Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1)

by Skye, Christina

  Silver’s fingers inched toward the copper pipe. “I hardly think my business arrangements need concern you, Sir Charles. You had a chance to invest and you chose not to. You would never be involved in a business ‘run by a mere woman,’ I believe you said. In that case Lavender Close Farm can be of no interest to you.”

  “Oh, but it is. For you are of interest to me. And I’ll have you, do you hear me? No one is going to interfere!”

  “Go home,” Silver said brusquely. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself.” Suddenly she was tired, infinitely tired. Her shoulders ached and her fingers burned.

  The last thing she needed was Sir Charles Millbank enacting a scene here in the middle of her workroom. She had more important things to think of — such as where the next threat against the farm might come from.

  “We’ll see who’s laughing, miss!” Beefy fingers speared into Silver’s hair, forcing her closer.

  Damn the man! Silver took an angry breath and jerked away. She was going to have to hurt him. She didn’t like the thought, but he gave her no choice.

  Her fingers found the gleaming length of copper. “For the last time, are you going to leave?”

  Millbank laughed coldly. “You don’t get your way, Silver, my dear. Not this time,” he sneered. “Yes, I’ll see young Brandon is sent packing to a nice, harsh school. A place where the masters know how to mete out discipline to unruly little boys who prefer daydreaming to doing their lessons.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!” Silver hissed. “He’s barely recovered from his last bout of lung contagion. A school like that would kill him!”

  Her brother-in-law only laughed. “That’s hardly my problem. You should have been more agreeable to me when you had the chance.” His hot breath burned over her neck as he jerked her closer. “By God, I’ve wanted you for months and now I’m going to have you!”

  Silver’s fingers clenched on the pipe. She reviewed her uncle’s instructions about the places that a gentleman found most vulnerable to attack.

  She was just preparing to deliver a crippling blow to Millbank’s nether regions when a hard voice thundered through the conservatory.

  “I much regret to contradict you, Millbank, but all you’re going to do now is take your hands off the woman.” Low and lethal, the words snapped from the shadows. Blackwood stood unmoving, tall and tense, a line of stark, unrelieved black from boots to mask to rakish hat.

  But darkest of all was the fury in his eyes.

  Silver’s breath caught at the sight of him. His rage was nearly palpable. Didn’t he know she could take care of herself?

  Sir Charles took an unconscious step backward. “By — by whose order, sir?”

  A pistol glinted suddenly, silver against gloves of blackest leather. “By the order of the Lord of Blackwood,” came the silken reply.

  Millbank seemed to shrivel. “B-Blackwood? By God, you’ve got a nerve. But the magistrate will soon show you some manners!”

  The shadowed figure by the door gave a low laugh and sauntered closer. “Carlisle? Our hardworking magistrate is only just returned from London. It appears that he cut short his trip and is right now sound asleep in his parlor, cup-shot from too much fine French brandy at the last inn he visited. So you see, Lord Carlisle will be no help to you or anyone else this night, Millbank.” The highwayman’s pistol leveled. “Now I believe I told you to release the lady.”

  “Lady?” Millbank sneered. “Her? Hardly a lady.”

  Black moved upon black. Hard fingers circled Millbank’s neck and cold metal locked against his throat. “Take back those words.”

  “I — I—”

  One hammer cocked home, then the other.

  “All right, damn it. I do. I do!”

  “Now apologize. To the lady.”

  Sir Charles turned a muddy shade of crimson. “To her? Be damned if I will!”

  The loaded chambers slid up his throat and wedged beneath his flabby chin. “Very well, damn it! The wench ain’t worth my life. I make you my regrets,” he said curtly.

  The highwayman’s eyes were flecked with fire. “Louder. I do not believe the lady heard you.”

  “I make you my regrets. My lady.” Millbank repeated the words icily.

  “Very good. That will do for now, I think. You may remove your person from my presence. I find you intolerably offensive.”

  Millbank’s fists clenched and unclenched atop his protuberant waist.

  “You had something else to say?” The highwayman’s voice held a silky warning.

  Millbank swallowed and shook his head.

  “Very good. In that case the door is over there. See yourself out.”

  With a muttered oath the baronet stumbled off. Sullen curses filled the air, then trailed away as he floundered off into the darkness.

  Silver didn’t move. Words failed her as she stared at the masked figure draped against the doorway. “It was — good of you to help me. Not that I needed it, of course.” With a shaky laugh she held up the length of copper pipe.

  The highwayman slid his pistol back into the pocket of his cape. “Very inventive of you. Still, I am glad I was about.” The amber eyes narrowed. “Has he done this before?”

  Silver shoved back a wayward strand of hair. Now that Sir Charles was routed, she felt an odd weakness in her knees. “Never before. Not like this, at least. But why are you here?”

  Behind the mask the amber eyes studied her. “It seems that I could not stay away. I count myself honored to have been at hand. To serve you will always be an honor, mignonne.”

  The heat in his eyes made Silver tremble. She didn’t want his help. It was dangerous to accept help from anyone. And this man left her feeling far too restless and giddy for comfort.

  She frowned at him. “Did you reconsider my business offer?”

  “No.”

  “Then we have nothing more to say to each other.”

  “He’ll come back eventually, you know. A man like that always does. How will you protect yourself next time?”

  Silver shrugged, finding it hard to think with his eyes upon her, with his tall, lean body draped against the door only inches away. She turned away, her cheeks hectic with color.

  “What is it, mignonne?”

  “I … nothing.”

  “Did he harm you? Was I too late? By God, I’ll strangle the man if he—”

  “No,” Silver said quickly. “He did nothing more than thunder out a few orders and twitch about like a dog with fleas.” She rubbed her forehead, trying to forget the ugly leer on Millbank’s face.

  “He’s dangerous. Remember that.”

  For a moment his anger was palpable. It left Silver shaken. There was a darkness to him, a hardness that set him apart from other men.

  From civilized men, at least.

  Which was exactly why she’d wanted his help. But he wouldn’t give it, so that was that. “I’ll manage,” she said coolly.

  “I tried to stay away,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “I ought to have, but I heard that Millbank has been bragging about how he’s going to take charge of things here. I wanted to warn you.”

  “Consider me warned. Was there anything else?” she asked bluntly.

  This was clearly not the reaction Blackwood had expected. After all, he’d just saved her honor — perhaps even her life.

  “Of course there is. You obviously need help in dealing with that blackguard. I shall have to take you someplace safe and give you a few lessons in the use of a pistol,” he said grimly.

  Silver frowned. He would give her lessons? In truth, she was a crack shot. Her eccentric Uncle Archibald had seen to that, training her on targets of bottles and crockery in the middle of Hounslow Heath.

  But Silver decided not to tell her highwayman that. He seemed to be enjoying the role of her protector. The man had probably had far too little opportunity to be chivalrous in his life. Silver decided it was the least she could do to give him a chance to learn better habits than being a c
old-blooded felon.

  In fact, with a little cleverness, she might even be able to divert him from the dangerous life he was leading. “You would?”

  “There’s nothing to fear, I assure you,” Blackwood said soothingly. “It’s noisy, but I’ll keep you safe.”

  “S-safe?” Silver bit her lip, struggling to hold back a wild giggle. First the threats, then Millbank, and now this. She could hit a target dead center at fifty paces and the outer edge at one hundred and fifty. Her uncle had once pronounced her the finest shot in three counties. “You will?”

  “Of course. It’s the least I can do,” the highwayman said gruffly. “Especially since it seems that you’re so damned set on staying out here in the back of beyond without a man about to protect you.”

  “Why should I need a man to protect me?”

  The highwayman frowned. “I admire your spirit, but it will take more than a few warnings to keep Millbank away from you. And what about the others who threatened you and your brother?”

  “It’s not your affair. You made your position very clear when you turned down my business offer.”

  “Offer! It was the most hairbrained scheme I’ve ever heard.”

  “There is no need to be insulting.”

  “I’m not trying to insult you.” The highwayman glared. “The man is involved in serious intrigues.”

  “Ah. By that you mean his visits to that house of assignation.” Silver shrugged. “I have a good idea what goes on in such places.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” The amber eyes darkened. “And what is that?”

  Silver toyed with a trailing frond of camellias. “It’s a place where you men go to deal with those uncontrollable manly passions, of course,” she explained equably.

  “Uncontroll—” Luc Delamere, hardened roué and traveler of dark highways from London to Somerset, made a strangled sound. They were back to those again, were they?

  “Yes, I’ve figured out all about that too. The only thing is, I’ve never heard uncontrollable female passions spoken of.” Her head cocked as she studied her tongue-tied rescuer. “What about us?”

  “I refuse to discuss this.” The highwayman cursed softly, goaded beyond limit.

  “Pooh! That’s just what Tinker says when something begins to be interesting.”

  “Whoever this Tinker is, she has my utmost sympathy.”

  “He, not she.”

  The highwayman’s mouth thinned. “Just who is this fellow Tinker?”

  “He worked with my father. After he died, Tinker stayed on to help my brother and me.”

  “I suppose you are … in love with him?” The question was carefully neutral.

  “In love? With Tinker? I suppose I am, in my way. We’ve been through so much together.” Silver cocked her head, considering. “Yes, I rather believe that I am.”

  Norfolk’s most notorious criminal stiffened. Silver saw fury burn in his hard eyes. “My congratulations,” he said harshly. “To you both. But I’d better be off. I have coaches to rob, innocent females to ravish.” His lip curled. “An infinitely tarnished reputation to maintain, in fact.” He offered her a swift bow, then turned to go.

  Silver’s voice came behind him in a low, throaty rush. “Wait! Don’t go.”

  He went very still, his broad shoulders a black slash against the flickering lights of the conservatory. “Why not?”

  “Because it — it’s not like that between Tinker and me. He’s a friend, an old and dear friend, not what you think.” Then, as Blackwood still did not move, “And he is all of fifty years old.”

  Slowly the highwayman turned. Some of the harshness left his shoulders. “Fifty or not, the man should protect you better,” he said gruffly.

  “I can manage perfectly well by myself!”

  “A woman like you deserves to be protected and cherished. Damn it, you ought to be married, with a pack of children playing at your skirts and a rich, titled husband to shelter you from villains like Millbank!”

  “You presume a great deal, sir!”

  “And you choose to ignore a great deal,” he added grimly. “Have you received any more threats?”

  Silver shook her head. “Tinker is out in the fields right now and he is well armed, I assure you. You need not be concerned, for we will manage perfectly.”

  Blackwood studied her for long, silent moments. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Sunbeam?”

  “Of course I’m not lying! Besides, most people would say that you are the very sort of man I would need protecting from!”

  “Perhaps I am,” he said softly. Darkly. “After all, I saved your life, mignonne, and your honor along with it. Does not that accord me certain privileges?”

  Silver felt an unsettling heat in her blood. “What sort of privileges?”

  Blackwood’s eyes swept her face, then slid lower, drifting lazily over her chest. “The possibilities leave me speechless.” In a whisper of lavender scented air he was beside her, his gloved hand tracing the warm curve of her neck.

  Silver’s pulse began to race. He was doing it again, leaving her all in a tangle inside, making her heart skip like a pebble off stormy water. It was shameless, positively shameless. “I think you’d better go.” She was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Silver tried to tell herself it was because she was coming down with a spring chill.

  But she didn’t believe it, not really. It was his presence that was leaving her breathless and flushed.

  “I’m feeling rather ill, you see. I wouldn’t want you to contract my contagion,” she lied briskly.

  Amber-gold eyes glittered beneath the black silk. “I begin to think being close to you would be worth any sort of risk, Sunbeam.”

  Silver felt her heart race. She gave an experimental cough. “Definitely sick. You’d better go.” She raised her hand dramatically.

  The movement brought her fingers across his chest. Even at that slight touch the highwayman stiffened. And then Silver saw the dark stain on his shirt. Her breath caught. “You’ve been hurt!”

  “A mere scratch, I assure you.”

  “A scratch? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Swiftly, she caught his waist and began dragging him toward a chair.

  Her visitor gave a lazy smile. “I rather doubt that any man can tell you anything.”

  “So now you’re calling me a harpy? Well, and so I might be. It comes of holding the reins for too many years, I expect.” She pushed him down into the chair, then pulled off his hat and bent to the strings of his mask.

  His hard hand locked around her fingers. “No.” The word was harsh. “It would place you in danger. It is safer for you not to know my features.”

  Silver sighed. “Very well. But you must sit still while I fetch you a glass of water. Or perhaps some brandy. On the other hand, Tinker has some Scotch whisky hidden down in the storeroom, although I pretend I don’t know it’s there. Should I—”

  “It’s nothing.”

  But at that moment Luc Delamere was in fact feeling distinctly lightheaded. Not because of his wound, although that was throbbing damnably.

  No, it was because of this unexpected concern from a woman who looked so fragile that a shaft of summer sun might knock her over. After being mauled about by that swine Millbank, she was worrying about him!

  The sheer, amazing novelty of it left the notorious Norfolk highwayman in shock.

  “You’re not going anywhere until I’m certain of that.”

  He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be here. Nothing good can come of it. Not for either of us.” He pushed to his feet, wincing as he brushed against a branch of flowering jasmine. “I don’t know what I was thinking of when I—”

  Grimly, Silver maneuvered him back down into the chair. “You aren’t going anywhere until I’ve looked at that wound! And there’s no reason to be worried, because I’ve tended any number of cuts and scrapes on our farm animals. Cromwell — that’s our dog — has fleas to be treated. I’ve even handled snakebites on occasion. Lavender o
il does wonders for that.”

  Blackwood gave her an ironic smile. “You reassure me to no end. Draft animals, you say? Very flattering, Sunbeam.”

  Silver flushed. “That is not to say … but you’re mocking me again!”

  “How can I not? It brings such a lovely flush to your cheeks.” His gloved hand traced her cheek. And then his voice turned very serious. “I could make you happy, you know. In one night I could show you things you’ve never seen, Sunbeam, things you’ve never even imagined. I could bring you down the very moon and stars while you lay in my arms.”

  “You are mad.” But Silver’s voice was a mere whisper. And suddenly it was she who was mad, she who was conjuring up dark images, heated visions of silken skin and hungry, tangled limbs.

  “I expect,” she said softly, “that you are speaking of those uncontrollable passions. Only female this time.”

  In his eyes she saw a deep hunger. She wondered if it was also in her own.

  It terrified her, such hunger. Such need.

  Such blinding beauty.

  In that moment she knew he had to leave, wound or not. She had to make him. Otherwise…

  Outside shouts drifted up the misty valley.

  Silver peered out the window. “It’s Carlisle and his men!”

  The highwayman did not move. “Apparently our hardworking magistrate has grown sober. How very unfortunate.”

  “You must go! He has at least a dozen men with him!”

  “Wonderful. I find I’m in the mood for a fight.”

  Blackwood crossed his arms over his chest. “Besides, what about my wound?”

  “That was before. You must go now before it’s too late!” Silver frowned as she saw the reckless set to his mouth. “For me, if not yourself. Because I — I couldn’t bear to see them hunt you down like…”

  “Like a common criminal?” His tone was grim. “Ah, Sunbeam, that’s exactly what I am.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Silver countered sharply. “Not for a moment. And even if you are, God forgive me, I still can’t find it in me to—” Her voice broke. “Oh, go — just go. Now, before they see you!”