"Have you family hereabouts?"

In an instant his demeanor changed. It was like blowing out a candle; all the light left his eyes.

"Alas, recently I lost someone very dear." He lapsed into silence, looking suddenly much older.

"I am so sorry to hear that. If there is anything we can do, just say. Recently, I feared for George's life," she shivered, "and that was bad enough. I commiserate with your loss."

Oswald closed his eyes. "Dear Lady, tis too painful to speak of, but I thank you nonetheless."

An awkward silence fell and witnessing their visitor's genuine distress, Hope's antagonism softened. For a moment Oswald seemed on the brink of tears, and then, with an abrupt movement, he stood.

"If you will excuse me ladies, tis time I was on my way."

"Of course." Both women rose in unison. "Please call again, my door is always open."

"Thank you, Lady Ryevale. Miss Tyler."

Hope shook the proffered hand. She felt ashamed of her earlier hostility and yet as the door closed behind Oswald, she was relieved he'd gone. She sighed. None of this altered the fact she had to tell Lady Ryevale she was leaving and explain why-without letting Her Ladyship dissuade her.

Chapter Seventeen.

The morning after his proposal, Captain Huntley woke with the lark, brimful of energy. Yes, he would wait for Hope's deliberations, but he wasn't going to accept no for an answer, so he rose in chipper mood, with the intention of seeing a jeweller in Boureham about an engagement ring.

It was a pleasant day for a drive following the coastal road, with the sea to his left and the gently rolling hills on his right. The carriage horse was lively, ears p.r.i.c.ked, responding eagerly to Huntley's whip. Driving wasn't so bad, sitting high, overlooking hedgerows into the misty fields beyond. His hopes of riding again grew dimmer by the day and he knew it, really he ought to sell Nero, it wasn't fair to the horse not to be ridden hard-the stable lad did his best but was scared of the beast. Nero, like him, needed action, and only one of them was still up to it. But whereas such a thought would once have pained him, Huntley had changed and accepted the facts for what they were.

Since his proposal, everything had fallen into place. With Hope as his wife, he had a future, with Hope by his side, running the estate. It meant keeping laborers in work and ensuring they had food. It wasn't what he'd dreamed of as a boy, but it was enough for him as a man. And to prove that to Hope, here he was starting to lay the past to rest.

Huntley liked this time of year and it was good to be outdoors even if the wind was getting up. Autumn reminded him of childhood games and chasing his brothers through drifts of fallen leaves. In no time, he'd left Sandehope behind to take the Boureham road. Five miles inland, Boureham was the nearest town. Whereas Sandehope served the sea, fisher folk and the like, it was at Boureham people went to for fancy goods, to visit milliners, drapers, silversmiths and jewellers.

Huntley reached the town in good time. He had a specific ring in mind, an opal set with diamonds-mirroring the colours of the sea, just like Hope's eyes. The jeweler was all unctuous agreement, having just such an opal in stock. He promised to have the ring made up within the week. Finding himself well pleased with the morning's work, Huntley awarded himself lunch at a tavern.

Replete and in a good mood, as Huntley clambered up into the gig and took up the ribbons, he realised he wasn't yet ready to return to the Grange. Leaving the town behind, trotting along the country lanes, he was struck with the idea of visiting the Custom's Office. It was, he decided, time to make his peace with every part of his past.

The Custom's Office was just as he remembered, the leaded windows facing the harbor, watching the comings-and-goings. Huntley drew to a halt outside and somewhat stiffly, climbed down. His injured leg ached and with a motion that was becoming a habit, he rubbed his thigh. He reached up into the gig for his cane, for to start afresh ,which meant admitting he needed to walk with a stick.

He entered the office and Bennett rose and came to greet him.

"Captain." He clasped his hand warmly. "Good to see you, sir."

"And you." His throat closed over.

"Word was you'd never walk again." He nodded to Huntley's cane.

"Trust you to be direct." Huntley grinned , after month's of people's politeness, such bluntness was refreshing. "I may never ride again, but I consider myself lucky to be alive."

"Well, I for one am glad to see you up and about."

"Look, you must be wondering what I'm doing here. The thing is, I wanted to apologise."

"Apologise? What for?"

Huntley took a deep breath. "I was posted here to root out corruption, and when I first arrived I suspected your integrity-which was wrong of me. It would mean a lot if you would accept my apology?"

"That's quite alright, Captain. You were doing your duty."

"Even so, there were better ways of going about it."

Bennett looked thoughtful. "The way I see it, this office had become complacent. You shook us up and that's a good thing."

The men clasped hands. Trying to hide his gratification, Huntley nodded toward the harbor.

"How goes things?"

Bennett beamed. "Thanks to you, the smugglers are having a lean time of it and no mistake."

"Oh?"

"Your raid in the Southwest was the turning point."

"The one where I was injured? Then I'm glad to know some good came of it."

"Aye, that it did. Most of the ringleaders were rounded up and now their lackeys are too afeared of the consequences to risk smuggling."

"That's marvelous news. So the gang's disbanded?"

"Almost. Just the one leader evading justice-dropped out of sight he has. It was his brother you killed that night...."

"Ah."

"So you be careful, Captain, just in case his brother comes looking for you."

"I will. What's the fellow's name? I'll keep my ear to the ground."

"All we know is his surname is Choake. He's a wily character, elusive as sea mist. Any day now I reckon one of his disillusioned lackeys will squawk. I'll send word as soon as we know more."

"Good work. Be sure you do, I'd like to help."

At the same time Captain Huntley was leaving Boureham, back at The Grange Lady Ryevale yawned and announced she was going for a nap. Hope bit her lip, having yet to break the news, but for now the moment was lost and so Hope decided on walking Jasper.

It had become their habit, when Lady Constance took her post-luncheon nap, for Hope to walk the dog. She'd come to look forward to this as a time of solitude and reflection and this walk would be her last along these paths, and she'd best get used to the idea. She decided to refuse George face-to-face. And to refuse his proposal and remain under his roof was untenable, so she would leave.

In a thoughtful mood, Hope whistled for Jasper to keep up. He had charged into a mound of leaves and ran back, tail high as a flag pole. The air was full of autumn smells, of rotting leaves and wood smoke from the gardener's bonfire. A thick mist rose off the damp ground, adding a ghostly quality to the woods.

Hope turned her face to the sky; clouds were building into angry towers, with grey, glowering bases. A gust of wind caught her skirts and she shivered. Best not go too far, it wouldn't do to get caught out in the rain. Oblivious to everything else, Jasper bounded on ahead, his nose close to the earth, picking up the scent of squirrel, then rabbit, switching trails, too excited to stick with one.

Dressed in a nankeen walking dress with matching pelisse, Hope followed their regular route. The woodland grew thicker, a delightful tangle of elm, hawthorn and oak, crisscrossed by paths. Hope reflected in what must have been a magical place to grow up, some many trees to climb, streams to ford and imaginary worlds to conquer. Was this, she wondered, where George's love of justice and righting wrongs had been born? She spotted an old rope hanging from a st.u.r.dy branch. She touched it affectionately, imagining the young Huntley brothers swinging on it, then tumbling off into the mud. A spasm of regret tugged at her heart, that her children would never play here. A deep longing dragged at her stomach, the thought of carrying George's sons, but quickly she quashed the idea and glanced around for Jasper.

"Jasper." She whistled.

But no tan-and-white dog appeared. She peered into the undergrowth and called more loudly. "Jasper. Here boy!"

Taking her time she scanned around, hoping to see his busy tail or lolling pink tongue. Stay calm, she told herself, he won't have gone far.

"Jasper!"

This time she frowned, irritation turning to panic as the dog failed to appear. A rustle in the leaves behind her and she spun around. A figure stepped forward, his face hidden by a large hat.

"This dog is yours?" The man said.

"There you are." She sighed with relief as she spotted the tan-and-white dog wriggling in the man's arms She recognised the voice, a deep fruity baritone, and for no apparent reason, her heart hammered with fear. "Mr. Oswald, is that you?"

He pushed his hat back. "It is indeed. What a fortuitous meeting."

"Mr Oswald, thank you. It seems we are destined to b.u.mp into one another." She wondered at what he was doing in the Grange's woods.

"My pleasure, Miss Tyler, but best you keep that dog on a leash."

"Absolutely." She snipped the lead onto Jasper's collar, who stared up at her with chastened eyes. She patted him and the dog's tail erupted into wags, sweeping the path clear of leaves. She straightened. "Mr Oswald, I thought you were going to the Island"

"Indeed, and that is why I was on my way to The Grange, to seek you out."

"Me?" Alarm rattled through Hope's brain. "I made it plain we have nothing further to discuss."

His long face grew serious as he cleared his throat.

"Alas, this has nothing to do with my offer. I regret Miss Tyler, I am the bearer of bad news."

Her heart skipped a beat. She stared at him. He seemed genuinely concerned, his face pale despite the exertion of the walk.

"Go on."

"Miss Tyler, I wish there was an easy way to tell you this, but your father has been hurt."

Hope struggled to take in the news. "I don't understand? How do you know?"

Oswald took a step back, and gestured to the path from which he had emerged.

"Because he's here, do hurry."

"He's here? On the mainland?" A chord struck with Hope, something didn't add up. She stood her ground.

"Yes, he was coming to see you when he had an accident."

Hope stared at him. "Why? Why would he be coming here? And how do you know?"

There was flicker in Oswald's expression, something she couldn't quite read.

"Miss Tyler, can I trust you?"

"Of course."

"As a smuggler yourself..."

"Not any longer." Then the penny dropped. "He was making a landing in daylight?"

"Everything was carefully planned...until he collapsed."

She faltered, unsure whether to listen to her heart or her head. Something wasn't right, but why would Oswald lie.

"Is father seriously hurt?"

"I wish I could say differently...."

"And his health had improved enough to sail again?"

"He was well at the start of the journey-an accident, you see."

A chill ran through her blood, Oswald had to be lying, her father was a sick man at the best of times.

"What sort of accident?"

Oswald narrowed his eyes. "Slipped and hit his head."

"Oh!" Hope exclaimed, in what she prayed was a convincing manner. "Then I must return Jasper to the house, and summon help."

A shadow pa.s.sed across Oswald's face. "Bring the dog, there's no time to be lost. Your father's life hangs in the balance."

"But..."

"But if we delay it may be too late."

Hope's world spun and yet she held her ground. She only had Oswald's word, and yet what if she was wrong and her father really was dying? Oswald was a gentleman, he had all but asked her to marry him, what possible reason could he have to lie to her. "Tell me again what happened."

Oswald bowed. "Madam, I fear even the slightest delay. It is you he asks for. Please. Come. I shall explain on the way."

Hope quivered with uncertainty. "He's nearby, you say?"

"Yes, on the beach. Please. On my conscience, no more delay, what message do I take him?"

Hope stood paralysed with indecision. Her instincts screamed something was wrong, but if her father's life was in danger....