It was two in the afternoon when Darcy awoke, heavy-eyed and languid. After a bath and a strong cup of coffee, he descended to the breakfast parlor where a cold collation had been set out. Richard was already seated, looking as worn as Darcy felt.
“Darcy,” he said with a laugh, “you look torn to pieces. You truly missed your beauty rest.”
Darcy gave a wry smile. “And you, cousin, look no better.”
Richard laughed. “You are right enough. But I have good news. The four smugglers left at six this morning and sought cover in an old warehouse ten miles distant. Our scouts followed them. Like clockwork, more kegs were brought from the coast and hidden there. A new set of men was tracked further still, to another store ten miles beyond. A soldier has returned with the report. They mean to follow the chain all the way back to the sea on the one hand and into London on the other.”
Darcy leaned forward; his interest quickened. “And the colonel?”
“He has already sent a man to London for reinforcements. The plan is to raid all the identified sites within three days, arrest the men, confiscate the contraband, and use the proceeds to fund this and further operations to the north.”
Darcy considered. “And what of the wagoneers?”
“No word yet,” Richard admitted. “But they will also be tracked. Once the raids begin, the goods will be seized, the wagoneers will be apprehended, and the storage buildings will be forfeited to the Crown. The colonel is determined to strike at once in all locations, so that stragglers who escape will not be able to sound the alarm. Our assignment here in Rosings is to watch the eastern border for gang activity, and then send an alert to the dragoons who are stationed in this region.”
Darcy nodded. “So once the routes through Hunsford are shut, the network will be forced to rely upon the northern routes, and Rosings will be free of smuggler activity.”
As planned, the raid was executed three days later. At dawn, the dragoons advanced upon the barns and warehouses all along the routes where the contraband had been traced. The smugglers in this southern region had long been accustomed to impunity from the local excise officers and were unprepared for the attack. The soldiers surrounded each site before an alarm could be raised, and with a signal, the order was given. The strategy was effective, and by the end of the month, most of the contraband had been confiscated, and gang members were taken captive.
At Rosings, on the first day of the raid, Richard and Darcy watched the proceedings from the hidden garden high in the bluff. They watched as the redcoats moved to the barn and surrounded it. Shots were fired in warning, but the four gangmembers who were loading a wagon did not resist. Three hours later, a second wagon arrived with four more gang members. The soldiers waited until the wagon was loaded, and then a scout trailed the wagon down a little-used track to their distribution hub.
At Romney Marsh, the principal storehouses were secured, and the dragoons confiscated vast reserves of brandy, tobacco, and silk. Wagons were loaded with the goods, and they were taken away under government seal. More than seventy-five smugglers were arrested across the southern district. Some gang members attempted to flee, but they were pursued and overtaken on the marsh roads.
On the evening of the third day of the raid in the area immediately surrounding Rosings Park, Darcy and Richard sat in the drawing room with Colonel Stewart and Captain Roberts. The men had dined together, and now they were drinking to the success of the raid.
Colonel Stewart raised a glass in a toast. “Colonel, it has been a pleasure working with you. The smugglers were arrogant. They had been too long unopposed and believed themselves to be untouchable. Our smashing success is greatly in part because of their own carelessness.”
“I am glad it proved straightforward,” Richard replied. “There was no bloodshed on either side, and yet the power of the gang has been broken here in this corner of Kent.”
Darcy asked, “Colonel, is this district now cleared?”
“Yes,” the colonel replied. “Rye and Romney Marsh are secure. Excise officers or dragoons are posted along every principal road and track that was discovered in this raid, hunting down stragglers.”
Richard leaned forward. “The estate owners here in Hunsford have pledged funds for the wages of the discharged soldiers I have engaged. We mean to raise families, not live in fear. With Ashworth returning in February, we will guard one another’s lands.”
The colonel raised his glass. “Then we leave this parish in good hands. We are reassigned northward, where smuggling remains cloaked in darkness. It will be more difficult there, but the same work must be done.”
Darcy looked from his cousin to the colonel and asked, “Colonel, is it safe for my family to return to Rosings?”
The colonel looked to Richard. “You will continue to find stragglers in this area for some weeks more as we confiscate storage buildings and goods in other locations. I would recommend waiting a month or two. What do you say, Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
Richard compressed his lips in thought. “That would appear to be the most cautious approach. We will wait to return my relations. What can my six men and I do during these next weeks?”
The men remained for another hour, discussing the work that Colonel Fitzwilliam and his hired men would undertake over the coming weeks.
The following morning, the two cousins rode down to the barn, which would be fitted for human habitation. Work had begun on the kitchen and pantries, and six bedchambers had been measured out to be framed.
The six hired men were gathered at the barn. The three who had worked the night watch were reporting to the men who wouldwork during the day. Percy called out with grim satisfaction. “We caught a smuggler, sir. He came wandering in, expecting to load wagons. He is bound out back. The man claims to be a local farmer, but that could be a ruse. Shall we send him on to London with the rest?”
Richard strode to the back of the barn and saw a large, heavy man bound at the ankles and wrists sitting on the ground. “What is your name?”
“Stillman, sir. I’m a tenant on Blackwood land. My family has worked those fields for three generations, sir. I’ve been away to Cornwall to bury an uncle. These men tell me the smugglers have been caught.”
Richard asked, “What do you know of the trade?”
“I know only that I am to come here on Wednesdays and Saturdays to load the kegs. It brings in a little extra coin.”
“Do you know the leaders’ names?”
