Page 32 of The Scholar’s Spy

Mulishly, Abigail dropped her gaze, and was surprised when Robert tightened his grip, one hand snaking around her waist, and the other lifting to cup her face. “I would not believe you guilty, but you must tell what you know. Where did these papers come from? How did you get hold of them? I have heard you called dangerous, and it must be because of something you know.”

Seconds dragged by, in which Abigail could feel the frantic beat of his chest against hers, an urgency to his breath. She focused on his face, attempting to understand if all he really wanted was the name of the bookseller in Lyme Regis.

If she were to have her way, she would simply kiss him again. There was a simplicity to the touch of his mouth on hers which chased away the everyday worries of the rest of the world. But they were out in the open, in the middle of the beach and whilst it might have been raining, Abigail was not certain if they might be spotted.

Her father’s cane clattered to one side, and Abigail pulled an inch away from him.

If her mother’s friends caught wind of them kissing on the beach, Abigail’s plans to never wed would be sabotaged forever. But that did not mean she did not want to kiss him—she wanted that a great deal, and the one taste she had promised herself last night might well not ever be enough.

“Mr. Frew,” Abigail said. “In answer to your question.”

Robert’s face creased, his firm lips thinning as he looked down at her. Abigail mused it was helpful he was only just six feet, it meant he did not tower over her, and she could better study his face. Appreciate the sharpness of his cheekbones, without straining up into his face. Better make a study of his crystal-clear blue eyes, so icy they sent shivers of awareness down her back. Luxuriate in the shape of his lips and recall in exquisite detail how they had felt against her own.

“Are you saying he is the front of the operation?” Robert asked. He pulled her over and onto the nearest rock. It was a large formation big enough for them to sit, provided they sat close enough. Exchanging whispers, despite there not being another soul close by. “I’ve heard a great deal of rumors, a few snatched names, but other than the name of the Pinhayers. But I don’t know much.”

“Pinhay is a town not far from here,” Abigail said. She did not know how widely Robert had travelled in the area. “It is not especially to my taste. Although Squire Liddell resides close by, if you were seeking—”

“I know. I was able to piece that together.” Robert smiled, although he looked angry. “God, I feel this is all I know, the lay of the land. Who is who. But nothing about what they do in the dark of night. Nothing concrete. Liddell is not the man I am after. The man is near eighty, and his son is a general. He is unlikely to be breaking the law. But the name Frew is a new one, I had not considered…”

“You have not been to his bookshop?” Abigail asked. “Mr. Frew is a most efficient bookseller. My foreign pamphlets do tend to take a little longer to reach us, since they are sent down from London.”

“You do not believe Mr. Frew is engaged in a form of treason, or smuggling?” Robert asked.

“No, of course not.” Abigail could not help laughing. “Why would he need to? If someone was after bootlegged goods—”

“Yes?” Robert asked. Abigail found the fierceness of his stare intimidating. “What do you know, Abigail?”

Chapter Twelve

“I don’t think I know anything,” she smiled at him. “Not about what happens in town. All I have ever tried to care about is this.” She gestured toward the landslip that had almost killed her yesterday.

He studied her with an intensity as she looked back at him guilelessly. Bessie the maid might be right, but he believed her—this was the thing she was passionate about, wholeheartedly.

Abigail said, “Please.” Abigail’s tone shifted as she turned on her heel. “I do very much wish to explore the site today, especially before more treasure seekers arrive. Can we walk over there now?”

Falling into step next to her, Robert kept his eyes on the sea. The light rain had eased a little. The clouds had started to recede somewhat, and there was a soft cheerful breeze that whispered of the coming summer.

Abigail moved with as much grace as she could, side stepping over rock pools and mounds, kneeling here and there to study a sight of interest before moving on. She did not move too far though, her hands feeling through the earth, and debris, before pausing to look up at the sky. She lowered her head down suddenly amongst the spreading rubble of Blue Lias, her eyes bright as she looked around herself with satisfaction.

“Excellent. I will begin here.” Abigail gave him a smile, which spoke of an inner knowledge she had of this area that he was sadly ignorant of. “It had better not rain again.” She sank down lower, so she was crouching, close to the ground. One hand darted into the dirt, feeling her way around.

“You command it, and it must be so,” Robert said. Trust Abigail to believe so greatly in her own powers as to have her wishes granted so immediately.

“No,” she said. “I think I have something of great interest, and if it rains…” She looked over her shoulder, out across the beach before turning her face to Robert’s. “I don’t want anyone else coming along and stealing it.”

The beach was quiet, the cliffs’ white surfaces gleaming in the faint light. Interlocking hills, played and cut into the large white cliff surface, encircling them in the bay.

It was early still. Distantly on the pathways leading out of Lyme Regis, Robert could make out several workmen heading toward the fields, and likewise there was the occasional sound or shape of a horse and cart, but otherwise the only constant was the noise of the sea. If it weren’t for the bounding of his own professional pressure, it would be the most soothing of settings.

Abigail set to work searching through the overflowing landslide. She was meticulous as she picked through the rubble, careful to pause and search.

Hours ticked by, with her occasional question or remark thrown his way. Despite himself, Robert found it companionable. Besides, it was fascinating watching her work.

“Is anyone else coming?”

Robert placed his glasses on and strained his eyes. There was a sheen, a smudge of sunshine warming up the background of his sight, but he could see no one approaching. “I cannot see anyone likely to be along here right now.”

“Good, then come help me,” Abigail said. The tone of her voice drew his attention. “I don’t think this is one of the normal finds. We might have got lucky. Just as I’d hoped.” There was such a gleaming beacon of excitement to her voice that Robert had not heard before. It was childish excitement. Adult joy. Bundled together in a package that was uniquely Abigail. “Thank heaven. I really do think I have found something magnificent.”