A Shocking Delight

by Beverley, Jo

  “Is that, too, made here?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes,” Amelia said, suddenly anxious. “I’m sure you’re used to better. . . .”

  “Heavens, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply a criticism. I think it’s wonderful that you make everything yourself.”

  “Do you? It’s such a treat when we purchase something. I get a bar of French soap for Christmas every year. I suppose you’re accustomed to be surrounded by shops.”

  “I’m afraid so. But not surrounded by such lovely countryside.” Lucy almost laughed at saying that, but she had to say something of the sort, and thus far the countryside hadn’t attacked her.

  Amelia perched on the edge of the bed, swinging her feet. “Is it normal for a London lady to travel alone?” It was simply open curiosity.

  “I was escorted by a Mr. Delaney.”

  Amelia grinned. “I heard. Up to something, I’m sure.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just the way he is. He’s very exciting, isn’t he?”

  “David?”

  “Nicholas! If he weren’t married, I might set my cap at him.”

  Lucy opened her valise and took out items to put in drawers. “He’s good-looking, I suppose, but I’ve never really thought of him that way.”

  “That’s love for you, isn’t it? I’m so pleased David’s found a woman who loves him. I worried about his fortune hunting.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “Oh, everyone here knows about everything. Never think to keep a secret.”

  “Even about smuggling?” Lucy asked, but then wondered if that was wise.

  But Amelia answered without hesitation. “Secret from outsiders, of course, but not amongst ourselves.”

  After a moment’s consideration Lucy asked, “Does everyone know who Captain Drake is?”

  Something warned that she might have gone too far, but then Amelia said, “Of course. He couldn’t have much authority otherwise, could he?”

  “Authority involving life and death?”

  “Even that.”

  “That’s almost feudal.”

  “I suppose it is. There are aspects to life here that are from olden times, but don’t let it worry you. We’re generally perfectly civilized.”

  Lucy slid her journal beneath her spare shift in the drawer. “I overheard something up at Crag Wyvern. About some smugglers near Purbeck mistreating a woman because her husband defied them.”

  “Tom Merriwether’s boys,” Amelia said, pulling a face. “A horrible gang. I wish Lloyd—he’s the riding officer—would put an end to them instead of harassing peaceable people here.”

  “Peaceable criminals?”

  “Well, they are! For more than fifty years a Captain Drake has ruled the Dragon’s Horde here, ensuring no harm done to anyone.”

  “Life and death?” Lucy asked.

  “Sometimes they need bringing into order . . . but David will be cross with me for talking of such things.”

  “If I’m to live here, I have to know.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Lucy turned to put away the last of her clothing.

  “Does it bother you?” Amelia asked.

  Lucy turned. “What?”

  “The Freetrade. Visitors here are odd. Some disapprove, but most think it exciting and many hint for sources of cheap brandy and such.”

  “I can’t like the illegality, or the barbarity.”

  “Nothing here is barbarous, I assure you.”

  “I suppose I’ll learn the local ways.”

  “It’s lovely that you’re so sensible, Lucy. I was worried that David would bring back a fancy London fashionable who’d turn her nose up at everything. What’s it like, living in a city?”

  That seemed an impossible question to answer, but Lucy did her best. Her accounts of shops and street lighting were greeted like stories of dragons and fairies.

  “Have you never been to a city?” she asked at last.

  “No further than Honiton or Axminster,” Amelia said. “There’s never been any need. But I would like to see London.”

  “You could return with me for a visit.”

  “You’re going back?”

  “I must. My father marries soon, and there will be arrangements to make.”

  “For your own wedding.”

  “Yes.”

  Lucy was realizing that David should return with her. He needed to ask formally for her father’s permission. It wasn’t necessary since she was of age, but he’d want to do it and her father would certainly expect it. They could attend her father’s wedding together, and be together for the first reading of their banns. That would mean traveling together, and not having to be apart.

  “Then I’d love to return with you,” Amelia said. “What fun!”

  The vision of an intimate journey shattered, but it might be better. Amelia would be a testament to propriety. “Would your parents permit it?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “You’ll need to be careful when there.”

  “Is it very dangerous?” Amelia, too, looked as if she thought danger could be exciting.

  “In some places, but I was thinking of the heart. You might fall in love with a London man, or a lord whose home is in Scotland.”

  Amelia laughed. “I’d never do that. I’ll marry close to home.”

  Lucy remembered once saying something similar. “Love can be a complication.”

  Amelia studied her. “Is your loving David a complication? This must be very different to what you’re used to.”

  “Yes and yes, but love is compensation enough.”

  “Love and family,” Amelia agreed, standing. “There’s family everywhere here, on all sides. Kerslakes, Bubbingtons—that’s mother’s family—and even the Clysts and their connections.”

  “I’m not accustomed to that.”

  “You’ll find you like it overall. There are always the difficult ones and the dirty dishes, but family is wonderful.”

  When they went downstairs David came into the hall to meet them. “All settled?” he asked Lucy.

  “In your old room.”

  She realized that room hadn’t only been a boyhood sanctum, but his until last year, when he’d become the earl.

  She took his hand. “We’ll make a lovely and loving home, David. We will. Even a garden and roses.”

  He raised her hand and kissed it. “We can try. I doubt we can manage an orchard, though. Come, let me show you the one here.”

  No one seemed to object, so Lucy went happily with him back out through the front door and around the house.

  Chapter 33

  She found not just a flower garden, but also herbs and some fruits and vegetables. He led her over to a patch of raspberries. He picked some and offered them in his cupped hand.

  Lucy took one and ate it, sweet and warm from the sun. “I’ve never tasted any as good.”

  He poured them into her hand and she ate them as they followed a path between plants large and small. Some she knew, but most she didn’t.

  “We have a garden at home, but grow few vegetables.”

  “Surrounded by shops and markets, what point would there be?”

  “Amelia would like to come with us to London.”

  “Don’t let her pester you.”

  He took her hand and led her beneath a fragrant honeysuckle arch to a deeper part of the garden. “Come and be kissed beneath a cherry tree.” They went through a gate. “Not much is edible yet, but there are cherries.” He reached up for a bunch.

  She took them, smiling. “I like this.”

  “Being plied with fruit?”

  “Courting. We are, aren’t we? Strolling together in the gardens, nearby but out of sight, as we learn one another and learn to please one another.”

  “Courting. Inside out again, but yes, sweet. I remember thinking I’d like to bring you here and pick cherries for you. And see you here in springtime with blossoms in your hair.�
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  They came together for a kiss as natural as breathing. When they parted she said, “It won’t always be sunny and mild.”

  “No,” he agreed, but puzzled.

  “I was simply reminding myself not to be entirely bedazzled.” She popped a cherry in her mouth and savored it. “You were going to tell me secrets, David. Let’s get it over with.”

  “Like a trip to the dentist?”

  “It feels very like, yes.”

  He led her to a wooden bench and they sat beneath an apple tree. The small fruits were only tiny promises, but she’d be here in autumn to taste them when they were full and ripe. Yet still she felt his doubts and even reluctance.

  “If the secrets belong to others,” she said, “if it would be dishonorable to share them, then don’t. Even a husband and wife can sometimes keep secrets like that.”

  “I’d rather you know everything before you commit yourself.”

  “I’m committed. Nothing can change that.”

  “Rash woman.”

  Then, suddenly, she knew.

  Pieces fell into place.

  His sober tone now, snatches of conversations overheard, the encounter with Saul Applin.

  “David, are you Captain Drake?”

  He blinked once, but she saw the answer before he said, “I knew you were too clever to be safe.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “The pressing reason I’ve been trying to break free of you, Lucy Potter, is that I knew from the first that I’d never be able to fool you over anything.”

  “Of course not, and I should have realized sooner. That’s the dragon!”

  “What?”

  She took his hand. “David, earl, and dragon.”

  “You always make sense, love, but at the moment you remind me of Clara Fytch.”

  “I’ve come to see three parts to you—David, the earl, and another part I haven’t understood that I called the dragon. Now I see what it is. ‘Drake’ is another word for dragon, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and as I’ve told you, the dragon is dangerous.”

  “To men like Saul,” she said.

  “And to men like Lloyd.”

  “You wouldn’t kill him, would you?”

  “No,” he sighed. “Why are you smiling?”

  “Because that’s a relief, but also because this is the final piece of the problem. The key. I thought you were reluctant to marry me because of the madness in your blood, but that was solved. And that I wouldn’t like Devon, but I know I can come to like it. Then perhaps because of the danger from smugglers. But it was because you’re the smugglers’ leader. Though I don’t see exactly why that’s an obstacle.”

  “Perhaps I thought you might object to being married to a criminal? I was convinced at one point that you’d report me to the magistrates. You seemed ardently against the Freetrade.”

  “I was. I am. It undermines law and order and damages legitimate trade. But I’d never betray you.”

  “I know that now. But, Lucy, I could get caught. Probably as earl I’d escape prosecution, but if anything went that badly wrong, I could be killed. You’d not only be a widow, but one entangled in scandal.”

  “You will not be killed. You will not. But I don’t understand. Why do you have to be Captain Drake?”

  “Inheritance. The bane of my life. As Mel Clyst’s son, the mantle fell on me. Though he indulged my interest in smuggling and let me take part, he never wanted me deeply involved. He was pleased to see me in the gentry with an honest job. He’d trained his nephew John Clyst from a young age to take over, but in the run that went wrong Mel was taken and John was killed. There was no one else to hold the Horde together and prevent chaos.”

  “That was more than a year ago, though, wasn’t it?”

  “Nearly two years ago, but finding a substitute wasn’t urgent until I took on the earldom, and since then I’ve been rather busy. It’s no easy matter. Most smuggling masters are simple men, but that’s why there’s so often poor organization and wanton violence. To keep order and prosperity, Captain Drake has to have a range of qualities from administration to the ability to enforce stern discipline.”

  “A clerkish dragon, or a dragonish clerk.”

  “He must also be accepted by the Horde. Mel inherited from his father, and he treated John as a son. That’s the best way. If he’d married an ordinary woman, his son or sons would have been natural heirs. But he fell in thrall to Lady Belle.”

  “That’s a harsh way of putting it.”

  “Everything would be better if she’d followed a normal path. But as it turned out, I was the only one with the abilities and bloodline to take over.”

  “But you must be training a substitute now.”

  “They’re not so easy to find. There are good, reliable men, but not ready for the role. I’m stuck with it for a while, Lucy, and you have to know that. It’s a difficult and dangerous situation.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I think two dreadful inheritances very unfair.”

  “So do I, but I’ve had no choice.”

  “You’re a hero, David Kerslake-Somerford.”

  “Devil a bit.”

  She kissed him. “My hero. And I’ll be proud to be at your side.”

  “I shouldn’t let you do it.”

  “Am I a child? And in all respects but love, I’m clever, levelheaded, and schooled to make shrewd bargains. Cease trying to protect me from myself.”

  His lips twitched. “A spiked mace.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That I adore you, goddess.” He drew her in for a long, tender kiss. She snuggled against him, enjoying it, but wanting more. “The problem with our inside-outness is that courtship isn’t quite enough anymore,” she said.

  “No, I am not going to ravish you beneath a cherry tree.”

  “No?”

  “No,” he said, capturing her wandering hand. “Or not yet. What am I saying?” he asked, standing and pulling her, laughing, to her feet. “Never. Not here. Aunt Miriam would turn gray on the spot.”

  “I’ll go odds she wouldn’t.”

  “Stop trying to corrupt me.”

  She went with him back toward the house, smiling. “Do you have a kite?”

  “I did. It might still be around. Why?”

  “I’d like to fly it with you on the headland.”

  “Why?”

  “Do you remember helping a girl to fly a kite in the park?”

  It clearly took him a moment. “Yes. I almost knocked her over.”

  “Or she ran into you. That might have been the moment when I realized that I loved you. I liked you in the bookshop. You annoyed me at Lady Charrington’s ball. I felt the attraction, but I was determined to resist. But then, in the park, I saw the heart and soul of you, the part I later came to see as David.”

  “Remember the dragon,” he said, but they had to kiss. “I was lost from the first, but I fought as hard as I could.”

  “You didn’t really want to marry a stupid woman, did you?”

  “No, but I felt honor bound.”

  “You’d have been miserable.”

  “When I formed the plan, I hadn’t met you. . . .”

  “Davy, there you are!”

  Lucy blinked out of a magical world to see a stalwart gentleman walking toward them, round face beaming. “And here’s your Lucy. Welcome, cousin.”

  Lucy realized this was addressed to her.

  “Lucy,” David said in a resigned tone, “this is my cousin Henry Kerslake.”

  Lucy curtsied, beginning to feel overwhelmed by good cheer.

  “Dinner’s served,” Henry said, “so come on in. I heard there was trouble with some cows over Harcombe way.”

  David answered and Lucy walked with them, suppressing a smile. Henry Kerslake wasn’t one for polite chitchat with the ladies, it would seem.

  Henry took his father’s place at the head of the table and carved the joint of pork when it came. He was certainly comfort
able in his place in the world, a secure heir with no need to venture elsewhere, already knowing how his life would progress. She felt a touch of the old resentment that her life hadn’t rolled out in a similarly smooth way, but the future delights would compensate.

  After the meal Lady Kerslake suggested a game of cards, but David took his leave. “I’ve neglected my responsibilities too long.” He merely smiled at Lucy. “After church tomorrow I’ll show you round the villages.”

  Church tomorrow, in this community which would be her home. A delightful prospect.

  When he’d left, Lucy could have played the heroine’s part and pined, but she was drawn into clearing away the meal and then to a game of cards. After a supper Henry went off to some paperwork and Aunt Miriam went to bed.

  Though late, it was only just dark on a June night and Lucy felt drawn out the back door to look up at Crag Wyvern. There was enough light lingering in the sky to show it as a solid dark shape. If David was in one of his rooms with candles lit, she couldn’t see that from here.

  Up above, stars were astonishingly bright.

  “Lovely, isn’t it?”

  Lucy startled at Amelia’s voice. “Yes.”

  “It’s because there’s hardly any moon.”

  “I’ve rarely seen such a night sky. There are too many buildings in London, and often the air isn’t clear.”

  “Why not?”

  “Coal fires. Even in summer there are many businesses that need fires. Bakeries, chophouses, forges and foundries.”

  “That sounds unpleasant.”

  “Perhaps. This seems uncomfortably quiet.”

  “Quiet? I can hear Peggy Brown and her sister arguing and the Muncotts need to train their dog not to bark at nothing.”

  “There’s always traffic in London. More in the tonnish part than in the City. The City generally sleeps for a while, but in the west end, by the time the beau monde rolls home with the dawn, the hawkers and deliverymen are out.”

  Quiet was something else she was going to have to get used to. For the moment, it unsettled her. Despite the occasional voices and some singing, perhaps from the tavern, she felt uncomfortably isolated. Yes, this place could keep secrets. Things could happen here and never be heard of outside. It was another closed circle, perhaps with sinister aspects. She shivered slightly, but then a clear birdsong split the still air.