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Authors: Raven McAllan

BOOK: Lord Suitor
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"Remember
that until we meet again. Wear my mark with pride." He moved to her breast
and repeated the action before he took her hard nipple into his mouth and laved
it. "One day soon we'll make love with you wearing only pearls. Lots of
pearls to enhance your femininity."

She
sighed. His tone was so erotic, and so... "Oh yes."

"Later."
He pulled back from her, and all she could see once more were those dark eyes,
which held her spellbound. As he moved away, she slid toward him. Something
caught her and held her back.

"No,
please don't... Ow." The pain in her rear was sharp. Tessa opened her eyes
to find herself in a tangle of sheets and covers on the floor. The grandfather clock
in the hall struck three as she untangled herself, rubbed her bruised backside,
and looked at what had been a tidy bed. Not the best way to pass the night.
Even with her erotic dreams, she still ached and had a strange feeling she'd
just lost something precious. If only she knew what.

Resigned
to several hours of wakefulness, and not in the mood to help herself to be
sated once more, Tessa remade her bed and clambered back in. To lie awake and
wonder what life had in store for her.

It
was typical that she should fall into an uneasy sleep, not long before Doris
brought her morning chocolate and her water for bathing.

The
jangle of the curtain rings woke her, and she blinked as the shutters were
opened to let the early-morning sunlight in.

Doris
turned from the window and smiled. The smile became fixed as she stared at
Tessa and blinked several times.

"Er..."
Doris stammered and seemed to be unable to articulate.

Tessa
yawned and stretched before she realized her nightgown was inside out. And
slipping off her shoulder to reveal the top of one milky white breast. She
tugged at the material and froze. The smooth skin was blemished by a round red
mark.

Her
mouth went dry. How on earth had that happened? Tessa looked at Doris and hoped
her confusion wasn't obvious. With as much insouciance as she could manage,
Tessa tugged the material over her breasts and shoulders and shrugged.

"I
have no idea, so pray do not ask." She rolled her eyes. "Dreams into
reality perhaps?"

Doris
giggled. "I wish mine were like that."

Tessa
wasn't so sure. "As long as I can conceal my spot." She wasn't sure
what else to call it. She sighed and then laughed. Even though Doris hadn't
been with her as a personal maid for that long, their relationship was one of
friends. "Doris, where is your beau at the moment?"

Doris's
eyes widened. Then she nodded, as if she were now reassured of something.
"Stanley is in Devon, m'lady. He followed the earl down and will be away until
his lordship returns."

"So
you didn't see him last night?" Tessa had no idea why she was pressing the
point. Why should Doris have had an assignation?

But
if she hadn't, why then wouldn't she meet Tessa's gaze? Of course it should
have been logical, that as Stanley was Nat's tiger, Doris's beau was with Nat.

However
Tessa still couldn't get the niggling feeling that her dreams were not dreams
but reality.

"M’lady,
there is a parcel for you." Doris put a square box down on the bed,
curtseyed, and left the room.

Tessa
untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. A long skein of perfectly matched pearls
sat on a bed of black velvet.

There
was no note.

 

Chapter Nine

 

"Yer
what? Yer kidding me, gu...er, m'lord. School? I's too old for that
caper."

Nat
ran his hands over his tired eyes. All this rushing around was too much. Life
was busy and complicated, and he needed no more disruptions.

He
glared at Cubby, who had a mulish look on his face once more. Nat was well used
to that expression. Cubby seemed to have need of it several times a day. The
lad was able—and willing—if the subject under discussion appealed to him. Schooling
evidently did not.

"Did
I say school?" Nat asked mildly. Too mildly it seemed for those who knew
him, for both Stanley's and Frost's faces took on a wooden look.

"Nah,
but..."

"Exactly.
No, I did not. You said you want to take over from Frost when the time comes?"

"Well,
course I does but..."

And,"
Nat went on in an exorable manner, "to do more than just look after my
horses, magnificent as they are?"

Cubby
scuffed the toe of his boots on the dirt path surrounding the stable yard. "Yessir."

"Then
in order to do so, you need schooling. How will you know if someone is trying
to fleece you?" He held his hand up to stop Cubby's retort. "I know
you'll know a captain sharp, but money wise? If the price of goods is
mistotaled perhaps? Or a bag of wheat goes missing at the mill? Now we know
Baltherstone is as honest as the day is long, but what if for some reason, we
have to source somewhere else? How would you know?" He ruffled Cubby's
hair. "You can do it, I have faith in you. So does Frost. Frost's nephew
is a tutor who will give you the help you need. No more, no less, I promise. Is
it a deal?"

Cubby
fidgeted, bit his lip, and eventually sighed. "Yessir." He held his
hand out, and Nat took it. "But I still can help in the stables?"

Nat
nodded. "Of course, Orsman needs you and will need your advice when he
needs a replacement. Now it isn't going to be you."

"Not...blimey
I'll be the factor, so gets to help choose?"

Nat
grinned as Cubby did some complicated shuffle. "If you listen to your
tutor, yes, you will."

"Good,
cos you got to tell Pikey Mimmer that that nag of his needs to learn not to
whinny like she does. It's not good. And he doesn't seem to care, not one bit.
If he wants to go to the devil, why not, but not taking others, guv," Cubby
said earnestly. "He's a pikey."

Nat
looked at Frost, who nodded. "I'll see to it."

"Good
and set up another meeting as soon as possible. Oh, and Cubby, Mimmer is no
gypsy. He's just not had the opportunities to learn how to act in certain
circumstances." He winked, and Frost and Stanley both chuckled.

Cubby
glared, and then his face softened. "Orl right, I knows when I's
beat." Cubby's glare changed to a grin, now not one whit annoyed by the
cheerful teasing the men were offering to him. "So, when does I
start?"

"As
soon as Jeffrey, that's Frost's nephew, arrives. In a week maybe."

Cubby
nodded. "So I best go and check on the horses then." He gave Nat a
sketchy bow and scampered away.

"I
pity Jeffrey," Stanley said. "And
I
best follow Cubby before he talks Orsman to death. He's got more questions than
parliament that one." He doffed his cap and left in the direction Cubby
had taken.

Nat
looked after him and rolled his shoulders to take out some of the aches and
pains that seemed to have taken up residence there. "Riding through the
night holds no excitement anymore, Frost, even if the end results are all I
could wish for. I'm thankful we have a break before I have to do it again. Let
me know when the men can meet up. Their worries worry me. Combe is not one to
be concerned over nothing."

"It
seems not."

****

Several
hours later Nat stretched in his chair and set his seal to the last letter he
needed to send and rang for a footman. The missives would go to Exeter and
thence to the capital. One packet he hoped would cause consternation, and
perhaps a little excitement? The little tin box with its pearl earrings was the
perfect size to hold a necklace as well. He'd seen it and thought how the
earrings would suit Tessa. It was a pity he didn't have the necklace to include
in the box.

He
handed the pile to the footman, who answered the bell, and was reassured they
would go to the sorting office in time to catch the following morning's post.

Frost
entered as the footman left.

"Any
news?" Nat asked as he stood up and poured out two glasses of brandy and
handed one to Frost.

"Thank
you." Frost took it, and they touched glasses in a toast. "Your
health, my lord." He swallowed deeply. "I needed that. Combe says at the
Green Man at ten tonight? They will all be there. There is a lot of unease, and
I truly believe it is well founded. I promised to look in at the cove before I
meet you all there. Ferrers has a worry about the landing spot. We may need to
move along the cost. Lord Birch says Hallet Cove might do the trick."

Nat
nodded. He agreed on all counts. The meeting the previous week with the men who
worked on his estate, and who were also known as Gentlemen—more for self-preservation
than anything else—had disturbed him greatly. Someone was intent on wreaking
havoc along the coast and upsetting all the work the local Gentlemen did. Petty
pilfering and removal of the odd barrel had always been part and parcel of smuggling
in the area, and it was very much tit for tat. But this was worse. Malicious
even, it had caused more than one visit from the local excise men, and no one
was very pleased. Up until then, there had been a grudging—albeit illegal—respect
between both sides. It helped that Kerswell, the local excise man, was a
distant cousin of Combe, and knew why smuggling was needed to keep heads
afloat, even now. It irked Nat, he couldn't deny it, because the men who worked
for him were well paid, and didn't need the extras. But others weren't so lucky,
and it behooved him to get his workers to watch the wall and turn a blind eye.

He
didn't comment on how many times the local smugglers came ashore in one place, when
the Excise had been sent, on a tip off many miles away. As the landed gentry he
knew when to put up and shut up, and when to leave barns unlocked and gates
open. However, lately someone was out to cause trouble, and he didn't like it
one bit. A conversation with Theo Birch had shown Theo was also having
problems. Ricks set on fire, horses let loose, and crops trampled. There seemed
to be no reason for it, and Theo and Nat were at a loss to discover who was at
the back of it all and why they behaved as they did.

Nat
was in a pensive mood as he saddled his horse and rode down along the riverbank
toward the old inn. Cubby had been threatened with no horses for a week if he
followed Nat. The youngster seemed to have taken it on himself to dog Nat's
shadow and become his master's protector. It didn't matter how often Nat told Cubby
he could look after himself, he would turn around and see Cubby darting behind
a door or innocently rubbing a horse down conveniently near wherever Nat
happened to be.

Frost
and Orsman laughed, but both had told him in confidence that Cubby was sure
someone was watching Nat. No one else seemed to be aware of such a person.

Nat
accepted he had a shadow and ignored it for the most. Nevertheless on some
occasions such as then, he put his foot down. Cubby had pouted, but Nat had
been adamant. "It would not be sensible. They do not know or trust you. They
do
me."

"You
could
say I was learning the
ropes," Cubby said in a begging voice.

"And
I also could not. Enough."

Cubby
must have recognized the tone of voice for he sighed and hunched his back.
"If anything happens," he began.

"I
promise not to haunt you," Nat said.

He
remembered the exchange, somewhat touched as he thought over Cubby's dedication
to the "preserve Nat's life" cause. Of course Nat thought there was
no need whatsoever, and he'd seen no trace of any watcher, but if it satisfied Cubby
who was he to argue?

The
sound of a bullet was harsh to his ears, and Satan, his riding horse, reared up,
snorted, and whinnied loudly in protest before he began to gallop down the
ride.

Nat
fought with the reins as the horse bolted and careered under branches and
swerved around bushes. They jumped several logs and once pecked at a
particularly high tree trunk, which had fallen over the track, before clearing
it. Nat didn't remember seeing it before, but then he didn't use this track
often.

They
galloped out of the ride and across a field of young corn before Nat was able
to bring Satan under control and reduce the wild gallop to a canter and then a
trot. Eventually, as they reached the village, Satan slowed to a trot and
finally a walk.

His
breath came in uneven spurts, and Nat knew his own wasn't much better. A shout
from behind him made him spin the tired horse around. Cubby came toward him on
a sturdy Dartmoor pony and drew up alongside him. The pony frothed at the
mouth, and to Nat's astonishment Cubby was riding bareback and with no bridle.

"How
on earth did you mange that feat?" he asked as Cubby slid to the ground
and patted the pony.

"'S'easy,
me and Whisper are friends." He nuzzled the pony's neck and then turned to
Nat. "See I told you I was needed. It were some blokes in black at the
edge of your land, guv. They ran off toward Stallinton."

"Where
exactly did you see them?" It was pointless following. Stallinton was a
village on the edge of the moors, and the track toward it was perfect for an
ambush.

"By
that barn. The one you told me not to go near, and I didn't." Cubby's voice
was so innocent Nat stared at him with suspicion.

The
butter-would-not-melt-in-my-mouth expression was clearly visible in the pale
moonlight, and Nat stifled a grin. He rather thought it would depend on how he
defined "near." Nevertheless, Nat nodded. The Gentlemen's barn. It
figured that whoever it was would sniff around there. "I suppose you'd
better come with me now. Keep your mouth shut, mind, and only speak if you're
spoken to."

Cobby
whistled between his teeth. "Course, I won't let you down."

Nat
knew he wouldn't. He waited while Cubby swung up onto Whisper's back and then led
him through the quiet village to the Green Man.

The
inn sign swung and creaked in the breeze. As they drew up, a man materialized
from the shadows. He started when he saw Cubby with Nat. Nat nodded to him.

"My
ward, who will one day take over from Frost. He saw something this evening that
Combe needs to know."

"He's
in't back room, m'lord." The man took Nat's horse and Cubby's pony and led
them away.

"Remember,"
Nat said as he pushed open the inn's door.

"Keep
me mummer shut."

“Exactly,
don't speak unless you're asked for an answer."

The
sigh made Nat bite back a chuckle as he took hold of Cubby's shoulder and
entered the building.

The
taproom was empty except for a couple of aged fishermen sitting in high-backed
chairs next to the fire. Nat nodded to them and took the tankards the landlord
passed to him. He handed one to Cubby.

"If
you get bosky and can't ride, I'll leave you here."

"I's
can probly hold me ale as good as anyone," Cubby assured him. "But I won't
drink more'un a mouth full. I'm on guard duty... Oh, scuppered."

"Indeed,
and who voted you into that position? Orsman and Frost?"

Cubby
nodded. To all intents and purposes, he was a picture of abject apology. Except
for the militant light in his eyes. It seemed, Nat decided, and with good reason,
his staff wanted to keep an eye on him. He made a note to thank them the
following day.

Nat
gestured toward the door to the snug. "We go in there." He knocked on
it in a certain way and was amused to see Cubby studying the sequence intently.
It seemed the lad was determined to know all he could as soon as he was able.

"Remember."

"Mum's
the word. Honest, I'll keep me gob shut." Cubby mimed holding his lips
together.

Nat
shook his head in amusement as he preceded Cubby into the tiny room.

It
was stuffy and had a distinct smell of overheated bodies. Even on such a mild
night, the fire was roaring in the grate, and the shutters were closed.

He
nodded to the dozen or so men seated there.

"Evening,
gentlemen. This is Cubby, my ward and eventually Frost's successor. He probably
saved my life tonight. Someone decided the long rise was a good place to finish
me off with a bullet. They missed, and Cubby was close enough to scare them off."

"Blister."
Combe used the colloquialism for a person of no morals. "Tarnation, m'lord,
why? Why after all these years of peacefulness does this happen now?"

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