Smuggler's Moon

by Cynthia Wright

  She was still holding the sheet up, sighing inside, when she heard a throat-clearing sound. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she turned to find Sebastian regarding her with drowsy gray-green eyes, one brow arched. Quickly, Julia lowered the sheet.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  “You’ve been watching me again.” His voice was scratchy with sleep.

  “It’s the only time I can study you in peace, you know. If I look at you when you’re awake, you avert your face or simply walk away.”

  His hand hadn’t left her breast. Very slowly, gently, his fingers flexed and Julia nearly gasped aloud with arousal.

  “You will say anything.” His eyes darkened with desire. “Would you care to look at another part of me if I promise not to walk away?”

  She could scarcely breathe as he turned her toward him and levered the sheet with his elbow. The sight of his male arousal sent so fiery a tremor through her that she instinctively closed her eyes.

  “Now who is avoiding whom?” Sebastian taunted softly.

  “Touché, my lord. It’s just that…that is a very impressive display.”

  “Ah, thank you.” His fingertips lightly pinched her nipple, then blazed a trail over the curve of her hip, across her belly, before gently probing into the curls between her legs. Of course, she was slick and swollen, and a knowing smile touched Sebastian’s mouth. “You are quite impressive yourself, my lady.”

  Their eyes locked, smoldering. When his glance drifted toward her breast, Julia trembled with the realization that he meant to take her nipple into his warm and skillful mouth, to—

  Just then, a loud thumping came at the front door of the Hall, followed by a strident male voice demanding, “Open! I demand that you open to me, in the name of the King!”

  The spell was rudely broken.

  Clearly annoyed and, Julia thought, perhaps even a bit alarmed, Sebastian looked toward the window. “Who the devil is that?”

  Julia had known at once, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

  It was Adolphus Lynton.

  * * *

  From below them came the sounds of Mr. Snuggs throwing open the door and shouting back at the intruder, “Are ye cakey, man? What ails ye?”

  Sebastian was already out of the bed. In seconds, he pulled on his clothes and left her behind without a backward glance. Lying there alone, Julia felt the warm, tingling desire seep out of her body, replaced by anxiety. What on earth could Adolphus Lynton want, and why was he here, behaving like a constable with a warrant? Part of her wanted to avoid him, to stay put until he’d gone, but curiosity won out. Soon she had buttoned herself into a simple day dress, draped a pale rose shawl around her exposed arms, and started down the steps. She lifted her hands to her tousled hair as she went, twisting it into a rich dark-brown coil that she pinned up atop her head.

  There were voices rising just outside the door, and she recognized one of them all too well. The memory returned of her walk through Fowey, when she had seen a man who so resembled Lynton that she nearly called out to him. It had seemed impossible that he could be in Cornwall, but clearly he was, right outside her home.

  “My good man,” she heard him exclaim, “I must inform you that you are speaking to the Searcher of Salt! I am here in the service of His Majesty the King, to ferret out the criminals who are smuggling salt into Cornwall.”

  “You are a ridiculous buffoon,” came Sebastian’s curt reply. “I ought to toss you into the river for trespassing upon our peace at this hour.”

  “Your rudeness is shocking, sir. Furthermore, this is an hour at which all honest folk are about, tending to their work. Only those who labor in secret, under the indecent cover of darkness, would still be asleep at this time!”

  Just then, Julia emerged through the arched doorway, into the sun-dappled garden. “Hello, Mr. Lynton,” she said calmly. “We meet again. It is indeed a small world we live in!”

  Adolphus looked as if he were on his way to the Pump Room instead of a rustic estate in the wilds of Cornwall. Wavy hair lay across his brow, he was fashionably pale and thin, and he wore pale yellow pantaloons and a gray striped frock coat. The sight of Julia made his eyes bulge.

  “M—Miss Faircloth! Can it be you? Yes, yes, I see that it must be you, but I cannot understand what brings you to…” Then, a slowly dawning awareness of the situation made him close his mouth, frowning.

  She went to Sebastian and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. “Did you not know of my marriage, Mr. Lynton?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did hear that you married, but nothing about Cornwall.” He glanced suspiciously toward Sebastian. “I had understood that you wed a stranger to save your family from poor Mr. Faircloth’s unfortunate debts. That seemed to be the only plausible explanation, since I have been well aware that you were adverse to matrimonial ties for yourself.”

  “How cryptic you are, Mr. Lynton,” Sebastian said. “Is it possible that she might prefer me to you?”

  “I would request that both of you speak of something else,” Julia exclaimed.

  “Yes, tell us why you have charged onto my property at dawn, Lynton. Do you suspect me of stealing salt from the local fishermen?”

  Adolphus pursed his lips until they began to turn white. “My good man—Trevarre?”

  “My husband is Lord Sebastian Trevarre,” Julia corrected him.

  “By all means then, my lord, I will tell you again that my goal, as Searcher of Salt, is to root out the blackguards who are illegally bringing salt into England. As you are doubtless aware, that salt is used to cure the locally caught pilchards, and is often smuggled in from France, thereby depriving the Crown of necessary tax revenue. ’Twould seem that Cornish folk believe they are beyond the law.”

  “More likely,” Sebastian replied in acid tones, “they can barely purchase the salt to cure their fish, let alone pay His Majesty’s exorbitant taxes!”

  Julia looked up at him in surprise. She hadn’t seen her husband so angry since he learned that he’d been tricked into marrying the wrong sister.

  “It is the King’s law,” Adolphus persisted, “and must be obeyed.”

  “And if the taxes mean that the fishermen cannot feed their families?”

  “We must each tend to our own matters. Perhaps you would like to feed the local people yourself, my lord? For myself, I have criminals to apprehend and I must be vigilant!”

  Julia could feel the tension in Sebastian’s body and knew he was very close to picking Adolphus up by his intricately tied cravat and tossing him into the woods.

  “Good morning!” came a call from the corner of the manor house. It was Tristan, striding toward them, looking carefree, his ruffled hair agleam in the sunlight. When he reached the trio, he turned to Julia with a look of mischief and bent low over her hand. “Your servant, my lady.”

  Sebastian looked annoyed by this latest distraction. “What brings you here, Senwyck?”

  “I have been seeking Adolphus Lynton, Searcher of Salt. A fellow in Bodinnick told me he saw him come this way.”

  “I am the Searcher of Salt,” cried Lynton, puffing out his chest. “And you may also address me by another title, recently earned: Lieutenant Lynton, Supervisor of His Majesty’s Riding Officers!”

  “Indeed? What good fortune to discover you here, sir!” Tristan bowed before continuing, “Allow me to present myself. I am Tristan Penrose, Viscount Senwyck, and my home is Lanwyllow.” He glanced toward Sebastian, adding, “His lordship and I have been acquainted for many years and I am particularly pleased that he and his bride have settled in our charming corner of the world.”

  Adolphus began to relax. “How good it is to become acquainted with a Person of Quality such as yourself, my lord. May I ask what brings you in search of me?”

  “It is not long since my father passed on and I became Viscount Senwyck, a title which brings with it a certain burden of responsibility. I have become concerned of late about some illegal activity in the area—”<
br />
  “You must mean the nefarious practice of smuggling!” Lynton exulted.

  “Indeed, sir,” came Tristan’s grave response.

  Standing across from them, Julia felt as if something wasn’t right. She looked up at Sebastian and saw that his face had been wiped clean of expression. Whatever he was thinking or feeling as he watched his friend ingratiate himself to Adolphus Lynton, was a secret.

  “And how might I assist with your concerns?” Lynton inquired.

  “I want to be of service to my King, and to my people, sir. If you will have me, I would like to join you as a Riding Officer for the Crown, in pursuit of those who would twist the law to suit their own purposes.”

  Adolphus Lynton gave Sebastian a triumphant look before bowing to Tristan and replying, “I welcome you, Lord Senwyck, to the service of the King!”

  Chapter 19

  “Kindly enlighten me,” Sebastian said to Tristan as they sat on a bench in the garden and drank mugs of hot tea. “What the devil were you on about with that pompous fool?”

  The younger man laughed. “Is it safe to speak openly?”

  “Yes. Julia is directing breakfast preparations in the kitchen, so she won’t overhear. But be quick. She’ll be bringing the food before we know it.”

  “I was in Bodinnick this morning when I saw Lynton turn his horse into the lane leading to Trevarre Hall. After a villager told me he was not only a Searcher of Salt, but also the newly appointed supervisor of the local band of Riding Officers, I rather feared that our ‘enterprise’ was ended before it had truly begun. When I arrived here, I heard you insulting him and defending smugglers, which seemed imprudent, to say the least.”

  “One minute in the company of that puffed-up halfwit destroys any patience I possess. I found it impossible to hold my tongue—”

  “Until I arrived,” Tristan reminded him.

  “When you started fawning over him, I was stunned into silence.”

  “You’ve got to admit that it distracted him from your behavior, which was damning, to say the least. I half-expected you to loudly announce that you were a smuggler, then challenge him to a duel!”

  This brought a grim smile to Sebastian’s face. “And what about your brilliant solution? I thought you’d lost your mind when I heard you declare that you aspired to become a Revenue Officer!”

  “An inspired plan, if I do say it myself. Since there seems nothing for me to do on the ship, I shall be a double agent by spying on Lynton and keeping him distracted. Additionally, I can cover your tracks when he becomes suspicious, as he most certainly was today!”

  Sebastian stared at his young friend. “Yes, it might work.” Glancing at the house, he saw Julia carrying a tray through the open door and rose as she drew near. “You can also keep an eye on my wife while I’m at sea.”

  “That would be my pleasure,” Tristan said with a boyish grin as he assisted them in laying out breakfast on the garden table.

  “What’s that, my lord?” asked Julia.

  Sebastian looked at his lovely wife who was still a bit disheveled from their bed, her sable locks pinned up so that tendrils curled haphazardly around her face. His gaze drifted to the fashionably low neckline of her gown and lingered on the first curves of her breasts. The heat that had been building between them earlier returned in a wave, and suddenly not only was he hard again, but he longed for that sense of playful closeness between them.

  From a distance, he heard Tristan speaking: “My lady, I was just telling Sebastian that I should be delighted to look in on you if he is called away on business. It would be my pleasure!”

  “You needn’t keep saying that,” Sebastian said. “It sounds as if you’re trying to woo my wife.”

  They both looked at him in surprise. “I advise you to sit down and eat something,” said Julia. “Clearly that visit from Mr.—that is Lieutenant Lynton has put you out of temper.”

  “Perhaps because that fool was leering at you as well! Everyone, it seems, lusts after my bride.”

  “My past with Adolphus is not a secret.”

  He nearly choked on his bite of warm biscuit topped with honeycomb. “Your—past?”

  Tristan was grinning at them from across the little table. “I must say, you two are vastly entertaining!”

  “My lord,” Julia said to Sebastian with maddening calm, “do you imagine that you are the only person in this marriage who has enjoyed the attentions of persons of the opposite sex?”

  “Exactly what sort of attentions are you referring to?” Sebastian demanded, annoyed that he was unable to remain as unruffled as she. Then it came to him: a long-ago moment at Turbans, when Julia had referred to Lynton as her suitor. It had been the same afternoon that Sebastian had given her what he would still swear with a blood oath, had been her first kiss.

  “When we were in Bath, Mr. Lynton begged for my hand in marriage.”

  “Did he indeed?” His confidence restored, he gave her a lazy smile. “I presume that you refused him because you were occupied with planning our exceedingly romantic wedding?”

  Their eyes met above the pots of jam and honey, sparks flying. Julia, ever candid, replied, “If you think to bait me, I must disappoint you, sir. I did not mean to imply that I ever had feelings for Mr. Lynton, only that other men have wanted me.”

  “Before I courted you and proposed marriage?”

  “Would you kindly help me bring out a fresh pot of tea, my lord?”

  Sebastian watched as she walked away toward the house before he rose as well. “I would counsel you to pay attention, my friend,” he told Tristan. “Marriage is a challenge at every turn.”

  No sooner he had come through the small door into the back of the house, than Julia grasped his arm and pulled him around the corner into a tiny room where ancient-looking jars of preserved fruits were stored.

  Her eyes flashed up at him. “I do not enjoy being toyed with, as if I were a mouse and you the cat!”

  “What the devil are you talking about?”

  “You, sir, referencing not only our ‘courtship’ and your ‘proposal’ of marriage to me, but also our ‘exceedingly romantic wedding,’ when both of us know that it wasn’t that way at all. You taunt me in front of Lord Senwyck because you know that it embarrasses me and I cannot respond as I would like.”

  “Gad, Julia, must you always speak so plainly? Can you tolerate no subtlety in conversation?”

  “Subtlety—at my own expense! Isn’t that what you mean?”

  He inclined his head slightly and bit back a smile. “Perhaps.”

  “Oooh!” She raised her small fist as if toying with the notion of striking him. “You make me furious.”

  Sebastian caught her wrists and backed her into the rickety shelves of jam jars until his strong body was fully in contact with hers. He could feel the quickening beat of her heart through his linen shirt. Her soft lips were parted in outrage, and he wanted so much to kiss her that he did it.

  “Mmmph!” cried Julia. She struggled for a moment and then, as he pinned her wrists against the shelves, he felt her succumb to the wave of arousal that surged through both of them at once.

  For a long minute, they kissed hungrily. Julia’s breathing quickened and her nipples made tight peaks against the thin stuff of her gown. Sebastian was just about to throw caution to the wind and press his erection against what he knew was by now a swollen, aching need between her legs. Where could he have her? Would she allow him to carry her away up the stairs while Tristan waited in the garden?

  “Mmph!” Julia cried again, and this time the sound conveyed a different meaning.

  Panting, Sebastian let her end the kiss. Looking into her heavy-lidded eyes, he was absolutely certain that she was in the grip of just as much passion as he, but now she had brought her hands up to his shoulders and was pushing at him with all her might.

  “Are you mad?” he demanded.

  “Certainly not, but I think you must be! I brought you in here to tell you that I will
not suffer your outrageous behavior a moment longer, that you must treat me with respect rather than thinly veiled mockery! And how do you respond? By ravishing me in the storeroom as if I were some sort of—trollop!”

  For the second time that morning, he was left with an aching need that was destined to go unsatisfied. Watching Julia whirl around and flee back into the kitchen, Sebastian decided that it was just as well. This was no time to make love to his wife. On the contrary, he was a newly minted smuggler and ought to cut every tie that was not related to that treacherous enterprise.

  * * *

  Back in the courtyard garden, Sebastian discovered Tristan drinking cold tea and chatting with Keswick. He joined them at the table, but felt annoyed by the trill of birdsong and the sight of butterflies gliding to and fro among the flowers that Julia had been tending in the garden.

  Tristan reached into his fashionably cut coat, drew out two letters, and presented them to Sebastian. “I nearly forgot, there was another reason I visited here today. When I was in Bodinnick, the mail coach stopped at the Ferry Inn, and these were left for Trevarre Hall.”

  “I can’t imagine who knows that we live here.”

  “One is from Bath, the other from London. I saw the name ‘Raveneau’ above the seal.”

  “My lord,” Keswick said, “can you have forgotten that you now have close relations in Bath? They must know her ladyship’s whereabouts.”

  He gave the little man a dark look. “You have a talent for saying precisely the thing that will provoke me.”

  Tristan shifted on his chair and surveyed the cheerful bees and butterflies. “I was just telling Keswick, Trevarre Hall has been transformed, inside and out, since you brought her ladyship to live here. Thank God she agreed to marry you.”

  “I will thank you to keep your observations to yourself.”

  Tristan and Keswick exchanged glances, then lifted their teacups and drank in silence.

  “And you two can stop looking at each other that way. I’m not blind, you know.”

  Keswick cleared his throat. “We surmise that his lordship is out of sorts, particularly regarding her ladyship, because of the new undertaking we three are engaged in. It must be very difficult to not be able to share something so weighty with one’s own wife, especially when that wife is still a new bride.” His peaked brows rose higher. “If you take our meaning.”