

### Shadows in the Night

### Evan Andrew

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Mackay Books on Smashwords

Shadows in the Night

Copyright © 2008 by Evan Andrew

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

Copyright 2008 belongs to Evan G. Andrew, excluding the poem 'A Smuggler's Song' by Rudyard Kipling. No other part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrievable system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the permission in writing of the publisher and the writer.

All characters in this publication are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Published by Mackay Books.

350 Bothwell Park Road

R D 2 Waiuku

South Auckland 2682

Cover by Bruce Bryant, Auckland.

National Library of New Zealand

Print ISBN 978-0-9582914-1-5

##  Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the following people for their support and encouragement in the writing of this book:

Rae McGregor who read the first draft and insisted I continue; Dr Bruno Gianni and Neil McLauchlan for their assistance with the French grammar; Bryce Caller in London for his hospitality and added research when I needed it; the Mairangi Bay writers for their critical assessment; Malcolm Wall whose editing and practical advice was invaluable at all times; Heather Mackay, my agent, who had faith in the book and in me.

Also, special thanks to my son-in-law, Blair Browne, in solving all my computer and printing problems with patience and good humour; and finally, my wife Annmarie, for her understanding and forbearance during the whole process as 'Julia' took over my life.

This book is dedicated to Joyce Guthrie, my teacher at Papakura Normal School, New Zealand, who encouraged me to love words and reading. For this, I can never thank her enough.

If you wake at midnight

And hear a horse's feet

Don't go drawing back the blind

Or looking in the street.

Them that asks no questions

isn't told a lie

Watch the wall my darling

While the Gentlemen go by!

Five and twenty ponies

Trotting through the dark

Brandy for the parson

'Baccy for the clerk.

Laces for a lady

Letters for a spy

And watch the wall my darling

While the Gentlemen go by!

Extract from

A Smuggler's Song

by Rudyard Kipling

## Prologue

29th November 1817

The preventive officer, his ear to the freezing ground, listened intently for the first sound of approaching horses. The night was black with veils of misty rain further reducing visibility. When he lifted his head he sensed the wind was rising. The mist would soon clear.

The soft thud of bound hooves told him the smugglers were near. He was numb with cold, his gloved hand holding the pistol devoid of feeling.

A faint blink of light out at sea flashed, then was extinguished.

He lowered his head as the ponies passed close by. It was a large team which meant a big cargo of contraband.

On the cold ground he lay, shivering, waiting until all was silent. Only then did he risk a look towards the shore where shadowy figures moved about on the beach below.

Stealthily, he rose to his feet; he must give the warning now so they could be caught red-handed. He crept back up the hill, unaware of the large man watching and waiting for him behind a tree.

As he breasted the tree, there was a break in the clouds and a glimmer of moonlight outlined the preventive officer perfectly.

The large man lifted his arm. The blade of a knife glinted briefly.

There was a cry. A thud. The cassock of the night hid them.

## Chapter One

7th April 1818

'Running round the woodlump

if you chance to find'

Julia Farraday sank into a deep curtsy, rose gracefully, and with an indiscernible kick of her right foot swept the train of her Court dress around. She proceeded backwards from the Royal couple, her eyes demurely lowered.

Well, at least they seemed happy. Princess Elizabeth's plump flushed face had a broad smile, and if her wedding finery of rich silver tissue, Brussels lace and ostrich feathers was more suited to a girl of eighteen than a woman of almost forty-eight, who was she to judge?

As for the forty-nine year-old bridegroom, Prince Frederick of Hesse-Homberg, with his great paunch, massive whiskers and reek of tobacco, he was certainly no woman's ideal of manly beauty even in his dazzling uniform of an Austrian General. However, he did have a kindly face and seemed as genuinely enamoured of his 'die Elisabeth' as she was of her dearest 'Bluff'.

Glancing around the crowded room, Julia saw Queen Charlotte, a faded relic of her former self, seated on a sofa attended by her daughters, the Princesses Augusta and Sophia.

The King's continuing illness - she couldn't say madness - and the death last November in childbirth of her granddaughter, had broken the last remnants of her resolute will and Queen Charlotte now appeared as a crushed old woman.

Many considered her daughter, the Princess Elizabeth, callous to have married the hereditary Prince of Hesse-Homberg at this time, but then the Princess had always longed to marry and have an establishment of her own, even though the London wags said the whole principality was no bigger than the Royal Borough of Kensington.

So who could blame the Princess for seizing this chance to escape from the 'nunnery' as the Prince of Wales called his mother's household. After all, she'd waited thirty years for this day and seen many prospective bridegrooms fade into oblivion.

Julia felt suddenly tired from the glare of a thousand candles, and although the April evening wasn't warm, with all the guests crowded into the reception rooms and overflowing into the antechambers, the temperature had risen dramatically. After ten years as a maid of honour at Court she was quite used to standing for hours on end. She had certainly attended receptions more crowded and hotter than this, but a feeling of sadness that the end of all that was familiar and safe was now coming to an end, overwhelmed her.

When she had left Miss Harriet Anderton's Academy for Young Ladies at the age of eighteen to join the Royal Household, she had a thorough grounding in music, dancing, deportment, geography and the globes, French, German and the English languages, mathematics including the keeping of accounts and management of servants, as well as religious instruction and artistic pursuits, including watercolours, oils and the decoration of china, together with the art of tambour and painting on silks.

The ten years spent at Miss Anderton's Academy had been beneficial for her at Court, for it was the artistic pursuits that she enjoyed the most. With a soulmate like the artistically talented Princess Elizabeth, Julia soon became a constant companion for the five Princesses, helping and assisting with their music and artistic pursuits until poor Princess Amelia's death, followed by Princess Mary's marriage to her cousin, 'Silly Billy', the Duke of Gloucester.

Now Princess Elizabeth too was married and Julia knew if she didn't make the break from Court, she would end up as one of the dreary old retainers who were treated as objects of scorn and derision by the younger courtiers. Her Great Uncle Thomas had obtained her position here in the first place through his friendship with Queen Charlotte's physician, and although she had not seen her great uncle since she left Miss Anderton's Academy to go to Court, she had dutifully corresponded with him at Christmas and for his birthday in August.

On the announcement of Princess Elizabeth's engagement in February, Julia had, reluctantly, written to him asking if she could be allowed to retire from Court life and make her home with him on the Sussex coast. He was now in his eighties and his reply, written by his housekeeper Mrs Knight, although not exactly affable was polite enough, although he cautioned that she would not find country life to her taste after the heady pleasures of the Court.

The latter comment had made her laugh out loud. If only he knew of the interminable boredom, the standing about plus all the petty jealousies and little tyrannies one had to endure. Of course she would miss the Princesses and the few friends she had made here, but oh, to have the freedom just to live outside that gilded cage was something she was prepared to risk, even if it meant being buried in the country. For at twenty-eight, with no fortune of her own, a life of spinsterhood loomed before her as no suitor was likely to appear on the horizon.

She had been eight when her parents died in India from one of the recurring cholera epidemics. Julia and her brother Edward had been sent to their grandmother in England, three years earlier, but after grandmother's sudden death, followed by Edward's from scarlet fever, only Great Uncle Thomas was left.

Reluctant as he may have been, he did his duty and sent Julia to Miss Anderton. No matter how hard she tried she could not remember ever having visited her great uncle's home. Their only meeting she could recall had been a formal one, in the parlour of the academy as she prepared to leave for Court.

'You will be on trial, and any credit you can bring will be a reflection on both Miss Anderton's educational skills and on my reputation as your mentor in nominating you for this most important position. I trust you will undertake this responsibility with the utmost gravity and with due regard for your unfortunate circumstances,' and he had almost glared at her from under his shaggy eyebrows.

That was ten years ago and the upright elderly gentleman would surely have mellowed into a less forbidding personage. Anyway, the deed was done. Tomorrow she would begin the long day's journey by hire chaise, only stopping for luncheon at Tonbridge, and then on to Winchelsea to whatever fate might hold in store for her.

* * *

The strains of music wafted through the crowded rooms of the Queen's House abuzz with talk and laughter. Jewels sparkled in the candlelight and feathers trembled in the air; fans fluttered in gloved hands, all was movement and colour from the sheen of silk and satin and the glitter of dress uniforms covered in gold epaulettes, with huge flower arrangements everywhere.

Julia caught sight of Princess Elizabeth's dresser weeping copious tears with her friend, Mrs Stroud. Obviously, the prospect of life in Germany held little appeal there. Further on, she caught the eye of the Honourable Philip Stratton, equerry to the Queen.

He had arrived at Court three years ago, the younger son of an earl known to be in financial difficulties. He'd obtained the position in order to advance his career, for unless he married an heiress, he was totally without funds.

Despite his handsome face and charming manner, with only an Honourable before his name, no ambitious mother would consider Philip a suitable match for her daughter. His kindness, consideration and affability had made him a charming companion and very popular at Court. Julia could not deny the tenderness she felt for him, hard as she fought it, knowing there could be no future for them.

Nevertheless, time spent with him had brought joy to her heart even if at night her pillow had been soaked with tears, but she had faced each day with a smile, and determined not to let the world know how she suffered. That he too was caused pain was obvious by the anguish in his blue eyes and the strained features of his noble countenance.

His handsome face broke into a smile for her while he continued listening politely to the dronings of a middle-aged general beside him. Her heart missed a beat and she shivered in spite of the heat. Was she not apprehensive at what life would hold for her in the village of Winchelsea, despite her brave demeanour?

A youthful page appeared before her.

'Miss Farraday, the Princess Augusta would be pleased if you could attend her for a moment.'

'Of course, Mr Lane,' Julia smiled at the cheerful page.

He was one of her favourites who was always obliging when he was in waiting. With a faint sigh, she retraced her steps and went forward to do her duty for what would almost certainly be the last time.

Princess Augusta gave Julia a welcoming smile as she curtsied to her.

'Ah, Julia. Would you be able to assist Princess Sophia? Her lady, Mrs Blair, is unwell and my sister would like you to attend her when she retires.'

'Of course, Your Royal Highness,' answered Julia quietly.

'Thank you, Julia. Oh, how my sister, the Princess of Hesse-Homberg, is going to miss you,' Princess Augusta sighed. 'For that matter, we all will,' she added with a wan smile.

Discreetly, Julia made her way over to the settee where the Princess Sophia was talking to the American Ambassador. She glanced around the room at the colourful scene before her.

Her face lit up as Philip Stratton made his way through the guests to her side. With a broad smile he whispered to her, 'Well, Miss Farraday, our Royal bride and her groom make a happy couple, do they not?'

Looking into his deep blue eyes, Julia nodded her assent. Princess Elizabeth and her husband were deep in conversation with one of their guests and their faces radiated a happiness Julia had not often seen in royal circles since her time at Court.

Through her lashes she observed Philip's familiar features and thought again with a pang, how much she was going to miss his presence in her life. Tightening the grip on her fan, Julia forced herself to stem the tears which were so close to the surface, and smiled valiantly at the assembled throng.

'I certainly hope to be able to visit you in Sussex when I call upon my aunt, Lady Furnbridge, at Hastings,' said Philip Stratton, looking at her earnestly.

Julia felt a glow of pleasure. 'Why yes, of course. That would be most delightful.'

His face relaxed into a smile as the rotund Duke of York, who had given the bride away when the Prince Regent had been unable to attend owing to a severe attack of gout, passed by with the Duchess of Rutland. The Duchess was positively simpering at the Duke's attention. Philip and Julia looked at each other, suppressing conspiratorial grins.

Julia caught Princess Sophia's eye, which said 'Rescue me. I've had enough.'

Turning to Philip she said gently, 'I do hope you are able to visit my great uncle and myself at Winchelsea, Mr Stratton. It really would be a pleasure,' and she hoped she kept the longing out of her voice.

'I promise you, Miss Farraday, I will do so,' he answered seriously, as he bowed over her hand.

'I must attend the Princess Sophia,' Julia said quietly, and, excusing herself, crossed over to the delicate Princess. With consummate tact she managed to extricate the Princess, allowing the Ambassador to withdraw in good humour.

Assisting the Princess with her lace shawl as she arose, Julia waited as Princess Elizabeth came over and joined her sister, to make sure she was quite comfortable.

The bride gave Julia a grateful smile and announced she was about to retire to change for her honeymoon, and together Princess Sophia and Julia followed her out of the reception room. As they did so, Julia managed to catch Philip's eye for one last smile, thinking to herself that this would be the last royal occasion she would attend, and tomorrow a whole new chapter in her life would begin.

## Chapter Two

'Little barrels, roped and tarred,

all full of brandywine'

The journey had been relatively uneventful, and the countryside was lovely in all its spring lushness with the apple blossom in full bloom and lambs frisky in the meadows beside their mothers. Despite showers earlier in the day, the late afternoon sun softened any harshness on the skyline, and it was near dusk when the hired chaise finally rolled down the last hill and into the village of Winchelsea.

Earlier that day, there had been tearful farewells at the Queen's House, and Julia was grateful that Philip Stratton had had the sensitivity not to appear. The kind and practical Princess Augusta had assured her that if she was unhappy in her new position, a place would be found for her back at Court. She had only to let them know, and so with that comfort at least, she had started off. From the moment they left Windsor, Smithers, Julia's maid, had started to weep and by the time they reached Sevenoaks, Julia's patience was at an end.

'Please stop snivelling, Smithers, and try to control yourself.'

The maid caught her breath on a sob.

'But oh, Miss Julia, what am I to do buried in the country? No Court, no town. There'll be nothing!'

Julia smiled. 'You still have me, Smithers, and that's the choice you made. Now let's have no more of this nonsense. You are becoming tiresome.'

The maid cast Julia a resentful stare from behind her handkerchief and sank back into her seat.

'Look at the view of the countryside we are passing. It is all new to us both,' Julia added more kindly.

Smithers sniffed even more loudly as if to show her contempt for rural views. For the maid, it was a dreadful journey into the unknown. Having been with Julia since her appointment to Court, and a Londoner by birth, country life was totally abhorrent to her. As Julia's personal maid at Court, she had standing and position but that was now gone. Although Julia offered to release her from her situation, Smithers had nowhere else to go; thus, although reluctant, she had agreed to stay and support Julia to her destination.

At the thriving market town of Tonbridge, all was hectic bustle. Julia was surprised at how busy the coachyard was when they arrived at the Rose and Crown for lunch. A mail coach was about to leave, loaded with passengers. Another coach, only recently arrived, its team of horses tired from drawing the coach, was being led away to be fed and rested up in readiness for their next stage. Ostlers, meanwhile, were preparing to get fresh horses poled up to take the coach on the remaining leg of its journey.

Passengers milled around talking and calling for assistance from the guard as corded trunks were loaded on top, and bandboxes, valises and smaller packages were packed into the boot. A terrier added to the general confusion by scampering around, barking at the steaming horses of Julia's chaise. Everyone ignored the stableboy who was trying in vain to catch the dog. They were too busy going to luncheon or going about their own business to be bothered with them.

Assisted by an eager waiter, Julia and Smithers alighted stiffly from the chaise and entered the Inn.

'This way, your ladyship,' cried a welcoming maidservant, who led them past the noisy taproom which was doing good business for the middle of the day, and past the coffee room which was filled with a quieter clientele, to the dining room.

Pausing at the doorway, Julia could see the dining room, too, was doing a steady trade, and noticed a burly red-faced parson seated at a table. He was brandishing his fork in an excited manner, deeply engrossed in conversation with a thin foreign-looking gentleman in the dress of a Lutheran Pastor which she recognised from her time at Court.

'A private dining room, if you please,' said Julia firmly.

She was quite unused to this sort of establishment and was somewhat bewildered, but was no less interested in the proceedings than was Smithers who was studying everything with frank curiosity.

'The best parlour will be suitable for you, I am sure, your ladyship,' bobbed the maid, and led them on to a comfortable and clean private room, reserved for travellers of quality.

'If we could attend to our toilette first,' Julia inquired, as she put down her reticule and untied the ribbons of her hat.

The maid nodded understandingly and Julia relaxed accordingly.

Both Julia and Smithers were grateful for the excellent hot meal in the private parlour of the Rose and Crown Inn, which fortified them for the rest of the day's journey in the jolting coach.

Now at journey's end, Julia gazed out of the window of the chaise at what was to be her new home. It was a large two-storey house of no discernible period, set back from the road in a neglected garden. As the carriage made its way up the drive towards the covered portico over the front door, Julia felt her heart beat quicken. Smithers sniffed beside her and looked dejectedly at the overgrown garden.

The chaise stopped, the footman let down the steps, and Julia alighted. She climbed the broad shallow steps to the front door. Before she could reach the knocker, the door swung open to reveal an austere looking woman in her late sixties, dressed in black with a white cap, the keys of office attached to her waist. A middle-aged man in livery hovered behind her.

'Miss Farraday. I bid you welcome to Winchelsea. I am Mrs Knight, Mr Farraday's housekeeper.'

The voice was grave, the face solemn but not unfriendly. Tired as she was, Julia gave her warmest smile.

'I am so pleased to meet you at last, Mrs Knight. This is my maid, Smithers.'

Housekeeper and maid eyed one another warily.

'Mr Ridges will attend to your luggage.' Mrs Knight inclined her head regally to the man, who gave Julia a fleeting smile and departed down the stairs to the chaise.

'Would you care to go to your room first to attend to your toilette or wait on Mr Farraday in the day room?'

Julia hesitated briefly. Conscious of her travel-stained appearance and Mrs Knight's all too critical eye, she chose carefully.

'I will see my Great Uncle, thank you, Mrs Knight.'

With some trepidation, she followed the housekeeper down the hall to the day room. The light was dim despite a small fire, and it took her a moment to see him, swathed as he was in several scarves and with a cap on to protect his head from draughts, sitting in a deep armchair. Julia curtseyed and waited while he appraised her from eyes that she suddenly remembered.

'Your mother was a beauty. You take after your father's family.'

Despite his age, the voice had surprising strength. Julia felt the colour rising in her cheeks. Although she was too tall, too thin for conventional beauty, hair mousy brown and not fashionably dark, nor or her nose aquiline, she knew that her wide grey eyes looked directly at the world, and her complexion and teeth were good.

A smile trembled around her lips as she answered, 'Quite so, sir.'

'Humph,' he muttered. 'Come closer. Knight, bring the candles.'

Mrs Knight moved across to a sideboard and returned bearing a candelabra, which she held beside Julia.

'Humph,' he muttered again. 'You will find life very dull in this house after what you've been accustomed to.'

Wearily, Julia tried to explain that she didn't in the least mind peace and solitude, but he impatiently curtailed her explanation.

'We dine early in the country, Miss. You had best get ready. Knight, show her to her room,' and he waved a trembling hand in dismissal.

Julia curtsied once more, and with a feeling akin to relief, followed the housekeeper from the room.

* * *

The morning sun streaming through the windows awoke Julia from an uneasy sleep. For a moment she was unsure where she was, and then the realisation of her change of circumstances threatened to overwhelm her. Dinner had been a desultory affair with her great uncle hunched over his chicken broth, only grunting occasionally. Although she had endeavoured to start a conversation, her efforts had been totally unrewarded.

At least the meal, consisting of whiting with an oyster sauce, capon stuffed with lemons and followed by a fruit tart, had been of a higher standard than Julia had thought possible, and she was relieved the household obviously had a cook who knew her profession.

She was interrupted from her reverie by a gentle tap on the door and Smithers appeared bearing a tray of her morning chocolate.

'Morning, Miss Julia. It's past eight. We let you sleep on as Mrs Knight says breakfast is at nine o'clock.'

Julia took the hot chocolate and looked around the unfamiliar room. Although not large, there was a substantial fireplace, a large wardrobe and chest of drawers, two windows facing east which gathered in the morning sun, a small Turkey rug on the floor, a washstand with matching pitcher and bowl patterned with sprigs of lilac, and a looking glass on a stand in the far corner.

Smithers had unpacked her clothes and personal effects, but the large wicker basket containing Julia's precious art supplies was left intact, awaiting her attention. The looking glass was a nice touch, Julia mused. She must remember to thank Mrs Knight for her consideration. Smithers prattled on about the rest of the household staff while holding up two morning dresses for Julia's inspection.

'The cream poplin will do nicely, thank you Smithers, and perhaps the cashmere shawl with the blue embroidery?'

While Smithers collected the necessary garments from the chest of drawers, Julia started her toilette, her mind full of questions regarding her great uncle and the household she had entered. She knew she was regarded with something akin to suspicion by Mrs Knight and was there only under severe sufferance by her great uncle.

The thought of being dependent on her great uncle's charity from now on weighed heavily upon her, and Julia felt cast down with gloom as the prospect of a lonely spinsterhood loomed before her.

Nevertheless, twenty minutes later it was a composed and outwardly smiling Julia who entered the morning room, just as the hall clock chimed the hour of nine. To her relief, the breakfast table was set for one. Obviously, her great uncle wasn't joining her for breakfast and with the smell of fresh coffee assailing her senses, she was surprised to find herself suddenly hungry and moved across to the sideboard to explore what lay beneath the covers.

A fresh-faced young parlour maid entered the room and, with a bob to Julia, announced in a soft Sussex burr, 'I'm Molly, and if there's anything Miss wants, please to ring the bell.'

With a plate of steaming kedgeree in her hands, Julia smiled her thanks and proceeded to enjoy what turned out to be a hearty breakfast.

Afterwards, pleasantly replete, she pondered her next move. There had been no sign of Mrs Knight and she did not want to disturb her great uncle. He was an old man and may have slept late as he hadn't joined her for breakfast.

Julia rang the bell and when Molly scuttled in, she asked, 'Could you please go and see if it would be convenient for Mrs Knight to see me?'

As Molly went to do her bidding, Julia sighed at the thought of the interview. In due course the girl returned and asked Miss please to follow her and she led the way down the hall to the housekeeper's room.

Julia had sudden memories of being summoned to Miss Anderton's room, standing apprehensively outside the door in much the same way, turning her mother's amethyst ring on her finger nervously. This is ridiculous she thought as Molly tapped on the door and Mrs Knight's voice from within bid them to enter.

The interview went better than Julia expected. After being invited to be seated, Julia thanked her for the comforts of her room and the kindness in providing the looking glass. She complimented her on the repast of the previous night and her enjoyment of the morning's breakfast. Mrs Knight inclined her head gravely and Julia sensed her beginning to thaw.

'Mrs Knight, as I believe you are aware, I have not had a great deal to do with my great uncle and I would be grateful if you could give me an understanding of his habits and routine, as I do not wish, while residing in his house, to be the cause of any distress.'

Mrs Knight visibly relaxed and leant forward as if to speak confidentially to Julia.

'Mr Farraday,' she began, 'is a most careful and considerate employer who, sadly, no longer enjoys the robust health of his younger days, which,' she added hastily, 'is a great trial for one who was such an active man.'

Julia nodded her head in understanding as the housekeeper continued. 'Waste in any form is an anathema for him, and in particular, the cost of replacing candles which have not been fully used makes him terribly anxious.'

For the next thirty minutes, Julia was regaled with her great uncle's ailments, idiosyncrasies and humour in general. That he was parsimonious, except at table, was soon apparent. However, unless thwarted or put upon, he was of an even, if not overly friendly, disposition. Mrs Knight seemed prepared to talk on over a most welcome cup of tea that Molly thoughtfully provided.

'It has always puzzled me that my great uncle never married,' Julia mused, as she replaced her tea cup in its saucer.

Mrs Knight swallowed a mouthful of tea and shook her head darkly.

'Disappointed in love he was, at an early age. And then...oh dear, getting embroiled in unsuitable alliances that could never be. A sad business that put him off marriage forever.' She sighed deeply and set her cup down.

This information amazed Julia and she gaped at Mrs Knight who seemed lost in her reverie. Then, collecting her thoughts together, she addressed Julia directly.

'If I may be so bold to speak plainly, Miss Farraday, may I suggest that if you just keep yourself to yourself and take pains not to interfere with Mr Farraday's ways, all will run smoothly and harmoniously.'

She smiled kindly at Julia who accepted the hint she was given and smiled back in return.

'Of course, Mrs Knight. I would not dream of interfering in any way to upset my great uncle or yourself with the running of the household.'

With this clarification the housekeeper seemed content.

'Miss Farraday, if it is convenient for you, would you care to accompany me and I shall introduce you to the servants' hall?'

In trepidation, as if she was following Miss Anderton, Julia went in Mrs Knight's wake to the kitchen and met the red-faced but very competent cook, Mrs Brown. She was also introduced to Hetty the scullery maid, Annie the under maid, Willy the boot boy, and she renewed her acquaintance with Molly the parlour maid and Ridges the butler. Wyatt, the gardener and groom, was not present being otherwise engaged on her great uncle's business.

It was with something akin to relief that Julia finally made her excuses to Mrs Knight and retired to her room to begin unpacking her precious wicker basket.

However, on seeing once again the glorious day outside, she decided that perhaps it was time to go out and explore the village of Winchelsea instead.

Some thirty minutes later, suitably attired in her blue pelisse and straw bonnet with matching ribbons tied fetchingly beneath her chin, Julia, accompanied by a reluctant Smithers, ventured down the driveway of the house and out into what appeared to be the main street.

The first object of interest was an old grey stone Norman church, with a large horse chestnut tree in bud gracing the entranceway. Further up the hill was the village, comprising of several pleasing looking houses and a cluster of shops. All the while, Julia, well aware that she was the object of intense scrutiny, smiled civilly to passersby.

Just as she was about to retrace her footsteps back to her great uncle's house, she was startled by the sudden appearance of a horse and rider at full gallop, causing both women to flatten themselves against a shop wall. On espying Julia and a terrified Smithers, the rider checked his mount. He threw her a quick glance which broadened into a grin before commencing to gallop on, leaving her, if anything, more shaken than ever.

As she continued walking, Julia's eyes were firmly fixed on the retreating equestrian's back, her mind in a whirl. She had a fleeting impression of a large dark man with a swarthy countenance, a flash of white teeth, and a surprisingly boyish smile for someone who had to be past thirty.

Really, she thought, I'm being as impressionable as a schoolroom miss. It simply won't do.

Briskly she turned to Smithers.

'Are you hurt, Smithers?'

'No, no, ma'am. That ruffian though...'

'Never mind him. We must make haste for I cannot be late for luncheon. Great Uncle Thomas would be most displeased.'

Julia was upset though, as much by the rider's disturbing presence as by the danger of the encounter.

'Come, let us go. Our nerves will recover,' and she gave a nervous laugh while her mind raced with the thought of who the ruffian on horseback could be.

## Chapter Three

'Don't you shout to come and look,

nor use 'em for your play'

For the next few days, Julia concentrated on making herself familiar with the running of the household and the unpacking of her art supplies and other personal effects to make her room more home-like. After dinner she would industriously ply her needle with the tapestry she was currently working on. A rather forlorn pianoforte, sadly out of tune, had been discovered in the drawing room, but her great uncle had begged her to desist in attempting to play as it was dreadfully distracting to his nerves, and naturally Julia obliged him.

On Sunday morning, Julia announced her intention of attending church and at a quarter to eleven, accompanied by a reluctant Smithers, she left the house.

Inside, to her dismay, the church appeared sadly neglected and in a state of disrepair. The service, delivered to a sparse congregation, although not particularly edifying was conducted in a firm and forthright manner by a large burly red-faced parson, who looked as if he would brook no nonsense either from his parishioners or the Almighty Himself.

'Ah, Miss Farraday!' he exclaimed. 'How delightful to meet you at last. My wife was hoping to make your acquaintance but has sadly been indisposed for the past sennight.'

He glanced admiringly at Julia's Pomona green walking costume.

'However, she does hope to be able to call upon you soon, as she is agog to hear the news from Court as well as the latest modes being worn,' he added roguishly.

Julia, somewhat taken aback at such compliments from a vicar, was momentarily speechless, especially as she remembered that she had seen the gentleman before, lunching at the Rose and Crown in Tonbridge. For an instant she thought of mentioning the fact, but instead murmured she would be only too happy to receive Mrs Talbot whenever that lady was able. She turned slightly away from the vicar when a tall, cheerful-looking middle-aged gentleman with his wife and two daughters came up beside her, waiting to speak.

'Ah, Sir Henry, Lady Wentworth, may I present Miss Farraday, Mr Thomas Farraday's great-niece who has just come from Court?' explained Mr Talbot, rather sycophantically thought Julia.

'Delighted, I'm sure,' smiled Sir Henry, as Julia curtsied first to him and then to his lady, receiving a bow and smiling acknowledgement in return.

'These are our daughters, Susan and Caroline,' continued their proud father.

Julia smiled at a young lady of about twenty years of age with dark curls and a vivacious face, and a younger, but completely breathtaking blonde beauty with a roseleaf complexion, angelic demeanour and large blue eyes fringed with long dark lashes. Both young women gazed at Julia with frank curiosity.

'My dear, Miss Farraday. It's such a pleasure to meet you at last,' said Lady Wentworth with a smile. 'The entire village can talk of nothing else but your arrival in our midst. We fully intended to call upon you, but your great uncle...'

Here Lady Wentworth faltered and her husband rose to the occasion.

'We would be delighted if you would care to pay us a visit at Wentworth Hall, at your convenience of course. We are very close to your great uncle's home, almost neighbours in fact,' and he laughed jovially. 'We are aware Mr Farraday does not encourage visitors and in view of his advanced years, we would not presume to inconvenience him in any way.'

Julia nodded graciously, and after exchanging a few more pleasantries and promising to call as soon as possible, was then briefly introduced to a recently widowed Mrs Blake and her daughter, a young lady of about Julia's age, both dressed in full mourning.

Gradually, Julia made her departure, fully aware she was the object of attention from many eyes.

* * *

The fact that her great uncle was almost a recluse had not escaped Julia's notice. Mrs Knight had unbent sufficiently for her to be able to enquire at length about his daily routine and Julia had then begged to be allowed to relieve that lady of any tasks in which she could assist.

One task was to read aloud to her great uncle from the Morning Post after breakfast in his room. There had been discontented mutterings at first, and Julia felt some qualms as she had when reading to Queen Charlotte, but it had passed off better than expected, except when government policies caused him to fly into a passion. Julia soon learned to be prepared for this.

On Tuesday morning he seemed more responsive to her reading than the previous day, so, at the conclusion, she ventured to ask her great uncle about Sir Henry Wentworth and his family.

'Humph, a relative newcomer, Miss. Don't want them here. I can't afford to entertain the district. Don't want to anyway, pack of mamby pamby law-abiding hypocritical...'

Julia hastened to soothe him. 'It's all right, sir. I have no intention of inviting anyone here without your consent. Rest easy, I beg of you.'

He continued to glare malevolently and muttered something unintelligible. It was some time before Julia could pacify him and, with relief, return to her room.

* * *

On the Wednesday, having discovered the whereabouts of Wentworth Hall from Mrs Knight and finding it was within walking distance, Julia set off in fitful sunshine, accompanied by Smithers. After some forty minutes they came to the entrance of Sir Henry's establishment and paused to look around. Sheep grazed contentedly in the surrounding fields, and, beyond the fields, the vista opened out to the Romney Marshes with a glimpse of the sea in the distance. Away to the east lay the steep hill of Rye with the old Cinque Port perched dramatically on its summit.

Julia and Smithers made their way to the front door whereupon they were duly ushered into a yellow salon by the butler. They were greeted by the charming sight of Lady Wentworth with her daughters grouped around her, examining a fashion pictorial.

After the first exclamations of surprise, Julia was made welcome while Smithers was taken by Lady Wentworth's abigail to the housekeeper's room. For the next hour, Julia was subjected to a quizzing on life at Court, the royal family, London fashions and town topics in general. In turn, she learned that the eldest son of the household was serving in the army; that Harry, the second son, was studying for Holy Orders; and Gareth, the youngest, was away at school.

'The reason Susan is currently at home and not enjoying a London season is due to an unfortunate attack of quinsy from which she is now almost fully recovered. It is to be hoped she will return to her Aunt Maria in the next few weeks,' Lady Wentworth whispered to Julia. It was before the season's end that a certain party was expected to declare himself.

Her daughters, meanwhile, argued over the merits of a swansdown-trimmed cape in the pictorial. With Caroline due to come out next year, it was imperative that Susan was spoken for as it simply wouldn't do for Caroline to beat her sister to the post in the marriage stakes. Julia recognised the propriety of this, as the beauteous Caroline would put any young lady in the shade. While Lady Wentworth chatted on, Julia had a sudden vision of Philip Stratton's face before her and so found herself consciously forced to concentrate on what her hostess was saying.

'Oh, do say you will come with us, Miss Farraday?' begged Susan. 'The new Assembly Rooms in Rye will be of no consequence after what you have been accustomed to, but I would so like you to come with us.'

Somewhat confused for she had not been fully listening, it was again explained to her that on Saturday night there was to be a ball, which Susan and her parents were attending, and they would be delighted if Julia would accompany them.

'We will collect you in our carriage and return you home in good time, I assure you,' insisted Lady Wentworth.

Julia felt sure there was nothing her great uncle could object to and consented readily.

'That is most kind of you and I do assure you I would very much like to see the Assembly Rooms and meet some of the of the county people I have come to live amongst.'

Caroline, who was too young to attend, was somewhat put out and sighed despondently at the thought of the proposed revelry in which she could not participate.

As they made their way down the driveway towards home, Smithers prattled on about the Wentworth household and the hospitality she had received, while Julia listened with only half an ear. The talk of her previous life at Court had brought back so many memories and her mind was full of the handsome Mr Stratton, and she wondered if he was still in attendance on the Queen. She forced herself to dismiss Philip Stratton from her mind.

The breeze had increased and some dark clouds were beginning to look threatening, so Julia urged Smithers to increase her pace and both ladies hurried homewards before the first raindrops fell.

## Chapter Four

'Put the brishwood back again'

Her great uncle received the news of the proposed ball at Rye with complete indifference and did not withhold his consent much to Julia's relief. The next few days were spent in preparation for the coming event.

On the night of the ball, Julia stood before the looking glass, pleased with what she saw reflected there. Smithers had brushed her hair until it shone, and had swept it into a high chignon set with a Spanish comb. Her dress of sea-green crape over a satin slip was delicately embroidered with gold thread and her mother's emerald and diamond drop earrings sparkled in her ears. Long kid gloves, an ivory fan, and a gold silk shawl draped around her shoulders completed her ensemble. Promptly at eight o'clock, the Wentworth carriage drew up and with warm compliments from Smithers, Mrs Knight and Ridges the manservant, Julia ventured forth to enter the chaise. Great Uncle Thomas, however, was nowhere to be seen.

They made a handsome picture and in enjoyable anticipation they made their way to the Assembly Rooms in Rye - Lady Wentworth, gracious in oyster satin with a matching turban; Susan, pretty in pink gauze with rosebuds entwined in her dusky curls; and Sir Henry resplendent in black evening dress.

It was a perfect night and in the fading light Julia watched with interest the scenery pass by as the chaise made its way towards Rye. On the precincts of the town, they joined a cortege of other carriages that were heading in the same direction, and gradually they all climbed the rise up to the Assembly Rooms adjoining the George Inn.

Outside all was noise and confusion as link boys with flaming torches shouted to each other, and coachmen barked out, 'Make way'. Horses neighed and fidgeted while harassed grooms and footmen assisted the guests to alight from their coaches.

The proceedings were well underway when they arrived. Music filled the air and the well-proportioned room was prettily decorated with garlands of flowers. Already the dance floor held a respectable number of dancers of a wide range of ages, performing a cotillion with more zest than grace.

Julia was greeted warmly by an effusive Mr Blanding who was the Master of Ceremonies. Before long she was being introduced to most of the assembled company. Whether to dance or not was a dilemma, but, enjoying dancing as she did, her resolve wavered, and when Mr Blanding brought up a cheerful gentleman for the country dance, Julia smiled her acquiescence and stood up happily.

There was quite a crush in the Rooms and just before supper, Julia, feeling rather warm, stepped out onto the balcony with Susan to get some air. As she passed through the door, she slipped and fell forward into a strong pair of arms. A much-shaken Julia gazed upwards into laughing brown eyes framed by thick black lashes and a face she had last seen aboard a galloping horse. She felt her heart melt within her.

Lady Wentworth, who had followed behind them, managed the introductions.

'Mr Gerald Hamilton, Miss Julia Farraday.'

'Why thank you, sir,' stammered Julia. 'I am most grateful for your assistance.'

'My pleasure, ma'am,' said the smiling Mr Hamilton. 'But surely we have met before?'

'No, no. I think not, sir. However...'

'Ah, I have it. I believe I saw you in Winchelsea just a few days ago. I was riding a somewhat unruly colt and I'm afraid I may have startled you. If so, I do beg your pardon,' and he smiled yet again, exposing perfect teeth, a rarity amongst most men.

'Am I permitted to ask if I may be allowed to stand up with you for the quadrille?'

Julia smiled her assent. She was mesmerised by those brown eyes and couldn't move her own eyes from them. He graciously offered her his arm, which she took gratefully, and as if in a dream, returned to the ballroom just as the opening strains of the quadrille began.

The dance ended all too soon and as they left the floor to return to Lady Wentworth, they were approached by a slim, very fashionably dressed young man. His bow was perfection as he addressed them.

'Hamilton, are you not going to introduce me to the best dancer in the room?'

Gerald Hamilton laughed.

'I did not think it would take you long to be aware of that fact, Danvers. Miss Farraday, this is a friend of mine from London who is currently staying with me. Timothy Danvers, Miss Julia Farraday.'

Julia, aware of his critical eye, swept him her very best curtsy.

'Miss Farraday has only recently left Court to come and live with her uncle, Mr Thomas Farraday, at Winchelsea.'

Julia caught a look that passed between them before Mr Danvers smoothly continued the conversation.

'Then it is no wonder you are such an accomplished dancer, Miss Farraday. Might I beg the favour of the next dance?'

'You may only allow him that, Miss Farraday, if you promise me the following one,' interjected a smiling Mr Hamilton.

'Gentlemen, a moment please!' Julia quickly scanned her dance card and then announced, 'Mr Danvers, it would be my pleasure to stand up with you.

'Mr Hamilton, I am able to give you the waltz after that if you are sure you want to risk my reputation with another dance?' she added with a teasing smile.

Timothy Danvers was about to interject but Gerald Hamilton was too quick. 'I would be delighted and shall await the waltz with impatience.'

The opening bars of the gavotte started and Julia took Mr Danver's arm. It was a surprise to her that Gerald Hamilton knew she had left Court and was staying with Great Uncle Thomas. She could only assume that local gossip had informed him of the fact.

As they danced, she saw Gerald Hamilton standing at the side of the dance floor, watching them with a quizzical smile on his face.

She had agreed to dance with Timothy Danvers for she knew the gavotte was the next dance on her card. The following dance was a waltz and she wanted to dance that with Mr Hamilton more than anything else in the world. For the moment though, the lively gavotte, which Mr Danvers executed in a most dashing manner, took all her attention and energy and she concentrated on the steps with a smile so her partner would not be disappointed in her performance.

The rest of the ball was like a dream. She was aware of laughing and dancing, and making polite conversation, but her senses swirled in total confusion. All she could think about was Gerald Hamilton. It didn't seem to matter where in the room he was, she was conscious of his presence. Their eyes seemed to meet as if by accident wherever she turned, at which he would give her a rueful smile. He was too large to be fashionably handsome, the face too broad, the skin too brown, and the features ordinary, except for the eyes and teeth. However, his presence was commanding, and for such a large man he danced with a lightness that had surprised her. When he claimed her for the waltz, their steps matched perfectly and she wished the dance would never end.

* * *

Returning home in the carriage with a sleepy Lady Wentworth and a wide-awake Susan, it was Sir Henry who enlightened her about Gerald Hamilton.

'Popular fellow from all accounts. Has an estate near Rye. Made a fortune in India they say. Seems to be too friendly with some of the smuggling fraternity hereabouts. At one stage, revenue men were regular callers, I gather. However,...' here he gave Julia a sharp look, 'Mr Hamilton wouldn't be the only gentleman in this part of the country who has received calls from those men.'

There was nothing she could say in response to Sir Henry's remarks and they continued on in companionable silence until they reached her great uncle's house.

On their arrival, she thanked them effusively for their chaperonage and promised to call on them in the coming week. She bade them goodnight and joined Smithers who was waiting up to see her to bed. Sleep eluded her as the image of Gerald Hamilton's face kept appearing before her with surprising intensity.

The next few days were spent indoors due to wet and windy weather so when Tuesday dawned gloriously sunny, Julia eagerly took her sketchbook and walked to the far end of the garden. There was a slight rise there that gave a view of the surrounding countryside. Her efforts had not proceeded very far when Ridges appeared, announcing the arrival of Mrs Talbot, the vicar's wife. With a resigned sigh, Julia followed him back to the house. She asked for tea to be sent to the morning room, and after smoothing her hair as best she could, she entered the room to greet a tiny birdlike lady who grasped Julia's hand warmly.

'Oh, my dear Miss Farraday, so delightful to make your acquaintance at last. How I have longed to visit you before this, but the conscientious vicar, Mr Talbot, has had so many local affairs to deal with that his health would be sadly impaired if I did not insist on not only sharing his burdens, but shielding him from unwanted and unscrupulous people who undermine his well being and shatter his nerves with their petty complaints and persistent attentions.'

All this was said in a breathless voice at such speed that Julia felt almost dizzy, while the grip on her hand tightened to that of a vice.

Her visitor then proceeded at an even more hectic pace to enquire on her thoughts of the village, life at Court, London society, and then she gave her hostess a running description of the neighbourhood and its inhabitants.

Scarcely pausing for breath when Molly arrived with the tea, Mrs Talbot launched into the delicate state of her health and all the remedies she used, before turning to Julia to ask if she was not at all lonely living buried in the country.

Julia assured her with a smile that she was very happy with her situation, and mentioned how kind Sir Henry and Lady Wentworth had been, which immediately launched Mrs Talbot into a recital of that family's history and the aspirations they had for the beautiful Caroline. When she finally paused for breath, Julia mentioned their kindness in escorting her to the recent ball in Rye, and the solicitude of Mr Hamilton when she had unfortunately fallen.

This brought immediate colour to Mrs Talbot's cheeks and she exclaimed, 'Oh, my dear Miss Farraday, Mr Hamilton is not quite...not quite the thing, for ladies...to know, you understand.'

No, Miss Farraday did not understand, but leaned forward with great interest to enquire of Mrs Talbot as to exactly what the gentleman's, for want of a better word, misdemeanours were.

'Is Mr Hamilton not a respectable member of the district, Mrs Talbot?'

'Oh, my dear, I hardly know where to begin...'

It appeared, after some coaxing and with blushes and much agitation, that Gerald Hamilton sometimes had certain ladies of dubious quality residing at his home over a considerable period of time. And this without any regard for the scandalised feelings of his neighbours. Moreover, despite his so-called fortune - and Mrs Talbot looked agitatedly around the room as if expecting Mr Hamilton to suddenly materialise - he'd been visited by the revenue men on more than one occasion.

Suddenly Mrs Talbot went quiet and hung her head as though she was finally aware that her indiscreet tongue had led her into conversational quicksand.

Julia kept up a flow of innocuous talk until a subdued Mrs Talbot took her departure, leaving her hostess to ponder over much of what she had said.

Any thoughts of further sketching were completely driven from Julia's mind when she returned to walk in the untidy garden, trying to sort out the impressions her visitor had left with her.

She was very disappointed. Of course she knew all about 'bits of muslin', 'ladybirds' and all the other terms for gentlemen's lights of love. One could not live at Court and not also know of the Prince of Wales and his brother's affairs without being aware of how things were. It also explained why someone so obviously eligible wasn't considered suitable for one such as Susan Wentworth.

Despite her knowledge, Julia felt cross and out of sorts. Indeed, she felt a deep anger for Mr Hamilton and his ilk for treating her sex in such a fashion. Yet, deep down, she knew that it would be only too easy for a woman to fall prey to such charm as lay in Gerald Hamilton's brown eyes.

## Chapter Five

'And they'll be gone next day'

While reading the Morning Post to her great uncle the following morning, Julia plucked up courage and asked, 'Uncle Thomas, are you acquainted with a Mr Hamilton?'

Up to that moment the old man had appeared to be in a relatively good humour but at the mention of that gentleman's name, his eyebrows joined together and his eyes assumed a steely glint that Julia knew only too well.

'How do you know Gerald Hamilton, Miss?' he asked sharply.

With as brief an explanation as she could muster, Julia told him about the near mishap that had occurred at the ball and Mr Hamilton's invaluable assistance and courtesy, carefully refraining from mentioning her earlier encounter in the village.

Great Uncle Thomas was silent for a moment.

Then, choosing his words carefully, he said, 'Mr Hamilton has an estate near Rye and is said to be a man of substance. In business matters I have no quarrel with him. However, I should not have thought him to be a suitable acquaintance for a female in your situation.'

Julia looked at her great uncle nonplussed and started turning the amethyst ring on her finger. What on earth could he mean? A female in her situation?

For a moment they continued staring at each other until Julia asked blankly, 'Whatever do you mean, Uncle?'

'Gerald Hamilton's reputation with the petticoat line is well known in these parts, Miss. It would not be seemly for me to say more, but my advice would be to give that gentleman a wide berth. Do I make myself clear?' And he leaned forward in his chair, glaring fiercely.

With burning cheeks, Julia addressed him.

'Uncle Thomas, my acquaintance with Mr Hamilton is slight, but to me he has been nothing other than a gentleman. If I should meet him in public again, I could not with all conscience treat him with anything but politeness. However, I will certainly remember our conversation.'

Her reading finished, Julia begged to be excused and left the room feeling very disgruntled and with the uncomfortable feeling that her great uncle's eyes were boring into her back.

In the afternoon she walked with Smithers to visit the Wentworth family at Wentworth Hall.

During the course of conversation, Lady Wentworth mentioned the prospect of an excursion to Rye on market day, suggesting that Julia might care to join them to see something of the old town. As she did not think Susan was quite the thing yet, her visit to London and Aunt Maria was delayed until she had the bloom back in her cheeks. An outing would lift Susan's spirits.

'We will have luncheon at The George Inn, visit the local emporium and several other good clothing establishments, we will visit the church on the hill the Ypres Tower and take in the surrounding view from the terrace.'

This all sounded delightful to Julia and she agreed unhesitatingly to accompany them.

At nine-thirty on market day, the Wentworth carriage drew up and they began the drive to Rye. It passed pleasantly enough, and on their arrival they were able to walk along High Street purchasing ribbons and muslins as well as other articles of female apparel, before joining Sir Henry at The George for a substantial luncheon.

Afterwards, the party consisting of Sir Henry and Lady Wentworth, Susan, Caroline and an enthusiastic Julia, made their way up to the Church of St Mary to see the turret clock. As they walked through the busy streets, two men, one a middle-aged sea captain and the other, a younger man, an officer in the uniform of a Customs Land Guard, stopped to greet Sir Henry.

After the first pleasantries, Sir Henry turned to Julia.

'Miss Farraday, may I present Captain Martin of the ship Glorious, and Lieutenant Wareham, the Riding Officer for Rye.'

The older man, Captain Martin, bowed, and the lieutenant's sharp blue eyes looked directly at her.

'Miss Farraday, my pleasure I'm sure. Are you by chance any relation to Mr Thomas Farraday of Winchelsea?'

'My great uncle, sir,' Julia replied, watching an exchange of glances between the officer and Sir Henry, which brought to mind the night of the ball in Rye and the same look of recognition between Gerald Hamilton and Timothy Danvers.

'Are you acquainted with him, Lieutenant?'

The officer smiled grimly. 'Indeed I am, Miss Farraday.

'With smuggling still rampant on the Sussex Coast, despite the end of the war, it is my business to keep an eye on what goes on in the district.'

'But how does that affect my great uncle?' asked Julia puzzled.

Lieutenant Wareham cleared his throat and looked briefly at Sir Henry before answering.

'Although your great uncle is elderly, he is very much aware of what goes on, Miss Farraday. He also has very large stables for someone who keeps only a horse and gig. Unscrupulous smugglers are often in need of storage for their illicit trade, and we've had reason in the past to believe that Mr Farraday's stables have been used for that purpose, with or without his knowledge or consent.

'To be fair, most people hereabouts are too frightened to oppose the smugglers and try to stay on the right side of them.'

Here, Lieutenant Wareham's face hardened. 'But we must stamp out this murderous trade that is costing innocent lives and also costing the country a fortune in revenue, which only profits our enemies.'

Julia was taken aback by the officer's outburst, and saw Captain Martin's look of surprise. Sir Henry interrupted to mollify Lieutenant Wareham and soothe Julia.

'Let us not worry the ladies with such talk. Miss Farraday is new to our district and we want her to enjoy it. Come, let us continue on to the church so we can show her the view from the terrace.'

Lieutenant Wareham's face relaxed into an affable smile. He took his watch from his pocket and looked at the time.

'Regretfully, I have some pressing business on the other side of town and I see I am going to be late. Otherwise I would have been delighted to join you,' and with a bow, he and the captain continued on their way, leaving the group to continue their climb to the summit.

They returned to The George later in the afternoon for refreshments and had only just seated themselves when Susan turned to Julia and announced, 'I see Mr Hamilton has also decided to visit the town today.'

Indeed, there was the gentleman himself, accompanied by the somewhat dandified young Mr Danvers who was dressed in the height of fashion.

On seeing the Wentworth party, Mr Hamilton crossed the room towards them, a wide smile lighting up his face. With pleasantries exchanged between them, he introduced his companion, Mr Danvers, who presented a fine bow to the ladies and proceeded to converse with Susan and Caroline much to the young ladies' delight.

Mr Hamilton turned to Julia. 'How are you enjoying your visit to Rye, Miss Farraday?'

'Very much, thank you. We have just returned from the terrace and the view was splendid.'

'I am relieved to hear it. Also that you do not appear to have tripped or had any unfortunate accidents while there.'

He grinned in such a mischievous way that Julia couldn't help but smile back even as the colour rose in her cheeks, remembering how he had caught her in his arms at the ball.

'Do you ride, Miss Farraday?' he asked, still gazing into her eyes.

'Why, yes, but not terribly well.'

In fact it was one of the few accomplishments that Julia had not mastered completely, purely for lack of opportunity.

'I'm not even sure whether my great uncle keeps any horses suitable for riding now.'

'My goodness, you do surprise me!' said Gerald Hamilton in mock alarm.

'And he has those enormous stables. Perhaps I may be permitted to lend you a mount. I do assure you that I have a quiet mare that might suit you very well. Not like the colt you saw me riding in the village,' he added teasingly.

'You are most kind, sir,' said Julia, smiling back. 'But I must confess that my expertise on horseback might not be good enough, even for your quiet mare.'

'Allow me to be the judge of that. Would you permit me to call on you and bring the mare so we can see if you will suit each other?'

Her great uncle's words suddenly came back to her, but looking into those brown eyes that seemed so full of kindness and concern for her wellbeing, any hesitation she felt just melted away.

'I will naturally ask your great uncle's permission. However, as we have dealt well together in the past, I can see no problem from that quarter,' and he smiled again.

The words of Mrs Talbot and her great uncle concerning Gerald Hamilton's reputation flooded again into her mind, but she deliberately thrust them from her. He was being so kind and so charming, just like Philip.

She pushed the negative thoughts away. Why, if he considered himself a friend of her great uncle's and was willing to call on him to discuss the loan of the mare, surely there could be nothing wrong? Besides, how did she know if there was any truth in Mrs Talbot's remarks? It could all be just malicious gossip. As for her great uncle's remarks to her, he was obviously prejudiced in some way, and how accurate was his information anyway, the recluse that he was?

Lady Wentworth was now addressing Mr Hamilton in a most amiable fashion; surely they would not be so intimate with the gentleman if there was any serious scandal?

Julia decided that she must convince her great uncle that any friendship with Mr Hamilton was purely platonic and would never be of a romantic nature.

Julia felt better immediately and joined the tea table with a sudden surge of appetite that surprised her. Everyone ate and chatted merrily, until finally Sir Henry announced that they had better start their journey back to Winchelsea.

As they were about to leave, Julia turned to Mr Hamilton and asked, 'May I inquire how you knew on the night of the ball who I was, and that I had left Court, and that I was staying with my great uncle?'

His smile was disingenuous. 'Why, Miss Farraday, I can assure you your arrival has been the source of much interest and discussion in our sleepy village. But, I must admit,' and he leaned closer, 'after seeing you for myself in Winchelsea, I made my own inquiries.'

Julia felt a tingle of pleasure but said no more. Gerald Hamilton gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they said goodbye and promised to call upon her in the next few days, leaving Julia in a state of keen anticipation for what their next meeting might bring.

## Chapter Six

'If you see the stable door setting open wide'

The next morning after breakfast Julia decided to investigate the stables for herself. Taking her sketchbook with her she walked into the garden and looked around. Apart from Wyatt, the odd job man, who was digging in the garden, it was deserted. Retracing her footsteps, Julia skirted around the side of the house and headed down the path to the large building which comprised the stables. On arriving she found a large heavy door, which, to her surprise, swung open easily and quietly, its hinges well oiled. Julia peered into the gloom.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light inside but she could see clearly that the stables were empty as she breathed in the smell of the straw under her feet and the pervasive aroma of horse. The stalls running along the side were deserted except for empty water barrels. In the middle of the floor area was a dusty gig sitting forlornly by itself and behind it under a large canvas cover was an old-fashioned barouche, which looked as though it hadn't been used for years. Apart from a few wooden trestles there appeared to be nothing else. The harness room was filled with a few neglected saddles, bridles and other tack hanging on the walls, and the loft above her was empty too.

Julia again checked the stalls to see if she had missed anything, but apart from a canvas cover lying on the floor and a well fed cat asleep in one of the feed boxes, nothing.

She opened the door into the daylight. The dark silhouette of a tall man stood there and Julia let out an involuntary shriek of shock.

'Is there something I can help you with, Miss?' She looked directly into the probing eyes of Wyatt.

'Oh, you startled me! Yes. Yes. A friend has offered me the loan of a horse for riding.' Julia was aware she was gabbling but plunged on. 'I wanted to see if there was sufficient room... well, I see there is,' she ended lamely, aware by the look on his unpleasant face that he didn't believe her for a moment.

'Excuse me, Wyatt.' Julia moved past him and marched out, head up, heart pounding, aware of his cold eyes on her retreating back.

'I really will have to speak to my great uncle about Mr Hamilton's proposal,' she thought.

Her mind went over the words he had used to describe Gerald Hamilton and her heart sank. Perhaps it would be wiser to say nothing at all, as, who knows, maybe nothing would come of the loan of the mare. Besides, Gerald Hamilton had said he would ask her great uncle's permission and did not seem to harbour any apprehension at all. Well, she would say nothing, and see how events unfolded.

But those stables so large and unused yet clean and maintained. The words of Lieutenant Wareham and Gerald Hamilton in Rye came to mind and the memory of Wyatt at the stable doorway made her shiver. She entered the house, relieved to be inside.

On Monday afternoon, a horse and rider came trotting sedately up Mr Farraday's driveway. Mr Hamilton presented himself to Ridges like an old friend and was duly received by Great Uncle Thomas.

Julia had been sketching the view of the countryside from the rear of the garden, determined not to be put off by the surly Wyatt and was only aware of a visitor when a flustered Smithers appeared before her. Julia at once returned to the house, attended as quickly as possible to her toilette, and retired downstairs in haste, hoping she would be called upon to act as hostess.

She waited in the drawing room in trepidation, longing to know how the interview was going between the two men. After some thirty minutes, an excited Molly appeared before her and asked Miss to please step into the morning room, and there she encountered the two men. Her great uncle looked flushed and bright-eyed while Mr Hamilton's face wore a sardonic smile.

'Well, Miss,' her great uncle boomed at her. 'It appears you want to go gallivanting around the countryside. Mr Hamilton here is offering you the loan of one of his nags. Well, what do you say?' He leaned forward, glaring at her.

'Why, thank you, Mr Hamilton. I appreciate your offer. It's been a long time since I have ridden and I'm afraid I'm not very experienced,' said Julia, very much aware of her shortcomings in the saddle.

'I'm quite sure that can be remedied with practise,' Hamilton answered, his eyes suddenly serious. 'I would be only too happy to escort you on your first excursion,' and he turned to look at her great uncle.

There was a studied silence for a moment while that gentleman seemed to be struggling to say something. His colour mounted and finally he muttered, 'Very well then. I can't let Wyatt run about the district escorting you willy nilly. As for the cost of feeding the...'

Here, Gerald Hamilton interrupted. 'I'll send my groom over with feed and the mare can graze in the field by day. All Wyatt will have to do is stable and groom her for Miss Farraday.'

Great Uncle Thomas muttered something under his breath.

Julia turned and asked Gerald, 'Pray tell me, what is the mare called?'

'Athene, and she has all the wisdom of the goddess for whom she was named. Regrettably though, she lacks the power but in your case that will not be a disadvantage, I'm sure,' and he smiled conspiratorially at her.

Julia forced herself to look away from Gerald Hamilton. She suddenly remembered her duties as hostess but their guest refused all offers of refreshments. He announced that he would return tomorrow afternoon with his groom and the mare Athene, and he bowed civilly to them both before departing in what appeared to be a fine good humour, taking leave of a bemused and happy Julia and a decidedly grumpy and out of sorts, Mr Farraday.

## Chapter Seven

'If you see a tired horse lying down inside'

Smithers placed the tray with Julia's morning chocolate on the bedside table, crossed over to the window and pulled back the curtains to expose a grey and drizzly Tuesday morning.

'It's going to be wet for your riding today, Miss Julia,' she stated bluntly.

Julia yawned and stretched back on to the pillows. 'Bother.'

She reached out to pick up the chocolate and sipped it reflectively, looking out at the misty rain. Smithers started to lay out Julia's clothing, and then from the large wardrobe took out her riding habit.

'I will go and press this, though with all that rain outside I'm sure it's hardly worth it,' she grumbled.

Julia suppressed a smile. Smithers disliked horses and considered riding a dangerous occupation for any female. Julia wasn't sure if she didn't agree with her.

She had spent an anxious time going through her wardrobe with Smithers to refurbish her old riding habit, which appeared sadly out of date. Though having had little use it was still in good condition. The grey cloth with black trim and matching hat was cut in military style that showed her figure off to good advantage, so hopefully Mr Hamilton wouldn't object that it wasn't in the first style of fashion.

'If you feel that it is suitable as it is then leave it as there is nobody to see me, apart from Mr Hamilton,' her mistress said mischievously, knowing full well the response she would receive.

Smithers looked suitably shocked.

'Of course it must be pressed! You could not possibly go out looking like a drab!'

Shaking her head and muttering at the very thought of Julia's lowered standards, Smithers left the bedroom while Julia began to feel a twinge of guilt for teasing her maid.

By noon, a pale sun had appeared and the weather started to improve. It was with some surprise that Julia was informed by Molly that she had visitors. On entering the drawing room she found not the expected Mr Hamilton, but the two Miss Wentworth's, both looking charming in primrose and sky blue.

After the first greetings it was Susan, who, seeing Julia attired in her riding habit, said, 'Have we come at an inconvenient time, Julia? Are you about to go riding?'

Before Julia could answer her, Molly appeared at the door to announce that Mr Hamilton had arrived and all were swept out to look at the mare, complete with a ladies side-saddle and a groom in attendance.

Julia felt embarrassed and self-conscious in front of an audience, but allowed herself to be mounted on Athene, and indeed the mare behaved beautifully just as Mr Hamilton had said she would. The groom led her around and then passed over the reins to let the mare go through her paces with Julia in control, while the watching onlookers gave their encouragement.

'Enough!' said Gerald Hamilton after twenty minutes and he went over to her side. As she slipped out of the saddle into his waiting arms, she felt her colour rise. He held her closely for perhaps an instant too long before her feet touched the ground. The strength of those arms and the intensity in his eyes held her spellbound for a moment.

She became aware that he was speaking, addressing her. 'As you have visitors presently, perhaps this hour tomorrow would be convenient for me to escort you on your first excursion?'

She nodded her agreement blindly as the groom handed Athene to Wyatt who had joined the watching group. Both Susan and Caroline begged Julia to continue with her lesson for they would soon be departing.

Wyatt led Athene to the stables, Mr Hamilton left, and both Miss Wentworth's and Julia were soon back in the morning room where Molly brought them a welcome dish of tea.

'How very kind of Mr Hamilton to loan you a horse, Julia. Do you enjoy riding very much?' enquired Susan.

'I should think Mr Hamilton would much rather Julia had his horse so he could go riding with her,' said Caroline slyly. 'I think that Mr Hamilton has a tendresse for Julia, otherwise why would he lend her his horse?'

'Caroline!' Susan, threw her sister a horrified look. 'Oh Julia, I am sorry. Caroline is very young and doesn't realise what she is saying.' Susan turned, agitated, to glare at her sister.

Caroline tossed her golden curls and shook her shoulders, but gazed right back at her sister and remarked, 'You may say what you will Susan, but I feel sure that Mr Hamilton would no more lend you or me his mare than any other person in the parish, so there. And if that doesn't tell you something, then I'm sure I don't know what would,' she added triumphantly.

Susan turned to her hostess in helpless confusion, but by this time Julia could see the humour in the situation and with a shrug and a little laugh poured more tea. She pacified the situation by changing the subject, diverting the sisters to talk of other things.

Of greatest interest was Susan's expected departure to her Aunt Maria's and the forthcoming London season. This would occur within the next fortnight, and here Caroline added pertly, that a certain gentleman would be looking forward to Susan's return, drawing a flush to that lady's cheek and a flash of anger to the eye, as she exclaimed to her sister.

'Really, Caroline, you are becoming impossible! I shall tell Mama of your unbecoming conduct.'

This drew an immediate apology from an abashed Caroline, and the harmony at the tea table was immediately restored so that the visit ended with the prospect of further visits before Susan's departure.

At three o'clock the following afternoon, Mr Hamilton appeared, this time without his groom. Before she could comment on this, Julia was lifted into the saddle by him while a surly Wyatt held Athene. In no time at all they were heading down the driveway and out onto the open road. Here her escort suggested they turn and head to the marshes and the horses gait quickened from a walk to an easy trot. After seeing how relaxed both the mare and her rider were, Gerald quickened the pace to a canter, and soon they were in open country enjoying the warmth of the sun and the soft breeze from the sea.

Julia had forgotten how delightful riding could be with a good mount and an understanding escort, and thoroughly enjoyed the outing. After an hour, Gerald Hamilton suggested that perhaps they should return home and it was with some reluctance that she agreed.

As the horses walked side by side, she watched the sea birds circling above the coast, and out at sea the sails of a ship making its way back to port. Only then did she realise in the silence around them that they were quite alone. No groom had accompanied them and Julia wondered about the propriety of this.

As if he could read her thoughts, Gerald Hamilton turned to her. He smiled and said, 'I trust that your reputation will not be lost if you are seen out riding alone with me, Miss Farraday?'

'No, no. I probably should have asked Wyatt to accompany us. However as you are well aware, my great uncle has no riding horses, so...' and here she shrugged her shoulders and smiled back at him.

He laughed out loud, causing Athene to toss her head and side step a little, and Julia put all her attention to keeping the mare steady.

'Yes, I did know that and although I could have brought my groom, I thought it might be a chance for us to get to know one another a little better, Miss Farraday. Oh dear, that does sound so formal, and as we are both well past the schoolroom, may I call you Julia? Dare I tell you it is my favourite name? Please do call me Gerald, for, after all,' he leaned forward, grinning like a schoolboy, 'we are almost neighbours, aren't we?'

She couldn't disagree with him on either count and although her great uncle's words again sprang to mind, she found herself automatically nodding her assent. When he next addressed her using her name she thought how pleasant it sounded coming from his lips.

'Timothy Danvers returned to town this morning, Julia, and asked me to give you his kind regards, and he hopes to renew your acquaintance in the future.'

'Why, that is most kind of him.'

For a moment she could think of nothing to say, then remembering Sir Henry's words on the way back from the ball, Julia enquired confidentially, 'I believe you have lived in India, Gerald?'

The look he sent her was sharp. 'Who told you that?'

For a moment she was nonplussed. 'Why...Sir Henry told me.'

'Oh.' He laughed briefly, and his features softened though he said nothing further.

'I'm sorry. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned it. It is just, you see,' and she gave him an imploring look, 'my parents were in India, in Calcutta, where they died of fever,' she stumbled over the last word as he suddenly leant across to take her hand.

'No, I'm sorry Julia.'

His look was one of deep concern. How quickly his moods and expressions changed, she thought, with will o' the wisp randomness or were they for theatrical effect?

'You were not there, in India, then?' she pressed on.

'No, I was in Madras.' He had removed his hand and was looking straight ahead, his expression unfathomable. 'Oh well,' and with a rather forced laugh he turned to her again. 'That was twelve years ago and I thought it had been forgotten by now. Come, let us trot home. We must not overdo your first day's ride.'

As they reached the entrance to her home and rode towards the stables, he spoke again.

'I regret that I have business to attend to in Rye tomorrow. However, if it is convenient for you, would Friday afternoon suit for another outing?'

Julia agreed it would and then suddenly they were in the stable yard. Wyatt ambled forward but Gerald had already alighted from his horse and quickly assisted Julia from Athene.

'Farewell until Friday. Though to be sure it's going to seem more like a week than a day until I see you again.'

Julia felt the full impact of his eyes, which seemed to be searching hers with an intensity she couldn't fathom. Then, with a quick press of her hand, he sprang back into the saddle, gave a salute, and trotted smartly off.

Julia gave the unwilling Wyatt his instructions to cool Athene thoroughly down after her outing and she returned to the house, her mind a whirl of impatience for what Friday might bring.

## Chapter Eight

'If your mother mends a coat

cut about and tore'

After breakfast on Thursday morning, Julia went as usual to her great uncle's room to enquire how he was and to read him the Morning Post. As she entered, it was with some surprise to find Wyatt in attendance and neither man seemed pleased to see her.

'Well, Miss, what is it, what is it?'

Her great uncle seemed tetchier than ever, with a high colour in his cheeks. The look she received from Wyatt was positively malevolent. Julia offered to withdraw as she had only come to read the newspaper and if it was inconvenient then she would return later.

'No, no. Stay now that you're here.'

Her great uncle shuffled some papers before him and told Wyatt, 'Remember what I said and don't let any damn fool tell you different. Remember it well. Now go,' and he gestured violently towards the door.

Wyatt inclined his head and sloped past Julia. His hand on the door handle, he smiled slyly at her then said, 'You will not be going riding today, Miss?'

'No, Wyatt. As I told you yesterday, I will not be going out again until Friday.'

The men looked at one another and then Wyatt withdrew. Julia noticed her great uncle was breathing heavily and appeared agitated. He waved her away as she went over to him and told her to sit and commence reading.

On the third page, the announcement she read caused her throat to constrict and set her heart pounding.

'Earl's heir tragically killed in carriage accident. Viscount Illingham, heir to the Earl of Rosyth, was killed instantly when his curricle overturned on the London road near Dorking. The Viscount's widow had only recently given birth to a third daughter. The new heir is now the deceased's brother, the Honourable Philip Alexander Justin Stratton, who is an equerry to Her Majesty Queen Charlotte.'

Here, Julia broke off. Feeling her great uncle's eyes fixed upon her, she struggled to compose herself.

'Are you quite well, Julia?'

It was the first time she could remember her great uncle addressing her by her Christian name, and that in itself added to her confusion as he leaned forward, peering at her distressed state. His hand reached out for the bell on his desk and he rang it loudly. Mrs Knight promptly answered the summons and entered.

Mr Farraday barked, 'Brandy, quickly now!'

Mrs Knight lifted the decanter from the dresser, poured a tumbler full and the next thing Julia knew the fiery liquid was running down her throat, causing her to cough and splutter.

'Easy now,' said Great Uncle Thomas solicitously. 'That's the best cognac you're taking down. Just sit quietly.'

Julia was only too conscious of Mrs Knight staring anxiously at her, and murmured that she really was feeling very much better. After assuring the good lady that she would rest for a while, Mrs Knight departed, leaving her alone with her great uncle.

Silence reigned, his eyes never leaving her face. Finally, to ease the situation, Julia explained.

'I knew Philip Stratton at Court and it was a shock to read of his brother's death. Philip is a fine person.' Here she faltered. 'I did not mean to be so overcome. I'm sorry. I'll continue reading.'

'No. That's enough for today. Go and rest. You've obviously had a shock. I intended speaking to you, but not now. I suggest quite strongly that tonight you take a sleeping draught to help you sleep and I will speak to Knight to arrange it. There could be some activity tonight, noises and such like. Take no notice. On no account get up or light candles.

'Now off you go and I will speak to you tomorrow. Remember what I have just said.'

He stood up slowly and once again Julia felt surprised at how tall he was.

Julia bobbed him a curtsy and, somewhat taken aback, left the room. Mrs Knight immediately pounced on her and she led Julia to the housekeeper's room where Molly was instructed to bring tea.

Mrs Knight bowed her head gravely when Julia explained the circumstances of her upset. Julia sipped some hot tea and then inquired innocently into her great uncle's comments on possible activity in the night ahead and the offer of a sleeping draught. Mrs Knight visibly stiffened.

Looking around as if expecting to be overheard, she stated in a low voice, 'Sometimes travellers from abroad pass through in the night, depending on the tide, and the sound of hoof beats and carriages could be disturbing. Still, do not worry. I'm sure there is no reason at all why we should be disturbed, and really, Mr Farraday's advice is wise so why not take advantage of it?'

Julia decided to say no more on the subject except that she felt much better and as she was a good sleeper she would not require the sleeping draught. Her thoughts, however, were in turmoil for it would appear there was going to be a smuggler's run tonight unless she was very much mistaken. Her great uncle must think her a complete fool if she hadn't interpreted his warning. And now the housekeeper was also alluding to it.

A tingle of fear ran down her spine though her face wore a smile and she graciously asked, 'Please excuse me, Mrs Knight, for I must go and write a letter of condolence to the new Viscount Illingham.'

## Chapter Nine

'If the lining's wet and warm'

The night was black and windy when Julia retired to her room. After blowing the candles out she tried to settle down to sleep but her mind was racing with the events of the day.

Philip Stratton, now the heir to Sharnborough! It seemed somehow unreal.

The warning of her great uncle that there could be noises in the night, which even Mrs Knight had alluded to, could only mean one thing. Smugglers!

Julia shivered despite the warmth of the bed and tried instead to concentrate her thoughts on the excursion next day with Gerald Hamilton. Finally sleep overtook her.

It was with some surprise that she was awakened some hours later by the noise of carriage wheels, which seemed to be almost outside her bedroom window. Remembering her great uncle's words, she lay there for a moment. Then curiosity got the better of her. She arose in the darkness and went to the window, cautiously pulling the curtain aside.

It took a moment or so for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Although there were no lights visible, she could discern the outline of a closed carriage and what looked like pack horses and outriders in a tight formation, moving around by the stables. There were muffled sounds but on the whole it was comparatively quiet. Julia, dreading what to think, went back to bed and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

But not for long! Galloping hooves and torches shedding light woke her. A loud authoritative voice demanded, 'Open, in the name of the King!'

Julia leapt from her bed, threw her shawl over her nightdress and, grasping a taper in her hand, rushed downstairs. Ridges unbolted the front door as Lieutenant Wareham and other revenue men burst in.

'Miss Farraday.' Lieutenant Wareham looked surprised to see her. Julia took in his stained dusty appearance and how drawn and strained he looked although his eyes were keen enough.

'Lieutenant! What brings you here at this hour of the night?'

As soon as she said those words, Julia was aware of how inane they sounded. Yet she must appear unaware of anything amiss, seeing Ridges' worried face beside the door and knowing Mrs Knight and the other servants behind her were quavering with fright.

'There has been a run tonight and the smugglers have been in this vicinity. I need to search the house for any suspects or any contraband. My men will do the same in the grounds and the stables.' His voice was stern and his face severe.

Trembling, she invited the officer to step into the morning room. He opened his mouth as if to speak but Julia turned abruptly and led the way, asking Mrs Knight if she would light the candles. After a brief conference with his men, Lieutenant Wareham joined her.

While Mrs Knight lit the candles, Julia's mind was racing. Hearing the sound of booted feet and the slam of the front door, she knew his men were in the grounds where there were sure to be obvious signs of the horses and carriage that had called earlier. Heaven only knew what they might find in the stables. Her great uncle had not come downstairs so she would have to speak for him.

Lieutenant Wareham was obviously no fool. Her only option was to be honest with him.

'Tell me, Miss Farraday, have you had visitors tonight?'

'No, Lieutenant Wareham. However...'

'Yes!' His voice and look were sharp.

'Please, will you tell me what this is all about?'

Julia was sure she knew what was coming, but felt compelled to try and keep control of the situation.

He looked grim. 'There was a run tonight. We had information and thought to intercept them but their numbers were too great. One of my men was shot, mortally. He was a married man with a family. Tomorrow, no, today, I must see his widow.' His face hardened. 'As I asked you...'

'I will tell you all that has passed here tonight.' Julia was aware her voice was trembling, but kept her eyes fixed on her interrogator.

'At about midnight, although I cannot be sure of the time, I was awoken by the sound of horses and a carriage. I looked out of the window, but it was so dark I really couldn't see properly. They all seemed to go around to the stables and after that I went back to bed, and now you have arrived.'

'Did any member of your household join these men?'

'No, no. I'm sure they didn't.'

Even as she uttered these words, Julia was aware that of course she had no way of knowing this. At the back entrance to the house and the servants' door, anything could have occurred.

'I'm afraid we will have to search the house.'

Julia gasped. 'Is this really necessary? My great uncle...'

'Yes, I'm afraid it is.'

There was a knock on the door and a dishevelled revenue man entered. He spoke to the Lieutenant in a low tone, then was dismissed.

'Yes. You certainly had visitors but they have now fled. I have another party of men searching the area. I would like to inspect the house and interview your servants and Mr Farraday.'

Everything happened in a whirl. Both Mrs Knight and Ridges went with the lieutenant and one of his men on the inspection of the house while Julia went to fetch her great uncle. As she approached his room she could hear his angry voice and other upraised male voices coming from inside his room. She decided she was better off where she was.

Smithers interrupted her with the news that the cook was having hysterics and Molly was trying to coax Hetty and Annie from under their beds. They were afraid of being murdered on the spot.

With a heartfelt sigh, Julia hurried off to calm them and to bring some semblance of order to a very disrupted household.

Fortunately, Mrs Knight in a harassed state appeared, confirming to the revenue men that all the servants were accounted for. When Julia returned from calming the maids, Lieutenant Wareham reappeared, looking out of sorts, and announced that everything seemed to be in order.

'You are fortunate, Miss Farraday, that whoever the smugglers were, they have not disturbed your stables or grounds beyond repair,' said Lieutenant Wareham grimly.

'Certainly nothing has been found. I apologise for disturbing you. However, they were here, of that there is no doubt. Whether it was with the connivance of some member of this house, I do not know.' He was looking at her sharply. 'Pray, what is it?'

Julia took a deep breath, aware that her thoughts had expressed themselves on her face.

'Wyatt. He is the only person who works for my great uncle who is not here tonight. He lives in the village and comes in daily to do the garden and other odd jobs'

For a moment she faltered. Her active dislike of Jeb Wyatt had made her speak out but she felt suddenly guilty. He seemed to be such a favourite of her great uncle and she couldn't help wondering if by speaking out she had put Great Uncle Thomas in a precarious position. She dismissed the thought immediately, for if the servants were being questioned, they would surely admit the same thing.

Her voice trailed off, his eyes watching her intently.

'Ah yes, of course. Jeb Wyatt. Hmmm. Well, we'll just have to see what story he has to offer on tonight's affair. Thank you, your servant, Miss Farraday.'

And with a hasty bow and a quick about turn, Lieutenant Wareham left the room. In a short while Julia heard the front door shut and the sound of horses galloping down the driveway.

After the disturbed night, it was a rather subdued household the next morning. Straight after breakfast, Julia decided to go outside and take a look for herself. There was no sign of Wyatt but plenty of signs of their visitors in the night. The flower beds were crushed and the lawns trampled, not to mention horse droppings deposited everywhere.

Julia entered the stables and walked along the stalls. Of Athene there was no sign. The gig was in its normal position but where the old fashioned barouche usually stood, there was just an empty space as if it had never been there at all.

She met an anxious-looking Ridges as she returned to the house. Briefly, she told him of her visit to the stables and what was missing.

He nodded gravely and in a hushed voice said, 'Don't worry, Miss. Everything will be returned in a day or two.' He cast around to ensure they were alone and added, 'It's happened before and best to just wait and everything will be as it was.'

Julia couldn't question the wisdom of his statement, and on explaining the situation to her great uncle, his comments to her were the same as Ridges.

Her mood was not improved by the visit of Gerald's groom with a note that Molly brought her. He was apologising because unexpected business had forced him to cancel their proposed ride that afternoon. Instead, he would like to have the pleasure of her company on Monday.

In fact the only consolation she had that day occurred when sketching in the garden later that afternoon, where she caught sight of Wyatt attempting to tidy up the flower garden in a desultory fashion and he sported a magnificent black eye.

On Sunday in church, it seemed a very subdued congregation. Nobody wanted to linger afterwards, choosing instead to hurry home.

Julia felt many eyes in her direction, but it was the vicar who took her to one side and asked, 'I believe Mr Farraday was paid a visit by the revenue men on Thursday last?'

Julia stated that this was so, whereupon he gave her a searching look and then said, ponderously, 'So unfortunate. However, I'm sure things will settle down presently.'

Beside him, Mrs Talbot nodded her head in agreement and peeped nervously around her as if expecting to see someone lurking nearby outside in the church grounds.

* * *

Back at home, Julia expected a quiet afternoon as it was raining heavily so she was taken by surprise when Molly announced there was a visitor to see her. A tired and dripping wet Lieutenant Wareham was ushered in.

After begging him to be seated and instructing the maid to bring tea, Julia turned her attention to her visitor.

'My apologies, ma'am, for the intrusion last week. However, it really was necessary.'

'Have you been successful in your pursuit of the smugglers, Lieutenant?'

'No, not really. It would appear they divided and scattered. My other search party located an empty carriage that had certainly been used. However, regretfully, nothing of consequence.'

As briefly as she could, Julia explained about the loss of Athene and the barouche. The lieutenant brightened, immediately asking if he could visit the stables. Julia rang for Smithers to fetch her cloak and she escorted Lieutenant Wareham to that building.

In her stall, muddy and looking decidedly weary, stood Athene. In its usual position but also looking the worse for wear, was the barouche. They both looked at each other.

'This is the way of things here,' the Lieutenant said grimly. 'Just ask no questions and with luck, all will be well. It's obvious they used both the horse and the carriage, and now they are returned to you. No doubt there will be payment in kind for their usage.' His tone was contemptuous.

They returned to the house where Molly was waiting with the tea and hot buttered muffins. Julia poured immediately and together they sat, eating the muffins and pondering over the facts.

'As we can see by the wet mud on the horse and the barouche, they have only recently been returned, but by whom we'll never know as nobody will talk.' He studied his cup and swallowed the last of his muffin.

'It was Mr Farraday's carriage that was used to confuse my troops. Whatever or whoever was in the first carriage was transferred to your barouche and it quietly disappeared into the night while the men were led away, chasing the original one, a decoy. When my men finally captured the carriage, they found it empty.'

'Did you question Jeb Wyatt?'

'Oh yes, we did. He had certainly been in a fight but he had witnesses to vouch for him and we have nothing to prove he was involved.'

Swallowing the last of his tea, the revenue officer rose wearily to his feet. Julia accompanied him to the hallway.

'If by any chance you should hear any village gossip pertaining to this affair, I need not tell you how grateful I would be to be kept informed.'

She inclined her head in acquiescence and entered the hallway where Ridges was posted by the door. With a brief nod of thanks, Lieutenant Wareham collected his gloves, allowed Ridges to assist him with his greatcoat and left the house to go outside into the drizzling rain.

## Chapter Ten

'Don't you ask no more'

Julia spent a restless night and awoke heavy eyed and listless. Sipping her morning chocolate, she reflected on the previous week and all that had happened. On reporting the return of the barouche and horse to her great uncle, she received a mere nod, as if to say, 'I told you so.'

On asking Ridges if he could have Athene groomed and checked out thoroughly for any hurt she may have suffered, he looked harassed and said Wyatt would be in that morning and no doubt would know what to do for the mare.

With some trepidation Julia changed into an old dress, borrowed an apron from Mrs Knight, and went to the stables herself where she did her best to tidy Athene. Fortunately, the horse appeared to have suffered no ill effects from her mysterious journey apart from losing some skin off her back leg. She eagerly ate the oats and feed Julia found for her.

And that wasn't all she found!

In the next stall was a keg, which one sniff confirmed it to be French brandy, plus a package tied up in oil cloth that contained a length of exquisite Mechlin lace. Her first impulse was to report the finding to Lieutenant Wareham, but after reflecting on it, she decided she would wait and see what the next few days would bring. Further developments may occur.

Immediately after reading to her great uncle she returned to the stables and there was Wyatt, grooming Athene. His black eye was still visible giving him an even more brutish appearance. Not to be put off, Julia advised him that she would be going riding at three o'clock and please have the mare ready.

As she turned to depart, Wyatt spoke gruffly. 'I hear there's been a revenue man here?'

Julia took a deep breath and steadied herself. 'Yes. No doubt you are aware of what occurred on Thursday night?'

He looked hard at her. 'The whole village knows.'

He moved forward menacingly and she instinctively shrank back.

'It's not wise to have social calls from revenue men. The less you have to do with them the better. Do you understand me?'

Julia felt herself trembling, but held her head high and simply nodded, afraid to speak for fear her voice would betray her.

'Good.' He spat contemptuously on to the ground. 'Remember it.'

Dismissing her, he turned back to the horse while Julia forced herself to walk at a leisurely pace back to the house when all she wanted to do was run. She was seething at the effrontery of the man. Her fingers twisted her mother's ring in agitation. She would speak to her great uncle. Wyatt must be dismissed. Her cheeks burned and she felt humiliated. She also felt real fear from the ruthlessness she sensed within Wyatt.

Julia was greatly relieved when she saw Gerald Hamilton ride up and after exchanging the usual pleasantries they were soon outside the gates, riding towards the marshes. They didn't gallop for too long as Julia wanted to be easy on Athene. As they walked together, she told Gerald all that had occurred since she had last seen him.

She had the feeling that most of it he already knew but his face looked grave as she finished with her account of Wyatt's rudeness. It was some minutes before he spoke, his eyes full of concern.

'Wyatt has been with your great uncle for many years. It's been long known hereabouts that Wyatt has had some connection with the smuggling trade but the same could have been said of many others. The Hawkhurst gang you may have heard about. They were a group of murdering smugglers who were tried and hung at Tyburn for their crimes in the area years ago. Since their execution, and since the recent peace agreement was signed and the Bourbon's were returned to rule France, extensive smuggling in this area has diminished considerably.

'At least the free trade agreement between both countries has reduced the scale of smuggling from what it was, say, thirty years ago. In this situation though, it would appear it was not necessarily goods that were the prize.'

Julia reined in Athene. She had had difficulty believing that brandy had been carried in the barouche. It was clearer now.

'Yes. I see. The use of the carriage seems to indicate it was a person or personages that were transported here and smuggled ashore. But why?'

He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

'It could be someone with a price on his head wanted by the French Government. The possibilities are endless, and,' he grinned at her playfully, 'we could go mad thinking of the different possibilities. Let's gallop to the far stand of trees and see if you can beat me.'

Gerald won the race though he gallantly tried to let Julia win. She felt so comfortable with him. She looked out to sea. There was little activity in the channel. They let the horses relax and nibble grass, and the soft breeze fanned their faces. His next comments shocked her into rigidity.

'As you no doubt know, Mr Farraday is regarded as a very warm man in these parts and it would seem unlikely that he would be mixed up in any smuggling on the coast.'

He cast a sharp glance at her and realised immediately he had offended.

'My apologies, Julia, if I have spoken out of turn, but how well do you know your great uncle?'

His look was searching.

Julia related to him her early history and finished with her present situation. There was silence for some time as he digested this. In the background she heard the bleating of the sheep and the sound of birds calling and of horses munching on the grass.

'Mr Farraday is reported to be worth fifty thousand pounds a year and whether that's all due to his East India trading or other ventures is anybody's guess.'

He skewed around in the saddle to look at her again. 'As his sole relative and one must assume heir, this leaves you in a very enviable situation. After all, your great uncle is very old now and who knows how much longer he will live.' Gerald shrugged his shoulders.

Julia said nothing. She was shaken and didn't know whether to be offended by his comments or to treat them lightly. It was too serious a subject to dismiss but the sum he had mentioned was incredible. Surely he was mistaken or it was all hearsay? As her eyes met his, she realised he was far more aware of the facts than she was.

'Why Gerald, I had no idea! If what you have told me is true...I'm completely overwhelmed.' Fiddling with her riding gloves, she looked through her lashes sidelong at him.

'Perhaps, in light of this, I might find a suitor after all.'

His glance was very serious. 'Of that I have no doubt at all. Though why you should think your great uncle's fortune would be the main attraction, surprises me.'

Julia felt a surge of joy and smiled up happily at him. Suddenly he leaned across, and taking her hand, he kissed her wrist above her glove. Her heart pounded and a flush rose on her cheeks as he released her hand. She felt a feeling of contentment envelop her. Perhaps her future need not be so lonely or uncertain as she had always secretly feared.

Smiling, they urged their horses to a trot and in comfortable companionship headed home.

* * *

Julia, accompanied by the faithful Smithers, walked across to Wentworth Hall to say farewell to the family. They were leaving the next day for their London townhouse so Susan could enjoy the season. On entering the Hall, Julia and Smithers were met by an unusually flustered Lady Wentworth. Looking around her Julia could understand why.

Dust covers were being prepared to go over furniture, and upstairs, Susan and Caroline were busy with the maids sorting out what apparel and personal items were to go to London with them. Most of the servants were travelling to London as well while the house was closed so it was a large party to be organised.

'Oh, dear Julia,' cried Caroline. 'Do come and help me. Should I leave Lochinvar here with Mrs Carew or take him with me? Mama says that the journey in a jolting coach upsets his equilibrium, but if I leave him behind I am sure to miss him.'

In the girl's bedroom, portmanteaux and valises were open, and gowns, hats, scarves, shawls and shoes were scattered or draped over furniture and arms while weighty decisions were being made. As if aware of his importance and determined not to be overlooked, Lochinvar, squawking incessantly, cast Julia a beady eye. Julia looked at the parrot in his cage dispassionately. An imploring glance from Lady Wentworth was enough to show her where her loyalty must lie.

So long as she did not have to take the parrot home to Great Uncle Thomas, Julia was prepared to help out.

'My dear, Caroline, you will be so busy in London going out and about as well as visiting your cousins, that you will have no spare time to spend with Lochinvar. It is indeed a long journey and I remember your telling me that when you last brought him down from London, he was so put out that he went right off his food and sulked for days,' Julia reminded Caroline.

'Yes,' mused Caroline. 'That is true.'

'Besides, Mrs Carew your housekeeper, is an excellent woman and she will enjoy having Lochinvar with her for company while you are away.'

Caroline still did not look convinced.

'Furthermore, your visit is not going to be of a long duration and if it will make you happier, I will call on Mrs Carew and write to let you know how Lochinvar is.'

This much Julia did not mind doing.

'Oh, would you? Thank you, Julia. I feel much happier now. Indeed, Lockie can stay and you are right, Mrs Carew is fond of him and I know she will look after him for me.'

Lady Wentworth threw Julia a grateful glance while Susan interrupted crossly, 'Caroline, stop making such a fuss about Lockie and let Julia come and help me sort which dresses will be most in the current mode for London.'

Julia did not like to say that her knowledge of the current London fashions was probably now well out of date, but instead sat down on a chair and gave Susan what she hoped was the most appropriate advice. By the end of her visit, Julia felt almost as exhausted as the Wentworth ladies. Wisely, Sir Henry had retreated to his library and kept well out of the way of the tumult in his household.

Julia said her farewells, only then realising how much she was going to miss the easy informality of the Wentworth family in the coming weeks. Never having known an intimate family life since she was a child, she could not but help feel sad at their imminent departure.

She returned home and waiting for her on the hall stand was a letter from Philip Stratton, Viscount Illingham. He said he would be visiting in the district over the next few days and hoped to have the pleasure of calling upon her.

Julia felt a glow of pleasure at the thought of Philip's visit. It seemed so long ago, her time at Court, and she couldn't help wondering how he would appear to her now that his fortunes had changed and he was the heir to an earldom. Though the gossip was that with the massive debts his father had accumulated, he would still need to marry a wealthy heiress. Match-making mamas would be sure to take a great interest in him for things had changed and there was now a coronet to be had.

She was still in a state of confusion over the revelation of her great uncle's supposed fortune and put this out of her mind. She also tried to forget about Philip's proposed arrival. Instead, she concentrated her thoughts on the daily rides with Gerald for it was only these which seemed to offer constancy to her routine.

To be sure, since that light kiss to her hand, he had never tried to be familiar with her again and even seemed to be at times preoccupied. She recognised that her feelings for him were becoming more intense each time she was with him. The following Thursday afternoon as Julia was changing into her riding habit, she heard the sound of hoof beats on the drive, and with some trepidation she entered the drawing room to find Philip Stratton standing there.

He looked tired and drawn but his blue eyes lightened immediately as she walked into the room and his ready smile was just as she remembered it.

'My dear Miss Farraday! How very, very pleased I am to see you again after what seems to be an eternity.'

His smile grew further as he bent over her extended hand. 'Thank you for your kind expression of sympathy over the recent loss of my brother. As I was in the district I could not in all conscience leave without paying my compliments to one of my truest friends.'

Julia felt a rush of warmth. He was so unchanged, a true link with the past and life at Court which now seemed an eternity ago. After ringing for tea, they sat and chatted as old friends about acquaintances at Court, comfortable in each other's presence, unconscious of time slipping by.

Consequently, when Molly reappeared to announce the arrival of Gerald Hamilton, Julia found herself in a state less calm than she would have preferred.

Calling on her resources as hostess, it was with bright eyes and heightened colour that she introduced the two men. Both tall, one dark the other fair, they eyed each other speculatively, then Gerald swept a perfect bow and Philip inclined his head graciously. Conversation between them was polite but stilted and it was some relief to Julia when Philip announced his departure, adding that as he was staying with his Aunt Lady Furnbridge near Hastings for the next week, he hoped to be able to call on her again.

When he had left the room, Julia found Gerald's eyes fixed upon her, full of unasked questions. She immediately suggested they leave for their ride before the afternoon had passed. In silence he followed her down to the stables and they mounted up and headed towards the marshes.

As they slowed to a walk, Gerald, with a smile on his lips that didn't quite reach his eyes, said, 'It would appear, Julia, that perhaps you do have a suitor after all. Last time we were riding together you didn't seem to think you had one and suddenly you are visited by the noble Lord Illingham who seems to be on very intimate terms with you.'

Julia felt suddenly nettled and in a defensive tone replied, 'Nonsense, Gerald. Philip Stratton and I are friends from Court but I would be flattering myself immensely if I thought his feelings went deeper than that. Besides, now he is heir to the earldom, there will be plenty of young ladies of birth and fortune whose mamas will be only too happy to have him as a son-in-law.'

Gerald's eyes were intense as he looked at her.

'You underestimate your own attractions. You are of good birth and as your great uncle's heir, as I have mentioned before, you are most definitely suitable, if not desirable, for any thinking male, including His Lordship.'

The last was said with a wicked grin. 'Your blushes do you credit and are quite becoming.'

Hot and bothered, Julia tried to glare at him but it was impossible. He burst out laughing, catching her hand in his own and apologised if he'd caused her any mortification but really, what was a fellow to do? Still struggling to keep her emotions under control, Julia laughed with him.

'You are a tease, Mr Hamilton, and I will not let you get the better of me. As a confirmed bachelor in the neighbourhood, I must confess myself surprised that you are so well acquainted with the aspects of matrimony.'

His laugh was infectious. 'Oh, I promise you, Miss Farraday, I am very well aware of the machinations of zealous mamas and all that that entails.'

He leaned nearer, his lips close to her ear. 'However, I am not so old yet and perhaps I may yet be entrapped by the desirability of a certain party that will override my natural disinclination to enter the matrimonial state.'

Forcing herself not to laugh again, Julia burst out, 'Gerald, stop! You will have me in high expectation if you continue in this vein and as a defenceless female this is most unfair of you, sir. Well?' She raised her eyebrows and looked in him questioningly, but although he grinned back he lowered his eyes and said no more.

Feeling ridiculously pleased, Julia relinquished Athene to Wyatt on their arrival home and she went upstairs to change, humming a tune as she did so.

The next few days were busy ones; conferring with Mrs Knight on the running of the household and settling the tradesmen's bills as well as arranging for the chimneys to be swept.

The kitchen oven needed to be re-bricked, a matter Mrs Knight had discussed tentatively with Julia, as cook was complaining. On broaching the subject tactfully with Great Uncle Thomas, he had been surprisingly amiable about the matter and appeared unconcerned at the expense, the guarantee of better cooked meals was worth the expense.

All the while in the back of her mind, Julia was waiting in expectation of Philip's proposed visit.

A visit to Wentworth Hall established that Lochinvar was not pining for his mistress, but being thoroughly spoilt by the doting Mrs Carew. This Julia was happy to report in a letter to the family in London. A note arrived from Gerald stating that he had been called to London on unexpected business but looked forward to resuming their rides together on his return.

Great Uncle Thomas had developed a cold and Mrs Knight and Julia spent much of their time nursing him, trying to keep him entertained and in good humour. Smithers was full of the recent wedding of the Duke of Kent to the widow of the Prince of Leiningen, and the forthcoming nuptials of the Duke of Clarence to Princess Adelaide of Saxe-Meiningen.

'Fancy those two dukes rushing off to wed at their age,' expostulated Smithers, as she shook a cashmere shawl vigorously before folding it away.

'There has to be an heir to the throne, Smithers. Since Princess Charlotte's death last year there are no legitimate children from any of the royal dukes. She was the only one,' Julia explained.

Smithers gave Julia a withering look and huffed as she set about inspecting a torn flounce on a ball dress.

'Well, the Duke of Cambridge was married in Hanover recently and he is the youngest duke, so he is sure to have a family. Those other two, well, they are both over fifty, and all those Fitz-Clarences... well, really!'

Julia hid her face so Smithers would not be offended by her smile and continued on with her embroidery.

She remembered Prince William with affection. He had always been so kind to his sisters, and courteous to her on his visits to the Queen's House or Windsor. Indeed, his liaison with Mrs Jordan, the actress, had certainly produced a large family, but now, with no royal heir, apart from the childless Duke of York, the royal brothers had to do their duty, and an added incentive to change their single status was Parliament agreeing to settle their debts, or part of them.

'Do remember, Smithers, that the Duke of Cumberland married only three years ago and if he has children and his elder brothers do not, that is where the next heir will come from,' warned Julia.

Smithers looked suitably shocked at the prospect of the 'wicked' Duke's progeny sitting on the English throne, and with a pursed mouth she applied her needle to the torn flounce with renewed vigour.

Outside, the weather had again turned wet and dreary, which seemed to Julia to reflect her own spirits. She missed her afternoon ride with Gerald but couldn't bring herself to ask Wyatt to accompany her as a groom. It was therefore most pleasing when a note arrived from Philip, asking if he could call upon her the following day.

The weather was as bright as Julia's spirits on the appointed day. She dressed in a becoming gown of pink sprigged muslin, her hair was done to Smithers' exacting standards and threaded with ribbon, and she awaited his arrival with keen anticipation. When he was announced, he bent over her hand, and once again Julia felt the old familiar warm sensation of his presence.

'I see that I find you in good looks and that the Sussex air definitely agrees with you,' Philip smiled, raising one eyebrow in mock seriousness.

'Oh yes, it does. However, I do miss friends from Court if not all the duties it entailed,' she answered him in his own bantering tone.

'Do you believe you could settle permanently to country life?' he asked as he sat down.

'Yes. On the whole it has been an agreeable exchange. However, I would like to come up to town occasionally to see the latest fashions, though to be sure I have nowhere to wear them.'

He laughed appreciatively. 'I'm sure your riding companion would be most impressed. Mr Hamilton wasn't it?'

'Mr Hamilton is one of our neighbours. He has been kind enough to lend me one of his horses. As my great uncle has no riding horses it has allowed me to have some exercise outside.'

'Why, how very civil and neighbourly of Mr Hamilton. I only wish I was in his happy situation and able to be of assistance to you in such a fashion.'

Although this was said in a teasing tone, his eyes were suddenly serious. There was a long pause, their eyes locked together, each waiting for the other to break the silence.

Julia rang the bell for Molly, and enquired of Philip, 'Do you intend to stay on longer with Lady Furnbridge, Philip?'

He shifted his legs beneath his chair as he answered. 'Only for another three days and then I must return to Sharnborough. My Aunt Furnbridge has always had a fondness for my widowed sister-in-law, Selina. I have been endeavouring to obtain my aunt's good services in staying with poor Selina at Sharnborough to give her some company during this difficult time. Thankfully, my aunt has agreed to my request and will accompany me to Sharnborough when I leave.'

Molly arrived with the tea things and while Julia busied herself as hostess, Philip chatted on about his widowed sister-in-law and little nieces, only stopping when Julia gave him his tea. Abruptly he changed the topic, his light-hearted tone gone.

'I would very much like to pay my respects to Mr Farraday, though I understand from your man, Ridges, that he is at present indisposed.'

'Yes, he has had a severe cold and at his age he has required constant nursing. Fortunately, his constitution is strong and he is certainly on the mend.'

'Well, in that case I will write to him and make a time to call upon him in the near future. I most certainly wish to make his acquaintance and hopefully gain his approval.'

Julia felt her heart beat faster as she raised her teacup to her lips. Philip looked directly at her.

'You would not object?'

She shook her head. 'No, no. Of course not.'

He relaxed and turned his captivating smile upon her.

'Good. I am in a fever of impatience to meet him. I trust you will put in a good word on my behalf?'

'How could I not!'

Julia's mind was in ferment. If she interpreted correctly what Philip meant...

The rest of the visit passed off in an air of expectation and when Philip left, he lingered over her hand. He wished her great uncle a speedy recovery and promised to return just as soon as he was able.

## Chapter Eleven

'If you meet King George's men,

dressed in blue and red'

It was the screams that woke her. Sitting up in bed, clutching her bedcovers, Julia strained her ears to listen to further noises that sounded like footsteps, and then muffled voices. The din was coming from within the house. Hurrying out of the bed, Julia lit the taper on her bedside table, flung a shawl over her night-clothes, and with beating heart, went to investigate. When she reached the stairs and looked down into the flickering candlelight below, she saw Mrs Knight, Ridges and Wyatt, all huddled over a prostrate form on the floor.

'What has happened? Is it my great uncle?' She uttered the words as she hastily descended the stairs. Julia knew by the inert form who it was and that he was dead.

'Oh, ma'am,' sobbed Mrs Knight, her nightcap askew and tears coursing down her face. 'He's gone! I tripped over him in the dark, and oh...'

She bowed her head, still on her knees beside the body.

'Go back to your room, Miss.' Shaken and heavily breathing, Ridges addressed Julia. 'You can do nothing now. We'll attend to the master:'

Taking in the scene with bewilderment, Julia noted that both Mrs Knight and Ridges were in nightclothes, while Wyatt, standing to the side, was fully dressed. What was he doing here in the middle of the night? He wasn't a live-in servant. As if reading her thoughts, Wyatt spoke to her roughly.

'Do as Ridges said. Go back to your room.'

'No.' Her anger flared and she met Wyatt's menacing look boldly. Stepping forward, she knelt beside her great uncle's body and saw at once by the grotesque angle of his head that his neck was broken. Automatically, she stroked his outstretched hand and was surprised to find it warm although the sightless eyes told her he was dead. Ridges leaned across and gently closed them.

He spoke quietly to her. 'Do come away, Miss. Wyatt and I will put him back in his bed.'

In a daze, Julia got up. Taking the weeping Mrs Knight by the arm, they headed towards the morning room. Julia was vaguely conscious of the frightened faces of Smithers and Molly at the top of the stairs.

While Ridges and Wyatt carried Great Uncle Thomas back to his room, Julia sat Mrs Knight in the nearest chair. She lifted the brandy decanter from the sideboard and poured a tumbler for the housekeeper, and then splashed some more in a second glass and took a mouthful herself. Julia almost spluttered as the fiery liquid went down her throat. She hastily offered hers to Mrs Knight.

The brandy had the desired effect. The distraught woman stopped weeping and seemed calmer, though still upset.

'Can you tell me what happened, Mrs Knight?'

Shuddering, the housekeeper nodded. 'I wasn't sleeping at all well and was worried about Mr Farraday's cold. I went to see if he needed anything but his room was empty.'

Mrs Knight trembled violently. 'I went downstairs in the dark and... and...'

Here she started weeping piteously. Julia put her arm around her shoulders to try to calm her.

'I fell over him lying there.' Once more the sobbing started. Julia got up and refilled the tumbler and gave it to the crying woman. Just then Ridges entered the room, his face worried and strained.

'I've told the other servants about the accident, Miss, and told them to go back to bed. Was that right?' He seemed anxious for her approval.

'Yes, yes of course. Where is Wyatt?'

Ridges averted her eyes. 'He's gone back to his home, Miss Julia.'

'What was he doing here in the middle of the night?'

'I really couldn't say, Miss.'

Ridges appeared distinctly uncomfortable and there was silence, except for the muffled sobs of Mrs Knight.

It was obvious nothing could be obtained by questioning anyone tonight so with Ridges' assistance Julia returned the housekeeper to her room. Molly kindly offered to stay the night with her.

Feeling exhausted, Julia returned to her own room. To her surprise, she fell into a deep sleep immediately, as if her mind had blocked off the need for answers to the evening's tragic event.

The next few days passed in a hubbub of people and events. Dressed in one of her Court mourning dresses that Smithers resurrected, Julia received the local doctor who had examined her great uncle, along with the local magistrate from Rye, the burly Reverend Talbot accompanied by his wife, several other previously unknown county people who had known her great uncle, and many others from the village of Winchelsea.

The Wentworth family were away in London and there was no word from Gerald so she could only assume that he too was away. It was with considerable dismay that she received a missive from Philip, apologising for the fact that he was unable to call on her and pay his respects to her great uncle. Unfortunately, he had had to return to Sharnborough, together with his aunt, earlier than he had anticipated due to unforeseen circumstances.

That Philip was unaware that her great uncle had died was perfectly clear, but Julia wished desperately that he was still nearby.

Wyatt seemed to have vanished, and when she questioned Ridges, he could give her no satisfactory answers. Fortunately, Jimmy, Molly's young brother, was able to come and look after Athene and tidy the garden.

The funeral was held on a day in which the heavens opened and rain poured down. As Julia sat in the darkened morning room with Mrs Talbot, listening to the toll of the church bells, she reflected on the great uncle she'd hardly known. One visitor who bowed over her hand was Lieutenant Wareham, and after the usual condolences, she was able to seat him comfortably and chat on a more friendly footing than with most of the other callers.

'I must tell you, Lieutenant, that it has been weighing heavily on my conscience that I was left a cask of brandy and a length of exquisite French lace, presumably by the smugglers, in return for the use of Athene and my great uncle's barouche.'

Julia gazed anxiously up at him, twisting the ring on her right hand. To her relief she was pleased to see his normally stern face break into something akin to a smile and the dark blue eyes had a decided twinkle.

'My dear, Miss Farraday. Please don't concern yourself with such a trifle. You had no knowledge of what was going on at the time and they unlawfully took your horse and great uncle's carriage. We also have no way of returning the contraband left with you. In fact, it would be more of an embarrassment to the service to try and rectify the matter. My suggestion, just between ourselves of course,' here his face sobered immediately, 'is to let sleeping dogs lie, if you understand what I mean.'

'Of course, Lieutenant Wareham. Thank you for putting my mind at ease.'

She smiled hesitatingly at him. 'Have you further news about what happened on the run that night?'

'Not really. We have some information that the person who was transported was a criminal evading arrest in France and is wanted by the authorities for fermenting anarchy during the revolution, including murder, regicide and a host of other heinous deeds.'

Julia looked suitably horrified. 'That is dreadful, truly dreadful.'

'Yes, l know,' he responded grimly. 'But money has a way of easing the path of men such as he, hence his escape and his ability to start a new life, probably under an assumed name here in England with his fortune intact.'

'Surely not, sir. Our government would never allow it.'

Lieutenant Wareham shook his head at her.

'Never say never, ma'am. 'Pon my word it happens. As I said before, if you have enough money and know the right people, why...'

His answer hung in the air between them. To break the silence, Julia asked spontaneously, 'Is there any provision made for the widow and children of the officer who was killed?'

'There is a small government pension she will receive.'

His face was drawn. 'You are probably not aware but he is the second officer who has been murdered here in the last six months.'

Her eyes widened in amazement as he continued on.

'Last November, one of my officers on patrol was stabbed to death not far from here when he was investigating a suspected run. We found his body the next morning and I had to inform his elderly parents that their son was dead.

'He left no wife and children but the grief of his mother I will remember to my dying day. So you see, Miss Farraday, the invisible enemy we deal with is totally ruthless when crossed.'

He stood up reluctantly, his face suddenly tired and he extended his hand to her.

'Well, Miss Farraday, I must be on my way. I hope we may meet again in more felicitous circumstances and if you need any assistance in any way, remember that Stephen Wareham is at your service at any time should you need to avail yourself.'

Julia felt suddenly exhausted, but thanked him sincerely and watched him leave. She was grateful for what he had said and knew she had a true friend who could be relied upon at all times.

## Chapter Twelve

'You be careful what you say'

The next day, Julia received a letter marked for her attention from the solicitors, Rundle and Keane. They expressed their regrets at her great uncle's demise and asked if she could advise them when it would be convenient for Mr Rundle to wait upon her, regarding Mr Farraday's last will and testimony.

Julia replied immediately. At the same time she composed a letter to Philip at Sharnborough, explaining what had happened and her now altered position. While she was busily engaged, Molly announced a visitor, none other than Gerald. Before Molly had departed he was in the room, filling it with his presence, almost breathless with haste, hair dishevelled, cravat askew as he clutched her hand.

Those brown eyes, so full of emotion, locked with her own. She trembled and sat riveted to her seat as, still holding her hand, he knelt beside her.

'I have only just heard of what's happened here. I came straight away. You poor girl. Your great uncle's death, in such a manner. It must have been a terrible shock to you.'

He was still breathing heavily, his eyes blazing.

'If only I had known sooner! Is there anything I can do? Why did you not send for me?' He gripped her hand tighter.

'But you were away. You had business in London.'

He buried his head in her lap, and without realising what she was doing, Julia began stroking his hair with her free hand. Such thick dark beautiful hair. She was jolted from her reverie by the passion in his sudden upturned face.

'If you had sent word to me I would have come at once. Surely you realise that?'

'I am sorry. I didn't think. I was dreadfully shaken.'

'Oh, my poor Julia!'

He was on his feet in an instant, sweeping her into his arms in an embrace, his face so close that she was overcome in the intensity of his emotion. His lips bore down on hers. The passion of his kisses overwhelmed her and Julia felt helpless in his arms, not wanting the moment to end.

'My dearest, dearest one.' His mouth against her ear, he murmured endearments while she felt the roughness of his skin against her cheek and drank in the masculine smell of him. How long she passively stayed in his arms, allowing him to make love to her, she hardly knew. Never had she felt so secure, so wanted. Somehow, Julia struggled free.

'Gerald, stop. No. No. Please, please stop. I must think.'

'My darling, what is there to think of? You are mine and mine alone.'

'Oh Gerald! Do you mean..' She broke off in confusion at the tap at the door. Molly brought in the tea things, her inquisitive eyes leaping from one to the other, a bright spot of colour in both cheeks.

'Thank you Molly, that will be all.'

Julia was never more aware of her own flushed face, hair in disarray, dress crushed, unsteady voice and lack of composure. 'You will take tea?'

As the door closed, he strode back to her and took her hands.

'It's not tea I want, it's you!'

'Oh Gerald, you know, you must know, how very fond of you I have become.' Julia hung her head to avoid his flaming eyes which seemed to sear her with their intensity.

'And I with you. Look at me, Julia.' His hand lifted her chin and she was once again engulfed in his gaze.

'Nobody can come between us. Nobody! And now, what has occurred here, there is no impediment to stop us, feeling as we do for each other.'

'Are you proposing to me, Gerald?' Even as she uttered the words, Julia wished she hadn't.

There was a long silence, while they looked directly at each other, one breathing heavily.

'Of course.'

It was quietly said and while it should have made her heart sing, something suddenly went out of her, and Julia felt drained and terribly tired. With a heavy heart she poured the tea, spilling some in her agitation. Nothing was said for a while and it was Julia who broke the silence.

'I have received information from Mr Rundle, my great uncle's solicitor, that he wishes to call to inform me of the contents of the will.'

As she passed him his teacup, she caught again the heat in his eyes. He slammed the teacup down on the table, causing it to jump violently.

'Do you think I only came to you because of your great uncle's will?'

Gerald leapt from his seat, rocking the table as he did so, slopping even more of the tea.

'Oh, no, no, Gerald. Please sit down and calm yourself. Of course I never thought that! I would never...'

'You think I only came today because you are now a wealthy heiress, isn't that so, Julia? Tell me, isn't that so?'

He towered over her, his face contorted with rage.

'No, Gerald, no!' She shrank back in her seat, frightened by the sudden change in him, desperately trying to stay calm herself. 'I would never think such a thing about you. I know you are too much of a gentleman, have too much honour to ever...'

'No, you don't! You think I'm after your fortune! Well, let me assure you, I'm not. Perhaps your noble earl will appreciate your improved position. I certainly don't give a fig for it. Good day to you!'

With that he stormed out of the room leaving Julia shaken and in tears.

The next few days were difficult ones for Julia. Apart from the household treating her in a most deferential fashion and dealing with curious acquaintances of her great uncle who called as if to inspect her person, time hung heavily after Gerald's sudden, violent departure.

Subconsciously she knew she had deliberately been putting off clearing out her great uncle's bedroom and library as it seemed such an intrusion into his privacy, and Julia still felt his presence in the house.

Normally she would have asked Smithers to assist her in the task, but she felt that some diplomacy was needed here, and instead, requested Mrs Knight's assistance.

Turning her mother's ring on her finger she reluctantly entered the room, Mrs Knight hard on her heels.

'Perhaps ma'am, you would prefer me to sort out the master's clothes while you go through his desk?' Mrs Knight gently enquired.

'Yes, yes. That is a very good plan.'

Julia was relieved at having the decision taken from her. They worked away steadily through the afternoon and Julia was pleasantly surprised at how neat and methodical Great Uncle Thomas had been in the handling of his accounts and correspondence. Everything was of a relatively recent date. It seemed anything over two months old had been disposed of.

Certainly there was nothing of an incriminating nature or of family history, so at the end of the proceedings Julia could only feel somewhat frustrated and vaguely disappointed. At four o'clock, Julia felt it was time to stop and after washing and tidying herself, she joined Mrs Knight in the housekeeper's room where Molly had thoughtfully provided afternoon tea.

As they drank their tea, Mrs Knight inquired anxiously, 'Miss Farraday, do you think you will be making any changes to the household?'

Julia looked over the rim of her cup, poised in mid air to her lips and carefully replaced it in its saucer.

Looking straight into the older woman's eyes, Julia answered firmly, 'Most certainly not, if I can help it. The household runs very smoothly, thanks to your diligence and efficiency.'

Mrs Knight flushed with gratification at the compliment.

'It's just that with the master's death,' the lady choked on a sob, but continued. 'Apart from cook, everyone else would find it difficult to get another position here in Winchelsea.'

'I do understand that, Mrs Knight,' soothed Julia. 'The only person who will not be employed is Wyatt if he ever returns. Despite his service to Mr Farraday, to me he has been quite objectionable.'

The relief on Mrs Knight's face was apparent.

'Oh Wyatt! He has always been a difficult boorish man. No one here likes him, only Mr Farraday would...but that is not my place to say.'

'Never mind,' answered Julia cheerfully and she leaned across to pat Mrs Knight's hand. 'That means he will be no loss to any one. In fact, I doubt he will ever show his face here again.'

'After your life in London and at Court, are you quite happy to stay here, buried in the country?' asked Mrs Knight timidly.

The smiling face of Gerald Hamilton appeared before her as Julia answered happily, 'My dear Mrs Knight, I am more than happy living here.'

The older lady smiled contentedly at this and sipped her tea.

Casually, Julia asked, 'Do you know if Mr Hamilton has any other family living in Sussex?'

'Not as I am aware, though Mr Ridges' family was in service there. Mr Ridges grew up on the Hamilton estate and knew Mr Gerald as a boy.'

This was news indeed!

'Mrs Knight, there is something I have never known. How long have you been the housekeeper here?'

'Just over twenty-two years, ma'am.' The pride in her reply was unmistakable.

'My, that is a long time,' mused Julia.

'Oh, yes indeed! Before my arrival, Mr Farraday had many changes in the servants' quarters. I believe there were many problems. He could be quite difficult at times.'

This was added nervously, as if it might be overheard by the late gentleman himself.

'Quite so,' agreed Julia tolerantly.

'Mr Farraday bought this property on his first return home from India over forty years ago. The house was twice the size in those days but a big fire destroyed two large wings not long before he purchased it, and as a bachelor it was quite large enough for Mr Farraday as it is.'

Mrs Knight took another sip of tea and continued.

'The previous owners were great hunting people and bred a lot of horses as well, which is why the stables are so large. Mr Farraday used to ride of course in his younger days and kept some carriage horses, but he was never a member of the hunting set.'

Finishing her tea, Julia rose to leave. 'We will continue clearing out the room tomorrow. I must deal with the correspondence. There are many letters to reply to; to those who have expressed their sorrow at Great Uncle Thomas's passing and there are the household accounts to be attended to,' and with that Julia left the room, leaving behind a much-reassured housekeeper.

The next day Julia called Ridges into the morning room on an inconsequential matter, using it as an excuse to turn the conversation to Gerald Hamilton.

'I believe that your family worked on the Hamilton estate, Ridges, and you knew Mr Gerald as a boy?'

'Indeed yes, Miss Julia,' Ridges smiled fondly. 'What a tearaway he was, Miss,' and he sighed heavily.

'I understand he has no family living now?'

'Oh no, ma'am. His mother, oh she was a beauty. Mr Frederick Hamilton met her in Dublin. She was the eldest daughter of a poor Irish Lord, wild and wilful and...' His eyes had a faraway look that Julia had never seen before.

'Please, Ridges, don't stop. I really want to know all about Mr Hamilton's family.'

He smiled ruefully. 'All I can tell you is that she had all the charm and devilment that Mr Gerald has and drove men beside themselves to please her.'

He seemed to be looking past her to a distant place.

Impatiently, Julia plunged on. 'Surely though, she was happy with Mr Frederick Hamilton?'

'Happy!' Ridges snorted. 'Ma'am, she could never be happy and made those around her a misery, trying to please her and keep her entertained. Mr Frederick was a fine looking, quiet, refined gentleman. When he went to Ireland on business, nobody would ever have believed that he would bring back a bride so very different in every way from himself. Oh, they were happy at first, and then Master Gerald was born, but afterwards she was restless, discontented, and shocked the whole county by her behaviour.'

He paused and then said sadly, 'I cannot repeat all that happened, but when Master Gerald was a lad of six, his mother died in childbirth and the child she was expecting died with her. Mr Frederick was beside himself with grief, locked himself in his room, would see no one.'

After what seemed an interminable time, with Julia perched on the end of her chair, her mind agog with anticipation he continued.

'He began to drink heavily, which was so unlike him. He couldn't bear to see his son because of the resemblance to his mother. It was a sad time.'

There was another heavy sigh and Julia was about to question him further when he looked at her and said, 'Twelve years later, when Master Gerald was almost eighteen, he was found one morning dead. Broken his neck, falling from his horse on the way back from Rye. A bad tragic business, especially for the boy.'

Almost afraid to interrupt his reverie, Julia asked shyly, 'And Mr Gerald?'

'Oh, there he was, wilder than wild. Nobody to control him, no one to answer to, though Mr Farraday tried because of his friendship with the family,' Ridges added hastily.

'I see,' murmured Julia.

Now he'd started, it was as if Ridges was unable to stop. 'Master Gerald was the favourite around here, of that there was no doubt. He had his parents' looks with all the charm and sweetness of youth when he wanted to use it. There wasn't a girl or woman, young or old, he couldn't wheedle into anything he wanted and all the men admired him for his courage and devil-may-care attitude.'

Warming to his subject the old retainer continued on with enthusiasm.

'Why, he had all the young sprigs dancing to his tune, off for a caper at his whim. The larks they got up to! Generous to a fault, he usually paid, especially if the constable came to call.'

Ridges shook his head sadly at the memory of it all.

'Many of those same young men either enlisted in the army or navy to fight the Corsican and were killed, although some are now sober married men with families of their own. Of course, Master Gerald did get betrothed when he came back from the East. We all hoped that would settle him down but...'

'To be married?' The words came from Julia involuntarily.

Ridges smiled at the recollection. 'God bless me, yes. She was lovely, from a good family, no shortage of guineas there, if you'll pardon me for saying so, ma'am, but no...' He sighed again heavily. 'Master Gerald ended it and off he went again without a care in the world, while the scandal it caused in London was terrible.'

He stopped and looked at her sadly.

'I'm sorry, Miss Julia, I have rambled on. Please take no notice.'

'Nonsense, Ridges, you have been most informative and I thank you for your frankness.'

Somewhat abashed, he smiled warily at her and left the room while Julia remained pondering on his words. He had given her much to think about.

Four days later, Mr Rundle promptly arrived, apologising profusely for having been indisposed and unable to attend Mr Farraday's funeral and wait on her earlier. Apart from some small bequests to some of the servants such as Mrs Knight and Ridges, and a surprisingly generous sum of eight hundred pounds to Wyatt, the rest of his estate was left to her.

The sum was nowhere near the exaggerated amount that Gerald had mentioned to her but it was considerable, and Julia now had the peace of mind in knowing she could live in comfort and some style if she wished for the rest of her days.

It was with mixed feelings that she received a note from Gerald apologising for his behaviour on his visit to her and asking if they could resume their riding together the following day. Never had Julia felt so torn. Pacing the length of the morning room, clasping Gerald's missive in her hand, she found herself talking aloud.

'I really shouldn't even consider seeing him after his rudeness, for no reason, the other day. Why, there is no way that Philip or any other gentleman of my acquaintance would ever behave in such a way. The effrontery of the man, the arrogance.'

Yet try as she would, all she could think of was that dark head buried in her lap, the wild passion like a coiled spring and the fervour of his kisses. Sitting down suddenly in the nearest chair, Julia knew she would agree to go riding with him and would allow herself to be charmed all over again, and she would accept any reasonable explanation he had to make.

Why, oh why, was she so weak and helpless where he was concerned? Rising again to pace the room, she damned herself for being a fool, but went to the desk, wrote a brief note agreeing to his proposal, rang for Molly and instructed her to get Jimmy to deliver it to Mr Hamilton.

Having made the decision, for some reason she felt much better and surprisingly hungry, so that she was able to enjoy a hearty meal before ringing for Ridges to ask the whereabouts of Wyatt.

'Hmmm,' Ridges frowned, and absentmindedly pulled his fingers. 'I believe he is back at his cottage, Miss, but,' he added hastily, 'that's only gossip. I really don't know for sure.'

'Well, Ridges, I would like to see him. Could you ask him if he will call on me?' Julia could read the surprise on Ridges' face but he nodded his agreement and left her. She didn't want to tell him that she still had unanswered questions regarding her great uncle's death and particularly why Wyatt was in the house that night.

With a sigh, Julia closed the drawer of her bureau and forced herself to shut out the thoughts of an impending interview with Wyatt. A walk in the fresh air to Wentworth Hall to inquire about Caroline's parrot was just what she needed to get out of the house.

'Oh, Miss Julia, does it have to be now?' moaned Smithers, as she laid down the ivory fan she was busy cleaning.

'Yes it does. You can do that later. A brisk walk will do us good. We have both been closeted in the house for the last few days and the exercise will be beneficial to our health,' Julia added rather righteously.

Smithers muttered under her breath that her corns could do with a rest rather than a walk in the wilderness, but knowing Julia wouldn't be deterred she went to get her cap and cape. It was a pleasant walk and they met no one on their way.

Outside Wentworth Hall on the carriage sweep was a stable boy leading a horse around that Julia recognised only too well. Without doubt it was Gerald Hamilton's black gelding. Whatever could Gerald be doing here? For a moment Julia contemplated turning around and returning down the drive, but instead she resolutely pulled on the door knocker.

A rather preoccupied footman opened the door and at Julia's request, led both women through the vestibule and down the hall to the housekeeper's room. A male voice she recognised only too well came from Sir Henry's library, and letting Smithers precede her while following the footman, Julia paused and then crossed the hallway to where the door was ajar.

'There will have to be a lot of work done...'

'Of course, Mr Hamilton, there is no argument about that.'

Sir Henry's voice! But he was supposed to be with the family in London. What could he be doing back here? Through the crack in the door she could see Sir Henry facing across the room and the broad back of Gerald in his buff coat in front of her. A third voice spoke, but quietly, and the words were too indistinct for her to catch. It sounded like a man but he was out of the narrow range of vision she had.

Looking up, she saw the footman and Smithers had stopped and were looking at her, surprise etched on their faces, waiting for her to join them. With a start she hurried forward, aware of her heightened colour, and questions racing through her mind.

'Oh Miss Farraday, so good of you to call.' Mrs Carew was all politeness, but obviously agitated as she wiped her hands on her apron.

'Why, I do hope we have not inconvenienced you,' smiled Julia, as she sat down carefully.

'My goodness me, no.' The housekeeper leaned forward anxiously.

'It is just that Sir Henry arrived unexpectedly last night as he has some business to attend to. Naturally it was a surprise to us but all was in order as it should be,' she added proudly, 'and he praised cook for a capital meal that she set before him.'

'Did only Sir Henry return home, Mrs Carew?'

'Yes, just the master, in a great state he was as it was very late. But so pleased to be here.'

She sat back in her chair and beamed appreciatively at her guests. Behind her in his cage, Lockie rocked on his perch and squawked noisily.

'Oh my, he is a great character,' said Mrs Carew fondly. 'So very noisy and does make such a mess scattering his seed and grit everywhere.'

'Indeed he is,' answered Julia, casting the bird a quelling look.

'Caroline will be pleased to hear he is doing well without her. Perhaps Sir Henry will pass on your good report to her?' Julia asked archly.

'Oh no, no,' said a shocked Mrs Carew. 'I would never dream of bothering Sir Henry with such a trifle. If you could let Miss Caroline know, I would be ever so grateful, Miss Farraday.'

Julia inclined her head. 'Of course I shall. Please do not worry about that. I happened to hear Sir Henry in his library as I came down the hall to see you and it gave me a shock as I was not expecting him to be back here. He appeared to have Mr Hamilton visiting him, and,' she added casually, 'another gentleman?'

Mrs Carew looked even more flustered. 'I really couldn't say, Miss Farraday. I know Mr Hamilton was expected but who else, I do not know.'

Julia could feel Smithers' inquiring eyes fixed upon her, and decided not to pursue the subject further. She accepted Mrs Carew's offer of tea and made inconsequential chit chat while all her being strained itself to the three men gathered in the library.

Who was the third man? Why had Sir Henry returned so suddenly from London? What was Gerald Hamilton, whom she was not on speaking terms with, doing here? At last it was time to go and as she walked along the hall there was silence from the library as if it was deserted. Outside, there was no sign of Gerald's horse so it was obvious he had gone.

Walking home in the late afternoon sun, Julia's mind kept mulling over the events of the day and no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, she could come up with no satisfactory answer as to why Sir Henry and Gerald Hamilton should be involved together in a meeting of an urgent nature. And who was the third man hidden from her view behind the door to whom they appeared to defer?

Julia shook her head in frustration. Of course she was being silly. It really was none of her business what these men were meeting for. The thought of her proposed ride tomorrow with Gerald made her pause to reflect. She hadn't completely forgiven him for his past rudeness, and perhaps with some careful questioning she would find the answer to this particular puzzle.

## Chapter Thirteen

'And mindful what is said'

It was an anxious Julia who awaited Gerald's arrival the next day for their afternoon ride. Somewhat to her chagrin, he arrived full of high spirits as if nothing of consequence had occurred between them, and in a short time they were galloping together over the familiar countryside.

When they slowed to a walk, Julia turned towards him. 'I visited Wentworth Hall yesterday and I saw your horse there.'

Gerald looked suitably startled. 'What on earth were you visiting the Wentworth's for? The family are up in London!'

Julia found herself considerably nettled. How dare he start questioning her! She leaned down the side of Athene as if to remove some grass from her stirrup and she took a moment to answer.

'Caroline asked me to visit Mrs Carew, the housekeeper, who is looking after her parrot, Lockinvar, and make sure he is not pining in her absence.'

He burst out laughing and Julia threw him a withering look.

'It is not that amusing. Parrots do pine and Caroline is much attached to him. Mrs Carew is fond of the bird and he seems quite happy. May I ask what you were doing there with the family all away in London?'

Gerald fiddled with his whip before answering. 'I had some business with Sir Henry and he returned home so it could be completed.'

'Goodness! It must have been important for him to return so soon as they have only recently left.'

He sent her a sharp look and then suddenly looked sulky.

'Sir Henry has wanted to lease some of my land for some time now and finally we agreed on a price. It was his decision to rush back to complete the legalities. That's why I was there yesterday.'

Thoughts raced through Julia's head. It certainly seemed logical, and yet... He had not mentioned any third party and there was no carriage at the house or any other horse being exercised. Perhaps Sir Henry had brought the other gentleman down from London with him, but Mrs Carew had said that Sir Henry arrived alone.

Julia shot him a glance and could see he was out of humour and decided not to renew the subject. For a moment she thought of asking him about his experiences in India, but she remembered his reluctance to talk of his time there and instead mentioned the forthcoming marriage of the Royal dukes.

'Bah, who really cares about those old fools.'

She was surprised by the vehemence in his voice. As if aware of her disapproval, he smiled and added, 'At least they are not as bad as those useless Bourbons.'

Julia looked shocked. 'Would you have Bonaparte in their place?'

The look he gave her was intense.

'Yes, I would. The Emperor is a brilliant general and has done amazing things for the people of France. Why the Code Napoleon alone...'

He checked himself and gave her a rueful smile. 'You will think this is traitor's talk but apart from his enmity with England, which was fostered more by political intrigue, he did many great things and it would have been far better if the throne had been saved with a Regency for the King of Rome until he was of age to rule, than let those corrupt Bourbons back.'

'The King of Rome is only a child! Why, he is back in Austria with his mother, the Archduchess Marie-Louise.'

'Yes, while the cowardly Austrian Emperor keeps him a closely guarded prisoner instead of letting his nephew have his rightful inheritance to the throne of France.'

The ferocity in his voice astounded her.

'As for his mother, that useless cow, oh pardon, Julia, but truly! She showed no loyalty to the Emperor, and has had an ongoing affair with one of her brother's sycophants, Count Neipperg.'

Julia was amazed at his knowledge, despite the fact that most of the scandal sheets of the day carried such gossip.

As if reading her thoughts, he nodded his head and added. 'Yes, I know a lot of it is gossip but it also happens to be true. There is a strong Bonapartist party in place and I shouldn't be at all surprised to see that gouty old fool Louis XVIII overthrown.'

Julia checked Athene as she stumbled on a rabbit hole. She looked across at Gerald in wonder. So, he was a Bonapartist sympathiser! How could he be so stupid! And who would have thought Gerald Hamilton would be so intense about French politics?

He was certainly an ongoing revelation. However, she could not help but feel uneasy, for despite the peace with France since Waterloo, the thought of a Bonaparte on the throne of France was an anathema to her, and, she suspected, to most of the populace. Certainly the Bourbons left much to be desired in their past history, but the upstart Corsican had plunged all of Europe into war on a scale never seen before and the world was weary of it. No, the thought of that occurring again was too horrific to comprehend and she couldn't understand why he was so blind not to see it.

'Enough of this, let's gallop,' he cried, and off they went for half a mile before he slowed and reined alongside her. He kept up a light banter and acted so free of any formality or discord between them, that Julia's reserve thawed and, despite herself, she joined in his good humour and found herself enjoying the outing exceedingly.

On their return to the stables, he proposed that they ride together again on the following day. She felt she should refuse just to let him see that she hadn't totally forgiven him for his previous rudeness. No verbal apology had been forthcoming.

Instead, she found herself weakly agreeing. So it was with mixed feelings she left Athene with Jimmy and made her way back to the house to find Ridges hovering by the door.

'Miss Farraday, I have spoken to Wyatt and he has agreed to meet with you. He will come tomorrow morning at ten o'clock. Is that suitable for you?'

Julia felt he looked worried and nervous, as if unsure that it would be wise for them both to meet.

'Of course, Ridges. Thank you for finding him and arranging a time for me to see him.'

She smiled warmly, although inwardly she dreaded the encounter. Despite what she had said, Wyatt frightened her, but she was determined his employment would finish and somehow she had to know what his connection was with her great uncle. Why had he been left such a legacy? Why had he been in the house at that hour on that fateful night? These were the questions that kept gnawing at her and until she had some satisfactory answers to the riddle, Julia knew she would have no peace.

After an unsettled night, Julia awoke with a headache and a feeling of dread at the prospect of her interview with Wyatt. As the clock in the morning room struck the hour of ten, Ridges ushered Wyatt into the room. He seemed to fill the room with his malevolence and it took all her composure to rise from her chair rather than shrink down into it.

'Thank you for coming to see me, Wyatt.'

She was pleased that her voice was steady and she forced her eyes to meet his.

'What do you want from me?' His voice was scornful, and there was the usual unpleasant sneer on his face.

She ignored his remark and spoke calmly.

'I know you were a loyal retainer of my great uncle, Wyatt, and that he obviously thought highly of you by the bequest he made to you in his will.'

She took a deep breath and continued on. 'I must confess I don't completely understand the association you had with my great uncle.'

'Nor you should. You are a newcomer here. You know nothing of this village or this house.' He leaned forward, glaring at her, spittle at the corner of his mouth.

'You know nothing of Mr Farraday, nothing!'

He was shouting now, looming over her, breathing heavily.

'Of course, you are right,' she added hastily. 'That's why I have invited you here today. Can you please tell me, of my great uncle, the things I don't know.'

He looked at her in amazement and then gave an unpleasant laugh.

'Do you think I'm going to tell you about Mr Farraday's doings? If you value your safety, the less a chit of a girl like you knows, the better. Do you understand?'

Julia felt her colour rise at his rudeness.

'Can you please tell me what you were doing in the house on the night of my great uncle's death?'

Wyatt stepped forward menacingly and Julia instinctively shrank back. 'What business I had with your great uncle that night was between the two of us and is naught to do with you. However, if you think I caused Mr Farraday any injury that night, you are wrong. I have harmed more than a few in my time but what happened to him was an accident.'

'How do you know it was an accident?'

'Because no one in this house would harm the master, and he was found dead at the bottom of the stairs with his neck broke where he'd fallen, so if that's not an accident, tell me what is?'

There was silence between them, broken only by the ticking of the clock and his heavy breathing. Julia felt defeated. There was obviously no point in continuing the conversation as he was so aggressive and determined to thwart her in every way.

Despite this, she felt he was telling the truth about her great uncle's death and that he had no part in it.

'If you want to know more about your great uncle you should ask your friend, Mr Hamilton.'

This was said with a sardonic look and Julia felt her heart skip a beat.

'I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Wyatt. However, I'll remember your words and will indeed speak to Mr Hamilton. Do you intend to stay on in the village now that your circumstances have changed?'

Again he gave the same sly smile. 'You'd like to be rid of me, wouldn't you, Miss? Well, you'll know soon enough, but until then, my plans are my own. Still, you won't have me around here anymore and that should make you happy.'

She ignored this remark despite the immediate relief she felt, and instead said, 'Thank you for coming today and I wish you every joy for the future.'

He gave her a look of pure hatred, turned and walked out of the room, leaving Julia trembling and no wiser about the events that had occurred in her great uncle's time than before. Yet why had Wyatt spoken of Gerald Hamilton as if he was privy to secrets of the past? Well, she would certainly speak to Gerald and that would be a great deal pleasanter than having to deal with Wyatt.

Sinking into the nearest chair, Julia prayed fervently that she would never have to see the hateful Wyatt again.

## Chapter Fourteen

'If they call you 'pretty maid'

and chuck you 'neath the chin'

Molly brought Gerald to the morning room where Julia, dressed for their ride, was waiting for him. After the usual pleasantries she asked him to be seated. An inquiring look came over his face but he sat, or rather sprawled, in the chair across from her, while she explained her conversation with Wyatt on the previous day. He raised an eyebrow when she said that perhaps he could unravel the connection of her great uncle's business activities and his association with Wyatt.

'Hmm, so that rogue wants to embroil me in all of this does he?'

Julia clenched her hands together and almost pleadingly begged of him. 'If you know what Great Uncle Thomas was involved in, with or without Wyatt, please, please tell me.'

He absent-mindedly scratched the side of his head.

'I really don't know everything. Mr Farraday was a very reticent man regarding his affairs, and it's dangerous to talk.'

He lowered his voice and looked towards the door.

'There are ears everywhere.' He stood up. 'I think perhaps it would be better if we went for our ride.'

Walking over to her, he whispered, 'We can continue our conversation outside.'

She nodded her agreement, inwardly thinking herself a fool for not having thought of it herself and led the way to the stables. Her mind was confused as she tried to formulate the questions she so longed to have answered.

It was while they were walking the horses together and Gerald was chatting in an inconsequential way about the Wentworth family that Julia brought herself to interrupt him, somewhat abruptly, using Wyatt's words to her.

'According to Wyatt you knew my great uncle better than I ever realised. Please, Gerald, tell me whatever it is you know and I promise my lips will never reveal to another living soul what you tell me.'

Impulsively, she leant across and put her gloved hand over his. His eyes fixed on hers for what seemed an eternity, and then he sighed and in a low voice began to speak.

'Do you know why Mr Farraday never married?'

The question took her by surprise for Athene, at that moment, reared her head and sidestepped a little as a cluster of butterflies hovered about her head, causing Julia to remove her hand from Gerald's to settle the mare.

'No, not really. There was some talk. Mrs Knight alluded to it. She thought he had been disappointed in love as a young man, and after that, took something of a dislike to women.'

Gerald gave a harsh laugh and turned a burning gaze upon her.

'Well, he wasn't that young when he fell in love and do you have any idea who the lady was that he became so enamoured of?'

Julia remembered with a sinking heart, how, on the day of her arrival in Winchelsea, her great uncle had commented on her lack of beauty compared to her mother.

She remembered from her childhood the whispers of the servants and her father's features clouding over at the mention of his uncle's name. It all came back to her with a rush.

'It was my mother, whom he met in Dublin, that he fell in love with and so desperately wanted to marry, but she refused him completely.' Gerald's voice had a triumphant ring. Julia could only sit in stunned silence, her mind trying to come to terms with the words she was hearing.

'Your mother? Why, but, I thought....'

'Oh yes. He never loved anyone after her, this I believe. However, many years before that he had seduced one of the village girls who bore him a son.'

Again he scrutinised her with intensity, 'Do you have any idea who that might be?'

Realisation hit her like a blow. 'Wyatt!' she gasped.

He nodded his head. 'Quite so.'

For several minutes there was silence as the horses ambled along, Julia's mind assembling all she had just learned. and like a jigsaw puzzle the pieces began to fit. The relationship between the two men, the inheritance left to Wyatt, the easy access to the house; it suddenly made sense, yet...

As if reading her mind, Gerald turned towards her again.

'She was the local beauty of course, a headstrong madcap from a totally disreputable family of poachers, smugglers and worse. Wyatt looked nothing like your great uncle except for his size, but he was accepted by him as his base-born son and he did his best by him. Jeb Wyatt is still a thoroughly bad lot though, and nothing can change that.'

'What happened to Wyatt's mother?'

'Oh, she was looked after. She married a local man, a fisherman, had a family. Her husband was one of the clever smugglers who did well and she only died about ten years ago.'

'How do you know all this?'

He shrugged. 'Since I came back from India to live here permanently I made it my business to find out.'

He smiled at her conspiratorially. 'It wasn't easy and took time to find the true facts though I'd already heard the gossip in my youth.'

'Are there any secrets I should know about you?'

She had meant to say it in a teasing fashion, but her voice had come out sounding so serious that a shadow fell across his face. He looked at her and abruptly said, 'No. Let us gallop.'

With a quick smack of his whip, his horse leapt forward, leaving a contrite Julia to urge Athene forward in his wake. Just before they reached the house, Gerald slowed his mount and Julia ranged Athene up alongside him.

'Gerald, please wait a moment.'

He brought his horse to a walk and turned towards her.

'Were you and my great uncle involved in business ventures together?'

His face hardened, but he did not look away. 'Several years ago, yes.'

'Did it include smuggling?'

'Regretfully yes, but only in a small way and not for long.'

There was a dryness in her throat, but she forced herself to continue. 'Please explain what you mean.'

He suddenly looked sullen and he flicked his whip against his boot.

'Mr Farraday had a large interest in a certain local vessel and needed an investor to join with him in the purchase of, well, cargo for the ship. I was persuaded to enter into the venture and that's what happened.'

'Contraband?' Her voice came out as a croak.

He shrugged again and looked away. 'Yes, you could call it that, but,' the gaze he swung at her was suddenly white hot, 'everyone along the coast was involved in similar pursuits and we needed the goods instead of those damn embargos.'

'But we were at war with France!'

'We have been at war with France, on and off, for more years than I can remember. Do you think the local people here care as long as they can get what they want and don't have to pay the excise men their exorbitant fees? Anyway, since the Bourbons have been restored and peace declared, smuggling has now virtually ceased.'

'That, I presume, is because the Government has lifted the duty and tariffs on so many prohibited goods?'

Gerald looked directly at her. 'You are quite correct. It has certainly made a difference.'

He gave a wry smile. 'Your great uncle and I did not see eye to eye over a number of issues, and consequently, in spite of what you might have been told by that blackguard Wyatt, our business was of a short duration.'

Julia was aware of the sincerity in his voice, and asked. 'What became of the vessel that you said he had an interest in?'

'The Lady Lydia. She still plies the Channel, however, with a more legitimate cargo these days. Of course,' he added, 'the ship would not be registered in Mr Farraday's name. More probably that of Wyatt or the master at the time. Gossip relates that your great uncle got his money out of the Lydia when peace was declared and had no further involvement in the trade. That was very sensible of him, don't you agree?'

Julia nodded. 'Yes, but what of that night, when the barouche was taken and the excise men were here? What was that all about?'

He sighed deeply. 'I really don't know other than it was possibly some political fugitive, fleeing from the wrath of the Bourbons, seeking sanctuary here.'

'Do you really believe that?'

'Yes, I do. Those Bourbons are trying to round up anyone faithful to the Bonapartist cause and the only sane thing to do is flee until the time is right for an uprising in the future.'

Julia shot him a piercing look. There could be no doubt whatsoever in her mind where his sympathies lay and yet it seemed fantastic. It did seem logical what he was saying and very probably her great uncle had not been involved at all in the escapade. He may have simply been used by the smugglers to assist in their escape by taking Athene and the carriage to flee from the revenue men.

Jimmy was waiting as they entered the stable yard, and as soon as she had dismounted and he had led the mare away, Julia turned to farewell Gerald. Looking up at him, she found he was scrutinising her with such intensity that the colour rose in her cheeks.

'Have you heard from your noble earl?' The voice was abrupt with the hint of a sneer.

'Yes, Philip has written to me.' It was an effort to speak in a level tone.

He raised his eyebrow as if to say, 'And?' but Julia lowered her eyes and turned away.

'There is a change coming in the weather. Tomorrow could be wet. If so, will we resume our ride the day after?' she asked.

'Yes, of course.' She received a charming smile in reply, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, and with a graceful nod of his head he trotted off. Julia could not help but think what a fine figure he looked as she watched his retreating form. Looking up at the house, she was suddenly aware she was being watched as a figure moved away from one of the windows.

## Chapter Fifteen

'Don't you tell where no one is,

nor yet where no one's been'

While she was changing from her riding habit into a morning dress, Julia realised that Smithers was very quiet and her face reflected definite disapproval.

'Is this not suitable, Smithers?' knowing full well the grey chintz and black shawl were eminently suitable. The maid merely sniffed.

'What is troubling you? If there is anything amiss, please tell me.'

Two hectic spots of colour appeared on Smithers' pale cheeks while her face contorted with emotion and she wrung her hands.

'Oh ma'am, it's that, that, Mr Hamilton, Miss Julia. I really don't know.'

The woman looked so utterly miserable, that Julia automatically put her hand on her shoulder.

'Oh, please don't upset yourself. Tell me what it is.'

'It's what Mrs Knight told me. Though others know as well. He... he...that Mr Hamilton, he keeps, has, a lady, if that's what you would call it. Living with him at his house. And it's not the first!'

The last burst out from her and Julia felt suddenly giddy. For a dreadful moment she thought she might faint.

Using all her willpower she forced herself to stay standing. Really, what did she expect! Almost all gentlemen of fashion kept a fair cyprian, a ladybird, call them what you will, for their pleasure. She was clenching her hands so tightly her fingers ached. How could she imagine someone so vital, so handsome as Gerald, would not keep a mistress. But to flaunt a woman such as that in the county for the entire village to gossip about. Well!

Smithers' eyes were bright with unshed tears and like a bursting dam the words came out in a torrent.

'That, that Mr Hamilton! He has this woman there. At his house. Foreign they say. Oh, it's not the first by any means, there is always some female there for his pleasure! Not even kept hidden away. This one, though, deliberately flaunts herself. Bold as brass she rides out with him in his phaeton for everyone to see.

'Entertains male guests there as his hostess, totally shameless, making no attempt to hide her situation. Everyone in the village, in fact the whole county, knows what is going on. Of course, a blind eye is turned because of his wealth and he is received in most houses, but really!'

Almost out of breath Smithers panted on. 'Nobody here wanted to say anything, of course, to you about this, this Mr Hamilton,' she spat out the last word, 'but I wheedled it out of them,' she added triumphantly.

Julia let the words wash over her, and when Smithers finally stopped her flow, Julia calmed her, placated her, and sent her to get a headache powder for indeed her head was thumping.

Alone in her room, Julia gazed into her mirror and looked at the stranger staring back at her. Eyes, all pupils, like dark pools in a white face, framed by piled-up brown hair in a chignon. How ghostlike she appeared. Could she ever compete with a high flyer like Gerald's light of love?

Gritting her teeth, Julia felt a surge of anger. Well, Mister Gerald Hamilton, no wonder you shied away from any suggestion of a future commitment. If you think you can play games with me and trifle with my emotions, I have a surprise for you.

The Morning Post was full of the forthcoming nuptials of the Royal Dukes of Clarence and Kent, which were to take the form of a double wedding at Kew before Queen Charlotte. At the breakfast table, Julia sat mulling over the thought of the two middle-aged men who had both given up long term mistresses to marry two German princesses; one a twenty-five year old spinster from Saxe- Meiningen, the other a thirty-two year old widow with two children, originally from Saxe-Coburg.

Remembering court gossip and her own memories of the two men, Julia wondered how the women would fare. Clarence was kindly enough, though Kent was supposedly a martinet. From all accounts, it was all totally political in the race for an heir to the throne.

Julia arose and put the paper down. Going to the window she looked out at the clouds scudding across the sky.

How was she going to tackle Gerald about the news Smithers had told her? Was she being laughed at by the village for her afternoon rides in his company? Molly entered the room to clear away the breakfast things and Julia suddenly decided what she must do, and do quickly before she lost courage.

'Jimmy rides the pony that's kept as company for Athene, doesn't he, Molly?'

'Why yes, ma'am.' The maid looked puzzled at her question.

'Ask Ridges to tell Jimmy I want both horses saddled and Jimmy is to accompany me for a ride.'

Molly looked startled, but left immediately in search of Ridges while Julia went upstairs to find Smithers and change into her riding habit.

Jimmy was waiting with both horses when she reached the stables, his eyes bright with anticipation. Beside him was Ridges, looking anxious.

'It's all right, Ridges, I'm only going for a ride and Jimmy will be a fine escort.'

Jimmy gave her a cheerful grin. Ridges nodded his head and muttered instructions to Jimmy about being careful and taking care of his mistress. He assisted her to mount and soon they were off down the drive.

At the end of the drive she turned to Jimmy's eager face and asked, 'Do you know where Mr Hamilton lives?'

'Oh yes, Miss,' he answered cheerfully and pointed east. 'It's that way, towards Rye.'

'Very good. I need to visit Mr Hamilton so if you can show me the way I will be most obliged.'

Together they took off at a fast trot. Although Athene wanted her head, Julia restrained her as there was no way Jimmy's fat pony would be able to keep up.

As if he wanted to be her guide as well as escort, Julia was given a running commentary on whose establishments they were passing as they made their way to Gerald's home. Julia could not help but notice the sodden grass and ruined crops in the fields and the sheep wading in pools of water. It had been one of the wettest springs and summers that anyone could remember, haymaking not even started. The hay wagons were lying idle in the yards and the huge shire horses stood dispiritedly in their fields.

Even if there was a dramatic change in the weather it would be too late, and for the poor it was going to be a hard winter as prices would rise dramatically for bread and other basic foods. An hour later, they arrived at a very respectable looking establishment, and after dismounting and leaving Jimmy to walk the horses, Julia, with a pounding heart, knocked on the front door.

An elderly manservant let her in, looking totally astonished when she bade him announce her to Mr Hamilton. The minutes waiting in the hall were nerve-racking. Her mind was a complete blank and she couldn't think how she could explain herself.

'Why, Julia. This is a surprise!'

Suddenly he was there, filling half the hallway with his presence, his shirt dazzling white against the dark panelling, the manservant hovering behind him.

'Come into the library and let me offer you some refreshments. Coffee?'

'Why, yes, thank you.'

The library was a small room, books in cabinets, a writing table in the centre scattered with papers in an untidy jumble, a few chairs and an old dog that slowly got up, tail wagging, to press his nose against her skirt and be patted in return.

'Come back here, Flush, and don't be a nuisance.'

And to her, 'To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?'

A magnificent smile lit up his face but she couldn't read his eyes. Dropping to her knee, patting, and bending over the dog with her eyes fixed firmly on it, Julia tried to keep her voice light.

'I needed to go on an errand with Jimmy, Molly's brother, in this area and as I was passing your estate, I thought, well, when Jimmy told me you live here...'

She looked up, meeting him squarely, 'I do hope you don't mind.'

'No, no, no. Not at all, it's a pleasure.'

The door swung suddenly open and both of them turned. In the frame, poised dramatically, dressed in a foaming blue peignoir, was one of the most exquisite women that Julia had ever seen. She stood there, or rather leaned, looking at them nonchalantly. Creamy white skin, bold blue eyes and a mass of shining auburn hair. The decolletage of her robe exposed a figure that was superb.

'Why, mon cher, I did not know you had company.'

The voice was a caress. Without moving, her eyes appraised Julia from head to toe and never had that lady been more conscious of her old-fashioned creased habit and windblown appearance.

'You may leave us, Lenore. You are not yet dressed.'

His voice was level, but Julia was aware of the fury in the tone. With a slow contemptuous smile, the Frenchwoman slowly turned and then swung back to face them, this time with a smile brimming with malice.

'No, mon petit, I am not yet dressed, but then whose fault is that?' and with a low laugh, she glided off, leaving the door wide open.

Julia stood like a stone, unable to move. With an oath, Gerald strode to close the door.

'I think I should leave.'

'Why? You have only just arrived and I still don't know the reason for this visit.'

His face was pale and he looked furious. They looked at each other, Julia only too aware of the tears that had built up behind her eyes while his bored into hers. The door suddenly opened again and with a sinking heart Julia heard Gerald let out another oath, but this time it was directed at a startled servant with the coffee.

'Put it there.' He waved towards the desk, where the coffee was deposited. 'Now leave us.'

As the door shut, Gerald came straight over to her.

'Once again, I will ask you. Why have you come here?'

And to her dismay, Julia burst into tears. With another muttered oath, he swept her into his arms before she had a chance to compose herself. Struggling weakly in his embrace, Julia knew it was all wrong. She endeavoured, somewhat weakly, to break free. The alluring Frenchwoman could only be his mistress, of that much she was certain.

'No, Gerald.'

Reluctantly, or so it appeared, he released her.

'I came today to ask you to.. to confront you.'

Helplessly, she wrung her hands. The tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks.

'That person....'

Again she clenched her hands together and took a deep breath. 'Obviously the gossip was correct.'

She couldn't finish what she wanted to say and nervously twisted the ring on her finger.

'Julia, I'm no saint.'

He was white faced, but obviously unrepentant.

'I don't pretend to live my life by anybody's standards but my own. If what you have seen here today has offended you so much, then I'm sorry. However, I did not invite you to come and witness something that would be so disagreeable to you.'

Julia felt as if she had been struck.

'Please don't apologise. You are quite right. I had no business to come.'

Her tears stopped, she thrust out her hand to him, and forcing a smile on her lips, said. 'I really must go. Once again, my apologies.'

Turning on her heels, she walked steadily from the room, aware of him behind her, speaking to her, but not registering the contents of his words. Then she was outside.

There was Jimmy and Athene, and as quickly as she could, Julia was into the saddle and cantering away, barely aware of Gerald standing arms akimbo in the drive or of Jimmy's anxious face. Tears of humiliation drenched her face as she headed home.

After slowing Athene to a walk, Julia dried her eyes and forced herself to think objectively about the scene she had witnessed at Gerald's residence. Churning this over in her mind, they turned a corner in the path where it narrowed between the hedgerows. A man appeared almost in front of her.

Wyatt! As if sensing her apprehension, Athene shifted nervously to one side. Julia could see Wyatt had been out shooting. Dead rabbits were tied to a pole on his shoulder and in his other hand he held a large, wide-eyed young hare by the ears. It looked as if it had just been caught and was not yet dead but merely stunned, judging by the way it was still twitching.

She read the venom in his eyes as he looked at her, boldly standing his ground. As she was about to go past him, with a sudden movement a knife appeared in his hand and he sliced the hare open from neck to tail. Blood, entrails and gore spilled forth in a visceral eruption on to the earth below.

Afterwards, Julia could never remember whether it was the hare or herself that screamed. With the smell of blood in her nostrils, Athene reared, and Julia, in a temper she never knew she possessed, slashed her riding crop across Wyatt's leering face, again and again, as she heard herself scream, 'You swine. You filthy horrible swine!'

He dropped the hare on the ground amongst its entrails and Julia caught sight of the animal's lifeless eyes. She slashed at Wyatt repeatedly, around his head and everywhere she could reach in a white hot fury, while he tried to protect himself with his hands. Athene snorted and pranced while Wyatt tried to grab the whip, blood streaming from the lacerations on his face.

Athene leapt forward, out of Wyatt's reach, and he bellowed at Julia, 'You bitch. I'll get you for this! You'll pay for this!'

A string of oaths emitted from his mouth as he ran after her. Exhausted, Julia sank low in the saddle and she galloped for home, her heart pounding like a drum and her body trembling with rage. That scum. That disgusting, horrible, brutal oaf!

With trembling hands she slowed Athene and waited for a white-faced Jimmy to pull up on his pony beside her.

'Lawks, Miss, what have you done?' he gasped, his eyes like saucers.

Julia steeled herself and in a shaky voice answered, 'Jeb Wyatt is an evil, vicious man Jimmy. What he did back there was not only sickening and unnecessarily cruel, but done to frighten and intimidate me. Well, he succeeded, but only partly.' She drew a deep breath.

'But, Jeb Wyatt. Oh, Miss.' His fear was only too apparent.

She steadied Athene and could feel the fury still within her as she gave the boy a tremulous smile.

'I will not be cowed by a bully of the likes of Jeb Wyatt, revolting as he is. Do you understand me?'

Jimmy nodded, wide-eyed with amazement, and together they rode on, Julia suddenly wishing with every fibre of her being that she was a man, able to give Wyatt the thrashing she felt he so thoroughly deserved. While she battled to control her feelings, Julia became aware of another rider bearing down upon them.

'Good afternoon, Miss Farraday. I trust I find you well?'

Lieutenant Wareham's face was solemn as he scrutinised her pale face.

'Oh, yes, thank you Lieutenant. It is just... I have just had a most unpleasant experience.'

Concern was etched immediately on his face.

'Why, whatever can have happened, ma'am?'

Oh, I have just had to witness the humiliation of seeing the mistress of the man I love in all her glory, and realise how impossible any relationship can be with him now. Also, my former servant has treated me in the most despicable fashion possible.

I won't humiliate myself by admitting the former though, thought Julia. Instead, with a voice trembling with fury, she told him of her encounter with Wyatt.

'He is, I am sorry to say, one of the most callous, brutal men it has been my misfortune to meet. I believe him to be bordering on the insane and, begging your pardon, have never understood why your great uncle ever kept him in his employment.'

Remembering Gerald's comments on Wyatt's parentage, Julia kept mute and shrugged her shoulders.

'Do not worry any further, ma'am. I will escort you and your young groom home, though I doubt we will see any sign of the villain.'

When they reached the house, Julia turned to him.

'Would you care for some refreshment, Lieutenant?'

'No thank you, Miss Farraday. That is most kind, but I have an appointment in Rye and must continue on.'

'Lieutenant Wareham, thank you so much for your company. You have restored my confidence. I felt so much safer with your escort home.'

'I assure you, it was my pleasure, ma'am.'

He hesitated for a moment and then said quickly, 'I don't mean to be presumptuous, but my friend, Captain Martin, has asked me to join him on board his ship, the Revenue cutter Glorious, on Saturday for a day's sailing along the coast to sea trial new rigging.

'Mrs Martin and their youngsters are coming, as well as the Reverend and Mrs Talbot. Should you care to join us for the day, you would be most welcome.'

Wyatt's words of warning of fraternising with revenue men flashed through her mind. Julia was aware of the lieutenant looking at her intently, awaiting her reply.

'Why thank you, Lieutenant. I'm sure I would enjoy the outing very much. I have never been on a ship since I sailed from Calcutta with my brother as a small child.'

He looked pleased. 'Should the weather be inclement, naturally we will not go and you will be informed.

'I will send you a message with the time and place of departure, and will arrange for the Talbot's to collect you after I have confirmed with Captain Martin.'

'Is there anything I need to bring?'

'Just yourself ma'am, though I will check with the captain. I would suggest, depending on the day, a warm coat, a shady bonnet and a parasol, for the wind can be cool at sea and the glare from the sun and water intense.'

'I will certainly follow your advice and shall look forward to the day.'

He gave her a tentative smile, a smart salute, and turned his horse in the direction of Rye.

## Chapter Sixteen

'Knocks and footsteps round the house'

For the next twenty-four hours, Julia tortured herself with all the agony of her feelings towards Gerald and the scene she had witnessed at his home, as well as her encounter with Jeb Wyatt. Escorted by Jimmy, she again rode out, determined not to be put off riding because of Wyatt. In her mind she composed a letter to Gerald, breaking off their rides altogether. On her return, she wrote it out and sent Jimmy off to deliver it.

That done, she felt oddly at peace and once again in charge of her emotions. Obviously, Gerald had no real feelings of intent towards her, only a mild flirtation on a superficial level. His basic needs were obviously catered for by the lovely Lenore, and to her intense disgust, Julia felt the pangs of jealousy creeping around her heart. He could not be faithful to anyone, of that she was certain, but would instead flirt, charm or manipulate for his own desire and gratification.

She felt hot and furious just thinking about how foolish she had been to fall under his spell. Comparisons with Philip sprang into her mind, and she wondered at her own weakness in allowing Gerald to play upon her emotions to the exclusion of everything else.

She forced herself to concentrate on Saturday's excursion at sea with Lieutenant Wareham and his party. A note had arrived from Reverend Talbot saying they would collect her at eight o'clock and drive to the appointed meeting place. One of the ship's boats would then take them out to the Revenue cutter which would be anchored off the beach.

Smithers was only too pleased to assist with the preparations for the sail, but had no desire whatsoever to go.

'You'd not get me on one of them ships going to sea. I'll stay on dry land thank you, Miss Julia, and I won't rest until you are back here safe and sound,' she grumbled.

Saturday came, grey and dismal with little wind. The Reverend Talbot and his lady arrived, in their gig driven by an aged retainer, to collect her punctually at eight, and down the hill and along to the beach they drove, Mrs Talbot as loquacious as ever. Out to sea they could see where the Glorious was anchored, and on the beach was the rowboat with a group of seamen waiting for them.

Lieutenant Wareham was there also.

'Ah, you have timed it perfectly, Reverend,' he quipped, as helped the ladies out of the gig.

'Mason will be back here at six o'clock to collect us,' the vicar announced in a sonorous voice. 'I do hope the weather improves as the day progresses,' and he gazed anxiously at the sullen sky.

'I am sure it will,' said Lieutenant Wareham cheerfully. 'Come ladies, we must get you settled in the cutter.'

'Oh, Lieutenant, I do hope it will not be rough. I am so terribly afraid I may be ill. Oh, it is so exciting to have a day at sea!'

Mrs Talbot was visibly flushed and excited as she turned this way and that, her eyes darting everywhere.

'Pray, do stay calm, Mrs Talbot,' uttered the vicar in a firm voice. 'We are in capable hands with Captain Martin and his crew so do not excite yourself.'

Mrs Talbot stilled immediately and in a timid voice said, 'Of course, my love. How foolish of me,' and smiled tremulously at her husband.

Two burly seamen came forward on command from the cox'n, and joining their hands together, made a seat, which Julia sat upon and was lifted up and carried to the boat at the water's edge. Mrs Talbot was handled in the same way, then Mr Talbot and Lieutenant Wareham climbed into the boat. The order was given and the seamen pulled the rowboat into the water before climbing in, and in unison, started rowing out to the Glorious.

A splash of spray from an errant oar hit Julia's shoulder as she sat nestled beside Mrs Talbot. The smell of salt air assailed her nostrils and the sea breeze lifted her wide-brimmed straw chapeau slightly, even though it was tied tightly beneath her chin.

The seamen rowed briskly through the calm sea and in no time at all they were at the side of the ship. Julia felt herself expertly hoisted on to the ship's ladder, which hung down the side, and with a sailor behind her, had little difficulty in climbing up where eager hands assisted her on to the deck.

Captain Martin gave her a jovial welcome and introduced her to his wife, Evelyn, a pleasant looking woman in her late thirties, and their two children, Roger aged fourteen and Sarah, twelve.

Lieutenant Wareham arrived beside her and then with much fluster, Mrs Talbot was deposited on the deck from the arms of a tattooed sailor, skirts awry, her bonnet flattened and arms flailing.

'Oh, my goodness, what an adventure!'

Despite her predicament, she seemed to be enjoying herself hugely.

'Why, Cousin Evelyn, I am so looking forward to our day on the water.'

Mrs Martin moved forward in an attempt to put Mrs Talbot to rights as the vicar, puffing loudly, heaved himself with a sailor's assistance on board.

'Cousin Lavinia, do come and sit down over here.' Mrs Martin took Mrs Talbot by the arm. 'Captain Martin has organised some sea chairs for us so we will not be in the way as the ship sets sail.'

Julia hesitated by the rail before following the other ladies to their allotted place. Looking ashore, she could see the beach and white cliffs all along the coast, with cattle and sheep like tiny specks on the green pasture. Turning to face the open sea, there were fishing boats working, sea birds circling above them, and the sails of other ships plying the channel.

The unfamiliar movement of the ship as it rocked and swayed gently brought back memories of another time and place, back in her childhood. The creaking of the timber and a sudden flapping, caused her to look up into the rigging. This sea trial was to test the new rigging, according to Lieutenant Wareham. The huge expanse of main sail was white, and obviously new when compared to the yellowed salt-stained sail on the mizzen mast.

Reluctantly, Julia sat with the ladies and watched, fascinated, as the whistle blew and the sailors began scurrying to their respective stations. The officers barked orders and the Glorious slowly started to turn into the wind, then surged forward, foam billowing in her wake, the ship abuzz with activity.

Despite the relative calmness of the sea, there was a gentle roll as they moved along. Lieutenant Wareham was engaged in conversation with Captain Martin and several officers on the poop deck; the children running around the deck from side to side pointing out the sights. Julia unfurled her sunshade and, standing up, moved tentatively at first and then with more confidence, over to the rail to look at the land as they sailed along the coast.

Reverend Talbot joined her, wiping his face with a large handkerchief, his large brimmed hat secured tightly on his head.

'You do not suffer from the 'mal de mer,' Miss Farraday?' he enquired.

'No. Not that I am aware of.' Julia smiled fondly, trying to capture the elusive memories of her childhood voyage from India.

'You are most fortunate indeed,' he sighed. 'I regret to say that I am a bad sailor, though I think today the weather should not be too intolerable. Hopefully, I will not have to excuse myself from the company. 'Pon my soul, what is that smell?'

He held his handkerchief to his nose and looked around in alarm as from the galley area came an aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with another, even stronger odour of burning toast.

'Shall we move to the other side of the ship,' he asked anxiously, offering her his arm.

Julia felt quite sure she could manage on her own, but did not like to appear rude so accepted, and in a slow stately manner they made their way to the other side. A fishing boat was close by, the men on board hauling in a net of silvery fish that gleamed with movement despite the dullness of the day.

'It always surprises me that just across that narrow stretch of water lies our natural enemy, France,' he announced ponderously.

'We are now at peace,' Julia said firmly. 'Please God, long may it last. Everyone is so tired of war and the terrible loss of life.'

'Very true, Miss Farraday,' he nodded sagely. 'Regretfully, man's inhumanity towards man has existed since time began and sadly I cannot see it changing.'

Julia checked herself before answering in a manner that could cause a disagreement. It was a pleasant day out and she had no wish to enter into arguments.

'Does Mrs Talbot suffer from sea sickness?' she asked, changing the subject rapidly.

'Goodness me, no. Lavinia is fortunately a good sailor, though whenever we are at sea she always expects to be ill. I do know her cousin, Mrs Martin, has succumbed to the motion of the sea when it has become rough.'

'Has Captain Martin been in command of the Revenue's ship for long?' she asked.

'He received his commission back in thirteen and has been ship's captain since then.'

As the Glorious turned she heeled to one side, and Julia looked up into the rigging where the sailors worked the yards and set the sails, while from the for'ard deck, orders were barked out.

Julia shuddered at the thought of one of them falling but they were as nimble as monkeys, practically dancing along the yardarms, furling and unfurling canvas as they went. The sails swelled out again and the ship gained speed. Lieutenant Wareham and the children joined them at the rail.

'Look sir,' said young Roger to Mr Talbot. 'They are trying out the new sail!'

Sure enough, an extremely large, pristine-white jibsail billowed out from the long bowsprit. It filled with air causing an appreciable increase in speed. The boy whooped with delight and ran off towards the bowsprit, his sister in hot pursuit.

'Ah, the exuberance of youth. Do you not wish you were a boy again, Lieutenant?' smiled the vicar.

'Oh, no,' Lieutenant Wareham replied with a laugh. 'I trust I have enough youthful vigour for my own pursuits.'

'Well, that's as may be. Your profession is sadly, a dangerous one.' Mr Talbot turned his gaze towards the shore. 'So hard to believe that the peaceful scene we see before us changes into a mayhem of evilness and violence in the cover of darkness when the smugglers are at work.'

This was said in an almost pensive tone.

Lieutenant Wareham stiffened. 'You are quite right, Mr Talbot. It is deceptive. However, right will overcome wrong, and though it has taken time, far too much time in fact, I believe we are winning the battle against the smuggling fraternity.'

'I do hope you are right in that, Lieutenant. These evil men that cause so much distress and sorrow to the community must be dealt with and punished severely,' he replied earnestly.

'We will win the fight, Vicar. The service is dedicated to that fact, I promise you. Ah, coffee!'

Captain Martin's steward appeared before them with steaming mugs of coffee, which the vicar waved away, handkerchief to nose, and went after the children. Julia and the Lieutenant sipped the steaming brew in companionable silence. It was hot and aromatic. In fact, Julia could not remember when she had last enjoyed a cup more.

As they headed out to sea, Julia scanned the horizon for further sails and then looked back to the distant shore. For a moment she thought she could see a lone rider on a black horse, high on one of the cliffs, and the thought of Gerald flashed through her mind. This was followed by a vision of him with the lovely Lenore and she flinched at the thought. Julia steadied herself, barely aware of what the Lieutenant was saying to her, her heart and mind following her eyes as the rider vanished from sight.

The rest of the day was spent cruising along in fitful sunshine as the day improved. Luncheon was a lavish affair in the main cabin, of cold cuts, hot pies, tarts, puddings and fruit with a savoury to follow, and biscuits and cheese, all to be washed down with punch, claret, hock and port, with lemonade and ginger beer provided for the youngsters.

Promenading around the deck with the ladies, Mrs Martin was most forthcoming on the eligible males in the district.

'Oh, Mr Hamilton is a sad rake, my dear. No sensible mother could entertain him for her daughter. Now yonder Lieutenant,' she added roguishly, 'is a different kettle of fish entirely.'

'Indeed yes,' ascertained Lavinia Talbot excitedly, her eyes roving everywhere.

'A fine young man. I do believe though there is some talk of an understanding with Martha Blake. Is that not so, Cousin?'

Mrs Talbot nodded her head vigorously.

'Yes. Unfortunately her dear papa passed away only six months ago, and after the mourning period I am sure it will be announced. Here comes the dear Vicar. I do trust he is still feeling well,' she said anxiously.

After noting the quantity of food and beverages that Mr Talbot had partaken of at luncheon, Julia would not have been in the least surprised if he was feeling anything but well. To her amazement, the vicar was quite jovial and in excellent spirits.

'Ladies, should you not be seated in your chairs and resting rather than exercising after our excellent lunch?'

'Nonsense, Vicar,' said Mrs Martin forthrightly. 'Gentle exercise such as this can only be good for us. Give me your arm, Vicar. Lavinia, you take the other one and we shall enjoy a promenade with you.'

Laughing, the three set off around the deck again, and Julia joined Captain Martin and the Lieutenant on the poop deck.

'I trust you are enjoying your day at sea, Miss Farraday?' said the Captain with a smile.

'Oh, yes indeed, thank you, Captain Martin,' said Julia with enthusiasm. 'It has brought back so many memories of my childhood when I returned to England from India and how kind the sailors were to we children.'

'I see Mr Talbot has been regaling you with stories, or was it sermons, Miss Farraday?' he added with a twinkle in his eye.

Julia smiled. 'No, not quite. I believe he has dined well and is now at the mercy of the ladies.'

'Well,' said the Captain, 'Mrs Martin and his wife will keep him entertained, I'm sure. Should you wish to go aloft, Miss Farraday, we have a basket and a seaman would accompany you,' he offered mischievously.

'No, no, I thank you. I have no head for heights,' and she twisted her mother's amethyst ring.

Both men roared with laughter, and Julia joined them in relief.

'You are teasing me, Captain Martin.'

'Not all, ma'am. We do have a basket, but,' he added kindly, 'I do understand your reluctance for the venture. Should you like to go, Wareham?'

'Indeed I would, sir, though I think if I have one of your men with me, I could climb the rigging to the crows nest.'

'Off you go then. Mr Hall,' this to one of the officers,'send Thompson up with the Lieutenant. Here, take my telescope so you get a good view.'

The Lieutenant stuffed the telescope in his breeches and was soon off with Thompson, climbing the rigging up the main mast. Julia wondered at his bravery and could hardly bear to watch, though he climbed successfully and waved down to them all when he reached the nest. After an hour or so, he rejoined them, flushed and proud of his exploit, and full of the sightings on the horizon and the excellence of the captain's telescope.

The rest of the day passed agreeably. In the early evening, they disembarked and returned to Mr Talbot's gig where Mason was patiently waiting. The ride home was quiet as the vicar soon fell asleep and both ladies were pleasantly weary.

On entering the house, Smithers was waiting in high expectation of the day's events.

'Well, you have returned safe and sound, the Lord be thanked!' she exclaimed.

'We did have the vicar with us, Smithers,' said Julia mischievously. 'I'm sure that alone would have protected us from anything untoward.'

'Humph,' snorted the maid. 'You may make fun but I don't trust the sea and have had an uneasy feeling all day. Come upstairs and let me attend to your toilette. My, but your face is flushed. You have quite a pretty colour.'

She prattled on as Julia followed her. 'Mrs Knight has a light supper prepared for you when you are ready.'

'Thank you, Smithers.'

Dutifully, Julia followed her, happy to leave herself to the maid's administrations, and after supper, feeling slightly wind burnt and pleasantly weary, she fell into bed and went straight into a dreamless sleep.

## Chapter Seventeen

'Whistles after dark'

It was with a sense of relief that Julia learned from Smithers that the Wentworth family had returned from London. The following day, Julia received the two Miss Wentworths, and after the usual exclamations of pleasure and delight, the three young women settled down to discuss all the news from London and in the county.

'Thank you so much for keeping an eye on Lockie for me, Julia,' said Caroline. 'He did miss me of course, but Mrs Carew has looked after him incredibly well.'

'I knew that she would,' smiled Julia. 'However, I can well believe he is very pleased to have you back home, as I am too.'

'Mama sends her sincere condolences to you, dear Julia, about poor Mr Farraday,' whispered an anxious Susan.

'But he was very, very old, wasn't he, Julia?' added Caroline.

Julia placated both young ladies, ordered tea, and after assuring them of her well-being, turned the conversation to their stay in London.

'Do tell Julia your news, Susan,' coaxed Caroline.

Susan blushed becomingly and extended her left hand to display a diamond engagement ring.

'Why, Susan, how delightful! Oh I am so happy for you.'

Impetuously, Julia leant across and kissed her cheek.

'Pray tell me. Who is this fortunate man?'

It turned out to be a certain young Toby Kinston, eldest son of a baronet, recently returned from military duties overseas. He had met Susan the previous year, renewed the acquaintance in London and proposed instantly, to be accepted by a love-struck Susan.

'For I had liked him so much from the moment I met him last year, and then he had to go away. When we met again this year, it was just...'

Susan lifted an enraptured face to Julia, which left no doubt about her feelings for the dashing Toby.

'Yes!' said a triumphant Caroline. 'And papa and mama were so pleased for Susan that it could not have been better. They know Toby's family and everyone is delighted. In fact, you will be able to make the acquaintance of Toby very soon as he is arriving on Friday to stay with us for a week.'

'Indeed, it is so,' smiled her sister. 'I am sure you will like him, Julia,' she added shyly.

'Of course I will, my dear,' agreed her host, and with the arrival of afternoon tea the rapturous bride-to-be poured out the merits of her fiancé, the wedding plans, where they proposed to live, and the latest London fashions. The afternoon passed in a happy convivial state until the Wentworth ladies took their leave under the firm assurances that Julia would call upon them the next day.

Lady Wentworth cordially greeted Julia the next day when she called at The Hall, and after tea had been taken and Susan and Caroline were otherwise engaged, her hostess turned to her with a smile and said, 'I had the pleasure of recently making the acquaintance of a friend of yours from Court, dear Julia.'

'Oh, who was that?'

'Viscount Illingham. He heard we were near neighbours of yours and particularly wanted to know if we had heard how you were managing since Mr Farraday's death. As you know, he is still in mourning for his brother and is not out in society. However, he had previously met Sir Henry and took the trouble to call on us while he was in London on business.'

Julia felt a surge of pleasure at Lady Wentworth's remarks.

'I had the distinct impression, Julia, that Lord Illingham's call was really to hear all about you and your life in Winchelsea. He does seem to have a tendresse for you, my dear.'

'Philip has always been a steadfast friend. But now he is the heir to an earldom, I am sure there will be many other suitable young ladies that his family would prefer for him.'

Lady Wentworth patted Julia's hand in a sympathetic way, and with another conspiratorial smile, changed the subject to a much less controversial matter, Toby Kinston's expected visit.

'I would very much like to make up a party to visit my cousin's home at Astonbury to see the Roman ruins. Although presently in town, I know they would have no objection to us seeing the house and gardens. All I need to do is contact their steward who will provide the repast. I had thought next Tuesday would be a suitable day and would be delighted if you could accompany us, Julia.'

This request Julia was only too pleased to accept, and after hoping that the weather would favour them for the visit, asked Lady Wentworth about the house and its history as it was unfamiliar to her.

As she was about to leave, her hostess invited Julia to join the family on Saturday for luncheon to meet Susan's betrothed. Julia accepted with pleasure as she was curious to meet the man who had conquered her young friend's heart.

Saturday once again saw Julia and Smithers make their way in fitful sunshine between the showers to the Hall, and after a warm welcome, Julia was presented to the Honourable Toby Kinston. He was a pleasant-faced plump young man, not in his regimentals, but in civilian dress of snuff brown coat, buff breeches and yellow waistcoat. His thick curly brown hair was cut in the fashionable style, and his easy and relaxed manner, particularly with his betrothed, was delightful to see, and, thought Julia, exactly how a young couple on the verge of matrimony should be.

The more she conversed with him during the afternoon, the more certain she felt of his genuine feelings of affection for Susan and how well suited they were. There was much merriment, and talk of wedding plans as well as the proposed visit to Astonbury on the following Tuesday, before Julia could make her farewells.

Lady Wentworth drew Julia aside briefly to implore, 'My dear, I know you are still in mourning for your great uncle. However, I have proposed a small dinner party for Toby to meet some of our neighbours next Thursday. If you were able to attend it would be delightful for us all. Only a few people, such as the Sandersons, Barlows and Walter-Hunts with their eldest son will be here.

'No dancing of course. I know she is still in the schoolroom, but Caroline will be present as she has just had her sixteenth birthday. We feel it is time, before her debut next year, for her to gain a little knowledge of the polite world. Oh, do say you will come. I shall send Hopkins with the carriage to collect you and I shall be forever in your debt if you accept, as, without you, there will be thirteen for dinner which would never do,' she added smilingly.

Julia murmured her assent. 'I am sure I will enjoy it very much.'

'Bless you, my dear. I knew I could rely on your support. I shall send the carriage at eight o'clock.'

On that happy note, the ladies said their goodbyes.

Dark rain clouds were gathering in the sky as Julia prepared to leave, but she refused her hostess's offer of the family carriage as it was a relatively short walk. Hardly had she and Smithers turned the bend in the road when the first raindrops fell.

'We must hurry Smithers or we are going to be soaked.'

The two women increased their pace as much as they could. With the rain falling steadily, they heard the sound of an approaching carriage and moved to the side of the road. The chaise came alongside and stopped. Gratefully, Julia went over to it to see who the kind benefactor was, and looked into the beautiful face of Gerald's French mistress. Instinctively, she shrank back as the door swung open.

'Bonjour, bonjour la chaste pucelle; montez dans mon carrosse. Il pleut si fort, et, vous avez bien l'air d'une poule mouillée.'

Julia translated quickly. 'Good day, good day, chaste virgin. Climb into my carriage, it's raining so hard and you look like a wet hen!'

Julia was speechless as Lenore continued.

'You will be, how do you say, drowned if you do not get in, Mademoiselle Farraday; and your maid with you.'

The rain was indeed pouring down now. Even as she spoke, Julia could feel it penetrating her coat and dripping from the brim of her hat. Smithers shivered beside her.

'Merci, Mademoiselle.'

'It is Madame.'

Julia climbed inside, followed by Smithers, to sit opposite the Frenchwoman, feeling once again at a disadvantage with her wet, bedraggled appearance while the other, elegant in cream with dark green trimmings, looked immaculate. Julia spoke in French and looked Lenore in the eye.

'It is most kind of you to offer us a lift. Although my home is only a short distance away we would have been drenched to the skin.'

The lovely Lenore raised an eyebrow. 'Your accent is very good. Bah, it is nothing.' She waved her hand dismissively.

'Thank you.' Julia nodded stiffly. 'We are almost there. If your driver would turn at the next entrance to the right, we will be home.'

Lenore tapped on the carriage roof with her parasol and instructed the coachman accordingly, returning her gaze to Julia. For the last part of the ride, the two women sat staring at each other, while Smithers sniffed beside Julia. For the life of her, the erudite Miss Farraday could think of nothing to say, but sat as if mesmerised, like a rabbit to a stoat, by the woman opposite her.

Suddenly they were there, and the door was quickly opened by a cloak-covered groom.

Impulsively, Julia turned to Lenore as she was about to alight. 'Would you care to come in and take some refreshment?'

There was a flicker of surprise across the beautiful features. 'Why, yes. That would be most agréable.'

* * *

'Would you like tea or coffee?'

Julia shivered as she stood with Lenore in the morning room while that lady stared around the room.

Lenore's eyes glanced at the brandy decanter on the side table.

'It is, as you say, a trifle chilly. Perhaps something more warming?'

Julia involuntarily shivered again.

'Please, help yourself. Will you excuse me? I really must change. I will only be a moment.'

Lenore nonchalantly waved her hand as she headed over to the brandy.

'Take your time, ma chère.' She gave a mischievous smile and added, 'The cognac in this part of your country is always very good.'

Julia left the room and almost collided with a disapproving Mrs Knight in the hallway. Changing quickly into an oyster taffeta afternoon dress with Smithers' assistance, she rejoined her guest who was lounging on the couch, a glass of brandy beside her, a fashion periodical in her hands.

'Ah!' Her eyes took in every detail of Julia's appearance. 'Très élégant! It was said in the village that you were, how do you say, cette femme sans attraits 'a l'air provincial...plain! But no, you do have a certain something. You certainly do not dress like an Englishwoman. No, you have excellent taste.'

Julia felt rather embarrassed by the personal remarks and also rather pleased. Going over to the side table, she poured herself a small glass of brandy and then went to sit opposite the Frenchwoman.

'I don't believe we have been formally introduced.'

Even as she said it, Julia was aware how silly it sounded in view of the circumstances. She couldn't suppress a smile. 'I am Julia Farraday.'

'I know who you are. The heiress niece of the old man who lived here. I assure you, everyone in the district knows who you are.'

'Well, you certainly have the advantage. May I enquire who you are?'

There was a tinkling laugh as Lenore took a sip of her brandy.

'Why, I am Madame Lenore Fouquet.'

Julia lifted her eyebrows, as, with a rueful smile Madame Fouquet added. 'My late husband was one of the Emperor's officers. He did not return from Russia, and like many others, I am just another poor widow.'

'I am sorry, Madame Fouquet.'

'No, no, not Madame. Please call me Lenore and I will call you Julie. So much softer than Julia, do you not think?'

The Frenchwoman gave a wicked grin and sipped her brandy while Julia watched intently.

'As you wish Madam...Lenore.'

They both eyed one another and then Julia decided to ask the questions she longed to have answered.

'You are staying as a guest of Mr Hamilton?'

Lenore's smile was a thing of great beauty. 'Staying, yes. As a guest?'

Again the tinkling laugh. Leaning forward with an air of intimacy she said, 'I am a poor widow, not a rich heiress. Mr Hamilton is a very busy man who needs some, what do you say, companionship. I am pleased to make him so happy. Who knows, I might decide to become Madame Hamilton. What do you think of that?' she added triumphantly.

Despite herself, Julia felt her heart grow cold, yet looking at the beautiful Lenore, could understand how irresistible she would be to any man.

'I am sure that is something only Mr Hamilton could have an opinion on,' Julia said stiffly.

Lenore laughed again. 'You English are so formal, so unromantic, do you not think?'

'I'm sure I wouldn't know, Madame, I mean, Lenore. I have never visited your country.'

'Ah, but Julie, how you would love Paris. It is magnifique. And the fashions!'

She tossed the periodical aside contemptuously. 'Here they have no idea.'

Julia could only defer to the other's superior judgement on this subject.

Suddenly, Lenore asked, 'Did you enjoy your rides with Gerald every afternoon?'

Julia felt her face flush but looked her rival in the eye.

'Yes, I did. I had not ridden for some years and it was kind of him to assist me.'

'Bah. I hate horses. Only good for pulling the carriage. Besides, all this riding is so bad for the complexion.'

There was a moments pause, then Lenore, in a silky voice asked, 'Are you interested in Gerald as a possible husband, Julie chère?'

"Julie dear" gulped. 'Why, I...I...'

Lenore laughed loudly. 'Oh, he is so charming, my Gerald. And wicked too. So attractive to a woman, do you not agree? He would certainly like to help you with your inheritance, let me assure you.'

'Are you insinuating, Madame, that Mr Hamilton is interested in my fortune?'

Lenore walked over to the brandy decanter, poured herself another glass, and with a bewitching smile asked, 'But, Julie, ma chère, what else would he be interested in?'

Julia clenched her fingers around her glass and forced her most winning smile on the Frenchwoman.

'Of course, Lenore, how foolish of me to think otherwise.'

Lenore's eyes narrowed, but she gracefully turned and draped herself back on the couch.

'You do realise of course, that Gerald's fortune is not what it was.'

'I know nothing of Gerald's means.'

'So you do not know that since the revenue men have managed to stamp out the smuggling here, Gerald's income has dropped dramatically.'

With raised eyebrows , Lenore continued. 'I would have thought, Julie, with your old uncle's involvement, you would have been aware?'

Julia looked towards the door instinctively and raised her finger to her mouth.

'Bah,' sniffed Lenore. 'Everyone in the district knows what is going on.'

'I have known nothing. I have only been here a short time and have known nothing, nothing at all, of what has happened here.'

In her agitation, Julia got up and roamed around the room, twisting the ring she wore, in frustration.

'Ah, so it is true. You really have never been told of the smuggling that operates here?'

'I know only what I have been able to find out. And that is very little.'

Lenore sipped her brandy reflectively. 'Well, it's just about all finished now, though there may be one more run fairly soon, as I understand it.'

Julia looked hard at the other woman. 'Are you sure?'

'Yes, Julie chère.'

'Is Gerald involved in this run?'

Eyebrows raised again, Lenore smiled condescendingly as if to a simple child.

'Ma chère Julie, everyone will be involved. It is to be, how do you say, important cargo.'

Draining her glass and arising gracefully, Lenore extended her hand to Julia.

'Au revoir, Julie. I think if I marry Gerald, I will simply have to have you come and dance at my wedding. You would like, yes?'

With her most captivating smile, Julia answered, 'If Mr Hamilton ever marries you, I would be delighted to attend your nuptials, Lenore chère.'

Together the two ladies walked to the front door where a severe-looking Ridges waited. He opened the door and Julia could see that the rain had stopped. Lenore impulsively kissed a startled Julia, French fashion, on both cheeks, and sauntered elegantly to her carriage. As she stepped into the carriage she turned and saluted her hostess with a broad wink.

## Chapter Eighteen

'You've no call for running out,

till the house-dogs bark'

It was a perfect summer's day for the expedition to Astonbury, with only a gentle breeze stirring the leaves on the trees. The countryside looked lush and peaceful as the carriages passed by.

The cavalcade consisted of two carriages and two outriders. Sir Henry and his lady, together with Susan, Caroline and Julia led the way, with the Reverend and Mrs Talbot, Mrs Blake and Miss Martha Blake following in the second carriage. Toby Kinston and Stephen Wareham brought up the rear on horseback.

They arrived at Astonbury in good time, and were greeted with great cordiality by the custodian of the house who professed himself delighted to show them around the house, suggesting that they also explore the gardens and Roman ruins near the folly on the hill. This was promptly agreed to.

First, though, Julia had to make the acquaintance of Mrs Blake and her daughter whom she had briefly met at church, shortly after her arrival in the county.

Dressed in half mourning, Mrs Blake was a sharp-eyed middle-aged widow; her daughter, a tall handsome girl in her early twenties with a no-nonsense expression on her countenance, which, after the introduction, remained fixed firmly on Lieutenant Wareham.

Sir Henry and Mr Talbot led the way into the house, followed by Lady Wentworth with Mrs Talbot and the widow Blake. Susan and Toby came next, with Julia accompanying Caroline and Martha Blake, and Stephen Wareham following. The Elizabethan house proved interesting with its large panelled hall, intricate carvings, a priest's hole, and a bedchamber especially built for the Virgin Queen on one of her many progresses around the country, as the custodian explained.

Outside in the garden, Mrs Blake showed superior knowledge. All listened in respectful silence as that lady expounded her views on the garden's design, and revealed the plants' Latin botanical names to her audience with the assurance of an expert in that field. On reaching the folly, positioned on a gentle rise overlooking the surrounding countryside, they rested for a while before proceeding on to look at the Roman ruins.

Here, Mr Talbot came into his own, and Julia was agreeably surprised and impressed at the historical information that flowed effortlessly and authoritatively from him. However, Miss Blake was not to be denied, and in a spirited and forthright manner, she questioned the vicar on several points, and, warming to her subject, she kept him in conversation on the merits and demerits of the Roman invasion.

After some time, the party wandered away and split into groups, leaving Martha Blake and Mr Talbot to continue their discourse. Julia found herself being accompanied by Stephen Wareham.

'Lieutenant, I must thank you for inviting me to join your party on the Glorious last Saturday. It was most kind of you and Captain Martin,' she said, sincerely.

'My pleasure, indeed Miss Farraday. I trust you enjoyed the day.'

'Indeed, I did. I cannot remember when I have had a more enjoyable day out,' she said warmly, 'and I have written to the captain to tell him so.'

'Are you very knowledgeable about Roman antiquities, Miss Farraday?' asked the lieutenant, and Julia thought she saw a twinkle in his eye.

'No, I'm afraid not,' she smiled. 'Although I have enjoyed seeing the ruins. Whether they are genuine or not seems a moot point. Certainly the vicar thinks they are counterfeit and he appears to know his subject well. But Miss Blake seems equally convinced that they are genuine, and would seem to be as equally well qualified to prove so.'

She looked slyly sideways at him from under her lashes.

He chuckled. 'Knowing Martha as I do, Mr Talbot will be totally unable to convince her to change her opinion.'

Julia let that pass and together they walked companionably down the path. Lieutenant Wareham broke the silence by quietly asking, 'I don't suppose you have heard any gossip from the village since our last talk together?'

He looked at her meaningfully. Remembering his last conversation with her, and Lenore's remark, she answered carefully. 'No, Mr Wareham. Only that a run is expected soon.'

'Nothing more specific than that?' The look he gave her was piercing.

Julia shook her head, no.

'Mmm, a pity.'

'I promise you, sir, if I hear anything of importance I will let you know at once.'

His face was intense as he gripped her elbow to escort her around an upturned garden urn.

'I do appreciate that, ma'am. Not having lived in these parts long, you cannot easily comprehend how dangerously insidious smuggling has become to all the local inhabitants.'

'I am aware that it has been a scourge for the whole country while we have been at war with France, but now we are at peace, surely...'

'My dear Miss Farraday,' he interrupted. 'Smuggling here is of no recent occurrence. It has been going on for centuries and has cost the country millions of pounds, not to mention thousands of lives. It has corrupted more people and caused more havoc and distress than anything else, other than the war itself.'

He paused and looked at her quizzically. 'Have you ever heard the term 'owling'?'

She nodded, a little unsure of herself. 'I have heard the word used somewhere, but I can't remember exactly in what connection.'

'It was what this area of Kent and Sussex was famous for, and how the whole dastardly trade began two hundred years ago. Wool from our flocks was smuggled on the downs and marshes, across the Channel to the weavers of Flanders and France. Like owls, the smugglers did all their work by night. That is where the term comes from. To do this, on a large scale as it became, gangs were formed, and blackmail, intimidation and murder ensued. By return passage came the spirits and laces as payment, and in the last hundred years it has diversified to tea, tobacco, spices, china and other luxury items.'

Julia frowned in concentration and picked her words carefully. 'But surely if it is such an illegal and dangerous trade, most honest men would feel nothing but revulsion, and consequently, have no part of it?'

'Miss Farraday, you must remember that this part of England has been in a very depressed state. Many here have been in abject poverty, and to fill the belly most men would do anything, honest or not.'

He stopped and looked her full in the face. 'The financial return on these cargoes can be huge, even allowing a family to live for a year or more from the profits of a successful run.'

They continued walking on as he added, 'Another problem is that since our great victory at Waterloo, there has been a huge influx of over two hundred thousand soldiers and seamen back into the country, and for whom there is no chance of employment. Naturally, they need no persuasion to throw their lot in with the smugglers for gain.'

Julia shivered inwardly. On her excursions to London from Windsor, she had seen the pathetic sight of these very servicemen he spoke of, begging or playing the fiddle or sailor's pipe for the few pennies given to them by a largely unfeeling public.

She stopped and looked at him attentively. 'I do see what you mean. Surely though, if the problem is as grave as you say, the Government must put more resources into the preventive service, and look after the soldiers and sailors that have returned from the wars.'

The shadow of a smile crossed his face.

'Ah, ma'am, there you have it. If only we had more men and equipment to deal with the matter it would lighten the load considerably. Attempts have been made though, and Captain McCulloch has devised a scheme, which the Admiralty has supported, for establishing a coast blockade between North and South Forelands, and now it's being extended to Beachy Head. It's a start, but regretfully still not enough.'

Julia sent him a sympathetic glance. 'And in the meantime, it's you and the other preventive men who are trying to stamp out smuggling against large numbers of organized rogues.'

'That's the truth of it. In most cases it is passed down from father to son and has become a family affair.'

'Now we are at peace with France and the embargoes have been lifted, hasn't smuggling decreased along the coast?' she inquired.

'One would hope so. But though duties and levies have been relaxed or lifted, there is still plenty of illicit trade going on, even increasing with some goods. Although spirits are no longer prohibitive, tobacco and other products are still attractive to the smugglers for monetary gain.'

As Julia was about to question him further, she was interrupted by Martha Blake inquiring brightly, 'Lieutenant Wareham, you have completely monopolised Miss Farraday and I am sure this will never do.'

She roguishly wagged a finger at him in mock admonition, and, slipping her arm through Julia's, added, 'I have so much wanted to have a tête à tête with you, dear Julia, to hear of your life at Court.'

Julia saw a look of pained resignation sweep across the lieutenant's face as he bowed to Miss Blake, and begged the ladies to proceed before him. Afterwards, Julia could hardly remember the contents of the conversation she had with that lady, only a feeling of exhaustion. It seemed to consist of Martha's busy life in Rye, her mama's poor health compared to her own iron constitution, plus certain innuendoes, accompanied by a girlish giggle, that dear Lieutenant Wareham was, indeed, her most particular friend.

The justice of this, Julia wondered at, as that particular gentleman showed no obvious signs of partiality when all the party joined together to enjoy the refreshments considerately provided by the steward. Julia felt a satisfactory wave of pleasure that this was so.

Seated next to Mr Talbot as he discoursed knowledgeably on Roman antiquities at some length, she saw Susan basking in the undivided attention of her Toby, with Lady Wentworth and Mrs Talbot looking on benignly, Mrs Blake disapprovingly, and Sir Henry somewhat bemused. Caroline did little to disguise her vexation, even while Martha Blake chatted spiritedly to Stephen Wareham, who looked frankly bored.

At length, Lady Wentworth spoke to her spouse, and after thanking the steward for their excellent repast, the party made its way back to their conveyances and headed home.

## Chapter Nineteen

'Trusty's here, and Pincher's here,

and see how dumb they lie'

The next morning after breakfast, Julia dealt with her correspondence.

Princess Elizabeth, now the Hereditary Llandgravine of Hesse-Homberg, had written a long chatty letter describing her new life in Homberg, her happiness obvious on every page, though missing Julia's company with their artistic tastes. She issued a warm invitation to come and stay should Julia visit the continent. There was also a letter to reply to from Princess Augusta, which had contained all the current news from Court as well as her sympathy at the sad loss of Mr Farraday.

Afterwards, feeling like some fresh air, Julia decided to walk to the village church to visit her great uncle's grave. Smithers was busy in the sewing room mending articles of clothing, and as it was only a short walk, Julia went alone, basking in the warmth of the sunshine. She soon found the plot in the small graveyard, and after laying a few white roses on the grave, was contemplating what type of headstone should be placed on it and the appropriate wording, when an unexpected voice made her jump.

'Good morning, Miss Farraday. Oh, I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you.'

The Reverend Talbot's voice was as smooth as his apology, and Julia felt foolish for having jumped so.

'Not at all, sir. I trust I find you well?'

'Tolerable, my dear Miss Farraday, tolerable.'

Silence ensued between them, broken only by the whispering of a gentle breeze and the soft buzzing of a bee.

'I felt I must visit my great uncle's grave and decide on the headstone,' Julia explained to break the awkward silence.

At last the parson spoke.

'A sad loss, Mr Farraday, for the whole village.'

Julia could not but wonder what he meant by that.

With a grave bow, he said, 'If I can be of any assistance to you, please do not hesitate to ask me.'

'Mr Talbot.' Julia hesitated.

'Yes, Miss Farraday?'

'Your remark about my Great Uncle Thomas being such a sad loss to the village. I don't quite understand what you mean, for I thought he was not well liked.'

He looked at her solemnly.

'I keep forgetting that you have only arrived here recently, Miss Farraday. Mr Farraday was a very reticent man and did not mix socially. You could not be aware of his generosity to those in need in difficult times.'

Julia twisted the amethyst ring on her finger and tried to formulate the words to answer him. The bee buzzed lazily around her and a distant lamb bleated.

'There never seemed to be villagers coming to the house to see him,' she said timidly.

Mr Talbot gave a rueful smile. 'Only in times of trouble did Mr Farraday intervene with help. Of a practical kind,' he added softly. 'The troubles that affect the poor and needy here are not usually spoken of.'

His florid face was suddenly stern with disapproval etched into it.

'Although I cannot agree with the breaking of the law, help has to be given to the innocent women and children, though there is still no reason why men should get involved with things that should not concern them. Only for greed and avarice; better they stay with honest trade. For them I have no sympathy and the law must take its course.'

With that he withdrew. Julia noticed for the first time, that for such a large man how stealthily he moved, his boots soundless on the grass.

* * *

After luncheon, with Jimmy as her groom, Julia went for a long ride towards the coast. She noticed out at sea, the white sails of a ship plying her way down the coast and shortly afterwards, around a headland, a trim craft appeared, its sails spread to the wind. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she turned to Jimmy who pulled up beside her.

'That's the revenue men's cutter, the Glorious,' remarked the boy. 'I think she's going to have a look at that lugger,' and he pointed to the vessel with the four-cornered sails that she had first spied.

Julia looked fondly at the ship, remembering the recent happy day she had spent at sea on board her.

Sure enough, as they walked the horses with the gulls circling them overhead, they could see the Glorious gaining steadily on the other ship. With the hoisting of flags, it wasn't long before the lugger hove to and waited for the revenue craft to come alongside and board her. Obviously, this was just a routine inspection that happened regularly in these waters, but Julia found it interesting to watch.

As they trotted homewards, another rider appeared on the horizon. Soon, Julia recognised the broad-shouldered figure of Gerald Hamilton. A series of emotions ran through her, but by the time they drew up together, her composure had returned.

He saluted her smartly and his eyes took in every detail of her appearance, and the presence of Jimmy.

'I trust I see you well, Miss Farraday?' His eyes were questioning.

'Indeed yes, thank you, Mr Hamilton.'

The tone of her voice matched his. He turned his horse around alongside and proceeded to accompany her. Jimmy instinctively dropped back.

'I had hoped I would see you out riding today. I have missed our afternoon rides, Julia.'

The lady said nothing. Leaning slightly forward, he looked at her intently.

'I do mean what I said, you know.'

She still said nothing. With a sigh he changed tack.

'I really do not see why my guest should change our friendship, Julia.'

At that, Julia looked thunderstruck, and seeing her face he hastily tried to make amends.

'Because I have a guest, a female admittedly, who as a widow I have been trying to assist, should not...'

' Do you think me a complete fool? Your lovely Lenore told me everything yesterday, exactly.'

'What do you mean? What did she tell you yesterday?'

'Did she not tell you that she very kindly gave me a lift home when I was caught in the rain after visiting the Wentworth family?'

'No,' his voice was grim. 'She did not.'

'And she came in and had some refreshments.' Julia steadied Athene with trembling hands. 'We had quite a tête à tête.'

His face looked even grimmer. 'Go on.'

'No. I don't believe I shall.'

Eyes momentarily locked together, and with just the sound of the horses' hooves on the turf, they simultaneously turned away and rode in total silence, flushed fury on her face, white cold anger on his. Behind them, Jimmy began to whistle.

They parted with stiff formality at the Farraday driveway and for the rest of the day Julia felt distracted, unable to apply herself to anything constructive. Thursday arrived with the happy anticipation of the dinner party at Wentworth Hall.

'Hmm, I'm not really sure, Smithers. What do you think?'

There were three dresses lined up for inspection; a black silk with matching lace flounces, a lavender sprigged muslin with deeper silk bands over a matching petticoat, and a grey crape with black trim.

'The black is most becoming although the grey is smart,' said the maid, watching Julia carefully. 'It is quite warm though, almost humid.'

'The black is too formal for what is the celebration of an engagement, and the grey is... No, the lavender would be the coolest,' Julia declared.

Smithers smiled. It was certainly damp and mild. The sprigged muslin was the prettiest of the three mourning dresses and the one she'd been sure that Julia would wear. With a pearl-grey embroidered shawl around her shoulders, a matching reticule in her gloved hands and her mother's pearls around her throat and in her ears, Julia, in lavender, entered the Wentworth coach.

Having arrived a little later than the intended time, most of her fellow dinner guests were already present; Susan looking bridal in silver gauze and Toby in his regimental dress uniform looked heroic. The proud parents were beaming cordiality, and Caroline, with her hair up and modestly attired in pink muslin, was on her very best behaviour.

Someone else was also on their very best behaviour. Gerald Hamilton, resplendent in evening dress, seemed to dominate the room with his presence and the smile he gave her exuded charm as he bowed over her hand.

'My dear, Miss Farraday, this evening has turned into perfection with your arrival.' His smile became even broader.

'I had no idea you were to be present tonight, Mr Hamilton,' said that lady with a steely glint in her eye as she accepted a glass of negus from a footman.

'Ah, the same cannot be said for myself for you were the temptation that induced me to come,' and his eyes danced.

Julia could feel her cheeks colouring, very much aware of Lady Wentworth's benign smile as she watched her, and Julia turned from Gerald to greet the other guests. Most of them she had met when they had called on her to express their condolences on her great uncle's death, and were mainly middle-aged county people who farmed in the neighbourhood. The exception was the Barlows, he a notary from Rye.

Amid the guests whom Julia had not previously met, was Edward Walter-Hunt, a young man of twenty, down from Cambridge, who had been a playmate of Susan's nursery days. Julia could only notice with wry amusement his immediate infatuation with the beauteous Caroline who basked happily in his admiration.

At dinner, Julia was escorted in by Gerald who was seated on her right, with quiet Mr Sanderson on her left. Conversation flowed easily and Julia made sure she did not neglect her neighbour on her left, all the time aware of Gerald who was at his charming best with Mrs Walter-Hunt.

Well, thought Julia, Lady Wentworth did plead with me to come to make her numbers even. Why, though, invite Gerald Hamilton? She looked at him in profile as he chatted animatedly across the table to Toby. How could he sit there so calmly enjoying himself, knowing that he had flirted and encouraged her while all the time back at his house...?

As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned and gave her a seductive smile while continuing on with his conversation. Mr Sanderson gave Julia a lengthy description of his Italian tour, when he was a young man, and it was while he was refreshing himself with a sip of claret that Gerald leaned to Julia and asked, 'Are we going riding tomorrow?'

Julia felt conflicting emotions and after a moment said quietly, 'I think not.'

His face suddenly turned sulky. 'Then the next day?' he persisted.

She felt confused by his nearness and the dark intensity of his face. She desperately wanted to say, yes of course I'll go riding with you. I'm in love with you, more so than that French courtesan you have so conveniently forgotten for the moment.

She gripped the ring on her forefinger and answered shakily, 'I don't know, Gerald. I must think.'

Sir Henry at that moment stood up to propose a toast to the affianced couple and with a trembling hand Julia reached for her champagne glass, all too aware of Gerald's thunderous face, his eyes still fixed upon her. Once more their eyes met and Julia felt tears spring into her own as his suddenly softened.

'To Toby and Susan.'

Their joint voices rang out as they all stood and drank the toast. After Toby replied in a flushed and happy state, they continued with the remainder of the meal, until Lady Wentworth gave the signal for ladies to retire, leaving the gentlemen to their port and tobacco. There was much laughter drifting in from the dining room, and the ladies smiled amiably at one another at the thought of their men folk enjoying themselves while the ladies discussed the proposed wedding and the bride's trousseau.

Finally, the doors opened and Sir Henry and Gerald entered the room in excellent spirits. Both being large men they filled the wide doorway. The rest of the party, led by Toby, followed behind, all having dined well.

As coffee was served, Julia could not help but notice how all the men gathered around Gerald, young Edward looking at him in particular admiration. Even the older men seemed to hang on his every word while Sir Henry treated him as an absolute equal.

Gerald paid attention to all the other women in the room, circulating with ease, causing them to laugh with merriment at his stories, and making the bride-to-be and her sister blush rosily while looking at him in adoration.

Julia was only too aware as she discussed her recent visit to Astonbury with Mr Barlow, that she was being ignored much to her chagrin. Really, she thought, he is like a spoilt child. If he cannot get his own way... and Ridges words came flooding back to her.

When the evening ended, the Sanderson's offered her a lift home in their carriage, which she gratefully accepted.

As he said good night to her, Gerald had the effrontery to say with a completely serious demeanour, 'I had hoped to be able to escort you home tonight, Julia.'

The blatant audacity of the man! Her jaw dropped in amazement and he gave a loud chuckle as his eyes danced again.

'Yes, I know that would never have been permitted, but a fellow can only hope, just as I hope we may begin riding again in the very near future such as tomorrow? For now though, goodnight my dear Julia.'

## Chapter Twenty

'They don't fret to follow

when the Gentlemen go by!'

The following afternoon, Julia walked into the stables flicking her whip against her thigh with impatience. She had not slept well after her conversation with Gerald and felt thoroughly out of sorts. An invigorating ride would do her good and would hopefully lift her spirits. Deep in the recess of her mind she wondered if Gerald would also be out riding as he had hinted last night.

Jimmy was standing on a box putting the final touches to Athene's bridle, the saddle already in place. His pony, Teddy, stood tethered nearby, quietly chewing on its bit.

'She's ready now, Miss,' he exclaimed, as he tossed some of the mane away from the mare's eyes.

'Thank you, Jimmy. I'll lead her out.'

Julia took the reins from him and led the snorting mare out into the yard. Jimmy followed with his pony as she went over to the mounting block and climbed into the saddle. Together they trotted down the drive and out into the road, taking their usual route through the old city gate towards the coast.

As they trotted by, some roadside bushes parted slightly and a man watched their progress for a moment before disappearing.

Julia kept a keen eye out for Gerald Hamilton half hoping he would appear on the horizon, which made her cross with herself for wishing it so.

Athene seemed to have a lot of pent up energy and when they reached the sands, Julia called to Jimmy, 'Let's gallop along this stretch of the beach.'

Nothing loath, the boy agreed happily, and together they raced along the beach above the tide. Julia kept Athene under restraint with some difficulty as the mare was keen to have her head, but there was no way Jimmy's fat pony could ever keep up. They slowed to a walk, the pony blowing hard. There were fishing boats out at sea and Jimmy tried to place the flag of a foreign vessel further out.

In a leisurely fashion they made their way back up the path in single file, a few stray sheep moving out of their way at their approach. As they reached a thicket at the top of the road, Julia heard a sudden cry and a thump. Turning her head, she saw Jimmy on the ground and an unknown man standing over him as he struggled to get up.

'What the devil are you...'

The words had hardly left her mouth when she realised another man was coming out of the bushes beside her, his expression fierce. A noise made her spin her head around, and in horror, she saw Wyatt emerge from behind a large rock. He lunged forward, a pistol upraised in his hand. His ugly face, still bearing the scars of Julia's last encounter with him, was contorted with rage and he struck down hard, twice in quick succession on Athene's rump and then fired the pistol. The retort was deafening and the mare reared in the air, forcing Julia to cling on to prevent being thrown as she bolted away.

Lying low along the mare's neck, her whip and reins gone, Julia gripped the mane and hung on in sheer desperation as they hurtled over ground sickeningly close to Julia's eyes. The terrified animal seemed to gather even more speed, and Julia knew if she came off now she would be either killed or seriously injured.

Wyatt's parting words echoed in her brain; 'This'll teach you, my fine lady, to have truck with revenue men!'

She could feel herself weakening as Athene sped on, showing no signs of slowing down. Julia prayed fervently that she would tire of running. The pounding of the galloping hooves on the terrain blotted out all her senses, making her unaware for a moment of the black legs of another horse. It ranged alongside her and the rider lunged for the reins, grabbed them, forcing Athene to gradually slow until the mare was down to a walk.

Julia burst into tears from sheer relief as Gerald put his arm around her.

'Oh Gerald, thank you, thank you!' she sobbed.

'There, there,' he comforted her, patting her shoulder. 'Whatever can have happened for Athene to behave as she did?'

The mare was lathered in sweat. Julia, exhausted, slipped from the saddle, her legs unable to hold her and she sank to the ground. Gerald dismounted as well, still holding the reins of both horses and knelt down to her.

'Wyatt!' gasped Julia.

He looked at her in amazement. 'Jeb Wyatt! Whatever do you mean?'

Julia gulped. 'Jimmy and I were just returning from our ride when three men jumped out of the thicket at the top of the road. One was Wyatt. Jimmy was knocked off his pony and Wyatt struck Athene and fired his pistol causing her to bolt, to try and kill me because I have been seen with Lieutenant Wareham and went out on the Glorious as a guest of Captain Martin,' she spoke almost incoherently.

He looked incredulous. 'Well, that certainly wasn't very wise of you, Julia, but it still doesn't explain why he should try to hurt you.'

'Oh, don't try and understand,' she said vehemently. 'He hates me with a passion that I don't even begin to comprehend.'

Julia took a deep breath and proceeded to tell him of her last encounter with Jeb Wyatt when she was returning from her disastrous visit to Gerald's home and of how Wyatt had mutilated the hare in front of her and her retaliation by horse whipping him. Gerald gave a low whistle and looked at her with something akin to admiration as she stood up on trembling legs and accepted his handkerchief. With shaking hands Julia tried to tidy her hair, her hat lost in her wild ride.

'This matter must be reported to the local constable in Rye,' he said firmly.

'The man is mad!' declared Julia, brushing mud and lather from her habit. 'Quite mad, and I doubt any constable in Rye could control him. I must go back and find Jimmy.'

She shivered, picturing Wyatt's face. 'Now he has my great uncle's legacy why doesn't he go away or just leave me alone.'

'I will speak to Jeb Wyatt,' he announced. His face was contorted with barely suppressed rage. 'I will give him the whipping of his life!'

'No, Gerald, no!' She grabbed his arm. 'He would take his revenge and you could be killed.'

He put his forefinger beneath her chin and lifted it up so she was looking into eyes full of tenderness.

'Would you really be sorry, Julia?' he asked softly.

How quickly his moods change, she thought, and answered firmly, 'Yes, I would.'

His lips brushed against hers, quickly and lightly like a butterfly before she could move.

'Ah,' he murmured, 'here comes your groom.'

Turning, she saw Jimmy galloping towards them on his pony.

'Gerald, I can't thank you enough for saving me as you did today. If you hadn't been there...' Her voice tailed off.

'Nonsense! You did a credible job holding on and not panicking and trying to jump off. I had gone out today in the hope of meeting you out riding,' He smiled ruefully. 'Am I forgiven, Julia?'

She hesitated, weakening. 'Of course, but Lenore?'

Like a cloud across the sun, his face turned sullen.

'Forget Lenore. She is just an amusement though delightful at times, I must admit.'

Julia's heart froze.

A panting Jimmy pulled up beside them. 'Oh, Miss, Miss, are you much hurt?'

'No, Jimmy, no. Thankfully Mr Hamilton managed to save me.'

She leant weakly against Athene who was still blowing hard. 'Did they hurt you, Jimmy?'

'Oh, that Silas Barnaby knocked me down from Teddy but I wasn't hurt,' he said angrily. 'And he tried to hold me back, but I kicked him in the shins and ran away faster than he could go and got to Teddy. They gave up chasing me so I came looking for you.'

'Well, now you have found each other I shall escort you home,' said Gerald with a smile, and he lifted Julia back into the saddle.

She could feel the exhausted mare trembling beneath her as she patted her and whispered consolingly to her before taking up the reins.

'Those men will all be gone by now,' announced Jimmy, falling in behind. 'Especially Jeb Wyatt.'

'No matter,' said Gerald. 'I will deal with Jeb Wyatt when next I see him.'

'Oh, no, Gerald!' begged Julia. 'Promise me you will do nothing foolish.'

He smiled lazily at her. 'I won't promise anything as I make it a rule never to keep any promises.' Julia fell silent. He was the most frustrating perplexing individual she had ever known. Totally mercurial, changing like a chameleon.

He had just saved her from certain death or a dreadful injury, and from feeling grateful, she was now finding him maddeningly perverse. The presence of Lenore appeared as a vision before her and she knew in her heart that Lenore could never be 'just an amusement'.

The horses walked wearily towards home while their riders scanned the countryside for any sign of the ruffians who had attacked them. Nothing was to be seen but the peaceful rural setting around them. Finally, they reached the house and went straight to the stables. As Julia dismounted and Jimmy led Athene away to wash her down, Gerald said, 'I suggest that you do not go out riding again, Julia, without my protection.'

Julia struggled to find the right words.

'I cannot be a prisoner here just awaiting your escort when it so pleases you, Gerald,' she said evenly.

'I'm afraid it means just that, my dear,' he said condescendingly. 'Do not venture out until I can accompany you.'

'So, I must await your pleasure?' she inquired.

'But of course,' he answered mockingly.

He wheeled his horse around and trotted off.

Julia was furious, a range of emotions pulsing through her. How dare he! To think that he had saved her and she had been so grateful! In the next moment he was almost insulting her, trying to make her available at his convenience, treating her as he would Lenore, an amusement, at his beck and call! Well Gerald Hamilton, she thought, as she marched back to the house, I am not going to be a bread and butter miss, just awaiting your pleasure when you feel like it. No, I am now in control of my life, thanks to Great Uncle Thomas, and I will not be dictated to by you.

* * *

After a near sleepless night she awoke heavy eyed and listless. The weather felt clammy and thunderous. Smithers eyed her suspiciously as she poured the morning chocolate.

'You need some fresh air, Miss Julia. You look a trifle peaky. After breakfast, why not do some drawing in the garden while the weather's still fine.'

'Yes, perhaps I might.'

For some reason though, she could feel no inclination to even get out her drawing utensils. The mocking face of Gerald Hamilton seemed to keep coming before her eyes, and in desperation she contrived to visualise Philip Stratton's handsome features, but without success. Her mood seemed to have permeated the whole household, as discussions with Mrs Knight found that lady unusually quiet and abstracted while Ridges seemed nervous and on edge. Molly, too, was not her cheerful self and as the day progressed, even Smithers seemed about to burst into tears at any moment. Of Gerald Hamilton, there was no sign.

It was a very worried looking Ridges who ushered in her visitor the next day, and as Julia rose to greet him, she could not help but notice her manservant's disapproval.

'Why, Lieutenant Wareham, this is a surprise.'

'I'm sorry, Miss Farraday, if I have come at an inconvenient time.'

'No, no, not at all. Please sit down.'

The lieutenant did so, carefully placing his legs encased in dusty boots directly in front of him. After a few pleasantries, Julia waited for him to come to the reason for his visit and it wasn't long in coming.

Leaning forward, in a quiet confidential voice he inquired, 'Miss Farraday, may I ask if you have heard any further reports of an impending run?'

Lenore's words sprang into her mind and it took her only a second to nod in agreement.

'Do you know when?' His voice dropped to an undertone.

'No, only that a run is due soon.'

'May I ask how you found this out?'

Julia was in a quandary. The thought of Gerald's involvement caused a shiver to run down her spine, and she did not want to betray Lenore's confidences.

'I really cannot say.'

'Can you find out any more information?' He straightened up in his chair and held her gaze. 'It would be of vital importance to the service. We must stamp out this evil trade.'

He lowered his voice and looked back towards the door. 'I would not want you to take any unnecessary risks, for these are dangerous men who don't hesitate to murder at will. Remember that. However, I know the service would give you protection and any other assistance you may require.'

There was silence for a moment, then he stood up and made his farewell. As she escorted him to the door, he added in a grim whisper, 'I thought you would like to know that the service has received confidential information from the Government that a suspected Bonapartist agent has arrived here seeking sanctuary. It would appear to be the same man who used Mr Farraday's barouche and is now being given shelter by some personages in high places.'

Julia looked suitably shocked.

'It seems that the man was a French colonel who had served in the French settlement of Pondicherry in India, under General Raymond, who became a Bonapartist supporter after the Revolution. Of course, Mr Farraday had spent considerable time in India, although he is not the only one in the district to have lived there,' and he looked questioningly at her.

Julia's mind was racing as her knowledge of the globes came back to her. Her great uncle had done most of his trading in Bombay, while Madras, where Gerald had stayed, was not too far distant from Pondicherry. With as calm a demeanour as she could muster, she merely nodded at the lieutenant.

He went on quietly. 'I know that you will not repeat this information, and if you hear anything at all, please contact me. Just send a message, or better still come yourself.'

After his departure, Julia reflected on the situation. His visit would have been noted and disapproved of, which already meant she was in a vulnerable position. Was Gerald linked to this French colonel or was it merely a coincidence that he had lived in Madras?

Besides, when he was in India, the French had already been defeated there many years earlier. To gain any more information would mean a visit to Lenore to try and elicit more facts.

There was no guarantee that Lenore would be forthcoming, and remembering the officer's words of warning regarding the smugglers, Wyatt's evil face suddenly sprang into her mind. With a shudder, she decided to sleep on the matter and consider what she must do in the morning.

## Chapter Twenty One

'If you do as you've been told,

likely there's a chance'

Julia had just finished her breakfast and was about to tackle her correspondence when Molly entered the room to announce, 'Ma'am, a messenger has arrived with a letter for you.'

This was a surprise at this early hour. Unable to mask her curiosity, Julia took the proffered note. She walked into the morning room, picked up her letter opener and opened it.

In flowing script was a perfectly worded invitation from Philip's aunt, Lady Furnbridge. It began by apologising for the short notice but could Julia possibly visit her the day after tomorrow. Her nephew Philip, Viscount Illingworth, had expressed such pleasure in Miss Farraday's company that she very much desired to make her acquaintance before she left the following day for a protracted stay at Sharnborough.

Julia was speechless as she read on. The footman would wait to take back her reply, and, if it was more convenient, Lady Furnbridge would send her own carriage to collect her. Her head was in a whirl. This was so unexpected, yet the letter was cordial and an answer would have to be given.

Carefully, she wrote her reply, gave it to Molly to give to the footman, and then rang the bell for Ridges.

'I am going to need the services of a competent coachman, and the barouche readied for a journey to Hastings,' Julia announced firmly.

The manservant wrung his hands.

'I don't know, ma'am. The barouche would get you there, but we have no horses.'

'Surely,' persisted Julia, 'there must be someone in the district who would hire me two carriage horses for the day? I assure you, I will pay them well. Besides,' she added tartly, 'we know someone in the district must have two suitable horses from the night when the barouche was last used.'

Ridges gave her a defeated look and said, 'I will see what I can do ma'am.'

'We don't have much time as her ladyship expects me the day after tomorrow,' she reminded him. 'In the meantime, I would suggest you get young Jimmy and one of the maids to give the carriage a thorough clean and polish.'

Smithers, when told of the visit, was visibly pleased.

'Ah, Miss Julia, to pay a call on Mr Stratton, I mean, Lord Illingham's aunt. That is good news, Miss Julia. Let me go and look out your travelling costume and what else may be needed for the journey. You will need me to accompany you.'

The last was said triumphantly, and Julia nodded her agreement. Smithers sailed forth to look out the clothes with a satisfied smile on her face. Julia knew she had always liked and approved of Philip, while her disapproval of Gerald was blatantly obvious.

On the morning of the visit to Furnbridge Court, Julia stepped into the transformed barouche. The paintwork was sparkling, the newly blackened spokes of the wheels pristine, and the interior was polished to perfection. Two matching bays were between the traces, groomed with the same care, and Julia was delighted that her wishes had been carried out so well.

On the box was Jimmy, seated beside the driver, who it eventuated, was his father, and, according to Ridges, a thoroughly experienced whip. Both wore borrowed livery and looked, according to Molly who witnessed the scene, as fine as five pence!

Ridges closed the carriage door with a bang and they were off, bowling along at a respectable pace, with Smithers prattling on about Court gossip of Philip's father, the disreputable Earl of Sharnborough. She was obviously intending to enjoy her outing away from Winchelsea.

Julia's mind wandered away from Smithers' flow of words, puzzling as to why the invitation from Isabella Furnbridge had been forthcoming. To be sure, Philip had certainly spoken to his aunt about her and had aroused her curiosity. Even so, a nagging feeling of being at a distinct disadvantage and the possibility of a lecture on her unsuitability as a connection to the House of Sharnborough, was the constant thought in her mind.

The barouche arrived at the Dower House of Furnbridge Court at the expected hour, and its occupants alighted at the pillared porch and climbed the steps. On entering the house, Julia was greeted immediately by her widowed hostess.

'Miss Farraday, it is so good of you to visit me at such short notice. I do hope you didn't think me too presumptuous. Please, do come in and let me offer you some refreshments.' This was said with such a welcoming smile that Julia felt her fears vanish.

Isabella Furnbridge was a slight, willowy creature, past middle-age, but still with traces of her former beauty, dressed simply but fashionably, in mourning. Despite the sweetness of her smile, Julia felt there was a strong will behind it, of one who would not be easily thwarted.

Beside Lady Furnbridge was her companion, Miss Phoebe Watson, a distant relation of about the same age, but far more formidable, who looked at Julia in such a penetrating manner that she almost quailed beneath it.

'Phoebe, be so kind as to take Miss Farraday's maid to the housekeeper and see her wants are attended to,' said Isabella Furnbridge.

The two women left the room and Julia was escorted into the drawing room where refreshments were laid out. Julia accepted out of politeness, for she had never felt less hungry in her life.

'My dear nephew, Philip, has spoken of you in the most glowing terms, Miss Farraday.' Her hostess seemed to purr this compliment as she poured the tea.

'I have had the pleasure of knowing Lord Illingworth over many years of attendance at Court,' answered Julia evenly. 'He always showed me great courtesy and kindness, even on the most trying of occasions. I was naturally deeply distressed to read of his elder brother's tragic death and wrote to him expressing my condolence.'

Isabella Furnbridge nodded in agreement, her face clouded with distress.

'Oh, my dear, it was too, too, dreadful! Poor dear Selina, and those little girls.' She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief, and Julia kept silent until she composed herself.

'I must confess to you that Philip has always been my favourite nephew.' Lady Furnbridge looked Julia in the eye. 'I believe he will in time, be a fine head of the house of Sharnborough. Regretfully, my father and brother have left the estates in a heinous position owing to their ill fortune at the gaming table, and Philip will be fortunate indeed if there is anything left for him to inherit,' she said bitterly. 'There is only one way he can save Sharnborough and that is to marry an heiress.'

Julia tightened her grip on the teacup she was holding, and her heart began to pound.

'My dear, may I speak frankly to you?'

'Of course, Lady Furnbridge.' Julia's voice shook slightly.

'My nephew admires you greatly and is very fond of you.'

Isabella Furnbridge leant forward with an air of confidentiality, twisting her hands in her lap.

'I do not wish to be offensive, but as I said before, he must marry an heiress and one of equal birth. Though I am sure, with your standing at Court, that you come of a respectable family, your birth can in no way be the equal of his. I understand that your great uncle died recently and you have inherited from him. Not a great fortune though, and this Philip would need to keep his position and repay his brother's, father's and grandfather's debts, to retain the family estates.'

Julia sat in frozen silence.

'I really do not mean to be rude,' Isabella Furnbridge spoke in a gentler tone, 'but the situation is really quite desperate. I believe you need to know the truth of Philip's position, as it is too easy to become emotionally attached to someone in a situation that is hopeless.'

Lady Furnbridge put down her cup. 'Do you understand my meaning, Miss Farraday?'

White-faced, Julia met her gaze. 'You have been abundantly clear, Lady Furnbridge.'

'Oh, dear. This so difficult, but I do need to know that you understand the circumstances, so that should my nephew approach you regarding the delicate matter of a matrimonial alliance, you will consider the unsuitability of such a match.'

This was said in such an earnest and imploring manner, that Julia felt unable to take any offence from the remarks. For the truth was, Lady Furnbridge was right. Without a vast amount of money, Philip could never hold his position as Earl of Sharnborough. Her birth could never match his, and the money Great Uncle Thomas had left her would be but a drop in the ocean compared to what the debts amounted to.

It was the death knell of the girlish dream she had so cherished for the last six years. Now, with the reality of the true facts, Julia knew the dream was over.

'I can only say that it is highly unlikely that Philip would ever approach me in such a manner, for as you have pointed out, he knows his duty to his family and Sharnborough.'

She gave a rueful smile. 'I assure you, I would never encourage any further familiarity, so I think we can now consider this the end of the matter.'

Lady Furnbridge gave her a grateful smile.

'Oh, bless you, my dear. If you knew how relieved I am to hear you say that. The situation, as I said, is desperate, and Philip needs all the support we are able to give him.

'We will certainly not speak of this again, but I give you my heartfelt thanks for your understanding. May I offer you some more tea?'

Julia declined graciously and the subject was changed to her hostess's proposed journey the next day. Making polite conversation was not difficult, but Julia felt totally bereft and was relieved when she was able to make her farewell.

Returning home, Smithers kept tactfully silent while Julia remained lost in her dream world of what might have been.

## Chapter Twenty Two

'You'll be given a dainty doll,

all the way from France'

The next morning, Julia felt no wiser. She had had a restless night with sleep eluding her, and as a result felt more out of sorts than before. Her interview with Isabella Furnbridge had left her drained and tired. Again the day was dull and humid with the threat of thunder in the air, and a gloomy feeling of depression seemed to be present. With her head beginning to pound, Julia decided not to go riding or visit Lenore. Instead, after her mid-day meal, she retired to her room to rest and fell instantly asleep.

When she awoke it was already late in the afternoon, but she felt much more refreshed and decided that she would call on Lenore the following day.

That night when she went up to her room to retire, Julia became aware that the wind had picked up considerably and was now howling around the house. Going to the window, she pulled back the curtain to see the trees bending in the wind. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a large branch snapped off one of the trees. As the moon came out from a break in the clouds, she saw a small figure outlined in the moonlight.

Jimmy! What on earth could he be doing out there on a night like this? He could be killed if one of the heavy branches was to land on him. Feeling both agitated and annoyed, for she had grown fond of the boy, on a sudden impulse Julia went to the closet and took out her old grey travelling cloak. Fastening it, she went quickly down the back stairs, unlocked the door and stepped outside where the force of the wind almost toppled her over.

After her eyes adjusted to the dark, she hurried off in Jimmy's direction. She carefully skirted along the driveway avoiding the debris already fallen. Every now and then, glimpses of the moon appeared between the scudding clouds. Julia endeavoured to hold her cloak tightly about her even as the wind whipped her hair around her face.

When she reached the broken tree, she looked in vain for Jimmy. Then a flicker of light away in the distance caught her eye. Julia crept forward, keeping in the shadows, cautiously stepping over fallen debris until she saw the glimmer of a second light. As she got closer, the light became larger and she could tell it was a lantern that seemed to be making some sort of signal.

Without warning, powerful arms grabbed her, a hard callused hand came across her face, a cloth was stuffed into her mouth followed by a gag. A rough sack was thrown over her head and her hands and ankles tied so tight that the rope cut viciously into her flesh.

Then she was unceremoniously passed like a sack of wheat from man to man, thrown across the back of a pony and sent rocking and swaying down some path.

Terror filled every nerve of her body, but with the sickening feeling of her stuffed and gagged mouth, plus the smell of wheat and dirt from the sack which was almost smothering her, Julia's main effort was to keep breathing while being tossed about by the trotting pony. Though it was on grass, there was virtually no sound and she realised its hooves were muffled to keep it silent.

The run! It had to be tonight and she, stupid fool that she was, had blundered right into it!

* * *

After what seemed an eternity, the pony stopped. She was lifted off and roughly taken inside a building, out of the wind, down some stairs and into a room. Suddenly the sack was pulled off her head, and blinking in the light, with amazement she looked into the bland face of the Reverend Talbot, and beside him, Wyatt!

Unable to speak because of the gag, she could only stare in horror. As if reading her thoughts, Wyatt suddenly lashed out with his boot, catching her behind the knees, so that she fell heavily to the stone floor.

Realisation struck her. She was in the crypt of the church. Another boot, none too gently, rolled her over and she looked once more up into the face that she dreaded.

Wyatt snarled, 'You stupid bitch! Your nosiness will cost you dearly this time.'

He swung his leg back to kick her again. Instinctively, Julia closed her eyes to avoid looking at his evil face and to brace herself for the blow.

'That's enough!'

The Vicar of Winchelsea's voice was lethal as he cut in. 'She will be dealt with later. Go and get word to Harris that he'll have a passenger. And get a couple of men down here to take her. You stay with the run. Quickly now, get moving.'

Wyatt grunted and kicked her hard on the side of her body.

Her cry of pain was muffled by the gag. Terrified of the brutal man, she opened her eyes and was relieved to see him leave. The vicar murmured something under his breath to Wyatt and a vague memory jolted itself into her mind.

Julia was aware that Talbot was studying her, his face suddenly sinister in the lamplight.

'You really are a fool. Why interfere with things you know nothing about. And dealing with revenue men!'

His voice was contemptuous. 'You will be going on a sea voyage, my fine lady, and you won't be coming back. I'll leave you now to consider your own stupidity.'

The door opened slowly behind him and a man in a black cloak entered the room. The costume was different, but Julia recognised him immediately as the Lutheran Pastor she had seen in the dining room of the Rose and Crown in Tonbridge with Reverend Talbot.

His face registered surprise at seeing Julia and he uttered an oath in German.

The vicar intervened smoothly. 'Don't worry, Hermann. This is an uninvited guest who is no cause for alarm and will soon be going to visit Davy Jones' locker.' And he gave a beatific smile at the foreigner's obvious confusion.

With that, he picked up the lantern and together they went out. In total darkness, Julia heard the door shut and the bar slammed across, and then, silence. In terror, she struggled with the ropes that bound her, but to no avail. She was completely trapped. Apart from the scurrying of what could have been rats, there was only a chilling silence. Tears of fear and rage fell from her eyes, and her mouth and face ached from the pressure of the gag.

If only Stephen Wareham knew what had happened to her! His face appeared in her mind's eye and she prayed fervently for his presence, in the vain hope that he might somehow have been informed of the run. How long she lay there, struggling until she was exhausted, she didn't know. Fear for her life was uppermost in her mind and obliterated all other thoughts.

Suddenly, there was a sound. Julia heard the bar being lifted very quietly from outside the door, and then the noise of it opening. Light footsteps could be heard, and in the blackness she could hear them coming towards her. It was the men Wyatt had gone for, coming to take her away. Almost fainting with terror, helplessly, she could only lie still and wait. The next moment, a leg came in contact with her body and the unknown intruder fell across her.

'Miss, Miss, is it you?' Jimmy's voice was a frightened whisper.

Julia tried to speak inside the gag. Her relief was indescribable. Somehow, his hands found her face and his fingers began to try and loosen the knot of the gag. It seemed to take forever, but finally it was off. The feeling was incredible.

'Oh Jimmy!' Her voice was a croak. 'How did you find me?'

He set to, trying to undo the rope around her ankles.

'I saw you come out of the house and tried to stop you as the smugglers was there, but I were too late. I saw them take you and I followed them to here. I waited outside, saw the men come out and I crept down, but heard voices, so went back and waited. Then I saw Wyatt come out, and then the vicar.

'Oh Miss, if only I had a knife. You must get out of here.'

It was obvious he couldn't undo the ropes that bound her, and with mounting fear, Julia realised the smugglers would soon be there to take her away.

'Jimmy, you must get help.' Desperately she racked her brains.

'Go and tell Ridges, quickly, and take Athene and ride to Lieutenant Wareham's. Tell him everything, and that they mean to take me to a ship, and there's someone called Harris, who's taking me. He could be the ship's master. Go quickly now, get whatever help you can.'

He hesitated, not wanting to leave her.

Almost sobbing, Julia implored him. 'Please Jimmy, go, go!'

'Lawks, Miss, I'll be as quick as I can be.'

She felt him stand up, then he crouched down and retied the gag loosely around her mouth.

'In case they come back,' he whispered.

Then he was gone, the door shut, the bar back in place.

'Oh, dear God, let him find Lieutenant Wareham in time.'

She spoke the words to herself, trying not to think of the alternatives. Once again she waited, praying that help would arrive before the smugglers came to get her. But to her horror, she heard footsteps outside. It was too soon! Then the sound of the bar being lifted and the door opened. Then the masked light of a lantern. Lying face down with beating heart and eyes tightly shut, she waited as the steps came nearer to her. Strong arms turned her and opening her eyes, she gasped, 'Gerald!'

The gag slipped down her chin as she gazed in relief at his sardonic face.

'Well, you have got yourself in a pretty pickle, my dear Julia.'

'How did you know. Did Jimmy...?'

'Your young cavalier was reluctant, but yes, he told me.' He studied her for a moment. 'Your groom took off like a startled rabbit. I don't think he approves of me.'

'Oh Gerald, please, please untie me. We must get out of here. The smugglers will be back, and they, oh please, please hurry. We must get away from here.'

He seemed remarkably unperturbed and made no attempt to untie her. 'Well, one good turn deserves another, I suppose.'

His face was unreadable. 'If I release you, you will naturally consent to become my wife.'

Julia gaped at him. She could not believe what she was hearing. 'Gerald! Le..Le..Lenore?' It came out as a gasp.

'What of Lenore?'

'She is your mistress!'

'So? My dear Julia, you cannot have spent your time at Court without knowing something of the world. Every man in my position has a mistress. You will be my wife, quite a different thing. As for Lenore, well, I am sure you have heard of a ménage à trois. We should all manage together tolerably well, I'm sure.'

Stunned, Julia could only look at him. Noting her gaze, he reflectively stroked his chin.

'If Lenore is a problem, my pet, do not fret yourself. I am getting a little weary of her tantrums and there are plenty of other ladybirds available.'

He smiled his brilliant, wicked smile. 'You, my dear, are no beauty like the lovely Lenore, but you do have a certain something and will be a charming novelty along with Mr Farraday's fortune. So, I am sure we will do very well together. Do I have your consent?'

Julia's mind was in turmoil. Was he serious? What he was suggesting was unthinkable, and revulsion, mixed with anguish, flooded her entire being. Struggling with her emotions, she found she couldn't speak. The words would not come out.

'Very wise. I will treat you fairly and you will not interfere in my affairs, and all will be well.'

The vague memory that had earlier that night flashed through her mind when the Vicar of Winchelsea sent Wyatt out into the night, made Julia speak.

'Gerald. That day at the Wentworth's.' The words tumbled from her. 'Was that the vicar with you and Sir Henry?'

He looked surprised in the flickering light. 'Yes. Why do you ask?'

'So, Sir Henry is involved in this too?'

His laughter echoed in the crypt. 'Wentworth! That fool. No, of course not. All he wanted was to lease my land.'

'Then what was Mr Talbot doing there?'

'Why, to witness the lease documents when we signed the agreement.'

Bending down, he cut through the bindings on her ankles and stood her up. She swayed against him, the pain from her ankles searing through her. He started freeing her wrists, and with a cry, she began rubbing them vigorously to get the blood circulating.

'You really should not interfere with things that do not concern you, my dear,' he said gently, his face mocking in the lamplight. 'You were far too friendly with our industrious Lieutenant. You ignored all warnings, which could have got you killed.' His smile seemed almost demonic.

'You mean, that was a warning when you rescued me on the cliff?' Her voice was hoarse as the realisation hit her like a blow.

'I planned that with Jeb Wyatt to give you a real fright, but I assure you, my pet, I didn't want you dead. After all,' and his hand caressed her cheek, 'I made sure I rescued you, did I not?'

She could only stare at him, incredulous. Yet, she believed him.

'Come!'

Holding the lantern he walked to the church door, and limping, Julia followed, relief flowing through her that Sir Henry was not a party to the smuggling ring. Of course, the vicar would have walked over to Wentworth Hall that day, as she had done, so naturally there was no carriage or riding horse. It was ironic, really. For once in his life, Gerald had told her the truth. As they climbed up the stairs into the church, Julia found her voice.

'I will never marry you, Gerald Hamilton. Never, never, never!' She stood furious and defiant beside him.

'Oh, yes you will.' His hand gripped her under the chin, making her wince with pain. 'I like a woman with spirit and I've broken in some far more wilful than you. So don't try and play games with me.'

His face was close to her, cruel and twisted as he tightened his grip, making her cry out.

'That's just a sample and I don't hesitate to use a whip if I need to. Perhaps that's just what you need, a good thrashing. However, I'd prefer to use more enjoyable methods to bend you to my will.'

In the lantern light she saw his boyish grin, and all the old charm she remembered flickered for a moment across his face, then in a flash it was gone.

Suddenly, he released her, his eyes wide. 'Listen.'

Despite the wind, there was something else; the approaching thud of galloping hooves.

'Dragoons, quickly.'

Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her after him, the lantern forgotten as they reached the church door, then out into the darkness and the howling wind. They ran through the churchyard and headed towards the road, aware that other figures were also running.

Then came the thundering noise of horses, musket shots and men shouting. Julia tripped and fell. With a curse, Gerald turned to grab her. Out of nowhere, a dragoon galloped, a sabre raised. It arched down and struck Gerald. Julia rolled aside to avoid the horse's hooves. She lay terrified in the damp of a sodden hedge. Was Stephen out there somewhere? As another shot rang out she prayed to God that he was safe.

Then there was a whole company of men, horses, noise and confusion, while Julia, her hands over her ears, lay trembling in the darkness of her hiding place.

## Chapter Twenty Three

'With a cap of Valenciennes,

and a velvet hood'

Afterwards, Julia could not remember all of the horror of that night. She recalled the sudden silence as the dragoons rode on, rounding up men and ponies, and she recalled crawling from her hiding place to the inert form of Gerald, knowing the moment she bent over him that he was dead. The sightless, beautiful eyes stared wide open beyond her, and gently she had closed them, sobbing all the while, horribly aware of the blood caused by the terrible blow to his head.

Then Ridges had taken her by the shoulders and had led her back to the house. She remembered Mrs Knight and Smithers fussing over her, putting her to bed, then oblivion.

They kept her in bed for the next few days and she tried to block out the events that had occurred on the night of the run. Lady Wentworth and Susan had called to enquire after her, as well as Martha Blake. When Julia finally dressed and went downstairs, she found everything the same, except for the correspondence that awaited her. She couldn't face it just yet, and instead asked Molly if she could bring Jimmy to her. He came in, slightly apprehensive at first, but Julia's welcome smile soon restored his confidence.

'Jimmy, I have you to thank for my rescue in the church. I still don't know exactly what happened after you left me.'

'Well, Miss,' Jimmy's face was aglow with the remembered excitement of that night. 'I went to go and wake up Mr Ridges and get Athene, but before I could, Mr Hamilton caught me. In the dark and in my hurry, I hadn't seen him. But anyway, I knew you were friends and that maybe he could help you.'

Jimmy broke off looking worried.

'It's all right, Jimmy. What you did was right.'

He looked vastly relieved and continued on in a rush.

'Well, I told him what had happened and where you were, and that I were going to get Mr Ridges, but he took hold of me and didn't want to let me go. But I managed to break away. And then...'

With a gulp he carried on.

'I woke up Mr Ridges and saddled Athene and started off to find the revenue man like you asked me, but I was too late. Somehow they knew, and the dragoons and the revenue men came upon the smugglers, and there were fighting, and well,' here he finished lamely, Il think you know the rest.'

'No, I don't, Jimmy. Not all of it. Only that Mr Hamilton, who took me out of the church, was killed by one of the dragoons. Is that not right?'

She desperately hoped he would correct her and that her memory of that night was wrong. Instead he nodded his agreement.

'Yes. Mr Hamilton was one of three men who died that night and there were several more injured.'

Julia felt sick.

'The Reverend Talbot has been arrested and so have several others.' Jimmy voice was gleeful.

'Wyatt?' It came from her involuntarily.

'He got away, Miss.'

Her optimism fell and she leaned back in her chair, drained and exhausted.

After thanking Jimmy yet again for his loyalty and bravery, she dismissed him. She felt the tears pouring down her cheeks as Gerald's face loomed before her. She wanted to cast out those last memories of when they had been in the church together. She wanted to remember only the rides and his flashing smile. With a shudder, she stood up and wondered for the first time how the Frenchwoman had taken the news.

Going over to the desk, she sat down and wrote a brief note to Lenore, asking if she could call on her the next day. Sealing it, she rang for Molly and asked if Ridges would have it delivered.

She began to go through her correspondence. Amongst the letters was a familiar hand and with pleasurable anticipation, she opened it. Philip wrote a charming letter. With courtly grace and a slightly apologetic air, Philip conveyed to her that his mother had recently had a relative to stay, the Honourable Arabella Wetherby, the heiress daughter of the late Lord Wetherby. Did Julia remember her from her time at Court? Julia did. Arabella was as lovely as she was wealthy, sought by every fortune hunter in the land!

Well, it appeared that now Philip was to inherit the Earldom, Arabella was disposed to look kindly upon him, and that when his period of mourning was over, an official announcement of their betrothal would be made public. Naturally, as a friend, Philip knew that she would be pleased for him. He and Arabella sincerely hoped that after their marriage, Julia would come and stay with them at Sharnborough.

To her surprise, a little laugh escaped her lips. How doubly foolish she had been. Gerald with his intense flashing air and Philip with his courtly manners had both attracted her interest, but all to no avail - Gerald was now dead and Philip would marry another.

Perhaps it was because of Gerald's death, despite his treatment of her, that Philip's news did not seem as painful as she once would have imagined. Half-heartedly, she went through the rest of the letters.

On official notepaper was a brief note from Lieutenant Wareham. He was sorry to hear of her misadventure on the night of the run at the hands of the smugglers, and hoped that when no longer indisposed, she would send him word, for he would like to call with information of definite interest to her.

Julia sat very still, turning the paper over in her hands, the lieutenant's serious face suddenly before her.

Reaching for a pen, Julia began to write.

## Chapter Twenty Four

'A present from the gentlemen,

along o' being good!'

The following day, a note arrived by messenger from Lenore. It simply said, 'Please come.'

In the early afternoon and accompanied by Jimmy, Julia set off. The house looked deserted when they arrived, but the same manservant as before answered the door and led her to the room where she had had her interview with Gerald on her previous visit.

Even the old dog was lying by the desk. It raised its head on her entrance, the clouded brown eyes looked intently at her, then realising she wasn't Gerald, it flopped mournfully down again. Julia knelt down and patted Flush, struggling to stop the tears forming behind her eyelids.

The door opened and Lenore, exquisite in pale yellow, walked in, hands outstretched.

'Ah, ma chérie, so kind of you to come.'

Automatically, Julia took the hands and received a salute on both cheeks. Lovely as she was, Lenore's face was strained, the eyes too bright with shadows beneath them. There was no sign of mourning though with the colour of the dress and matching ribbon threaded through her curls.

'Please, sit down.'

Julia did, and for a moment the two women looked at one another in silence.

'What are you going to do?' The words tumbled from Julia.

With a nervous laugh, Lenore tossed her curls. 'Do? There is little I can do. With Gerald's death there is nothing here for me.'

There was bitterness in her voice. 'His fortune has gone. All that is left is debts.'

Lenore's eyes hardened as she added, 'I have friends in London.'

With a shrug of her shoulders, she continued on. 'I must think of my future. Here there is nothing. You will not be dancing at my wedding now.'

This was said with a wry smile, and Julia could only stare at her while admiring her courage.

'As a Frenchwoman in this county, I am regarded with suspicion, although of course I know nothing of smuggling or any other activities.'

Lenore's eyes were wide open and so innocent looking that Julia determined any man would believe her.

'In London I can make a fresh start. There, I will be a novelty, and I am sure as I am still beautiful, that some rich gentleman will want to be my protector.'

Her candour almost took Julia's breath away, and it was quite obvious that, upset as she was by Gerald's death, Lenore would not grieve but would find another lover.

'Lenore, may I ask you if Gerald was involved in any espionage with the Bonapartist faction?'

A fleeting smile crossed the other woman's face.

'To anyone else, I should say, no. To you, Julie cherie, the truth is Gerald was an ardent Bonapartist and worked actively with the party. Where do you think all the money went to, not only from his smuggling, but also his Eastern interests? All to promote the Bonapartists.

'To be sure he gambled as well but most went to the cause. He firmly believed that the Bourbons would soon overreach themselves and the people would tire quickly of their autocratic ways and overthrow them, leaving the path open for a Regency to be formed for the Emperor Napoleon's son, the King of Rome.'

It was just as she had surmised, though in her heart she had hoped it wasn't true, and that somehow Lenore would have denied Gerald having any involvement. But, she knew with the utmost conviction, that the Frenchwoman was speaking the truth.

There seemed to be nothing else left to say. As she stood up, Flush lifted his head and his brown eyes looked pleadingly at her. The memory of another pair of brown eyes that she had loved so much caused her to catch her breath.

Impulsively, Julia turned to Lenore. 'The dog. Will you take him with you?'

Lenore looked nonplussed. 'Non, non. I think not.'

'Then could I have him?' She asked haltingly, twisting the ring on her finger.

Lenore raised her eyebrows and shrugged. 'Of course, if that is what you wish.'

'I do.' Julia replied firmly. 'I will send Jimmy over in the morning to collect him.'

'Very well.' Lenore turned and held out her hand to Julia and, with a wistful smile said, 'In France we have an old saying, "Partir c'est mourir un peu" - To part is to die a little.'

Julia was touched by the Frenchwoman's comment and felt strangely confident that Lenore would overcome her current adversity to triumph yet again. They parted in a friendly fashion. Gerald's creditors had already swarmed through the house and Lenore was anxious to leave the district.

As she rode home, Julia mused on what the future would hold. A light drizzle was falling as Julia and Jimmy rode past the Norman church.

Impulsively, Julia turned to Jimmy.

'Do you know where Mr Hamilton's grave is?'

The boy looked at her wide-eyed. 'Yes, Miss.'

'Show me.'

They stopped and dismounted. Jimmy tethered the horses and led Julia around to the back of the church. He stopped at a new grave, the earth still fresh.

'Leave me for a moment, please.'

The boy looked questioningly at her, but did as she requested. It was a new grave in a family plot. Beside it was a headstone which read Frederick George William Hamilton, and beside him his beloved wife, Julia Cecilia Bridget Hamilton.

For a moment, Julia felt as if her heart had stopped. His mother bore her name. Why had he never told her?

Then she remembered his words the first time he had asked her to address him by his Christian name, and he'd said he would address her by her's, that Julia was his favourite name. She could feel the misty rain on her cheeks as she stood by the sodden earth.

'Why, Gerald, why? I loved you with all my heart and soul. Despite your French mistress and all the others in the past, I would have married you. You could have had everything I possessed. I know you must have loved me a little, but why, oh why did you have to be so cruel, so stupid!'

She was weeping now, the tears streaming down her face. She had loved him so, yet it could never have been, that at least she now knew.

There at the grave site, before her mind's eye, he appeared; on the galloping horse as he threw her a grin the first day she saw him; at the ball in the Assembly Rooms when she fell into his arms; how he flirted as they danced together; the day in Rye at the George; teaching her to ride; when she first felt his lips on hers. She saw again his face suddenly sulky when she thwarted him at the Wentworth dinner; the butterfly kiss; when he had saved her after Athene bolted; and then that last day in this very churchyard, and she shuddered at the remembrance.

Her mind went back down the years to Miss Anderton's Academy. One of the departing pupil's father had presented Miss Anderton with a beautiful golden retriever puppy, in thanks for the attention his daughter had received after an illness. The whole school adored it, and the normally stern and formidable headmistress was completely besotted with it. The puppy was petted and loved by the entire school; from the gardener and stable boy, to the cook and maids, as well as all the pupils, where he went from one to the other, revelling in their attention.

As time passed, he would wander away whenever he got the opportunity and would stay happily with whoever fed or made a fuss of him. Time and again he was brought back, and despite all the attention and treats and being confined, he would escape and be gone again. Finally, the day came when he wandered off and never returned.

Miss Anderton and all the girls had been heart broken, but he was never heard of again despite the promise of a reward. Somehow, the beautiful golden retriever seemed to sum Gerald up, for no matter what attention or adulation he received, it was never and would never be enough.

He was now gone forever, nothing could bring him back. Somehow, everyday life had to go on. Yet despite everything, a part of her would always love him; call it weakness or foolishness, but there it was.

She sighed, dried her eyes and walked back to Jimmy and the waiting horses.

On entering the house, Ridges bustled forward with an envelope that had arrived for her. Slitting it open with a paper knife, Julia read Lieutenant Wareham's note, asking if he could call on her the following week. A wave of pleasure rushed over her. It would be good to see the lieutenant again, and for the first time Julia realised how she had missed seeing him and how much she valued his friendship.

At five minutes to three on the prescribed day, attired in her oyster taffeta, hair done becomingly under Smithers' clever hands, Julia sat in the morning room and waited, Flush seated at her side. Right on the stroke of three, Ridges brought the lieutenant in. Seeming to fill the whole room with his presence, he bowed over her hand, and, at her request, pulled up a chair close beside her. He looked steadily into her eyes, asking how she was after her ordeal.

Quietly, Julia explained the events of that night.

'I am fully recovered now. It was terrible at the time, but now,' she shuddered as the memories flooded back, 'I try not to think of it.'

He leant down absentmindedly to pat Flush who had moved between them. Stephen Wareham's eyes were still fixed on her intently and she couldn't help but notice how their colour seemed to change with his mood. Normally blue, today they seemed so dark and intense.

'Very wise. Talbot is under arrest plus a lot of others. As you know, Gerald Hamilton and two others were killed in the skirmish and one of the dragoons was badly injured, but thankfully, you have escaped unharmed. One piece of news that I feel will not upset you is that a body washed ashore at Hasting and was positively identified as Wyatt.'

Julia gave a gasp of surprise and immediately felt guilty for feeling such relief. The image of Wyatt as she had last seen him in the church when he had kicked her so brutally, made her shudder.

The lieutenant suddenly smiled, and from a grim and rather earnest young man, the smile lit up his whole face, making him suddenly most attractive. It was a side Julia had never seen before.

'It would appear he drowned trying to reach the ship to get away to France or the Channel Islands. His body bore no other marks. Naturally, everyone arrested is putting all the blame on Hamilton and your late great uncle as the ringleaders in the smuggling trade in this district.'

He broke off here and looked at her again, in such a manner that Julia could feel the colour rising in her cheeks.

'You said in your letter that you had some news that would be of interest to me?'

Once again she was permitted to see the smile that illuminated his face.

'Indeed I do. Without a doubt, Talbot was the instigator and leader of the smuggling ring. From a good northern family, the Talbots lost most of their fortune and some lost their heads in backing the Stuart cause in fifteen hundred and forty five. The family was impoverished.

'Talbot entered the church, but harboured a deep-seated grudge against the Hanoverians and their governments for the persecution he believed his family had suffered. The understanding is that Talbot was leaving for Italy and taking his not unsubstantial fortune with him.'

'But what of his wife?' Julia was horrified.

'It is doubtful if she knew anything at all of her husband's involvement. She is staying with her relations and is in a state of shock and prostrate with grief. It is said he only married her because of her dowry which has all gone now. There were no children, and, according to Mrs Martin, she was always frightened of him. He certainly had no intention of taking her with him when he left, which was what he was about to do.'

His face was sombre as he added, 'Talbot was the man who was responsible for the murder of John Findlay, my revenue officer last November when there was a big run. Two of the smugglers have sworn under oath that it was him and I am sure we will get a confession. The crypt of the church was where they stored most of their loot, as we discovered after a thorough search.'

Julia shivered. She caught something in Stephen's expression. 'There is more?'

'It concerns your great uncle, Mr Farraday.'

Julia's heart sank, and it must have been reflected in her face for impulsively, he reached out and took her hand.

'Your great uncle, Miss Farraday... Oh, that does sound so formal and we have become friends have we not? May I call you Julia?'

Aware of her hand still in his firm clasp, she faintly nodded her assent.

Smiling even more broadly, he continued. 'And you must call me, Stephen. Will you do that?'

Again the lady agreed.

In a low voice and after a quick glance at the door, he went on.

'Your great uncle, Mr Farraday, was a friend to the service. He gave us much information about the smuggling activities here. Naturally, discretion was called for. It had to appear that he disliked us, and try to keep up the pretence that this was a safe house for them. That's why from time to time, they would store some contraband here or make use of the carriage and horses as they are apt to do with anyone hereabouts.'

His face was serious again, but no less attractive for that. The pressure from his hand to her own intensified.

'He had warned us about Gerald Hamilton and of course we all knew about Wyatt, though your great uncle tried to keep him on a steady path. But I believe that Mr Farraday's death was no accident and that Wyatt did, in fact, murder him. Your great uncle had found out that it was none other than the Reverend Mr Talbot who was in league with Hamilton. That was why Wyatt silenced him, but unknown to him, the information had already come through.'

Here he stopped to see how she was digesting this piece of news. Julia found herself struggling with conflicting emotions. Gratitude, that her great uncle was not a smuggler but an honest law abiding man, and revulsion, to think that a bully like Wyatt could ruthlessly kill an old man, who, if the story Gerald told her was true, could have been his own father!

'Don't worry, we'll get to the truth.' He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

'But Gerald told me that he and my great uncle were in a business venture several years ago, which included smuggling contraband.'

'Do you believe that now?'

'I simply don't know what to believe.'

Stephen leant forward earnestly, his eyes fixed on hers.

'Julia, Gerald Hamilton lied. Mr Farraday did entice him to think he could be interested in forming a partnership with him, but that was as far as it went. That information was passed on to us. Hamilton knew that with your great uncle dead, there was no way you could possibly find out the truth. Did you find any papers or documents to link Mr Farraday in the ownership of any ship or in any other connection with Gerald Hamilton? Of course not because it never existed, and he knew he was safe as you could never prove it.'

Julia shook her head slowly.

'You see, it was just his word. There was no way you could prove that what he was telling you was lies, and all he wanted to do was incriminate Mr Farraday and use it for his own ends, to draw you to him.'

He looked directly at her said, 'There is more regarding Gerald Hamilton.'

Julia knew what was coming.

'Mr Farraday had some information that Hamilton was a Bonapartist sympathiser.'

Julia hoped she looked suitably shocked.

'It was a bond he shared with Talbot whose family and background had all been with the Stuarts, and, as I said before, loathed the Hanoverians and their Government. Hamilton was an ardent Bonapartist supporter who had no time for the present regime in France. The information received was that the person who was smuggled ashore here, when Mr Farraday's carriage was taken, was a certain Colonel Jean-François Dupré, a former friend of Hamilton's when he was in Madras, and an instigator in a plot to overthrow King Louis XVIII.'

'Has he been taken by the authorities?'

'No. He has pleaded for sanctuary and there are many in powerful places prepared to intervene on his behalf. Besides, he has denied all knowledge of a plot, even though we do have our sources. Dupré is under constant surveillance and who knows what yet may eventuate.'

He smiled reassuringly at her.

Reluctantly, Julia could only agree that what he said made perfect sense. A sudden thought struck her and she twisted the amethyst ring.

'Stephen, will I have to give evidence about that night?'

'The magistrates will want a written report and that should be sufficient.'

He was very close to her and she could see the faint stubble of his beard and the way in which his brown hair curled slightly at the ends.

Shaking herself from her reverie, she smiled and said, 'Thank you, Stephen. You don't know what a load you have lifted from my mind with this news.'

He rose, still holding her hand, and smiling down at her murmured, 'I am more than pleased to have been of assistance and to be able to reassure you regarding all that has happened here. I trust that I may call again?'

Squeezing her hand tenderly, he paused for a moment before asking. 'Perhaps I may be permitted to escort you out riding?'

Looking into his eyes she smiled and nodded.

'Yes, I would like that very much.'

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it, never removing his eyes from her own and Julia felt a tremor of pleasure. He did not have the handsome face of Philip or the dashing volatility of Gerald, but there was solid strength there, dependable, enduring. Julia felt suddenly, wildly happy.

'Until tomorrow then. At three o'clock?' His eyes were full of promise.

Julia smiled back. 'Tomorrow will be perfect.'

oOo

A Smuggler's Song

by Rudyard Kipling

If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse's feet

Don't go drawing back the blind or looking in the street

Them that asks no questions, isn't told no lies

Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by!

Five and twenty ponies, trotting through the dark

Brandy for the Parson, 'Baccy for the Clerk

Laces for a lady, Letters for a spy

And watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump, if you chance to find

Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy wine

Don't you shout to come and look, nor use 'em for your play

Put the brishwood back again and they'll be gone next day.

If you see a stable door, setting open wide

If you see a tired horse lying down inside

If your mother mends a cloak, cut about and tore

If the linings wet and warm, don't you ask no more!

If you meet King George's men, dressed in blue and red

You be careful what you say and mindful what is said

If they call you 'pretty maid' and chuck you 'neath the chin

Don't you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one's been.

Knocks and footsteps round the house, whistles after dark

You've no call for running out, till the house-dogs bark

Trusty's here and Pincher's here, and see how dumb they lie

They don't fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by!

If you do as you've been told, 'likely there's a chance,

You'll be given a dainty doll, all the way from France

With a cap of Vinciennes, and a velvet hood,

A present from the Gentlemen, along o' being good.

Five and twenty ponies, trotting through the dark

Brandy for the Parson, Baccy for the Clerk

Laces for a lady, Letters for a spy

Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by!

## Bibliography

Grant, Neil. (1978). Smugglers. Kestrel Books, Penguin.

Hibbert, Christopher, (1998). George 111. London: Viking.

Kiste der van, John. (2004). George 111's Children, Glous: Sutton Publishing.

Marples, Morris. (1969). Six Royal Sisters. London: Michael Joseph.

Quinn, Tom (1999). Smugglers Tales, Newton Abbott: David Charles.

Watkins, Susan. (1990). Jane Austen's Town and Country Style. London: Thames and Hudson.

Waugh, Mary. (1995). Smuggling in Kent and Sussex, 1700 to 1840. Newbury, Berkshire: Countryside Books.

The lines of poetry at the commencement of each chapter are extracts from A Smuggler's Song by Rudyard Kipling.

From inquiries made by the writer and to the best of his knowledge and the publisher's knowledge, any copyright or other rights applying to the poem, A Smuggler's Song, by Rudyard Kipling, expired in January, 2007.

If you enjoyed this book, try the next in the series – Shadows of Doubt, which continues Julia's adventures. Available as an ebook or in print. www.letsbuybooks.co.nz

You might also enjoy The Spanish Woman by Evan Andrew – a lively tale of a Spanish woman taken by Turkish pirates who makes a new life for herself among her captors.
