Rufus would probably drop to his knees and thank God if she chose Christopher. She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to cry.
What of Christopher? He seemed very sincere.
What do you want, Rheda?
popped into her befuddled brain. She was too tired and too hot to understand why the thought of giving up Rufus seemed the worst course of action when she’d sworn never to marry a man who did not love her.
With a sigh she rubbed her aching temples. What she really wanted right now was to cool down. She turned toward the cliff tops. A swim. She needed a brisk dip to clear her mind. Then she’d find Daniel.
Rufus moved toward the cliff, wanting to clear his mind and body of the scent, taste, and memory of Rheda. She needed a chance to sleep. Besides she was well guarded and would be waiting for him on his return. He’d left the manor and headed to the coast. He did not know what he hoped to find, but surely the smugglers would have left some imprint, some clue to where the boat had landed.
He had just made it back up to the cliff tops from one of the smaller coves when his eye caught a splash of blue. He ducked behind some bushes and waited to see who was about.
“What the bloody devil ... ?” He cursed under his breath. It was Rheda. Without any escorts. Where were his men?
A crafty smile broke over his lips. She thought she’d given everyone the slip. He would follow her and see who she met. With any luck she’d lead him directly to Daniel. He refused to admit that the tension invading his frame was fear. Fear she was meeting someone a lot worse than Daniel—a spy. A man whose relationship would see her pretty neck stretched on the gallows.
Could he live with the knowledge he’d sent her there? He almost dropped to his knees with the pain that lanced his chest. He couldn’t bear the thought of Rheda being hurt. He wanted to protect her. His name could do that. He had to marry her.
Rheda did not appear to be in a hurry. He made sure to keep a distance between them so she would not see him. He trailed her to the cliff tops. Then she suddenly seemed to vanish into thin air.
His heart leaped into his throat, and a cold chill skittered down his back. Had his frigid demeanor pushed her too far? Had she thrown herself off the cliffs? He raced to the cliff’s rim just in time to see her winding her way down a hidden path to what looked like a small cove below.
He’d found her secret swimming hole.
His blood heated, and his body reacted to the thought of a naked Rheda swimming in the sea. Her body glistening wet, her nipples hard from the cold sea water. His groin throbbed with the desire to see this goddess in all her natural beauty once more.
He did not even hesitate to follow her. What harm could there be? His mood brightened at the thought of being able to catch her vulnerable and naked.
He found a ledge a short way down the winding path and settled in to enjoy the view. He felt like a voyeur, yet something drove him to remain hidden. A woman had fooled him in the past, and he wanted to see if she was playing him false. His honor meant he would overlook her smuggling, but treason—never. Not with his father named as a traitor. He could not afford to have his name linked to another suspected spy. He’d never prayed so hard. Not treason. Please, not treason.
He sat with his back against the cliff, his long legs out in front, one foot crossed over the other, feeling the tension tightening his shoulders. There was no way she was going to escape him. This path was the only access from the cove. When he’d looked his fill, he would join her on the sand and ... He drew a deep breath and tried to calm his roaring libido.
Every nerve ending hummed as he soaked in the wild natural beauty before him. The sand was pristine, the color of dried hay in midsummer, a polished gold. The sea as smooth as glass, the color reflecting the light blue of the sky, with sparkling, sun-induced diamonds dancing across the sleek surface.
But what truly drew his gaze with ardent fascination was the fair-haired nymph standing like a pagan goddess at the water’s edge.
Ripples of tiny waves were lapping at the bare feet poking from beneath her light muslin gown, while her slippers dangled from the fingers of her tiny hand. Rheda’s opulent tresses fell in ringlets down her back, her head lifted as if in worship to the sun.
She looked so—young. So innocent in her freedom. He could almost believe she was not party to treachery. That she was not the renowned smuggler aiding England’s enemies.
If he lived to be a hundred, Rufus knew he would never fully come to know this woman. It left him wary. Her energy, drive, and audacity knew no boundaries. She’d managed to set up one of the most successful smuggling operations in Southern England, aiding not only her but the women of the village, while avoiding selling herself in marriage. She’d remained her own person, bound to no one and proud of it. She didn’t care that she’d given up her position in Society. She could have taken London by storm, making an excellent match for herself and aiding Daniel, but freedom meant more to her.
He understood that desire more than anyone. The freedom to be oneself. How could he fault her for achieving the one thing he’d dreamed of most of his adult life?
For one short moment jealousy ate at his soul. He envied her the simplicity of her life. He couldn’t afford such luxury. He had a mother and a sister to protect. If not for them he would have been free to pursue his desires, even pursue a woman like Rheda ...
He almost let out a startled gasp. Like Rheda—he’d never once in his life thought of a woman as being perfect for him. Something had changed. Women had simply been vessels for enjoyment, satiation, and pleasure. He always knew eventually he’d marry in order to produce an heir. He’d marry for duty and to protect his family name. Never once had he let himself have false hope that a marriage would be more. Hope of finding that one special woman—a woman who made his soul sing and his heart soar.
He thought back three months ago to Anthony and Melissa’s wedding day. The couple appeared radiant as they stood at the altar, engrossed in each other. As Rufus watched the service, he’d never seen a man so content and a woman so loved.
Rufus hadn’t understood the feeling churning in his gut as they’d said their vows. He hadn’t realized that it was envy streaking through every fiber of his being, followed by intense regret that he’d never find such bliss with Clare. He’d marry for his family, and the unfairness of that had almost been more than he could bear.
Rheda bent to run her fingers through the waves. A fierce need ripped through him as he watched her.
She was his
. He’d been her first lover, and a possessive hunger to be her last sank deep into his heart, branding him deep in his soul.
He admired her inner strength. To save a bankrupt estate, singlehandedly, from the age of seventeen was a feat most men could not achieve.
A warm pride flowed through his bloodstream at the thought he’d been the first man to unleash her passions. Yet the scene she’d set for him in the bathing tub was worthy of an experienced courtesan. His fists clenched thinking of how he’d lost control and with no thought to the consequences to his family, he’d taken what his body craved.
Five years ago Marguerite had bedazzled him, too. His own vanity coupled with her beauty and apparent desire fooled him into believing she loved him. Yet all the while Marguerite was working for the French. He’d been such an easy target, so desperate to learn anything of his father. So eager to have someone love him despite knowing of his father’s sin.
Rufus closed his eyes on the haunting memories. His gullibility had cost the life of his friend and partner. He vividly recalled Andrew lying dead at his feet, while all he’d been able to do was sink to his knees, gripping the dagger stuck in his own side. Marguerite’s final insult had been to blow him a kiss as she galloped off.
Three years’ work destroyed because he could not see past a sweet face, soft words, and pretty lies.
The hackles on his nape flexed. Never again would he let a woman trifle with him.
Use him. Humiliate him. Betray him.
Never.
He would not become bedazzled by Rheda. Damn the minx. He did not want to have this burning heat and desperate need inside of him.
He stood and took a steadying breath. He stepped down onto the sand. He would not lose. Not again.
As he made his way across the sand he heard a sound that froze him in his tracks. Her shoulders were hunched and her body shook. Rheda was quietly sobbing.
He stood motionless ... a woman’s tears.
Rheda sank to her knees and began sobbing in earnest. Loud wrenching sobs that caused his chest to contract.
“Don’t cry.” He spoke before he could stop himself.
She looked up through wet eyelashes and tried to stifle a sob.
He knelt down next to her and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Everything will be all right. I give you my word. Daniel will come to no harm if he is as innocent as you say.”
Chapter 20
S
he closed her eyes wearily. “Everything is such a mess. I only needed until the end of summer and I could have finished with Dark Shadow for good. No one would have been the wiser. Now ...”
“There is no need for anyone to know about Dark Shadow. All I want is the spy.”
She swallowed hard. “What if you don’t find the spy?”
“I’ll find him.” His voice held a savage edge. “I’ll not stop looking until I do.”
“You’ll need Dark Shadow’s help until he’s caught. Won’t you?”
He sat on the sand beside her, his arms resting on his bent knees. He was silent, staring out over the water for what seemed like ages. Would he answer her?
“I never wanted to work for the government.”
“Then why do you?”
“As you are learning, life is full of consequences.”
“What did you wish to do with your life?”
He gave a wry smile. “We have something in common. Remember? I told you. I wanted to breed the finest racehorses in all of England.”
She ran her fingers through the sand. “I’d loved to have done that, too, but they won’t let women enter horses in the General Stud Book at Weatherby’s. So breeding cavalry horses was my only choice. What stopped you?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “My father’s death.”
She stared long and hard at Rufus. “Finding this traitor is personal to you, isn’t it?”
A muscle in his jaw clenched. “The spy could be my salvation.”
“I don’t understand. How?”
“I’m hoping the spy can reveal the truth about something that occurred many years ago, or at least tell me who would know.”
She sat up and declared in wonder, “You want to prove your father innocent.”
His head lowered and he sighed. “Yes. But it’s also about me. I need to atone for my failure. I should have been with him on the day he died.”
She put her hand on his arm. “The late Lord Hale, and indeed Lady Hale, always spoke so highly of your father. They did not believe he was guilty of aiding the French. Is that not enough?”
He ground his teeth, as if striving for control. “I just need to know the truth. Was the father I worshipped a traitor? Was my upbringing a complete lie? It’s the not knowing that kills me.”
She saw the despair in his eyes. She laid her hand over his heart. “You know the answer to that. Deep inside, you know.”
His gaze flew to hers. He sucked in an audible breath. “God, you’re right.” He thumped the sand. “I know he was innocent, and I owe it to him to expose the perpetrators of such a lie.”
“I can’t imagine spending so many years of my life chasing a truth I already know to be true. It seems such a waste—”
He started to rise, but Rheda grasped his arm, detaining him. “Would your father have wanted you to fritter away your life on this pointless quest? Revealing the truth won’t change anything. Whatever you uncover, your father will still be dead.”
“But my family will be free,” he growled. “Not everyone is content to live in the backwater of Kent. My mother’s life was taken from her. She was shunned by many whom she called friends, and she lives her life too ashamed to show her face in Society, the only world she had ever known. Now Madeline, my younger sister, is due for her come-out. What sort of husband will she find with a traitorous father? It is not always about oneself, Rheda. I have responsibilities. Others to take care of.”
Rheda hung her head in shame. “I’m sorry. You’ve uncovered my worst sin—selfishness.” A surge of anger shot through her. Anger at herself. She picked up a stick and threw it in the sea. “It’s entirely my fault. All of this,” she said softly. She looked at him and pleaded, “I’m sorry.”
“Why didn’t you simply tell me the truth, Rhe?” He looked at her, his eyes reflecting openness instead of his normal distrust.
She knew he meant about the barrel. “At first it was because I couldn’t take the risk. You might have arrested me, and the further shame would taint Daniel. Then it was because your arrogance annoyed me—”
“You mean if I’d asked you nicely you’d have told me?”
She smiled. “Maybe.” She gave a small chuckle. “No, that’s a lie. I didn’t want to tell you because”—she took a deep breath—“I knew you’d despise me once you knew I was Dark Shadow.”
His eyebrow rose, and he cupped her chin in his hands so that she had no choice but to look at him. His eyes probed the secrets hidden within her. Finally he asked, “Why was that important to you?”
She tried to pull away. She didn’t want to face the answer to his question. His very nearness sent a shiver through her.
“Tell me,” he insisted.
“I—that is—I was attracted to you. I’m sure most women are,” she added hurriedly.
“Attracted?” He gave one of his bone-melting smiles. “Is that all it was—attraction? You promised no more lies.”
She pushed at the hand holding her chin. “All right, damn you. I have feelings for you, even though I tried desperately not to.”
He believed her. Her face flushed with color, and she squirmed in embarrassment. She wasn’t telling him this to mollify him. She already knew he’d protect her, he’d offered her his hand in marriage. She would be safe.
“Then why did I find you crying?” Women. He’d never understand them.
“Because I can’t marry you,” she said on a heavy sigh. “For all the reasons you mentioned. The scandal surrounding me, the sacrifices you have made for your ...” She rose to her feet, and he followed. He stood behind her as she looked out over the sea. Finally, she turned to face him. “I think I have a way out for you.”
He was intrigued. “A way out? Perhaps I don’t want a way out.”
Her pretty eyes filled with unshed tears. “I am trying to be noble. To do the right thing. To be selfless.”
“Which is?”
“Christopher has offered for me. He has always wanted me. I could—”
He grasped her arms in a biting grip. Fury like nothing he’d ever known swept through him.
She was his.
“No. You will not marry another.” She gasped, her face a mask of shock. “You’re mine.” And with those words he pulled her hard against him and took her lips in a kiss he hoped would drive the thought of any other man from her mind.
Rheda stiffened until suddenly she softened against him and they were kissing with frantic intensity, as if the truthful conversation just witnessed wiped the past week’s battle of wills clean.
His hands slid up her back to twist in her hair, while her arms wrapped around his neck in a tight embrace. She clung to him. Their tongues mated in a fever of need, and she was making hoarse sounds of pleasure.
In a blinding flash, he realized this woman was perfect for him. He would never be satisfied with pious and dull. He wanted a woman with wild, uncontrollable passions.
Her confession about her feelings for him made him hope for more. If it was possible, they would have a marriage with mutual affection, if not love ...
As the kiss grew more feverish, Rufus’s restraint shredded. While keeping his lips locked to her, he shrugged out of his coat. Picking her up in his arms, he made to lay her on the garment, when something near the rocks on the left of the cove caught his eye. Someone was struggling in the water. He heard a small cry, and he set Rheda on her feet, ripped off his boots, and dove under the waves.
In a few long strokes he reached a boy struggling in the water. It was Connor. “Okay. I’ve got you. Don’t panic. Put your arms around my neck. Not too tight or I won’t be able to breathe.”
The lad did as he was told. Rufus could tell he was near complete panic. The boy was shivering so hard, Rufus could hear his teeth chattering.
As Rufus waded in to shore the boy cried out, “Rhe,” and promptly burst into tears. Rheda held out her arms, and Rufus gently lowered the boy into them.
“Connor. Hush now, you’re safe.” But the boy just kept sobbing, drenching her dress with tears.
Rheda whispered, “I’ve no idea what he’s doing trying to swim around the point. The rips can be very dangerous. He knows better.”
Rufus looked at the young boy shaking and crying in Rheda’s arms. “Something has frightened him. A near drowning maybe, but there was no rip and he was still swimming strongly when I reached him.”
Rheda couldn’t take her eyes off Rufus as she held the sobbing boy in her arms. Her body flamed, very conscious that Rufus’s torso was still bare. She watched entranced as a trickle of water ran down the side of his neck, disappearing into the black hairs on his chest. She reached out and caught the next one with her fingertip. His chest muscles flexed under her touch.
She jerked her hand away. Rufus remained crouched next to her. His eyes held hers, and she nearly forgot that she held Connor.
She sat gently rocking him, and gradually his shaking subsided and his cries subsided into sniffles. “What happened, Connor? Why were you swimming around the point? You know it’s dangerous.”
Connor pressed his cheek into her chest. “I had to get away from the man.”
Rufus started at his words, and she noted his hands formed into fists so tight his knuckles turned white. “Did the man hurt you, Connor?” he asked gently.
The boy shook his head and clung to Rheda even harder.
Rufus cursed under his breath.
“What man? Why would a man want to take you, Connor?” Connor did not answer her; he merely turned his face away and buried it in her dress.
“There have been several young boys who have gone missing or turned up dead over the last twelve months,” Rufus said. “My good friend, Lord Alexander Montford, asked me to investigate while I am in Deal.”
Something in his grim tone alerted her to the fact that she would not like the answer to her next question. “Why would a man want to take young boys ... ?” Her words petered out when Rufus raised his eyebrow and shook his head. She gasped. Her father’s lifestyle meant she’d been privy to an education in the seedier aspects of life. She hugged Connor tighter. “How many boys have gone missing ?” she asked, sick to her stomach.
“Six—that we know of. The last one only a week ago.” Rufus gently pried the boy’s head out from between her breasts. “Connor, we want to stop this man. Can you tell me who he is?”
Connor shook his head, his eyes wide with fear. “He wore a black leather mask, but he had a French accent.”
Rheda and Rufus exchanged glances, horror and hope lighting their eyes. The spy.
Rufus’s voice held a more urgent note. “Where did he take you, Connor?”
Connor hiccupped. “He grabbed me at Jacob’s Point and dragged me back toward Dead Man’s Cove. I bit his hand and managed to break free. Then I ran into Harding’s Wood. I lost him for a while, but when I emerged he found me again. So I dived into the sea and swam. I knew about this cove because I helped you and Mother ferry the goods ashore. All I had to do was make it to the caves, and I could make my way into the manor through the tunnels.”
“Ah!” Rufus said. Rheda flushed with color. He knew her secret. He shook his head before standing and pulling on his shirt.
“Can you get the boy up to the house and alert Stephen and the men? I’d use the tunnels just to be safe. I’m going to try and track him. It’s the best lead we’ve had so far. Tell Stephen to send some of the men to Harding’s Wood and the rest to follow the cliffs south of Jacob’s Point.”
Rheda bit her lip. “Why don’t we all go up to the house and you can take the men with you?”
“There’s not enough time. Connor’s abductor probably won’t search for him for too long, not wearing a mask. I have to go now.” He bent down and sweetly kissed her lips. “Tell Stephen to hurry.”
Then he raced up the hidden path to the cliff tops. Rheda and Connor watched until he was gone. “Can you walk, Connor?”
The boy rose to his feet but clung to her hand. Together they made their way across the warm sand to the boulders hiding the entrance to the cavern system that ran under Tumsbury Cliff Manor.