Jaded Moon (Ransomed Jewels Book 2) (19 page)

“I need you,” he said, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

She tried to pretend she didn’t understand what he meant but she did. She knew only too well. Granny’s cottage was only a short distance away and before she could utter a word of protest, the reins were in his hands and the horses were trotting across the meadow.

He stopped the pair in front of the door and jumped to the ground. His hands trembled slightly when he reached out for her. If she were going to stop him, now was the time. All she had to do was stay in the carriage and refuse to go inside. Instead, she stepped into his arms and walked through Granny’s door with him.

The curtains were drawn together and the cottage was shrouded in shadows but he didn’t light a candle. He closed the door behind them and pulled her into his arms. A voice inside her head echoed that she still had time to run from him but the warnings were forgotten the second his mouth came down on hers.

Between kisses they undressed each other, then lay down on the bed. He kissed her cheeks and her neck, then moved lower to her breasts. His hands caressed her flesh with loving tenderness, burning her skin as he blazed a hundred paths across every inch of her. When he came over her she opened her arms and welcomed him into her body.

They both rode the wild waves of passion and desire and made unfathomable discoveries. With her arms clasped tight around him and her body arched, she shattered into a million pieces. She told herself the tears streaming down her cheeks weren’t tears of sorrow, but tears of joy. Except she knew she’d lost a piece of her heart and she would never be whole again.

“Josie,” he said, rolling off her and bracing himself on one elbow. He stared down at her and brushed one finger over her damp cheek where the tear had made a path.

She turned away from him but he brought her head back with a finger against her jaw.

“Look at me.”

Josie lifted her gaze.

“No regrets. Not ever. Not with what is happening between us.”

More tears swam in her eyes, his face a watery outline that had no form.

“You were right the first time you gave yourself to me. You can always trust me not to hurt you. Just as you can trust me to protect you.”

She wanted to look at him but couldn’t. She focused on a spot beyond his shoulder instead.

“Did Lindville strike you?”

She made a move to slide away from him but he wouldn’t let her.

“Look at me.”

She didn’t want to meet his gaze but the tone of his voice gave her little choice. Even through the softness there was a low rumble that resembled an angry growl.

“What possible reason could he have had to strike you?”

His eyes were intense as they looked at her, then blackened with fury as if a thought just occurred to him.

“Did it have something to do with the land? Did he threaten you to stop me from going forward with the plan to bring in cattle?”

She knew the moment he realized that’s what had happened. The shocked expression on his face was openly hostile. She wasn’t going to say anything but couldn’t keep from voicing her accusation. “Did you just realize that someone other than yourself could be affected by what you intended to do?”

His scowl darkened. “Stay away from him, Josie. He’s connected with the smuggling. I can’t prove it yet, but when I can, he’ll pay for his crime at the end of a rope. And so will everyone else who’s involved.”

She couldn’t breathe. She had to make sure the man lying next to her never found out she’d been one of the band of smugglers.

She took several slow breaths, having already decided what she had to do. She knew with unerring certainty that there would never be another shipment of smuggled goods. Just as she knew this would be the last time she gave herself to him.

She turned her head and met his gaze squarely. “What happened to me is not important. Even what we just shared is of little consequence in the grand scheme of things.”

“How can you say that?”

“Easily. You are still the Marquess of Rainforth and I am my mother’s daughter. Nothing will ever change that.”

“And if who you are doesn’t matter to me?”

“Then you are lying to yourself.”

Neither of them said anything for quite a while, she, because any other words would only prove how much she wanted such an admission to be wrong. He, because her answer had closed the door with such finality there was no room to maneuver closer.

He would always be the Marquess of Rainforth.

…

The bastard had hit her.

In all the scenarios Ross had let play out in his mind, not once had he thought anyone else might be in danger because of his plan to bring in cattle. The mark on Josephine Foley’s face told him how wrong he’d been.

Was this why she’d been so opposed to his plan from the start? Had she been threatened from the beginning, and if she had, what leverage had been used? Lady Clythebrook’s safety? The children’s?

The stark look on her face when he took her home flashed through his mind. The afternoon still had an hour or more before dusk came, but when he walked her to the door and watched her go inside, the darkness that consumed his soul made him feel as if the sun had already faded from the sky.

“Don’t expect me to say I love you… You are still the Marquess of Rainforth and I am my mother’s daughter.”

Her words pressed against him with the aching finality of a death knell.

Ross pushed the team toward home. What difference did it make if he were a marquess and she her mother’s daughter? He’d learned long ago that members of Society were the only ones to whom it mattered. He’d also found out how quickly and easily one could fall from their good graces and how difficult it was to make amends. If it were not for his son, he wouldn’t be making the effort now to redeem the Bennett name, and the Rainforth legacy. For himself he didn’t care. Whether or not Society approved of the woman he loved mattered even less.

Ross pulled the team to a halt in front of his home and jumped from the carriage more determined than ever of the need to convince Josie that her fears were unfounded. He handed the reins to a groomsman and covered the distance to the door in long anxious strides. The door opened before he reached for the knob and Benedict stood in the entryway, ready to take Ross’s hat and gloves.

“There’s a gentleman to see you, sir. He says it’s important. I showed him to the library.”

“Thank you, Benedict.”

Ross went down the hall to the library and opened the door. The man had been seated in a chair and stood when Ross entered.

“Lord Rainforth?”

Ross nodded.

“Lieutenant Joshua Honeywell, sir. Major Bennett sent me. I’m to give you this.”

The man held out an envelope and Ross took it. “Are you to wait for a reply?”

“No, sir. I’ll be returning to London right away.”

“You’ll eat something first,” Ross said, calling for Benedict to show the man to the kitchen.

When he was alone, Ross sat down at his desk and broke the seal. The letter was from Sam and identified by the crest he always used.

Ross tore open the envelope and scanned the writing. It was in the code Sam had created when they were young. The same code his father had used to sell military secrets to the Russians. Ross ignored the chill that shivered through him and took out a pen and paper to decipher the message. A few minutes later he put his pen down on the desk and read the message again. An unidentified source had informed them that a shipment of opium was due in London in three days’ time, which meant it would arrive here any day. Sam and McCormick would leave as soon as they could make the necessary arrangements and should be here sometime tomorrow, which was Wednesday. In the meantime, they wanted Ross to keep a close watch on the cove and report anything that seemed suspicious.

Ross locked the message away in a drawer in his desk and sat down before the blazing fire.

The time had finally come—his chance to make up for all his father had done. His chance to redeem his name so he and his son could walk amongst the nobility of London with their heads high.

And nothing would stop him.

Josie stared at the message in her hands. It arrived as they all did—by special messenger. It was written on the same paper as usual—rough, inexpensive parchment, and penned in Captain Levy’s familiar hand—bold and difficult to decipher. The arrival of the letter had always filled her with a new sense of anticipation. An excitement at knowing that for a while longer the children would not go without.

This time reading the instructions made her stomach turn. This time she knew there wouldn’t just be supplies for the people of Clytheborough, but a shipment of opium that would leave here and go to London where the deadly drug would destroy more innocent lives. Her blood ran cold.

She’d thought of little else since Rainforth had told her someone was smuggling opium. The decision of
what
to do had been easy.
How
to accomplish it was another matter. She finally had the answer.

She read the message again. She’d been expecting the shipment, so the instructions weren’t a surprise. Only this time there’d been a change of plans. The shipment wouldn’t be arriving on a Thursday night as it usually did, but tomorrow night—Wednesday. The change would actually work to her advantage.

She sat down behind the desk and pulled out a clean sheet of paper. She needed to put her plan in motion. There was a certain amount of risk involved, but if everything went the way it should, this would be the last shipment to come in and no one would be the wiser.

She’d only met Captain Levy once, but she’d gathered from that first meeting that he wasn’t the kind of person to take unnecessary chances. Nor would he willingly risk his ship and his crew if he thought there was the possibility they would all be arrested and hanged. She was counting on that. If she was wrong, she would fail and she’d have to face a short future at the end of a rope.

Josie read the message from Captain Levy once more to make certain of the Wednesday delivery, then dipped her pen into the ink well and wrote a note she would send to Lindville in the morning. The message contained only two words, but he would know what they meant.

THURSDAY – MIDNIGHT

She folded Lindville’s message and tucked it into her skirt pocket, then threw the original message in the grate and watched it burn. She didn’t want there to be any evidence left behind to prove what she’d done. She stopped short at the knock on the door and stepped away from the tell-tale ashes. The door opened and Jenny peeked her head around the corner.

“Lord Rainforth is here. He says he’d like to see you.”

A slight hitch caught in her chest and she looked out the window. It was nearly dark outside. “Send him in, Jenny.”

“Will you want anything else, Miss Josie?”

“No. I’m almost ready to leave. I doubt Lord Rainforth will be here long.”

“Very well, miss.”

Jenny left and Josie stared at the door unable to move. She hadn’t expected to see him any more today. Not after this afternoon.

The door opened and he stepped into the room. He seemed to take up all the air and dominate the space that suddenly seemed much smaller. This was the man to whom she’d given herself. The man whose kisses scattered her resolve to the four winds, whose touch made her flesh burn with desire. Whose lovemaking had caused her to cry out for release. Her cheeks turned hot remembering what had passed between them. He closed the door and looked at her.

“I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine.”

He walked across the room and stopped when he reached her desk.

“Would you mind if I sat down?”

“Of course not.”

He waited until she sat then lowered himself to one of the chairs in front of the desk.

He’d changed since she’d seen him earlier. His face was smooth as if he’d shaved before coming and she was caught again by how handsome he was.

“I went to Clythebrook Manor first but was told you’d left before dinner.”

“I ate here with the children.”

“Lady Clythebrook said she didn’t know when to expect you. When I hinted that I might go to the orphanage, she said I should tell you she was retiring for the night and wouldn’t be up when you came in. Do you do this often?”

“When there’s an emergency I need to handle. Sometimes late in the evening is the only time it’s quiet enough to get anything done.”

“Who makes sure you get home?”

She wanted to laugh. “No one, Lord Rainforth. I’m perfectly capable of—”

“My name is Ross. Don’t you think enough has passed between us for you to call me by my given name?”

She swallowed hard. “You know I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

When she didn’t answer, he leaned back in his chair. “You won’t let yourself forget who I am, will you?”

“You can never be anything but what you are, my lord. How can I forget it?”

Whatever strange emotion connected the two of them, it seemed stronger tonight than it ever had. Maybe because they’d spent more than an hour in each other’s arms earlier in the day. Maybe because willingly giving your body to someone forms a closeness that cannot be explained. Maybe because realizing you’ve fallen in love forces you to see everything so much differently.

Josie pushed back against her chair because it was suddenly important to keep as much distance from him as possible.

“You shouldn’t be here. Please, go home.”

He rested the ankle of one foot atop his other knee as if settling in for the duration. “Not until you’re ready. I have my carriage outside.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It isn’t? You may have forgotten the mark on your cheek from this afternoon but I haven’t.”

“I already explained—”

“No, you didn’t. And I’d wager you have no intention of explaining.”

He stood and the room shrank around her. Even though the desk separated them, she felt as though she needed a wall. A very high, thick wall.

“I’ve told you who I think was responsible, but you—”

Whatever else he was going to say went unfinished. There was a soft rapping sound and the door opened. Vicar Chadwick walked into the room.

“Miss Foley. They told me I’d still find you here. I was wondering if—” The vicar stopped. “Lord Rainforth. What a surprise.”

The marquess turned. “Vicar Chadwick. Good evening. I came to escort Miss Foley home.”

“How thoughtful. Yes, quite the thing.”

“Did you just return from London?” Josie asked, trying to focus the attention away from her.

“Only moments ago. I left some papers unfinished before I left last week and thought I’d pick them up on my way to the vicarage.”

“Would you like some tea? I’m sure Cook still has some of the tarts left from supper.”

“No. I’m fine. I would like a glass of sherry, though. Would you care to join me, Lord Rainforth?”

The marquess nodded. “Thank you.”

“Miss Foley?”

“Just a small glass.”

Vicar Chadwick went to a small cupboard against the wall and took a bottle out of a drawer, then filled three glasses. When he brought them back, he gave each one a glass and they sat before the fire that still glowed.

“You just returned from London?” Rainforth asked.

Josie watched for some hint of longing that he might be anxious for any news from the City but she didn’t see it in his expression. Neither did she hear it in his voice.

“Yes. What an exciting place. But I have to admit I long for the peacefulness of the country after a few days. Do you find that too, my lord?”

“I quite enjoy it here,” Rainforth said, taking a sip of his sherry. “London can be suffocating at times.”

“I know what you mean. There’s always something stirring. Right now it’s all the talk of the illegal drugs that are coming in.”

Josie felt a cold chill sweep over her.

“I even heard some news that will be of special interest to you, Rainforth. Quite exciting. The Queen has set up a new force to combat the rising drug problem and has appointed Major Samuel Bennett to head the program. He’s your cousin, isn’t he?”

“Yes. The major and I grew up together.”

“An impressive fellow. I was fortunate enough to hear him speak before an assembly. The populace is quite concerned over the illegal trafficking of opium and he assured everyone that the government is doing everything in its power to see that anyone involved is brought to justice. I walked away from the meeting feeling much safer knowing someone so capable is combating such a monumental problem. Has the major confided in you at all? Do they have any clues at all as to who is behind the smuggling?”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know. I’ve been away from London for months now.”

“Of course. Of course. At any rate, with Major Bennett in charge, I am confident the problem will cease shortly.”

Vicar Chadwick set his empty sherry glass down on the table and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a red gumdrop and popped it into his mouth. “Well, it’s been a long day and I’m more than ready to retire.”

Rainforth walked the vicar to the door, and Josie stared at the dying embers in the fireplace. Major Samuel Bennett wasn’t someone to be taken lightly. She’d forgotten he and Rainforth were cousins. If Rainforth was in the major’s confidence, perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence that he’d been watching the cove for anything suspicious.

Josie’s blood ran cold. Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough. She needed to stop the smuggling before opium took one more life. She needed to stop the shipments before the man with whom she’d fallen in love discovered that she was involved in the smuggling.

“Is something wrong?”

Josie snapped up her head to find him standing in front of the desk. She didn’t know how long he’d been watching her or how much he’d said that she hadn’t heard. “No, everything’s fine.” She fumbled to put the papers she’d been working on in a drawer then stood. “Are you ready to go?”

She grabbed her cloak from the hook against the wall and stepped toward him. He took it from her and placed it around her shoulders. His hands didn’t leave her.

“You’re shaking.”

“Just a shiver. I’m fine.”

“It’ll be over soon,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back against him. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Josie’s heart turned in her chest. What she wouldn’t give to stay in his arms like this forever. But she couldn’t. And letting herself think she could was only asking for trouble.

“It’s getting late. We should be going.”

He released her and banked the fire while she extinguished the lanterns and they left the room.

“Would you take me up to see him?”

She stopped and looked at him. “The children are in bed. He’s probably asleep.”

“I know. I’d just like to see him before we leave.”

Josie felt a knot press against her heart. She remembered the only time the man who’d fathered her had come. Her mother had dressed her in her finest dress, telling her as she curled her hair and put bright blue ribbons in it that when her papa saw how pretty she was, he’d come back to them. But when the man came, he refused to even look at her. He fired some harsh, angry words at her mother, then threw a thick envelope on the table and left. She’d always imagined Rainforth would be the same, but that was before she’d met him. Before she’d given herself to him. And her heart weighed heavier in her breast. The real Marquess of Rainforth wasn’t at all like she’d painted him.

Josie led the way up the stairs and stopped in front of the room where Charlie slept. There were three beds in the room and thankfully only two to a bed right now. When it was very crowded, the smaller children would sleep three and even more in a bed. She took one of the small lanterns from the hallway and stepped inside.

Charlie was in the bed nearest the window and Josie led the marquess over to where he slept. When she reached him she set down the lamp on the bedside table where it cast a soft glow on the sleeping child and stood beside the marquess.

“He looks so fragile.”

She smiled. “He isn’t. Believe me. He’s always in the thick of any sport the children play. Quite accomplished at catching the ball. He’s usually one of the first to be chosen when the children select teams.”

“I’ve missed so much,” he whispered and Josie heard the longing in his voice.

“His best friend is little Robbie,” she said, motioning toward the other little body sharing his bed. And he’s Glenda’s champion. Glenda’s small and walks with a limp from an accident when she was very tiny. He always makes sure she’s on his team and helps her run when she gets tired. He has a fondness for animals and his favorite dessert is peach cobbler,” she whispered.

“I will see to it that he has a puppy and that peach trees are abundant in the orchards at St. Stephen’s.”

Josie smiled then stood in silence while the marquess studied his son.

For a long time he didn’t move, then, he knelt down beside the sleeping child and, with a trembling hand, brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. He placed his fingers gently against Charlie’s cheek and stroked it as if his flesh were made of silk, then picked up Charlie’s small hand and placed it in his own. The contrast in size gave the perfect comparison of how much the young boy still needed his father’s strength and protection.