Smuggler's Kiss (11 page)

‘How well you know me,’ I marvelled, opening my eyes very wide.

‘Indeed,’ agreed Will. ‘Now stop talking nonsense and admire the view with me. Look out, not down. There! You can see the coast of England.’

It was strange the difference it made to look outwards rather than down. I felt no dizziness at all. The craggy coastline was clear and sharp in the bright, early morning light; the sky above it a pale autumn blue.

‘What happens when real winter comes?’ I asked Will. ‘Is it not too cold and stormy to sail?’

‘We do most of our trade through the winter.’

I looked at him, wondering why. His gaze was fixed on the distant shore, his eyes crinkled at the corners against the brightness. He sensed me watching him and looked round, meeting my eyes. ‘There are crops to tend and harvest in summer. Sheep to shear, lambs to birth. There is plenty of work. This is the time of year men are laid off. This is when they need to find other work to support their families. And it’s in the winter weather that everyone wants a drop of good French cognac to keep out the cold.’

‘But what about the winter storms?’ I asked. ‘Aren’t they dangerous?’

‘Of course. But they are dangerous for the Revenue officers as well. The Gentlemen have the best pilots, the best ships, and the best sailors in the channel. So we are far safer than they. There is less risk of being caught. And the long, dark winter nights are our friend. In summer we would be far too visible.’

I nodded, my gaze drawn by the distant coastline, green slopes and varying shades of rocky cliff dappled with patches of pale sunlight and shadow. The land that held my family. I wondered how they were. Were they more comfortable now they had money once more? Had they found somewhere new to live?

‘While we’re up here,’ said Will, ‘I think it’s about time you began learning your knots.’

‘My knots?’

In reply, Will threw me a short length of rope. ‘Make that fast on this spar,’ he told me.

With hands that still shook, I wrapped the rope around the spar and tied it. ‘Like that?’

‘Not like that, no,’ he answered. He reached out and tugged it loose in one swift movement. ‘You see? If we couldn’t tie better knots than that, the whole rigging would fall apart.’ He looped the rope around the spar, twisting it deftly. ‘That’s a proper knot.’

He pulled it loose and knotted it again more slowly. ‘See?’

I had a go and the loop simply fell off. ‘Show it more slowly,’ I asked after another unsuccessful attempt. I couldn’t understand why my hands were so clumsy and unwilling to make the apparently simple moves his made.

Will climbed to stand behind me and took my hands in his, showing me which way to guide the loop, twist it and pull it taut.

‘Now let me try again,’ I asked after a couple of demonstrations. This time I succeeded. ‘There!’ I said triumphantly.

Will moved away, with a smile. ‘That’s a bowline,’ he told me. ‘A simple sailor’s hitch, useful for mooring a dingy, for example.’

I frowned. ‘You mean there are others?’

Will rolled his eyes. ‘Of course there are others. There’s a different knot for every job. I’m still learning them all after two years.’

I felt daunted, but Will laughed at my expression. ‘Master the bowline,’ he said. ‘Then ask Jacob to teach you more. All the men know the knots, but he’s the most patient teacher. And he’s left-handed, like you.’

A bell rang out below. ‘Ah, breakfast!’ exclaimed Will rubbing his hands. ‘Ready to climb back down?’

It was dark when
The Invisible
carved her way silently through the black waters into Poole Harbour. The wind was kind, allowing us to glide behind Brownsea Island. The moon was half hidden behind clouds, showing her partial face only occasionally. The ship was sluggish in the water, groaning with the weight of the ankers and kegs of spirits that had been loaded onto her in France.

‘The island shields us from view of the Revenue, you see,’ said Jacob softly, standing by my side at the rail. ‘They be over that side of the harbour keeping watch. Even if the moon shines full on us, they won’t see us till we leave the far side of the island. We used to unload in the harbours all the time, but the Preventives have got a bit sharper of late. So in the usual way, we keeps to the more remote coves.’

‘But not tonight?’

Jacob smiled his slow smile. ‘Tonight we’re playing with fire.’

The wind spilled out of the sails, making them flap with a crack of canvas. I could see dark shadows scurrying about up in the rigging. I knew one of them was Will, but I couldn’t make out which. I was glad to have the solid deck under my feet. I’d been back up in the rigging since that first time, but I wasn’t comfortable there yet.

There was a sense of suppressed excitement all around me, as the men prepared to unload the contraband. I could tell their nerves thrilled to the danger they were about to face. I found myself picking up on their enthusiasm, tension holding my body as taut as if the customs officers were breathing down my neck.

On the far side of Brownsea, the ship swung in towards land, and hovered there. A tub-boat was lowered as quietly as possible into the water. The creak of the ropes and the splash of the still harbour waters on the hull made the blood race in my veins. I held my breath, but could hear no sound of alarm being raised.

A few ankers of brandy were lowered into the tub-boat and the craft set off with a creak and muted splash of oars. She was soon lost to sight in the darkness. A mist was swirling around us now and I saw the flash of Jacob’s teeth as he grinned. ‘They’ll not see us now,’ he murmured in a satisfied voice.

The tub-boat returned and was tethered behind us, the sails filled with wind again, and
The Invisible
moved further inland, gliding past the tree-shrouded island.

We were out of the lee of the island now. The wind freshened and the mist began to clear. The only sound was the water swishing against the underside of the lugger. ‘We’re goin’ to do it,’ said Jacob. ‘We just need to make the dash across this stretch of open water to Rockley Point. If only this mist would hold.’

But the mist was vanishing by the moment, allowing us to see the twinkling lights at Poole. And if we could see them …

‘Cutter launched!’ the man in the look-out called down.

Jacob frowned heavily. ‘The Preventives are out,’ he growled. ‘They must have spotted us. That’s damned unlucky.’

Every available hand rushed to the sails. I thought we were going to turn about and make our escape back out to the open sea. But I was wrong. Instead, the men were unfurling all the canvas
The Invisible
carried. The ship altered course, sailing closer to the wind. I guessed they were trying to race the cutter. It was a dangerous game, surely?

Our ship quickened her pace, the timbers creaking and the canvas filling. She surged through the still estuary waters. I couldn’t see a thing ahead of us in the darkness, but I was aware both skipper and pilot knew every inch of the huge natural harbour and that the look-outs would be alert and straining their eyes for any danger. When we reached Rockley Point, the moon emerged once more from behind the clouds, allowing us a brief, dazzling glimpse of a narrow channel ahead. My heart skipped a beat. The cutter was pursuing us; did we not run the risk of becoming trapped?

I looked around me, feeling anxious. None of the men looked worried; merely tensed for action. I fidgeted restlessly, wishing I knew something about sailing the ship. I wanted to help, not stand around uselessly.

There was a light thud behind me. I turned to see Will had landed on the deck. His eyes were sparkling, his breathing quick from his descent through the rigging. I realized he was actually
enjoying
the danger. He grinned when he saw me looking at him. ‘We shall see some sport before this night is out,’ he promised.

‘Sport?’ I asked. ‘Are you mad? No, that’s a stupid question. I know full-well you are.’

Will chuckled. The moon slid behind another dark cloud and I couldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘What is the penalty for smuggling?’ I asked, a new fear suddenly gripping me. I was aboard this ship, and I was as guilty as any of the men. ‘Is it a hanging offence?’

‘Don’t sound so frightened,’ said Will, clapping a hand on my shoulder. ‘We won’t swing unless we shoot one of the officers. It’s only imprisonment for smuggling.’

The ship slid into the narrow channel and slowed as we lost the wind. The sound of water under the hull lessened to a whisper. ‘Only imprisonment?’ I repeated. ‘That’s all right then. I’m sure I could accustom myself to prison.’

‘They’ll be hard pressed to find a jury to convict us,’ Will assured me. ‘And the chances of a case going to law are small in any case. The Preventives have to pay legal fees out of their own pocket, which isn’t a plump one. They don’t want to have to do that.’

‘So why bother to chase us?’ I asked, bewildered.

‘Oh, it looks good. They can’t sit on their backsides in the tavern all day. Most often they’ll settle for a share of the cargo or a back-handed payment. But we don’t want to share or pay.’

I felt a measure of relief seeping into me at the thought that nothing very dreadful would happen if we were caught.

‘Of course, you get a few officers who are hell-bent on stamping out the trade, no matter what the cost to them personally,’ added Will cheerfully before he strode aft to consult with the skipper.

The part of me that was a law-abiding citizen found it outrageous that the king’s men took bribes instead of combating crime. But at the same time, I hoped that whoever was chasing us right now was as corrupt as necessary. I had no fancy for a prison cell.

The channel had widened.
The Invisible
heeled over as she turned sharply around a small land mass, huddled low in the water to our right. ‘Otter Island,’ I heard someone mutter nearby. ‘We’ll make it yet.’

The ship slipped behind the island, but not before I saw the nose of a ship emerge from the channel behind us. The Revenue men were hard on our heels.

We made straight for the coast beyond the island. As we approached a high grassy bank, dark shapes rose up out of the gloom and ran forward to catch ropes thrown from
The Invisible.
Our sails were lowered in a rush of canvas and we were drawn sideways to land. The kegs and ankers began to be lowered, even before the ship had been made fast. I could make out urgent, low-voiced exchanges between the smugglers and the landers. My fists were clenched. We were about to be caught red-handed landing contraband and the men on shore would doubtless be taken too.

But the unloading was completed with remarkable swiftness and in near-silence. No sooner was the last keg off the ship than the ropes were flung back aboard and we drifted from the shore.

Our men were scurrying about the rigging and the deck once more, altering the set of the sails, working to turn the ship back the way we had come. Men were also lowering buckets into the sea; I wondered what they could be at. Jacob interrupted my musings without ceremony, pushing a bucket of sea water into my hand. ‘Help scrub the deck,’ he ordered.

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘Because one o’ the barrels leaked and it stinks like a tavern,’ he said as he hurried to the side to lower another bucket. Someone threw me a scrubbing brush and I went across the deck to the side where the kegs had been stacked for unloading. Sure enough there was a strong smell of liquor.

Before I began the work, I looked back at Otter Island, expecting the Revenue cutter to appear behind us at any moment, but she didn’t. I dropped to my knees, slopped some of the water out and began scrubbing. Some of the buckets were being carried down to the hold where there was clearly more cleaning to be done. No sooner was my bucket empty than it was snatched away and another was pushed at me. After three bucketfuls, my back and shoulders were aching. I straightened myself, curious to see what was going on around us.

As I stood up, we glided around the far end of the island and there was the Revenue cutter, dead ahead of us. Her guns had been run out. They were aimed straight at us, the moonlight gleaming starkly on the barrels.

Beside me, Will whistled low. I jumped, having not even realized he was there. ‘Who’d have thought a Philistine could have come up with an ambush like this?’ he said, scrubbing brush in one hand, eyes narrowed to make out the ship in the darkness. ‘They’ll be learning to read and to shoot straight next.’

There was laughter around us, the men unafraid now that our cargo had been offloaded. Nonetheless, we all bent to the scrubbing again. ‘What if they fire?’ I asked Jacob anxiously.

‘Strictly speaking, they ain’t allowed to do that. Not without firing a warning shot first. They’ll be wanting to rummage us, hoping for a share of the cargo, no doubt,’ said Jacob cheerfully as he worked. ‘Well, they’re more than welcome now.’

‘Will,’ said the skipper curtly. ‘They’ll be boarding us.’

‘I know,’ replied Will, and disappeared below. I wondered why but there was no time to ask.

A shout to surrender from the Revenue cutter made the men laugh more. We hauled to and lowered our sails once more and the buckets and brushes were hastily swept from sight. The Revenue came aboard to find every member of the crew standing relaxed and smiling on deck. I saw Will emerge from below at the last minute and slip in amongst the other men. At least I thought it was Will. He was now red-haired and red-bearded and dressed in rough working clothes. A hat was pulled down low over his eyes.