Page 71 of The Noble Smuggler

She clasped her hands together tightly. “Would you tell me what you know of the night the Alouette went aground? If it’s not too painful for you, that is.”

He was silent for a moment, and Elizabeth worried that she’d overstepped her bounds. But she desperately needed to know what had happened that night, and Lord Langton was the person she most trusted to tell her the truth.

“Mr. Crawford arrived at Langton Manor to tell my father he feared the smugglers were luring a ship onto the rocks off the coast of Little Tilbury,” he began. “We did not know it at the time, but the Alouette had set sail from Calais earlier that day with a hold full of valuable merchandise.” He shifted in his seat. “To know that ahead of time, the smugglers must have had an informant in Calais.

“According to Bloxley, there was a crew of about a dozen men on board, but his family members were the only paying passengers. A few days after the shipwreck occurred, Mr. Allerton’s body was recovered, as was his son’s, but neither Mrs. Allerton’s nor Suzanne’s was ever found.”

“I . . . I see.”

“If you are indeed Miss Suzanne Allerton, the fact that you escaped death that night is nothing short of a miracle. For the smugglers, the items in the Alouette’s hold were a cache worth killing for.”

Elizabeth stared out the window at the shadowy countryside beyond. Was it possible that a young child could survive an experience that had cut short the lives of so many—including Lord Langton’s father?

“It makes no sense,” she said.

“Not yet,” he agreed. “But by the end of the day, perhaps it will.”

She nodded silently, her desire for answers burgeoning as her questions mounted. “I hope so.”

They stopped for breakfast and to change horses in Tenderton. While at the inn, Elizabeth attempted to tame her unruly curls into some semblance of order, but her wrinkled dress was quite beyond help. Lord Bloxley, who had undoubtedly had the best night’s sleep of the three of them, became more and more animated the closer they came to Little Tilbury. Lord Langton, on the other hand, lapsed into contemplative silence, and Elizabeth’s nervousness continued to build.

By the time they reached the outskirts of the village, it was early afternoon. A couple of young boys were sitting by the river fishing, and in one of the fields a shepherd wandered through his flock, his head moving from side to side as he counted his sheep. A dog barked as the carriage rolled by, and Elizabeth sat up straighter, bracing herself for what was to come.

“We should go directly to the church, I think,” Lord Bloxley said.

Elizabeth tilted her head to discern the position of the sun through the carriage windows. “I believe Mr. Parkin often takes tea with his wife at the parsonage in the afternoon,” she said. “I wonder if we might find him there.”

Lord Langton nodded. “A good point. Bloxley, why don’t you start at the church? If the vicar is there, have him pull the parish registers containing baptismal records from 1764 to 1767 and begin your search. If he’s not to be found, perhaps a deacon will be available to help. Miss Doyle and I will try the parsonage, and if he is at tea, we will ask him to accompany us to the church. Either way, we will join you posthaste.”

“Very well,” Lord Bloxley said. “And even if Miss Doyle has no plans to return to Little Tilbury after today, it might be for the best if we do not tell the vicar exactly what we are seeking or why.”

Lord Langton glanced at Elizabeth. She gave him a weak smile. “Agreed,” he said.

When the village church came into view. Lord Bloxley rapped on the carriage roof with his walking stick and the vehicle rumbled to a stop in front of the churchyard. Lord Bloxley stepped out first. He was followed by Lord Langton, who then extended his hand to help Elizabeth alight.

“I shall see you shortly,” the earl said, releasing the latch on the church gate.

“Good luck,” Lord Langton said.

“And to you,” Lord Bloxley replied.

Lord Langton offered Elizabeth his arm. With her social standing still in question, he did not need to, but she appreciated his gesture more than she could say. His steadying presence might be the only thing that enabled her to endure what lay ahead.

They walked the short distance past the churchyard to the parsonage next door. The sun was warm on her shoulders, and it felt good to stretch her legs after being confined to the carriage for so long. Tweeting loudly, a couple of goldfinches weaved a circular dance above the parsonage’s privet hedge.

“Friends of yours?” Lord Langton asked.

Elizabeth smiled. “But of course. One of the last times I was here, I interrupted Miss Goldfinch taking a dip in Mrs. Parkin’s birdbath.”

He chuckled. “No sense of propriety, those goldfinches. Blackbirds are far more polite.”

Elizabeth’s smile widened. “Thank you,” she said.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “For what, pray tell?”

“For putting me at ease once again. You do it masterfully.”

He smiled. “I think the goldfinches should claim most of the credit, don’t you?”