“I think not.”
Cromwell barked.
Brandon blinked.
“Now, I tell ye! I just ran off three blackguards and I don’t mind shooting another!”
Luc had no intention of complying. But negotiation seemed advisable. “Perhaps we should talk about this.”
The rifle shook with fury. “Are ye deaf, man! Put the girl down!”
Luc eyed his wild-eyed adversary, wondering where the man had come by such an ill-chosen set of weapons. “No,” he said flatly.
“Then prepare to find yer head shot in two.”
At this point Bram shoved up his spectacles and peered at Luc. “I think you’re making a mistake. He’s not—”
“Just you stay away from him, Master Bram. He’s as deadly as he is clever. You get yourself over here and out of my range of fire.”
Bram. That meant he was Silver’s brother. Luc saw the same honesty and innocence in the boy’s eyes. Frowning, he turned back to the man with the rifle. “I doubt you’ll have any range of fire at all with that thing. The priming pan’s not closed and you’ve probably lost most of your powder. Besides that, you’ve forgotten to set your lock to full cock.”
“I knew that,” Tinker snapped. Muttering, he flipped the firing-pan cover closed, then cocked the lock.
“Stop, Tinker. He’s not one of them.”
“Who says?”
“I think he came to help.” Brandon stared at Luc, his eyes wide. “By Jupiter, you’re Blackwood, aren’t you? You’re the famous highwayman!”
“Infamous is more the word,” Tinker said crossly. “And what’s this about helping? Miss Silver told me you sent her about her business.”
Luc lowered his pistol. “I would be happy to explain everything, of course, but before we talk, I suggest we make certain there are no more of those swine at work!”
Tinker frowned, his shoulders stiff with suspicion. “No need. I ran ‘em all off — the ones these young ‘uns didn’t knock out cold, at least.”
In Luc’s arms Silver sighed and began to stir. Her hand sought Luc’s neck. Her thigh slid against his.
It felt good. Too good, Luc decided a moment later, feeling muscles clinch that ought not to. Feeling a hot swift ache that he hadn’t felt in weeks.
Maybe forever.
Silver sighed sleepily and snuggled closer, her cheek at his chest.
Luc tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t listening.
When she slid her fingers across his chest, it didn’t make the pain in his groin feel any better.
“Tinker? Is that you?” Silver’s head rose sleepily.
“Bloody right it is, miss. But what you’re doing in that scoundrel’s arms is what I want to know!”
She tried to sit up, but Luc held her still, cradled with hard fingers against his chest. She gave an unsteady laugh. “Scoundrel? This scoundrel saved my life. Bram’s too.”
“Not at all,” Luc said lazily, smiling down at her. “As I recall, you and your brother did that very nicely all by yourselves.”
“Well, you would have saved us. If you’d arrived a few minutes earlier, that is.”
“A thousand pardons. I shall try to be more punctual next time.”
“There ain’t going to be no next time!” Tinker roared.
Silver smiled and curved her fingers over Luc’s cheek.
A simple touch. The sort of touch he’d felt a hundred times before. But this one slammed down his spine bone by bone and left his legs wobbling.
He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we’d better get you someplace more comfortable, Sunbeam.”
Silver sighed, resting her head in the warm V of skin at his neck. “Oh, but I’m entirely comfortable right here, I assure you.”
“Sunbeam?” Exasperated, Tinker dropped rifle and flail. “What in the devil?” He glared at the smiling pair. “Will one of you kindly tell me what is going on?”
Cromwell chose this moment to lumber off his captive, who lapsed into blessed unconsciousness. The great yellow sheepdog stared up at Luc and barked happily, thumping his tail against his captive’s face.
“You see, Tinker?” Silver said. “Even Cromwell likes him.”
“Allays said that dog had no brains.”
Luc couldn’t keep back a smile. “I mean you no harm. It’s, er, rather a long story,” he explained, trying to peel Silver away from his chest.
It didn’t work. She only nuzzled closer.
“Well, that’s just fine. ‘Cause I reckon I got all evening,” Tinker snapped. “And you, Miss Silver, just you get down and walk over here to me!”
“Don’t want to. If I do, I shall fall. Or turn dreadfully unwell. That horrible man threw me down and made me strike my head, you know.”
“I knew it! Let go of her, villain, before I—”
“Not him, Tinker,” Bram said quickly. “That one. The one Cromwell just scared senseless.”
“But what’s he doing here?” Tinker glowered at the highwayman.
Bram studied Luc’s black-clad form with obvious relish. “He heard all the noise and came to help.”
“Hmmmph. Came to rob us, more like. Or something even worse.”
“Not him.” Silver’s voice was muffled against Luc’s chest. “Always a gentleman.” Rather obscurely, she ended this comment with a sigh of regret.
“Now just you see here, Susannah St. Clair!”
“I much prefer Silver,” Luc said softly.
“I won’t have it, not a bit of it!” Tinker’s face was growing mottled. “First it’s highwaymen and then it’s ruffians of every sort. What mad scheme will you take into that head of yours next, girl?”
Silver gave a dramatic moan. “Oh, yes, I’m feeling vastly unwell.”
Luc grinned at Tinker. “Don’t mind her. She’s just feigning.”
“And how would the likes of yourself know that?”
Silver’s head rose. She studied Luc’s masked face with interest. “Yes, how would you? I thought I was doing a creditable job of it.”
“It was the moan.” Luc’s eyes twinkled, amber and gold behind the mask. “I believe it’s called protesting too much. And you’ve far too much color for someone who’s about to become, er, vastly unwell.”
Silver’s nose wrinkled. “Damn and blast.” She gave a shrug. “Still, it’s true enough that the ruffian threw me down into the corner. And now my head is pounding rather violently. Besides, I must be dreadfully heavy. You’d better put me down.”
Luc had no inclination to put his slender burden anywhere. Frowning, he brushed a curl from Silver’s cheek. Beneath it lay a long red welt where her head had struck a piece of wood.
He cursed harshly and had to fight a raw urge to run a blade through the man lying unconscious on the floor. A very sharp blade. After he’d kicked him maybe a dozen or so times first.
“Blast it, woman, why didn’t you tell me? It must hurt like the very devil, and here we are talking.” He looked at Tinker. “Where can I take her?”
The old servant’s mouth settled in a thin line. “Nowhere, if I can help it.”
“Good God, man, the woman’s hurt! I’d hardly make an attempt on her virtue now.”
Bram’s eyes opened with interest. “What’s ‘attempt on her virtue’ mean, Tinker?”
“None of your business, boy,” Tinker muttered darkly. “And there’s many as would try just that. How do I know you ain’t one of them, highwayman?”
Silver’s head appeared. “Yes, how do we know that?”
Luc pulled her head back against his shoulder. “Because I give you my word, that’s why.”
“Humph.” Tinker looked as suspicious as ever. Silver murmured something that sounded like “how very unfortunate.”
“She needs to rest,” Luc said tersely. “And as soon as she’s settled, I intend to go see if any more of those blackguards are hanging about.”
“How do we know you’re not one of them?” Tinker continued st
ubbornly. “Came at just the right time, after all. Too blasted right, if you ask me.”
“Are you one of them?” Silver asked interestedly.
“Hellion,” was Luc’s lazy reply.
“Can’t be.” Bram was eyeing them all with unholy glee. “Doesn’t make half a bit of sense. The man would hardly hurt himself.”
“Hurt?” Tinker’s brow furrowed.
“Hurt?” Silver’s head shot up. “What didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I’m not hurt, that’s why,” Luc said curtly. His shoulder was aching, of course, but not seriously. Thankfully, Jonas had bound it well. In fact, Luc decided he could carry this woman all night and never feel a bit of pain.
Other than the sweet, hot ache that was pooling through his thighs, of course. That sort of pain he was finding damned addictive, in fact.
Bram shook his head, ever the observant scientist. “Then why do you wince whenever her head scrapes your shoulder?”
“Just an old scratch.”
“Put me down!” Silver said breathlessly, struggling against Luc’s hard fingers. Her eyes closed for a second. “You shouldn’t — you mustn’t—”
“In my opinion my sister’s not feeling so well either,” Bram offered.
“What?” Tinker snapped to attention.
“It’s nothing. Just a — a headache.” Silver winced as Luc carefully explored her ribs. “And of course a bit of a bump at my side where that snake hit me with his stick.”
“Stick!” Luc and Tinker roared the word in one breath.
“Told you,” Bram said sagely. He was seated on an empty crate enjoying the hubbub vastly.
“Give her here,” Tinker snapped.
“The devil I will.” Luc’s mouth was set in a mulish line.
Bram decided it was time to take matters in hand. “Oh, give over, you two. Put her on the settee and she’ll be fine. But those men over there are going to be coming awake soon.”
Grimly, Luc settled Silver on a faded chintz-covered settee. As he did so his arm brushed her fingers.
Silver frowned down at the blood dotting her hand. “You really are hurt! Tinker, fetch me some rosemary water. Bram, I’ll need some lavender oil and clean gauze.”
But Luc had already pulled away and was busy securing the first intruder with a stout rope. “That will have to wait. First I mean to see these brutes put somewhere safe.” His hands moved with swift efficiency, as if he’d done this sort of thing often. “After that I’ve got a few questions I mean to ask them,” he added darkly.
“You do, do you? And just what business is it of yours?” Tinker demanded.
Luc stared at the welt on Silver’s forehead. “The day they did that, it became my business.”
After a long silence Tinker nodded. “Happen I’ll come along with you. Got a few questions of my own to ask.” A look passed between the two men, sharp and hard.
“Might be messy.” Luc’s eyes were measuring.
“Never minded a little bit of unpleasantness.”
“Nor do I,” Bram said excitedly, jumping to his feet. “When do we leave?”
“We don’t leave, young man.” Seeing the boy’s face turn mutinous, Luc softened the order. “You are needed here to protect things and keep an eye on your sister.”
After a long look at Luc’s unyielding amber eyes, Bram finally relented. “You’ll have all the fun!”
Silver sat up on the settee, her face pale but resolute. “No, Tinker. I won’t have it, do you hear? He’s hurt. Besides, it’s not his affair.”
“It is if he chooses to make it his affair.” A faint smile lurked at Tinker’s lips. “Best be at it, then.” He began to tug their unconscious intruder toward the door.
“I’ll take care of the two outside,” Luc said grimly.
“No! You’re hurt, you great bacon-brained lout. And I don’t recall asking for your help. Just — oh, just go away!”
Luc gave Silver a look that was part silk, part promise. Then he disappeared into the night, captive in tow.
“Bottle that look and we’d make a fortune,” Bram said thoughtfully.
“What look?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m just a boy, after all. Don’t know a whit about such things.”
Silver studied the darkness where the highwayman and Tinker had disappeared. “Men,” she said crossly. “Five minutes of talk and now you’re all thick as thieves.”
Behind her Cromwell thumped his tail.
“Et tu, Brute?” Silver muttered.
Bram tried to hide a grin.
“Not a word, do you understand?”
The boy merely spread his hands, smiling hugely. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Syl.”
~ ~ ~
“And now I’m thinking I’d like to know your intentions.”
Luc and Tinker moved up the hill, hefting their bound captives. Between them, rows of lavender gleamed ice-like in the moonlight. Luc maneuvered his unconscious burden past two shrubs and a hedge of roses, then stopped to catch a breath. “You know, for an old man you do remarkably well.”
“Ain’t half old yet. Just you remember that, cutthroat.” But there was an unmistakable gleam in Tinker’s eye. “Nor don’t you go trying to make me forget my question neither.”
Luc flexed his back, then gingerly did the same to his shoulder.
It hurt. No, it hurt like hell. But nothing that was serious. He knew serious when he felt it. Frowning, he studied the neat rows of lavender flanked by honeysuckle and white alba roses. “Nice acreage. Why would someone want to drive you away?”
“Any number of reasons, I expect. Our seeds, for one. They’re damned valuable now. Hardy, rot resistant and high producing. Aye, Bram’s been doing tests for two years now, and that boy’s a genius with plants.” Tinker looked at the highwayman. “And you still ain’t answered my question.”
“No, I haven’t, have I?” Luc gave him a slight smile. “Any other reasons you can think of?”
“Could be for the formula.”
“Formula?”
“For the perfume William St. Clair produced. Seemed like he blended a thousand flowers to make it. One of a kind, it was, with some peculiar sort of base that St. Clair never discussed with no one. No wonder, neither, because that perfume made him a rich man. Queen wore nothing else. Half the women in London wore it.”
“And he died without telling the secret to his own children?”
The old servant shrugged. “He was a suspicious sort when it came to his fragrances. Didn’t let no one into his workroom when he was making the final blend. When he died it was lost, all of it. Never found a trace.” Tinker hesitated.
“Go on.”
“Downy one, ain’t you?” Tinker laughed softly. “Not like him to lose nothing neither. The man was special careful about his business. I figured it to turn up sometime, but it never has.”
Luc frowned. “If it did, would you recognize it?”
“Not me. Young Master Bram would though. Got the nose, he has.”
“Nose? I don’t understand.”
“Skill at scents. Give the boy anything and he can tell you exactly what’s in it, from just one sniff. Aye, a rare sort of skill. Just like his father had before him.”
Luc frowned. “Why didn’t the boy just copy it?”
“Happen we tried. Did nothing else for a year. Got most of the ingredients but not the relative amounts. And one important thing was missing, some sort of element that St. Clair had discovered to make the scent last.” Tinker shook his head. “No matter what we tried, it just wasn’t the same.”
“I see. Is there anything else someone might want here?”
Tinker shrugged. “Land mebbe. Came down to Miss Silver after her father’s death. She’s to maintain the business until the boy’s of age and then it will be his. Odd sort of a will, as I recall.” Tinker’s eyes narrowed. “Said Miss Silver had to live on this land to keep it.”
“Very interesting.”
“Ain’t it just
?”
“Anyone who might be angry about how things were settled after the father’s death? A cousin? Perhaps some unhappy creditors?”
Tinker sniffed. “No other relatives. Only that whey-faced Millbank and he don’t count.”
“Do you think he’s behind this?”
Tinker scratched his jaw. “The man’s a braying ass if ever I saw one, but if you’re asking me would he sanction murder, then I can’t rightly say I believe it.”
“Maybe we should try a few questions.” Luc stared down at the man before him, a hard look in his eyes.
“Fine by me. Do we break his arm or just snap a finger or two?” Tinker looked as if he’d relish the task.
Luc moved to the farther man. As he did so, a branch snagged his mask. He cursed softly, ran a finger beneath the fine silk to free it, then went still as the fabric came loose and pooled around his neck.
A chiseled nose and bronze skin gleamed in the moonlight. “I hope you’re a man who can keep a secret.”
For a long time Tinker merely stared at the highwayman. Something sharp and swift came and went in his old gray eyes. Then he nodded. “Happen I can if I want to. Or if I need to.”
“Good.” Luc looked down at the man at his feet. “I fancy I know a way we might avoid any extra unpleasantness.”
“Do you, now? And why am I not surprised to hear that?”
Luc’s eyes glittered. “A man picks up odd skills in my line of work.”
“Let’s be about it, then.”
As Luc moved through the moon-silvered bushes, through the night air rich with lavender and the sweetness of alba roses, he slanted a look at Tinker. “And about your question, my intentions are honorable. As honorable as they’ve ever been. There’s nothing between Silver and me,” he said grimly. “Nor will there ever be. She’s not the sort for my world and I’m not the sort for hers.”
Tinker nodded. But as they moved off into the night, hauling their burdens behind them through the rich, dark earth, the old man’s face looked as if he wasn’t so sure about that.
~ 18 ~
“What’s keeping the two of them so long?” Silver paced the immaculate workroom. Lantern light gleamed warm and rich off the copper distilling oven and the polished oak floor. On the far wall moonlight slid through the tall windows.
Come the Night (The Dangerous Delameres - Book 1) Page 17
