Authors: Rebecca King
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #suspense, #historical fiction, #thrillers, #historical romance, #mysteries, #romantic mysteries, #historical mysteries
“I won’t let
them hurt you, you know,” Jonathan growled and cast a dark glance
at the alleyway as he passed. He almost wished the boy would make
an appearance but then immediately dismissed the idea. One thing he
had learned from his work with the Star Elite was that it was
sometimes better to bide your time and strike an opponent when they
least expected it.
“I don’t know
why they have suddenly decided to target me,” Kat whispered. She
hated the feelings that coursed through her. Wild hope surged with
crushing disappointment as her emotions battled with logic. She
knew that Jonathan was not likely to stay in the area, but couldn’t
understand why he had decided to pay her so much attention. It was
as disconcerting as it was trilling. What did he want? Was he
expecting her to be his local dalliance? Did he want someone to
warm his bed when he happened to drop by Bentney on Sea in the
future?
Her thoughts
turned toward the smuggling and his questions. Did he expect to
befriend her in the hope that she would tell him what he wanted to
know? That prospect seemed considerably more likely, and she
struggled to control the bitter disappointment that began to well
at the thought that he could be so coldly calculating. Still, she
owed it to herself to not allow him to kiss her again. If only his
kiss hadn’t stirred the strange warmth deep inside her, she would
have had a better chance at keeping him at arm’s length. Right now,
if she didn’t get him out of her front room and on his way home,
she would most probably allow him to kiss her again.
“I wouldn’t
worry about it Kat. They are not going to cause you any trouble. I
have alerted my friend, Harper, as to their behaviour and he has
men at the ready in case they approach you again. I intend to have
a word with them first thing in the morning.”
He had followed
her into the front room and now stood, seemingly oblivious to the
rain that dripped steadily off him onto the wooden floor.
“Would you like
a drink or something?”
She found
herself hoping that he was going to kiss her again, yet wasn’t sure
whether to be relieved or disappointed when he remained by the door
instead.
“No, I had
better go before I catch influenza,” he replied wryly, and glanced
down at his sodden clothing with wry amusement.
“Thank you,”
she offered when he had stepped outside the door and turned to
glance back at her.
“Will you be
coming to read to uncle tomorrow?”
“If he is
feeling up to it,” Kat offered. “I enjoy it.”
“So does he.”
Jonathan smiled. He placed a hand on the door and stepped forward
to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Lock the door behind me,
Kat.” He stroked one blunt finger down her smooth cheek and smiled
gently. “Goodnight.”
Kat stared at
the empty space he left for a moment only to jump when he
reappeared suddenly and smiled at her almost chidingly. She looked
nonplussed at him, as though she couldn’t figure out why he was
there at all.
“Lock the
door,” he growled, fully aware as to the reason why she was so
shaken. It soothed his ego considerably to know that she wasn’t as
unaffected as he had first thought.
Kat seemed to
snap out of her trance and nodded jerkily. He stepped away but
turned back to look at her. She had moved closer and stood with one
hand on the latch. She glanced at him and was close enough for him
to drop another quick kiss on her other cheek.
“Go,” she
ordered and tried valiantly to ignore the flush of pleasure that
swept over her cheeks.
“Goodnight,
Kat,” Jonathan chirruped, and strode down the street with ground
eating strides. He paused after several feet and glanced back,
pleased that she had done as he had told her and closed the
door.
He studied the
road before him for a moment. He could turn left, go down back
toward the harbour and speak to Brian, or he could go right and
head home. With a sigh, he glanced up at the night sky and closed
his eyes against the raindrops that tickled his lashes.
“Right it is,”
he growled. He tugged the collar of his jacket up to his ears and
set off home. Brian could wait until tomorrow. For tonight, Kat was
safely tucked away at home and, if he had his way, that home would
soon be Dentham Hall.
Kat quietly
closed the door and turned to face the room. Her mother had left a
candle burning on the hearth. Kat paused long enough to check the
locks on the doors and secure the shutters before she took the
candle upstairs to bed. Once there, she snuggled beneath the covers
and listened to the winds rattling the window panes. A part of her
felt slightly sorry for Jonathan still outside undoubtedly getting
drenched.
She rolled onto
her back and stared up at the ceiling. Sleep was eluding her
tonight. If only she could close out the handsome visage of a
certain gentleman who didn’t seem willing to leave her mind, then
she may be able to catch a few winks before sunrise.
He really was
extraordinarily gorgeous. If only he was a bit more stable and
lower class, then she could quite easily consider a future with
him. Unfortunately, he was gentry, and upper gentry at that. They
were worlds apart. She knew it was folly to allow him to even kiss
her, but there was nothing wrong with the peck on the cheek he had
given her – well, twice. He hadn’t pressed for more, and she hadn’t
stopped him. That didn’t mean that it had to go any further that
the brief, yet heated kiss he had bestowed upon her out on the
street.
Still, she
couldn’t help but go back to the fact that he had only recently
returned from an extended stay in London. Given his past record, it
was inevitable that he would head back there any day now, and she
wasn’t sure whether she was going to be sorry or not.
Of course
you are going to be sorry,
she sighed to herself. She hated to
admit it, but Jonathan Arbinger had more of a command on her heart
than she cared to acknowledge.
Her thoughts
turned to marriage. Was she going to consider getting married one
day? She wasn’t sure. There were certainly not many suitable
candidates in the village, if any, really. Most of the men around
her age were either off fighting for king and country, or were down
and out wastrels like Brian Meldrew and his cohorts. She would
rather end up a miserly old spinster than marry any of that
lot.
Jonathan was
the only man within miles who had ever brought forth feelings in
her like the ones she had experienced tonight, and she wasn’t sure
what to make of it. They were as intriguing as they were
frightening. A large part of her didn’t want anyone to have this
affect on her. Nobody ever had before so, given what she knew about
Jonathan, why was she even thinking about him now? Was it because
he had been the only man ever to kiss her? Or was it because he was
tall, roguishly handsome, intriguing, dangerous, and more than a
little bit charming?
She hugged her
pillow tightly as she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.
Whatever the future held, she knew that it was going to be best for
everyone if she didn’t allow him close enough to kiss her
again.
If only she
would remember that in the morning.
The following
day was as hectic as yesterday. It was mid-afternoon by the time
Kat walked through the kitchen door at Dentham Hall.
“Kat, dear,
there you are,” Mabel Smithers, the cook, called. “I wondered if
you would come today. The master has asked about you, hasn’t he,
Vera?”
“Sorry.” Kat
closed the door behind her and turned to the buxom woman who stood
beside the table. “I had heard that he wasn’t very well
yesterday.”
“Oh, he is well
enough now. Back on the road to recovery, I am sure. Do you want to
go up now, or do you want to savour some of this lovely apple pie
first?”
Kat considered
the door that led through to the main body of the house for a
moment and nodded. “I think I will just go straight up, if I may? I
will pop back in here I am done.”
Kat almost
groaned when her stomach rumbled at the delicious scent of the pie
that teased her nostrils. “I will be back,” she promised
fervently.
Nobody baked
apple pies like Mabel. Her skills in the kitchen were legendary.
She made a mental note to ask Mabel to give her some cooking
lessons as some point, if the woman ever had the time and made her
way across the kitchen.
She knocked
gently on the door to the upper sitting room and stood back to
wait.
“Come in.”
She stared in
horror at the door. The voice sounded startlingly familiar. Her
stomach dipped to her toes and she glanced around her in
desperation. She contemplated whether she should just head back
downstairs to wait until he had left the house, but the decision
was taken out of her hands when, moments later, Jonathan opened the
door.
“I thought I
heard your voice downstairs,” he drawled and stood back to allow
her into the luxurious sitting room. “I told Bruce that you were
coming today. He is so pleased.”
Kat smiled
awkwardly at him as she entered. Strangely, she had never felt
uncomfortable at Dentham Hall before. Even though the house was
rather grand, she had never felt in awe, or out of place. She
didn’t know whether that was because she knew nearly all of the
staff who worked there, or whether Jonathan’s uncle, Bruce, was
such a nice, down to earth man. Right now though, she felt rather
gauche and ill at ease.
“Good
afternoon, Bruce,” Kat murmured gently. She smiled fondly at the
old man as he captured her hand in his gnarled grip.
“Good to see
you, my girl. I have been waiting for you,” he waved toward a
chair. “Now, come and sit. Sit, both of you. I have already called
for the tea things. Jonathan saw you walking down the drive. I
expected you to call by yesterday.” His tone was just a little bit
chiding but there was no anger in the rather rheumy eyes that met
hers. “But never mind. You are here now. I have so looked forward
to today. Maybe we can get two chapters out of you while you are
here?”
Kat smiled at
the familiar humorous twinkle in the old man’s gaze and studied the
face so familiar to Jonathan’s. She secretly wondered if this was
what Jonathan would look like when he was old and grey, and
couldn’t put her mind to it. Someone like Jonathan would never sit
gnarled and aged like this. The man seemed immutable.
Jonathan handed
her the book she had been reading, its pages neatly separated by a
rather ornate book mark. She was about to start when there was a
knock on the door and one of the maids, Doreen, appeared with a
tray of tea things. It was difficult to keep the surprise off her
face as she watched Jonathan practically dote on his uncle. A
blanket was placed across the old man’s knees, and a plate of cake
was deposited at his elbow before a rather tepid cup of tea was
placed, only half full, in the gnarled old hands. Rather than take
a seat and listen, Jonathan hovered a few feet away until his uncle
was finished with his drink. He then carefully took the cup off
Bruce, and placed it on the table. Only then did he sit down.
Deeply touched
by what she had just witnessed, Kat slowly began to read.
Jonathan
listened with only half an ear. He kept a careful watch on his
uncle’s face. The attentiveness was clear to see, and it was
evident that the old man loved every minute of the story. Copying
Bruce, he settled back in his chair, took a deep breath and allowed
her soothingly melodic voice to simply wash over him. She really
had the most hypnotic voice. Softly gentle, it held faintly husky
tones, and held a hint of Cornish twang, that was habitual for the
area. She stopped only twice to take a sip of her own tea but was
clearly as engrossed in the story as he and his uncle were. He
couldn’t help but wonder if this was what married life would be
like with her, and wished that he could spend more of his
afternoons seated beside the fire while she read.
Darkness had
fallen, along with his Bruce’s eyelids, when she finally closed the
book. She smiled gently at the old man as his head began to tip to
one side.
“I will bid you
good evening,” she whispered softly as she placed the book on the
table.
“Don’t you have
work to do tonight?” Jonathan whispered back. He glanced down at
his uncle and tugged on the bell pull. Edwards, his butler would
put Bruce to bed while Jonathan escorted Kat home.
“I am going in
a bit later today. I have to go and have something to eat first.”
She winced at the loud rumble of her stomach and tried to ignore
his wry smile.
“Look, I have
to get something to eat too. I skipped lunch and am starving. Why
don’t we eat and then I can escort you straight to work?”
“That’s not
really necessary. Thank you anyway. Mother will already have my tea
ready, so I had best be off.” She felt awful for having to lie to
the man, especially now she had seen his kindness toward his uncle
first-hand, but she daren’t allow him to get too close to her
again. She couldn’t ignore the warmth that had settled deep within
following his kisses last night, and wondered just how long it
would last. A part of her recognised, and understood, that she had
to keep one foot in reality, or else she would almost certainly get
her heart broken by the man before her, especially if she
encouraged his advances.
Jonathan felt
faintly thwarted and frowned. Dinner was already underway in the
kitchen and he sniffed the air appreciatively. He cast a quick
glance at Kat, wondering if the smells were going to tempt her in
any way but instead, she merely hurried out of the sitting room and
made her way downstairs. He was close on her heels and watched her
as she said goodbye to Mable and the other kitchen staff before she
quietly let herself out of the back door.