by Claudy Conn
“Go to bloody hell!” Swit snapped. He hated being cornered.
“You will make the run the night after next, just as we planned. A great deal of money will exchange hands for what Bellingham will be giving us and we have to have our share.”
Swit eyed Horwich consideringly. “And if I won’t do it?”
“Don’t test me, Swit. I have no scruples whatsoever and if you must be eliminated, so be it.”
Swit’s brow raised up. This scoundrel meant it. He would kill him if he pulled out now. “I tell you what then Horwich. I’ll make the run with Jacob’s yacht and the regular crew, but then, I’m out—gone. Agreed?”
“We’ll see,” said Horwich downing his ale. “Now let’s order some dinner.”
* * *
Exerilla was all too aware of the silence as they rode their horses toward the forest and the narrow wooded trail that led to the cottage.
She concentrated on the thickly screened sylvan setting and asked herself what she was doing. She was a wanton woman, or at least, that was how he would view her in this time zone, in his social culture. Breathless, she sighed over the problem. Should she demure? Should she backtrack? Every common sense she owned told her to run. She was heading for a fall that she would never recover from. Still her heart and body ganged up on her and onward she went.
She made a feeble attempt and called out to him as he wielded the narrow trail just a short distance ahead. “Hunter!”
He turned and saw her face as he raised his brow and rode his horse back to her. “What is it, love? Doona ye want to be with me?”
“I…this is a mistake,” she said. It sounded like a lie even to herself.
“No, we…och lass…we need time together. Doona ye think so, my own sweet heart.”
She felt a schoolgirl blush heat up her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. It was just what she wanted. She wanted his arms around her and his lips on hers. She said, “I’m not sure.”
“Then when we get to our cottage if ye want to leave, I will immediately escort ye home.”
Magic words. “Our cottage?” she asked, eyeing him. He was purposely being sentimental to tempt her further.
“Aye,” he said. “I have been fighting this. Och lass! I canna tell ye how much I have been fighting this…but no more. Aye then, our cottage.”
They arrived. He held her close as he helped her to dismount and whispered, “I best be taking the horses to the back paddock. Go in, love and I’ll be with ye in but a moment.”
Oh Holy Sweet Moly. How she loved his voice. She knew exactly what she was doing. She went into the cottage and found the lantern, lit it, and put it on the table. When she turned, he was walking straight for her. He was hard and fast and hungry.
They came together like a gentle eruption on a sweet warm summer night; full with its scents and full with emotion. This time she was the one who initiated the kiss. She couldn’t wait to touch his mouth with hers as she parted his sensuous lips and teased his tongue with a dance she knew was all their own.
His body shook with passion. His mouth devoured hers and she heard him groan with pleasure as their one kiss multiplied into many. She felt like a savage.
She couldn’t wait to get her clothes off and her inner witch was itching to sparkle them off with magic. She managed to throw off her riding jacket and helped him to get his off as he undid the buttons of her blouse.
“Ye take m’breath away, lass, do ye know that? Men say it all the time, but this, this is what it means.” His lips were on hers again.
She didn’t know how the rest of her clothes came off, or how he had lowered her to his riding coat resting on the hearth rug, but that was where she found herself. She looked up into his blue eyes.
He was tender and full of affection and gentleness as he nibbled at her ear and neck. He worked his way down to her breasts which he fondled with both hands, moaning before he suckled there.
She arched her back as her arousal heightened and she softly said his name. He stopped suddenly and looked at her. “Exerilla, I love it when ye say m’name. Say it again, and again.”
She did as he asked, and all the while his lips traveled over her belly. His hands found their way under her bare rump and he lifted her as his chin parted her hot thighs. He started there at her cleft and he sounded feral when he told her, “Wet and delicious, lass…”
He worked her as she had never been worked before. His tongue, his teeth, his finger all found her pleasure point and brought her to a climax that threatened to free her witch.
She was sure for a moment an explosion of white light had been emitted from her body. When she opened her eyes she found him straddling her, his huge hard shaft was dancing with eager readiness. All she could think was…now…more, right now.
“Hungry little wench, m’darlin lass,” he murmured as he got into position with his rod and whispered her name. “Exerilla…ye were made for me. Do ye feel what I feel?”
“I don’t know what you feel, but this feels right,” was all she could offer him. They had now. That was all she would have with him was now. In a few months, she would return to her time, and he would be stuck back here in his.
The thought made her desperate. His kisses blazed a path over her body. She was on fire for him and she wanted him inside of her, pumping away, making her all his. She was headed for heartache, because she knew this was it. This was the one.
Her rump once again in his hands; he raised her up and thrust harder and faster and sent her into a world of sensation. She pumped against him while hearing the low throttled growls of pleasure come from deep in his throat. She was emboldened to meet him thrust for thrust.
All at once, he stopped and pulled out. His words were edged with feeling and passion. “This way, lass.” He rolled her over and lifted her up so that she was on her hands and knees. Her rump was against his hard cock as he thrust into her again, until she exploded with the onslaught.
He didn’t stop. He was like a wild man as he yelled out her name, lunging into her. He was giving so much more than he took, as his hands fondled her back into passion once more. All at once, they climaxed together and sank onto the hearth rug in one another’s arms.
No one spoke for a moment until he said, “Did ye feel that, lass? Did ye feel that white lightning between us?”
“Yes,” she said and decided to leave it at that.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” he added and reached over to fondle her breast. “I doona want to let ye go. I want to take ye home with me and keep ye as m’own.”
She laughed. “I’m not a wind up toy.”
“Wind up toy?” He shook his head. “Ye say strange things, Exerilla Radley. I still claim ye as m’own. There be naught ye can do aboot it, but enjoy.”
“Ha! There will be no claiming, here. I am my own woman,” she said and eyed him a warning.
He laughed. “So ye are, and I like it. Want it or no, I claim thee for m’own,” he answered stubbornly.
She smiled and touched his cheek “Then I have the right, to do the same.”
“Aye, lass ye have the right. I give it to ye freely,” he said and kissed her long and sweetly.
* * *
Two days had passed since Hunter had seen her.
He thought he would go mad. Mary Horwich had taken Exerilla with her on an overnight trip to visit with a friend and do a little shopping.
At any rate, he had a job to do. Tomorrow he would see her, because he couldn’t bear another day without her in it.
No time to think this out. Night had already fallen and he had to concentrate on the job at hand.
He was energized and slightly confused by all that he felt because of the lass. He was also ready for the action he had promised his brother he would take.
As he sat his horse and waited, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He had met his match in Exerilla Radley.
She was everything he could ever want and more, and yet the question of her being human, remained.<
br />
When they had joined, he had felt a connection of something more than passion and more than what he had expected.
A bolt of light had engulfed him and he thought it was from his magic. He hadn’t been able to explain it, other than thinking something deep in his wizard’s soul had decided the human girl was his mate.
Her scent lingered long after he took her home and that scent was more than human. It tasted of his own brand of magic. He shrugged the notion off. He questioned himself for doubting her. She was a very special human, but human all the same. She could have magic inside her and not know it? It may have been shielded from him. He could still feel the sensation of floating when he escorted her home that afternoon, after they had made love. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her and never leave.
He knew he had to see her safely home. Somehow he had managed the strength to pull himself together.
He had escorted her back to Horwich and left her there. He could still feel the sensation of feeling momentarily stunned. He didn’t want to leave her and go. Not even for a night. It was as though an invisible thread, beautiful and bright held her to his heart and body. Breaking that thread had left him empty and lost.
During the past two days, he had visited Horwich House only to find that Mrs. Horwich had taken her off for a short trip to visit with a friend.
He had been devastated to find she wasn’t near.
She could not be with him forever. She was human--she would grow old and die and he would be lost. He had allowed this to happen.
Even so, he had decided he had to be with her for as long as time would allow. He could not do without her, human or not.
This evening, however he had to take care of business and put matters into motion. Jerry Swit had finally returned. He looked haggard and unhappy which was very much unlike himself. Something was wrong with him, as though he had been spooked.
His lordship had watched him as he scarcely ate before announcing that he was off for town. Hunter looked at Jacob who shrugged his shoulders as they finished dinner quietly together.
His lordship waited only a bit before he headed out and it didn’t take him long to find Swit sitting on the front steps of the Mermaid Tavern.
Hunter tethered his horse to the hitching post and sat with him. “Ye doona look happy, man.” He saw Swit’s hand on his gun and added, “Ye will never have it cocked in time.”
Swit had already relaxed his hand when he recognized the voice and shrugged, “Eh, tis you then? Couldn’t quite tell in the dark. What in thunder brings you out this evening? Thought you and Jacob were going to settle in for a night of cards.”
“I might ask ye the same thing, but I don’t have to…I actually know.”
“What do you think you know?”
“That you have been playing spy for the enemy.” Hunter’s voice was grim and hardened. He allowed no room for dissembling.
Swit released a long breath of air and sounded beaten. “Are you working for the someone else then?”
“Not exactly. I am working for m’own end, and have m’own rules,” Hunter answered on a warning note.
Swit peered through the darkness. “Never say you want to be paid for your silence.” Clearly he was shocked by such a notion.
“Doona be daft. What ye will give me are the names.” Hunter’s voice was unflinching and certain.
“What are you asking me to do?” Swit’s hand frazzled his hair.
“Who supplied Horwich with the billets he has been shipping off to the French army and Napoleon? Who?”
“Why should I tell you that?”
“Because I will help you out of this mess, if from this night on you make up for your lack of patriotism by working to help me.”
“I want amnesty,” Swit said.
“I can’t give you that. I really am working for myself, but help me and I won’t expose the part you played with Horwich in the past. Agreed?”
“Blister it, Hunter! I…”
His lordship cut him off. “The names, Jerry.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“It is a matter of honor, doona ye feel it? The soldiers fighting with Wellington shouldn’t be betrayed. My brother is on his staff and I mean to help him find out who is the traitor.”
“Ah, your brother,” Swit said with sudden dawning.
“The name of yer connection. Doona ye see it? He is supplying the French with our military secrets and falsifying intelligence arriving from our people over there. There are some looking at m’brother and pointing a finger in his direction. We canna have that now can we?”
Swit blew out a thoughtful whistle. “Right then. His name is Bellingham, but before you get yourself all excited, he got spooked. Says he won’t deliver anything more to us. Told Horwich to deal with someone else, and I swear I don’t know the name of the new man.”
“It doesn’t matter. What about the man on Wellington’s staff?”
“I’m not sure…”
“Right then. We are going to close down the entire operation. Who was yer French connection?” his lordship asked quietly.
“Now there is the rub,” Swit answered with a frown. “My business has been land smuggling. Most of my life, I have had to engage in such. I don’t like blabbing out names. Bad for business, you know.”
“I don’t care who ye smuggle brandy with. I want the name of the man who took the billets from ye on the French side.”
“That’s just it. He was just a middleman. His mainline is brandy. We’ve been partners up and down the coast, more years than you know and longer than I’ve known Horwich.”
“Jerry, I need the name,” his lordship returned grimly.
“No. He isn’t your man. What you need is to know who Bellingham was working with in Belgium and who his contact on Wellington’s staff is. Not your brother, so do process of elimination.”
His lordship mulled this over and Jerry added, “Can I have your word to keep me out of this muddle?”
“Jerry, you deserve to be hung with the rest of them. Get in my way, betray me now, and any agreement we have will no longer exist.”
Swit eyed him consideringly and shrugged “Fair enough.” He sighed heavily. “The truth is I told Horwich I wanted out. I don’t hold with betraying my country. A little brandy. Aye, free trading we call it sure, but not this sort of thing.”
“Ye know more than ye are telling me,” his lordship accused.
“Here it is then, David was already smuggling brandy with his father, long before I met him. I liked working with the squire. He was no nonsense and oddly enough not greedy. He liked the blunt, but was easily satisfied.”
“Get to the point and no embellishments,” his lordship interjected.
“Right . The point being, the squire and I managed quite well until David met up with Bellingham.”
“Och aye! We have established Bellingham from the Home Office works with ye…”
“Hold on, I’m getting to it. Certes! Let a man work his way into it.” Swit grimaced at him and continued. “You see it wasn’t so simple at first. Bellingham came to David as a representative from the Home Office. They wanted us to run our messages to a courier for Wellington. French excisemen look the other way when their boys smuggle brandy out, you know.” He eyed him then. “It wasn’t until late in the game that I realized Bellingham was altering the messages that Wellington would receive. I came to understand that he was helping the Frogs, he was. I don’t hold with that. So, you have to consider how many men on Wellington’s immediate staff? One of them has to be the traitor. Find him, and you clear your brother. You don’t need my Frenchy.”
“Aye then, Jerry, your game is played,” his lordship cautioned.
“Mine yes, but you had better watch your back. Horwich wants you dead. Has a fancy for that pretty Radley chit and means to have her one way or another. He told me to try and push you overboard the other night.” He grinned. “I told him, you never gave me your back.” He
scratched his head. “I know I said that at one time, that I wanted to bed the lass. All this business. I don’t know. I’ve lost interest.”
“I will see him rot in hell before he ever touches a hair on Miss Radley’s head,” snapped his lordship.
Swit eyed him interestedly then and said, “Aye. Mayhap we’ll all be meeting in hell one day.”
~ Nineteen ~
SIR JACOB UNDID his cravat and threw it across the room, aiming poorly at the dresser table and missing it.
His companion eyed him thoughtfully and patted the bed. “Come Jacob, tell me what is wrong.”
“You know what is wrong, so don’t patronize me,” Jacob retorted irritably. “I can’t do it. I simply cannot offer her a life that would be a lie. I like Exerilla too much for that.”
“You would be saving her from a life of drudgery at the Horwich House. She can never hope to make a match with no dowry and no entre to the Haute Ton,” Lucas Osgood cajoled as he put both hands behind his head and moved into a reclining position against the large pillows against the headboard of his bed in the inn’s largest bedroom suite.
Sir Jacob removed his waistcoat and hung it over a chair. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Lucas and thought how devilishly attractive he was. “You always patronize me.”
“I am sorry, Jacob. I did not realize I was doing that, but think about it. You will give Exerilla Radley a good life.”
“No, I would be giving her an empty home. She deserves to have a man she can love and one who can love her back.” He sat on the bed beside Lucas and said on a groan, “I can’t do what you ask.”
Lucas’ expression turned ugly, “You are just a boy without sense. You need to prove your manhood to the world, produce an heir. You can do that much and we can proceed comfortably together without anyone wiser.” He took Jacob’s hand. “Don’t you want to move forward with me?”
“You have no cause to ask that,” Jacob answered quietly.
“I am some years older. It may be that you have had a change of heart, of taste?” Lucas said not quite meeting Jacob’s eye.
