by Claudy Conn
“He is in Brussels with Wellington and the only news I have is that the gentry are all having a rollicking time, a ball or soiree every evening and yet, our forces stand ever ready. They haven’t a notion about what is about to befall them, how could they?” he frowned and hurriedly added, “No one knows what Boney will do, is what I mean.”
“Oh, that’s right June-1815, Brussels—Waterloo,” Exerilla exclaimed without thinking and also frowned. She had such a stupid loose tongue.
He puzzled up and asked, looking penetratingly at her, “What do you know of Waterloo?”
She felt his scrutiny and knew she had to find a way out of her blunder, “I have a friend back home, in North Carolina, who had traveled to Belgium—Brussels and passed through a village called Waterloo. The name stuck in my head.” Whew, she saw doubt in his blue eyes but he seemed to accept this.
He said, “Aye then, let’s pick up the pace lass, we need to hurry for that cloud is moving in fast and it is black.”
They reached the woods and slowed to a reasonable trot. She saw him glance to the far right. A narrow trail slightly overgrown wound through the woods toward the west. She pointed and asked, “Oh, where does that trail lead?”
“I am not sure…” They were hurriedly approaching another pasture and he nodded at her as he pointed out the line fence, “Ye can see Horwich House from here, but we have a fence to manage, are ye up to it?”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” she countered and started off at a trot. She laughed as he put his horse into a steady lope, passed her and took his fence flying.
She continued at a trot, because Jack had set his pace. The experienced gelding knew just what to do as he easily, quietly tucked in and took his fence, Exerilla chuckled affectionately as she patted his neck and spoke lovingly, “That is such a fine old fella, yes it is.”
“Well done,” his lordship said jovially. “Not interested in showing off, is he? Just nice and steady.”
“Everything has its time and place and I’m sure old Jack has shown the others a thing or two in his day.” she answered with a warm smile.
He laughed out loud, “I’m sure he has, and what of ye lass, have ye enjoyed showing the others a thing or two?”
“Sure, everyone gives into it now and then,” she peeped at him. Holy good gosh, he was hot, so hot, and she was beginning to be way too interested.
He winked at her and she melted as she watched him move into a trot, but called after him, “My lord, I am sorry, but my old man Jack here, needs to be walked a bit. I don’t want to work him into a lather and then have to walk him down for ten minutes when I get to the stables.”
“What, no groom at Horwich?” his lordship was surprised into asking.
“Yes, but I can’t expect him to take the time out from his other chores, I think overworked already. I would never ask him to do what I can so easily manage.”
He eyed her thoughtfully, a slow smile curving his lips, “Then rain be damned! We shall walk the remainder of the way. It is only a minute over the hill.”
He maintained an easy steady stream of banter, engaging her in his light conversation and X found herself falling deeper into his net.
He made her laugh, think, feel, in fact; he made everything come to life right before her eyes. She felt so much more than she had ever felt. All at once she realized for the first time, there was so much more than being all about White Magic. It was a heady realization.
She did miss being able to use her magic. But if she had, would she have met this exciting man? She might have created a quiet little place to hang out for the months she was stuck in this century and never experienced all of this.
All of her life she had always known she could fall back on her magic. At school when she wanted to correct a wrong, stop a bully from hurting a friend, clean up someone’s mess, or just anything to make things right…she could blink and it would be better. But had it been the correct course of action for her?
If she forgot her purse and needed it, blink. If she needed to do more serious magic her wand could be called into play. She had always been protected. She experienced life safely from the middle, sheltered, pampered, and safe. This was a whole new world and she was having to learn to deal with it as a human. That was important, for it would expand her empathy for others, it would bury the dark in her deeper.
Now here was this man, this human man, who suddenly made life sparkle.
She was in it deep—right up to her eyeballs.
She would be leaving in a few months and he would no longer be a part of her life. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
They reached the Horwich stables when a grizzle bearded, wiry man came ambling out toward them. His lordship was already out of his saddle, on the ground and reaching for her to lift her from her side-saddle, saying, “There now lass, allow me.”
“Ah, but…” Exerilla started to object, “I can dismount myself you know.”
“A lady thanks a gentleman for such an office performed,” he returned gently.
She eyed her booted toes and said softly, “Thank you, my lord.”
He helped her down, taking no liberties, turned to chat the groom up a moment, and flipped him a coin. X smiled to herself. He appeared to have a kind and generous nature.
He took her arm, a short walk brought them to the double doors of Horwich House where X turned to his lordship, her gloved hand extended. Purposely, she averted her eyes. She just didn’t want to look into those blues just before she went inside. She didn’t want to contemplate at that moment.
Thus, she stood, staring at his mid-section, which proved to be a mistake as her imagination began stripping away his clothes.
Vividly, she saw his naked torso, so hard touchable, and so enticing. Stop, she told herself, what are you doing you stupid girl?
She felt his blues surveying her and was sure of it when he chuckled and said, “Aye?”
She managed to squeak out, “Thank you, my lord. It was very gallant of you to see me home.”
“And it is very remiss of you not to ask me in for a moment’s rest before my journey back to the Towers,” he answered glibly.
Her eyes flew to his face and though she hadn’t blushed in a very long time, she was sure from the heat in her cheeks that she was doing just that right then and there. She didn’t think women actually invited men inside in this era, and wasn’t sure if cared. She smiled and said, “Oh, I do beg your pardon. I assumed you wanted to be on your way so as not get caught in a downpour.”
He walked in, his eyes never straying from her face, she stumbled as she stepped backwards. He reached out to steady her by her shoulders and she felt a bolt of energy shoot from him to her, and ran through her body. It was sexual yes, but so much more. It felt like magical threads weaving through her muscles. She was being absurd. Magical thread? She felt like an impressionable teenager.
She licked her lips and tried to regain her composure, “Would, er…would you like some refreshment? A drink, before you head back?”
“I would, lass,” he said softly.
She turned abruptly about and walked toward the parlor through its open double doors. Without glancing back at him she went to the sideboard, she could feel him; she sensed every step he took as he followed her. She felt him at her back, his body so close, and wondered if he would touch her. She couldn’t deny she wanted him to touch her. She was in for a ride, if she didn’t get this under control.
“Where would the good Mrs. Horwich and the squire be?” he asked softly.
She couldn’t think with him so close. She made the mistake of turning her head to look at him with her answer; which caused her to gulp back saliva before she could answer, “I am not sure.” She turned away from him and removed her gloves, and poured a bit of brandy into the snifter and handed it to him without looking back at his face. “Brandy?”
He took it from her and took a sip. He put it down then followed her across the room watching her as she took
off her top hat and unbuttoned her riding jacket.
The fire beckoned and she put out her hands to it. “Hmm, this is the best thing about coming in after a ride…a nice fire.”
“Exerilla,” he said as he moved to take her hands and put them to his lips.
She saw a strange glimmer flit through his blue eyes. She would have called the look in his eyes, uncertainty, but she couldn’t believe this man was ever uncertain about anything. He always seemed to be in control.
He pulled her in against his body and she gasped, “What are you doing?”
“Taking m’leave of ye lass…properly,” he said huskily, as he bent his head.
She wanted him to kiss her. She had been wanting it the entire ride home. She damn well wanted him to kiss her and that was all there was to it. She could deny it to the world, but not to herself. So what if she and he weren’t meant to last. So what if she was an immortal witch about to return to the future in a few months. She felt something with this man she had never felt before and every inch of her wanted to explore that feeling!
His lips touched hers and wild bursting rockets exploded somewhere overhead. She couldn’t think any longer. Their connection was too hot to contemplate. This was what melting in a man’s arms actually meant. She was melting beneath the heat of their bodies touching.
White flames surged through her veins, it wasn’t just lust. It was bursting stardust, the kind her mother had told her only happens once in a lifetime to a White Witch.
That wasn’t possible. He was a human. It wasn’t supposed to happen between a human and a witch. This couldn’t be. This was lust, she told herself, simple, lust. She had never felt this before. Her pulse throbbed, her heart beat so hard that she thought he would see it through her chest. Her body trembled and her mind screamed go for it, take him now and let him take you.
His tongue teased the tip of hers, licked and joined in a dance with hers. He tantalized her into wantonness and she held onto him for dear life.
His hand found its way to her breast; his touch was bold through the thin material of her blouse. His fingers manipulated her nipples with a skill that left her breathless and wanting more.
He released her and Exerilla reeled with the suddenness of the freedom. He put a finger to his lips to warn her. Someone was coming. Somehow he had heard someone coming. She had heard nothing; she had sensed nothing, only him, his touch, and his kiss.
A moment later, he stood by the sideboard sipping his brandy and she sat with Mrs. Horwich’s knitting basket in her lap. She didn’t know why, because she hadn’t a clue how to knit.
David and the squire walked in, David looked at his lordship with an expression of irritation. The squire, however, walked forward with his hand outstretched and a smile across his face. “You must be MacTorry. They told us at the stable that you were here.” He turned toward David and with a cocked brow said, “My son, David.”
As they exchanged polite, if wary greetings under Exerilla’s watchful gaze, the squire exclaimed, “I see you found the brandy, my lord?”
“Indeed, and squire, while it is quite excellent, I hope you will accept a few bottles I purchased the other day. Though I cannot approve of how they arrived here, for I am told they never saw a custom house,” he cocked a brow and a smile at the squire. “I found this batch exceptional.”
Exerilla frowned. Although she was surprised she kept silent. The squire appeared to be thrilled and obviously would continue to welcome his lordship into his home. She watched as the squire bent his head questioningly toward his lordship and said, “French brandy; nothing like it. It’s all the better when it doesn’t pass through the customs house. We are of one mind, you and I.”
David’s eyebrows came together as he shot his father a strange look. Exerilla asked, “Hold a moment. I don’t quite understand. Are you saying that you deal with smugglers?” She directed her question at all three gentlemen, singling none out.
David hurriedly answered, “No. Of course not, dear. The flaskers run overland and sometimes on ours or a neighbors’ property, as they make their way to London.”
“So you are helping them hide from the excisemen?” she pursued.
“Not precisely, but it wouldn’t do to take a stand against them. It’s risky either way and best not to get involved. They leave a few bottles of brandy as their way of saying thank you.”
Exerilla frowned. “That is the same as helping them for payment.”
“You are a woman and don’t understand,” David said impatiently.
His lordship’s blue eyes twinkled at her. “ Being a sweet lass, ye are quite right. Gentlemen these smugglers are called, but gentlemen they are not. This business they are in sends gold to the French and we are at war with the French.”
The squire grumbled into his drink. David eyed his lordship thoughtfully and said, “An interesting point, my lord. Yet you purchased smuggled goods.”
“Aye that I did. If I were ye, I would wonder aboot that,” MacTorry said mysteriously. He then inclined his handsome head and moved to take up Exerilla’s fingers and put them to his lips as he bent over her hand. “I look forward to seeing ye on the morrow, Miss Radley.”
“I hope you manage to get back before the rain hits,” she said lightly and sighed to herself as he left.
The squire waited only long enough for the sound of the front door closing before he turned on Exerilla and said, “Where is Mrs. Horwich?”
“I couldn’t say.” Exerilla resented his tone and the manner in which he treated his wife.
“Damn the woman! No doubt off to see a sickly farmer when she should be here, attending to me.” He stomped toward the open parlor door. “I will tell cook to get dinner early. If she isn’t here in time, we’ll just sit without her.”
X frowned as she turned to look at David who simply shook his head and said, “One learns to ignore what one cannot change.”
“Hmm, I suppose,” Exerilla allowed doubtfully. She could argue the point, but what good would it do. These two men were already set and not about to change.
David went to sit beside her. “Don’t think poorly of me, Exerilla. He is my father yes, but…”
“It isn’t your father that would make me think poorly of you; only your own conduct that would concern me.”
“You don’t approve of the manner in which I conduct myself?” His brow went up, but his eyes stayed cool.
“I didn’t say that,” she answered softly. She didn’t need to make enemies while she was momentarily stuck at Horwich.
One hand went to her shoulder and the other to her arm in a deft movement. As he tried to draw her closer his voice was low. “Exerilla, don’t think I don’t care how my father treats my mother. There isn’t anything I can do about it. They are what they are. If my father mistreats my mother…” he shrugged. “…she allows it. If she allows it, I can’t stop it.”
“You don’t have to defend yourself to me, David,” Exerilla said wishing she could vanish.
“Oh, but it matters to me what you think of me.” He was moving in on her and she was fully aware that she was going to have to stop him.
Gently, she pulled out of his hold and stood. “I understand your position David. I haven’t known you long enough to think anything.” She got up and started to walk away saying, “Now it is time I go and change out of my horsey scented clothes.”
He stood up and took a long stride toward her, grabbed her arm and held her in place. As she turned to face him, there was shock as she arched her brow.
He said, “No Exerilla! You don’t understand at all…but I mean to show you.”
X nearly screamed. Something inside of her turned inside out with revulsion. She couldn’t bear his hands on her. She broke away before he could kiss her and said, “David, how dare you! I am a guest in your parents’ home.”
“Don’t fight this. Don’t fight me,” he whispered. “For I mean to have you. Yes, you are a guest in my father’s home and guests come and go.”
She heard the threat in his words. He wanted her to think that if she didn’t come across, he could put her out in the cold. That was what women of the time were subjected to…men like that. She made up her mind about him in that moment.
Before she could respond, his father returned grumbling to his wife about her tardiness. She was quietly following behind him.
Exerilla made good her escape; explaining as she passed them that she was headed for her room to wash and change.
Upstairs, she had to collect herself. David Horwich could turn out to be a serious problem. She wondered how a woman without magic would handle him, and his unspoken threat. Magic was hers, but her mother had warned her she could only use it for life and death.
She knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to kick him in the balls the next time he tried to touch her. Although that made her smile, an inner voice cautioned that wouldn’t serve her situation.
She had to wonder if women who were accosted in this day and age, knew what to do. Mary would be no help, because she was a victim herself. She would first avoid ever being alone with him. While he did not live at Horwich House, she would get into the habit of locking her room at night.
~ Eleven ~
SIR JACOB WATCHED Jerry Swit move toward the docks. He was in the company of a seedy looking individual in seaman’s garb. Sir Jacob wondered what the man was up to.
He shouldn’t care, for now at least, until a few moments ago, he could walk off unnoticed.
It was nearing four o’clock. If he didn’t slip away immediately, it would be too late.
He waited until Jerry gave him his back and quickly hurried around the bend in the avenue to a narrow cobblestone alleyway. He felt a fool as he ran down the long, empty alley, thinking that it was a good thing no one was about.
He should have just bid Swit good-bye and taken off. After all he wasn’t a schoolboy about to be called to heel. He didn’t want to take the chance that Swit would either follow him out of curiosity, or simply tag along.
He slowed down and turned into another alleyway, which after twenty feet, put him at a back road dominated by a dirty-looking, unobtrusive tavern.
