Kasey Michaels - A Gentleman By Any Other Name

Chance smiled. “I knew you’d have questions, but I hadn’t considered that one. But fair enough. Billy is my coachman because I choose that he be my coachman—and probably because he believes his life’s work is to protect me, from only God knows what.”

“He still walks as if he’s on a rolling deck,” Julia said, hoping to ease the tension that seemed to be increasing between them, a tension that had little to do with the questions in her head or the growing fear in her heart.

“He does that, doesn’t he?” Chance said, smiling. “Jacko was also a sailor, as you already guessed. Ainsley was a sailor. Most anyone you encounter here at Becket Hall might have gone to sea at some time. After all, we lived on an island. But that’s all it is, Julia. When we left the islands and came here, everyone gave up the sea. They gave up anything to do with the sea. Do you understand me?”

“You’re telling me that no one at Becket Hall is associated with the smugglers or even knows or cares about them. I understand.” She bit her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked at him, as everything seemed to fall into place for her, the pieces of the puzzle now all fitting together tightly, showing her a picture she’d rather not see. Did he think her a fool? “They know you are a part of the War Office.”

“Yes, they do,” Chance said, his expression going dark, unreadable. “And the war is on the continent, not here in Romney Marsh.”

Why did she keep pushing at him? But she had to know. “True enough. But the Owlers are here, and they trade with the enemy. Did you really bring Alice to Becket Hall because you believe she should be here or are you using your own daughter as an excuse to spy on the smugglers for the king?”

“One does not necessarily make the other true. I had only planned to bring Alice home. And, my dear, as it stands, I don’t have to justify my actions to you.”

“No, you don’t. But please don’t dismiss me as some foolish London society miss who has no notion of what can happen here. Do you know the history of the Hawkhurst Gang? You made mention of my birthplace, but I doubt you know all that I know. The worst of it happened a long time ago, but the stories still are told and retold in Hawkhurst.”

“I only know that some five or six men were hanged in chains for murdering a king’s officer, their bodies strung up along the roadway for all to see. But that was—what?—sixty years ago?”

Julia nodded her agreement. “They butchered one of their own at the same time, a man who was going to give the king’s testimony against the gang. The gang had grown too large, too powerful. Smuggling isn’t only a dangerous but necessary occupation for desperate people wishing to feed their families. Many people became very rich, both here and in London.”

“The government destroyed the Hawkhurst Gang, and many more like them. There are better patrols now, Julia, more troops assigned to capture smugglers. The Crown has the situation under control—or will very soon. The war and the shortages war causes have simply stirred things up for a while, that’s all.”

Julia wasn’t convinced and was far from satisfied with his reasoning. Hadn’t she only a fortnight ago drunk the last of the contraband tea left at the church just days after her father’s funeral? She had to make him understand.

“The Hawkhurst Gang thought nothing of murdering people who got in their way, people who saw too much, said too much. People like Dickie and Johnnie. People like us, who have stumbled over what they’d done. And from what Dickie said, it would seem there are more large gangs out there now who could be very much like the Hawkhurst Gang. This Black Ghost, for one.”

Chance felt a tic beginning in his left cheek. “You never heard that name, Julia. Never. Never so much as think it again. And I won’t keep you here if you’re going to worry yourself to death. I can send you back to London tomorrow morning, if that’s what you want.”

Julia shook her head, feeling suddenly stubborn. “Not unless Alice travels with me.”

Chance cursed under his breath as he stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Do you honestly think I would let Alice come to any harm? This is my family, Julia. It may not seem so to you so far, but they would kill for me, and I would kill for them. Any one of them. And I would never harm them. Never. Jacko and Billy? I consider them family, as well. Everyone at Becket Hall is family. No matter how stupidly they—”

Julia watched as Chance brought himself back under control. She longed to ask the real question: did he think members of his own family had joined the smugglers? Because she’d certainly gotten that impression through his few terse comments to her in the coach after they’d found the boys.

And yet, was that so terrible? Her own father allowed contraband to be stored in his church before the smugglers could move it inland. Everyone in Romney Marsh and other coastal areas, in some way, large or small, was involved with the smugglers, knew some of the smugglers, benefited from the goods that were left as payment for the use of an outbuilding or the loan of a horse. Her best gown, the yellow silk, had been fashioned from a bolt of cloth left for her at the vicarage one night.

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