Smuggler's Kiss by Marie-Louise Jensen Read Free Book Online

escapade. They hoped to whip up an audience for the haunting.
    The boat lifted in the waves and then dropped, crunching gently onto sand. Will jumped out into the foam and hauled the boat a little further in. He turned to me. ‘Come on,’ he said impatiently.
    I stood up gingerly, clinging to the edge of the boat, waiting to be helped. Will stood back without offering. Hard-Head Bill was holding the oars and ignoring me.
    Feeling aggrieved, I struggled to get one leg over the edge of the boat, but then pulled it back as a wave washed under it.
    ‘Dear Lord, give me patience,’ exclaimed Will rolling his eyes.
    ‘A gentleman would assist a lady,’ I said crossly.
    ‘You aren’t a lady any more. I’ve told you that already. You’re a crew member and need to learn to behave like one. Now get out of that boat!’
    I struggled out over the side, crying out as the waves washed over my feet, and stumbled up the beach onto the dry sand. Will pushed the boat back out, and then stomped off, leaving me to follow him as best I might. My borrowed, ill-fitting boots were soggy now.
    We were on a narrow, sandy beach. Low sandstone cliffs ran along the back of it with trees growing at their foot. Out to sea to our left I could see some bright white cliffs and beyond them, white rocks rising out of the sea.
    ‘Are they not bringing the brandy ashore here then?’ I called to Will who was still striding ahead of me. He whipped round and pressed a hand over my mouth.
    ‘Keep your voice down, you stupid girl!’ he muttered angrily. He cast an uneasy glance around him. ‘Don’t you understand?’ he hissed in my ear. ‘The rumours of ghosts will have brought the Preventives over here. Which is what we want. Meanwhile the men will run the goods elsewhere in safety tonight. But we don’t want them to hear talk of … for the love of God, Isabelle, if you have to talk about the goods at all, you say Cousin Jacky.’
    I nodded obediently and he released me. ‘You are a liability,’ he muttered. I shrugged. I really didn’t care.
    ‘What are Preventives anyway?’ I asked.
    ‘That’s our name for Revenue officers.’
    ‘I thought you called them Philistines?’
    ‘Preventives, Preventers, Philistines or just damned interfering scoundrels. They are all in the service of His Majesty’s Customs or Excise.’
    ‘Oh,’ I said, digesting this. ‘So we are a diversion tonight?’ I asked.
    ‘Something like that.’
    We climbed a path off the beach up a sloping green hill. From the top, I could see a vast area of scrub, low trees, and water to our right. ‘What is this godforsaken place?’ I asked. ‘And who is there to see or care about a ghost here?’
    Will paused and glanced back at me. ‘That is Studland Heath,’ he said shortly. ‘Its very remoteness is useful to the Gentlemen. But it’s the village we’re heading to now.’
    As we approached the houses, the short day was fading. Smoke was rising from a couple of cottages and a few lights twinkled in the deepening dusk.
    Will vaulted over a gate into a meadow with cows in. I paused and fumbled at the gate, unsure how to open it and reluctant to enter a field of cows at all.
    ‘Just climb over it,’ sighed Will. ‘Can you at least try to bestir yourself? A lame snail could make swifter progress.’
    His words stung me. ‘You’re unreasonable. No one told me I’d be climbing gates into fields full of beasts.’
    ‘And no one said you wouldn’t be. Give me patience! I’d rather have anyone else for a companion but you.’
    ‘I’d rather walk with Hard-Head Bill than with you,’ I retorted with a scowl. ‘Is it the black hair that makes you so bad-tempered?’
    Will put his hand up to his hair. He had either dyed it or he was wearing a convincing wig, I wasn’t sure which. His eyebrows too had been darkened and there was a mole on his nose that had not been there before. He was wearing the rough smock and waistcoat of a farmer. I would barely have