Oswald shook his head, his hooded eyes glowering, and turned to go.

"Very well, stay here. What shall I tell William, when he asks why you did not come?"

"Tell him...tell him..." Hope's words died away. Oswald shook his head in disgust and made to go. Hope did nothing to stop him, watching as he strode off down the path and then, as if waking from a dream, she shouted for him to wait.

Huntley whistled as the horse trotted homeward-bound along the country lanes. He felt liberated, ready for a fresh start; he had commissioned Hope's ring, the smugglers were on retreat and Bennett had accepted his apology. For so long, he'd struggled to right the world's wrongs while there was work to be done at The Grange. Now his challenges were closer to home. He would work to improve crops and make the tenants more secure. While he'd been ill, Huntley had read of farming innovations, of revolutionary techniques for increasing yield, so people didn't face the choice between smuggling or starvation. Of course Charles, as heir, would need to be consulted, but his elder brother showed precious little interest for anything other than the ton.

The traces jingled as the mare turned into the long drive approaching the main house. Huntley slackened the ribbons, letting the horse lead the way. It was as they rounded the final bend that Huntley saw a scuffle taking place on the steps of the portico.

Puzzled, Huntley guided the gig to the main entrance. He climbed down, rubbed his aching leg and threw the reins to the gardener's lad. On the steps, Jenkins was remonstrating with a young man. The lad was dressed in working clothes with heavy boots and a thick, oiled-wool jumper. His complexion was coa.r.s.e and weather-beaten, and brown hair bleached by the sun. There was a familiarity about him that jarred with Huntley. He knew him, but how?

As Jenkins had the lad by the scruff, propelling him down the steps, as the lad called out Hope's name. As he got closer Huntley recognised him, Thomas Tyler, as Hope's stepbrother.

"My apologies, Captain," Out of breath, Jenkins bowed. "But this fellow insisted on seeing you. When I said you were out, he asked for Miss Tyler. He wouldn't take no for an answer, so I was 'inviting' him to leave."

"That's quite alright, Jenkins. You can let him go."

"Captain Huntley!" The lad's eyes lit up. "I'm so glad you're here..."

"Young Mr. Thomas Tyler, unless I'm much mistaken. Come to ask about your sister after all this time? Well, I can a.s.sure you she is in robust good health." Huntley made to walk past him.

"Please, sir, listen. It's Hope I came to talk to you about."

"That's enough." Jenkins s.n.a.t.c.hed at Thomas's arm, but the lad stood his ground.

"Captain, you are in danger."

Huntley sighed. "What are you talking about? Now be still, and I'll ask Jenkins here to release you."Thomas immediately stilled. His instant response made Huntley more uneasy than any amount of shouting. There was a look of desperation in the boy's eyes which filled Huntley with foreboding. Why call now, after all this time, and then make such a commotion?

"Now, Mr Tyler. You have one minute to state your business before I ask you to leave."

Wild-eyed, Tom glanced at Jenkins, who at a nod from Huntley, released his arm.

Thomas sucked in a deep breath. "Hope is in danger."

"Go on."

"Hope is in danger."

"Yes, I heard that. But why should I believe you?"

Thomas Tyler rubbed the wrist. "The Excise men broke up the smuggling ring-and the main investor is furious. He wants revenge and thinks hurting Hope will get it."

A pulse beat slow and hard in Huntley's throat. This was an echo of his earlier conversation with Bennett. His mind raced. "How do you know this?"

Thomas continued. "One of Choake's thugs told Pa Hope was hurt bad and were asking for him. Only Pa smelt a rat and refused to go with him, and then the man went mad and beat Pa."

Huntley's blood ran cold. "One thing at a time. Who is this Choake?"

"It's Choake's money behind the ring."

"And when did this happen?"

"Yesterday evening. I were night fishing and came back this morning to find Pa right poorly."

A pulse throbbed at the base of Huntley's throat. "And why is Miss Tyler in danger?"

"Because Pa was a means of getting to her. She's next."

Huntley shook his head, exasperated. "How do you know that?"

"Cos when he were beating Pa, the man raged about Choake getting revenge for his dead brother. The man shot by you, Captain Huntley."

"I still don't see..."

"And that he'd kill anyone that betrayed the smugglers."

"But Hope didn't-just the opposite in fact."

"Well, that's not what he believes, sir. As far as he's concerned, she's a traitor."

Huntley suppressed a shiver. "It sounds like this Choake is the man Bennett is after. What more do you know?"

Thomas met his eye. "Not much, he's well-off and lives on the mainland, has a strange name he has, Oswald Choake."

A fist squeezed all the blood from Huntley's heart.

"Say that again."

"Oswald Choake."

Huntley skin crawled.

"What does this man look like?"

"A gent-wealthy, above-average height, brown hair and an arrogant way about him-oh, and a long, roman nose."

"Oswald!" He whispered in dread. With a calmness he did not feel he turned to the footman. "Jenkins, kindly tell me, where is Miss Tyler?"

"Went out to walk the dog, Captain." Jenkins looked a little queasy. "Come to think of it, she's a little late back. Usually back an hour or so by now..."

All the fires of h.e.l.l started to burn in Huntley's blood. "Jenkins, get the maid to check Miss Tyler hasn't returned unannounced. Tyler, come with me."

Chapter Eighteen.

"This way." Without slowing, Oswald shouted over his shoulder. Even with Jasper under his arm, Oswald's pace didn't falter and Hope had to run to catch up.

"Wait a moment." Hope panted. "Where are we heading?"

"The cove." Oswald grunted, without slackening his stride. "I can trust you not to betray free traders?"

Hope swallowed hard. "Of course."

"Then I can tell you. I know your father because he works for me-as indeed you used to."

"I don't understand."

"Talk later. Keep up or we'll be too late."

Oswald took off again, his coattails flapping. Once more Hope set off behind him. As the track narrowed and became less clear, branches blocked the way and brambles dragged at her skirt. Oswald was forced to slow to clear a path. Hope tipped her head and heard the distant shush of the sea.

"Are you sure this is the way?" Hope grew uneasy.

"Here or hereabouts."

"Perhaps we should go back?"

"We've not strayed far. We'll keep going and rejoin the track."

"Wouldn't it be easier to retrace our steps?"

"No!" His vehemence startled her. "Take the d.a.m.ned dog. It's no wonder I got distracted, carting this mutt around." He thrust Jasper at her.

Her heart thudded, and not from exertion. Jasper whimpered and she smoothed his head to rea.s.sure him.

"We haven't time for that. Come." There was thinly disguised menace in his tone. "If we are to reach your father in time."

Hope quailed inwardly, as slowly she followed. "You were there when he fell?"

Oswald's shoulders tensed. "Yes. On shingle, hit his head on the boat."

Slow seconds ticked by. "So he can't walk?"

"No."

"Then we should go back and get a boat. Approach the bay by sea. It will be difficult to bring him back up the steep woodland path."

"You misunderstand," Oswald looked crazed, "I have no wish to alarm you but your father is fighting for life. Delay is not advisable."

With every pa.s.sing second, doubt grew. Oswald moved closer to take her arm, but Hope stepped back out of reach.

"Best you lead on."

"Very well."

With a frown Oswald set off again, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting her to flee. Hope dragged her feet, deliberately letting her skirts tangle in the briars, so she had to stop to free herself, anything -but delay reaching the beach. Her mind raced. Surely Oswald's erratic behavior was because he didn't want the smuggling discovered?

"Ouch!" Hope squealed, and bent to rub her leg. "Oh, dear." She tried to hobble forward, but winced.

"What's the matter now?"

"Twisted my ankle."

"Take my arm."

"No thank you. I just need to sit for a while."

Exasperation flashed across his face.

"We haven't the time."

"And I tell you, I can't go on."

As she made to lower herself to the ground, Oswald grabbed her arm. Jasper stiffened, prowling forward, his hackles raised.

"Get out of my way, dog."

A low rumbling growl issued from his tiny frame.

"Jasper doesn't like you touching me."

"We'll soon see about that." Before she knew what he was about, Oswald swung his leg and kicked Jasper hard across the hips. The dog yelped pitifully. "Be off, runt." Oswald swung for another kick again but Jasper slunk out of range. "Now get up, before I kick you too."

Fuelled by rage, Hope stood and glared at him. "There was no need to hurt the dog."

"That's the least of your problems. Now-come." With her elbow painfully squeezed in his hand he shoved her forward. She glanced around, fearful if Jasper was seriously hurt, but to her relief, the dog had disappeared.

"No."

Oswald reached into his jacket and pulled out a knife. "Then let me motivate you with this." He grabbed her arm, pressing the tip of the blade against her ribs. "And don't think I wouldn't use it. Walk."

She felt the p.r.i.c.k of the knife against her skin and did his bidding. They walked in silence, Hope in the lead, the blade at her back. The woodland began to thin, hawthorn gave way to horsetails and ferns. Then, over the crest of the next hill, she glimpsed the sea.

Every year after heavy rain, a new part of the hillside crumbled into the sea. Suddenly, the ground shelved away as if they had reached the edge of the world.

"Go on." Oswald nudged her onto a narrow chalk ledge. Heart thumping, she stepped down, to find the track across the cliff-face leading down to the cove. With little choice, Hope started the steep descent to the beach. Where the hillside had crumbled and trees held on by their roots, the rain had washed away what spa.r.s.e covering of soil there was. A path of sorts zigzagged down the cliff face, using the exposed roots as a form of steps. The sea a dizzying distance below. Far below. Hope made out trees which had fallen crashing to the beach below, their trunks now stripped bare and bleached by the pounding tides.

Halfway down, a sea fog rose up to meet them, as if they were descending into cloud. Oswald pinched her arm, pushing her on. She stumbled and clutched wildly for a handhold, landing with a thump on her bottom.

"Ouch."