Page 55 of Nature of the Crime
“We do,” Lieutenant Edmunds said as he joined them. “Any information you have on where he might be found could help save your daughter, as well as another woman we believe he has, the Dowager Duchess of Fournier.”
Ethan grimaced. “The lady accused of those murders?”
“She has not murdered anyone,” Hugh said, then with more patience, “but yes. My suspicion is that he’s taken them to one of the smugglers’ caves that we’ve heard about.”
Edmunds sent him another skeptical glance, but Hugh ignored it. He knew when to trust his instinct, and right then, it was screaming at him.
Mr. Leeds hung his head and tore off his hat. He raked dirty, calloused fingers through his hair. “It’s not good. If it’s this Sin bloke, he’s tied into the doxy traders.”
The man did not need to explain what that meant. Another surge of panic flooded Hugh’s chest and stomach. “Do you know where these caves are?”
“Up and down the coast. I’ve spotted a few, but mind you, I’ve never gone in. Stay as far from them as I can,” Mr. Leeds replied.
“There’s one near Half Moon Beach,” Ethan said. “It isn’t far from the harbor.”
Hugh reached for his greatcoat and hat. “We’ll need a boat.” He was finished waiting for Edmunds to agree with him. It seemed the lieutenant knew it too. He sighed and reluctantly nodded.
“Very well. But our chances of finding anything past dark are almost nil.”
“I’ve got a hooker I pilot for our fish stall,” Mr. Leeds said.
Hugh took the short hall back to the kitchen, where Thornton and Sir were standing watch over a sniffling Mrs. Plimpton. Hugh beckoned them to the entrance with a jerk of his chin.
“I prodded her cranium several times,” Thornton said softly. “No trace of injury. Truly, the least she could have done was thump her own head to make it look real.”
“Lazy of her,” Sir put in.
“She’s only trying to buy St. John time,” Hugh said, his nerves on fire. “We’re leaving. Tell me you don’t suffer from sea sickness or oppose the smell of fish.”
Thornton blinked and frowned. “Of course, I oppose the smell of fish. Who doesn’t?”
“I turn green on the water, Lord Hugh,” Sir said, already grimacing.
“Then you stay here and keep an eye on Mrs. Plimpton. Don’t let her out of your sight. Carrigan should be sobering up soon.” Greer, who’d only taken a few sips of the laced tea, already had, and was now tending to the driver.
Hugh started back for the foyer but paused. Sir had been injured at the hands of a woman before. “Sir don’t forget—she may be female, but she could still be dangerous. Watch yourself.”
“You think I’m gonna let another lady stick me in the ribs again, Lord Hugh?Pish.”
He clapped his hand on the boy’s shoulder, and then he and Thornton joined with the others, already heading out throughthe door, into the darkening street. Edmunds’s carriage ferried them to the harbor, where Mr. Leeds led them to his fishing boat, which Ethan said was called theSea Wolf. The two fishermen prepared the small hooker for sail with efficiency and haste, and they were soon plying the harbor waters.
Evening was quickly settling in. They had little time before all visibility would be lost. Already the white chalk cliffs appeared charcoal gray.
“Winds are in our favor!” Mr. Leeds shouted from the helm. Indeed, they were building as the night came on. The sails filled and with Becky’s father and brother’s guiding hands, theSea Wolfcharged south along the coast.
“That’s Half Moon Beach over there,” Ethan said, grabbing a rigging line next to Hugh, where he stood gripping the rail, his eyes peeled. The young man pointed toward a sliver of a beach, and Hugh’s skin tightened with gooseflesh.
Thornton joined them, squinting as he peered at the shoreline. “Is that a horse and cart?”
“St. John must have launched from there,” Hugh said. A spate of triumph quickly drowned under more worry. Along the coastline, the cliffs were not only jagged, but they also undulated like ribbon, forming coves and outcroppings in succession. And in this poor light, Edmunds had been correct: spotting any small cave opening would be next to impossible.
“Can we get any closer?” Hugh called to Mr. Leeds.
“Not without strandin’ on the rocks,” he replied. No matter how frustrated Hugh was, he knew better than to push the man to do what he thought unwise.
A sharp whistle sounded from the bow of the small ship, near a heap of traps and buoys. Despite the fading light, Edmunds’s red uniform still stood out vividly. He pointed due south. “A small vessel!”
Hugh and Thornton stormed to the bow, and there, they saw what the lieutenant had: far ahead, a boat about a quarter of the size of the hooker, plying the choppy water. It disappeared from view, then emerged again as it rode a swell. From what Hugh could make out, there were two people within the boat, though very little else was detectable.
