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swordat her hip. Hester had explained that Jesslyn’s father, Dr. Chance, had taughtAbigail to handle a sword when she was a girl, in part so she could protectherself from an abusive father.

And the irony was not lost on him that he was being saved bya group of women, led by the one lady he’d left behind but never forgotten.

She marched beside him as they threaded their way up theheadland. The sea breeze tugged free a strand of her honey-colored hair. Robreached out to tuck it behind her ear. She blushed.

“Keep low and behind trees as much as you can when we comeout at the top,” Abigail advised from ahead of them. Tall, slender, and dressedin a long coat and breeches, he might have mistaken her for a lad except forthat cap of red hair styled in a bun at the back of her neck.

Hester passed Abigail’s advice back down the column.

“We should have waited for the trolls,” Mrs. Tully lamented.

The trees were bare enough, the bushes torn by the storm,that it wasn’t easy to sneak up on the Lodge. Still, all activity appeared tobe at the back, for they managed to reach the northeast corner near the kitchenaddition without seeing anyone.

The storm, however, had left its mark on his property. Morethan one tree was down or canted to one side, branches hanging. As he, Abigail,and Hester peered around the corner into the rear yard, he spotted more branchesspread across the grass, slowing the movements of those who were working tounload the ship.

Much as he decried the practice, he had to admire theiringenuity. As each item of contraband reached the headland, men stood ready toaccept it. Chalder stood in the middle of it all, directing a man here,ordering another there. Some carried the crates and boxes to waiting wagons,where they were secreted in false bottoms or tucked behind duty-paid goods.Others strapped tubs front and back, like ungainly mules, and took off at atrot out around the crooked wing. Those items must be for closer deliveries,and he could only wonder who else in the area was profiting from the work ofthe Lord of the Smugglers.

“We should check the kitchen,” Hester whispered. “See whathappened.”

Rob motioned the ladies to keep down, then edged back to thekitchen door and eased himself higher to peer through the window in it. Bascom,Monsieur Antoine, Eckman, Kinsey, and a number of maids were clustered aroundthe worktable in the center, Elizabeth, Lord Featherstone, and Mrs. Denby withthem. He opened the door and stepped inside.

They all tensed, then beamed as he came into the room,Hester, Abigail, and the Women’s Militia right behind.

“Well met, my lord,” Lord Featherstone said, coming to clasphis hand. He and Elizabeth had armed themselves with swords. They lookedsuspiciously like the ones that had hung on the wall in the formal withdrawingroom. And he could not quite accustom himself to seeing Mrs. Denby clutching amace.

She hurried to hug her daughter now, careful to keep thespiked ball away from her.

“What’s the news?” Rob asked. “Were you able to hand thempoison food?”

“Poison!” From the way the chef yelped the word, Rob mighthave thought he’d suggested that the fellow serve himself on a platter. “Myfood is not bad.”

Bascom pushed forward. “He means the laudanum, sir. And yes,they were eager to lap up whatever we could give them. But we haven’t noticedit slowing them down just yet.”

“It’s almost as if they were taking their time, waiting,”Elizabeth agreed.

“For the information they want to take back to France,” Rob realized.Then he frowned, glancing around. “Where is Donner?”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “Outside somewhere. Spying.”

“I believe he called it evaluation,” Lord Featherstone putin diplomatically.

“Then we have one more ally,” Abigail said. “What do youadvise, my lord?”

Rob looked back at her, and a shadow crossed the window, asmuggler, shoving another man in front of him.

Rob groaned. “Stand ready. I need to rescue someone.”

He darted out the door before any of them could stop him.

The smuggler had just reached the corner of the house. Robthrew himself at the fellow, knocking him off his feet and plummeting afterhim.

Mercer clutched his portfolio to his scrawny chest, staringdown at them. “See here! What is the meaning of this?”

“Run!” Rob ordered, wrestling with the smuggler. “You’re indanger.”

Pounding footsteps proved as much. Both Chalder and anothersmuggler were on him a moment later. The smuggler hauled him to his feet. Thefellow he’d knocked down surged up and smashed a fist into his gut. Robstruggled not to double as pain lanced him. In the distance, he thought heheard a cry, as if someone else had felt the blow as well.

“Enough!” Mercer shrieked, scurrying up to Chalder. “Youpromised no one would be hurt.”

Rob stared at him, unwilling to accept what he was hearing.

“He doesn’t know when to do as he’s told,” the landergrumbled.

Mercer snorted. “That much is true. I thought I had matterswell in hand, but this trip to London, my contacts informed me that he and thatDonner fellow are working for the War Office. Which is why I’ll be sailing withmy information this time.”

Chapter Nineteen

As Chalder ordered the other two smugglersback to work, Rob rounded on his steward. “You’re the one passing informationto the French?”

“That should be apparent.” Mercer shook his head, stilltreating Rob as if he were an unruly youth and the steward an Eton don. “You,of course, were not supposed to know about any of it. That will be a problem.”

“Your problem, not mine,” Chalder said. “I’ve enough toworry about now that he’s seen me and several of my men. We’ll have torelocate, and that won’t be easy.”

“I must relocate as well,” Mercer informed him. “I havealready cleared out my apartments in London. I have been staying in the villagethe last few days, waiting for the ship. I saw it coming in this morning andmanaged to pick my way up the headland. Now, I shall be leaving England for anice chateau on Lake Geneva.”

Chalder crossed his arms over his chest and widened hisstance. “Some of my men won’t like you turning tail.”

Mercer smirked. “You can do nothing to me. I

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