It became a little easier as they reached the landing below, and Charity’s thoughts inevitably returned to Jago Cardell. ‘Do you suppose Mr Cardell may be able to assist us with the problem of Mary?’ she questioned, referring to her father’s comment in the coffee shop earlier. The Reverend hmphed in response which she took to mean he thought it unlikely.
‘I don’t believe he is any part of the smuggling ring,’ she persisted, ‘and in Nicholas’s absence, we certainly needsomebodyto advise us in the best course of action.’
‘I’m certain the Almighty has a plan,’ her father answered with a grimace. ‘He just hasn’t shared it with me yet.’
Charity gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I don’t doubt that for one minute, Father. But consider that the Lord’s plan might well be the fortuitous appearance of Mr Cardell. And you’re always saying that God helps those who help themselves.’
The Reverend hmphed again as they arrived at the entrance to the small dining room. ‘And what makes you think Mr Cardell is in any position to help us?’ he argued as they were shown to a table in the corner. Charity waited until they were both seated before answering. ‘I don’t, but we must effect Mary’s release by whatever means necessary and to do so, we cannot close our minds to any course of action.’ She sighed and picked up her napkin.
‘Mayhap if we simply offer a few hints as to the problem during dinner, we can ascertain whether or not he can lend us his aid,’ she suggested, just as Percy arrived.
‘Yes, well, whatever you do, donotmention that your brother-in-law is the Duke of Blackmore. I cannot imagine any good will come of revealing that particular connection, given the circumstances.’ Reverend Shackleford paused and looked over towards the empty doorway. ‘In truth the man may not be coming at all,’ he observed, ‘seeing as it’s now ten past the hour and there’s no sign of him.’
Charity was surprised at the surge of disappointment she felt at the thought that Jago Cardell might not join them. ‘I am certain if he found himself unable to attend, he would have informed us of the fact,’ she declared, privately wondering if she was trying to convince her father or herself.
Percy was white faced and uncommunicative and initially refused the Reverend’s suggestion of a tankard of ale, only capitulating when sternly informed it was his duty to keep his strength up. Charity was just ordering a small glass of wine, when her heart gave a dull thud as their guest suddenly appeared at the entrance to the dining room. ‘Would you be so good as to escort the gentlemen at the doorway to this table?’ she asked of the serving maid, uncomfortably aware of how breathless her voice sounded.
‘Remember, you were very happy to consider Mr Cardell as a possible ally just a few short hours ago,’ she urged her father as they watched their guest make his way over to their table. ‘Ah, Mr Cardell,’ she proclaimed, ‘how pleasant it is to see you again.’ The large man gave a small bow. ‘The honour is mine, Miss Shackleford,’ he responded. ‘Please forgive my tardiness. Unfortunately, my shift finished late.’
‘Well you are here now,’ Charity smiled, ‘and that’s all that matters.’
To her relief, although Percy remained quiet, her father made an effort towards lively conversation. It wasn’t difficult. Jago Cardell was both eloquent and amusing, furthering Charity’s suspicion that he was much more than he seemed. His eyes also strayed to hers on more than one occasion, and her heart soared as she dared to believe he found her at least a little attractive. It wasn’t until they’d nearly finished their main course that the question of their presence in Dartmouth was finally raised.
‘We are here at the request of Percy’s mother,’ Reverend Shackleford offered carefully with a nod towards the reticent curate.
‘Oh, is the lady ill?’ asked Jago.
‘No, she’s in gaol.’
The silence in response to Percy’s abrupt declaration was deafening. ‘I’m sorry, I cannot simply sit here and make polite conversation any longer,’ the curate continued defensively. ‘Either Mr Cardell can help us, or he cannot. And if he is in the pay of this … Jack person, then I alone must face the consequences. She is after all my mother.’
‘What do you know of Jack?’ questioned Jago sharply, his face turning hard and closed in complete contrast to his earlier light-heartedness. Charity’s stomach roiled unpleasantly at his tone.
Augustus Shackleford cast a quick glare towards Percy, then gave a resigned sigh and told their guest exactly why they were in Dartmouth and what had happened earlier that day.So much for offering a few hints, Charity thought a trifle hysterically.
‘So your mother is the infamous Mary Noon?’ was all Jago said when the Reverend fell silent.
‘I was not aware she was considered so,’ murmured Percy despondently. ‘We do not have a … a close relationship. Especially given my calling.’ He gestured towards his cassock.
‘I knew her in Salcombe,’ Jago continued. ‘I was not aware she’d been arrested.’ To Charity’s relief, his voice had lost its hard edge. ‘How is it you think I can help?’
‘Are you involved with this …Jack, Mr Cardell?’ Charity asked abruptly, watching his response carefully.
Jago stared back at her, his expression giving nothing away. When he didn’t answer immediately, Charity began to feel sick, thinking they’d made a terrible, terrible mistake. The relief she felt when he finally said, ‘No, I am not,’ almost made her giddy.
No one spoke as he took a long draft of his ale and signalled to the serving maid to bring him and the other two men a brandy. When the maid had left, taking his empty tankard away, Jago finally turned back to the still silent table and took a deep breath.
‘It’s my belief that the man was responsible for the cold-blooded murder of my sister.’ He paused and swallowed before telling them what had happened. ‘I have spent the last two years of my life trying to bring him to justice.’ His voice as he finished, which up to then had been carefully emotionless, suddenly broke. ‘Two years,’ he ground out, his voice ragged with suppressed pain, ‘and I still don’t even know what the bastard looks like.’
There was another stunned silence, this time from shock. Until Charity spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper.
‘I do.’
Chapter Nine
Jago could not contain his exhilaration at the thought that he’d finally met someone who could identify the Hope Cove gang’s leader. He didn’t doubt that a select few were aware of Jack’s real identity, but none would be prepared to risk the bastard’s wrath by leaking it to the authorities.
When Charity Shackleford described the circumstances in which she’d come across the notorious smuggler, his admiration for her increased tenfold. Her father unsurprisingly was not quite as awestruck.
