She shrugged. “I admit my curiosity is piqued.”
He grabbed her carpet bag off the ground. With his other hand he grasped hers, and they followed the mysterious Marielle.
As they made their way to the cliff’s edge, he saw where stairs were carved into the cliffside. The rocky pathway down to the beach was steep and treacherous. He had forgotten about them. As children they had been expressly forbidden to climb the ancient stone steps. But now, attached to the rock by metal clasps was a railing made from thick rope that would allow safer passage to the water below.
Marielle looked back over her shoulder at them. “Hold on as you descend. I don’t want you dying. Yet.”
Malcolm balked at the top but felt the distinctive press of a metal barrel in his back. “Get movin’, guv,” one of the men growled.
Malcolm looked at Adeline. “Can you do it, darling?”
She glanced down the steep stairs her brow furrowed with trepidation. Marielle maneuvered with practiced ease down them.
Adeline’s shoulders straightened, and she nodded at him. “If she can do it, I can do it.”
Brave girl.
“You go ahead of me. Grasp your skirts with one hand, and don’t let go of the rope with the other.” He wasn’t going to let her be prodded by these two thugs behind him. And if she slipped, he could grab her around the arm and keep her from plummeting to her death.
He slung the strap of her carpet bag across his chest and grabbed hold of the makeshift railing. They began to slowly make their way down the cliffside. It turned out to be not as difficult as it looked as long as they held on to the rope. As they reached the bottom, the sounds of men calling out to each other and the dull thuds of wooden boxes being stacked registered. He had been so focused on Adeline as they climbed down that he hadn’t even glanced at the beach. A half dozen small skiffs were pulled up onto the sand, and men hauled crates out of them and passed them down to more men who carried them farther down the beach.
Shit, he recognized a smuggling operation when he saw one. Fucking smugglers on Kingsbury land. And no bloody wonder with nobody living here. It wasn’t as though the Dorset coves hadn’t been used by smugglers for decades. He’d left his family’s land rife for criminals to set up shop.
A dark-haired man set down a large crate and strode toward them. “What have you got here, Marielle?” The man stopped in his tracks as he recognized Malcolm.
Malcolm cursed under his breath again and grabbed Adeline by the waist, pulling her close. Treave Haddonfield, a slippery bastard he had almost arrested thrice.
Haddonfield’s ugly face split into a cruel smile. “Well, well, Commander Iveson. What are you doing in our cove?”
“You mean in my cove,” Malcolm replied. He would have to do plenty of posturing if he had any chance of getting Adeline out of here alive. He gripped the handle of her bag as he slid the strap off his shoulder. Damn it, they should have left it in the inn. How could so many things go wrong in one short morning?
“Il est Kingsbury,” Marielle said.
“No.” Haddonfield pointed a fat finger at him. “He is a bloody exciseman. He’s shut down countless ships. Terror of the Channel.”
Adeline caught his eye.Terror of the Channel?she mouthed with one eyebrow arched.
Malcolm couldn’t help grinning. He hadn’t heard that moniker. Rather liked it though.
“He has the ring.” Marielle held up a hand when Haddonfield opened his mouth. “This is a matter for Bretton. Where is he?”
The cur glared daggers at Malcolm over Marielle’s shoulder. “He’s on board. Be in on the last skiff.”
Marielle nodded. “Allez. Get back to work.”
Haddonfield grunted but turned and stalked off.
The lady obviously was in charge along with this Bretton fellow. Perhaps Malcolm could talk his way out of this den of thieves after all.
“Follow me.” The lady waved her pistol and headed down the beach. The sun was starting to climb higher in the sky, shining directly into their eyes. He held tight to Adeline’s hand. A hundred feet down, they passed a narrow opening to a large cave. Torches were lit within, and Malcolm could make out the hulking shapes of stacked crates.
But Marielle kept walking down the beach. She rounded a large outcropping of rock, and on the other side, they came upon a small, secluded horseshoe section of beach. “You two sit.” She pointed her gun at Adeline.
Malcolm led them to where she indicated and was surprised to find a smooth, flat rock they could sit upon.
Marielle turned back to her thugs. “Jacob, go get an accurate tally of what’s been brought in. Hank, go wait for Bretton. Tell him to come see me when he steps foot on land.”
“You sure, boss?”
