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She is in it up to her eyes. She was hiding someone up there. Why, it could be a French spy for all we know, here on the coast. You should have asked her about Jennet and the tray.”
    “She would only fabricate some story.”
    “What will you do, Sid? Best report her to Lady Dauntry, eh? Or Lord Dauntry. A shame to pester the old girl.”
    Cressida thought about it for a moment, then said, “No, I shan’t report her until I discover the whole. It may be perfectly innocent, a no-good son Tory has given a night’s lodging to, or some such thing. I have no wish to get her into trouble. And besides, a mystery will help to pass the time.”
    “Until my yacht arrives,” Beau added. “Meanwhile, why do we not take a drive into the village?”
    “Let us go riding instead. I need some exercise.”
    It had been settled that they were allowed to use the trails on Dauntry’s estate. She meant to keep well away from the castle, lest she be accused of trampling the grass, or disturbing Lady Dauntry. Mounted on their bays, they forgot about the mystery while they put the horses through their paces, with the sun warming their shoulders and a breeze cooling their brows.
    “Excellent riding! Trust Dauntry,” Beau exclaimed after he landed safely on the far side of a hedge.
    After a good run across country, Beau suggested they ride along the coast road to enjoy the ocean view. A sheer cliff fell steeply to the water below. They looked out on a sea of molten copper, glimmering peacefully in the sunlight.
    “It is a good thing the dower house has mooring facilities for the Sea Dog,” Beau said. “I believe the only place hereabouts with easy access to land is that cove on Dauntry’s estate. I wonder if it was used for smuggling.”
    “I doubt Lord Dauntry would permit it. Too toplofty.”
    “It would explain the man you saw at the cottage, though, and Dauntry’s not wanting you to go there.”
    “You are suggesting that Dauntry is aware of the smuggling, that he condones it?” she asked, surprised at such an allegation. Dauntry was a pillar of the political establishment. Had he been a Tory, he would certainly have been a cabinet minister.
    “I daresay he likes his brandy as well as the next fellow.”
    “No, it cannot be that. That does not account for the other mysteries, the gingerbread disappearing and my magazine being in the attic, and Jennet going to the cottage this morning. Surely it is all tied together somehow. We must keep our eyes and ears open, and see what we can discover, Beau.”
    “I mean to take a skim over to the cottage the next moonless night all the same, and see if a lugger don’t land its cargo. There must be some reason he is so bound and bent to keep you away. Either that, or he has a woman there.”
    “I shan’t wait that long before investigating. I mean to go tonight.”
    “Then let us take a spin into the village this afternoon to see what sort of a place it is.”
    * * * *
    Lord Dauntry was waiting for them in the saloon when they returned from their ride. They came in from the stable by the kitchen, thus not meeting Muffet, and found Lord Dauntry sitting at his ease, glancing through Cressida’s Lady’s Companion. Cressida stopped at the doorway and uttered an “Oh” of surprise.
    Dauntry rose and bowed. Even in his buckskins and top boots there was no mistaking him for a country gentleman. The cut of Weston’s handsome jacket marked him for an out and outer.
    “Thinking of becoming a modiste, Lord Dauntry?” Cressida asked.
    “Merely an admirer of ladies’ fashions,” he said, setting the magazine aside. “I hope I did not frighten you, ma’am?” His dark eyes made a quick perusal of his tenant. That burgundy riding habit was becoming to her black hair and fair skin. Unlike the empire gowns, it showed her lithe figure off to full advantage. His eyes skimmed appreciatively over her small waist and the feminine flare above and below. Her windblown hair was partially covered