“My grandfather knew?”
Mr. Nance nodded. “Oh, ‘e knew. ‘Twas his operation. Being that it’s so close to the coast, Morvoren is the ideal location. ‘Twould never be suspect considering Master’s reputation, but he reaped the profits to help the estate.”
Isaac scowled. “And you’re telling me that you’ve simply ‘turned a blind eye?’”
Mr. Nance blinked. “Don’t be blamin’ me, sir.”
“Who else is there to blame?”
His eyes shifted again, left and right. “I helped this house. When the fields wouldn’t yield and the rents came late, it weren’t silk or spirits—it were jobs. Your grandfather sold the goods so the kitchen fires could stay lit and no one ‘ere would go to bed hungry.”
Isaac’s mind reeled. So Grandfather had justified the crimes to keep the estate afloat during its most difficult years. But at a great risk. “That explains my grandfather’s involvement, but after his death, it should have ended. The land has been profitable without smuggling. It’s obviously still in operation.” Dread sank deeper into his stomach. How had he allowed this to continue under his own roof? He shouldn’t have abandoned the place.
Mr. Nance looked down at the stone floor. “Profits are still to be had, sir.”
“You’re being given a piece of them for your silence?”
His eyes shifted again.
Isaac sighed, raking a hand over his hair. “Tell me, Nance. I won’t expose your involvement if you tell me who is operating it. You do realize the punishment you could face.”
He gulped. “When Mr. Fenwick recognized your intentions to leave the estate entirely to his care, he took the opportunity to continue the operation with the help of…” his voice trailed off. “With the help of Mr. Percy Ellington, sir.”
“Percy?” Isaac’s skin grew cold. Had he known this secret about their grandfather all along? He had spent many summers at the estate with Grandfather, while Isaac had remained with his family. Percy must have discovered their grandfather’s secret during that time. Perhaps that was why he wanted Lanveneth so badly. More storage, more secret routes, more hidden doors. He could live nearby in grandeur while operating his high profit illegal business with the help of Isaac’s steward.
Percy gambled often, but Isaac wouldn’t have guessed he was capable of taking such a risk with the law.
“Thank you, Nance.” Isaac’s head spun. If he wasn’t careful, he could be framed for the crimes. He would need to find proof of Percy’s involvement.
But how?
Chapter Twenty-Three
The sun was already setting by the time Sophia managed to escape Lanveneth. Mama had been keeping to her room, most likely to avoid another confrontation from Sophia. Aunt Hester had retired early, allowing Sophia the opportunity to sneak out of the house unseen.
With her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders, she made her away through the coastal trail that led to Morvoren. The sea reflected the sun, the soft glow illuminating the patches of wildflowers that cascaded down the cliffside and spilled over the edges of the path. Pink sea thrift, oxeye daisies, and bright yellow Alexanders. Sophia had forgotten how beautiful it all was. She had forgotten how calming the swell of the sea was to her heart, how invigorating the salty air felt against her skin and hair. She felt like she could breathe more easily here, as if some piece of life had been restored to her soul.
Lanveneth was positioned more inland than Morvoren, so the closer she drew to the house, the closer she came to the cliffs. Dark rocks peeked above the surface of the sea below, the waves cresting in foamy white as they crashed against them. She moved quickly toward the grey stone facade of Morvoren,knocking hard against the front door. She didn’t know how close Isaac would be to hear it. The staff was sure to be scarce.
After waiting for a long moment, she knocked again. The moment her fist left the door, it flew open.
Isaac stood behind it with a look of surprise. His expression softened. “Sophia.”
He wore shirtsleeves and a waistcoat, the top three buttons undone. His neck lacked its usual cravat, leaving her with no question as to the sharpness of his jaw. On their journey, the stubble on his face had grown away from his skin, leaving a shadow that she was fairly certain he wouldn’t have grown so quickly the first time she had met him in Cornwall.
She realized how long she had been staring at him without saying a word. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to have visited without warning, but I have much to tell you.”
He stepped aside, motioning for her to enter the house. “You are always welcome to visit me without warning.”
She caught a glimpse of his smile as she passed.
She turned to face him as he closed the door behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw the white sheets that shrouded every piece of furniture, and the flicker of a few candles on the walls. But she could hardly focus on her surroundings. Only on Isaac.
“I have much to tell you, too,” he said.
“Would you like to speak first?” she offered.
Isaac’s soft brown eyes traced over her face, and that one look was enough to elevate her pulse. Perhaps it hadn’t been wise to walk here alone. The atmosphere was clawing at her sense of propriety, stirring up the emotions she had been fighting to keep in a cage.
