Page 137 of A Perilous Passion

His temper boiled over. In the blink of an eye, both pistols were out of his pockets, one trained on Corporal Triggs’s forehead, the other at the head of the rifleman.

More clicks sounded in the still night, making his hackles rise. “If you value your sorry skins, listen carefully,” he said. “I’ll drop these two before any of you can fire a shot. It wouldn’t look good returning to barracks with a dead officer because you were too hasty in your judgment. I’m on the king’s business and carry proof of that. Stand your men down, Corporal, and I’ll show you.”

For a few seconds, all he heard was the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. He’d be damned if everything he’d achieved so far was to be lost in such ignominious circumstances.

He held Triggs’s gaze until the man looked away and ordered, “Stand down, men.”

Rafe’s shoulders relaxed, and he rubbed at the sore spot where the rifle butt had hit him. Uncocking his pistols, he replaced them in his pockets, spread his arms wide, and said, “Left breast pocket, as I said.”

Triggs retrieved the documents, and Rafe enjoyed watching his face change as he read them. The man handed the papers back, stepped away, and saluted smartly. “My apologies, sir,” he said, as Rafe nodded his acknowledgement. “We have orders to be particularly alert tonight, and we’ve already had some trouble. It seemed mighty suspicious, you being out here at this late hour.”

Rafe took Triggs’s elbow and turned him away from the rest of the detachment, who were talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. “Why are you on particular alert?” he asked.

“Two reasons. First, there’s reputedly a footpad haunts this heath. The horseless highwayman, the locals call him. Lord Culverdale just put a bounty on his head.”

Culverdale? Blast it! This was an unforeseen hindrance. “What’s the bounty?” Rafe asked, thinking quickly.

“A hundred guineas.”

“I’ll double that, if you capture the man alive, unharmed, and bring him straight to me.”

The corporal grinned broadly. “Aye, sir. Where can we find you?”

“At Dovehouse Farm. But be discreet.”

“Oh, we will.” Triggs would be for the chop if his superiors knew he was after bounty, rather than doing his duty.

“The second reason?” Rafe asked.

Triggs’s expression turned somber. “A few hours ago on the heath, we stumbled on a bevy of free traders. Private Maddox was shot and killed in the skirmish.”

Rafe tamped down the chill fury that assaulted him. So, the smugglers were murderers now. And arrogant enough to take on a detachment of soldiers.

This put a whole new perspective on things and made his mission all the more urgent. And Charlotte would be far less likely to condone the free trade when she learned of this killing.

“I’m sorry,” he told Triggs.

“Yes, sir. He was a good man.”

“We need to work together from now on, Corporal. I’ve been detailed to capture at least one of the smugglers for questioning. But it needs to be done by stealth. I know you must be baying for blood after tonight, but if you scale down your patrols so I can go about my mission unheeded, I’ll mention your name in my next dispatch.”

The corporal considered this. “Are we not to look for the highwayman, either?” The disappointment in his tone was obvious.

“Only for a few days. But the double bounty will still stand after that. I’ll clear everything with your commanding officer at the fort. What’s his name?”

“Colonel Vansittart, sir.” Triggs regarded him for a moment, lifting his lantern higher. “If you don’t mind me saying so, I’ve seen you walking in the village with a young lady.”

Rafe sucked in a breath. He’d been afraid of that. It must have been when he’d accompanied Charlotte home from the beach.

“I’ve been in the company of almost everyone in Fortuneswell,” he replied evenly. “I’m gathering information.”

Triggs continued to stare at him. “I understand, sir. But the young lady might be someone you wouldn’t want to know what you’re up to.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because her father was Abraham Cutler. Cutler ran contraband across Essex, using a network of taverns for dispersal.”

He was getting angry now. “Don’t be ridiculous, man. Her name is Allston.”