“Ahh. Jade. I have no self-restraint to spare, here.”
“Well, it’s in my way now. And it feels really nice and ... friendly.”
“This has been a long two weeks,” Marcus said. “In so many ways.”
“I missed you, too,” she said, arching, seeking greater closeness as his hips sought hers in the same frustrating way.
Stroking him boldly now, despite the placket of his trousers between them, drat her and bless her, she was bringing him to near-painful arousal, a sweet torment after weeks of celibacy. “Oh God.”
Jade managed, with tenacity, to unfasten his breeches and free him into her hands, making him ready to burst.
With like perseverance, Marcus kept from spilling his seed while clumsily shoving her clothing aside. When she didn’t protest, but urged him to hurry, he slid into her sheath, supple as a leather glove, fitted, warm and welcoming. “God, it’s been so long.”
“Very long. Mmmm. Just the way I like it.” Jade moved against him, inasmuch as she could, and took him deeper.
“I meant the duration of ... Ahh ... our restraint was ... long-lived. Fourteen days.”
“Fifteen.”
Barely able to move, they dallied slow and torturously sweet. A splendid stroll up a steep, steep hill, each beat offering a more sensual glimpse of the blazing treasure at the peak of the climb. A celebration of life at its best to see them through a long, dark night.
When they reached the summit, glistening and exhausted, the treasure that awaited swelled and burst, showering them with stardust. Spent and serene, they drifted to sleep.
The door hit Marcus in the head.
His curse woke Jade.
Light spilled upon them in a harsh, appalling splash.
Grateful they were bound so close that nothing could be seen, Marcus stilled. “Get the hell out,” he snapped to the form standing above them.
The sardonic chuckle in reply made Marcus swear. “Damn it, Garr. Shut the bloody door. We’ll call you when we’re ready to be rescued.”
Garrett left them in silence, closed in, still bound by rope, and flesh to flesh, as well.
Marcus slipped reluctantly from Jade’s enveloping warmth, no longer afraid this might have been their final loving, but grateful, despite himself, that they’d been granted the bittersweet interlude.
“He saw us,” Jade whispered. “Garrett saw us.”
“He didn’t see a thing, love,” Marcus responded, kissing her velvet ear. “We were too close for him to see anything, and completely dressed, give or take an inch or two.”
“Or ten!”
Marcus chuckled, but her comment had been a bit loud with Garr just outside the door. “Thank you, darling, but I meant an inch or two of fabric, not of me.”
“Oh.” She sighed. “He’s going to want to know why we weren’t ready to be rescued.”
Muffled against his neck, her statement bore hope, yet if he granted it, she would face Garr unprepared. “He won’t wonder, Jade, because he already knows.”
“But you said he didn’t see anything,” she whispered furiously.
“Garr has a good imagination.”
A stifled wail. “I’ll never live it down.”
Marcus chuckled as he kissed her nose. “I hold in reserve several humbling moments of his, with which to torture him in just such an event, and he knows it. I don’t think we’ll hear anything more about this.”
They fumbled to put each other together.
“As usual, it was impossible for me to think straight while we were so close. I don’t like being apart, Marcus. But there’s no other choice for us.”
“I know you think so, love, and I’ll continue to respect your wishes. But I’d as soon we had no regrets.”
Jade nodded; he could feel her movement, then she surprised him with a chuckle. “If you had become aroused sooner, I wouldn’t have had to wonder who I was tied to. I would have known immediately.”
“Any man you were tied to would react that way, my dear, sweet Scandal.”
“Really?” She all but purred. “But I would have known, on the instant, whether it was you or not.” She stroked him, root to tip, calling forth a half-growl-half-shout.
“That singular sound,” she said. “Is the sound of a smug scoundrel admitting he can be tamed by an innocent miss from Sussex.”
“A mischievous miss, a rare scandal from Sussex—a seductress, sometimes an ice queen, sometimes breathing fire, but at all times bearing the key to taming me.” He kissed her nose. “Are we ready? Can I call Garr in, now, to untie us?”
“I suppose we can’t stay here for the rest of our lives.” Regret laced her words. “Emily would miss you.”
“Us. She’d miss us.”
“And we’d miss her.”
Hope filled Marcus as he called Garr to let them out; Jade had united them, if only in words, and only for Emily’s sake, yet he took that as a good sign, however fragile his hope.
They rode home in a coach, the three of them, their horses tied behind, because not a one of them had the strength to mount or keep their seats ... for various and sundry black and blue reasons.
“God’s teeth, I had a rousing good time,” Garrett said. “Damned if I’ve fought like that in a devil’s age.” He flexed a bruised fist and beamed with pride.
“Garr the Scapegrace wins the day,” Marcus said.
Garrett bowed his head graciously, duly lauded. “Stodges was a right one. Did you hear? He went straight for the magistrate and got Baldy locked up.”
“Baldy?”
“Onion Breath,” Jade explained.
They grinned, all three, sporting sore heads, everyone. Among them they could boast of half a dozen gashes, more bruises than could be counted, two split lips and three and a half black eyes.
Jade was grateful that the eyes, turning a vivid blue-black as she watched, belonged to the scoundrels Fitzalan.
She ached in every part of her body, save one, and smiled remembering.
Garrett caught her satisfaction and winked.
Warmth stole up her neck.
“Where did you hire this hack?” Marcus groaned, unaware of the undercurrents passing between Jade and his brother. “That floor was softer than the jostling we’re getting in this rickety heap.”
“No doubt your comfort on that floor had to do with the ... er ... position you were in,” Garrett drawled.
Jade sunk deeper into the squabs.
“He’s jealous,” Marcus said near her ear, loud enough for him to hear. Then he nipped her lobe and kissed her quick but hard, almost wishing they didn’t have to step back into a world where she believed he didn’t belong.
It had come home to him, with Garrett walking and about to marry, that the only thing left keeping him and Jade apart was Jade’s aversion to the railroad. In other words, Jade, herself.
A steep and challenging mountain.
He couldn’t even see the top, but Jade was worth the climb.
They arrived at Peacehaven near three in the morning, every window in the house ablaze, every member of the household, it appeared, waiting at the door, all speaking at once.
Emily had gone missing.
They’d been searching for hours.
“Damn!” Marcus said. “She must have seen one of us leave.”
He held up his hands when everyone began, again, to talk at once. “Lacey first.”
It seemed Lacey had gone up for the night barely twenty minutes after Jade departed, only to discover Emily’s bed empty.
“But I kissed her, sound asleep she was before I left,” Jade said.
“Then she must have awakened and saw you leave,” Marcus said, unthinking.
Jade cried out as if he’d slapped her.
He took her hand. “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean to imply—” But, no use. Jade shook her head, refusing absolution, guilt swamping her, as it would him in the same circumstance.
Damn me for a loud mouth, Marcus thought. Nothin
g he could say would help, so he held her hand and attempted to sort through the mess of information to find the answers they needed in order to find Emily. “Lacey, what did you do when you found her bed empty?”
“I checked Jade’s room, then I went to check yours.” Lacey placed her hand on his arm. “She’s not alone, Marcus. Mucks is missing too.”
Astounded by her naiveté, Marcus hated to point out that a half-pint pup could hardly be considered ample protection for a child wandering alone in the middle of the night. “Where else did you look?”
“The whole bloomin’ house, attics to cellars,” Beecher said. “Even checked the nursery and woke the children to see if any of them knew where Emily went.”
Lacey swallowed a sob. “We walked the water’s edge with torches, as well. The Channel, not the river.”
Jade’s knees seemed to give out. Marcus lifted her in his arms and carried her to the salon to lay her on the settee, but he’d no sooner done so than she stood to pace.
Everyone followed them, chattering and conjecturing.
Beecher called for quiet this time. “Jade, darlin’, Marcus, that little girl’s been following the two of you about since her mother left. Where were you, tonight? She might be lost on the road even now.”
“We might have passed her by,” Jade whispered.
“Re-light the torches,” Marcus ordered. “We’ll trek the Lewes Road together and spread out into the underbrush along the way, giving it a wide sweep. That way, we’ll know all the ground has been covered.”
“The road leading to the Lewes Road parallels the river,” Jade said, but her words were no more than a wobbling rasp.
“You’re beaten,” Beecher said, regarding the travellers. “Literally. Let us walk to Lewes. Why don’t the three of you wait here, in case Emily returns? Rest for a bit.”
“No,” they said as one.
“We won’t stop as long as she’s missing,” Marcus said, and Jade and Garrett agreed.
Everyone else departed as Garrett kissed Abby’s brow. “Stay here and take care of our little one.” He caressed her middle as if he were caressing their child. “I love you both. Get some rest.”
“Be careful,” Abigail said, not masking her worry.
Garrett nodded, bracing himself on his canes, and made his way outside, well behind everyone else. By the time he cleared the house, he saw their torch lights bobbing in the darkness far down the drive.
With no way to catch up, he decided he might be smart to search nearby. Aware of his own limited ability, he wondered how far Emily’s little legs could take her. She would tire quickly, and when she did, she’d seek shelter to rest, hopefully.
A place that would appear safe to a child.
Garrett made his plodding way to high ground, the cliff he could see from his window.
From there he surveyed Jade’s property, starting at the western edge across to the valley between her land and the mouth of the River Ouse to the east, Newhaven Harbour at its base.
Scanning the area, he saw a building, familiar in these parts, a round structure made of quarry-stone blocks—dungeons some called them because each had only two windows. The one in the distance seemed like a child’s toy from here, yet it had once been all too real to the Sussex smuggling trade and the smugglers’ families who went hungry.
Fifty years before, the Preventive Water Guard had set up a Coast Blockade, constructing the round towers as stations guarding the coast. A few were built inland as well at Newhaven Harbour and up the River Ouse. Several officers’ families had lived in each station, while the officers, themselves, used them for bases of operation.
Most of the towers had fallen prey to coastal storms over the years, like the one near his home in Seaford, nothing but rubble marking their earlier existence. The rare few left standing were deserted.
The one Garrett could see remained intact. He started in its direction, an unexplained logic urging him on.
With his lagging gait, amid dew-drenched high grass in the dark of night, he faced quite the walk. Nevertheless, he would do whatever he could to find the little girl he hoped for all their sakes might one day become his niece.
He lost sight of the odd round barracks as he went down one small hill and up the next, but he plodded on. When he feared he might have to stop and wait to be rescued himself, his reward came.
A dog barking. A tiny sound for a tiny dog.
“Mucks?” Garrett shouted. “Emily? Are you there?”
The pup met him, whipped to excitement, running in circles, toward him and back toward the tower in a frenzy, barking madly.
“I’m hurrying,” Garrett said. “Fast as I’m deucedly able.”
It seemed an eternity since he’d seen the guard tower from the cliff, but it came into sight again, as he topped another rise.
But Emily wasn’t there. At least not anymore.
While Garrett hesitated at the threshold, Mucks ran farther afield, toward the river. With the closest he could get to haste, Garrett forged on.
He approached the riverbank as dawn broke, and he saw her ... floundering, fighting to stay above water, losing the fight. Though she was not too far distant, it might have been miles for all the use his blasted legs would be. The river flowed with the tide and if she drifted further south, she’d be lost to the Channel.
Another test for his legs, an impossible one. “Emily, It’s Uncle Garr! I’m coming!”
Saying goodbye to Abigail, vowing his love, Garrett dove into the River Ouse.
Chapter Twenty
Shock arrested Garrett by small prickling inches, numbing him, yet bringing him vitally to life. His legs worked better in the water. He’d never been so grateful for anything.
He’d expected to sink like a stone, but had to try, even if he died doing it.
Emily had the sense—and likely a last spurt of strength and energy because she saw him—to try and meet him halfway. Hope could be a powerful ally—no one knew that better than him.
His swim to the point where they met seemed to take an eternity.
When he reached her, Emily clung too tight to his neck, cutting his air, and he feared they were done for after all. But when her panic diminished, she responded to his plea to loosen her hold. And once they headed toward shore, she aided their watery sojourn by moving her legs against the pull of the tide.
Her natural instinct to swim likely accounted for her ability to stay above water, though her strength would have run out soon enough. Clearly, she was tired.
The fact that ebb tide was at its lowest and weakest point worked in their favour and Garrett thanked the deity. When he got Emily to the bank, they held each other so tight, he could feel their hearts, like battering rams against their chests.
The water on Emily’s face ran with tears, as did his. “You’re not lost anymore, Emmy-bug.” He squeezed her, catching his breath. “I found you. Uncle Garr found you.”
“No!” She pushed away from him in a fever, and began to slip and slide her dripping, determined way up the muddy bank.
Bloody hell.
Garrett’s legs, made suddenly of India rubber, gave out when he tried to stand. “Where are you going?” he shouted in desperation. “Mama and Papa will want to know.”
His words stopped her. She turned, fired with longing for less than a blink, then fell to the ground weeping.
Garrett all but crawled over to her, and once he got there, she gave up the fight and allowed him, again, to hold her. Eventually, her hysterical gibberish conveyed her sobbing certainty that Marcus and Jade had gone to join her mother in heaven.
She didn’t want an uncle, or anyone she might lose, again. She wanted to go to heaven too.
Heart heavy, Garrett rose, standing the child with him—a colossal effort forged of the same rigid tenacity and inflexible pride that, at one time, all and sundry predicted would be his doom. He reassured Emily, as he managed it, that she was wrong. Mama and Papa were fine and looking for her.
Sh
e didn’t quite believe him, though she quieted somewhat.
“You tried to follow, didn’t you? Was it Mama you saw leaving?”
She nodded and began to weep more quietly, hiding her face against his leg.
“Mama and Papa are out looking for you right now, Emmy-bug, and they’re very worried. They were going to look as far away as they must to find you, but because I can’t go very far with these sorry legs of mine, I had to search nearby. Thank God.”
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