm in arm. None of them spared me a glance.

  Feeling slightly more confident, I walked on towards the town. As I entered the first of the cobbled streets, a young man fell into step beside me. A quick look at him made my heart jump into my mouth. He was wearing the blue coat and cap of the riding officers. He was the man who had passed me near the ship, and been about to board. He must have followed me.

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p; ‘Good morning, Miss,’ he said, doffing his hat to me politely.

  I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. ‘Good … good morning, officer,’ I stuttered. Badly done, I told myself fiercely. Showing him I was afraid made me look guilty. I had to be more confident.

  ‘Nippy this morning, isn’t it?’ the officer said, keeping pace with me easily, though I’d lengthened my stride. He was a young man, mid twenties perhaps, with a moustache that would benefit from a few more years’ maturity.

  ‘It’s very cold,’ I agreed. ‘Easy to tell that winter’s coming.’

  ‘And where might you be going this morning?’ he asked in a chatty, relaxed manner. ‘Seeking amusement in the taverns perhaps, or going shopping?’

  ‘Oh, just a little shopping, sir,’ I replied. Could it be that he was simply polite and friendly, passing the time of day? My fears and my instincts told me differently. There was a sharpness in his eyes as he glanced at my clothes. I breathed steadily and worked at not panicking. He’s not allowed to search me, I reminded myself, recollecting Gentle Jacob’s words on the subject. By law, women are exempt from rummaging. It wasn’t hard to see why. Otherwise every officer who wished to get his hands on a pretty maid could do so. Somehow though, this knowledge wasn’t a great deal of comfort.

  ‘May I enquire as to your name?’ asked the young man politely. ‘I am Lieutenant Oswald, by the way.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ I lied, thinking swiftly. ‘I’m Miss Bryden.’

  I coloured as I told him such a barefaced lie. Miss Bryden had been my last governess, and was the first name that popped into my mind. Still, at least I hadn’t blurted out my real name.

  ‘Well, Miss Bryden. As we’re agreed it’s an unseasonable day, and the weather uncommonly chill, will you allow me to invite you for a warming drink in this charming local hostelry?’ He indicated the inn we were passing as he spoke. I caught my breath. How was I supposed to get out of this one?