“Henry? Come quickly!”

Henry sprang to attention, his desire to have a short rest under a rather large oak tree gone in an instant.

“Uncle? What is it?”

“The men have apprehended someone,” came the hasty reply. “Hurry now.”

Adrenaline shot through Henry’s veins as he threw a leg over the horse his uncle had brought him, following his uncle down onto the beach with only the moonlight as their guide. Beyond him, much further along the coast, he could see a few orange lights of the men with torches. There were shouts and cries coming towards him on the wind, making his entire body tighten with anticipation.

“Do we know where he came from?” he shouted, as his uncle rode alongside him. “How did they capture him?”

“Single boat out in the middle of the sea,” his uncle replied, his horse trotting along the sand. “They caught him with boxes filled with contraband. I just want to know where he was heading with it all.”

Henry frowned, looking over at his uncle. “You mean, he wasn’t coming to the shore?”

His uncle shot him a look. “No, of course not. We have patrols here. He was making his way from one of the caves out towards somewhere else, although I don’t know where.”

His horse tossed his head, clearly feeling the urgency that filled Henry. Some of the caves only filled with water during high tide, which meant that a man with a boat could only get in and out during certain times. But Henry was sure they’d searched as many caves as they could get to, so why hadn’t they spotted all this contraband? Where had the man been hiding it?

“I have as many questions as you,” his uncle shouted, as they drew nearer the men surrounding the prisoner. “Let’s just hope we can get some answers out of him.”

Henry threw his reins to another man and jumped down from his horse, striding forward into the crowd to see the smuggler. His heart jumping in his chest, he hurried after his uncle, expecting to see some large, burly man who had been forcibly tied down.

Instead, he saw a small, wiry man with a black eye and a scowl on his face. He had his hands tied behind his back but still remained standing, his short black hair in complete disarray.

“This is the smuggler?” he murmured, as his Uncle Roderick glanced back at him.

“Yes, this is the man,” his uncle replied, turning around to dismiss some of the men surrounding them. Waiting until they had gone a short distance away – leaving only himself, the smuggler, Henry and three other men who were guarding the man, he turned back to the smuggler and smiled.

“So, you finally got caught.”

The smuggler snorted, his lip curling. “I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

“I think you do,” Roderick replied, calmly. “I’m afraid there’s a heavy price for smuggling round these parts.”

The smuggler did not seem to care, rolling his eyes and sighing heavily. The flames of the torches threw shadows across his face, making him appear almost malevolent. Henry felt himself grow angry at the man’s disrespect of his uncle, at his lack of consideration for what he had done in smuggling and stepped forward.

“There isn’t going to be an easy way out,” he snarled, his hands tightening. “Tell us what we want to know and we might just be able to save you from the gallows.”

The man turned his beady eyes on Henry, a mirthful look on his face. “Do you really think the threat of gallows is going to scare me?”

Henry’s fists clenched tightly, but his uncle stepped forward, dragging the smuggler’s gaze back to him. “I suggest you start talking, my man, otherwise there will be no gallows for you.” The sound of a sword being pulled slowly from its scabbard met Henry’s ears and the smuggler’s smile began to fade.

“I will do what I must to get to the truth from you,” Roderick said, slowly, his sword now pointed at the man’s throat. “I do not mean to kill you, for that is for the courts, but I will make your life exceedingly painful if you do not talk to me.”

Henry watched as the tip of the sword was dragged over the man’s throat, leaving a thin line of red. The smuggler’s throat worked for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he looked back at Roderick as though wondering whether or not he would truly do as he said.

“I would not question him,” Henry said, softly. “He means every word.”

The smuggler’s eyes lit. “Then, if I talk, you’re to save me from the gallows.”

Henry snorted. “You’re not in a position to – ”

“Very well,” Roderick interrupted, his eyes fixed on the smuggler. “Tell us what we want to know and I assure you that your life will be spared, although I cannot imagine that prison is a much better prospect.”

The smuggler grinned. “At least there’s a chance of escaping from that place.”

Roderick shrugged, his sword now down by his side. “You have my word as a gentleman. Now, tell me about your contraband. Where were you headed with it?”

The smuggler studied Roderick for a moment, before shrugging. “I’m to take it from one cave to another. I have only done it once before.”

“A green boy, then,” Roderick muttered, darkly. “Who employs you?”

The smuggler shook his head. “I don’t rightly know. We don’t use names.”

“But there must be a man above you!” Henry exclaimed, wishing he could make the man speak more clearly. “What is his name?”

The man shrugged. “He’s just the captain. Like I said, we don’t use names.”

“Then what’s the name of your ship?” Roderick asked, sounding a little frustrated. “Every ship has a name.”

The smuggler laughed, shaking his head. “You don’t know much, do you? The ship signals us with lights and so on but nothing more than that. It’s dark, you see.” The mocking tone of the smuggler’s voice made Henry want to shake him so hard that his teeth rattled.

“Then where were you meant to be taking the contraband?” Roderick asked, slowly. “Tell me the truth, man, or it will be all the worse for you.”

There was a short pause. “I was meant to be taking it to a cave three along from the shore,” the smuggler said, quietly. “It has to be high tide so that I can get in with my boat.”

“But high tide means the caves will fill with water!” one of the men behind Henry said, sounding astonished. “That’s suicide!”

The smuggler snorted with derision. “You don’t know much about these caves. Not all of them are as they seem.”

“Meaning?” Henry said, surging forward to jab hard at the man’s chest.

The man’s sharp eyes bored into Henry’s. “Meaning that there’s more to them than meets the eye.”

Henry wanted to ask more, wanted to demand that the man tell him everything, but a sharp look from Roderick stopped him.

“I know that Lord Slate is involved somehow,” Roderick said, turning back to the smuggler. “What has he got to do with all this? It cannot be a coincidence that the caves you use are almost directly beneath his estate.”

A mulish look came over the smuggler’s face, his expression growing resolute. “I can’t say I’d know much about that,” he replied, firmly. “I do what I am told, and that’s all.”

“So you’re telling us you don’t know a thing about Lord Slate’s involvement?” Henry repeated, rolling his eyes. “How come I don’t believe you?”

Shrugging, the smuggler looked away. “Believe what you want.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Roderick declared, firmly. “Take him away, please. I have a few things to discuss with Henry.”

The other men took the smuggler back towards the village, no doubt to hand him over to the authorities, leaving Henry and Roderick standing on the sand.

“There’s more that he knows,” Henry muttered, thoroughly exasperated. “I know that Lord Slate is involved but the man won’t say another word!”

“Unfortunately, that’s to be expected,” his uncle replied, with a sigh. “Lord Slate is a powerful man and, even though we’ve promised the smuggler that he won’t lose his life, he’s probably aware that Lord Slate could arrange for it to happen if he says too much. That’s why he’s keeping things to himself.”

“But you have no doubt that Lord Slate is involved?”

His uncle sighed heavily. “No doubt whatsoever, I’m afraid. The smuggler’s reluctance to speak only confirmed it.”

Henry ran one hand through his hair, suddenly caught up with thoughts of Jacintha. “I must go back to London and speak to Jacintha at once.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Roderick asked, with a slight frown. “We have nothing concrete.”

“But we will,” Henry replied at once, a sense of urgency filling him. “And soon, surely?”

Roderick nodded, turning to gaze out across the sparkling waves. “I will have to do another search of those caves, although much more thoroughly. Whatever he meant in saying there was more to them than they appeared means there’s something we’ve missed.”

Henry nodded, his stomach churning. “And when can we search?”

“Not until low tide, I’m afraid, and certainly not until daylight,” Roderick answered, rubbing his forehead. “And, on top of which, we must make sure not to alert the rest of the smugglers.”

“Won’t they know we’ve caught one of their men?”

“They might,” Roderick admitted, “but we have to act with all secrecy regardless. If you are to return to London to speak with Jacintha, then you must do so privately. It would not do for Lord Slate himself to become aware of what we are doing.”

“I quite understand,” Henry replied, reaching out to shake his uncle’s hand. “I shall return to you as soon as I can. It will only be a conversation in London before I come back to you.”

“Make sure you rest,” his uncle warned, a slight smile playing around his mouth. “I would not have you collapsing on the road!”

Despite himself, Henry chuckled. “No, indeed. Thank you, uncle. I shall see you soon.”

Henry chose to take the carriage back to London instead of riding, even though he knew he would be faster on horseback. The truth was, he was so tired that he thought he might fall asleep on horseback so had opted to take the carriage. He had fallen asleep almost at once, despite the worry and anxiety growing within him.

The rumbling of the carriage wheels over the cobbled streets of London woke him at once and, within a few minutes of awakening, the carriage had stopped outside his parents’ home. Clambering down quickly, he hurried inside and was greeted by a rather surprised looking butler.

“I appear rather disheveled, I know,” he said, grinning at the butler. “I am not staying, but would appreciate a change of clothes.”

“And a bath?” the butler suggested, one eyebrow lifting. “I know journeys can be rather tiring.”

Henry paused for a moment, wondering whether he really looked or smelled as bad as the butler was quietly suggesting, before shrugging and agreeing to a bath. After all, he had been out on the beach for most of the night and then had traveled back to London with not a thought for how he looked. He could not appear at Jacintha’s door without looking a little more distinguished.

“Thank you,” he agreed, making his way up to his room. “That would be wonderful.”

A couple of hours later and Henry was washed, dressed and fed and certainly feeling a little more respectable than he had been. The urge to go and speak to Jacintha practically drove him towards the front door – only for the voice of his sister to stop him.

“Henry?”

He turned and smiled, still urgently wanting to excuse himself. “Claudia, good afternoon. Apologies for the short visit but I am only come to speak to Jacintha.”

“Jacintha?” she replied, frowning. “Whatever are you talking about, Henry?”

He made to explain, only for her to wave her hand at him and walk towards the drawing room. “Henry, I refuse to have a conversation in the hallway. Do me the dignity of at least coming into the drawing room. I have already asked for a tea tray and do not want my tea to grow cold whilst you give me your strange explanation as to why you have appeared out of the blue.”

“Where is mama?” Henry asked, as he reluctantly followed his sister to the drawing room. “Papa is out on business, I presume.”

“Mama was out late last evening,” Claudia explained, as she sat down. “I do not think she has yet risen, nor do I expect her to either, given that we are to go out again this evening. Papa has gone to meet with his solicitor.”

“Nothing too important, I hope?”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Just the matter of my dowry, I believe,” she replied. “You are going to come to my wedding, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” Henry replied, a trifle impatiently. “Now, Claudia, I meant what I said when I told you I was here to speak to Jacintha. It is a trifle urgent.”

“Well, you will not find her here,” Claudia replied, making his heart sink. “She is gone.”

He swallowed the lump of disappointment. “Gone where?”

“To the country,” Claudia replied, airily. “I mean, I think she will be gone by now. They were due to leave this morning and I do not think anything will have held them up.”

Groaning, Henry put his head in his hands. “Gone?” he muttered, his frustration mounting. “And the Duke’s estate is a few days travel from here!”

Claudia laughed, making him lift his head. “No, she has not gone home, although I believe that was the plan. I received a note from Harmonia yesterday informing me that Lord Slate had invited them all for an extended visit to his home – although I am sure you can imagine why he might do such a thing!”

A wave of nausea rolled in his stomach.

“They have gone to Dover?”

“To the Slate estate in Ferryway, yes,” Claudia replied, the smile slowly fading from her features. “Only this morning, of course.”

“They all went?”

Her sister stared at him as though he had gone mad. “Of course all of them! The Duke would hardly allow his daughter to attend the Slate estate on her own now, would he? Goodness, Henry, what has come over you?”

Henry closed his eyes, not quite sure what to say. He cared for Jacintha more than he wanted Claudia to know and now to hear that she had gone to Lord Slate’s home had been like a kick to his gut. “At least she will be nearby,” he muttered to himself, looking up at his sister. “Claudia, I must return to our uncle’s home.”

“Back to Dover?” she replied, suspiciously. “Henry, whatever is the matter? Why are you chasing Jacintha from here to there and back again?”

“I cannot say,” he replied, haltingly. “Only know that Lord Slate is not the man he appears to be.”

Claudia frowned, her eyes fixed on him. “Henry, you are not quite making sense. I will admit that your change in character has been a welcome one but you are now appearing to be a little obsessed!”

“I care for Jacintha,” he said, bluntly. “She does not know Lord Slate’s true nature and I must inform her of it.”

Claudia’s mouth fell open. “What are you talking about? You have not cared tuppence about Lady Jacintha in as many years and now, since she returned to town, you are telling me you cannot get her from your mind? That makes very little sense, Henry. In addition, I thought Lady Hereford might be the one to – ”

“I do not care for Lady Hereford,” Henry interrupted, slicing the air with his hand, frustration evident in his expression. “She is not the kind of woman for me, even if she is rather keen to deepen our acquaintance. Do not encourage her, I beg of you. You must leave that alone, Claudia, please.” He got to his feet, came over to her and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I know you are only thinking of my best but I promise you now that I will never care for Lady Hereford. Do excuse me. It seems I must now return to Dover.”

He did not wait but left the room at once, his concern for Lady Jacintha growing steadily. He was not quite sure what would happen once he returned to Ferryway but surely there would be a way for him to speak to Lady Jacintha, even if it meant calling on Lord Slate! She had to know the truth about him. She had to know that he was not who he appeared to be. He had to save her from Lord Slate.