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the mercantile, I assumed you required my services as the constable.” He glanced between them. “Am I wrong to assume that you need my assistance?”

“You are not wrong,” Oliver confirmed.

“Did one of your household staff steal from you?” the constable asked. “If so, we take theft very seriously here.”

“As do I, but that is not why we are here,” Oliver replied. “May we speak somewhere privately?”

Constable Philmont waved them towards his shop. “If you come in, we can speak in my office.” He stepped inside and ordered, “Timothy, come watch Lord and Lady Oliver’s horses.”

A thin boy, no older than ten, hurried outside and held his hand out for the reins.

After they handed off the reins to the boy, Oliver extended his arm to Emmeline and led her inside. They followed the constable towards the back and into a small office with a lone window along the back wall.

The constable closed the door and gestured towards two chairs that sat in front of a desk. “Please have a seat,” he encouraged as he came around his desk.

Once Emmeline was situated, the men took their seats.

With an expectant look, Constable Philmont asked, “How may I help you today?”

“Last night, Her Ladyship and I were walking along the beach near our manor and we saw smugglers come ashore,” Oliver revealed.

Constable Philmont’s brow shot up. “Smugglers?” he repeated. “Are you sure?”

“We know what we saw,” Oliver replied in an authoritative voice. “We watched as they collected barrels from the water and hid them in a crevice inside of the cliff’s wall.”

Leaning back in his seat, the constable stared at them with a look of disbelief on his face. “Why would smugglers come ashore at Whitstable?” he asked. “It makes more sense for them to continue up the coast and follow the Thames to ports around London.”

“I do not know their intentions,” Oliver remarked dryly. “I can only confirm that they are using your shores to deposit smuggled goods.”

“I don’t mean to downplay the significance of this finding, but I am wholly unprepared to deal with smugglers,” the constable admitted. “I suppose I can organize the local militia, but it is comprised mostly of farmers and shop workers.”

“They will need to make their presence known on the beach so the smugglers will know that they have been spotted,” Oliver said. “With any luck, the smugglers will move on to another location that is better equipped to handle them.”

The constable tapped his finger on his desk. “Can you show me where the barrels are being stored?”

“I would be happy to,” Oliver agreed.

Removing a pocket watch from his brown waistcoat, the constable studied it for a moment. “I will need to close up shop for a while, but I have a delivery coming in thirty minutes that I must contend with. Would it be permissible if I ride out to Lockhart Manor in an hour or so?”

Rising, Oliver replied, “That would be more than acceptable.”

Emmeline accepted her husband’s hand as she rose. “Thank you for your assistance, Constable Philmont,” she said kindly.

“It is my pleasure, milady,” the constable replied, rising.

Oliver placed his hand on her elbow and gently led her out of the mercantile. He reached into the pocket of his waistcoat, removed a few coins, and extended them towards the young boy who was watching over their horses.

The boy’s eyes grew wide as he accepted the money. “Thank you, milord,” he said before he handed them the reins.

After Oliver assisted Emmeline onto her sidesaddle and mounted his horse, they made their way down the street. They had just left the village when Oliver turned to her and asked, “Would you care to race back to Lockhart Manor?”

Without any hesitation, she kicked her horse into a run and leaned lower in her saddle.

Emmeline had just stepped into her bedchamber when she spun back around and announced, “I am going with you.”

Oliver shook his head. “I think not.”

“May I ask why?”

He closed the door, then said, “I don’t want you in harm’s way.”

She gave him a disbelieving look. “By walking along the beach during the day?”

“What if a smuggler saw you enter the crevice?” he asked. “Your life could be in danger.”

Placing a hand on her hip, she questioned, “And what about you?”

“It is a risk that I am willing to take.”

“You seem rather reckless with your own safety,” she commented.

Oliver reached to the back of his trousers and retrieved an overcoat pistol. “I have two pistols on my person and a dagger in my left boot.”

Emmeline stared back at him in amazement. “May I ask why?”

“One never knows when there will be a need to defend oneself.”

Walking over to her reticule on the dressing table, she reached inside and pulled out a muff pistol. “If I take my pistol, may I go with you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“No.”

“What if—”

“No.”

“Perhaps I could—”

“No.”

Emmeline frowned. “You are being entirely unreasonable.”

Oliver tucked the pistol into the waistband of his trousers and covered it up with his waistcoat. As he approached his wife, he said, “I do credit your desire to help, but smugglers are merciless. They will kill you without hesitation or provocation.”

“But don’t smugglers come at night?”

“Generally, but they might have someone acting as a lookout on shore keeping an eye on the barrels,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her.

Emmeline gave him a timid smile as she looked up at him. “I don’t like to sit idly by.”

“I am well aware of that fact, but you must trust me on this.”

Her eyes searched his as she murmured, “I want to trust you, wholly, but something is holding me back.”

“Which is?”

“When you speak to me, I hear the sincerity in your voice, but your actions speak otherwise,” she said.

“What does your heart tell you?”

She lowered her gaze to the lapels of his blue riding jacket. “It tells me to trust you, but I am scared.”

“Of what?”

“Making a fool of myself,” she replied, bringing her gaze back up.

“Oh, Emme,” he started, placing a hand on the sleeve of

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