Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife

by Sarah Mallory

  Nick made his way down stairs to the kitchen where he found Lord Chelston’s bad-tempered French cook shouting at his minions. He slipped past them and into the servants’ hall where a tired-looking scullery maid was clearing the remains of the servants’ dinner from the table.

  ‘Here, let me help with that.’ He began to stack up the plates. ‘Do you always eat so well?’

  She giggled. ‘No, silly, ’tis only when there’s guests that there’s so much left over for us.’

  ‘So have you worked here long?’

  ‘Aye, since I was a nipper.’

  ‘Then you’ve seen lots of balls like this one.’

  The maid paused and rubbed her nose. ‘None so many. But I do believe they is always having balls and parties at the house in Lunnon.’

  ‘Oh? Is that their only other house, then?’

  ‘Lawks, no! The master has his huntin’ lodge somewhere up north, and there’s another house in Devon.’

  ‘What about Kent?’ asked Nick. ‘I thought I heard one of the stable lads mention property in Kent. Abbots-some thing.’

  ‘You means Abbotsfield. ’Tidn’t a house, though. That burned down years ago.’

  Nick carried the plates through to the scullery and the maid gave him a quick, appraising glance.

  ‘But you isn’t supposed to be ’elping me, you should be upstairs, serving supper.’

  ‘I should, I know, but I reckons there’s enough of ’em up there for now. I’ll go up in a minute, when we’ve finished clearin’ the tables.’

  ‘Well, mind you don’t get the mess from the plates on yer coat,’ she warned him. ‘They’ll knock a charge off your money for cleaning if you do.’

  He grinned. ‘Well then, they’ll have to pay me first!’

  Eve hurried up the stairs and through the empty corridors to her bed chamber. She launched herself through the door and quickly locked it after her, leaning against the heavy wooden panels, breathing heavily. A single candle burned on the mantel shelf and Martha was sitting on a stool, gazing dejectedly into the empty fire place. When she saw her mistress she jumped up.

  ‘Ooh, Miss Eve, thank heavens! Where have you been, and why on earth are you smiling in that way?’

  ‘I am smiling, Martha, because I think I am having an adventure!’

  Eve quickly scrabbled out of her clothes and into her night gown. The cherry-red domino was neatly folded and returned to the linen press and Martha took away her gown to hang it with the others in the dressing room. By the time she returned, Eve was sitting at the dressing table, un pinning her hair. She resisted her maid’s attempts to take the brush from her. ‘Get you to bed, Martha. You must be very tired.’

  ‘Not so tired that I cannot see you safely tucked up, Miss Eve.’

  ‘I am quite capable of blowing out my own candle, I assure you! Off you go now; as soon as I have finished brushing my hair I shall retire, I promise you.’

  However, it was long before Eve slept that night. She could not say that she was disturbed by the masquerade because very little noise reached her bed chamber, save Martha’s gentle snores coming from the dressing room, but the events of the evening had left her brain racing with conjecture and there was the underlying fear that Nick had been discovered. She tossed and turned in her lonely bed, wondering where he was, what he planned to do next. It did not matter that she told herself this was a fruit less exercise, it kept her awake until the grey light of dawn crept into her room.

  It was with some trepidation that she went down to break fast the next morning but the few guests who were not sleeping off the excesses of the night before greeted her quite normally, and there was no sign that she was about to be denounced as a fraud or a spy. She asked about the ball and was told it had been an outstanding success with the last carriages rolling away soon after dawn. No one mentioned intruders posing as footmen, and the servants in at ten dance in the break fast room looked as sleepy and in different as ever, so she could only hope that Nick’s disguise had gone undetected.

  It was not to be expected that the party would be very animated after such an exhausting entertainment and the day passed quietly, with Eve making sure she remained in the company of the ladies at all times. She was relieved that neither Bernard nor Lord Chelston made any attempt to single her out, but her cousin’s very civil attentions during dinner tried her patience and, pleading fatigue, she fled to her room before the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing room.

  Eve was indeed very tired after her sleep less night and she lost no time in donning her night gown and dismissing Martha. Within minutes she was asleep, only to wake with a start some time later. The room was very dark, for her maid had closed the curtains to shut out the bright moon light which might disturb her mistress. Eve lay still, straining every nerve to listen. She had locked the door herself, but wondered if it had been the sound of someone trying the handle that had woken her. Then she heard it again, a gentle but in sis tent tap-tapping on glass. For a moment she hesitated, wondering if she should call Martha, but she decided against it. Eve slipped out of bed and padded across to the window. With her heart hammering hard against her ribs she threw back the heavy curtains.

  There was no one there.

  The nearly full moon sailed in a cloud less sky, bathing the gardens in its serene light. Eve threw up the sash and cool night air flooded into the room. She rested her hands upon the sill, puzzled. There was no wind, nothing to cause a loose tendril from the ivy to tap at her window.

  She gasped as a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

  ‘Stand back, sweet heart, and let me come in.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  The ivy rustled and creaked as Nick hoisted himself across and in through the open window. He was wearing soft boots, black breeches and a dark linen shirt, clothes chosen deliberately so that nothing would stand out against the ivy-covered walls. He grinned at Eve, who was staring at him, open-mouthed. His heart contracted as he looked at her. She was so appealing, standing there with her hair in a dark cloud about her shoulders. ‘Well, will you not welcome me?’

  She ignored his open arms. ‘How did you know this was my room?’

  ‘I saw Martha at this window when I was here yester day. By the bye, where is Martha?’

  Eve indicated the dressing room. ‘She sleeps very heavily, but pray keep your voice down. Have you been here all day?’

  ‘No, we were paid off this morning. Which reminds me, how much do we pay our servants, Evelina?’

  She blinked at him. ‘I—um—I do not know…’

  ‘Well, whatever it is we must increase it. I was given a paltry sum for working here last night, and I’ve never worked so hard in my life. I’d rather be a raw recruit on board a man o’ war than to do that again.’

  Eve tried to stifle a giggle and failed. She pressed her teeth into her full bottom lip, but could not suppress an unruly dimple. Nick was en chanted. He resolved to make her laugh a great deal more in future.

  ‘You have led too pampered a life, sir!’ she told him severely.

  ‘I am beginning to think so, too.’

  ‘Well, never mind that. Why are you here? What have you learned?’

  ‘In one day? Not much. Catherine inherited Abbotsfield when her father died. It would appear all the old retainers were turned off when the house burned down about five years ago and no one knows much about the place since then. I have sent someone to search the woods and report back to me.’ He moved away from the window, taking care that his feet made no noise on the bare boards. ‘I wanted to tell you that I have sent a couple of men to Monkhurst. They will act as your servants, but they are Revenue men and are there to protect you. I still think Chelston’s schemes involve Monkhurst in some way, and I want to be sure you are safe.’

  ‘Thank you, but you could have sent me word of that. There was no need for you to put yourself at risk by coming here.’

  ‘But I wanted to see you. No—’ he held up his hand. ‘Don’t move.’<
br />
  ‘Why not? What is wrong?’

  ‘Your night gown.’

  ‘What about it? It is a very fine night gown.’

  ‘I know, sweet heart. With the moon light behind you I can see every line of your body.’ And a very shapely body it was, long legs tapering down from the swell of her hips and above that the narrow waist that seemed to beg for his hands to span it. He remembered how she had stood before the window on their wedding night. It had been his undoing. With a gasp she stepped quickly out of the moon light and Nick laughed softly.

  ‘You are no gentleman!’ she hissed.

  He reached out and pulled her to him. The feel of her body against his brought an instant reaction. ‘If I were not a gentleman I would carry you to that bed and ravish you!’

  He must not rush her, but he could not resist pressing just one kiss on her neck, where the lacy edge of her night gown had slipped off her shoulder.

  ‘That would be the action of a true scoundrel!’

  Reluctantly he raised his head. ‘I know,’ he agreed mourn fully. ‘And I have vowed I shall not impose myself upon you.’

  She put her hands against his chest and his heart thudded, as if trying to reach her. She tilted her face up, her lips parting to form a very inviting O of surprise. His arms tightened and the next moment he was kissing her, slowly, sensuously. For a brief, exultant moment she responded, then he felt her struggle and push against him.

  ‘No,’ she hissed, turning her head away. ‘I will not give in to you, Nick Wylder!’

  She tried to pull away from him but he caught her wrist, saying impatiently, ‘By God, woman you are my wife!’

  Her head went up. Even in the moon light he could see the haughty flash of her eyes. ‘You forfeited any rights you had when you deceived me,’ she said, her voice vibrating with fury.

  His head snapped back as if she had struck him. Nick looked at the tightly-coiled bundle of pride and passion standing before him and for the first time in his adult life he was afraid of doing the wrong thing. Pure, animal instinct told him to take her, to kiss her into submission. He knew he could do it, he had sensed the passion within her, had tasted it in her kiss moments before. But some thing held him back, warned him that passion might win her body, but it would not win her trust.

  Eve trembled. In her head she was determined to fight him, but every nerve of her body strained with desire. If he ignored her protests and dragged her into his arms, she knew her defences would crumble almost immediately for her heart was crying out for him to hold her, to make love to her. She kept her head up and met his gaze defiantly. ‘I think you should go now.’ She marvelled at how steady her voice was when inside she was burning up.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, releasing her wrist. ‘I think I should.’ Nick saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes and smiled, knowing he had made the right choice. ‘I do not consider that I have any—rights—over you, sweet heart. Neither do I want you to give in to me. You are my wife, my partner. We will meet as equals, you and I. Or not at all.’ He flicked a careless finger across her cheek and slipped back out of the window.

  Eve stood looking at the space where he had been. She told herself she was relieved, but there was also a vague sense of disappointment that he had given way so easily. Perversely she was not at all sure it was what she wanted. She ran to the window and leaned out. Nick was little more than a dark shadow amongst the bushes. His words echoed in her head: my wife, my partner. We will meet as equals, you and I. Equals. Could he really mean that?

  As she peered down he stepped out into the moonlight and raised his hand to blow her a kiss.

  Two days later Eve was back at Monkhurst. Lord and Lady Chelston had been reluctant to let her go, but she had stood firm, declaring that she must attend to her estate. Richard Granby was clearly relieved to see her safely returned and lost no time in presenting to her Davies and Warren, the two men Nick had sent to protect her. They bowed to her and declared them selves happy enough to help Granby around the house.

  ‘We thought it best to keep it quiet that we are with the Revenue,’ grinned Davies. ‘The people hereabouts are none too fond of us.’

  Eve nodded. ‘Then we shall just say that I asked Mr Granby to bring in extra staff. There should be no surprise at that; there is a deal to be done.’

  However, Eve was surprised at Silas’s reaction to the news.

  ‘If you thinks I’m too old, missus, then just say so,’ he told her when they met in the gardens later that day. Eve tried to be patient.

  ‘You are not too old at all, Silas. But we can use the extra help, and it is always useful to have a few more men around the house.’

  ‘What’s wrong with Sam and Nat? They’ll protect you, if that’s your worry.’

  ‘They are very useful, and have made a big difference already to the gardens, but they have families of their own to look after in the village, and cannot be at Monkhurst day and night. Pray do not be offended, Silas.’

  ‘Well I don’t see how you needs anyone else,’ he grumbled. ‘Especially when they’re not Kentish men.’

  ‘Perhaps you are right, but Granby did what he thought best. And they will be very useful in turning out the last few rooms for me.’

  Eve was determined to continue with her plans for making Monkhurst into a com fort able home, but after the excitement of her visit to Chelston Hall, life at the old house seemed sadly flat. There was no news from Nick, but that did not surprise her; he was born for adventure, not the day-to-day domesticity that comprised her own life. Her depression deepened; she was far too ordinary to satisfy the dashing Captain Wyldfire for very long. She blinked back a tear. True, she was his wife and he would come to her occasionally, when he needed to rest, or perhaps—the thought turned her insides to water—when he wanted her body, but then he would be off again, seeking excitement. Well, thought Eve, if that was how it must be then she would not complain. To have such a man, even for a short time, was as much as she could hope for. She would not pine.

  To keep herself from moping, Eve threw herself into the role of house wife, but this served only to high light how humdrum her life was compared with the unimaginable dangers Nick was facing. The only drama at Monkhurst was provided by Silas, who fell off a ladder in the barn and cracked open his head.

  ‘He should never have been on that ladder in the first place,’ declared Aggie, bustling around the kitchen. ‘Sam told ’im he would do it, only he was that determined to prove that he was every bit as good as these new lads you brought in, that he would go up.’

  ‘Oh dear, poor Silas. Is it very bad?’

  ‘Well, he can’t see straight for the present, besides bein’ sick as a dog, so he won’t be able to—’ Aggie closed her lips and shook her head before saying with a sigh, ‘But don’t you be worrying, Miss Eve, we shall manage.’

  ‘Perhaps you would like to go back to Silas now,’ suggested Eve. ‘Martha and I will do very well with a cold dinner.’

  ‘You will do no such thing, mistress. Why I never heard of such a thing! Silas has young Nat to look in on him during the day and I shall cook your dinner as I always do, so let’s not hear any more about it!’

  Eve hurriedly begged pardon and left her affronted house keeper to her work.

  She thought no more about it until Martha came in tutting because Aggie had left her basket by the back door. It was after dinner and Eve was in the drawing room, sitting by the window and making the most of the remaining daylight to work on her embroidery.

  ‘Full of pies it is, too, Miss Eve,’ said the maid, carrying a lighted taper to each of the candles. ‘I hope Silas wasn’t expectin’ them for his supper.’

  ‘Poor Aggie was looking very harassed today,’ remarked Eve. ‘She was in a hurry to get away, too.’ She put aside her embroidery and looked out of the window at the golden sunset. ‘Do you know, it is such a lovely evening that I would like to take a walk, so I will carry Aggie’s basket to the Gate House. It will save her walking back for
it.’

  ‘Well, you can’t go out alone in the dark. I’ll fetch Davies to go with you.’

  ‘There really is no need…’ Eve began, but Martha’s look silenced her. Meekly, she collected her shawl and set off towards the Gate House with Davies for company. It irked her to have someone dogging her every footstep, but she realised the necessity of it and smiled at the man. After all, it was not his fault that he had been ordered to protect her. Most likely he would prefer to be off chasing smugglers rather than walking behind her.

  There was a lamp burning in the window, but when she knocked on the door it was a long time before there was any response, and then it was only Aggie’s rather nervous ‘Who’s there?’ from within.

  ‘It is only me,’ Eve called cheer fully. ‘I have brought your basket. You left it in the kitchen.’ The door opened a crack. ‘Well, Aggie, will you not invite me in?’

  Aggie peered out into the gloom.

  ‘Aye, mistress, but your man must wait outside.’

  ‘What is the matter, Aggie? Are you in your nightgown with your hair in rags?’ Eve chuckled as she slipped in through the door but her smile was replaced by a look of surprise when she saw Aggie wearing one of Silas’s smocks and a pair of baggy trousers. ‘What on earth—?’

  ‘There’s a run tonight, and as Silas can’t go I shall have to,’ explained Aggie, looking anxious. She ran a hand over one leg of the trousers. ‘These sailor’s slops fits me better nor most of Silas’s clothes.’

  ‘Surely this cannot be necessary.’

  Aggie’s mouth pursed. ‘Do you think I’d be going if it wasn’t? There’s not enough boys to go out tonight as it is, and without Silas they’ll be short of hands. I’m waiting now for Nat to call for me.’

  ‘You must not go,’ said Eve, setting down her basket.