Kilmuir sobered. “A daughter.”
Emory wasn’t even aware the man had married. Then again, marriage wasn’t necessary to produce offspring. “Where is she coming from.”
“Brussels.”
Kilmuir had been with the cavalry and fought at Waterloo, but he’d been there for months beforehand preparing and training. He must have met his wife, or lover, there.
“Why didn’t you bring her with you?”
“I didn’t learn of her existence until after I returned,” Kilmuir ground out. “Her father refused marriage and sent me away. The woman who should have been my wife, delivered my child nearly six months after Waterloo and died. They would not give the child to me, even though I am her father.”
“You had her kidnapped?”
“No. I had the papers delivered informing her father that I retain full and complete custody and that my daughter was to be handed over.”
“Why didn’t you go get her?” Liam asked.
“Because I would have been shot for the attempt, and my daughter would have been left to be raised by that man. Instead, trusted soldiers made the delivery under the king’s seal, with an accompanying letter from King William of the Netherlands.”
“The king?” Kilmuir’s connections were higher than most.
“I came to know his son during the campaigns under Wellington,” Kilmuir offered. “It was to the prince that I wrote my plea. I had not expected him to take the matter to the king, but I will be forever grateful.”
“Why smuggle her into England if you have official documents from two kings?”
“Because I didn’t wish for the movements to be tracked and risk my daughter being taken from me, then hidden away where I might not find her. There were already three attempts to take my daughter as my men made their way to the coast, so instead of booking passage on a ship, they waited and hid until smugglers could bring them to England.”
“Shouldn’t you be there for delivery?” Liam asked.
“I am to wait, and she will be brought to me.”
“Where are you to wait?” Emory asked.”
Kilmuir chuckled. “I am done waiting on anyone. I know where I can watch without being seen.” He looked between Emory and Liam. “Do you gentlemen care to join me?”
As Emory had never seen smugglers, he agreed to join Kilmuir and Liam.
Kilmuir’s carriage was parked not far away. They boarded the conveyance and soon were on the road toward Forester Hall. That’s when Emory remembered that when Violet borrowed the wagon from the man who ran the lighthouse, he had said that he’d not need it back until today for a delivery tomorrow.
Was Violet aware of the smuggling?
The carriage pulled off into a wooded thicket before they reached the lighthouse.
“We can’t go further or we will be seen,” Kilmuir advised. “I’ve spent the last five days traveling this road and walking the area and have found the perfect location to hide and watch.”
Intrigued, Emory followed him further into the thicket until the trees cleared just before the cliffs. They ducked and maneuvered around scraggly bushes until they were at the edge and had a view of the beach below. Out in the distance, a ship drew near to their location, and below on the sand, several villagers waited.
Emory strained to make out the faces, though he knew few of the residents from his visit in Laswell, but there were nearly as many women as there were men. He studied the area, wondering how they managed to get the cargo from below and realized they were above a cave and not far from them stood the lighthouse. Were there secret passages that led up into the building, and was that how they took the cargo above?
At the sound of horses, he strained to find the location when they emerged on a curve in the rocks, and if it wasn’t for the stone, bushes and trees, Emory wouldn’t have known that it was even there. A steep climb, it was, but he was certain that it had probably been used several times by a skilled driver.
“The boats have been lowered, but I can’t see if my child is onboard one of them,” Kilmuir said as he handed his spyglass off to Emory. He adjusted the lens, but even under the near full moon, he could not make out if the child was there so he turned his attention to the beach again and stilled as the spyglass came into focus on the wagon and driver. Bloody hell! Violet not only knew about the smuggling, but she was a part of it and not far away stood her father, His Grace, the Duke of Arscott, and the eldest son, Wesley Claxton, Marquess Epworth. But worst of all, she’d been the one to drive the wagon down to the beach.
“They are getting closer.” Kilmuir took the spyglass from Emory and focused back on the water. “There is a child with them, and I recognize one of my men.” It was as if the gentleman’s entire body relaxed at the pronouncement as he settled back on his bum. Emory supposed he’d feel the same if someone were trying to keep his daughter from him.
For the longest time, they watched as the boats landed and cargo was unloaded, including Kilmuir’s daughter. The men and the daughter were taken to the wagon and loaded into the back, as everyone else hauled crates from the longboats—including Violet. He didn’t know what items were being smuggled onto the shores, but they were heavy enough to require the assistance of two people, women lifting as much as the men.
“I believe there is more to Lady Violet than I realized,” Liam murmured.
