Oliver harrumphed. “It would have been more exciting if we had caught them.”
As they continued to walk down the beach, they grew quiet, retreating to their own thoughts. Oliver knew that he had looked like a fool today, but he refused to sit idly by and play the part.
Chapter Sixteen
“The barrels were gone?” Emmeline asked as she sat on the chair in her bedchamber.
Oliver nodded. “Yes, all of them.”
“How is that possible?”
Leaning his shoulder against the side of the wall, he replied, “Someone must have tipped off the smugglers.”
“But who could that possibly have been?” she asked. “The only person we told about the smugglers was the constable.”
Oliver pressed his lips together, then said, “I am under the impression that the constable betrayed us.”
“Truly?”
“He delayed our departure to the beach by an hour, giving him plenty of time to cart those barrels away,” he explained. “Furthermore, he could sell the smuggled goods in his mercantile.”
“I hadn’t considered that.”
“I believe it is time for me to go speak to him again.”
Rising, Emmeline asked, “For what purpose?”
“I am going to ask if he is involved with smuggling.”
“And you believe he will just come out and admit to that?”
A dangerous gleam came into Oliver’s eyes as he replied, “If I ask nicely, he will.”
“Perhaps we should just report our suspicions to the magistrate and allow him to handle the investigation.”
Oliver shook his head. “The traveling judge only comes through the village every few months,” he shared. “Besides, I have no doubt I can handle the constable.”
“He is rather intimidating.”
“To some, but I am not easily intimidated.”
Emmeline frowned. “I am not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?”
“No,” he replied, smiling, “but it is nice of you to fuss over me.”
“You are incredibly stubborn,” she said. “It is quite vexing.”
Straightening from the wall, Oliver remarked, “You need not worry about me.”
“How can I not?” she asked. “You are my husband.”
“I can assure you that I have been in much more harrowing situations than this one,” he said.
She eyed him curiously. “How is that even possible?”
Oliver opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, and she found herself curious about what he had intended to say. Finally, he spoke. “It matters not.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” he asked.
“For a brief moment, you thought about letting me in, but you changed your mind,” she remarked. “Why is that?”
“Because I am trying to keep you safe.”
“From what?”
Oliver’s gaze grew remorseful as he replied, “I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”
“Even after everything we have been through, you still don’t trust me?” Emmeline asked as she tried to keep the hurt out of her voice.
“It isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?”
“As I’ve said, on multiple occasions, I am trying to keep you safe.”
Tossing up her hands, she asked, “From what?”
“From everything!” he exclaimed as he took a commanding step towards her. “I don’t want you to become tainted by the evils of the world.”
She tilted her chin stubbornly. “Then you have underestimated me.”
Oliver huffed. “I don’t understand why you aren’t satisfied with me and what I have given you.”
“I want the real you,” she implored, walking closer to him. “You have kept part of yourself hidden from me.”
“It is not a part of me that I share with very many people.”
“Can I not be one of them?” she asked hopefully as she placed a hand over his heart.
Oliver glanced down at her hand before saying, “You are asking too much of me.”
“Am I?” she breathed.
Reaching up, Oliver took her hand and lowered it to his side. “What if you don’t like what you see?”
“That is impossible.”
“Why is that?” he asked, his eyes imploring hers.
“Because it is you,” she replied simply.
Oliver slowly released her hand and said, “I shall have to think on it.”
“I understand.”
He took a step back. “I will go speak to the constable, and I shall return before supper.”
“I still believe this to be a foolhardy idea.”
“Duly noted.”
“But it still won’t change your mind?”
“No.”
She sighed. “Then go, but you’d better not get yourself killed.”
“Now it is you who is vastly underestimating me.”
Emmeline watched her husband depart from the room and hoped, not for the first time, that Oliver would start to confide in her. What is holding him back, she wondered. She returned to her seat and picked up the book she had been reading.
A short time later, a knock came at the door.
“Enter,” she ordered.
Mary stepped into the room with a concerned look on her face.
“Whatever is wrong?” Emmeline asked.
“Lord Taylor is in the drawing room, and he has requested to speak to you,” Mary said.
Emmeline stared back in disbelief. “My uncle is here?”
“He is.”
“Will you inform him that I will be down shortly?” she asked.
“As you wish.” Mary turned to leave but stopped. “Would you like me to accompany you?”
“I don’t believe that to be necessary.”
Mary tipped her head. “I wish you luck, milady.”
“I knew that this day would come,” she admitted, rising. “I just wish that it hadn’t arrived so quickly.”
Once her lady’s maid had left to do her bidding, Emmeline walked over to the dressing table and smoothed out her pale blue gown.
How she wished that Oliver was with her. She felt as if she could do anything with him by her side.
Emmeline exited her bedchamber and walked down the hall with dread in each step. She knew this was going to be a most unpleasant conversation.
As she passed through the entry hall, she stopped outside of the drawing room and peered in. She saw her uncle standing next to the fireplace with a drink in his hand. He didn’t appear agitated, so that bode well for her.
She walked into the room and greeted him politely. “Good afternoon, Uncle.”
His eyes perused the length of her. “You are looking well, Emmeline.”
“Thank you.”
Her uncle’s eyes left hers and scanned the drawing room. “I see that you found Lockhart Manor.”
“I did.”
“May I ask how you
