A smile split his face as he took a deep breath. Being in Cornwall had awoken a sense of courage inside him, an ability to confront his past without fear. Grandfather had died within the walls of Morvoren, but he had alsolived.Isaac had always admired him for living the way he saw fit, not the way he was told.Criminal activities aside, of course.
If Isaac could turn Morvoren House into a home again, with Sophia at his side, Grandfather might smile down upon him. He might forgive Isaac’s neglect and be proud. The idea eased the nerves inside him, giving him the courage to begin his walk to Lanveneth.
But first, he needed to check on Mr. Nance’s progress.
Circling around the side of the house, Isaac found him exactly where he had left him earlier that day, shoveling dirt and rocks into the passageway that led to the cellar. It was enough to keep anyone from entering for now, but later Isaac would have it permanently sealed. If he was going to be worthy of Sophiaand keep her reputation and family safe, then he couldn’t even have the temptation of participating in smuggling in the future. He would continue to earn a respectable living from the land, nothing more.
If the late Mr. Hale had been wary of him,andLord Blackstone, it was all Isaac could do to prove that he wasn’t going to put Sophia in danger.
“Fine work, Nance,” Isaac said with a nod. The man grunted in reply, dropping another shovel full of dirt into the shrinking hole behind the shrubs. Isaac would have felt guilty for putting him to work for so many hours, but Mr. Nance knew he was earning every penny he had been slipped for aiding the smugglers.
Isaac set off toward the path that led to Lanveneth, passing a few villagers on his way. The landscape was as rugged as the faces that passed, men and women who had spent the day working in the mines, farming, or fishing. Isaac had taken his position in society for granted. He needed to be here, tending to his estate himself, aiding those he could with additional employment and food.
His guilt transformed to determination inside him, growing stronger with each step. He couldn’t be certain of his grandfather’s motivations for participating in smuggling, but knowing the man, Isaac supposed he had done it for the reasons Mr. Nance had said: to keep his estate thriving, and perhaps even to give parts of the spoils to the fishermen and others who helped him bring the goods ashore. Grandfather wasn’t selfish. It was those who carried on his legacy for their own designs who were.
Isaac’s steps slowed as he moved inland toward Lanveneth. He froze. Up ahead on the path, was a man dressed in all black, a beaver hat shadowing the upper half of his face. It couldn’t be…
Percy?
There was no mistaking his black hair and the nefarious edge to his gait. Even from a distance, Isaac recognized his cousin’s saunter, walking stick and all. What the devil was he doing leaving Lanveneth? After his motives had been exposed to Prudence, Isaac hadn’t seen him in London anywhere. He had assumed Percy had fled to avoid scandal, but he hadn’t guessed that Cornwall would be his destination.
Isaac approached with caution, his jaw tight. He watched Percy’s face for any sign of panic, but his features remained smooth, as if he was not surprised in the slightest to see Isaac there.
“I was just on my way to Morvoren,” Percy called out. The breeze muffled his words.
Isaac scowled, holding in his response until the gap between them was only a few paces. “Off to collect another shipment?”
Percy’s mouth spread into a smile, but his eyes were unamused. “I knew Nance wouldn’t be capable of holding his tongue.” He dug the end of his walking stick into the dirt before meeting Isaac’s gaze. “And that is why I have made my hasty departure from London.”
Isaac lifted his eyebrows. “Are you here to beg for mercy?”
Percy gave a dry laugh. “Blackstone revoked my membership in his club, but not before he mentioned that you had fled to Cornwall after Prudence. I thought I ought to come speak with you in person about the possibility of becoming partners.”
Isaac scoffed, a deep laugh escaping his throat. “You rushed to Cornwall because you knew your sham was about to be uncovered. You knew that if I wished to turn you over to the law, I very well could.” Anger surged beneath his skin. “What were you doing at Lanveneth?”
“I was apologizing to Miss Prudence.”
“And trying to win her back?”
“No. I knew that would be impossible. You made certain of that.” Percy’s voice was bitter.
Isaac couldn’t believe a word his cousin said. He may have come to Cornwall to plead his case and try to cover his tracks, but he certainly hadn’t gone to Lanveneth just to apologize to Prudence. He had likely made one last grand effort to regain her favor. The poor girl must have been shaken by his visit.
Isaac drew a step closer. “You are to stay away from Lanveneth and Prudence.”
“Oh? Do you dictate my decisions now?” Percy’s arrogant smile made Isaac’s skin prickle with distaste.
“If you wish to keep your head out of the noose, then yes, I do.”
Percy’s smile faltered. He dug his walking stick deeper into the dirt. He could act arrogant all he wanted, but he knew he had been caught. What did he expect would happen when Isaac finally made his way back to Morvoren? Did he think Isaac would never discover the secret door in the cellar, or eventually catch sight of men sneaking around his property at night with wagons full of crates? Percy must have known his ruse would be up at some point. That must have been why he offered Isaac partnership instead of giving up the profits entirely.
“You don’t have any proof,” Percy snapped. “A servant’s word isn’t going to convict a man of my standing.”
“What standing? Blackstone could destroy your reputation if he wished.” Isaac crossed his arms over his chest. “I have letters between you and my steward. I have plenty of evidence to prove that you not only trespassed on my property on multiple occasions but have been coordinating illegal shipments for the past four years.”
A muscle jumped in Percy’s jaw as he stared down at the ground. “Obviously grandfather condoned the practice. Would you not have any interest in continuing what he built? We couldkeep it hidden easily enough. The tradesmen here turn a blind eye when they’re given a portion of the spoils.”
“Not for my personal gain.” Isaac glared at him. “And not at the risk of those I love.”
