CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

“Kat,” he waited until she turned back toward him. He moved to stand before her and stared down into her face. “There is nothing I won’t do to protect those I care about. I can help you, if only you trust me.” He kept his voice soft and his stance relaxed, even though every inch of him wanted to shake her until she started to talk.

She studied him and made no attempt to move away from the hand that cupped her cheek. It was folly to allow any further kisses, but she wanted to feel what it was like to be held by him just once more. Gentle warmth stole through her as she watched his head lower toward hers. The soft whisper of his breath stole over her lips a second before she was captured by him. No sooner had his lips landed on hers than his arms swept around her waist and drew her flush against his masculine length.

Her senses swam. She could feel every muscle and sinew beneath the clothing he wore. She felt consumed, enraptured and she couldn’t break free. With a sigh, she sank closer to his warmth instead and savoured the few precious moments she had with him.

Jonathan cupped her head in one large palm and angled his head to deepen the kiss the way he wanted to. He swallowed her soft gasp and eased her closer. His heart hammered in his throat. He wanted to plunder; to control, command and demand her complete surrender. She stood compliant in his arms, but a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder for how long. She was strong, determined and almost feisty. He had to capture her and make her his.

Slowly, as the minutes ticked past, she began to return his kisses. He knew that she was untried and was learning from his masterful command by the way in which she copied his movements. The sweep of her tongue against his almost undid him and he groaned softly at the white hot sensation that poured through him. His hand tightened in her hair as wave after wave of passion built.

Kat was lost to everything but he feel of his lips and his warm embrace. She couldn’t have stopped him even if she had wanted to, which she didn’t. Instead, she leaned into his embrace and tipped her head back.

“God, Kat,” Jonathan groaned as he peppered kisses down her neck. His body responded to her nearness with a swiftness that shocked him. He shifted uncomfortably in an attempt to ease the ache in his loins, and groaned at the feel of her as she moved against him. With any other woman he would have backed her toward the chaise and made use of the soft cushions. With Kat, he had no intention of rushing her into anything she wasn’t ready for. For some reason, he wanted to be noble and chivalrous with her, and wait until they were married before they gave in to the demands of their bodies – if he could last that long.

Rather than push him away as she knew she ought to, Kat ran her fingers through his soft hair. It tickled her fingers. She felt decidedly wanton for her behaviour but couldn’t think of regrets or anything other than the feel of his wonderfully soft lips as they rubbed so tantalisingly against hers. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. She was certain he could feel it.

One large palm slid slowly down her side, over the indentation of her waist to settle on the sharp protrusion of her hip. She made no protest when his hand slid around her back, and continued downward to cup her rounded bottom. She didn’t think there was any space between them as it was, but he managed to pull her tighter against him until every breath he took felt like her own. She wasn’t sure where this was headed but couldn’t stop him. She wanted this as much as he did.

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.”

“Unless they had a deal whereby Harrison calls at the village and supposedly finds nothing. If he helps himself and smuggles away the odd packet of tea or sugar, who is going to object? The smugglers can hardly report it to the magistrate.”

“But what would be in it for Brian Meldrew?”

“Getting back at the villagers?”

“Who receives the main hoard though?”

“I have no idea,” Jonathan sighed. “By the time I got to the cliff top and located the bodies of the sailors, the cargo had disappeared off the beach. I am fairly certain it didn’t go into the village. There wasn’t the time or the people. Someone collected it and must have waited nearby and watched it come ashore.”

“Who though?” Stephen sighed.

“I don’t know, but Harrison keeps looking for it.”

“He knows it is around but just doesn’t know who has it.”

“But why doesn’t he wait with his men and seize it when it arrives on the shore if he knows when it is going to be delivered?”

“Exactly,” Jonathan sighed.

They all stared at each other.

“Unless, Harrison stops the cargo on its way to the owner, seizes it and, on the seizure inventory, doesn’t list all of the goods. That way he gets to siphon off some for himself, has a list of seized goods to back up his regular searches of the village, and makes himself a tidy profit.”

“Have you searched the Excise House yet?”

Jonathan looked askance at him. “I have been back here three weeks now and have spent my time just trying to unravel the secrets thus far. I have been to and fro from Dadington more times than I care to count, but I cannot be everywhere all of the time.”

“That’s where we come in,” Stephen sighed. He glanced at Rupert. “Unless you have any objection, I will take the Excise House.”

Rupert shrugged. “I will go over to Dadington and see if Dubois or Barnard have surfaced yet, or left a trail for us to follow.”

“I am going to keep watch on the smuggling operation and see if I can identify a few more of those involved in the village. There were a few that I couldn’t identify because it was dark, there were hats and the like.” He didn’t need to mention Kat’s name but from the looks that passed between Rupert and Stephen knew that they understood. “Thank you for that.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Stephen sighed. “I am sure our turn will come.” He wasn’t referring to problems with women. He had seen enough of the troubles the rest of his colleagues had been subjected to while they tried to secure their wives hands in marriage. There was no way in hell he was prepared to go through the same ordeal for any woman. Some men were destined to enjoy bachelorhood for all of their lives, and that included him.

The men made their way across the hallway toward the dining room where a veritable feast awaited them. Jonathan ate somewhat absently and almost choked on his soup when he remembered another vague snippet of a clue that he had previously missed.

“What now?” Rupert sighed and brushed splatters of soup off his jacket.

“Cloth,” Jonathan murmured and stared blankly down the table. His fury grew and his fist clenched around his spoon to the point that it started to bend under his fingers. He knew his colleagues waited for an explanation. All too carefully he placed his spoon back into his bowl and paid no attention to the mangled state of the handle. “She had a bolt of cloth propped up in the corner of the sitting room on the first day I called at the house.”

“Cloth? What type of cloth?”

“French lace.”

Silence settled over the table and Rupert sighed. Kat was indeed one of the smugglers. He looked at the angry glint in Jonathan’s eye. If there was one thing he was certain of, he didn’t relish being Kat when Jonathan caught up with her.

He ate the rest of his meal in thoughtful silence, and couldn’t help but wonder whether this time, unlike the other members of the Star Elite, Jonathan’s romance of the woman he loved would not end happily.