Free Hidden in the Heart by Beth Andrews Page A

sensible.
    ‘Perhaps that is because you are behaving so childishly,’ he replied, with the conscious superiority of one who was three years her elder.
    In the end, she accepted the fact that their expedition must wait. At least they were on their usual friendly terms: or almost so. Something had changed, though she was not exactly sure what it might be.
    * * * *
    When the day arrived, Lydia was more nervous than her aunt, checking the clock and starting at every sound. She told herself that she was being absurd. This was not the first time she had accompanied John on such an expedi tion. There was nothing to fear, was there?
    Still, there was a feeling of intense relief when she finally escaped from the confines of the cottage that night and made her way to the same spot where she had met John before. Since their journey to the wood covered the same ground, descriptions are superfluous. The only differ ence was that the moon was no longer full, and so their vision was more limited than previously.
    For some time their experience was drearily similar. Lydia was no longer disturbed by the strange night sounds, and was very nearly about to fall asleep once more when a sharp nudge from John’s elbow alerted her that they were no longer alone in the woods. Almost simultaneously, she heard a rustling in the underbrush, as if a large animal were pushing its way unceremoniously through the trees. Dried twigs crackled beneath heavy boots and muted voices appeared to be carrying on patches of conversation. She almost squealed - not from fear but from sheer excitement - before common sense came to her aid and kept her silent.
    There was a swoosh-swooshing sound, and Lydia saw two white, billowing objects sailing through the trees. A wailing sound accompanied them as they described a wide arc in the darkness. They certainly were not birds. Any one of the villagers would have sworn they saw a ghost; but with the knowledge that other humans were in the woods, Lydia knew that the explanation for these apparitions was a natural one.
    A twinkle of lanterns through the trees made it fairly easy to spot where their quarry was at any time. However, it was as well that they were expecting them. A chance traveller, or an inebriated gentleman, would very likely have run like a rabbit in the opposite direction - which was probably the exact effect which they intended.
    At one point the shadowy figures with their small lanterns were only two or three yards away from Lydia’s and John’s hiding place. They hunched low to the ground, knowing that if they were caught by these desperate men they might share the same fate as the late Mr Cole.
    ‘D’ye see the entrance yet?’ one of the men asked gruffly.
    ‘Almost there, Ben,’ his confederate replied.
    ‘Nobody about tonight.’
    ‘Wasted a bloody good show,’ another said with a loud guffaw of laughter.
    Then the voices faded, along with the lights. The stillness was suffocating.
    ‘Shall we go now?’ Lydia whispered.
    ‘No,’ John whispered back. ‘They may return this way. We’ll have to stay here until we’re sure they’re gone. And keep quiet,’ he added unnecessarily.
    John was correct in his surmise. About an hour later, another procession of lamps and voices passed by them in the opposite direction, heading out of the woods. Only when the last of them was well out of earshot did the two watchers rise from their cramped position on the woodland floor.
    ‘Oh John!’ Lydia cried at last. ‘We were right: there are smugglers in the woods.’
    In her excitement, she threw her arms around his large frame and hugged him tightly. Inevitably, he did the same. But as she looked up into his face, barely visible in the faint moonlight, she was quite unprepared for what happened next.
    John bent his head and pressed his lips to hers in what was quite a tolerable kiss. Lydia was not certain what she should do. However, since she found the experience very pleasant, she returned it. Mama