Captain Jack's Woman by Stephanie Laurens Read Free Book Online

had refused the run. Why, she didn’t know—which was the root cause of her nervousness.
    Everything, however, was going smoothly. The night was dark, the sky deepest purple. Beneath her, Delia peacefully cropped, undisturbed by an owl hooting in the trees behind them.
    Watching the orderly way the men swiftly unloaded the boats, Kit smiled. They were not unintelligent, just unimaginative. Once she showed them a better way of doing things, they caught on quickly.
    Suddenly, Delia’s head came up, ears pricked, muscles tensing. Kit strained her senses to catch what had disturbed the mare. Nothing. Then, far to the left, another owl hooted. Delia sidled. Kit stared at the great black head. Not an owl? She didn’t wait for confirmation. Pulling Delia around, she set the mare onto the path down to the sands.
     
    In the trees on the cliff top, two riders met a third.
    “Spotted them,” Matthew murmured, as Jack and George came up, walking their horses over the thinly grassed ground. He pointed to where ten ponies were being loaded with the consignment of lace they’d refused. As they looked, a mounted figure all in black broke from the shadow of the cliff and raced across the sands. “Gripes,” muttered Matthew. “What’s that?”
    “A lookout we’ve alerted,” came George’s laconic answer.
    “But where did a smuggler get a horse like that?” Jack watched as horse and rider flew toward the boats, a single entity in effortless motion. “This gang has signed up a little unexpected talent.”
    George nodded. “Do we go down now that they know we’re here?”
    Jack grimaced. “Let’s wait. They might think we’re the Revenue.”
    It appeared he was right. The rider reached the group on the sands. Immediately, their pace increased. Within minutes, the boats pulled out to sea. The rider backed from the ponies as the men tugged straps and girths tight. The black horse danced; the rider scanned the cliffs. He did not look directly their way.
    Squinting, George whispered: “The horse—is it all black?”
    Jack nodded. “Looks like it.” He took up his reins. “They’re heading in. Let’s follow. I’ve a desire to see where they’re stashing their goods.”
    Kit couldn’t get rid of the feeling of being watched. Like Delia, her nerves were at full stretch. She hadn’t explained to Noah why she came bolting out of the dark, urging him on. She’d just issued a warning: “There’s someone out there. I didn’t wait to find out who. Let’s get going.”
    Five minutes later, she and Delia gained the cliff top. She waited until Noah, walking beside the lead pony, crested the cliff, then leaned down to say: “Go east by Cranmer woods, then cut back to the quarries. I’ll scout around to make sure we’re not followed.”
    She wheeled Delia and made off into the surrounding trees. For the next hour, she tracked her own men, sweeping in arcs across their trail. Time and again, Delia skittered. And every time, Kit felt the hair on her nape lift.
    In the end, she realized it was she, the rider, the unknowns were tracking. Abruptly, Kit drew rein. Her followers were mounted, else they wouldn’t have kept up thus far. They weren’t trying to catch them but were following them to their hideout. But they were on Cranmer land and none knew that better than she. Her men would soon be turning north toward the quarries. She, with her unwelcome escort, would continue east.
    Kit patted Delia’s glossy black neck. “We’ll have a run soon, my lady. But first let’s do a little deceiving.”
     
    They were nearing the village of Great Bircham when Jack realized they’d lost the pack train. He reined in on a crest overlooking a moonlit valley. Somewhere ahead, the rider still ranged. “Damn! He’s moving too fast to be following ponies. We’ve been had.”
    George stopped beside him. “Maybe the ponies were faster through the woods. The rider went slow there.”
    Jack shook his head emphatically. Then, as if to