My Lady Smuggler Read Online Free Page B

do so again.  “I need to infiltrate your crew, Tolly,” he said, taking a chance that in a village this small Tolly was in on the smuggling.  “The government wants to use your fishing boat to relay dispatches to and from the continent.”
    Melvyr n paused and waited for a response.  But the huge fisherman only stared back at him.  Finally, Melvyrn broke the silence.  “You’re not saying much?”
    “D on’t see the point.  Seeing you’s a surprise, too.”  A huge grin split the solemn face, his large teeth showing white against his black bristly beard and head.  “Never thought to be no government agent, either.”  His eyes glinted with merriment when Melvyrn let out a laugh.
    “So, Tolly, do I call you Captain?”
    The smile slowly left Tolly’s face.  “Well now, that I don’t know.”
    Melvyrn arched one eyebrow in question.  When the fisherman returned the look with a shake of his bushy head, he began to have doubts about the situation.  Maybe Tolly wasn’t the captain of the fishing boat.  If not, that meant his old sergeant could be somehow enmeshed with a French spy network.  But this scenario just did not fit with what Melvyrn knew of the man’s character.
    “Come on, Tolly.  Out with it,” Melvyrn growled, deciding to tackle the issue head on.  “You’re in cahoots with the ring they call the ‘mercy smugglers,’ aren’t you?”
    Hesitating only for a moment, the burly seaman seemed to increase in size as he sat straighter, squaring his massive shoulders.  “Aye, that I am.”
    “Are you the leader?”
    “Aye.  I could take you on a run, let you see how we work.  But that ain’t the problem.”
    “Then, what the devil is?  If you vouch for me, isn’t your word good enough for your men?”
    “Damn well better be or I’d be lopping off some heads!” Tolly bellowed.  Melvyrn leveled his eyes on him, and Tolly shifted his considerable bulk uneasily.  “It ain’t for me to decide, Major.”
    “Call me Phillips.  It’s close enough to my middle name that I won’t have trouble answering to it.  Besides, I’ll be taking orders from you shortly.”  Tolly had to understand how important the situation was with English lives at stake every day this stinking war went on. 
    “We don’t need an extra hand.  The men’ll likely talk if I bring you in.”
    “Get this straight, Tolly,” Melvyrn said in a deadly serious tone. “You may be the captain of a gang of smugglers instead of leading a platoon of men under me up a Spanish hill, but this is still wartime.  Consider yourself still under my command and get me in.  Have I made myself clear, Sergeant Tolliver?”
    “Aye, Major, that you have.” 

 
***  Chapter 3  ***
    After two days passed without any word from his old sergeant, Melvyrn began to think Tolly was deliberately avoiding him.  Therefore, the third morning he hung about the village, keeping an eye out for the burly seaman.  He even went to see Gladys Tolliver, a tall, raw boned dame with a kind face and an even kinder smile.
    “Luther’s about here somewhere,” she told Melvyrn after he left a message for Tolly to meet him at the Eight Bells Inn.  “He’ll not be far away when it’s nigh on to dinnertime.”
    “Please give him my message, Mrs. Tolliver, and be sure to stress it’s urgent,” Melvyrn instructed after accepting a handful of freshly baked gingersnaps.
    An hour later, with a tankard of ale for company, Melvyrn sat at a table and waited for Tolly to show.  This time of day, the Eight Bells was empty.  Glancing out a window that overlooked the main street he saw a young woman coming out of a shop.  The wind caught her blue poke bonnet, revealing her shiny light brown curls.  She stopped and tucked the package she was carrying under her arm, then adjusted her hat.  She was neatly dressed in a blue woolen gown and a short black cape.   Those eyes reminded him of someone, but who?  Then, the tilt of her chin