The Foundling Bride. Helen Dickson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ the wind was blowing and the sea was choppy. Conditions were perfect for the run. The night was dark, with only a half-moon showing now and then between heavy clouds. Lowena didn’t like being on the cliffs after dark, but Edward had left her with no choice.

      Edward Carberry! The mere thought of him had the power to fill her with fear and hatred. It was hard to believe that a man of such high standing in the community, and indeed the whole of Cornwall, would involve himself in the illegal and highly dangerous practice of smuggling. But since taking up employment as a servant at Tregarrick, Lowena had come to realise that her employer was clever and as slippery as an eel—and notorious for his ruthlessness.

      It was as though smuggling gave him a much needed outlet for adventure, and the danger provided heightened his emotions. He also seemed to take great delight in cocking a snook at the Government in faraway London, for the exorbitant taxes imposed on the people of Cornwall to fund its wars and other schemes that did not concern the county.

      As soon as she had started work at Tregarrick, after Izzy’s death, Lowena had caught his eye. When she’d resisted his advances, he had taken a perverted delight in drawing her into his ring of smugglers. She had courageously stood up to him, and told him she wanted no part of it, but he had left her in no doubt that if she did not comply she would have to seek employment elsewhere.

      With no family to support her and nowhere else to go, Lowena had had no choice but to do as she was told.

      Had his brother Marcus been at home then things would have been different. In all the years she had known him Lord Carberry’s younger half-brother had shown her nothing but kindness and consideration. He had often come to see Izzy when he was home from school, to sample some of the wonderful appetising food that she’d put on her table.

      How he’d loved to talk! And how Lowena had loved to listen, with her eyes wide and nothing to contribute but her admiration of this handsome youth. Tenderness still shook her every time she thought of him. He would not have allowed Lord Carberry to use her in this manner.

      Her heart warmed as she thought of him now. Izzy had told her that Mr Marcus had all the characteristics his half-brother had always envied and resented. Lowena remembered that his features were quiet and intent, that they were also strong and noble—in all he was taller and significantly more handsome and manly than Edward Carberry. Edward’s features were fine—his eyes a watery blue, his hair ash-blond.

      It wasn’t the first time Lowena had been dragged from her bed when there was a run. She knew the routine. She was positioned at the highest point along this part of the coastline, and it was her responsibility to light the beacon of furze should trouble appear. Someone else was guarding the narrow track that ran down to the cove—the one that led to the high moor, which was dominated by a bleak, hostile landscape and where no one lingered longer than was necessary.

      The wind snapped at her hair and she shuddered as she looked down into the cove, unmoving, watchful, staring into the darkness, hoping and praying that all would go to plan so she didn’t have to light the furze.

      A cloud moved off the moon, shedding light on the small horseshoe cove. This was where, on a terrible stormy night, a ship had once found itself at the mercy of the wind, the sea and the rocks—where it had floundered and broken up. Wreckers had soon been drawn to the stricken vessel, before the customs men had appeared on the scene. They had looted the vessel, killing without mercy anyone who had survived.

      It was said that on certain nights the souls of the dead could be heard on the wind, as if they refused to move on and continued to haunt the environs of the cove.

      Ever since that night people had said the cove was cursed, and no one came here—which was to the smugglers’ advantage. It was a haven for smugglers—if they knew how to pilot a boat among the reefs.

      Two strings of horses were already on the beach. They were hardy workhorses, along with specially adapted saddles which could carry the heavy casks of liquor and chests of tea.

      The men in the boats were professional seamen, the shore party less so, being made up mainly of agricultural labourers and miners. A successful run could earn them as much as two weeks working on the land, and it was with Lord Carberry’s approval that they brought with them carts and horses wherever they could be found, to assist in the landing.

      Edward’s estate manager, William Watkins, was keeping his eye on proceedings and giving orders to the men on the beach.

      Looking out to sea, Lowena saw a light. It flashed three times. This was the signal indicating to those on shore that the ship they were expecting was there for the rendezvous, hidden in the darkness out at sea. The men in the boats began rowing towards the light in the treacherous waters, careful to avoid the submerged rocks and soon being swallowed up in the darkness.

      The suspense was unbearable to Lowena as she paced back and forth along the cliff edge. It was a cold night and her heart was racing, her eyes blinded by gusts of wind.

      After about an hour or more the boat returned. The men jumped out carrying their oars and placed them on the sand. They worked swiftly, unloading the cargo with silent speed and loading it into carts or securing it onto the horses and leading them up the narrow valley which opened into the cove.

      Some of the smuggled goods would be taken up-country to Devon or beyond, and some would be stored locally, to be sold in the community. Lord Carberry had established contacts to shift the goods.

      As the horses began to move off with their heavy, lucrative load, Lowena gave a sigh of relief and yawned. At last she could return to the house and her bed.

      Suddenly something made her turn her head and look along the cliff. Straining her eyes in the darkness, she felt cold fear grip her. Her heart almost stopped when she saw the silhouette of a man, watching the activities below. His feet were slightly apart, his back straight, his hands clasped behind him. Instinctively she shrank into the shadows. How long had he been there? What had he seen? It was too late now to light the beacon.

      Holding her breath, Lowena slowly edged towards some tall shrubs, hoping he hadn’t seen her. When she looked again the man had gone. Her gaze scanned the blackness all around her, but there was no sight of him. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, she turned and headed for home. Moving swiftly along the path, she felt her foot stumble against a stone and only just managed to keep herself from falling.

      Straightening herself, she came face to face with a tall figure in the uniform of a soldier. A dragoon—he had to be a dragoon. At the sudden appearance of this ghostly apparition, looming large and menacing, she trembled with fear. A bolt of terror shot through her and she stood rooted to the spot, unable to move or to speak. When he stepped closer to her she pulled herself together, and with no thought other than to escape turned to run. But the man caught her arm in a vice-like grip.

      ‘Don’t be a fool,’ he growled. ‘Stay where you are.’

      Stunned and stricken dumb, Lowena heard that low, deep voice and thought she was in some kind of nightmare. She spun back, her eyes wide, staring up at him through the tangled mass of her hair. Her heart was beating hard and seemed to roar in her ears. The man towered over her, and in the darkness she could just make out his face.

      She felt herself drawn to him, as if by some overwhelming magnetic force, and for an instant something stirred inside her. She experienced a feeling of strange, slinking unease—the unease of shadowy familiarity—and she shivered with a sense of deep foreboding.

      The blood drained from her face. Recognition hit her and she gasped, thunderstruck.

      It СКАЧАТЬ