My Lord Deceived (25 page)

The passion
roared to life between them. Tongues duelled and mated; arms
captured and hands roamed freely over flesh that ached with the
desire that burned to life and consumed them both.

Despite his
best intentions, Jonathan began to step her backward until her legs
nudged the edge of the chaise. He was about to lie her down when
there was a discrete knock on the door.

For one brief
moment, he wondered if he could get away with ignoring it, but when
the knock sounded again, he wrenched his mouth away from hers with
a low groan. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and held
her still when she tried to move away.

Kat felt as
though someone had just poured a bucket of ice cold water over her.
She stared at the empty room behind him blankly for several moments
and willed her flesh to cool. Stunned silence settled over them for
a moment as each of them tried to contain the passion that had
flared so brightly, and with such devastating effect. Kat knew that
whatever happened next, she would never be the same again after
that and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Another knock
on the door made her pull away from him. When he tried to tighten
his hold and keep her near him, she grabbed hold of his arms and
drew them away from her body while she stepped back. Kat swallowed.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Embarrassed colour
flooded her cheeks. She tried not to think about what had just
happened but she wasn’t sure what to do next. What was she expected
to do? How did one handle such a situation like this? Did she say
thank you? Sorry? Or did she just meekly leave? She wanted to turn
on her heel and run for her life, but she also wanted to stay and
find out what he really wanted from her.

A more
persistent knock on the door jolted him into movement and he turned
away from her. One hand ran through his hair in frustration. His
gaze was apologetic when he did turn to look at her but the sight
of her as she stood almost lost and forlorn while bathed in the
gentle glow of the fire, immediately made him want to sweep her
into his arms again.

“Are you
alright?” His voice was soft and gentle. She looked so befuddled
that he wanted to smile at the effect his kisses had had on her,
but he didn’t want her to think that he was laughing at her.

Kat stared at
him. She wasn’t sure what to think. She couldn’t exactly tell him
off. After all, she had made no attempt to stop him and had
returned his kisses with a fervency that matched his. Unable to
find the right words she needed, she nodded briskly and kept
quiet.

Jonathan cursed
and watched as the door suddenly swung open and Rupert stalked into
the room, a dark scowl on his face.

“Come in,”
Jonathan drawled, and threw an apologetic look at Kat. “Hello,
Rupert.”

“We wondered if
you had passed out or something,” Rupert drawled as he glanced at
Kat. Jonathan watched Stephen enter close behind and, while he was
vastly relieved that reinforcements had arrived, he wished their
timing had been better.

He could sense
that Kat was about to flee, and motioned toward her. “Kat please
let me introduce you to my associates. This is Rupert and that is
Stephen.” He made no attempt to give titles or surnames, a fact
that was not lost on Kat who studied him for a moment. What did she
call them? Sir? Your lordships?

She felt shame
wash over her at the reminder of her lowly status and smiled almost
awkwardly as Rupert wandered over and bowed almost officiously over
her hand.

“Rupert
Samuels, ma’am, at your service.” He kissed the back of her hand as
though she was a lady at a social occasion.

Kat stared at
him for a moment and watched as he was rudely pushed aside and was
replaced by Stephen, who smiled gently at her.

“Ignore
Jonathan’s rudeness. He is always grumpy at tea time. My name is
Stephen Montague.” He too bowed over her hand and kissed the back
of it as though she was a regal princess.

“Pleased to
meet you both,” she replied softly. She didn’t see Jonathan amble
up to stand beside her and jumped when his hand touched her back.
“I am sorry, I was just about to leave,” she stammered.

“We need to
talk, Kat,” Jonathan growled quietly.

“Another time.
I really must go.” She smiled at Rupert and Stephen and turned
away. She could feel all three men watch her as she left but
couldn’t bring herself to turn around.

“Are you off to
the tavern tonight?”

Kat stopped by
the door and shook her head. “Not tonight. It is my night off.” She
glanced at the latest arrivals and bade them a quite goodbye before
she closed the door behind her.

The walk home
was forgotten by the time she reached her own front door. She let
herself in and savoured the silence for a moment. Her mother and
Billy were off out somewhere and that afforded her the quiet time
she needed to gather her scattered wits about her.

In all of her
life, she had never once stopped to consider that emotions like the
ones she had experienced with Jonathan were even possible, much
less would happen to her. She had never once stopped to think she
was capable of them, especially with someone like him. He was an
enigma and there were so many things she didn’t know about him that
she knew she could spend the rest of her life with him and still be
asking him questions.

She quickly
closed that thought off and disappeared upstairs to her room.
Silence settled about her as she closed the door behind her and lay
on the bed to wonder who the new arrivals were.

Whoever they
were, whatever they were in Bentney on Sea for, she suspected that
they would take Jonathan with them when they left.

Rupert slumped
on the chair before the fire and studied Jonathan. From the look of
him, he had been either standing on a cliff top being buffeted by
the non-existent sea breezes today, or he and the delicious looking
Kat had been doing a lot more than chatting. Despite her being the
most beautiful woman Rupert had seen in some time, she was by all
appearances one of the villagers, so what the hell was Jonathan
doing?

“So, are you
going to tell us, or do we have to prise it out of you with shoeing
irons?”

Jonathan sighed
and handed each man a liberal shot of brandy before he took a seat
beside the fire. “How much as Hugo told you?”

“Just that you
needed reinforcements,” Stephen sighed. He moaned as the fragrant
liquid he sipped slid down his throat like amber nectar.

Jonathan sat
and explained what he had witnessed last night and his suspicions
about Harrison. Half way through, he rang for refreshments and only
paused his explanation long enough to hand out the sandwiches and
cake before he resumed his description of the smuggling operation
down on the beach. He left no stone unturned. He knew that if they
had any chance of bringing an end to the villagers’ activities, he
had to be honest and forthright with his colleagues and he knew
that he could trust Rupert and Stephen with his life. They wouldn’t
fail him.

“Damned thing
is, while I have been off fighting to protect king and country from
bloody smugglers, my own villagers have been smuggling goods right
on my own doorstep,” he snorted in disgust and reached for the
brandy decanter again.

“We have all
been so busy that none of us have had much time to see to our home
life,” Rupert sighed as he rubbed a weary hand down his face. He
couldn’t remember the last time he had bothered to go home. His
thoughts turned to Theodora, and he mentally cursed. Usually he
could block out all thought of Theodora Weatherby when he needed to
but, of late, she seemed to be all he could think about. Theodora
looked a lot like Kat, although had a wild mass of black hair that
was as free and unfettered as the woman herself. He quickly blocked
out the memory of the last time they had met and turned his
attention back to Stephen, who looked equally as morose.

“So what do you
want us to do?”

“I had a note
the other day to say that my contact in Dadington had spotted
Bernard.” That captured the interest of both of his colleagues who
immediately tensed and leaned forward.

“Just Bernard?”
Stephen asked, his gaze as sharp as his voice.

“No, there are
rumours that Dubois is here too,” Jonathan replied. Dubois and
Bernard were two of the ten French spies the Star Elite knew had
been smuggled into the country. So far Beaulieu, Petit, Moreau and
Legrand had been captured or killed. That left Rousseau, Guerin and
Laurent still at large, along with Dubois and Bernard.

“Assuming that
we do find out that your villagers are frequent smugglers, what do
you want to do with them?” Stephen asked as he lifted his glass to
study the amber liquid in the firelight.

“I am going to
have a strong word with all of them. I am going to threaten them
with the weight of the law and am going to uncover who their
contact is. As soon as I have that, then I will find out whom that
contact is using and how they are getting messages to the French,
and then I am going to shut them all down. I will not have
smuggling on my damned doorstep.”

He rose and
poured more brandy into everyone’s glass and was about to put the
decanter back onto the table between them when he froze. He stared
at the liquid that glinted in the firelight. His mind was locked on
to one peculiar point in time that he had not considered important
before.

“What is it?”
Rupert asked with a scowl. Tension rose in the room as everyone
waited.

Jonathan
replayed the scene over and over in his mind as his fury grew to
mammoth proportions.

He turned to
stare at the decanter. “Kat,” he whispered as he stared blankly at
the decanter.

“Do you think
she is involved?”

“I take it she
is a villager?”

“It isn’t like
you to dally with the locals, so what gives Jonathan? What are you
up to?”

Rupert’s
question snapped Jonathan out of his anger and he turned to find
his colleagues staring expectantly at them.

“I have known
Kat all of my life, and worshipped her from afar from the first
moment I clapped eyes on her at nine years old. Although she is the
daughter of a villager, the feelings I have for her have brought me
back home time and again.” He scowled at the decanter. “She is one
of the smugglers.” His voice was cold and hard.

“How do you
know?” She didn’t look like the smuggling type to Stephen; the
beddable type, definitely, but a smuggler? He scowled at Jonathan
and wondered whether he was just dazed with passion.

“I went to her
house the other day to ask her if she was going to read to uncle.
She has been coming to the hall to read to him for several years,
ever since his eyes started to fail in fact. When I called by, she
offered me a brandy.”

“So? What’s
wrong with that?” Stephen sighed, and studied his glass again in
confusion.

“Her mother
runs a market stall.”

“And?”

Jonathan rolled
his eyes and sighed impatiently. “This brandy is the finest French
brandy and cost me a small bloody fortune. How in the hell can Kat,
whose mother runs a market stall selling fruit and vegetables,
afford something like this?”

“Are you sure
it was brandy she offered you?” Rupert was only half teasing.
Personally he would accept anything she would offer him but he was
too much of a gentleman to admit it.

“She definitely
offered me a brandy.”

“So, say that
she was smuggling, what do you want to do with her?”

“I am going to
teach her a bloody lesson she will never forget,” Jonathan snarled,
his eyes ablaze with fury.

“I take it you
don’t want the villagers arrested?”

“God, it would
wipe out the whole bloody village. From what I saw the other night,
most of them are involved. Unless we are going to drive the entire
village into the ground, it is better if we just frighten them a
little. There is one massive problem however.” He smiled when
Stephen sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t there
always?”

“Harrison is an
Excise man who is just a little too enthusiastic and efficient in
his choice of days in which to search the village for smuggled
cargo. So far he has searched every day and has come up with
nothing.”

“Nothing at
all?” Rupert scowled, unable to believe that any efficient Excise
unit, especially one armed with information, would search a village
and come up completely empty handed.

“Not so much as
a coffee bean.”

“Kat has also
been threatened by a young lout, Brian Meldrew, and a small group
of friends of his. They are nothing more than thuggish youths with
nothing better to do with their time but recently, the fisherman
who owns the boat the Brian works on died out at sea.”

Stephen looked
at Jonathan, his brows lifted as he thought. “Do you think it was
murder?”

“The man is
from one of the village’s oldest families. He was a fifth
generation fisherman or something like that. It just seems damned
odd that the man turns up dead and Brian takes over his boat.”

“The boy is
running the fishing boat?” Rupert scowled and settled back in his
chair to study his booted feet.

“Do you think
he is the one who is tipping Harrison off about the smugglers?”
Rupert asked as he considered the latest turn of events.

“I think that
something damned odd is going on with everything in that village.
Harrison claims that the information just turns up on his doorstep.
Personally, I think that he has some sort of arrangement going on
with someone. I can’t see it is any one of the smugglers. What
purpose would it have to call the Excise men to their own front
door? Someone in the village is a traitor and telling the Excise
men when the deliveries are due to arrive.”