by Lora Thomas
The gurgling noise emitted by the injured soldier captured Duke’s attention. He took the knife from Sarah’s hand and ended the injured man’s misery by slicing his throat. Sarah turned her head and paled.
“What happened?” Duke asked.
“Ah dinnae ken. Ah guess he shot my horse.” She pointed to the injured animal. “She fell on top of me. When ah managed tae crawl owt from under her, he caught me. We fought.”
Duke turned to the animal. The bullet had torn through the mare’s hind leg, hitting an artery. A large pool of blood had puddled under the animal.
“She’s dead.” Duke walked to the soldier’s horse and led it to Sarah. She took the reins of the horse from him.
“Better mount up,” he said. “We don’t have time to waste.”
She looked at him. Her pallor caused him to furrow his brow. She looked back at the man. He was dead. No, she killed him.
“He deserved to die.”
Looking at her trembling hands, she whispered, “I killed him.”
“No. Ya injured him. I killed him. There is no time ta dwell on the actions ya performed today. We have ta find Cameron before Stevenson kills Anna.”
Sarah nodded and walked to the horse. She felt like her legs were being sucked into the ground with each step.
“Snap out of it, woman! He’d a killed you just as easily.”
Sarah’s eyes locked onto Duke’s. Her fear sent her brogue—the one she took great care in hiding because of the tension between Scotland and England—in full force. “Ye kin be used tae killin’, bit I am no. But dea nae worry. A’m a Scott. Ah willna allow that man’s death tae hinder mah coorse.” She mounted the horse. “Whaur tae?”
The corner of Duke’s mouth twisted upward with humor. “Yer a feisty one, that’s for certain. I don’t think Joseph could handle you angry.” A twinkle entered his eyes. “Er understand yer Scottish brogue either. Comes out when yer mad, but it’s worse when yer scared.”
Sarah gave him an irritated glance and spurred her horse in the direction she was instructed to go. Duke’s laughter followed after her.
They reached the house a few minutes later. Before they had dismounted, Cameron emerged from the home. His welcoming smile melted like snow on a hot summer’s day.
“What’s wrong?” Cameron asked, walking to the steps leading off the porch.
“Anna,” Sarah said.
The look she gave caused Cameron to panic. He jumped from the porch and raced to the barn to gather his steed, with Duke on his heels.
“Duke, you stay here and meet with Mr. Fallon. Give him this.” He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Duke.
“But you’re the contact. He won’t believe me.”
“It’s a chance we have to take. Whatever danger Anna is in takes precedence.”
Duke grabbed Cameron’s arm and turned him around. “We’re talking about war. Freedom. Don’t let your lust drive your common sense away. This,” he shook the paper in front of Cameron, “is too important ta not get delivered.”
Cameron jerked his arm free from Duke’s grasp. “Damn it! She could be dead!”
“So could we all!” Duke sighed in frustration. “I know how ya feel about her, Cameron. She has filled the void left in your heart by Constance’s death. But we still have a duty ta perform.” He could see the protest building in Cameron. “I need somethin’ ta indicate that I am a friendly, not a foe. Is there a sign? A symbol? Code word?”
“The stars fall like snow.”
“What?”
“That will be the phrase Mr. Fallon will give. You will reply, ‘Unless Hell melts them first’.”
“Interesting,” Duke drolly replied.
“I don’t have time to banter back and forth with you, Duke.” Cameron entered the barn and saddled his horse. Turning he said, “Remember that phrase. It is vital. If the man presenting repeats anything but those words, burn the note.”
Duke nodded his head in understanding.
Cameron exited the barn on his horse and rode up to Sarah. “Tell me what has transpired.”
“I’ll tell ye on the way.”
Duke watched the pair leave. He hoped that Christopher had received the word about what had transpired at The Enforcer’s home. What he was accused of. If not, Cameron’s grief would be unsurpassed. The brothers fought like mortal enemies at times, but the bond they shared was unbreakable. They relied heavily on each other for support, humor, and comfort. If something happened to the eldest Morgan along with Anna, may God have mercy on Stevenson for Cameron would not.
The pounding on Christopher’s front door continued for what seemed like an eternity before his maid opened the door.
“I’m coming!” the woman yelled at the person pounding smartly on the door. She opened the door and gave the man a heated look. Her disapproving gaze surveyed the man. He was dirty with tattered clothing and reeked of liquor. His blond hair was standing straight up. He looked as though someone had dunked his head in a barrel of dirty water and hung him upside down to dry.
“May I help you?” she superciliously asked.
“I have a message fer yer master.”
The woman extended her hand.
“I ain’t kissin’ yer hand,” the man replied with a roguish smile.
“You idiot! Hand me the note and I will deliver it to him.”
He ignored her insult as he stared at her outstretched hand. “I have a package fer ya alright. But I don’t think it’s what yer expectin’.” He moved his eyebrows up and down as a lecherous grin crossed his face.
“You vile, rude barbarian!” She attempted to slam the door in the man’s face. Placing his hand on the door, he prevented it from closing.
“Get back! You are not welcome here!” the maid yelled.
The man shoved the door, sending the thin woman sprawling backwards, landing on the floor.
“Christopher!” the man yelled and began stepping over the woman. The second his front leg hit the ground, the woman raised her leg, striking the man in the groin.
“Damnation!” the man yelled, grabbing his groin and falling to the ground beside the woman.
“Mr. Christopher!” the maid yelled. She raised her foot up again and kicked the intruder in the face.
“Ow!” the man yelled, covering his face and rolling away from the fighting banshee.
Christopher entered the foyer to find his maid, Rebecca, and Duke’s associate, Edward, fighting. The squabbling pair was comical in their plight. Rebecca raised her foot up again and kicked at the short man. Edward rolled again and his hand struck the side of the exquisitely made grandfather clock.
“If you have scratched the clock that James Cox personally made for me, I will let her finish trouncing you.”
Edward looked at Christopher with relief in his eyes. He did not want to hurt the dainty creature fighting him like a rabid wolverine.
Chris looked at Rebecca again, who was about to pounce on the man. “Rebecca, please do not kill Edward. He is a deplorable man but at times I find him useful.”
The petite maid righted herself and dropped the cane she had acquired to hit the intruder. “Yes, Mr. Christopher.”
Chris refocused on Edward. “Why are you here?”
“I have an important urgent message from Duke.”
“Leave us,” Chris instructed the maid. She curtsied and left. Chris turned his attention to Edward. “Go on.”
“Major Stevenson has requested that ya be detained.”
Drawing his brow together with concern, he asked, “Why?”
“Seems he’s concluded that you an’ his missus are lovers.”
“Hmmm. That is problematic.”
“He’s sendin’ men this way as we speak. He locked his missus in da cellar. Duke an’ Sarah went ta find Cam.”
“Very problematic.” Chris pressed his lips together in thought. “Detain the major’s men.”
Edward’s eyes grew wide. “How do ya expect me ta do that?”
&n
bsp; “Be creative.”
“Be creative,” Edward mimicked in a high-pitched voice. “Why don’t I just stroll bare-assed naked down the street. Oh! Er better yet, just grab me a busty wench and have at it right in front of ‘em.”
“Go! Detain them,” Chris yelled and pointed to the door.
Edward left mumbling under his breath.
Chris ran his hand down the sides of his mouth in thought. “Rebecca!” he yelled.
The maid appeared immediately. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m assuming you were listening?”
“I…I…that is—”
“Come now. I know servants eavesdrop. I need a woman.”
In mortification, she squeaked out a, “Sir?”
“Busty, robust, full-figured women. At least two. No, make that three.”
“Sir?” Rebecca asked in mortification, her tone even higher
Chris placed his finger in his ear and wiggled it. “I say, Rebecca, if your tone gets any higher you would break glass. Now go! I need women!
“You want me to get you some prostitutes?”
“If that’s all you can find, then yes. But I need them quickly. And make sure none of them are blond or have blue eyes.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ll explain later. Redheads and brunettes. Yes, I think a multitude of hair colors would do nicely. But no blonds. Do you have any associates that fit that description?”
“Yes, sir. Mrs. Edwards has a maid that might work. So does Doctor Ingram.”
“I need them. Now, go immediately.”
The woman rushed from the home. Chris went into his study and began pacing the room. A short while later, Rebecca returned with five women. Each plump, robust, and busty, and all were redheads.
A twinkle entered Christopher’s eyes. He could not have planned it better.
“You did well, Rebecca. Now, ladies, I require discretion. What I am about to ask you to do may sound a bit unorthodox, but it will mean my life.”
One of the women walked over to him and smiled seductively. “Anything to help you out, Mr. Christopher.” She puckered her lips as if kissing him and then winked.
Chris looked startled. “Well, then. Here’s my plan……”
For the second time that day, someone was pounding Christopher’s front door like they wanted to knock it down. And for the second time, Rebecca answered it just as gruffly.
“Can I help you?” she asked superciliously.
Major Stevenson ignored Rebecca’s patronizing question and shoved his way inside. “I demand to see Mr. Christopher.”
“Now see here! That is no way to enter a home that does not belong to you!”
Stevenson ignored the woman’s protests. Examining the foyer, his eyes turned to a door. A female giggle followed by a delightful squeal captured his attention. He started towards the door.
“You cannot go in there!” the maid yelled. “Mr. Christopher has guests!”
Suddenly, the door to the room burst open and out spilled Mr. Christopher with two scantily clad, large-busted, redheaded women. He placed a kiss on one of the women’s lips while squeezing the other’s backside.
The shock on Stevenson’s face was obvious. The prim and proper Mr. Christopher, who dressed like a frilly dandy, whose clothing had more flourishes and ruffles than Anna’s, the same man who spoke in such a breathy voice that you thought he was whispering, was a lothario?
Another woman’s delighted squeal captured his attention. She emerged from the same room with only a knitted throw covering the majority of her body. She had the object draped around her like an oversized shawl but allowed the front to be open, exposing the inner sides of her enormous breasts. As the Major’s eyes scanned lower, he was thankful she at least had the sensibility to have on her skirt.
“Oh, Harrison!” another woman yelled.
The major’s eyes grew wide with shock as another ginger-haired woman exited the room wearing only her shift. Stevenson’s eyes took in each woman. There were all hefty with extremely large breasts and red hair. His eyes turned back to the dandy, who had yet to notice him, and who was delighting himself by pulling out the top of one of the women’s shifts and glancing down.
“Such beauties they are,” Christopher spoke.
“Ahem,” the major cleared his throat.
Chris’s eyes turned to the major. He feigned a look of surprise. “Why, Major. What brings you by today?”
“I need to speak with you.”
“Indeed,” Chris replied allowing his eyes to travel to one of the women in his arms.
Stevenson found the man’s amorous mood disturbing. He liked a good tumble as much as any man. But displaying such carnal admiration in front of others was offensive.
“Mr. Christopher!” Stevenson snapped, giving the businessman a resolute look.
“Hmmm,” Chris answered. He pulled his attention away from the women and looked at Stevenson. “Please excuse my rudeness, Major Stevenson. It’s just these lovely ladies always capture my attention to the point that I find it hard to tear myself away.” Placing a kiss on the lips of each woman under his arms and a longing glance at their breasts, he released them. “Please excuse me, ladies. I have an important matter to attend to.”
“But, Harrison,” one of the women pouted, jutting her lower lip out.
“Ah, ah, Margaret. The major needs me. Now, please wait for me upstairs.”
Once the women started up the stairs, Chris turned his attention to the major. “This way,” he said as he walked into the study.
The major cautiously followed. The room was a mess. Pillows and blankets were scattered all about the room—on the floor, the table, the desk?! Several opened bottles of wine were scattered about the room, along with feathers and silk scarves. Albert had to hand it to the milksop; he certainly knew how to “entertain” women.
Chris went to his desk and started to sit down. A giggle captured his attention. Out came another buxom red-haired woman from under the desk.
“Please excuse us, Eliza.”
Stevenson watched with curiosity as the naked woman left. Turning, he addressed Mr. Christopher. “Are there any more?”
Chris drew his brows together, pretending to think. “I believe that’s all of them. I think.” Chris looked under his desk. “Yes, that is all. Now please sit.” He gestured towards the sofa.
Stevenson looked at the object with mortification, wondering what acts had been performed on the upholstery. The major took a seat in the chair instead.
Chris sat down behind his desk. Resting his elbows on the desk, he leaned forward. “Now, Major, what is it that I can do for you today?”
“I know that you have been seeing Anna.” Stevenson leaned back into the chair and crossed his legs.
“Indeed I have.”
“So you admit it?” The heat to Stevenson’s voice was noticeable.
“Yes. She comes into my shop from time to time. I occasionally see her across the park or riding with her companions.”
Stevenson’s face turned slightly red. With anger in his voice, he spoke, “That is not what I meant, Mr. Christopher. I know that she has taken a lover.”
Mr. Christopher feigned a look of surprise on his face. It was difficult to hide his laughter as he watched Stevenson’s face turn purple from anger. “Pardon?”
“You are my wife’s lover.”
Chris laughed. “Oh, what a delightful accusation. While I admit that Mrs. Stevenson is a handsome woman, she is too…frail for my tastes. I prefer a woman I can hold onto.”
“You deny it!”
Chris kept his voice level. “Yes. Flaming-haired beauties are my preference. Those with a little meat on their bones and large…um…minds.” He held his hands in front of his chest representing the size of their breasts.
The major realized the description Mr. Christopher gave fit the harem of ginger-haired women who had been present earlier.
“But I have a man who could help you investig
ate this issue.” Chris placed his arms on the desk as a look of concern came to his face. “Would you like me to contact him?”
Stevenson looked at the prissy man. Was he lying or was he telling the truth? Were the women in the home just an elaborate ruse to make him think the businessman was telling the truth? But how would Mr. Christopher know that he was coming to see him? No one heard the order except…Sarah. The realization that she must have reported to this dandy of Anna’s infidelity was infuriating.
“When was the last time you saw Miss Back?”
Chris was taken aback. “Miss Back?” He leaned back in the chair, mentally telling himself to keep up this game. Taking a deep breath, he placed his hand to his chin as he pretended to think. “The day before yesterday I think. Or maybe the day before that. I’m not quite certain. Why do you ask?”
Christopher appeared sincere in his response.
“She left my home this morning and no one has seen her since. Anna is worried that something has happened to her.”
“Well, should I see her, I will have her report immediately to you. Now another matter, when will the ships in the bay be allowed to dock? My store is quite empty. This makes for unhappy wives leading to unhappy husbands.”
“I fear that is out of my hands. That is the governor’s decision.”
“Then I must pay him a visit. We must keep the officers’ wives happy so they can keep their husbands happy who in turn will win this war—making us all happy.”
“Indeed,” Stevenson replied dryly as he skeptically looked at the rambling man.
Stevenson stood. Chris came around his desk and extended his hand, giving a firm handshake to the major.
“Allow me to show you out. I must go posthaste to visit the governor.”
As they walked through the foyer, Stevenson noticed the busty, fleshy red-haired women come bouncing down the stairs. Chris motioned the women back up the stairs with a flick of his wrist. He gave the major a warm smile and opened the door.
“Please give your wife my regards. And should you need help in the matter we discussed earlier, please contact me. Now if you will excuse me, I have a small matter to attend to before I visit the governor.”
As Stevenson stepped out the door, he noticed Mr. Christopher heading up the stairs. Shaking his head, he turned, still marveling at the fact that Mr. Christopher was a lothario of large women.
