Lord Suitor (10 page)

"It
seems somehow we've rattled someone's cage. What do the other gangs say?"

Combe
took a deep draught of his ale. "Seems 'tis only us and along the coast
around here. Mind, even when the Hawkermouth Gang was helping us, we were
bamboozled into a wild goose chase to escape the excise men. That Jas Hawker
wasn't best pleased. Said he'd have whoever was responsible's guts for garters.
There's talk of some Frenchie around and about and not making any effort to be
friends or abide by the laws."

"Can
you put it about that anyone who has information—positive information—will be
recompensed? And that if these incidents continue and I find out the perpetrator,
there
will
be hell to pay."

Combe
grinned. "'Twill be my pleasure. My Lizzie is fair raging about the bed
allus being cold with me not around to be in it." He wiped his mouth on
the back of his hand and turned to Cubby who, Nat noticed, moved closer to his
protector. "What did you see?"

Cubby
looked up at Nat, who nodded. "Tell Combe. Slowly and clearly."

The
youth swallowed heavily, handed his tankard to Nat, and wrung his hands for a
second. Then he straightened his shoulders. "Mr. Frost and Mr. Stanley and
I were worried." His voice had lost of lot of its cockney origins and
become more assured. "I'd seen some bugger skulking around the big
barn."

Combe
shot an anxious glance at Nat, who shook his head slightly.

Cubby
of course saw it and interpreted it correctly. "There's not been a
Smugglers moon since. Any road, it was my turn, and cos we knew where m'lord was
coming, I was waiting near the barn with my pony hidden. It was three men, dark
coats, and they said sommat about service to their master and just rewards. I
think"—he hesitated and then cleared his throat—"I reckons they
weren't supposed to hit m'lord, cos I heard one swear and say they'd be for the
high jump if it'd hit.

Then
one of them snorted and said... Look, guv, I'm only saying what they said, orl
right? It's not me what's saying it."

"All
right," Nat agreed, amused by the passion and imploring from Cubby. What
on earth had he heard? "Spit it out."

"He
said if it spilt your cock and balls it'd stop you cruising."

Chapter Ten

"What's
today's offering?" Sybille asked Tessa as they sat in Tessa's snug little
sitting room. Tessa was so very thankful that Mijo had decreed that as the
eldest, the tiny room, little bigger than the boot room, was to be her own private
bolt hole. Although as the rest of her siblings seemed to be off doing
whatever, wherever, Sybille gravitated to Tessa. Tessa didn't mind.

Sybille
looked, Tessa thought, somewhat down, but whenever Tessa asked what was wrong, her
sister reiterated she was fine and changed the subject.

"Oh,
nothing much." Tessa downplayed the hothouse peaches that had been
delivered an hour or so earlier, with the cryptic note,
They remind me of...?
"Sybille, what's wrong?"

Sybille
sighed and plucked the velvet-covered chair arm. "Blue-devilled, that's
all. I seem to have taken a leaf from your book. And the rain isn't helping. I
could do with a walk, and it's pouring."

Tessa
stood up and walked to peer out of the window. The view was blurry as raindrops
chased each other down the pane. That part of Sybille's statement was correct, but
she believed not a word of the rest, except for the blue-devilled bit. It was
why her sister felt like that she wondered about. "True, but I'm game if
you are." Tessa rubbed a circle on the glass. "Water won't kill us,
as long as we don't try to walk the Thames, and it isn't cold. Best of all, we
can sneak out before Maman comes and inveigles us to someone's afternoon poetry
reading or musicale."

Sybille
stood up so fast her chair rocked on its spindly legs. "Oh yes, good
point. I will be three minutes." She almost ran to the door. "Where
shall we go?"

"Meet
me by the garden door, and we'll go to the park, " Tessa said. "Use
the back stairs."

Tessa
rummaged in the elbow cabinet. The tall chest-high cupboard was so named because
it was said to be perfect for gentlemen to lean on. Resting on a piece of black
velvet, the tiny box caught her eye, and she giggled. Hidden inside it was a
beautiful book. Trust Nat to think a tome of erotic etchings would be the
perfect gift for insomnia. More likely exactly the opposite. However, it wasn't
that she was looking for but an unusual pair of gloves. Soft and fine, they
would keep her hands dry but not over warm. Another of Nat's ingenious treats.
Tessa wondered where he got all his ideas. So far she'd had seasonal flowers in
a tiny vase, the gloves and the book, pearls for her neck, ears, and wrist, and
that day, peaches. The gifts didn't come every day, and there was no rhythm to
their appearance. If he intended to keep her off kilter and missing him, he'd
achieved his goal.

The
gloves were at the bottom of the drawer and rolled up in a way she was sure she
wouldn't have left then. They were too precious to mistreat. For whatever
happened between her and Nat, he enlivened her life.

Tessa
pulled the two gloves apart and stared. In the middle was a screw of paper,
which obviously contained something hard and knobbly. She looked at it warily.
As far as she knew, no one else should go into the drawer, unless one of her
siblings was playing a joke on her. In the past, Dare had been known to put
spiders and such wherever one of his sisters would be sure to find them and
shriek. Surely he'd grown up now?

Very
carefully, Tessa unwrapped the paper and disclosed its contents.

It
was a stone, in the shape of a heart. Written on it in tiny script were eight
words.

Here is my heart. Do you want it?

She
turned it over in her hands thoughtfully and blinked several times to dispel
the moisture that had gathered. Then she sniffed and wiped her eyes. Nat? But
if so how did he get it there? Who was his conspirator? It seemed unlikely
Sybille would do something so intimate and not tell her. Maman? Possibly,
because she made no bones about the fact that she championed Nat. However,
Tessa was determined she wasn't going to ask either of them. Let them puzzle
and wonder if she'd found it or not. With a decisive nod, Tessa returned the
gloves to the drawer and took a different pair from her wardrobe, and then went
to meet Sybille by the garden door.

The
back stairs were steep, and her legs ached as she descended them. The tenseness
of her muscles reminded her of her arousing dreams. Was it possible to get
aches and pains solely from a dream? It niggled her. Could dreams be so vivid
and real?

Sybille
followed her down the stairs, and within minutes they'd crept out of the house
and walked across the garden to the mews. The heavy rain had become a fine
drizzle, and the cobbles were slick and slippery.

"Take
care," Tessa warned. "The last thing we need is to explain to Maman that
our gowns are muddy because we slipped on the cobbles as we escaped her alleged
treat for the afternoon. Oh, and I left a note saying we'd gone for a walk in
the park, to revive ourselves for tonight's visit to Vauxhall. I'll accept her
remonstrations later."

"She
will look at you in that way she has, and you'll want to apologize for
everything you may or may not have done," Sybille said as they walked arm
in arm into the park.

"Oh,
don't I know it," Tessa replied gloomily. "However, this time, my
conscience is almost clear."

"Only
almost?" The voice was deep, masculine, and she hadn't heard it for
several weeks. Tessa twisted round, and her parasol swung out in an arc as, in
her surprise, she lost her grip on it.

Nat
fielded it expertly as it missed his ear by inches and handed it back to Tessa
with a bow and a grin.

"I
wonder though if it is safe to return such a deadly weapon to you?" he
asked. "I shudder to think where next it may hit."

Tessa
snorted. "If you asked Dare, he'd say I couldn't hit a barn door at three
paces with anything other than a pistol. I'll admit this was a lucky fluke. You
startled me."

She
drank in the sight of him.
For someone
who insists she's not interested, I'm a mite too pleased to see him.
His gray
coat fitted like a second skin, his
cravat intricately tied to perfection, and Tessa was in no doubt if she looked
at his hessians, she'd be able to see her reflection in them. Although at the
knowing look on his face, she'd like to put her muddy foot down hard on his
instep and mar their pristine surface.

"Remind
me to whistle loudly from now on when I'm within three paces of you."

Tessa
bit back the ready retort, which would have sealed her reputation as a hoyden
if any of the tabbies overheard, and satisfied herself with a grim smile.
"No need. I fail to see why I should waste my energy on something so
stupid." She hoped her tone also implied
and
someone
ditto.
"Just keep your distance."

Sybille
giggled. "Tessa."

They
both ignored her. "Ah, er, I see Arthur," Sybille said. "I, er,
well..."

"Oh..."
Tessa stared at her sister as she walked toward Arthur Mitcham, who stood
several yards away. "She's gone."

"Your
powers of observation are... Ouch. So is the power of your elbow." Nat
rubbed his arm and smiled. "I must show you how to make a fist. Not to be
used on me, of course. Shall we follow your sister and Arthur? For
decorum."

Tessa
took his arm and tamped down the flare of pleasure that ran through her like a
flame over dry tinder.

"When
did you return, my lord?" She had to know.

"Not
long ago," Nat said as they strolled after Arthur and Sybille. "How
are you? Ready for the onslaught?"

"Onslaught?"
Tessa was puzzled. Really the man was impossible. Why did he have to talk in
riddles? To say nothing of ignoring her question. Well, two could play at that
game. "When did you say you returned?"

"Recently,
and my first act after bathing was to visit you. I had to wash the dust off my travel-weary
body. As for onslaught, well, surely you haven't forgotten what I said to you
just before my departure?" He used his thumb to trace circles over her
gloved palm.

"You
said many things, my lord," Tessa said, holding on to her composure by a
thread. Did he know what that touch did to her? She glanced at his face and saw
a smile on his lips. Of course he did. "To which one do you allude?"

Nat
laughed. "Well parried, my dear. You know fine well to what I refer."

She
did, but Tessa was stubborn; there was no way she was going to admit it.

"The
park is looking good for the watering it's just received. It was somewhat parched
before."

Nat
laughed. "As you say. How lucky the rain has now ceased that we can admire
it. Tell me, does Mijo know you've escaped?"

"You
make us sound like the wild animals in the cages at the Royal Exchange. We
didn't escape. We ah, slipped out, whilst Maman was otherwise occupied."

"An
escape by any other name," Nat said. "I like your ingenuity, but be
warned I won't fall for such tricks."

"Well,
why would you need to?" Tessa said equably. "Ah, do you think we
should walk faster and catch Sybille and Arthur up?" The couple were a
good three dozen yards ahead. "It wouldn't be right to be seen as fast.
Maman would never forgive me."

"Arthur
knows to wait at the corner." Nat stopped his sensuous rub across her
palm. Tessa wondered if it would be fast to put his hand back? The brief tap on
her rear surprised her. She looked up at Nat, who inclined his head toward the
corner. “See? And Sally Jersey is now with them. We stopped as you had a stone
caught in the sole of your boot."

"I
did?"

"Oh
yes, you did. It made you hobble, hence our delay."

Tessa
bit her lip. "You have an answer for everything."

"At
last you realize that, even though on occasions I choose not to share it."
Nat was silent for a moment. "Tessa, I have to ask something."

Her
heart thudded. Was this to be a proposal to her this time? If it was, how on
earth was she going to answer? He'd promised a wooing, and one walk in the park
was no such thing. Tessa was not materialistic by any means and would happily
forgo any gifts as long as the man should show some indication of how he felt.
Vocally, not present-wise.

"Yes,
my lord?" Her pulse jumped as he once more held onto her hand. He sounded
very serious. Well, marriage was a serious undertaking. If she
was
to pledge herself to someone for the
rest of her life, it wasn't something she could, or would agree to lightly. After
all, Tessa reasoned, even if you might not share a bed, his or her face would
stare from opposite you at many a meal table.

"I
wonder. This is somewhat delicate. I know I'm not known for that attribute, but
I can be so when it is warranted."

Get on with it, for goodness’
sake.
Not that
she could say that. Tessa kept her mouth shut and hoped she pinned an interested
expression to her face.

"Does
Sybille understand that Mitcham isn't serious in his attentions?"

Whatever
she expected to hear, it wasn't that.

"Of
course she does. We all do." Tessa giggled. "Poor Arthur. Now he knows
none of us would entertain him as a partner, he gravitates to us for help and
advice. To say nothing of peace from matchmaking mamas of the wrong sort. He
seems to attract grasping girls and their overzealous parents. Why, when he is
on his own admission not over plump in the pocket, I don't know. That seems to
be the only thing needed to make a good match these days."

Nat
gave her a sharp and penetrating look. "Not quite and he is wealthier than
he gives on. Plus in Arthur's case, Lady Dalton has made it known he is well
favored in her will. Therefore as a man with a tidy sum in the bank and expectations,
he is acceptable as a potential spouse."

"As
always," Tessa said and winced inwardly at the tart note in her voice.

"Not
always so."

She
didn't answer. How could she? Tessa had no idea how much if anything Nat knew
of their straightened circumstances. Even though she thought her parents would
have told him her dowry was meager, it was highly unlikely they would have
divulged exactly what their situation was.

They'd
walked steadily toward the three people standing on the corner, and Nat pinched
the soft skin of Tessa's palm. "Remember, pebble, right boot, perfectly
fine now."

"I
do not have short-term memory loss, my lord."

"I'm
so pleased to hear it. Tell me that again once we've perambulated along the
darkened walks, and I remind you I told you here and now I intend to kiss you,
and perhaps, no probably, will indulge in making a little sweet—and almost
innocent—love to you. Then make sure your garden door is open one hour after
you get home from Vauxhall."

Tessa
missed her step, caught the toe of her boot on the stony ground, and was only
saved from the ignominy of falling onto her knees by a well-placed hand under
her arm.

Did
she really feel it sweep the side of her wool-covered breast?