“He’s certainly clever enough to get out of sight while he’s waiting for the tide to turn.” Dalziel was once again circling. “I suggest we resist the temptation to search further. The last thing we want is to let him know we’re here, preparing to pounce.”
Pausing, he met Gervase’s eye, then glanced at Charles and Christian. “This may well be our last and best chance to catch this blackguard—we know he’ll be in that cove tonight. We should focus on taking him then. If he learns we’re near, in the neighborhood, despite his desire for his cargo his instinct for self-preservation might yet be strong enough to make him bolt.”
The others nodded.
Madeline opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Gervase added, “And he does have Edmond.”
Dalziel nodded, reassuringly grim. “Indeed.”
Penny joined Madeline by the side of the room; together, they listened—Madeline suspected both of them critically—while the final dispositions were made. As well as Gervase and this three friends, Abel was there, along with Gervase’s head stableman, one of Abel’s brothers, Gregson the bailiff, and a selection of others.
Christian wasn’t especially at home on the waves; he was the obvious choice to command their land forces—the small band of grooms, farmers, gardeners and laborers they’d assembled.
“So we block the road here.” Leaning over the map, Christian put his finger on a particular spot. Craning past the various shoulders, Madeline saw he’d indicated a place just south of Cross Lanes.
“There’s a curve and a dip,” Gervase said. “He’ll be on the downward slope heading toward you by the time he sees you.”
Christian nodded. “I’ll station enough men there to stop a curricle as soon as we get there, just in case for some reason he gets the wind up and flees early, but assuming he’ll be on the beach at least until you make your move, I’ll take the rest of the men and scout around. It might be wise, given the area we’re trying to secure, to make sure there are no horses available for him to commandeer, in case he gets away from us at the beach.”
Dalziel nodded curtly. “We take all possible precautions.” He studied the map, then grimaced. “As you so rightly point out, the area is big—any net we fashion will necessarily have big holes. If he slips past us at the cove and doesn’t take his curricle, it’s not going to be easy to prevent him escaping.”
“But this,” Gervase said, “is the best we can do.”
The others nodded.
“So”—Gervase looked at Charles—“to the action on the beach.”
He and Charles had the most experience with smugglers and skirmishes, if not outright battles, on beaches, waged from the sea.
Charles wrinkled his nose. “I can’t see any point in carrying pistols, can you?”
Gervase shook his head. “Too wet, not terribly useful at such close quarters given how confused it’s bound to be, and not useful enough given the numbers we’ll face.”
“Unlik
ely any of them will be carrying pistols either.” Charles grinned, a distinctly anticipatory wolfish expression. “So it’s blades—swords, cutlasses, daggers.”
Both Abel and his brother were nodding.
Gervase glanced at them. “There’s a small armory here. I’m assuming your men will have their own weapons, but we can make sure everyone in the boats is well equipped.”
“Aye,” Abel said. “We might need a few extra blades, just to cover things.”
“Right.” Dalziel shifted. “Now for the timing.”
Madeline noted the puzzled glances Christian, Charles and Gervase threw him—and the subsequent flick of their eyes to her and Penny—before they followed their ex-commander’s lead.
She narrowed her eyes. They weren’t going to discuss the details of the assault on the beach in front of her and Penny.
Beside her Penny humphed, obviously having come to the same conclusion. Glancing at her, Madeline saw Penny’s gaze boring into her husband; she intended getting the details from him later.
Madeline looked at Gervase, considered, then she arched a brow at Penny. “I think I’ll go and organize with Sybil to have dinner brought forward. Coming?”
Bending a distinctly jaundiced look at the males gathered about the desk, Penny sniffed. “I may as well.”
They left the room on their appropriately ladylike mission, but once the early dinner had been organized, Madeline slipped back into the library, this time alone. She drifted to the far end of the room and stood looking out, plainly not attempting to overhear the men’s plans.
She didn’t need to hear them; she was more than capable of planning herself.