Her eyes left his, shifting towards the water, and he could see her blinking back tears. He wanted to pull her into his arms, to comfort her, but he knew it wasn’t his place.
They stood in silence for a long moment, and Oliver knew it was time for him to tell his wife that he was leaving soon. He had already come up with a believable lie.
“I wanted to discuss something with you,” he started. “I am going to be leaving—”
Emmeline cut him off as she pointed towards the water. “What is that?”
Oliver turned and saw a barrel floating in the water, the metal bands reflecting off the moonlight. His alert eyes scanned the water, and he saw multiple barrels floating in the small waves.
Smugglers.
He grabbed Emmeline’s hand and led her towards an outcropping. As he ducked behind the rocks, he said in a low, hushed voice, “You need to run back to Lockhart Manor as fast as you can.”
“Why?”
“You must trust me.”
Emmeline tilted her chin stubbornly. “Not until you tell me what is going on.”
Knowing time was of the essence, he quickly explained, “It is common for smugglers to drop the barrels from their ship into the water and let the current bring them to shore. Then, they follow behind in rowboats.”
Oliver slowly raised his head above the rocks, and he could hear the sound of oars slapping against the water before he saw the two rowboats in the distance.
“Blazes,” he muttered.
“What is wrong?”
“If you ran back to Lockhart Manor now, there is a chance that the smugglers will see you,” Oliver said. “We have no choice but to remain where we are.”
He was grateful that he had his muff pistol in his right boot, but he knew it would do little against a band of smugglers. Besides, he had to keep Emmeline safe. He couldn’t very well confront the smugglers without putting her in danger. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew he could do little at the moment except keep an eye on the scene before them.
It felt like hours but was probably only moments before the rowboats came closer to shore. He watched as the smugglers jumped out of the boats and dragged them onto the sand. He counted a total of six men, all dressed in dark clothing.
The men stepped into the water and retrieved the barrels. They tossed them up on their shoulders as if they weighed no more than a bag of feathers and headed towards the cliff. To Oliver’s surprise, they disappeared for a moment and reemerged with empty hands.
The smugglers repeated their actions until eighteen barrels had been removed from the water and stored somewhere along the cliff’s wall. Then, they pushed the rowboats back into the water, disappearing into the night.
Oliver turned towards Emmeline and ordered, “Stay here.” His tone brooked no argument.
She nodded her understanding.
He remained low as he left the safety of the rocks and headed towards where he saw the smugglers disappear near the cliff. As he approached, he saw a small crevice in the cliff’s wall and stepped inside. It was dark and damp, but he could make out the outline of the barrels stacked up against the wall.
He hurried back to Emmeline and shared, “There is a small cave in the cliff’s wall where the smugglers put the barrels.”
“What do we do?” Emmeline asked.
“There is nothing we can do now,” he said. “But tomorrow we will ride into the village and inform the constable of what transpired here.”
Emmeline’s wide eyes watched him, but she remained quiet.
Reaching for her hand, he assured her, “You need not fear for your safety. No harm shall come to you as long as I am here.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Shall we return to the manor?”
Emmeline nodded. “I think that would be for the best.”
Oliver kept hold of her hand as they silently headed towards the path that would take them back to the manor. It wasn’t until they arrived at the main door of the manor that Oliver stopped and spoke up. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “I have never been so afraid.”
“It was just a band of smugglers,” he said, keeping his voice light.
“What if they had seen us?”
“Then I would have had no choice but to fight them off.”
Emmeline frowned. “I am in earnest, Oliver.”
“As am I.”
“What could you have done against a band of smugglers?”
Oliver took his other hand and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “I would do anything to keep you safe, my dear.”
He saw her visibly relax as she stared up at him. “That is kind of you to say.”
“There is nothing kind about it,” he replied. “It is the truth.”
Oliver’s eyes dropped to her lips, and he watched as she parted them in response. That was all the invitation he needed. He leaned closer, but just as his lips were about to brush against hers, the main door opened, causing Emmeline to step back.
“Excuse me, milord,” the butler said as he quickly closed the door.
Oliver stifled his groan at the interruption. He had been so close to kissing his wife again, which was something he had desperately wanted to do since their last kiss.
Emmeline gave him a timid smile. “I should retire for the evening,” she said, avoiding his gaze.
“Would you like me to escort you to your bedchamber?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she replied, “but I thank you for the offer.”
Oliver opened the door for her and stood to the side as she entered, then followed her inside.
“Good night, Wife,” he said.
“Good night, Husband.”
Oliver watched Emmeline as she walked up the stairs and disappeared down the hall, knowing he would miss her dreadfully when he left for the peninsula.
Chapter Fifteen
Emmeline slowed her horse’s gait as the village came into view, and she was pleased to see that Oliver followed suit.
“You ride superbly,” Oliver commented, glancing over at her.
“Thank you,” she replied. “You do, as well.”
Oliver
