by Jayne Davis
Would it be the same for him?
What was she thinking? The light wasn’t bright, but even so Will had seen the way her eyes had moved from his face, down his body and back again. His fatigue began to drop away.
“You look as if you should be in bed,” Connie said. “You must be tired.”
Disappointment stabbed him. He’d hoped she’d been as happy to see him as he was to see her.
He pushed himself out of the chair. She was right, of course. He did need his rest, and now was not the time to ask if she’d changed her mind. “I’ll see you in the—”
“This bed, if you wish.”
He was halfway through the connecting door before her softly spoken words sank in. He spun on his heel, almost losing his balance.
“Connie?”
She was between him and the lamp, its light shining through the thin fabric of her chemise and showing the outline of her body, the curve of her hips.
Chemise? She’d been wearing a robe over it.
His body came to full attention, the last traces of tiredness vanishing.
“Connie?” he said again, taking a step towards her. “What did you say?”
“I…”
He heard her indrawn breath as she wrapped her arms around her body.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You must be tired.”
God, no. Not any more.
He took another step forwards and put one hand on her shoulder. “I’m not tired, Connie. Tell me what you want.”
The lamp light no longer made her a silhouette. He resolutely kept his eyes on her face, not on the effect her deep breaths were having beneath her chemise.
“A month is a long time,” she said.
“Have you changed your mind?” Hope warred with caution; he wanted her, of course, but only if she truly was willing. If she, too, wanted their joining.
“Yes. I mean… yes, but…” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m not making sense.”
He couldn’t help it—he touched his hand to her hair, stroking gently, the silken feel of it making his breath catch. She closed her eyes, and he felt the tension in her relax.
“Just a kiss, if you wish?” That would take some self-control on his part, but he mustn’t frighten her, not when she’d had the courage to approach him.
She stood still, then took a small step towards him, putting her hands on his shoulders and tilting her face up. He bent and brushed her lips with his own, then ran his tongue along her bottom lip.
“Open?” he requested, his voice barely a whisper.
The touch of his lips was so light it almost tickled; his breath, when he spoke, was warm on her face. She let her lips part.
The feel of his tongue in her mouth made her stiffen in surprise, even as it sent a jolt of warmth right down to her belly, and he instantly drew back.
No—she wanted more of the way he’d made her feel, more of the warmth spreading through her. She moved one hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck, then the other, pulling him closer until their bodies touched.
This time their kiss was deeper, longer, leaving her breathless and holding onto him for support as her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. He lifted his head, releasing her then taking a step back.
“Connie, if you only want a kiss, we have to stop now.” His eyes glittered in the lamplight, lids half-closed. His voice sounded hoarse, his breathing as ragged as her own.
“I don’t want to stop.” She put her hand out, laying it on one cheek, feeling the slight scratchiness of his stubble. His throat moved as he swallowed, and she slid her hand down his neck, then to his shoulder beneath his shirt, feeling the heat from his skin, the movement of his chest as he sucked in a breath.
He reached up to the wide neck of her chemise; one hand went under it, stroking the top of her shoulder and pushing the garment down one arm.
“Time for bed?” he whispered.
Chapter 36
Will awoke to a shaft of sunlight through a gap in the curtains. Beside him, Connie slept in a curl, her back against his arm. Last night had sorely tried his control, curbing his lust, waiting until she was ready. He’d wanted to ensure she enjoyed it as much as he did.
It had been a joy to be the one to introduce her to the pleasures of the marriage bed. Unsure at first, she had soon relaxed and responded to his touch, exploring and touching him in her turn. Watching her reactions as she discovered the ways their bodies differed, and the many things they could do to give each other pleasure, had been more arousing than any of the women he’d toyed with in the past.
The sky had shown the first lightening of dawn by the time they finally turned to sleep. That could not have been long ago, for the sun was still low in the sky.
Connie would not have to see the man in the cellar for another hour or so, he thought, enjoying the way the sunlight glowed on her skin, picking out threads of gold in her hair. Turning onto his side, he raised himself on one elbow and watched what he could see of her face, stroking his hand gently down her back. She stirred, stretched, then stilled; when she turned her face to him her smile was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
He knew he’d pay the price at some point, but he could think of better things to do with the next hour than sleep.
Connie reluctantly left Will in bed, dozing again, and crept into her dressing room. Although sated and relaxed in body, her mind had started to worry over the things to be done that day, and there was nothing for it but to get up and pay her usual early morning visit to the spy.
She paused as she caught sight of the yellow gown, and swallowed a lump in her throat. “Did you think about what would happen before you lay with my father?” she whispered, fingering the fabric of her mother’s gown. If it hadn’t been for the Fancotts, she could have been divorced, cast off completely, and until now Connie had never understood why her mother had taken such a risk. “If you loved him, I know why you did it.”
Blinking away a sudden prickling of tears, she pulled on the muslin gown and pinned the front. She had things to do.
In the cellar, Warren said there’d been no change in the man’s condition, and she sent the butler to get his breakfast. The spy’s outer clothing was still piled in one corner, and once she had checked he was asleep, she swiftly extracted the dummy packet and tucked it up her sleeve. Then she added an extra drop of laudanum to his tea before rousing him to drink it, wanting him to still be sound asleep when she returned the papers.
“He seems a little more restless,” she said to Warren when he returned. “I’ll come back in an hour to see how he’s getting on.”
Warren nodded and settled into the chair.
In her parlour, Connie had the new papers sewn into their covering by the time she heard Barton laying out the breakfast things next door. She stowed the packet beneath the tray in her sewing box, and was tidying away the needles and thread when she heard Will’s voice in the next room telling Barton he was no longer needed.
“Good morning, my lady,” Will said as she entered, his smile warming her insides. He held a chair for her, then passed coffee and rolls.
Connie blushed as she took a fresh roll. Their fingers hadn’t touched, but even his presence at the breakfast table had brought to mind some of the things he’d done in the night. And things she’d done.
“Have you been to see our spy?” Will asked, keeping his voice low.
“Yes.” Connie took a deep breath, turning her mind back to the problems they still faced.
“We can get rid of him today, with any luck,” Will said. “I’ll tell Warren he’s been here long enough. You could order Warren to have all the cellar rooms swept out and cleaned, ready for me to inspect tomorrow. Say I’m thinking of restocking with wine.”
“So he has a reason to give for getting the spy taken away.”
“Yes. I don’t know who’ll send the message, but as all the staff will hear about it, I’m sure someone will. Sandow doesn’t know, I hope, that I know the sp
y is here. With any luck, they’ll get him off to France tonight.”
Connie went over his plan in her head. It was as good as anything she could think of. “May we go for a walk afterwards? I have been in the house for three days. If you are not too tired, that is.”
“I…” He broke off and shook his head. “I would like to, but I don’t think it is advisable.”
“Sandow?”
“I’m afraid so, yes.”
That was a pity; it was frustrating having to stay indoors in such lovely weather.
“We could walk around the gardens, if you wish,” Will offered. “Or have a table and chairs set under the trees in the orchard and read.”
“I’d like that, thank you.”
“Connie, I want to go and watch again tonight, to see if there’s any sign of the spy being taken away. I’d hoped to have you to myself all night.” His smile made clear exactly what he was thinking of. “But I also want to see for myself that he’s gone.”
“Best to know he’s gone,” she agreed. “You won’t be away all night, will you?” Something made her run her tongue across her lip, and his gaze became intent.
“Temptress,” he muttered. “No, I definitely will not be out all night.”
Good.
He finished his coffee, and set the cup back in the saucer. “Connie, I need to see Archer, then I’m afraid I still have the estate books to look through. It seems to take an age for each farm, there are so many years’ worth.” He stood and came around the table, laying one hand on her shoulder. “This business will soon be over. Don’t worry.” He dropped a brief kiss on her forehead, and left the room.
A proper kiss would have been better. It was probably just as well he hadn’t; it would not do to return to bed so soon.
Will found Mercury munching hay, not looking any the worse for last night’s long ride. Archer appeared as he stroked the animal’s neck.
“Archer, come and have a look at this fetlock.”
“He seemed happy enough last night, my lord,” Archer said, as he hurried over. A worried frown deepened the shadows beneath his eyes.
“He is.” Will lowered his voice. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Ah.”
Will briefly explained what was to be done with the letters and the spy. “How will we know when the man has gone?” he asked.
Archer thought for a moment, one hand rubbing his face as he suppressed a yawn. “Danny Trasker came back, wanted to help.”
“Can a child of that age help?”
“Could be handy for keeping watch, my lord. I’ll have a word with him—where he’s hiding, he’ll see anyone going to the house.”
“Good idea. Have you heard any more gossip in the village?”
“Only been to the pub once, my lord,” Archer said. “Been keeping watch up here, mostly.”
“Thank you, Archer. I won’t forget it.”
“I did hear more about Sandow,” Archer continued. “He’s a real nasty character. It won’t do to underestimate him. The other two usually with him, Kelly and Hall, well, all the ones I spoke to reckoned Sandow was the main brains there. There ain’t many people that like him, but they get a bit of extra from the smuggling, and they’re frightened to cross him.”
“They talked quite freely to you, did they?”
“One or two, once they were half-sprung, like, now they’re used to seeing me down there.”
“See if you can find out what goods are in a typical smuggling run, and how much of them. I’ll give you more drinking money later. Danny—he might be able to tell you more about the villagers as well, possibly the smuggling.”
“I’ll ask him, my lord. The last cargo, they got it all sorted that same night, after the redcoats had gone, but Sandow was in a tearing temper.”
“About the disruption?”
Archer shook his head. “They didn’t know why. They’ve had run-ins with the preventatives before, all part of the business. Sandow don’t care as long as the goods get through.”
“So do you think no-one else knows about our spy? Apart from Sandow, that is.”
“Likely one or two do, or they guess, but it’s not common knowledge.”
“Well done, Archer.”
“My lord, d’you reckon they’ll take the spy off tonight?”
“If they’ve any sense. If the spying part of Sandow’s operation is a secret, they won’t want a foreigner hanging around the village for too long. He’s late, as well. We should go and watch, to check.” Will caught the slight grimace that crossed Archer’s face. “Go to bed, man, you look like you need it.”
Archer nodded, giving Mercury a final pat before he left.
Will went back to stroking Mercury’s neck, then found a brush and started grooming him, even though Archer had done a good job the night before. The rhythmic movement helped him to think.
To take over the smuggling, he needed to persuade the villagers to help get rid of Sandow, and then to throw in their lot with him. Demonstrating how much profit Sandow made compared to the pittance he’d passed on could help with that. Facts—he needed to know how much each run brought in, and how much the villagers made from it. He’d get Archer to find out quantities, then he could use the information he’d got from Pendrick and Nancarrow to work out the profits.
Warren was used to Connie sending him for a break when she called on the spy, so the replacement of the letters went smoothly. She stayed with the man for half an hour, and when Warren returned she passed on the order to clear the cellars.
She spent the next few hours working on her summer gown. Progress was slow, her fingers frequently stilling as memories of last night kept intruding. Will found her there in the early afternoon, and she put her sewing aside eagerly.
“Will you come out to the garden?” he asked.
A table had been set beneath one of the larger apple trees, its leafy canopy providing cool shade. A jug of lemonade and plates of sandwiches and small cakes were laid ready for them.
“This looks lovely. Thank you, Will.” She sat in the chair he held for her, a feeling of lightness filling her at being able to share the beauty of the day with her husband. The man she loved.
Will passed the sandwiches, and she filled her plate. “Can we do this often?”
“By all means,” Will said, the smile in his eyes making her blush. “If the spy’s taken to France tonight, I want to go to Exeter tomorrow, to see Kellet about drawing up my will. Would you like to come with me?”
“Yes, please, I’d love to.” Spending the day with him, and getting away from the house for a while—what could be better?
“I thought about taking a room at an inn for a couple of nights,” he went on. “We can go about Exeter without worrying about Sandow. You can attend a service in the cathedral on Sunday, if you wish. There are dress shops, bookshops…”
“Oh, Will, that would be wonderful.” New things to see together. Away from Ashton Tracey, she might be able to forget about the smugglers for a while.
“Don’t say anything to the servants, though. Just pack a bag tomorrow morning. That way no-one can give Sandow notice that we’ll be on the road.”
She would forget about it once they were away from here, if he didn’t talk about it.
Will reached across the table, and took her hand in his, his thumb making small circles on her palm. “I’m sorry, Connie. I’m doing my best to keep you safe.”
“I know.”
“I was thinking—if I’ve got to be out tonight it would be as well to take a little nap now. Catch up on my sleep a little.” He smiled, a wicked curve of the lips with that attractive crinkling next to his eyes. “Do you need a little lie down too?”
She felt her face heat. “Perhaps I do.”
Will lay with Connie’s head on his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest. A gentle breeze from the open window cooled his heated skin as his breathing slowed, his body settling into relaxed contentment.
After a while, his thoughts
returned to the present. As they were returning to the house, Archer had come to report. He’d spotted two people entering the front of the house while Will had been in the orchard with Connie, then three people leaving. Will turned his head to look out of the window. The sky was taking on the purple shades of dusk, but there must still be another couple of hours before dark and the possible departure of their spy.
It suddenly struck Will that a small boat with no obvious cargo would not be seized for smuggling, even if a revenue cutter stopped it. By that argument there was nothing preventing them from putting out in daylight. He might already have missed watching it leave.
He should go now. Damn.
“Connie, I need to set off,” he said.
“Mmm?” She opened her eyes. “Go to watch?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
She sighed, then raised herself on one elbow and leaned over, briefly pressing her lips against his. “Go carefully.”
Will stopped abruptly at the edge of the woods, Archer almost running into him from behind. There was something different about their lookout clearing… someone was already there. As he watched, the shape melted into the shadows.
“It’s only Danny, my lord,” Archer said, keeping his voice low. “I thought they might take the man off right away, so I sent him up.” He raised his voice a little. “Danny, it’s us.”
Will heard a rustle, and Danny appeared on the path in front of them.
“Nothing’s gone out, Mr Archer, my lord.”
“Well done, lad,” Archer said. “We’ll take over now. I’ve left more food in the usual place.”
Danny nodded and trotted off into the woods.
“Thank you, Archer. I should have thought of that myself.” He’d been too busy wooing his wife. He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. This spy business wasn’t a game—he had to keep his mind on the matter at hand.
