"Mr. Foley," said Alex. "I came as fast as I could."
"There was no need to rush, although there are things you need to know," Foley replied carefully.
"Ye ken Jim," Alex said. "And this is Murdo, another friend of mine, and a trusted one." Duncan smiled briefly at the smuggler, who assessed him before moving on to the other stranger. Beth stepped forward into the light, and his eyes widened appreciatively at sight of the startlingly beautiful young woman in the travel-stained, faded brown woollen dress.
"Mrs. Abernathy," she said by way of introduction. "I have heard a great deal about you, Mr Foley. I'm delighted to meet you, at last." She held out her hand. He took it and she grasped and shook it firmly, before he could raise it to his lips. He was shrewd, recognising what she was saying by this; she knew about him, therefore her husband trusted her. And she did not want Gabriel Foley to treat her as a feeble woman.
"I thought it time you became acquainted with my wife, Gabriel," Alex said. "You may well have to deal with me through her, if I am otherwise occupied."
She endured Foley's scrutiny calmly. After a moment he nodded, then turned away.
"Sit down. You must all be tired. Fetch some bread, cheese and ale," he called to the shadows. One of them took shape, became a man and left the room. The MacGregors distributed themselves on various items of illicit merchandise, and waited. "We have to be careful," the smuggler said. He sounded tired. "There are dragoons scattered along the coast, waiting to arrest anyone suspicious. That's why I'm here rather than at the Hope. But I can ride there in less than a day, if the French fleet's sighted." The food arrived. They ate, gratefully.
"It's miscarrying," Gabriel said suddenly, and swore, expressively, something he would never normally do in the presence of a woman. Beth was gratified.
"What's happened?" said Alex calmly.
"I'm sorry. I'm frustrated. And angry. Very angry," said Gabriel. "I'll start at the beginning. You all know what's been arranged?"
"They know everything I do," Alex said.
"Well, then. It was decided that a man we'll call ‘Mr Red' was to gather together the English pilots with special knowledge of the waters around Dunkirk and sail there to join the French. Except that the bloody stupid so-called leaders panicked when they heard that all the Jacobites are being arrested, and decided in their cowardice that English pilots couldn't be trusted not to give them away. So they sent Mr Red to France with instructions to pick up some suitable pilots in the Picardy ports."
"That could work," said Duncan. "They'll ken the waters as well as the English pilots, if not better."
"Yes, it could work. But there was a problem."
"What's that?" asked Beth, chewing steadily. She hadn't eaten anything since the indigestible meal of the previous evening, and was starving.
"They insisted Red go alone, none of the rest of us being worthy of trust," Foley continued, his beefy fists clenching. "Overlooking the small but significant fact that Mr Red speaks only English, and as they didn't tell the French of their change of plan, no one was looking out for him. Can you believe it? He's just arrived back after spending three days looking for, and failing to find, the prince or any of the English contacts who had no idea he was there. It's like a bloody stage farce."
"Except it's no' funny," Alex said. "What possessed Mr. Red to agree to go to France alone, if he canna speak the language?"
"I have no idea," said Foley. "The man's a bloody idiot. The problem is that I'm now waiting to guide a French fleet up the Thames, which has no one to guide it from Dunkirk to the Hope. I'd go myself, except I'm not familiar enough with the tides in that part of France. I usually operate from Calais. I've not come to the worst of it, yet, though."
"It gets worse than this?" Angus said.
"It does. Rumour now has it that Louis is contemplating abandoning the whole venture, putting the blame on Prince Charles for riding to Paris and giving the game away to the British."
"Christ, maybe I should have knocked him on the head and dragged him back to Rome, after all," said Angus. Gabriel looked at him with curiosity.
"Jim rode to try to stop the prince coming to France, but met him en route and ended up accompanying him to Paris instead," Alex explained. "It's no' Charlie's fault. A spy at Louis' court has handed the invasion plans to the British. If Louis decides to blame the prince, it's because he's changed his mind and is looking for an excuse to back out without losing face."
"Why would he do that?" asked Beth.
"There could be all manner of reasons," said Alex. "Maybe he thinks he canna win, now the element of surprise is gone. Or maybe his ministers have convinced him that he'd be better concentrating all his forces in Flanders and Germany. It's never easy to tell what a devious bastard like Louis is thinking."
"Whatever he's thinking, it's not going to help if at the slightest hint of danger, all Charles's so-called supporters run for the hills in panic," said Gabriel disgustedly.
"Yet you're still here," Duncan said quietly, from the nest he had made in some burlap sacks. He had the ability to look relaxed and at home, wherever he was and whatever his true feelings.
"Yes, I am, Murdo. I'm not so easily scared, and neither are my men. I don't need to see James actually crowned before I come out to support him, like most of the English seem to, God rot them," Gabriel replied. "And I don't pay heed to rumours, although I listen to them. I'll not return to Hastings until I'm sure I won't be needed. The weather's getting up, though, which won't help the French chances of sailing."
"What do we do now?" Beth asked. They all looked at Alex.
"We gang away hame," he said simply. "I've been neglecting certain of my acquaintance of late. I think it's time I remedied that. I'll send ye word, Gabriel, when I have anything of interest to report."
"Would one of the acquaintances you've been neglecting be the Earl of Highbury, by any chance?" Beth asked as they rode home. She was exhausted. They had spent the daylight hours hidden in the basement room, where Alex, Duncan and Angus had shown themselves to be true Highlanders by throwing themselves down on a few sacks and going instantly to sleep, ears attuned to pay heed only to sounds which represented danger. Whereas Beth had tossed and turned on her makeshift bed of sacks and a horse blanket, kept awake by the comings and goings of the smugglers and now cursing the fact that Gabriel had clearly taken it that she wanted to be treated like a man in every respect. A woman would surely have normally been offered a more comfortable resting place.
"No, it wouldna. It was Geordie I was thinking of," said Alex. "Why do you say that?" He veered expertly to the left as her horse nudged his side. "Will ye pay heed to your riding, Beth? Ye'll have us off the road."
"Sorry," she said tiredly, pulling on the reins. "The earl said he knew you well, but you've never mentioned that you were a friend of his. And you engineered it so that I had to go into dinner with him. Why was that?"
He grinned.
"I thought ye'd noticed that," he said. "Aye, he's a friend, but I dinna see him often. I help him keep an eye on his son, on occasion. He knew I'd married, and was interested in meeting you. Particularly as ye'd captivated Daniel before me."
"Hmm," said Beth. "Is he a friend of Sir Anthony, or Alex?"
Alex looked at her.
"He is probably the best friend Sir Anthony has," he said. "Now will ye stop your blethering, woman, and look to your horse?"
After a while he gave up, and leaning over, hoisted her across onto his saddle and settled her in front of him, giving the care of her horse to Angus. Too tired to object, she drew comfort from the warmth of his body and his arm wrapped securely round her waist and after a while, lulled by the steady motion of the horse, she relaxed back into his chest, and slept.
It took several days to secure an audience with his Imperial Majesty King George the Second, or ‘yon wee German lairdie,' as he was more frequently and irreverently called in the MacGregor household. The aim was to find out as much information as possible about what was happening in France, and Beth was warned to keep her temper no matter how rudely she was treated by George.
"Your job," said Alex, "is to occupy Prince William, who is likely to also be there, while I re-establish my rapport wi' Georgie."
"How do you advise me to do that?" she asked.
"Oh, I dinna ken. Use your feminine wiles. Ye did well enough last time. He was very impressed by you."
"He wanted to have sex with me," Beth said bluntly. "So, you want me to seduce Cumberland then, while you chat with George and discover what the British are up to?" she said.